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[krist-420]

My twin sister Meegan

Meegan our Mom and Mr Parker

Me and Meegan

Me and Meegan420 🤣

#I said I would get you lol 😂 #Meegan420 #Hi Sis #my twin sis Meegan #Meegan420 reveal #south paws 🐾 #the creator of South Paws 🐾 #i truly love south paws #south hampter #artists on tumblr

[soaps-hoe-141]

Drowning In The Depths

Sorry it took me so long yall, I have been sick af and with school starting back it is kicking my ass. Gotta love them STEM degrees, know what I mean?

Part 12

Pairing: Captain Price x Male!Reader

WC: 18.3k

Synopsis: Who said Price gotta be the Captain all the time? I am so sorry in advance

Warnings: NSFW 18+ smut, blood, canon typical violence

Darkness swallowed the team as everyone jostled against one another in the back. Well, almost everyone. Price and Gaz had both taken up positions in buildings on the North and South sides of the building in their individual sniper’s nest. Fuckin snipers. You had to stop yourself from snickering at the thought of the two of them laying on the floor the past day as if they were statues. It couldn’t be comfortable, that was for sure. 

You stopped yourself though, sniffing as you reached up to wipe at your nose and look around the dark compartment of the van. Konig was sitting next to you on the bench the team had apparently earned after your last successful mission. It certainly made the ride more comfortable as Watcher navigated through the darkened and ghostly quiet streets outside. The terrible thunderstorms overhead were the cause of it this time, and just as the thought crossed your mind a strike of lightning flashed just over Konig’s head where you could just barely see the windshield of the van. His dark hood was hanging loose as he leaned forward between the front two seats to whisper quietly with the young man who was driving, deep in conversation as he took another turn.

Meanwhile Soap and Ghost sat on the bench across from y’all. The bigger man had his knife out as he meticulously, or rather obsessively, honed the edge to a razor-like finish. His black gloved finger ran over the spine of the knife, catching on the serrations that were closer to the hilt before his gaze shot up to find you. The man truly had a sixth sense and it was beyond freaky now. Hazel eyes narrowed into slits as he caught you staring, a smattering of thoughts were undoubtedly going on behind that sharp gaze, before Soap captured his attention completely by tapping his knee against Ghost’s and whispering something into the other man’s ear. The Ghost-whisperer it would seem for he had tamed the wild beast in front of you with merely a touch and a couple words.

The big one certainly had his death stare mastered though, good lord. Your head shook subtly as you suppressed a shiver before you shifted back along the bench and leaned forward with your rifle laying across your thighs while Cerberus laid underneath the bench right beneath you. His nose knocked against your calf as he lifted his head to find your gaze, a slight tilt to it as he expected some command to come from you. There was nothing to tell him right now, not yet anyway. When no order came though the Dutch Shepherd’s tongue lolled for a moment until you reached down to run your fingers over his brindle fur. You could feel the weight of his head as it pressed into your palm for a quick moment. His head fell back to his paws a moment later and you leaned back into the wall of the van as you took a deep breath.

This drive was becoming anxiety inducing as another wheel dipped into a pothole and the thunder rumbled overhead. It felt almost like something was coming to a head, like the crescendo of a song was nearing and you could feel the melody of it in your very soul. The vibrations of an orchestra in the strings of energy that surrounded you and had you sitting on the edge of your seat even as you actively tried to calm yourself down, breathing as deep as you could.

Why was this making you so nervous anyway? You’d gone after plenty of the worst this world had to offer. Amaan was so far from tipping the scales of lecherous actions you’d been witness to that it wasn’t even funny. Hell you’d been right next to the fucking Admiral on that bastard’s worst days. Even on his good days Amaan was far from the worst in comparison to that demon. Al-Mustafa could have been a fucking angel when he was standing next to him, and yet here you were having to actively stop your knee from bouncing while also forcing yourself to put on the persona that was Speck. Not yourself, but the man you were expected to be in this situation. The operator. Master Chief. Your role.

Suddenly the answer to your question hit you like a slap in the face. Back then, when you had been faced with the Admiral, his heinous crimes, and your own very obvious mortality, you’d had nothing to lose. Everything you’d worked for had been stripped from you and your decisions and past had left you devoid of anything to care for. Your family, your job, your home, every cent to your fucking name had been thrust into the incinerator and you’d lost it at the drop of a hat.

Everything had changed now, you had someone, something, to stay alive for and to come back to. It was going to cloud your judgment. You knew that all too well. Hell it already had been affecting your judgment over the past days that you had been digging yourself deeper and deeper into the trench that was Captain John Price. It would only get worse from here on out and you found that the little voice that always told you not to get attached was surprisingly silent.

John Price was an addiction that even your subconscious would forever be unable to shake. You were bound and determined that the only thing that could tear you from him at this point was death itself and you’d put up a fight with any god or ferryman who came after you. Death had, had his chance to take you once before and he’d fucked it up. That fucker wasn’t getting you any time soon if you had anything to say about it. Besides who wouldn’t fight for those beautiful blue eyes and that endearing smirk when he knew he had you right where-

Stop thinking about him, Speck. There was a fucking job to do. Slowly you found your eyes turning to your left where the seat on the bench next to you sat empty. Where he would have been if it wasn’t for the fact he was already in position. A part of you was already missing him and it hadn’t even been that long. You craved the way his calloused fingers slid along your arm, the way his lips felt pressed against yours. The way his striking blue eyes pierced your very soul as he looked down at you with sweat dripping off the tip of his nose. Those quiet words of praise falling from between his lips, amongst other, dirtier words that had your cheeks warming in an instant even now as you sat in the back seat of the van.

A hard shove against your shoulder nearly pushed you sideways on the bench as you blinked a few times and your eyes focused on the other men around you. “You’re listening, ja?” You could almost see the raised eyebrows beneath the hood, the way his forehead creased sometimes when he only had his facemask on. Price’s forehead had lines like that, though his were a bit deeper and a bit more mature in appearance whenever his brows furrowed. Oh and the way the corners of his eyes creased whenever he smiled and made his typically serious face a bit more hospitable when he looked at you.

Fuck, Speck, would you pay attention? “Yes sir, I’m listenin’,'' your accent slipped out as you tried to pull yourself out of your foggy thoughts. You caught the attention of the other two men sitting in the back of the van as well as the southern twang lilted into your words. A moment of distraction and a shard of your past revealed, though they may have been jokesters and enjoyed a good laugh that in no way meant that they were stupid. They paid attention and they noticed the smallest of details, it was in fact what made all of you so great in the field.

Not a word was spoken though…Thankfully. Your past, your heritage, wasn’t exactly something you liked to advertise, it could ruin the idea of who you were. What you were. The idea that you were a chameleon would disappear in a cloud of smoke if they really started to hear that twang that was hidden so well in your voice. Or so you always told yourself anyway.

Ghost grunted out a quick, “We’re a minute out,” as he stood up from his and Soap’s bench. Shit you’d lost track of the time. You quickly followed suit as you stood up and pulled a magazine out of the tac vest before sliding it into the magazine well. It took only a quick pull of the charging handle to chamber a bullet from the magazine and you glanced quickly towards where Ghost was already unlatching the panel that had closed you all into the back. “Thirty seconds,” his voice rasped out into your ear as the van slowed to a stop and Watcher shut the panel between the front seats.

You clipped Cerberus’ lead on before you did a quick check of his gear, tightening the straps on his harness that wrapped underneath his belly. A moment later you joined the other three men at the two back doors. When the lock clicked on the outside the door opened a second later and Ghost jumped down beside the small ginger. The rest of y’all followed close behind the big man with Watcher bringing up the rear. The door shut behind you, though you couldn’t hear it over the pounding of the rain as the storm was raging around you now. You moved behind Konig with Soap on your left beside you.

The four of you lined up on either side of the door with Cerberus between your legs as you kneeled at Konig’s back and watched your side of the dark alley. The dog’s eyes were locked on you, you could feel their gaze as he awaited whatever command you were going to give him or even something as simple as if you were going to move. Watcher moved by you before he stopped to stand in front of a keypad and he plugged something into it. You could just barely hear him as he whispered something to himself and his mic picked it up, along with the sound of him typing numbers into the door’s lock.

It took a few moments before anyone finally started to move and when they did you weren’t surprised by the perpetrator in the slightest. A snort came from somewhere behind you though you heard it clearly in your ear just before a Scottish voice muttered under his breath, “Yer no singing right now are ye? Ye do know we’re in a bit a fuckin’ hurry, right?”

Just as fast as the questions slipped out of Soap’s mouth the quiet muttering stopped as well as the sounds of the young man pressing the buttons, both of them seeming to be distracrted by the other in this tense moment. Rain muted the sounds of shifting from behind you as you forced yourself to stay focused on the alley in front of you and not fall victim to the teasing these two were leveling at one another. “Aye, I am ye bastart. Ye can’t do any better, trust me we hear yer howlin’ every time we try to take a fuckin’ shower,” your brows lifted at the quiet words that came out of the smaller Scotsman. It wasn’t so much the words that had surprised you but the one who had said them.

Up until this point Watcher had been nothing but a sweet, innocent- as innocent as anyone on this team could be anyway -young man who might have seemed a bit too young but it wasn’t like he had ever seemed incapable, quite the opposite in fact. Watcher had been quiet maybe whenever everyone else was around, but never did he seem like the type to mouth off in the way he was now. Especially not to someone who was technically his superior even if Soap didn’t act like it sometimes. There were intricacies to the relationships in this team that you still hadn’t quite grasped it seemed.

“Well get on with it then Freckles, we don’t have all bloody night. It’s pishin’ it doon oot here,” you could hear the smile in his voice just before Ghost let out an exasperated sigh behind you directed at what you assumed to be both of the Scotsmen who were very nearly about to go at it in this fuckin alley if the annoyed huff from Watcher was anything to go by.

It didn’t seem either of them cared too much about the fact that rain was currently pouring down on y’all in fuckin buckets. It had soaked through your clothes nearly the moment you’d stepped out of the van and your equipment had been right behind it seconds later. There was no doubt in your mind if they kept it up, even your waterproof boots were going to give way to the torrential downpour overhead and you hated the feel of wet socks. That wasn’t even mentioning how bad Cerberus was gonna be stinking after this operation.

Just before the tension broke and shit hit the fan though a deep voice came over your ear piece. Deep, smooth, calm, and authoritative, “ETA on your entry, Bravo 0-7.” It was a question yes, including the little lilt up of his voice at the end, but it sounded more like an order coming from that man. Most things in your experience did, you weren’t about to complain about it though.

Without thinking about it the corners of your mouth turned up in a small smile. A rush that wasn’t adrenaline for once, but instead was happiness. A feeling you were beginning to grow a bit more accustomed to after so long without it. You stayed quiet though as Watcher answered the silent question in a hushed tone, “Fifteen seconds.” Ghost quickly relayed the answer before everyone went silent once more. There was a hollow grunt from Ghost who seemed like he was about to say something more but he instead elected to leave it alone once Watcher continued on with whatever it was he was doing. Best not to distract the young man anymore than he obviously already was.

Before Price could speak again the more feminine voice of Laswell came through the ear pieces, obviously broadcasted to the whole team, “Be advised there are two unknowns nearing your location. I estimate thirty seconds before they are on you. You need to get inside the building. Do not alert any guards. I repeat, do not alert any guards. We don’t know what is inside that building.” Your hands tightened instinctively on the weapon as you shifted and your knee dug further into the grime of the alleyway as rain water flowed down the paved road by you.

Watcher behind you was still doing whatever it was he was good at in an attempt to get y’all inside before shit hit the fan. No one said a word for fear it would tip the scales out of your favor too soon and y’all waited quietly on bated breath to get the clear from the ginger to breach. Again an American voice broke the silence as Laswell updated the team, “Fifteen seconds. Your side of the alley Speck.” Your hand shot down to the dog still lying between your legs as you quickly assured yourself that he was still lying on his belly there, as if he could move with the lead still clipped on him.

Both you and Cerberus were tense with anticipation, the only thought in your mind being ‘Don’t let this op go sideways already. It’s too fuckin soon.’ Just as the words played through your mind though water splashed up beside you as Watcher backed up to stop beside you and shove the items in his hand into a small pack at his hip and readied his weapon. Your focus however stayed on the end of the all even as the door opened behind you.

Footsteps, muted by the torrent, sounded off behind you as the other cleared into the building in quick succession. Laswell’s voice was counting down quietly in your ear as the men filed in behind you as quickly as they could. There was a light tap on your shoulder and your eyes darted up to find Watcher just as the young man hurried away from you and inside. You stood and shuffled backwards with Cerberus who backpedaled along with you until you turned into the doorway and Konig shut the door behind you.

Silence buzzed in your ears until the soft sounds of droplets of water hitting the floor found your ears. Your ears adjusted quickly to the lack of the noise as you looked around the dark entryway that you found yourself in. It was like the building was light and soundproof despite you knowing better. Or at least you knew what the building specs had revealed, who knew what was really going on in this fucking building though. No plan, no matter how amazing, survived a battle.

The illusion of the building being sound and lightproof dissipated in a moment though as the sound of rain hitting the roof sounded somewhere above you. While outside the darkness of the storm was interrupted by flashes of lightning that managed to illuminate the hallway though it was only for a few moments. It was just long enough though for you to see Soap at the end of the hallway and his gun pointed into the darkness with Watcher covering the other corner. Both men were holding their respective angles on anyone who might come down the hallway. 

A second later there was a strike of thunder that seemed to rattle the walls around you and also aided to ruin the illusion of sound deprivation, feeling more like an earthquake instead of a storm that was miles overhead. There was still no sound from the team though, even as Konig dropped his night vision into place much like the rest of the team had already done, you were just now noticing. A moment later Ghost finally broke the dead silence as his voice sounded over all the comms, “We’re inside. IR beacons on now Captain,” you reached up a hand to drop your own night vision into place. You reached to the back of your helmet then to turn the IR beacon as well and then Cerberus’ on the back of his vest as Ghost spoke.

It took a second before you heard Price answer in that calm, soothing tone that was all business and formality in the middle of this mission. And despite yourself it had the hair on your arms standing up in response, “Good copy Lieutenant, eyes on.” The big man didn’t bother to answer him and instead he moved up behind Soap as he took a second to survey both sides of the dark hallway.

The masked face turned back to find you as his hand came up and he directed you to follow up behind Konig and Watcher. The moment you gave him a nod he tapped Soap on the shoulder and the two men slipped silently around the corner. Stealth was your friend, at least for now, and was the only thing keeping the local law enforcement off of y’all and the rest of the building quiet as you moved through the building. Just one quick hand motion and Cerberus was out from between your legs as he came to rest at your right hip instead. Stepping up behind Konig you gave him a light tap on the shoulder and watched him mirror the same action on the young man’s before the three of you slipped around the corner and off down the hallway.

Watcher stopped at the first room as he opened the door quietly and his lean form moved with graceful, quiet speed you hadn’t seen from many. As you continued moving you found yourself appraising the skill with which he cleared the room, despite the fact that you knew it wasn’t actually your job to do so. To be so young it seemed he was well enough trained, maybe not as quick or experienced as the rest of the team but you had your suspicions that most of his skills lied elsewhere. Not necessarily just another jarhead with half a brain to throw into the fray when you needed bodies. 

Quickly though you and Konig moved past the room as you watched the hallway behind and Konig the hallway and stairs up ahead. It took only a few seconds before the sharp features of his pale face reappeared in the doorway and you turned to tap Konig as the three of you continued on down the hall. Approaching the second door that branched off the hallway you heard a low rumble come from your right and you hurriedly reached forward to tap the taller man in front of you on the shoulder. He paused for just a moment before he too heard the low rumble just behind him and he gave a stiff nod.

A quick hand gesture and the rumble stopped as Konig lined up on the side of the door before checking to make sure it was unlocked. When he looked back you were quick to give him a single nod as he returned his attention to the door and pushed inside. You didn’t catch what happened in the first moment. All you could see was Konig’s large body that seemed to swallow the nearest hostile as he wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and drug him to the side against the wall, as out of the way as the Austrian could get. You stepped inside in the next moment as you listened to the muffled sounds that came from the man that Konig was fighting to put to sleep.

The wide eyed face of a young man, you’d wager to guess even younger than Watcher, came around the corner in a flash. You barely had enough time to register the fear that had grown there. All you could see was the thought that he was in too deep, that his time had come even as he reacted in his own defense nearly as quickly as you. The silhouette of a handgun began to rise in what felt like slow motion in front of you. Instinct carried you forward as your right hand shot forward as quick as the strike of lightning that flashed outside and blinded you for just a moment. You didn’t need to be able to see though now that you had your hands on him.

Just as quickly as your sight was taken it returned in the midst of your next strike. His trachea slammed into your thenar web and you could feel the way it began to give way beneath the force of the blow. Dark eyes bugged at the sudden contact and immediately the gun in his hand dropped, a metallic clack echoing around the walls as it hit the ground, and he reached for his throat while he struggled to catch his breath.

In the next moment his throat was trapped between your forearm and bicep while his hands clawed fruitlessly at your arms. Nails dug into the fabric of the long sleeved, black shirt that clung to your torso and arms like a second skin. When that didn’t seem to work a primal instinct began to take over that few could have suppressed, and part of you would have gone so far as to say not a soul alive could have fought that urge down.

It was a desire to survive, to continue dwelling in this cruel world that every creature walking this planet had. His sharp elbows drove back into your ribs and you couldn’t help the quiet grunt that he drove from your lungs. The young man’s mouth opened wide in a scream that he couldn’t quite get out but damn did he try. You could even feel the muscles of his neck as they flexed beneath your forearm. A quiet hum passed through your lips as the wild and struggling actions slowly began to ebb into the hazy last ditch efforts to get away. Futile attempts but the human brain responded the only way it knew how, remove the threat and get away from it. Even if the brain knew it could never hope to accomplish that task.

As the fingers around your forearm loosened your gaze darted towards Konig across the room who was lowering the other man to the ground before he turned to find you. Cerberus was still standing idly beside you while his chocolatey eyes stared up at you with reverence as if you didn’t have a man currently struggling in your arms. When the other’s arms finally started to fall back to his sides you took a step back to lower him to the ground before he slumped to the floor and you stepped over his body to join Konig where he’d moved back towards the door. A single tap on the tall man’s shoulder and he stepped outside with Watcher as y’all continued on down the hallway.

Like a well-oiled machine you cleared every small room on the first floor and rotated with one another all the way to the stairs. As you cleared the final room on your side of the hallway, Ghost's voice rumbled through the ear piece, “Clearing the second floor now. Team three clear the third floor.”

You exited the room with a tap on Konig’s shoulder as the man answered back, “On the way up now.” He released the button on his mic before he whispered just loud enough to hear, “On you, Watcher.” The young man didn’t hesitate even for a moment before he mounted the first step on his way up. His head tilted up as he watched the top of the landing, taking the steps carefully as he went, doing everything in his power not to make a noise. Not a single shot fired so far and the guards weren’t alerted, hell this was going far better than any of y’all had dared to anticipate.

“Be advised, one just left his room on the second floor…” the man paused before continuing with an edge of nervous anticipation in his tone, “No clear shot on my end. He's approaching the stairwell on the north side of the building,” the Brit’s voice reached your ears though it wasn’t that of the man from before. This one was a couple octaves higher and missing the rough tone you loved so much. Watcher stilled on the stairs in response, just barely in front of Konig about halfway up the first flight of stairs. You couldn’t help but cast a nervous glance back the way you had come like you’d just assured y’alls mutual destruction by just daring to think positively for once.

A low rumble began in the dog’s chest that you silenced immediately with a quiet gesture of your hand. Konig took one more cautious step forward to come shoulder to shoulder with the comically shorter man just before a face came into view at the top of the stairs. Your stomach dropped as the middle-aged man froze with his fingers tangled through a long, dark beard. It took a moment for him to process what he was seeing, to register that y’all were the enemy and his life was in danger. The man tried to scream, he really did. At least he made the most honest attempt he could. His mouth opened and he tried to take a step back and turn. He put every muscle into action in order to take off back down the hall, probably to find someone, but his fate was never to walk down that hall again.

He didn’t even get the chance to turn his head all the way back around before a flash came from the end of Watcher’s barrel and then Konig’s. Blood sprayed the wall behind him as the light faded from his eyes and his body began to go limp. It would take a second for his body to realize that the brain had ceased to respond. No loud bangs echoed off the walls though, suppressors kept the sounds quiet especially with the cracks of thunder still sounding off overhead. 

Your shoulders tensed as you watched his body tilt forward towards the two men and he began to fall down the stairs. Without even really thinking about it the two men in front of you stepped forward simultaneously. The weight of the now deceased man hit their shoulders as they let his body lay softly against the stairs before they continued up and you followed right behind them. Avoiding the blood pooling onto the steps and the body that laid there now.

Watcher lifted his gun to inspect the dark hallway for only a second before his eyes returned in front of him and the two men in front of you continued on with that same slow and careful step that you all had been using since you left the van. Again the two men started up the stairs together as you brought up the rear of the group, Cerberus still steady at your side, a rock in this tide of uncertainty. As the three of you crested the top of the stairs two shots fired off back the way you had come. Fuck.

Voices rose in a flurry from the floor below as Ghost’s deep voice growled into your ear, “We’re compromised.” Yeah, no shit.

“Time to clean house lads,” Soap’s voice cut him off, sounding strained as more shots fired off from somewhere below.

More voices began to rise like a chorus from behind the closed doors of the third floor before lights flipped on overhead and blinded each of you with the nightvision. You scrambled desperately to pull the goggles up even as startled shouts hit your ears and you tried to adjust your eyes with a couple quick blinks. Bullets flew past you, slamming into the walls behind you before you heard the quieter pops of either Watcher or Konig’s rifles firing. When you could finally focus your eyes a man was lying dead a few feet in front of you and further down the hall one was coming out of another room.

Watcher was just getting his night vision goggles up while Konig was turning back to check on the both of you. His eyes landed on the ginger first before turning his green gaze to you. Cerberus’ jaws opened in a thunderous bark as a crack of thunder sounded just outside, though you had to admit the dog was easily loud enough to compete with it. All thought stopped though as you watched the door in front of you fly open. You were almost certain you could feel every muscle go rigid in response, a moment of hesitation that would undoubtedly be your undoing.

A figure peeled around the corner that Konig had missed in his worry. You tried to lift your gun but there wasn’t enough time. You could see from here, in this slowed down, distorted version of time, that he was going to beat you to pulling the trigger. That was before glass shattered somewhere ahead of you and the man fell with a hole in the side of his head. Your gaze darted around to find the source of the shot, but Konig was helping Watcher to his feet so it wasn’t one of you. Then John’s voice rumbled in your ear in a tone that was nearly a growl, “He’s down. Get al-Mustafa. That’s an order.”

Your eyes darted to where Konig was already moving forward with Watcher hurrying after him. There was no time to waste now that your cover had been blown. Konig shoved his way into the first door on his right and disappeared inside as you moved to catch up with the other two. You reached a hand down to check on Cerberus as the big dog moved at your side and you continued on past the door to follow Watcher. By the time the shorter man was pushing in to clear the next room Konig was coming up behind you to give you a light tap on the shoulder and you crossed the hall to the next door.

A hard shove inside with your shoulder and it started to give way only to come to a jarring halt as it slammed into something solid which was currently refusing to budge on the other side. Your brows furrowed then before someone shoved at the other side and the door slammed hard into your chest. A quiet curse fell out of your mouth as you took a step back and glanced Konig’s way as he pushed into the room next to yours easily enough while Watcher continued on down the hall past you and towards the last door already. Do not ruin the rhythm, Speck. Don’t be that fucker, get your shit together.

Get it together, get it together, finish this so you can get everything back to normal. Unclipping Cerberus’ lead you took a breath before you stepped forward and your boot collided with a door. The force cracked the wood which might as well have been paper thin at this point as it flew inward. Curses sounded from inside the room as you forced it the rest of the way open with a hard slam of your shoulder. When it finally gave in to the force you felt your teeth jar just before you caught sight of furrowed brows and the barrel of a gun rising your way.

Time was short but the distance between the two of you was shorter. Your gun slipped from your grasp as you shot forward and grabbed his wrist with one hand. You slammed it against the wall with enough force to make the wall shudder beneath it as you slipped further into his guard. The gun smacked against the wall uselessly as you did, your arms straining to maintain control with one hand around one wrist and the fingers of your other hand wrapped tight around the other.

The man growled out more than a few curses in Pashto as he tried to force you back through the door. Even as you held his arms wide and the gun away from your chest he still seemed only to be worried about keeping you out and away. It was like he was trying to get rid of you even as the sounds of gasps echoed from further within all in the span of a few seconds. All of the noises from within quickly turned into cries and sobs as you let your grip slip ever so slightly to wrap your hand around the barrel of the gun and force it from the man’s hand. It only took another half second to flip it around in your palm and shove it into the center of his chest. 

When you pulled the trigger the sound would have nearly deafened you if not for the headphones over your ears. The bang bounced off the walls around you as the man fell to the ground and you turned without thought to find the source of the noises from before. The man’s dead body was irrelevant now and you had no more attention you needed to pay it. Your eyes darted down towards the woman and the little girl she now held wrapped in her arms and as hidden from your sight as she possibly could be. Her face locked you into place as you immediately remembered the way she had looked so confused and pleading at you the last time you had seen her. Your jaw tensed and Cerberus whined at your side, sensing the way your mood immediately changed from business to uncertainty.

She had been at the other compound, you’d sent her directly back into the fray with the foolish hope that her mother would get her out of here, out of this life. Really it had been more like the hope that she could get out there. However even as you watched her you realized there was no recognition behind those eyes. This was the same little girl you had gone out of your way to speak to and she didn't even remember your face, and for some odd reason it made you muscles tighten in response. You were so used to people not remembering you, hell it was why you could do what you did, but you’d spoken to this girl. Killed another man right in front of her. Yet there she was not even realizing the deja vu you should have been causing her at this exact moment.

God you were getting sensitive lately, it was truly becoming pathetic as nearly everything was altering the course of your thoughts. You couldn’t think about that right now Speck, you’d come here for a reason and you had so much more to deal with than a child you didn’t even know. The reason you were here was somewhere else in this building, it wasn’t this little girl and her mother. Amaan was the cause of this girl’s suffering and you had a chance to stop that tonight. He was the reason that all of you were even here. The reason that you all had to be in this place with a dead man behind you and a woman and child who were begging quietly for their lives in front of you. Yet you hadn’t even gotten confirmation of an ID on him to prove he was even in this building.

Glancing towards the door you took half a step forward and leveled the barrel of the gun at the woman. Even as you did it though you felt the finger you had resting against the trigger freeze. You couldn’t kill unarmed combatants, and especially not a child. Not here and not now. Son of a bitch, you bit the inside of your cheek and glanced back at the door once before turning back to the two and growled out a quiet threat in Farsi, the only hope you had of keeping them alive and seeing this through to the end, “Do not move, do not leave. Try to leave and you will be shot. Stay here until we are gone and do not make a noise, do you understand?”

The mother’s eyes glanced at the man on the ground behind you before looking into your eyes once more as she pulled her daughter closer and then gave a few quick nods of understanding. You watched as the mother and Jasra disappeared into the small closet in the room and the door closed behind you as you left the room with a clipped, “Fuss.” The second you turned the corner though and started towards where you knew the other two would be clearing the final room another round of shots rang out through the third floor.

“FUCK,” the Scottish voice yelled out as he fell back around the door frame and his hands reached for his side. Too good, things never went this smoothly and you never should have let yourself believe that it would. You closed the distance in a flash though Konig was there a step before you, speaking words in German that you didn’t understand. His hand shot to grab a hold on the young man’s vest as he pulled him further away from the door. You didn’t stop to afford Watcher that same level of concern, not when the person who had done the shooting could have come out of the room at any moment, besides Konig could handle any first aid better than you could.

Slipping inside the final room you slid around the corner gun first as you came face to face with al-Mustafa who was standing securely behind his two wives with his arms wrapped around both of their necks. He had one hand wrapped around the grip of the pistol as he held it to one of their heads. Your eyes searched them carefully, analyzing and planning in the matter of a moment. There was no way you could fire off a shot and hope to kill the other man before he killed one of these two women though. Again time was short and you didn’t exactly have much time to figure out a way to get through this situation.

Especially not when you could hear the two men outside the door and you were already having to fight to turn off the side of your mind that held the worry and fear for the young man outside the door and everything that could possibly go wrong. Doubly so when you heard Konig’s voice in your ear piece, “Watcher has been shot. Soap, get up here now.” You didn’t flinch, you couldn’t, you were in the middle of a stare-off with a true piece of shit and you knew whoever flinched first was going to lose this match.

The ensuing chaos on the mic nearly broke you but it was still secondary as you continued to watch al-Mustafa. “Come on Amaan, there’s no reason for this. Just come with us,” play your role Speck, like maybe you wouldn’t have put a bullet in his head given the first chance. God you wanted to though, you wanted to kill him more than you’d wanted to kill anyone else before in your life. Your words, which had come out in Farsi, seemed to be a cause of confusion for Amaan though that lasted only a moment before he dismissed your presence as a whole in favor of searching for a way out from behind his two body shields.

There was fear that was evident in both of the women’s eyes and even though you couldn’t see it you knew that sweat was beginning to dot their brows as they watched the end of your gun rather than you. They were both expecting to meet their end one way or another tonight. You need to break that bastard’s concentration, your eyes darted down to the dog at your side who was a steady rock at your side. “Gib laut,” you mumbled to which Cerberus responded with a series of thundering barks directed at the man still searching for a way to get out.

The tension was instantly palpable in the room, the barks served to keep the other man on edge, no respite for the adrenaline fueled panic you knew was currently flowing through his system. Good, the last thing you needed was a terrorist with a fucking plan. “I don’t have a line of sight into the room, Captain, how about you,” Gaz’s voice came through your ear piece and you barely even had the chance to glance at the walls of the room to realize that there were no windows except for the one on the south side of the building.

Of course there weren’t, nothing could ever be that easy huh? It took a moment for Price to answer as well though you didn’t need to hear his answer to know what it would be. Still you enjoyed hearing his voice as he growled out in what you were beginning to learn was frustration, “Negative. Konig status report on Watcher.”

The Austrian was doing his best to hide his worry but it was painfully obvious as he answered, “Two gsw’s, one to the abdomen the other to the thigh, his plates caught the rest. Soap, where are you!?” You could hear the man outside without the need of his mic as his voice rose in what was nearing panic. The worst part about it though were the quiet grunts of pain that the young man was doing his best to choke down. However, as much as he was trying it wasn’t working too well as your imagination painted a vivid picture of Watcher leaking blood all over the hallway. With Konig’s huge hands pressing desperately over two flooded wounds as he tried to staunch the bleeding.

For the love of God, drown it out Speck, focus on the problem in front of you before you get yourself killed, idiot. You blinked once as you tried to push the thoughts into the back of your mind and forced al-Mustafa came back into your forethoughts. Your eyes caught sight of the women’s fear again, their gazes darting towards the door on their left and then back to you. Amaan’s eyes were everywhere but, his gaze was instead now drawn to the escape route he had planned out for himself. A flash of lighting struck outside followed by a series of three more strikes that you struggled not to let yourself get blinded by and instead keep your eyes on the man you were actually here for.

In the next moment though the power flickered and then everything went dark. Son of a bitch this shit needed to make up its fucking mind. Again shots rang out just before glass shattered as you hurried to flip down your night vision once more. When you finally managed to see what had happened the scene in front of you made your shoulders tense in response. A small pit settled in your stomach as you stared down at the floor.

One of the women was lying dead on the ground, the place where the bullet had gone through and left a hole in her skull covered by the headwear she wore. The other woman, presumably her sister, was reaching for and cradling her head as she drug the limp corpse into her lap. Sobs racked her body as she did and when the door to their left opened you lifted your gun instinctively at whoever was coming through. When three young girls quickly ran to their mothers in the dark though you felt that pit beginning to widen. Especially as you caught sight of the blood already soaking into the rug on the floor.

Holy shit. You let the barrel of the gun lower slowly before you reached up to the radio attached to your vest and spoke quickly, “One of the wives is dead, Amaan killed her. He’s gone, but I can still get him, Captain.” Silence took over the line as the sound of a second Scottish voice entered the hallway from a distance. Your mind was anywhere but the three men now outside the door though, you had other things to worry about.

You took a quick step up onto the bed and moved over it to the now opened window. Glancing out quickly at the torrential downpour your eyes narrowed as you inspected the narrow ledge of the window and the straight drop down. Time for retrieval was escaping, Price needed to make a decision and he needed to make it now before his opinion became obsolete. “Speck…” There was a hint of warning in his voice as he said your name, making your jaw tense once more as you glanced the other way down the street towards where Price was nestled in a building somewhere. You caught sight of Amaan’s retreating form as he tried to make his escape for the second time from your team. John was out of time to make a decision now.

“Fuck it,” you drawled out the words as you used the stock of the gun to clear out the larger shards of glass still stuck to the frame. In the next moment you were climbing through the window before you pressed the button on your radio and growled out, “I’m going after him.” It wasn’t a request this time, it was a statement. You were going after him. A woman had died and Watcher was injured and you couldn’t let his sacrifice go to waste…Not if the worst happened.

Glancing down quickly you found the awaiting gaze as you commanded, “Bleib,” and watched the dog’s focus narrow onto you and you alone. Both of you were now actively ignoring the crying children and the one woman still left to deal with the three children. They weren’t your problem to deal with anymore though, you had other things to worry about. Like how far this drop was gonna be and how you were gonna catch up to that slippery bastard. It was time to treat this just like any other obstacle course or training drill now. Just get it done, put this bullshit to rest. 

As you clung to the ledge of the window your eyes searched for the easiest path to the ground, and you could feel your fingers slipping just slightly as you fought to hang on. The shining gutter on the right caught your gaze as you swung yourself off the ledge of the broken window and towards it. Your hands couldn’t grip it all that well but before you slid down you managed to get your feet around it as you controlled your descent to the street below. It only barely broke what would have been a bone-breaking fall, but it broke it enough that you could ignore the pain in your knees and turn to yell up, “Hier.”

Only a moment passed before Cerberus launched himself through the window and you saw his head tilt down as he looked for you. Reminiscent of the way he had launched off the top of the training wall during the training run with full faith you would be there to catch him. It was all the same to him, work and training were no different. So long as you were there he couldn’t have cared less about the situation that he was in while doing it.

Your arms lifted as you took a couple steps back before the weight of the dog landed on your outstretched forearms and you cushioned his fall. Without another moment of thought you  issued a quick, “Fuss,” and then turned down the street and took off at a sprint, not bothering to check on Cerberus. There was no doubt in your mind that he had slipped into his place at your side. 

Where had Amaan been when you last saw him? You were struggling to remember now. He’d turned down a side road and disappeared between the buildings, you could recall that much at least. But had he been at the dead end of this street? He had been, right? Yeah of course he had. For sure…Maybe? Fuck.

“I’ve got eyes on Amaan,” the deep voice sounded akin to the rumble of an engine in your ear as he answered a question you hadn’t even dared to utter. “Three streets to your north, Speck. Move fast, I don’t have eyes anymore,” the callout made your head whip to your right just as you began to pass a side street. It only took a quick glance for you to catch sight of the man in question once more.

Oh yeah, you were definitely faster than that fucker. You could catch up to him easily, you just had to put everything clouding your mind out of it. None of that was important right now. All you had to do was get yourself and Cerberus out of this mess alive now. That was it.

You slipped in the wet streets as you took the hard turn and started after him. Ahead he darted out of sight back towards the west and you had to raise a hand to shield your eyes from the rain pouring into your face. Even your eyelashes were beginning to drip as the thunder continued to rumble overhead and another flash of lightning lit up the sky. Had you been standing still you might have even gotten cold with how wet everything around you was, but with your arms and legs pumping you didn’t exactly have the chance. Instead your skin felt like fire beneath the tight, black shirt and comparatively loose, black cargo pants you’d donned for the mission.

The dog beside you was focused ahead and for the first time it seemed you weren’t the only thing on his mind. Cerberus was well aware that the chase was on. You’d both been on enough together that it wasn’t all that surprising he had realized what was happening by now.

The gun in your hands and the gear strapped to your body felt like a weight dragging you down into the streets that were now turning into mud as you neared the poorer parts of the city. The water that had soaked into your shirt and pants was becoming a fifty pound burden as it slowed your typically light and agile form. You could only hope that Cerberus’ thick-furred body wasn’t feeling the same in these conditions. One of you slowed down was enough cause for concern, the both of you being drug down was beyond concerning.

As Amaan’s head whipped around to find you, you watched his form take another turn, he knew he was being followed. Lovely. He was trying to shake his tail and if you lost sight of him for too long he might very well be able to do that. Cerberus couldn’t track in these conditions…Well that was a lie, he could do it. It would just be painstaking and it was doubtful you’d end with your query in hand anyway, and you weren’t about to let Watcher get shot trying to get this fucker and then have to find out that the bitch got away again. And if the worst happened…Fuck why hadn’t you hurried the fuck up in that stupid fuckin room?

A pit opened in your stomach as your mind tried to backtrack. Son of a bitch you couldn’t be thinking about all of that. Drown it out and focus Speck, for the love of God and all that’s right and holy in this world fucking focus. He wasn’t the priority right now, not yours anyway. Konig was more than willing to take care of the kid and Watcher didn’t need your worry or your pity. Right now you needed to think rationally not with whatever the fuck else your mind was trying to force on you.

Even as the thoughts crossed your mind you heard the crack of the mic as words spilled through, “Someone get the fucking van. We’ve got to get the fuck oot of here.” Soap’s tone didn’t hold worry so much as it did urgency. A need to get out of what had turned into quite literally a bloody mess before things got even worse, or so you assumed. You weren’t exactly there to see how things were going since you left.

“On it,” Ghost’s deep voice answered back immediately just as the man you were chasing made another turn and forced your focus back to him completely. This slippery bastard was gonna be the death of your knees with all these fucking turns.

Catch him, stop him, hell kill him if need be. Fuck the info you could get from him at this point, you’d rather know this was over than worry about some intel. Just end his life and finish this bullshit. You turned the corner around a tall fence and were met with an empty dead end street. Your gaze darted back and forth from the collapsing building on one side and the tall, chain link fence on the other side as thunder continued to rumble overhead. “Where the fuck-”

Pacing back and forth in the alley your mind worked quickly towards a viable solution. One hesitant step forward and then a quick turn back and your eyes slid over the fence next to you. Mud had kicked up on it. No, that was way too high to be from anyone just running by. You froze as you looked at it for a moment, watching as gravity played its part and the silty mud dripped slowly down the fence.

This fuckin guy…

In the same moment you saw him through the small holes of the fence as he weaved around a car and disappeared from sight once more. It didn’t take you a second longer to start climbing over after him as you hauled yourself up towards the top. At least until you swung a leg over and then stopped, your eyes surveying the broken down cars and junk piled around the fenced in area. One hand braced against the top as you held yourself in place while the other still held the gun nestled tight against your shoulder as you waited a second.

Stop and take in your surroundings Speck, get your fucking head on right or you’re gonna get yourself killed. There he was. Your brows furrowed and then lowered into a look of frustration as you watched him. The figure's hands were clinging to the opposite fence as he desperately tried to pull himself up.

When he turned to glance back a flash of anger curled your lip up instantly and you couldn’t stop yourself. You lifted the gun and without even a thought your other hand steadied your aim as you fired at the man. Every muscle tensed as you watched him fall backwards off the fence, a yell of pain just barely audible in the rain he reached for his shoulder. You watched for another moment, still holding the gun up though you didn’t really expect him to move again.

But it was raining, it was dark, and you weren’t exactly shooting from a good spot as you straddled the fence. There was just barely a flash of metal that you caught before you instinctively dove head first off the fence and for cover. At least you could take comfort in the fact that the man was on the opposite side of the yard in complete darkness and without your technology to aid him.

Gunshots sounded off from the other side of the fenced in lot as your shoulder slammed into the mud below and you clamped your mouth shut. Don’t yell, that was the last thing you needed. You pushed yourself across the ground as you tried to gather your thoughts and your broken body. One hand was still holding the gun out of the mud as you used the other to push yourself up. You braced yourself against a broken down car as you searched the lot once more for movement. You could only hope he was too stupid to reposition himself. 

The thought that Cerberus had still been on the other side of the fence didn’t quite register until you heard the clink of metal and the scratch of claws on chain link fence over your shoulder. Fear rushed through you for the first time the whole mission as you heard another round of shots fire off from across the lot. You could only hope he was firing blindly into the night and that he hadn’t somehow caught sight of Cerberus in this darkness.

Your gaze darted up as confusion swirled in your eyes along with a hint of pain you were trying to ignore as well. Without any command the dog had leaped the fence as his resolve and patience finally wore thin and ran out. Mud and water sprayed up into his thick, brindle fur as Cerberus hit the ground. He didn’t even take a second to listen to anything you had to say. It was apparent that he was running on instinct, completely wild and untamed now. It wasn’t exactly something you would be inclined to praise in another situation but right here in the middle of a storm and with both of your lives on the line the longer you remained outside the wire you didn’t attempt to stop him this time.

Cerberus, a missile across the ground even in the bog that was this…Was this a fucking junkyard? Oh yeah without a doubt, especially as you hopped the decrepit car you had almost landed on top of. You tried to follow the dog but he was impossibly fast and a thousand times more capable of flitting into the opened skeletons of dead cars. He disappeared from sight as he dove through one frame of a car and scrambled out the window on the other side.

And then he disappeared from sight as you vaulted another car and tried to follow after him. As you jumped to the next car you heard a scream rip through the air. The sight of the person who uttered it was blocked by a stand of cars though as you continued to wind through the junkyard. Rain continued to pound down on your helmet and drowned out the splashing of mud and water as Cerberus wrestled Amaan to the ground. You weren’t there to see the way the skin tore as the man struggled to get away from the iron jaws around his forearm. Nor did you see his arm as it was nearly torn apart and off by the animal that was operating completely rogue at this point.

As you vaulted another car just beside the stand that was blocking your sight your eyes landed on the violently shaking head as Cerberus’ jaws and body kept the man pinned to the ground. Almost dragging him over the mud and now covered the man as you took a slow step forward. You found yourself reveling in the man’s screams, enjoying them. He was a vile man, a demon that had come to visit the mortal world and you couldn’t help the peace you felt watching Cerberus work. This man had killed so many, hurt even more both physically and emotionally with the death he had wrought on this realm. He deserved this. He deserved to feel a fraction of the pain he himself had caused.

“Speck!?” A voice yelled into your ear piece, raspy and deep and probably the only thing that could have caught your attention at this point. He always caught your attention. Your eyes darted around you for just a moment as if you expected to find the man somewhere around you before Amaan’s screams reached your ears again. Growls from the dog in front of you drew your eyes just in time to see the man’s free hand reach for the gun he’d dropped when Cerberus had initially taken him down.

Again your lip curled up in response as you aimed at the perpetrating hand and sent a round straight through the back of his palm. A fresh scream tore from his throat before he drew his hand back towards him in an attempt to protect it. Taking a step forward you knelt on his back before grabbing one of the zip ties that hung from the pouch at your waist. With one quick, “Aus,” the animal’s jaws relented and fresh blood pooled out of the wounds as he did.

His loud barks thundered in your ears even louder than mother nature’s ruckus overhead. It was still all a game to him, even if he had broken his hold for a moment he still thought it was just a game. There was no distinction between play, training, and work, and you’d used him not as a tool but as revenge this time. What the fuck were you doing?

“Speck, answer me!” His voice broke you from your thoughts again as you shot a glance down to the wire connecting your earpiece and the mic around your throat. Hurriedly you drug the man’s arms behind his back, smiling as he groaned out in pain and said a few garbled words you couldn’t make out in the storm. You tightened the plastic around his wrists before standing back up with your foot on the middle of his back to hold him in place. Amaan wriggled helplessly in the mud as rain still poured over the both of you in the dark din of the storm.

Swallowing hard, you took a deep breath and reached up to press the button on the mic, “Junkyard.” Well that was certainly descriptive now wasn’t it? Good God Speck, say something else, give them something else to go off of. What else could you give them?

Your eyes darted around the fenced in lot as you actively ignored the man still writhing beneath your foot. Think, Speck, think of something else to say, there had to be some other way to tell him exactly where you were. “I’m about a hundred and fifty meters from my last known,” silence encapsulated you for the first time that night, even the tumultuous skies overhead went quiet seeming to sense the urgency of this situation. Cerberus had fallen silent at your side as well, his eyes still watching the man at your feet in what was as close to a daring look as you’d ever seen, if a dog were even capable of that.

Seconds passed by as you waited for someone to answer you. Any reply at all to set your nerves at ease. Finally, John’s voice rumbled in your ear again as he asked, “Did you get him?” You could sense the hope in his voice even over the radio, a daring want for this to finally be over.

Your gaze slid to the man beneath you as you rolled Amaan over onto his back with your boot and glared down at him. His teeth were gritted and his lips peeled back over his teeth as he tried to hold back the sounds of pain he was no doubt feeling as he laid on several injuries to his limbs. “Oh yeah, Captain, you bet your fuckin ass I got him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bloody hand prints painted the white metal floors and walls as the false panel of the van sat open in front of you. Your jaw tightened as you looked at the evidence of what had happened on this latest mission, the blood that had been spilled on both sides of this war tonight. You were standing at the back of the van with your knees pressing against the bumper, and despite how empty it made you feel you couldn’t find the will to look away from the mess before you. 

Even Gaz passing in front of your gaze couldn’t interrupt your rushing thoughts. Your mind went idle as you watched him spraying the blood out of the back, your arms crossed over your face as you stayed put. Mud still caked nearly every inch of your clothed body after you’d all but rolled in it back in that junkyard. While both specks of blood and dried mud decorated your face like the makeup a toddler would have painted across your skin. Even strands of your beard were stuck together with the dried, brown substance as it cracked every time you reached a hand up to run your fingers through it. You watched with every muscle tensed as the bloody water dripped out onto the cement floor before it disappeared underneath the van to head down the drain.

Not all of the blood was Watcher's at least, half of it belonged to Amaan after Cerberus had nearly torn his arm off at the elbow. You should have let him do it too. It was what that fucker deserved after he shot that poor kid. Sure Watcher had signed up for this just like anyone else had, but it didn’t mean that the whole team wasn’t still feeling this hit. Even you were as new to them as you were.

A door opened somewhere behind you and still you stared ahead as Gaz continued to clean up his friend’s blood slowly, seemingly as lost in his own head as you were. You certainly weren’t blaming him. “Speck,” the deep voice broke your concentration as you turned to eye the perpetrator with a cocked brow. 

John came to a stop beside you finally and you caught his gaze just as it landed on your face. He’d been in an interrogation with Ghost and Amaan for the past few hours as you all waited for the sun to set once more, not to mention the tail end of the storm that was still raging overhead. Your arms dropped from your chest as you turned towards him, your head tilting quizzically. Jesus you needed to get out of your fucking head, that was never a good place to be. “Did he talk? What’d he say?”

Blue eyes held you hostage in their gaze, his hand finding yours as he stood there. It was only for a fleeting moment though, not nearly long enough for either of you. Only a passing graze over the rough texture of your palm that was still dyed a deep red. His index finger felt like a feather ghosting over your skin just as the rest of his hand wrapped around yours. John’s thumb grazed over the back of your knuckles before he pulled away so that the only other man present didn’t see and shook his head in answer, “No he didn’t. I doubt he’ll talk any time soon, Speck.” At his words a flash of frustration passed across your gaze as your eyes flicked towards the door that led into the main room of the safehouse.

You’d been here before in this safehouse, been at the end of this interrogation once already. So why was the only thought crossing your mind, ‘They ain’t tryin’ hard ‘nough.’ They knew what they were doing, you knew that, but you couldn’t help but feel like you could do more. There was this need to seize control in such an unsure situation that scratched at the back of your mind, it was the way you’d been trained. Thrown at problems relentlessly and told to figure it out, it was the only thing in life you’d ever been good at. Or at least that was what you had always told yourself. 

Your features darkened but you didn’t give him a chance to see as you stepped away from him without a word and your eyes shot to the door as you headed straight towards the door back into the safehouse. Until fingers wrapped around your bicep and John intercepted your progress, putting himself between you and the door. “Just let me give it a go, John,” even before you finished though the other’s head was shaking. His strong grip stayed securely around your arm as his other hand came up to rest gently against your chest. Warmth spread into your skin from his palm as it laid against the gear you still hadn’t stripped out of. His head continued to shake even as you pleaded helplessly, “You’ve been in there for hours, he’s obviously not all that afraid of you. Let me-”

“No,” John’s firm answer resonated through the small garage and you heard the hosepipe stop behind you, though the gaze leveled in front of you held you frozen in place. This was the man who had soothed the raging inferno of your temper in the worst of times, and after letting Cerberus nearly tear Amaan apart that fire had burned out to a barely smoking ember as you questioned everything about yourself. You needed something to ground you and as the realization hit you couldn’t help the small huff you let out because of course you did. When did you not need him to stabilize your deteriorating mental state of late? Pathetic. “Go clean yourself up, Speck. Take a break.” Your jaw tensed as you neared an overt refusal of his suggestion. When he sighed deep though and you had to watch his head tilt as he leaned a bit closer, “You smell like shite, Love. Trust me, yeah? We know what we’re doing.” Trust him. Damn.

Your eyes hit the ground immediately as you took a step back to put some distance between y’all. Shrugging his hand off your arm his other hand fell off of your chest and the cold you’d been ignoring began to set into what felt like your very soul. A deep chill rushed through you though you kept your head on as you nodded a hesitant answer, “Yeah, John, I know.” You glanced back over your shoulder towards the van just as Gaz turned his back in an attempt to give some semblance of privacy. Surprising. Turning back to the Brit you found the ocean depths in front of you and took a slow breath, “Where’s the bathroom?” You watched as his shoulders visibly relaxed in front of you and he curled up the corner of his mouth in a half smile.

Nodding his head towards the other door that led off the garage he lifted his arms to cross them over his chest before answering, “Through the door and down the hall on the left.” You nodded slowly and turned, leaving him behind as you headed to clean yourself up. Cerberus lifted his head as you passed where he was laying against the wall. 

The smell of wet dog and the pungent, metallic tang of blood wafted up your way as you went, nearly choking you with the severity of it. Smells had never really bothered you before, but now you felt a roiling in your gut as you neared and unconsciously sped up past him. Cerberus’ head fell back down to the concrete as you passed, failing to signal or call for him. The Dutchie could wait until y’all were back at base, there wouldn’t be much you could do for the smell right now anyway. You’d let him sleep for a bit now, he’d earned that much at least.

Opening the door you stepped through the threshold, letting the darkness of the hallway swallow you into its embrace as your hand reached out to slide along the wall. You weren’t even sure you were actually walking, not until your fingers ran over the knob of a door on the left hand side of the walland you pushed it open. Fumbling for just a moment your hand searched the wall beside the door before you flipped the lightswitch on the wall and your eyes ran over the small bathroom. Your eyes froze as they found the mirror on the wall, swallowing hard as you took in the sight.

You hadn’t truly looked at yourself in so long now that it was hard to recognize the mud and blood covered man who stared back at you. Sure you had shaved in a mirror on occasion or seen yourself in the reflection of a window when you passed, this was different though. You hadn’t actually taken the time to gaze upon the visage of what you had become over what was now nearly three years. Hadn’t let yourself realize this was your life and you had ruined it. And as you looked at yourself you slowly began to realize you no longer recognized the man who looked back.

The deaths you had lived through had changed you, they’d rewritten the etched lines on your face and put patches of gray in your hair. You’d still been a young man when you’d lost them, as carefree as you could have been living that lie anyway. Your mind had still been that of a teenager and in some ways it still was, but you’d lost that bright, young smile and carefree attitude. They had made you callous to the pain of others and you’d lost some of yourself over the years. And what made it all so much worse was that you hadn’t even realized it until Cerberus’ teeth had been tearing flesh from Amaan’s forearm. Hell you’d been more than ready to kill a man who had simply been doing his job and Wade hadn’t deserved that.

Your eyes dropped to the sink below, blinking as you cleared your thoughts of the man you’d seen in the mirror. Taking a deep breath you flipped the water on, trying to smother the way your heart was racing and how clouded your mind was becoming. Water from the faucet ran cold over your hands as you tested the water before sighing and reaching up to the straps of your tactical vest. You stripped it off over your head with a vicious pull and threw it into the floor, the panic still rising as you fought to keep it together. Rolling your shoulders and head you felt the tension in every muscle and you could only wish for a shower at that moment, something warm to melt the ice forming in your veins. Fuck you wanted, no you needed a damn shower.

The skin tight shirt clinging to your torso was still damp and made chills rack your body as you stood there. Reaching down to the hem of the shirt you pulled the thin fabric up over your head and glanced down at the pink droplets of water left behind on your chest that had seeped through the fabric. Diluted by water and mud you watched as they slid down your chest and disappeared into the waistband of your pants.

Christ you were still thinking too much. You leaned down over the sink and cupped your hands underneath the water as the blood that had been caked on your hands and in the grooves of your fingernails began to wash down the sink. Mud turned the typically bright red into a darkened ruddy color as it added to the already dirtied sink. The stains on your hands slowly began to dissipate as you leaned your face towards the sink and dipped your head beneath the water. Running your fingers through your hair and beard you could feel the dried mud and blood begin to loosen in the strands, doing your best to clean up in the small space.

Slowly you lifted your head back up, running your hands vigorously over your hair as if they themselves were towels and in the same moment you heard drops of water hit the murky liquid still attempting to drain below. Your hands braced on either side of the sink’s bowl as you stared down at the rust colored water below. You should have been better, been there. Why hadn’t you been the first one through that door? Because you’d been too busy dealing with non-combatants. You should have been fucking quicker. The tips of your fingers tapped a steady rhythm against the side of the sink as you got lost in the realm of your thoughts once more unable to pull yourself from them.

“Speck,” immediately your head jerked up at the deep voice right behind you and your eyes shifted to his reflection in the mirror, focusing on the face that now stared back at you. The brunette beard drew your gaze first but only for a moment before it shot up to the deep depths of what was quickly becoming your only place of safety and calm. John was the one who broke your locked eyes as he turned to look out of the door before he closed it behind him with a soft, barely audible whisper of sound. In fact the only noise was that of the lock clicking into place though you barely even noticed because your eyes were glued only to that face, completely incapable of looking away. Stock still in his presence.

Turning your head cautiously you glanced over your shoulder, watching him now out of the corner of your eye. Even that was too much though and had your face and the rest of your body warming in response. The second he was there though your mind stopped whirling. How could it not when the only thought running through your mind was, ‘He looks good in black, he should wear it more often.’ The tempest that was raging had come to a halt in the eye of the storm the moment you were captured by his eyes. Standing back up straight you turned, just barely enough to look at him and with one hand still holding on to the sink for support for fear your knees were going to give out.

You watched him for a moment in the precarious silence of the room, in the whole building really, before his head tilted. The blue gaze was unable to stop its descent down your bared chest though, giving his thoughts away like a snitch. There was no doubt he was tracing the droplets of water that were dripping from the strands of your hair and beard and falling over your skin. Without meeting your gaze again and while he was still inspecting the scars and muscle along your stomach and chest, he asked in a voice still laced with concern, “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

Good Lord that was the last thing you wanted to fucking do. Talk about feelings? Right now? Fuck that. There was no way in the fucking world you were gonna allow the boner killer that were your thoughts out. Your fingers loosened on the side of the sink as you turned fully towards him. You needed a distraction, something to pass the time. You needed him.

There wasn’t exactly much space to cover in the small bathroom, only a few inches at most. You were across the short space at the speed of light. Probably faster if you were being honest. One of your hands ran over his cheek before it wrapped around the back of his head to tangle into his short brunette strands there. Your lips pressed to his gently at first before something more needy and wanting overcame you.

His body went rigid at the initial contact, almost like he seemed unsure of what you were doing. Surprised maybe? At least that was until your hand slid against his hip to run across the small of his back and you pulled him closer. You could feel his muscles start to melt in response to your touch then before he was matching your neediness. Matching the desire you had for him at every moment of the day. His need for you was shining through just as much as yours was and God if that didn’t feel just fucking amazing.

For once it wasn’t Price jumping on you, in fact you could still sense some hint of hesitation despite his hungry, devouring mouth still pressed to yours. Your hips grinded against his and you could feel yourself twitching in response, still confined to the tight fabric of your pants. Desire and need and some tail end of an adrenaline high fueled your movements like throwing gasoline on a fire. When John pulled his mouth away to take in a breath your lips moved to the corner of his, pressing a kiss there and then down across his beard and caught the strangled sound of a groan in the air before it cut off.

You were insatiable in your need for him as you nipped at the thin skin of his neck, pressing ever closer to him in search of the warmth you knew radiated from him. Impulsively you sucked at the skin of his throat, not considering the hickey you were probably giving him as you listened to the deep rumble of his throat. It vibrated against your lips and you pressed a quick kiss to the spot before moving a bit lower to do the same thing, his body tensing again in response before melting once more.

Fuck. He tasted like the salty prick of sweat and the earth yet you still couldn’t get enough of it. Enough of him. The fingers that you had tangled into his hair pulled and his chin lifted up in response as you continued to mark his skin. As you continued to claim him as your own even though you knew that he wasn’t yours to claim but fuck he was, wasn’t he? That’s right. He was yours. Yours and only fucking yours.

Your body pushed closer as you shoved him back against the door, trapping him against you and the hard surface as you tried to control yourself to no avail. John didn’t seem to mind too much though as you listened to him let out a huff in response and then he was reciprocating. His hands pulled you impossibly closer as strong fingers grabbed at your hips and you felt him roll your body fluidly against his own. He was urging you on without even needing words and good God it was the sexiest thing you’d ever witnessed.

When his other hand ran over the expanse of your bare back you felt his calluses scratch across your skin, and a noise rumbled deep within you in response. Something primal and animalistic and you could feel John’s body shudder against yours in response. It was a noise you’d never made before that had his hands sliding over your skin and grasping harder at your hips. Searching for something neither of you seemed too certain about yet.

Fuck you wanted him though. You wanted to bury yourself inside of him and never pull out again. You felt like a King when he’d done it to you, you could only imagine how you’d feel sliding into his walls. He’d never let you though. But God did you want it, you wanted him. You wanted just about anything and everything he’d fucking give you or let you take. Fingers grasped at the back of your neck, digging hard into the muscle as you rutted your hips against him again.

You could feel yourself harden at just the thought of fucking him like a man gone feral, and you were well on your way to that exact point. “Spe-” his voice sounded strained as a moan escaped and cut off his pleading voice. When you glanced up through dark lashes you could see his teeth biting into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and part of you wondered if he had. God why was the thought of that so hot? “Speck,” he finally managed to groan out as your thoughts ran rampant with the many different ways you could ravage him right here in this bathroom. “We need to talk.”

Fuckin hell, John, not right now. The hand you had at his waist slipped around to his front as your hand groped blindly at his hardening length. He twitched beneath your palm as his cock strained for more. “Ya really wanna talk right now?” You could barely catch your breath enough to ask the question and to be fair he didn’t seem much better either. Your heart was racing in your chest and your head felt like it was swimming with so many things you couldn’t even begin to identify exactly what it was. At least whatever had been bothering you before was long forgotten now though.

Without waiting for him to answer your mouth was on his neck again as you pressed a trail of gentle kisses on your way up his neck. One after another they pressed into his skin until you felt the hairs of his beard tickling against your lips and the tip of your nose. He hummed in response for a moment before he finally tipped his head back again and groaned out, “Fuck no. Later.” Unable to resist your teasing mouth you felt his throat rumble against your mouth again with pleasure. Slowly, you made your way along the underside of his jaw with your fingers still pulling at the short strands of his hair to keep his head from tilting back down. You were holding him in place with just your body now and the gravity of the situation was starting to sink in.

You were in control. He was letting you do whatever you wanted to him and he wasn’t stopping you. God you could feel him still straining against the fabric that held his erection at bay, the buttons of his pants straining to keep the fabric closed now. Glancing up you watched his face as something close to a smile found his mouth at the attention you were paying to his neck. At the claim you were steadily etching across his skin in what would be small purple bruises in a few hours. Fuck.

Letting go of his hair, both of your hands made for his waist as you grabbed hard at his sides, your thumbs pressing against the bones of his hips hidden just beneath the muscle there. The moment you released his hair though his chin tilted down and you felt his fingers pull your face back in range so he could press his lips to yours. You pulled him off the door with a sharp tug and spun the two of you around slowly as your hands slid behind to grab at his ass. One palm for each perfectly shaped globe.

God he was perfect. All you could think about was how it would feel to sink inside of him, how tight his walls would grip your poor, neglected erection. What he would sound like and what it would feel like to hear him moan as you fucked him until the only thing his foggy mind could think about was you, and how good you felt. You wanted to fuck him stupid, and christ right now you certainly had the stamina too. God just to fuck him until he came on your cock like he’d done to you so many times already.

A strained moan left you at the thought as his teeth sunk into your lip and you pressed him back slowly into the sink. Without so much as a single thought going through your head your hands grabbed at his backside and you lifted him up sliding him backwards to sit on the rim of the sink. He grunted and you felt him stiffen again as he pulled away with a bit of surprise in his eyes. You froze in place with your hands still holding him tightly and with your hips slotted perfectly between his thighs, just a bit too far for either of you to feel any friction though. “Bloody hell, Speck,” his voice was quiet and just barely reached your ears as he watched your expression.

Dark brows furrowed and you watched the tip of his tongue slide out to wet his lips before he leaned forward to press his forehead into yours. His fingers dug into the locks of your hair that had grown out way too long these past months out here, pulling at the strands with a spark of something unidentifiable in his eyes. When your jaw tensed though you saw his mouth turn into a smirk before he muttered, “You’re always surprising me, Love.” The tension in your jaw dissipated slowly as you watched him without a hint of what was going through your head now.

Slowly your face tilted up until you felt your nose tap against his. When you leaned forward again though he pulled away with a teasing shake of his head. You couldn’t help it when your gaze darted down to his lips and narrowed, before you jerked him forward until he was flush with you once more and nearly falling off the sink. Grinding against him you muttered quietly, “Full of those, ain’t I Angel?” The corners of his mouth turned up just a bit more and this time he was the one who bridged the gap as he pulled at the hair still trapped between his fingers and he captured your lips once more.

It didn’t take long before your head was swimming in him once more. After y’all had been stopped last time that feral need for one another was boiling hot and you needed him. Every single thought was lost in the way he felt pressed against you. Lost in the way he kept one hand wrapped around the back of your head and the other was sliding around your throat and then down your chest slowly.

Blunt nails drug over your bare flesh before you felt fingers pulling deftly at the belt around your waist. You couldn’t help the smile that raised the corners of your mouth as he did. Something far more primal than you’d ever felt was clawing its way across your mind now. As his fingers moved on to the buttons of your pants you felt the friction as it grazed over your sensitive member.

You couldn’t stop yourself as you bucked forward towards his hand, your mouth falling agape with a low groan. John’s amusement came out in a short huff as his hand delved inside of the black cargos, pulling your member free quickly. The moan you let out was sinful before he shot forward to cut it off with a hard kiss. Strong fingers slid along your shaft slowly as he swallowed down your quiet groans that you couldn’t hold back despite your desperate attempts. It didn’t seem to matter though, John had no qualms with keeping them quiet himself at this point.

Fingers wrapped around your length as you leaned further into him with a groan. Begging him wordlessly for more. You tilted your head down and you could hear him give a low hum of appreciation at the weight of you in his hand. Your head had already been swimming before he’d even gotten his hand around you, but now? Now you were drowning in the attention he was lavishing upon you in heaping servings.

Still holding tightly onto his backside you knew you were denting his perfect flesh, dotting it with even more bruises. You couldn’t wait to see them. God just the thought was enough to send you near spiraling again. “Fuck John,” you managed to whisper as his free hand moved up to cup your cheek and his thumb ran over your skin with a delicate touch. It shouldn’t have been so intimate. You’d never meant for this to be sensual, you were in a bathroom for fuck’s sake. This should have been rough, quick, distracting, no room for thought. Yet here you were as he tried to hold your gaze with his. 

The need to be something more would never escape you when it came to him, you knew that somewhere deep down, but you couldn’t deal with that, not right now. His thumb grazed slowly along the head of your cock and you barely stopped another moan as you watched his deep blue gaze, your eyes half lidded and barely managing to stay open now. There was a smirk on his face as he realized he had you like putty in his hands once more despite that for the first time you didn’t want to be.

Fuck it. Your hips rolled forward with a fluid motion as you thrusted into his open hand and simultaneously pushed him further back onto the sink. When his head tilted, your eyes shot down to avoid his gaze and your hand slid over his hip and then around to the inside of his thigh.You drug your thumb slowly over the closure of his pants and your fingers dug into the flesh of his thigh he hummed in satisfaction. “When did you become a tease?” His voice was husky as his hips pressed up into what little bit of friction he could get from your feather-light touch. Meanwhile his own hand was still pumping up and down your throbbing length in slow, careful strokes.

Giving him a nonchalant shrug you answered back in a slow drawl, “What can I say?” You pressed your hips closer as your lips once more dipped in search of his neck, wanting to feel his pulse against your sensitive skin. They pressed lightly against the dark stubble, once more tasting the earth and salt of his skin which for once was absent of his usual chocolatey taste that you knew came from his cigars. When you pulled back again your voice was lower as you rumbled out a quiet, “You bring out the best in me, Angel.”

His chin tilted up just before you felt a heel hook around your thigh and he pulled you closer. The hand that was still around your length stilled. It was like he was frozen in place and in that moment you realized just exactly what you were doing to him. This was a two way street, he felt it too. You were doing to him exactly what he always did to you and you couldn’t stop the smile that bled through as you continued to press kisses against his neck and popped the buttons on his pants. The pulse that thudded beneath his skin almost felt like it quickened against your lips.

However, you were certain you felt it quicken when your fingers slid into the waistband of his underwear to graze over the length of his cock. The man beneath your mouth and touch shuddered and squirmed against you, nearly begging for more before you pulled his length free. Your mouth stopped its relentless assault on his neck as you leaned away for just a moment before your forehead tilted down to lay gently against his shoulder. John copied the motion as you felt his beard scratch against your cheek, the longer hairs grazing over your skin and making it tingle with an itch that you ignored.

Both sets of eyes turned down to watch as your hands moved in sync along the length of your erections. Precome welled from the tips slowly and you could feel his calluses catching along the veins of your cock and you knew that yours were doing the same along his. Especially when you heard a mumbled, “Shite,” into your shoulder as he tried to keep himself quiet. The pressure was building though as your heart began to beat a solid rhythm that you felt not only in your chest but throughout your length as well.

This wasn’t the same as being buried inside him but you’d take what he was more than willing to give. Best not to push your luck for now and you’d take anything he gave you in truth. Twisting your wrist at the head of his cock you heard him gasp before his hand let you go and his head tilted back. “Bloody hell, Speck. I can’t-” You repeated the motion and his words turned immediately into a moan as his head tilted back.

There it was. He was losing himself in the moment as you continued to jerk him off, eating up the sight of him getting lost in the way you could make him feel. His mouth was babbling nonsense as he tried to keep his thoughts together and failed miserably. God almighty, you could listen to these breathless gasps for air and his quiet pants for the rest of time and be completely happy standing right there between his thighs.

Blue eyes disappeared behind pale lids and his cheeks flushed red before your eyes. The collar of his shirt dipped just barely low enough that your gaze could pick out the dark dustings of hair at the top of his chest along with the smallest hint of his collarbone. A treat for your eyes just as much as every facial expression was. Good God he was beautiful and you could feel a near painful throb in your length just as you thought it.

When his cheeks flushed deeper your hips bucked forward instinctively, your cock searching for something and something it found as the head of your dick ran along the underside of his. The moment you felt that little bit of friction you just couldn’t stop yourself as your fingers wrapped around both of your leaking erections. Newfound need had your hand pumping quicker and it was obvious both of you were feeling yourselves getting closer and closer to the finish line. Hell John’s mouth was held agape as he tried to catch his breath while the rest of his body worked relentlessly to reach that peak.

One hand held painfully tight on to your shoulder as the other seemed to dig into the side of the sink. His muscles tightened but it wasn’t the same as last time even though you weren’t sure what he was doing. Not until you felt his hips thrust up towards your hand as he tried to speed his climax along. His member ran along the underside of your own as he moved and you sucked in a breath just barely holding in a long moan and instead let it out in a quiet hiss that was covered up by a soft groan of pleasure. “John,” you paused and he hummed in response with his eyes still closed while your hand continued dragging up and down your lengths. “Angel, you’re being too loud. Someone’s gonna hear us.”

John whimpered deep in his throat before it escalated into another moan and you watched as he tried his best to bite it back. Teeth dug into his bottom lip before he leaned his head forward and forced his eyes open to find you. Blue hues searched your face half lidded and lazy as he gazed at you. The blush across his cheeks deepened and the Brit let his mouth fall open again as he panted into the stale air of the bathroom. “Sp-” Your thumb ran over the head of your own cock and gathered some of the precome before continuing on to graze over the tip of his.

This was a completely different man in front of you now. You’d broken him down and God it felt good to know that you even held that  power over him, over anyone really but especially John Price. Even more though was that you had him at your very whim right now, there was no doubt in your mind he’d have given you anything in that moment. John was completely under your spell and you’d never felt more in control of another human being as you did now. “Shhh sweetheart, I’ve got you,” your voice was quiet as your eyes stayed locked for as long as the other could manage. When you said that you had him though and you implied that he could trust you, that he could let go of that dominant persona he always seemed to exude, that was when the last of his resolve evaporated.

You rolled your hips forward again in a fluid motion and as you did the last hand you’d been holding onto him with shot up. Your palm slapped over his mouth and you just barely managed to muffle another whine that would have undoubtedly given the two of you away. John’s head fell back hard and smacked against something behind him but the both of you were too far gone to really piece together what exactly had just happened. Heads so far in the clouds someone could have been firing a gun outside and you would have been none the wiser.

With your hand still muffling the noises he couldn’t hold back and the way he continued to thrust in your still pumping hand you knew he was about to finish soon and you doubted you were going to get a warning. Not with how he was still panting into your hand and the flush on his face only seemed to get deeper by the second. Hell the throb in your own member was beginning to edge nearly into pain as the pressure continued to build, just aching to be set free. 

Fuck you were close, so fucking close now. You couldn’t help the low grunt you let out as your hand tightened around the heads of your erections. Pumping one more time your eyes darted down as you felt his body stiffen and his cock twitch in your hand. Your eyes landed on his cock just in time to watch his cum paint the back of your knuckles and the front of his black cargos. It almost felt wasteful in that moment but in the next you couldn’t even remember what you were thinking about.

He whimpered against the flat of your palm as his body spasmed once and he thrusted into your hand again, another shot spraying along the head of your cock and dripping slowly down your length. Your eyes darted up to find his beet red face as you quickly continued to pump up and down the length of both of your members. Letting him ride out his orgasm while you still hungrily chased your own.

Slowly his muscles unwound and John slumped back against the wall and mirror behind him. Pale eyelids lifted tiredly and revealed the ocean hues to you once more as you pulled your hand away from his mouth finally. You slid it slowly to his cheek as you cupped his face with one hand, still chasing your own climax with the other to no avail. 

The air was too warm against your skin though. Everything felt too tight and too close even though he still wasn’t close enough. You couldn’t imagine how John felt with his t-shirt clinging to him. God why hadn’t you pulled that fucking thing off of him already? You wanted to see his chest now, that gorgeous fucking body that you knew was hidden beneath as you still tried to find your own release.

It was escaping you though, dancing tantalizingly out of reach. When one of Price’s hands wrapped around your wrist and stopped your rapid chase as he mumbled out, “What’s wrong, Love?” The hand that had been cupping his cheek fell away as you ducked your head and your hand fell away from your throbbing member.

It felt like all the energy dissipated from your limbs the moment he stopped you as you leaned forward and relaxed into his chest. Your forehead nudged lightly against his shoulder as his arms wrapped around you and you felt your length dragging against the fabric of his pants still throbbing painfully as the pressure at the base of your cock begged for release. Your own hands settled at the small of his back as you continued to roll your hips forward against him unconsciously. 

As you turned your face into his neck you answered quietly, “Nothins’ wrong. Just tired.” He hummed his acknowledgement of your statement as his fingers traveled slowly down your back and side until he halted at the bone of your hip, his thumb rubbing slow circles into it as he took a pause. You waited a moment before you questioned him quietly, “Why’d you stop?”

John’s shoulders moved up in a quiet shrug before he muttered out, “Thought you said you were tired.” You pulled back to look at his face and found a lazy smirk on his features before his fingers tightened around your hips to keep you from moving too far away.

Your brows furrowed before you gave him an annoyed huff of an answer, “Tired, Angel, not fuckin stupid.” The smirk turned into a look of amusement as his hand trailed across the muscle of your stomach. John’s fingers wrapped gently around your length as you thrusted up into his hand unable to control yourself. You were already nearly gone before he got here, and he was only igniting that inferno again that you’d been afraid had danced too far out of reach. You should have known better when it came to John Price though.

His hand slid down your length once before he released you and lifted his hand to his mouth. You asked a silent question with a tilt of your head but he didn’t need to respond as he spit into the palm of his hand and returned it just as quickly as he’d pulled it away to your length. The burn of his calluses disappeared as his saliva and cum slickened palm slid over your sensitive skin. A much needed relief as his hand tightened around your length and you felt your release racing forward once more. It was crowding in on you so fast now that the fog in your mind was returning with a vengeance. The fog you’d been chasing earlier and been unable to find shelter in was now clouding every thought as you struggled to remember why you’d even been upset.

Your lips parted in a silent gasp as he trailed his thumb against the underside of your cock and then over the head. Leaning forward you tried to capture his lips for a kiss but he pulled away and instead your chin tilted down and you felt your forehead rest against his chin as you panted into the stale air once more. Your gaze traveled slowly down his front to where his hand was pumping steadily over your member. 

Closing your eyes for just a moment you missed it as he added a second hand to the mix. It was the straw that tipped the scale as you hissed out a quiet, “Holy shit.” There was a pulse in your length and then your whole body went rigid. Your hands fell a bit lower on his sides and you jerked John forward to press his chest to yours. You let your eyes shut for a moment and you somehow managed to hold back a moan that would have most definitely traveled beyond these walls as you focused instead on the way his hand felt still traveling up and down your length.

A moment later your muscles began to unwind as you relaxed into the grip he had around your shoulders and John’s hand pumped slowly as the last vestiges of your climax began to dissipate. Everything stayed silent for a few long moments while you regained your thoughts and the fog over your mind cleared in that post-fuck haze. Even though you had been the one in control he still had your head in the fucking clouds. It wasn’t fair and truly you couldn’t have cared less. Not in that moment…Not ever.

#call of duty #ghost cod #ghost #modern warfare #soap cod #soap #john price #captain price #price x reader #captain john price #price x oc #price x male reader #captain price x male reader #captain price x oc #captain price x reader #john price x oc #john price x reader #john price x male reader #konig call of duty #gaz #kyle garrick #gaz cod #konig cod #konig modern warfare #cod modern warfare #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley

[thisnerdywriter]

I believe John Thornton of North and South (spoiler alert) is the most beautifully masculine character ever written in English literature.

Why? Here's why (caution: love ahead, may fall in)

As everyone expects him to be, he seems to be - at first- the hard, icy arrogant businessman indifferent to other's feelings and situations more importantly those below him.

Surprisingly he is damn soft hearty (like the paws of a kitten) who loves his hard tiring life of Milton (a dirty city) and *is* considerate of his workers. He meets Margaret Hale and instantly has a crush on her. He's like, 'shut up, I don't . I am NOT feeling anything like that.' But his mother knows better.

He sees her at the dinner (ahem, organize it for the sole purpose). And gawwdd, he has to stop staring at her, so he ignores her but knows where she is all the time. He flashes his rare smiles knowing she's watching him. Before anything, he is in love with her, despite knowing she's too proud to love him back.

He accepts his love for her when she throws herself in the face of danger to protect him (he's like girl!! you're badass!!) . Now there's no going back. He's grateful for her and truly appreciates her presence in his life.

Without beating around the bush, he goes and confesses (everything. Also the fact that he's never been in love and you made me). Of course she rejected, cuz she's a proud bitch. But you know what he says? This:

"Now I love and I will love. But do not be afraid of too much expression on my part."

OMG LIKE MANNN!!!

He goes away and she catches hints of tears in his eyes. Of course he cried. He did, he went to mamma and when she asks what's up? He crys on her shoulder. A GROWN MAN WHO'S RICH SUCCESSFUL AND HANDSOME CRIES ON HIS MOTHER'S SHOULDER BECAUSE THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE REJECTED HIM!!!!!

He still loves her, he promised he always will. Looks after her family, saves her from humiliation, does her father's funeral and keep in touch with her godfather to know if she's well. He also goes to her hometown to feel how she might have grown up.

The last scenes they finally get together, he presents her a pressed flower from her hometown know she terribly misses going there. Omgggg!!!!!!!! How can anyone write such a beautiful character?????

#dark academia #north and south #elizabeth gaskell #literature #jane austen #Mr. Thornton #mr. darcy #pride and predujice #jane eyre #charlotte bronte #Persuasion #english literature #book nerd #book boyfriend #books #Mr. Tinley #colonel brandon #Mary barton #bookworm

[jimblejamblewritings]

snow falls hot | part 7.

Summary: (Y/N) Snow isn’t a Snow at all. She’s a Targaryen— Rhaegar’s child. Taken in by the Starks, she leads her life as another on of Ned’s bastards. Will she be able to live in Westeros comfortably? More importantly, does she have any ambition to see herself one day on the Iron Throne?

Warnings: it’s game of thrones...

Pairing: gendry x reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

Grey Wind licked your face— the roughness of his tongue woke you up after about two licks. You scratched at his face and the two of you stood up very slowly. Neither of you were in a position to move quickly but had to leave the area. You didn’t trust the woods, they were still Frey territory. There was nowhere for you to go. Winterfell was taken, the Frey were now your enemies, Riverrun was about to be Frey territory, King’s Landing was aware of you marrying Robb.

Warging into Shadow, you had no clue where the dragon had gone— barely getting glimpses before the warging stopped. Whether it was because she was too far away or you were too weak, you weren’t sure. You pleaded with her to find you and hoped that would be enough. Still limping, you and Grey Wind started to leave the woods and go wherever you could.

You were positive Grey Wind was tired of hearing you ramble on about nothing. But he didn’t make a whimper of complaint. Instead, the wolf’s ear stayed alert like he was truly listening to you. You were talking to try and make the journey to nowhere more pleasant. Especially since the two of you were moving slower than normal.

“My mother is from Dorne. She and Rhaegar were childhood friends, like Robb and I. I wonder if she was a bastard or not. Lord Stark could never figure it out, there isn’t much on her. It would be hard to tell. Did you know, Grey Wind, bastards in Dorne are treated pretty well?”

The wolf gave you a short yip in response.

“I know, it was interesting to learn myself. I had siblings. My father’s first wife Elia, they had children. But he fell out of love with her and in love with Lyana, not before crying about it to my mother of course. I think he would have stayed with her if she hadn’t died giving birth to me. They were friends, he probably figured it could blossom into romantic love and he could try to forget about Lyana since she was Robert’s.”

Grey Wind whined and you appreciated the little responses he gave. It made you feel less insane.

“I’m glad you agree with me. My siblings are dead too, the Lannisters killed them. The Lannisters seem to kill everything we love don’t they? Not a good bone comes from that house— not as long as Tywin influences them. Maybe we should go to Dorne?”

Grey Wind stopped and looked at you. You scratched behind his ear.

“I know it is further south than King’s Landing and it’s really hot but it would be safe. Prince Oberyn would probably welcome us, we share a tragedy together. My father makes us kin. Is it too hot for you? Would you at least consider? It isn’t like we are going to make it to Dorne in a matter of days, we’d be lucky to get out the wood in that time.”

Grey Wind snorted what you hoped was a consideration to think about Dorne and you two continued going. Grey Wind abruptly stopped again and pointed his snout in the other direction.

“North? You want to go North? Grey Wind, Winterfell is gone. It has been ta—”

His whining cut you off.

“It is gone! We ca— you don’t want to go to Winterfell… you want to go to The Wall. Jon is at Castle Black, and Maester Aemon. Maybe we should go, but it’s just as dangerous. Lots of enemies could catch us. How about we try to get better first and then we can decide on Castle Black or Dorne, agreed?”

Grey Wind dipped his head and pawed once at the ground. You kept going, jumping at every noise that couldn’t be immediately identified. Hours later and you tripped causing the dire wolf with you to emit a high pitched noise. You assured Grey Wind that you were okay— the wolf not seeming to believe you.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I promise you.”

Grey Wind shoved his muzzle under your arm until you were half leaning on him. You scratched at his fur and let him become a crutch of sorts as you limped. Night fell and you were still in the woods, starting to feel like you would never escape.

~~

Various banners dropped from the ceiling. Slowly each banner caught on fire and turned to ash. Only a few remained, burnt but not ash. Their sigils could still be made out. You reached to touch it. The Stark banner, the banner of the Arryans in the Vale, the Targaryen banner. Your head tilted as you watched ice crystals form on the flags that were on fire only moments ago. Your breath could be seen and you shivered. The whole room had become cold, colder than even the darkest night in Winterfell.

Scratching on your forehead, made you swipe a hand at yourself— eyes still closed but the dream of banners now gone. You could barely move your hand. You and Grey Wind were in the forest. The two of you had stayed in the forest for weeks. Grey Wind barely had food and so did you. Both eating just enough to live. It was becoming a living nightmare, you were already decently far along when you first started heading to the Twins for the Frey Wedding. By the time you had reached the Twins, it was easy to see how pregnant you were. Weeks in the forest meant days closer to giving birth.

Your forehead felt hot and you swiped at it again, this time feeling something scaly. It took effort to open your eyes but finally did, almost scooting back at the sight in front of you. Shadow had gotten bigger and was staring right at you. It had only been weeks, she wasn’t huge but was now the size of Godswood when he died. You couldn’t look, there was no mirror in the forest, but you were positive the roots of your hair were now white as well since Shadow blew fire to try and wake you. The black dye was practically just streaks now.

Shadow dropped the sheep in her mouth at your feet. Grey Wind lifted his head. Both Grey Wind and Shadow made work of tearing the animal apart. Shadow blew a gentle fire until the bits of sheep were cooked. Grey Wind pushed a piece towards you— neither animal would eat until you took the first bite. When they were satisfied that you were fed, they began to eat as well. You reached out and rubbed Shadow.

“You came back.”

She puffed smoke from her nose as if offended you would insinuate she would ever truly leave you. You smiled and took another bite of food.

“Winter is coming,” you told the two creatures.

“I had another dream. Winter is coming and we need to be out of the woods and in a house. Everyone but Robb is still alive, we just need to find them. Jon is at the wall… the Vale… Catelyn’s sister is there, Arya must be there as well. That’s where she has to be or maybe Sansa, and Rickon, Bran. Or Dragonstone. Stannis’ army must be marching soon, from Dragonstone we could go to Essos. I think I have family there.”

Both animals gave passive responses. It didn’t seem they cared anymore at your decision. They would follow wherever you went— Grey Wind didn’t even whine at the mention of going south. You all wanted the same thing. Safety.

“But first, I need an inn or at least a farm. Somewhere to rest until I give birth.”

That made both of the animals snap their heads up like they suddenly remembered you were carrying a child. Shadow led the way and you and Grey Wind— having not had luck for weeks in getting out of the forest— followed her.

It was a mix of flying and walking for your dragon. You were pleased that you and Grey Wind had recovered rather well. Not fast enough for Shadow’s liking but it was because you two were weak from nutrition not from wounds. Shadow had become the primary hunter, able to leave the woods.

You were able to warg into her for longer now that you felt better. A few times you had attempted warging into Grey Wind but it wasn’t happening. You thought you got close once but, never reached that space again. Like before with Grey Wind, you talked to him and Shadow about your dreams and other things.

“Have you two ever heard of a white walker? Years ago Lord Stark killed a deserter. He said things I thought were absolutely ridiculous about white walkers and the dead arising. I’ve been dreaming lately of the cold, scary blue eyes, and nightmare of stories we used to tell the children of Winterfell. It makes me worried.”

The woods became field land. Shadow pulled away, sticking to the few trees and wooded area. It was dangerous for a dragon to still be spotted. It was dangerous for a dire wolf too but that was a chance you would have to take. You spotted a farmer— keen eyes still working.

With a new vigor, you and Grey Wind started towards the man. He lifted his head from work and yelled something. Your feet slowed for a moment, worried that maybe he was an enemy and you two had been too eager at seeing another person. But instead, a woman and some children appeared.

The children ran to you, stopping when they saw Grey Wind. Their faces were a mix of awe and horror. You scooped up the younger ones as best as you could and placed them on Grey Wind’s back, enjoying the delighted shouts that came from them. The older one helped you walk— they held out an arm and escorted you down. The farmer’s family greeted you and asked if you had been fed. You entered the house, face dropping when you spotted the large sword over the mantle. The older boy who escorted you chuckled.

“We won’t hurt you. Used to be a soldier, fought under Karstark banners but I’m back for my parents. We only know allegiance to the just ruler.”

“It’s a shame what they did to your family,” the woman said.

“How—”

“The large wolf is hard to ignore.”

You chuckled. “This is Grey Wind.”

“The King in the North’s wolf? But they said they sewed his wolf’s head onto his body.”

“Darren!” His father scolded.

You almost collapsed, the old woman rushing to help you. Tears you hadn’t shed in weeks threatened to release themselves.

“What did they do to Robb?”

“The Frey beheaded him and they… sewed a direwolf’s head onto his body, parading it around. I’m sorry, I thought you knew.”

“The wolf was mine.”

“Lady Snow…”

The name made your head snap up. It had been so long since you heard that name.

“Stark,” you whispered.

“The marriage had already happened?” the woman asked.

You gave her a somber nod. “It was small. We were going to have a bigger one back in Winterfell.”

“If you don’t mind me asking… is that his—”

“Child? Yes.”

The man made a noise of disapproval. “They killed a man and left his pregnant wife to die. It’s not right, you don’t kill a guest you’ve invited into your home.”

The word home made the weak dam holding your tears back just collapse. You tried to apologize through tears, the family having none of that and assuring you it was fine. You blubbered about having no home to go to anymore, unsure of where the other Stark siblings were. The young girl— the youngest looking of her siblings— placed a hand on your stomach.

“We can be your home.” She looked back at her parents. “For now?”

The farmers nodded. “You can stay as long as you need. I’m afraid we’re not as fancy as you’re used to, Lady Stark.”

A teary, choked out laugh came from your throat. “I’ve been in the forest for months. This is a palace, it’s even better than King’s Landing.”

That made the family smile. Your face morphed into one of pain and the woman was by your side in an instant. You looked at the floor and back up at them.

“The baby,” you whispered before being rushed into a room with a bed.

~~

Eddard Targaryen Stark was a healthy baby. A pleasant surprise when the months before his birth had been so tough on you. The family you were now staying with couldn’t get enough of the baby. Whenever you helped tend the field, one of the children inside was holding Eddard.

They had already started calling him Ned and Little Lord Stark. That brought a smile to your face every time you heard it. What stopped your smiles was whenever you focused on the top of his head. Ned still had newborn hair but you could already see in between the black was a streak of white hair.

The family hadn’t said anything about your hair, Targaryen white was so pale it could’ve been mistaken for the white of old age. Lots of soldiers, young, came back from battle with hair streaked white from stress and fear. All you had experienced since Ned’s beheading was stress and fear. All those events were your flimsy excuse to white curls streaked with black. But baby Ned, it would become obvious.

You would eventually have to tell the family you were with. They still hadn’t seen Shadow. You made a point to visit her every day where she stayed in the forest. Shadow was careful. Whenever you warged into her, you could see that. She stuck to flying super high out of sight if she was going far. Soon she too would be too big to hide from the family.

You were nursing Eddard when the eldest boy, Darren, entered. His mother, Fryda, and younger brother, Nestar, were with him. Darren placed a fur cloak in your lap. Your fingers traced the hard silver clasps shaped like wolves’ heads. You looked down and looked up at the boy.

“It’s King Stark’s. They’ve been selling Northern things for months now, Lord Walder finally decided to part with it. Roose Bolton had no desire to wear it.”

Fryda and Nestar presented you with other gifts. Your bow and arrow as well as Robb’s sword. You placed a hand on Nestar’s cheek.

“How much did this cost you all? You did not have to do this.”

“We did,” Fryda said. “They are yours. Those men who take it as their own have no honor, no shame.”

“I will pay you back.”

“Nonsense. You work here for nothing, saving us hours of tilling.”

“Eddard and I are two more mouths to feed. We’re lucky that Grey Wind can hunt for his own.”

“Little Lord is not eating us out of house and home, neither are you. Take the gifts.”

“I can never thank you enough. One day, I will. When Eddard is a bit bigger, I’ll go and come back with more than you could imagine. There’s riches to spare in a few places I know, I just have to be smart in getting them.”

“In Winterfell?” Nestar asked.

“Winterfell, King’s Landing, more.”

“Like Old Valyria?” Darren asked.

Your eyes went wide and he laughed. “I was one of the men at the wedding, my Queen. Right behind Lord Karstark, I wasn’t sure if you remembered me.”

“I’m sorry for not recognizing your face. Why did you not say something sooner?”

“You seemed like you didn’t want many to know.”

“Know what?” His father, Waylar, entered with the youngest two— both girls, Kylis and Rosyn.

You looked at Darren who nodded at you. With the whole family present, you cleared your throat to speak.

“Before I married Robb my last name wasn’t Snow, it was Targaryen.”

It was silent for a moment. Grey Wind, who had been curled by the fire, raised up. He was ready to defend you and Eddard— even from the children. Kylis ran to the window, confusing you for a moment. She looked out excitedly and then back to you.

“Do you have a dragon?”

You warged into Shadow and called her home. The thump of a dragon made the whole family gasp. They ran outside to see the large creature. Before you could yell at the children to be careful, they had already reached Shadow. You were prepared to warg into her again to keep her docile. But she let them pet her and try to climb her wings. Darren, Fryda, and Waylar stayed behind next to you. Adults always found a dragon terrifying. Slowly, with assurance from you, they approached Shadow as well.

“All my life,” Fryda started. “I never thought I’d see a dragon, let alone pet one.”

“The Queen of the Seven Kingdoms is back and a her little prince,” Darren said as he pet Shadow.

You shook your head. “Not anymore, isn’t that right, Eddard? That is not us.”

The family looked at you— Darren, Fryda, and Waylar sharing a look. None of them said anything but when back to petting the dragon.

(Part 8)...

#game of thrones fic #asoiaf fic #gendry x reader

[meegan420]

Hi I love All your Creations you make!! I especially love your 🧚🏼‍♀️fairy critter creations! Your SP art is amaze as well!Ty for making them and sharing them with us!!!

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[silvrash-797]

@webhead3345 here's the next part of your ask!

Roll for stealth... (pt 2)

Day 16+24: came back wrong/doing this because I care about you

There are injuries mentioned close to the end of the fic, but nothing graphic

Part 1 | Part 3

Read on ao3

I left him. I left him, I left him, I left him! The thought pounded through Twilight's brain in time with the thud of his paws against the shifting sands. Against his better judgment, he had left his Cub surrounded by assassins who wanted nothing more than his death to escort a fully-trained Gerudo warrior home. He knew his wild Cub was strong and resourceful, but he’d also seen how many Yiga were there.

The longer they took to get help, the less likely it was that his Cub would survive this encounter.

As soon as Twilight was sure Buliara was on her way safely back to Gerudo town with Link's sand seal, he tapped into the Goddess’s magic that allowed him to teleport without Midna's help, letting it pull him back to the Daqo Chisay shrine.

He shook out his coat and turned the Twili magic of his shadow crystal away from his body with a thought, grateful the Goddess let him shift back to Hylian. He truly thought he’d be stuck as a wolf until his Cub's journey was complete – she must understand how much he cares for the kid.

Now he just had to pray to Ordona and any other god who would listen that Riju would allow a meeting. He didn’t have a way to sneak into town like his Cub did.

Trudging to the main gate, Twilight stopped just before the pair of Gerudo guards could cross their spears before him.

“No voe are allowed into town!” the guard on the left warned. “Leave!”

Twilight held up his hands and stepped back a pace, not wanting to antagonize the warriors. “I understand,” he reassured them, “but I must request an audience with Lady Riju, it’s urgent.”

The guards’ eyes narrowed behind their masks; Twilight could sense the time they were losing slipping through his fingers like the sand at his feet.

“Please, I am not Yiga. I come bearing news of the Hero, Link.”

Shock passed briefly across their faces, then one nodded, turning into town. The other guard kept her spear pointed at him, eyes never leaving his. Twilight tried not to fidget, but his nerves were straining raw with each second that passed.

Finally, the guard returned, declaring, “The Chief will meet you at the sand seal rally south of town. The guards at that entrance have been warned to keep an eye on you. Make no attempts to enter town, and your audience will be granted.”

Twilight couldn’t help his relieved sigh. One step closer. Hold on, Cub. “Thank you,” he breathed, turning to make his way around town as fast as he comfortably could on two legs. He wanted to shift back, but there were too many eyes on him. He’d have to remain Hylian for now.

Riju was already waiting at the rally when he arrived. “Sav'otta,” she greeted. “You are the Hylian voe who requested an audience?”

“I am, Lady Riju.”

“And you have news about Link?” She was hiding it well, but Twilight could sense she was nervous. “I saw him but half a day ago. What news could you possibly have?”

How best to explain…he held up his left hand, where the mark of the Triforce shone softly. “I am Link, the Hero of Twilight from an age long past, sent here by Hylia to help Link with his journey. I…am also the wolf that went with him, to rescue Buliara.”

Riju's eyes narrowed. “Prove it.”

Twilight flinched, remembering calls of monster from his loved ones during his quest. It’s okay, he told himself, she needs to know, needs to trust. I’m doing this because I care for him, she’s already seen my wolf form and is fine with it. Taking a deep breath, he gathered the Twili magic close, crouching as it washed over him. As his form settled, he sat on his haunches, ears pricked, panting in what he hoped was a friendly way.

Riju breathed an astonished laugh, coming closer and running her hand through the fur at his neck. “You truly are his Wolfie!” she exclaimed. “Thank you for helping him.”

Twilight nodded, relieved, then stepped away to shift back.

As he stood, Riju’s face turned serious again. “What news do you have, Link, Hero of Twilight?”

“We found Buliara without incident, but were surrounded by Yiga before we could compete our escape,” he explained, pacing as he retold the tale. “Link…stayed behind, sending Buliara and me ahead. She’s on her way with Link's sand seal, but I fear what may have happened to Link, since he hasn’t arrived at the shrine.”

He faced the Chief, unable to help the pleading in his voice. “Please, Lady Riju. He’s like family to me; I have to go back for him, but I can’t do it alone.”

Moment of truth. “Will you lend me some of your warriors to go bring him back?”

Riju gazed at him for a long moment, then smiled and touched his arm. “Link tamed Vah Naboris and earned the trust of every warrior here. I’m certain many would go with you. Meet us by the northwestern gate in an hour.”

Twilight could have wept with gratitude. “Thank you,” he murmured huskily. Riju smiled at him, then turned back to town. Please, Cub, he thought, please be okay.

Twilight paced through the sand at the northwestern gate, too wound up to rest. Every moment that passed burned at his soul, tempered only by the relief that washed over him as his keen ears picked up the sound of a veritable army approaching from within the town.

Riju led the way, nearly every able-bodied Gerudo warrior – all armed to the teeth – following behind. She stopped a few paces from him, hands on her hips as she grinned up at him. “I told you many would join us.”

The warriors spread out in ranks, all arrayed towards a towering Gerudo woman dressed in the armor of a captain. Twilight knew her from previous visits to the town – Captain Teake.

She stepped out to the fore of the army, raising her voice to the assembled troops. “For too long, the Yiga have threatened our people!” she shouted, “For too long, we have let them grow and fester! They captured Barta and stole our Thunder Helm. They kidnapped Buliara and held her hostage. Now, they have captured our Hero! This. Cannot. Stand!”

The assembled warriors roared in agreement, banging weapons on shields.

“It is a long march to Karusa Valley, but we will not be stopped! We march to eliminate the Yiga threat and rescue the Hero Link! May the Heroines grant us the spirit and endurance to succeed!”

This time Twilight joined the shouts of the warriors as they finally stepped out. Hold on Cub! We’re coming!

-----

The trek through the desert took twelve long, grueling hours at a quick march, but no one complained. They’d crossed paths with Buliara early in the march and sent her back to oversee protection of the town. Cooling elixirs had been passed around at about the same time, so Twilight was comfortable despite the heat and his many layers. He took vicious pride in eliminating every enemy that came in their path.

Now, as the twilight turned slowly to night, they stood at the arched entryway to the Yiga's hideout.

Riju and Captain Teake turned to Twilight as the warriors gathered around. “You have the most recent experience with this place,” Riju said, “I assume you have an idea where they may be holding Link?”

Twilight nodded, nervous energy building the closer they came to finding his Cub.

“Then lead the way.”

Teake turned to the warriors. “This is not a stealth mission. We will eliminate every Yiga who gets in our way. We follow the Hero of Twilight!”

It was harder to track scents as a Hylian, but he did retain many of his enhanced senses regardless of his form. He led the way through the hideout, past Barta's old cell, down into the prisons where they’d found Buliara, listening intently for the rustle of fabric and paper, trying to smell anything beyond the overwhelming perfume of mighty bananas.

The tang of relatively fresh Hylian blood snagged his attention as they passed one of the cells and the breath froze in his chest. Inside the dim cell he could see drops of blood scattered along the walls and floor, mingled with the crisp-pine-yellow-sunrise scent he’d come to associate with his Cub, although that was soured by fear and pain.

A growl rumbled deep in his chest and his lip curled. They had hurt his Cub! The army had yet to encounter a single Yiga soldier, and his Cub was no longer here. It didn’t bode well.

“Twilight?” Riju touched his arm; it took everything in him to not snap at her. “What’s wrong? Why have you stopped?”

“He was here,” he snarled, “He was here and they hurt him.”

A faint scream reached his ears from deeper in the base, and his heart stuttered. No, please…

He was running before he knew it. He didn’t even care if the Gerudo warriors were behind him. His Cub’s scent was getting stronger, as was the scent of blood. A pained screech rent the air, guiding Twilight on. His heart pounded fit to burst, but he refused to stop. I can’t stop now, not when I’m so close!

The screams stopped. Twilight redoubled his pace, tears pricking his eyes. No, no, nonono!

Twilight chased the freshening scent of his Cub's blood – left, right, around the corner, through the door, down the hallway, another right I’m so close! – liquid fear dripping down his spine as the sounds of someone choking and coughing reached his ears. The hallway he was in ended abruptly at what appeared to be an open-air arena.

The garish red of Yiga jumpsuits were everywhere, each laughing and pointing at something further into the arena. Twilight craned his neck, trying to see through the ocean of masks and topknots, looking towards the focal point.

His heart slammed into his boots, shattering on the dusty ground.

“CUB!!” Fueled by fear and desperation, Twilight plowed through the crowds of Yiga soldiers, the spearhead leading the charge of the attacking Gerudo warriors. He only had eyes for the poor, bloody boy strapped tightly to a stone table, stripped to his underclothes, and the Yiga that stood over his head, pouring a thin stream of water over his Cub’s mouth and nose.

Twilight’s sword jumped to his hand in mere moments, and he’d struck down the surrounding Yiga assassins in a few moments more.

Frantic with worry, he pulled the soaked cloth from Link's face. Dull, frightened eyes stared back at him for a few seconds before the boy fell unconscious.

Twilight wasted no time pulling a dagger from his boot, slicing through the ropes and leather that bound his Cub. As he cut the restraints, he checked for injuries, horrified at the burns and deep lacerations covering nearly every inch of exposed skin.

It wasn’t until the last cuff was cut through that he realized Link hadn’t taken a breath.

Swiftly, Twilight turned the young hero onto his side, intending to hit his back to clear any water from his lungs. He froze as he saw the damage to his Cub’s back. There would be no good way to get Link breathing again, not without hurting him more.

Anguish and indecision roiled inside Twilight, and for one eternal moment he was afraid he’d faint under the weight of the choice on his shoulders. His Cub still wasn’t breathing. He’d have to do something.

A watery blue light began to leak from Link's deepest wounds. Spectral flames encircled his prone form. Twilight made an aborted move towards the kid, but took a step back, watching fearfully as the flames burned brighter.

The only places he hadn’t been able to follow Link into were the shrines and the Divine Beasts. He’d spent the days the kid was inside pacing, worrying, and trying to hunt to take his mind off the worrying. He never knew exactly what happened inside, only that his Cub came out stronger, smarter, faster. His Cub had mentioned gifts from the former Champions, but hadn’t used them, to his knowledge. He could only pray that this light was somehow one of them.

The faintest outline of a Zora woman appeared in the air above his Cub. Slowly, she ran her hands down the length of his battered body. As they passed, bleeding stopped, wounds knit together, and color returned to the kid's face. Her hands came back to hover over his chest, and Link choked on a gasp as water was forced from his lungs. The Zora's hands stayed firmly in place as Link coughed, a deep focus on her face.

Finally, Link took a deep, clear, painless breath, and Twilight found his own breath coming easier. His Cub would be okay.

The Zora woman pressed her lips to the young hero's forehead, and a sweet, ghostly voice echoed around them. “It has been my pleasure.”

She looked up, a small smile on her face as she caught Twilight's eye. She gave him a tiny, respectful nod before fading away.

Twilight watched his Cub breathe as the Gerudo warriors formed a protective circle around the table. Most of the fighting was done, but he could still hear a few stubborn blademasters.

Particles of malice – Twilight hadn’t known there was meant to be a blood moon tonight – began their ponderous journey towards the sky as Link's eyes finally opened. The kid gave a frightened cry when he realized where he was, but froze, panting, when he noticed he’d been healed.

Twilight was sure there was still some mental healing that needed to happen, though.

The Cub looked around warily, rising to a crouch as he surveyed the ring of warriors around him. His fingers hovered near his right hip as if to grab his slate; he paled when the only thing that met his searching fingertips was the fabric of his shorts.

Wide, wild eyes made another complete circuit of the warriors before they settled on Riju, who’d stepped up next to Twilight. “Riju?” Link whispered, voice ragged from stress.

Twilight heard the smile in her voice as she responded. “Yes, Link, it’s me.”

“I don’t…how…who…?” Link stammered, trembling as the dark magic of the imminent blood moon brought a shadow to his eyes.

Twilight could almost see the recent memories slotting themselves into place in his Cub’s head. He rushed forward to catch the kid as he wavered, shock and stress and exhaustion in every line of his body.

Link's eyelids fluttered as he shivered in Twilight’s grasp. Carefully, tenderly, he pulled the wolf pelt from his shoulders and wrapped it around the younger hero, who tangled his fingers in the fur and immediately settled, sighing.

Link was asleep before Twilight stood up completely, arms wrapped protectively around his Cub.

Twilight turned to Riju. “We need to find his slate and his other gear,” he said, eyeing the reddening sky, “and we need to get away from this place.”

“We already have a team in the base searching,” she confirmed. “They should be just about done.”

With the last blademaster finally driven away, the Gerudo warriors formed a protective circle around Twilight and his Cub as they swiftly made their way back through the base. They met the search party just past the cells, and Twilight placed the slate and the kid's clothes in his own pouch for safekeeping.

The blood moon reached its peak as the last warrior descended the small cliff south of the base. Malice filled the air, thick enough to choke King Bulbin, and Twilight could feel it trying to make him shift back to a wolf as Hylia's influence faded.

Twilight gritted his teeth, mentally shoving the dark magic away until the calamitous influence receded. He could not afford to be a wolf right now.

They continued through the sand until they made it to open desert, then stopped to rest for what remained of the night. Between the long march, the battle, and the Blood Moon, everyone was ready to rest, even if it was only for a few hours.

Twilight curled protectively around his Cub, refusing to let the boy out of his arms after everything the kid had gone through. They slept through the night without movement, both exhausted, and Twilight woke with the heat of the rising sun. Link still slept on.

A quick breakfast and cooling elixirs were distributed by the warriors, then they resumed their march.

Link finally woke as noon approached. Twilight wouldn’t have known were it not for the way the boy stiffened in his arms. He peered through the fur of his pelt, catching the bright, wild eyes of his Cub as they glared around.

“Where am I? Who are you?” Link croaked, voice thick with sleep and distrust.

“Hush, Cub,” Twilight soothed. He shifted the pelt away from the young hero's face so he could see more clearly. “You’re with friends, see? We’re headed back to Gerudo town.”

Link relaxed minutely as he saw familiar faces among the Gerudo warriors. “What’s a Hylian voe doing with all these Gerudo, anyway?” he asked, fingers idly twisting the fur of the pelt. He paused, though, and his gaze grew distracted. “This fur…I thought Wolfie was here. I could’ve sworn I felt him when…where is he?”

Twilight tried to answer all the kid’s questions without overwhelming him. “I helped the Gerudo rescue you from the Yiga. The pelt is mine – it’s all we had to cover you with. And Wolfie…” he grimaced, letting out a heavy breath to steel himself before he admitted, “I’m actually Wolfie.”

Link stared at him, incomprehension clear on his face. “No…you’re wrong. There’s no way Wolfie's actually Hylian. He is definitely a wolf – I sent a wolf away with Buliara! How could he come back as…?”

“Cub, Cub, shhh!” Twilight tightened his hold around the fretting hero before he could dump himself onto the burning sand. “Look at my tattoos! Look into my eyes! What do you see?”

Link stilled, staring as a dozen conflicting emotions flickered across his features. “They match…” he whispered.

Distrust still shone on Link's features, so Twilight pulled out his next piece of evidence. “We were just coming out of the Rabella wetlands when Riju called you on your slate. I helped you take down that black hinox!”

Belief flickered behind the Champion's eyes, but it was immediately chased by hurt and betrayal. “But…if Wolfie's always been Hylian…why didn’t you…?”

“Change back?” Twilight asked. Link nodded. “Until now, Hylia wouldn’t let me. I tried, believe me.”

“What changed?”

Twilight chuckled humorlessly. “You did, Cub. You sent me away with Buliara, instead of letting me stay to help, as she had intended.

“The only reason we could rescue you in time is because I teleported back to Gerudo town as soon as I knew Buliara would be safe. Hylia allowed me to shift back to get the help you needed.”

Twilight watched the Cub ponder this information as the army stopped for lunch. He carefully set the younger hero on his feet and returned the Sheikah slate, laughing to himself as the Cub immediately changed into more heat-appropriate gear.

Link returned the pelt, watching with a small smirk as Twilight gratefully resettled it on his shoulders. “So, what do I call you while you’re Hylian?”

Twilight grinned. “Well, my name is also Link, but you can just call me Twilight.”

#SilvrAsh writes #febuwhump #day 16 #day 24 #pre-LU #lu twilight #botw link #botw riju #this is /technically/ complete...but there will be a continuation on day 25 #for those who want to know what happened to Link while they were apart

[sedge-and-sanctuary]

Moon Six - Highsun

Sedgeclan has no deputy! Snowstreak has recovered from bloodloss, though her wound is still infected. Harebolt gathers herbs. Coniferstar marks the borders.

Cats mentioned: Snowstreak - 105 moons - Warrior Coniferstar - 26 moons - Leader

Snowstreak pads out of the medicine den for the first time since they’d arrived, pushing her nose into the wind. It trickles into their camp between the rocks, bringing the green-smells of the tundra’s short but vibrant growing-season. Her leg feels better than it has in moons; though her pelt still prickles with fever, and her paws tremble as she limps out into the open. Coniferstar turns to greet her with a blink of pleasure, and pads over to touch his nose to her forehead. “Snowstreak. It’s good to see you awake– how do you feel?” Snowstreak swallows, her mouth still dry, her throat sore. “Ah- tired. But. Better– I don’t. Harebolt’s explained some things to me. I should say thank you.”

Coniferstar purrs. “No need. I’m only glad to see you so alert again.” He tips his head, studying her for a moment. “Has Harebolt told you what brought us here?” “I– your healing?” Coniferstar laughs; a soft sound, like water over rocks. And he’s such a young tom; younger by far than Snowstreak and Harebolt. But his manner is so strange- steady, and calm. “No– I don’t suppose she’d mention it. It was a higher power by far than that.” He meets her eyes. “Your mate doesn’t believe it yet. But I think you might.” “I might?” “Yes.” Coniferstar turns, to look up at the sky; clear, bright blue, almost painful to look at. “I come from a place far south of here. A warm, and lovely place, where the cats have grown as soft and easy as their land." He shakes his head. "The spirits of our ancestors frowned upon them. Upon us.” Snowstreak blinks; her head, still thick with fever, spins. “Spirits?” “Yes.” His voice is distant. “I know it must sound strange to you– but our dead, in Starclan, talk to me.  They led me here– to you, and to your mate. We can start anew, the three of us. With cats like you…” He turns back to look at Snowstreak, and something in his eyes makes her puff up her chest, lift her chin, despite the stiffness of her long confinement. “You, who survive in this hard place... where there is no room for softness. You will be the key, to building something better.” Coniferstar blinks at her; eyes wide, suddenly, a little insecure. Looking, for once, like the young cat he is. “You believe me, don’t you?” Snowstreak’s chest squeezes; what else can she say? “Of course.” She nudges Coniferstar’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, if Harebolt’s said anything. She’s a good cat, truly, just…”

“I know. I won't ask you to speak ill of your mate.” Coniferstar’s tail whisks the air, thoughtful. “Properly– a medicine cat should be among the clan’s most faithful. But– if we are to change things, let us change them. I suppose there’s no reason a warrior can’t be, instead.” “And that’s… me?” Snowstreak turns the word over, silently. A warrior. It has a strange sound to it; heavy, like all the new clan words. “Yes. You’ll be my very first warrior.” Coniferstar purrs, and looks over Snowstreak with a gleam of obvious pride. “Once you’re fully healed. And we’ll do great things, together.” Something in Snowstreak’s chest kindles; a feeling like swallowing sun-baked stones. Heavy, but… warm. She squares her shoulders, and does her best, level, to meet his eyes.

#snowstreak POV :) #everyone say hi snowstreak #sedgeclan #clangen #warriors #sedgeclan moon #sedgeclan: year one #snowstreak pov #snowstreak #coniferstar #i love writing coniferstar can you tell i love writing coniferstar #moon six #all these fucking tags jesus.

[brasideios]

Thank you for the tag @aeide Great idea 🤍

Rules: 10 (non-ancient) books for people to get to know you better, or that you just really like.

So these are my current faves from the last century or so and limited to fiction. I left out the 19th C stuff - just know that I’m an English Literature nerd, and if it was written by the Bronte sisters, George Eliot or Jane Austen, I have read it at least ten times.

1. The Subterraneans by Jack Kerouac.

I have read all of his books, and I love Dharma Bums also, but the Subterraneans speaks to the theme that will always draw me in - hopeless love. The way Kerouac writes, the deep introspection and pawing over of his thoughts is really relatable to me, and the way he is always the destroyer of his own happiness… not to ignore that this book has issues (it’s deeply of it’s time, 1950’s US) but when it comes to emotional impact, I can’t think of a better example.

2. An Imaginary Life by David Malouf.

Malouf is a contemporary Australian author who often writes in a poetic way, and An Imaginary Life is perhaps his most poetical. Its the story of Ovid’s exile to the Black Sea. There are passages in this book about home, loss and memory that will never leave me. I like all of his work though, almost without exception.

3. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S Thompson

I have probably read this book fifty times. It’s funny and messed up and wild - and there isn’t another book like it. I read this when I just want to laugh and don’t want to engage my brain too much.

4. Catch 22 by Joseph Heller

Like Fear and Loathing, I’ve read this book many many times. It’s wonderful though sad. The way it’s structured, so that you seem to circle around and around the story, as the story grows darker and darker… it’s truly an amazing piece of work. The movie absolutely failed to capture it.

5. The Secret River by Kate Grenville.

Another contemporary Australian author, the Secret River is historical fiction based on the white settlement of New South Wales in the early 19th Century. It is beautifully written and tackles the ugly side of colonialism head on. There are scenes in this book that made me sob. She also wrote the Lieutenant which addresses some of the same issues and it’s also very good.

6. The True History of the Kelly Gang by Peter Carey.

Another contemporary Australian author (though he lives in the US now) - as the title suggests, this is a book about Ned Kelly, the famous bushranger. It’s written in Ned Kelly’s voice, and it’s done so, so well. I can’t think of another work that is so bold in its use of voice.

7. All the Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy

I honestly struggled to decide which of his books to choose because I love his work for the way he puts words together, and he does it so incredibly well in everything he writes; however, All the Pretty Horses was the first of his I read, and it made me read all the others, so it seemed the right one to choose. No Country for Old Men and Suttree are other favourites of his.

8. Imperium by Robert Harris

The first in a trilogy - they’re all brilliant - retelling the life of Cicero. I love the way Harris writes - very clean, very light. I would give a leg to be half so good at writing to be honest.

9. The Gates of Athens by Conn Iggulden.

This follows the life of Xanthippus - Pericles’ father - during the 480s BCE. As with Harris, Iggulden’s writing is absolutely a benchmark for me. This is the first in a series and I haven’t checked in a while if the next one has been published. Note to self. He also wrote the Falcon of Sparta which was great, too.

10. The Song of Achilles by Madeline Millar.

I know there are issues with this retelling, and honestly I don’t care. The way it’s written is everything. The word craft is so beautiful; the feeling that permeates the whole story of impending doom; how every happy moment is in fact sad. It’s gorgeous. Its poetic. It speaks to that hopeless love trope I mentioned earlier. I also loved her Circe for the same reasons.

Tagging @sleeplessincarcosa @softest-punk @erzsebetrosztoczy @myriath @woodsman2b @mimbotomy @auroralykos @haythamk @theinkandthesea I want to read more from around the world so pls gimme all the recs ☺️ or ignore me - no pressure!

#tag game #books

[ingek73]

Moir: Duchess Meghan is a ‘mutt’ who should be grateful to be a diversity prop

August 26, 2022

By Kaiser Meghan Markle, Royals

Meghan McCain is a columnist for the Daily Mail, and I try to never read her crap. I’m aware that she wrote something bonkers about the Duchess of Sussex’s Archetypes podcast, but I’d just like to avoid it completely? Like, Meghan McCain is awful, don’t make me read that sh-t. However, I did end up reading Jan Moir’s column this week, also in the Mail. It seems like the Mail activated all of their columnists this week to pontificate on Archetypes. Moir – who is white, old and terrible – latches on to Meghan’s story about the fire in Archie’s South African nursery and Moir makes the kind of unhinged leap you can never see coming. Moir’s argument highlights an undercurrent in the coverage about Meghan’s story too, which is that Meghan should have been grateful, uncomplaining and eager to be used as an inclusivity prop by the crown, even as her own child was under mortal threat. Oh, and if you read the first highlighted excerpt carefully, Moir refers to Meghan as a “mutt.” Some truly appalling highlights from Moir’s column:

On the Sussexes adopting a beagle: Oh dear. It is charming that the duchess believes herself to be a no-introduction-needed, one-name ultra-celebrity in the same league as Oprah, Adele, Beyonce and Kermit, but the truth is that for many Americans, she stubbornly remains anonymous rather than mononymous. Still, how lovely to open up her home to another dumb mutt with barking issues. Just imagine poor Mamma Mia, whimpering around the Montecito mansion, paws over her silky ears, as Meghan recounts one more bloody time how she wrote to Procter & Gamble about its sexist washing-up advert.

Archetypes is the #1 podcast in at least six countries: After the podcast was launched, the Duchess could have been forgiven for thinking: ‘Why do I bother?’ All she got for her efforts was a giant raspberry and a torrent of abuse from reviewers who called her podcast everything from ‘preposterous’ to ‘a parade of banalities’.

No fire: Even unofficial royal sources discreetly weighed in, insisting that, although recollections may vary, they did not recall a nursery actually being on fire. Wait, what? There was a nursery on fire?! Meghan told Serena the terrifying tale of ‘a fire in the baby’s room’ during their South African tour in 2019, and how appalled she was at having to carry on with their royal schedule instead of cancelling everything in order to comfort Archie, who wasn’t in the room that may not have been on fire anyway. Yes, there was an incident. Perhaps someone left their smalls out to dry on a radiator and a bit of a singe ensued? This left Meghan not with a smoking gun but with a smoking sock instead, although one can understand her initial fear and reaction.

How dare a new mother be upset about a deadly threat to her child: Yet her horror at being expected to keep calm and carry on when no emergency occurred perfectly illustrates how Meghan fatally confused being royal with being famous. If you are a rock star or a film star, you are very much the sun in your own orbit; everything revolves around you. Being a royal is almost the exact opposite. You represent the monarchy, not yourself. You are a cipher, an emissary of the crown, serving your country and not your own needs. You facilitate diplomatic and trade links while fostering investment opportunities. You also comfort the oppressed and recognise their suffering at every opportunity — because that is what duchesses do.

Meghan should be grateful she’s not the victim of Apartheid: If Meghan had got her way, the Sussexes’ trip to Cape Town’s historic District Six neighbourhood would have been axed following the fire scare. The couple went to meet people who were forcibly relocated from there to the townships during the Apartheid era — black South Africans who were stripped of their land and homes, then dumped in racially segregated developments far from the city. Many still live in these areas, in houses made of corrugated tin and cardboard. Imagine these people, who had lost and suffered so much, waiting with dignity in the afternoon heat for this long-planned meeting with the royal couple — only to be told at short notice that they weren’t coming after all because Meghan needed some post-stress me-time.

[From The Daily Mail]

The Apartheid conversation was what shocked me the most, because these racist a–holes literally have no idea what they’re really saying, nor have they absorbed what Meghan was saying. Meghan and Serena’s conversation was about ambition, of course, but it was also about how they were dehumanized as Black women. They were talking about the lack of care, the lack of understanding, the lack of grace they have been given in life and in motherhood. Meghan was saying: my child could have died and I was expected to just carry on like nothing happened, no acknowledgement for the baby, or me or Harry. At the same time, Moir is saying, look, here are Black people who have been dehumanized for decades, why are you complaining? Moir is saying blatantly that this “mutt” should have been grateful to be used as a prop by the crown. In South Africa. The fact that Moir flatly calls her a mutt too… holy f–k. These people are repulsive.

#meghan markle #duchess of sussex #racism #jan moir #daily fail #celebitchy #kaiser

[succubusphan]

A Rose of Winter - Chapter 15

Summary: All Daniel wanted to do was escape the stifling life as a Stark of Winterfell and travel the world. Between the looming threat North of The Wall and the den of lions in the capital, he unexpectedly finds love in the midst of a war set to tear Westeros apart. Caught between loyalty to his family and duty, he is torn in a thousand directions that all point to one man: Philip Flowers.

Rating: E (There are only a few smut scenes but it's an M for battles, war, and other adult topics)

Tags/warnings: I removed most triggers (no R or SA, no minors involved in sex, no gore). It does include: Deaths either written without details or in a poetic way if it's an important character (Dan and Phil, Ghost and Balerion will live but everyone else is fair game). Strangers to lovers, Slow Burn, missing each other. The prophecies and stories foreshadowed are fulfilled, a satisfying ending to the entire story without plot holes. Extreme canon divergence. Dan and Phil are not replacing characters, they were written in. GAME OF THRONES AU

Author's Note: This is my OSPBB 2022, Couldn't have done it without my betas @effingmeteors and @filisaceaf.

Word Count: Each chapter will be around 15k and have at least one Dan or Phil pov. The total wc is about 210k.

Read on Ao3

PHIL

Travelling north, Westeros.

Loras dismounted and stalked down to the river, allowing his horse to drink some water and washing his face repeatedly. Even after weeks on the road, Phil noticed how obsessed he was with cleaning himself, probably due to his time captive in the Sept where he had lost that privilege. 

Phil followed him and patted his horse, letting him drink too. Ser Pounce was awoken from his slumber and climbed out of Phil's satchel, taking the time to smell his surroundings and scrunching his face up to the sun.

“You can’t be angry at me forever, Loras.”

Loras looked at him with disdain. “I can. I spent years mourning my husband, you saw how badly I was doing, and you never said a word and now I have to grieve for my sister!”

Flinching at the mention of Margaery’s death. He couldn’t talk about it, not yet, so he focused on Renly. “There are many things you don’t understand,” he said. “I know how much it hurt you and I do understand that you are angry at me, but all I’m asking is that you talk to me. We still have a long way to Winterfell.”

“Well, if there’s so much I need to understand, you should explain yourself,” Loras said, punching Phil’s arm a little too hard.

Phil let out a deep sigh but nodded. “Alright. I’ll try my best,” he said. “Do you remember when I asked if you loved Renly, back at the camp?”

“Yes, it was before Renly…” he trailed off.

“Yes. Well… there was a reason. I feared that something would happen and -” He let out a frustrated groan. “When I was a child… When I was hiding in Essos as a child, there was always someone trying to kill me until a Red Priestess gave me a few things. A ring for myself that I was never to remove and a necklace with a rare pendant in it. She told me that the ring would protect me, and it did, I never got tracked or attacked again, even if I'm not sure how it works. And the necklace was meant for someone else. She told me I would know who to give it to, to win the war so that the real war could begin.”

“What would that mean?”

Ser Pounce must have sensed his need for comfort because he meowed and pawed at Phil until he was purring in his arms. “Dan says the White Walkers are real and they are marching south. But - what I mean is, Renly was truly attacked that night. He was truly in danger and the fact that I gave him that necklace saved him. The shadow creature that entered his tent tried to stab him, Lady Stark yelled his name, making him turn around and the stab landed in the necklace, saving him.”

“But why didn’t Renly tell me? Why didn’t you tell me instead of making me grieve for him?”

“It was my idea. I knew that Stannis wouldn’t stop at one attempt and with the Red Witch at his side, I wasn’t sure if either of you would survive. By taking Renly out of the war, you left for King’s Landing and killed Stannis, then the Freys betrayed the Starks and the war was over; at least the main part of it. If Renly had gone into battle we would all be dead by now. Every single one of us. The Lannisters never played fair or intended to benefit us in any way.”

“But you didn’t know things would work,” Loras said. “You risked everything for a hunch.”

“I didn’t, but -” Phil placed his hand on Loras’ shoulder. “When we escaped through the Kingswood, Ser Davos caught up to us, the old Knight serving Stannis. He brought Shireen with him because they were thinking of burning her as a sacrifice to ensure Stannis would win the war.”

Loras frowned. “His own daughter!”

Phil nodded. “I believe that the reason Renly didn’t come out of hiding all this time was to protect her. You know how much he loves her. It took a long time, and there are still battles to come, but in the end, Renly is alive, you are alive and Shireen is safe. He could still become The King of Westeros - with you at his side.”

“I don’t know if that’s what I want anymore. I just want him… if he even wants me still.”

He wanted to tell Loras that Renly would still love him, even after all these years, but he couldn’t; he didn’t know if that would be true and if he was honest with himself, he tried to avoid thinking that was a possibility for he and Dan as well. Would they still feel the same as they did years ago? Would everything be the same even after everything they had gone through?

ARYA

“You're wondering why I brought you all here after all we just had a feast. Since when does old Walder give us two feasts in a single fortnight? Well, it's no good being Lord of the Riverlands if you can't celebrate with your family; that's what I say. I've gathered every Frey who means a damn thing so I can tell you my plans for this great house now that winter has come. But first, a toast. No more of that Dornish horse piss, this is the finest Arbour gold. Proper wine for proper heroes!” Lord Frey raised his wine glass and said: “Stand together!”. 

The Frey men stood from their seats and raised their glasses saying their house words: “Stand together!” And drank their wine. Out of the corner of his eye, Walder Frey saw his youngest wife raising her glass and grabbed her hand. “Not you. I’m not wasting good wine on a damn woman!”

Then, he continued his speech. “Maybe I'm not the most pleasant man, I'll admit it, but I'm proud of you. You're my family, the men who helped me slaughter the Starks at the Red Wedding,” he paused and let them celebrate the compliment. “Yes! Brave men, all of you. Butchered a woman pregnant with her babe, cut the throat of a mother of five, slaughtered your guests after inviting them into your home. But, you didn't slaughter every one of the Starks. No, no. That was your mistake. You should have ripped them all out, root and stem.” 

The old man watched as every single one of his sons and relatives clutched at their throats, unable to breathe. “Leave one wolf alive and the sheep are never safe.” The last men of house Frey died in a matter of seconds, in pure agony as she watched. Arya removed the face of Walder Frey and turned to the young Lady at her side. “When people ask you what happened here, tell them that the North remembers. Tell them winter came for House Frey.”

She let out a happy sigh and walked out of the castle with a sense of peace and fulfilment she hadn’t experienced… ever. She thought back to when she first arrived at the twins and surprised old Walder; what a magical day.

Wearing the face of one of the kitchen maids, she set a big meat pie on Lord Frey’s table. 

“You’re not one of mine, are you?” He asked.

“No,  My Lord.” 

“Didn't think so. Too pretty.” Walder Frey said. “Where are my damn moron sons? Black Walder and Lothar promised to be here by midday.”

“They’re here, My Lord!” Arya said.

“Well, what are they doing, trimming their cunt hairs?” He laughed. “They need to come here now.”

“They're already here, My Lord.” She said and smiled when the old man looked around in confusion. She pointed to the pie. “Here, My Lord. They weren't easy to carve; especially

Black Walder.” 

Walder Frey looked horrified and considerably paler than before knowing he had eaten his own sons.

Arya removed the young girl’s face and leaned down to look at him. “My name is Arya Stark. I want you to know that the last thing you're ever going to see is a Stark leaning down at you as you die.” Before he could utter a word, Arya sliced his throat and the patriarch was no more.

---

Arya rode south of The Twins, her mind focused solely on her next target, but she was surprised when a group of Lannister men stopped her. 

“Good day, My Lady,” said one of the blonde soldiers. 

“Good day, Ser,” she said with a fake smile.

“Where are you going? The sun is going down and this area has become dangerous as of late.”

“Oh, no!” Arya replied. “Would you know of any inns close by?”

“Not that you can get to today, but you could join us for supper. We have rabbits.”

Arya dismounted and tied her new horse to a nearby tree. “Thank you, you are very kind!” She walked over to the firepit that the group was surrounding, looking at the faces of the young men about to enjoy their meat with a smile. She considered killing them, but… they seemed like good men. 

A red-haired one with a kind face gave her the first rabbit out of the fire. “Here; guests get firsts.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense! My mother taught me that guests should be tended to.”

Another man passed her a wine tote. “It’s wildberry wine; I made it myself.”

Arya took a swig from it and coughed at the strong taste. “It’s good!” She said, making the men laugh. 

“Where are you headed to?”

“To King’s Landing.”

“That’s a fine place if you like the smell of shit and piss!” He said, making the others laugh.

“What will you do in King’s Landing?”

“I’m going to kill Cersei,” Arya said with a shrug and bit into her rabbit.

The group burst into laughter once again, Arya joining them. It was a silly concept for them, a joke; but not to her.

One of them that had previously stayed quiet got a sad look on his face. “I heard my wife had our first child.”

“What was it?” Arya asked.

“I don’t know. Lowborn soldiers don’t get news from home… but I hope it’s a girl. Girls take care of their papa when they get old, boys go on to fight someone else’s war.”

The red-haired one nodded. “To be completely honest, when I was home, I couldn’t wait to get away, but now - now I would give anything to go back. Eat with my mum, help my dad with the farm. I would wed Jenny without hesitating for so long.”

“What makes you think she’s still unwedded?” Laughed the blonde soldier.

“I don’t know. I always thought we’d be together. I wish I would have asked.”

Arya watched the men; men she would have killed if they’d met years ago, but now she had time to see other cities, other countries. She knew that being on the wrong side didn’t make a person evil and most men didn’t follow out of choice, but fear for themselves or their families. If they would have shown any signs of being wicked, she’d have killed them and taken their faces, but they had welcomed her into their group for the night, fed her and had the intention of protecting her. Just for that night, they were on the same side; their own side.

BRAN

Bran let out a sigh of relief when he and Meera finally made it to Castle Black. After what felt like an eternity the gate rose but not to let them through, instead a few men of The Watch walked out to greet them.

“Who are you?” Asked one of them. “Are you wildlings?”

Bran recognised the cloak the man had on as the one Jon had been wearing when he met the Night King in Battle in which the man was also present. 

“No. I am Meera Reed, daughter of Howland Reed. This is Brandon Stark, son of Ned Stark.”

The man shook his head. “How would I know if that’s true?”

Bran tried to sit up. “Please; the White Walkers are coming for us - for all of us. You’ve seen them. You’ve seen him.”

The already pale man paled even further, his eyes widening as he nodded. “Welcome to Castle Black.”

“Thank you,” Bran smiled and let his head fall back to the logs Meera had tied together haphazardly into a sled to be able to drag him. He would need to ask his brother’s friend for another means of transport.

DAENERYS

“Danny! Danny!” The boy called her, looking all around but she stayed hidden. 

“Daaaaanny!” he insisted, but Daenerys covered her mouth with her little hands and giggled, closing her eyes too to avoid being found.

The boy finally entered through the red door and ran into Viserys. “Your Grace! I apologise,” he bowed awkwardly.

Viserys pushed him, making him fall to the ground. 

He hissed and clutched at his wrist, a small drop of blood running down his arm where he’d cut himself on the mosaics.

Daenerys finally pushed the curtains aside and rushed to him. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t want you to get hurt!”

Viserys huffed and left the house stepping on her friend’s fingers on his way out.

“It’s alright, Danny. It’s not your fault,” the boy said. “Your brother is the problem. We should run away and leave him!”

“But he’s my brother!”

“He is mean to you too! We should leave and never return!”

“Alright, but first we need to plan.”

“Where would we go?”

“To Dragonstone, my home,” said Daenerys.

She woke up covered in sweat, the sound of the waves crashing against the ship and the seagulls sounding a bit too loud. There was a knock on the door.

“Your Grace. We have arrived. The boat will be ready shortly.”

“Thank you, Lord Tyrion. I’ll be a moment,” she said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and trying to dress herself as fast as possible. She was home. Daenerys had to wonder if her friend had ever made it to the island.

When they finally made it to shore, there was a familiar yet ominous feeling looming above the Castle. Dragonstone was nothing but grey and sand; a big fortress built out of volcanic rock, sitting atop a mountain once full of dragon eggs. She smiled sadly and walked towards the gates with resolution.

It was a long way up, with twisting and winding paths carved into the side of the mountain, making it easier to climb up.

Drogon flew past them and landed at the top, looking down at them with interest. The Unsullied pushed the castle gates open and were finally able to walk into her home. There was nothing left behind in the Throne Room; only the stone throne. Daenerys walked further in and found the council meeting room. A huge wooden table shaped like a map of Westeros placed in the centre; wolves, stags, lions and the other Great Houses represented in wooden figurines. The last time the room had been used, Stannis had sailed to King’s Landing. 

Daenerys knocked the stags off to the floor. Stannis was gone and Dragonstone was back in Targaryen hands.

Tyrion looked out the windows to the rain that had started to fall as soon as they had entered. It was turning into a raging storm. He flinched at the crack of thunder falling in the sea. “On a night like this, you came into this world.”

Lord Varys stepped out of the shadows and bowed before Daenerys. They hadn’t gotten the opportunity to speak yet. “I remember that storm, all the dogs in King's Landing howled through the night.”

Daenerys sighed deeply and looked around, at the cold stone walls and the dust-covered furniture. “I wish I could remember it. I always thought this would be a homecoming, but it doesn't feel like it.”

“We won't stay on Dragonstone for good,” Tyrion reminded her. 

“Good.” She looked at the planning table. “Not so many lions.” 

Varys adjusted the pieces all over Westeros as he spoke, updating the information for her to visualise it. “Cersei controls fewer than half The Seven Kingdoms. The Lords of Westeros despised her; even before your arrival they plotted against her, now-”

Danny raised an eyebrow at him; she needed to address their history before they got any further. “They cry out for their true Queen? They're doing secret toasts to my health? People used to tell my brother that sort of thing and he was stupid enough to believe them,” she grabbed one of the dragon figurines and looked at it closely. “If Viserys had three dragons and an army at his back, he'd have invaded King's Landing already.”

Tyrion nodded. “Conquering Westeros would be easy for you, but you're not here to be Queen of the ashes. We can take the Seven Kingdoms without turning it into a slaughterhouse. If the Great Houses support your claim against Cersei, the game is won. With the Tyrell Army and the Dornish on our side, we have powerful allies in the south.”

Daenerys turned towards Lord Varys. “I didn’t properly thank you for that.”

“They joined our side, My Queen, because they believed in you.”

“You served my father didn't you, Lord Varys?” 

“I did,” he said, crossing his arms.

“And then you served the man who overthrew him,” she said, unable to hide her anger.

Varys was not faced by her pressing questions. “I had a choice, Your Grace, serve Robert Baratheon or face the headsman's axe.”

“You didn’t serve him for long, you turned against him,” Danny pushed.

“Robert was an improvement on your father, to be sure, there have been few rulers in history as cruel as The Mad King. Robert was neither mad nor cruel, he simply had no interest in being King.” 

“So you took it upon yourself to find a better one,” she completed his thought, taking a step towards him.

Tyrion stepped forward nervously. “Your Grace, when I was ready to drink myself into a small coffin, Lord Varys told me about a Queen in the east who-”

Daenerys was not going to let Tyrion speak for Varys, save him from his past with bold statements about his loyalty when The Spider had expressed none so far. “Before I came to power you favoured my brother. All your spies, your little birds, did they tell you Viserys was cruel, stupid, and weak? Would those qualities have made for a good King in your opinion?”

“Until your marriage to Khal Drogo, Your Grace, I knew nothing about you, save your existence and that you were said to be beautiful.”

“So you and your friends traded me like a prize horse to the Dothraki…”

Varys didn’t nod, but he didn’t need to. “Which you turned to your advantage.”

“Who gave the order to kill me?” Daenerys asked.

“King Robert,” he replied.

“Who hired the assassins? Who sent word to Essos to murder Daenerys Targaryen?” 

Varys finally faltered, frowning at her. “Your Grace, I did what had to be done to-”

“To keep yourself alive,” she finished.  

Tyrion cleared his throat and tried to intervene once again. “Lord Varys has proven himself a loyal servant.” 

Daenerys scoffed and turned towards him with an incredulous look. “Proven himself loyal? Quite the opposite; if he dislikes one monarch, he conspires to crown the next one. What kind of servant is that?”

“The kind of the realm needs. Incompetence should not be rewarded with blind loyalty. As long as I have my eyes, I'll use them. I wasn't born into a Great House, I came from nothing. I was sold as a slave and carved up as an offering when I was a child. I lived in alleys, gutters, and abandoned houses. You wish to know what my true loyalties lie? Not with any King or Queen but with the people; the people who suffer under despots and prosper under just rule. The people whose hearts you aim to win. If you demand blind allegiance, I respect your wishes. Grey Worm can behead me, or your dragons can devour me, but if you let me live, I will serve you well. I will dedicate myself to seeing you on The Iron Throne because I choose you, because I know that people have no better chance than you!”

She considered it for a moment and decided to give the man a chance to prove himself. “Swear this to me, Varys: If you ever think I'm failing the people, you won't conspire behind my back. You will look me in the eye as you have done today, and you'll tell me how I'm failing.

“I swear it, My Queen.”

“And I swear this: if you ever betray me I'll burn you alive,” she warned him.

“I really expect nothing less from the Mother of Dragons,” Varys said with a smile and Daenerys believed him.

Grey Worm walked up to her. “Forgive me, My Queen. A red priestess from Asshai has come to see you.”

A red priestess? They had just arrived at Dragonstone…

--

The beautiful woman in red nodded and addressed her in Valyrian. “Queen Daenerys, I was a slave once, bought and sold, scourged and branded. It is an honour to meet the Breaker of Chains.” 

“The red priestesses helped bring peace to Meereen. You are very welcomed here,” Daenerys said.

“I won't be here for long,” she said. “My name is Melisandre, Queen Daenerys.”

Varys scoffed behind her. “She once served another who wanted The Iron Throne. It didn't end well for Stannis Baratheon, did it?”

“No, it didn't.” 

“You chose an auspicious day to arrive at Dragonstone; we've just decided to pardon those who once served the wrong King,” Danny said. “The Lord of Light doesn't have many followers in Westeros, does he?” 

“Not yet, but even those who don't worship the Lord can serve his cause.”

“What does your Lord expect from me?” Daenerys asked.

Once again, Melisandre answered in Valyrian. “The Long Night is coming, only The Prince who was Promised can bring the dawn.” 

“The Prince Who Was Promised will bring the dawn? I'm afraid I'm not a Prince,” Danny said.

“Your Grace, forgive me,” said Missandei, “but your translation is not quite accurate. That noun has no gender in High Valyrian so, the proper translation for that prophecy would be the Prince or Princess who was promised will bring the dawn.”

“Doesn't really roll off the tongue, does it?” said Tyrion, smirking.

“No, but I like it better. And you believe this prophecy refers to me?”

“Prophecies are dangerous things,” said Melisandre. “I believe you have a role to play as does another, The King in the North, Jon Snow?” 

“Jon Snow? Ned Stark's bastard?” Tyrion asked.

Danny looked at him. “You know him?”  

Tyrion nodded. “I travelled with him to The Wall when he joined the Night’s Watch.”

“And why do you think the Lord of Light singled out this… Jon Snow? Aside from the visions you've seen in the flames, of course,” Varys said. He didn’t seem to like the Red Priestess.

“As Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, he allowed the wildlings south of The Wall to protect them from great danger. As King in the North, he has united those wildlings with the northern houses so together they may face their common enemy,” Melisandre explained.

“He sounds like quite a man,” Danny conceded.

“Summon Jon Snow. Let him stand before you and tell you the things that have happened to him, the things he’s seen with his own eyes.”

“Your Grace, I can't speak to prophecies or visions and flames but I like John Snow and I 

trust him and I am an excellent judge of character,” Tyrion said. “If he does rule the North, he would make a valuable ally. The Lannisters executed his father and conspired to murder his brother. John Snow has even more reason to hate Cersei than you do.”

He was right, of course, but that didn’t mean that Daenerys would let a man lead her forces; he was coming merely as an ally. “Very well. Send a raven north. Tell John Snow that his Queen invites him to come to Dragonstone; and bend the knee.”

DAN

Being Lord of Winterfell was not what Dan wanted, but every time he thought about asking Jon or Sansa to take the lead, he remembered Robb’s plea. He was at least relieved to have a secondary role in the matter and he couldn’t think of anybody better than Jon to be their King.

During the next meeting with their bannermen, Renly joined and assured the Northmen that he would respect the North’s independence as he had once agreed with Robb and Dan, as well as promising to let the matter of The Iron Throne be until the army of the dead was defeated. He hoped the North would support him, but for the time being, he knew what was important and he would join the fight as a mere fighter under Jon’s lead and nothing else. This pleased the Northmen greatly, it was a sign of respect they were not accustomed to by the southern Kings.

It was decided that Tormund and the free folk would help man Eastwatch by The Sea to hold the White Walkers for as long as possible. Then, Jon let the last members of Houses Karstarks and Umber swear loyalty to him and his cause despite the transgression of their parents and grandparents; they were mere children after all. Both jumped at the opportunity gratefully and therefore their castles remained under their lead. 

Sansa was not quiet about her disagreement, challenging Jon over and over, urging him to give their ancestral homes to someone loyal to their cause, but Jon declined and made his decision final.

After that, it was agreed that anyone over the age of eight would train for the war, not only to fight for their houses but to fend for themselves when they were under attack; some of the Lords were upset about having to send their grandchildren to war but Lyanna Mormont shut them down easily, letting them know that she was not going to ask for the other Lords’ permission to join the fight and she expected everyone else to do so as well.

Overall, the meetings were tiresome yet productive, but Sansa’s way of presenting her ideas opposing Jon was turning out to be a bit… much. The moment they three walked out of the meeting, Dan knew the subject was not over - far from it.

“Sansa, you can’t keep challenging me like that in front of the others. It makes me look weak.”

“Joffrey didn’t let anyone contradict him; do you want to be like him?”

Dan winced at the comparison but didn’t utter a word; for now, he was a mere spectator.

Jon paused. “Do you really think I'm like Joffrey?” 

Sansa stepped closer to him and grasped his hands with a soft smile before speaking. “There’s no one further from him than you, but I do want to be able to advise you, to be there for you, and not let you repeat Father’s mistakes. Cersei would have put their heads on spikes to warn those who want to rebel against her and burn their castles to the ground.”

“Careful, it almost sounds like you admire her.”

“I learned a thing or two from her. I don’t ever want to see one of us like that; please. The decision with the Umbers and Karstarks has been taken, but there has to be some reward for loyalty and some punishment for betrayal. Why would anyone follow us otherwise?”

“I don’t like punishing people. I condemned 4 men and a boy to hang because they stabbed me - it doesn’t feel right. Father said that the man who passed the sentence should swing the sword for a reason; he knew what it does to you.”

Sansa looked at Dan and he sighed, knowing that there was no way out of this argument. “What do you think? Should we pardon everyone who betrays us or abide by some set of rules applied equally to everyone?”

Jon looked at him expectantly. 

Dan rubbed at his forehead to keep the impending headache at bay. “It depends. I agree and disagree with both of you.”

“You can’t do that!” Sansa huffed. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yes, I can. I agree with you that we should be more careful than Father; I said this to Robb myself and he ignored me only to die shortly after. He was an amazing leader and fighter, but he fell in love and became too reckless. The only person he executed was the one he needed the most. On the other hand, we shouldn’t be tyrants towards those who have not had fault of their own and were merely a victim of the circumstances, like sons or daughters. I could have killed Theon the first time I saw him. I wanted to, but I understood that he regretted his decision, he wished he’d never left Robb, so I allowed him to redeem himself - even if I kept a watchful eye over him. In the end, he died a Stark, fighting at our side, helping us regain what he once helped take from us.”

Sansa frowned. “Would you have forgiven him if he would’ve killed Bran?”

“No. But he didn’t, he only pretended he did to maintain his position of power; something he always aspired to and it was always denied. I think he didn’t really want to hurt Bran.”

“Perhaps,” said Jon, his eyes looking out beyond the castle walls.

Dan stood at his side and looked down to the Courtyard where Brienne and Podrick were sparring with Renly. He’d never been a fighter but he was willing to learn. Maybe there was hope for all of them, for a future in unity where the different houses found a way to coexist in peace and help each other flourish.

---

On a day just like any other, Dan walked around the Courtyard with Sansa and Balerion in tow, checking provisions, the progress of their blacksmiths on the weapons they would need and for everything to be ready for winter. Sansa gave him very helpful advice; she suggested the other houses send their grain since Winterfell would be hosting for them for the foreseeable future and any remnants would be returned after winter. 

Dan was startled when Balerion took running for the gates, he placed a hand on the grip of his sword instinctively, until he noticed the wolf was simply excited. “Excuse me, I’ll be back shortly.”

“Of course,” his sister said but followed him nonetheless. Dan rolled his eyes, much had changed but Sansa was still as nosy as he was.

The guards had two hooded men on horseback waiting while they argued on who to consult about granting them access. Balerion sat, trying to contain his excitement and not jump onto the horse.

“Excuse me, Sers, what seems to be the matter?” Dan asked.

One of the men’s head snapped and Dan’s knees almost gave under him when he saw the flash of a smile and piercing blue eyes. He ran to the already dismounting man and pushed his hood back, pressing his lips to Phil’s. Dan felt him smile into the kiss and smiled back. He pulled away from his love only to press small kisses all over his face before pulling him into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you so much…” he breathed out, feeling his throat close as tears threatened to fall. “At times I thought we may never see each other again.”

Phil stepped back and looked into his eyes. “Dan… I wouldn’t have dared to die before seeing you again.” 

Balerion whined and jumped around Phil, nearly knocking him over until he received some well-deserved pets. When his brothers came to see what all the excitement was about, Balerion jumped around them too until a beautiful orange cat jumped out of Phil’s bag and started him. Balerion whined, and snapped his snout in the cat’s direction, but one hiss was all it took for him to take running to the Godswood, Ghost and Greywind following him. The cat rubbed against Phil’s leg before walking calmly into Winterfell.

Dan laughed. “Who is that?”

“Tommen’s cat. Couldn’t leave him behind. I’m sure Balerion will warm up to him.”

“He’s missed you, you know?” Dan said. “He-”

“Where is he?” Asked Phil’s companion and Dan recognised his voice immediately.

“Sansa,” Dan said. “Please take Ser Loras to his husband.”

“Of course, just-” She turned to one of the guards. “I believe Renly was showing Shireen the crypts. Please go ahead and let him know that Ser Loras Tyrell is here and I am leading him there.”

“Want to give him a chance to run?” Loras asked dryly. “He wouldn’t be fast enough.”

Sansa laughed. “Of course not. He speaks very highly of you to anyone who will listen, about how much he’s missed you and your memory has kept him alive all these years. I just want him to be prepared to see you - emotionally.”

Loras dismounted and hugged Dan briefly, giving him a warning look to let him know they would be speaking about Renly’s “death” and his involvement in it later. Then, he offered Sansa his arm and leaned close to her. “Did he really? How is he?”

Dan turned back to Phil and pulled him closer by his -quite inadequate- surcoat. “What do you crave the most at the moment?” He asked. “Are you hungry, tired, need a bath?”

Phil snorted. “All three, but if you give me a choice, I believe a long bath is in order.”

He leaned closer to Phil’s ear and whispered: “I can bring food to the baths, but I’m afraid you will only get more tired there.”

“That sounds perfect,” Phil said, looking down to Dan’s lips before pressing a quick kiss there. 

When Dan turned around and saw the remaining guard looking at them with raised eyebrows, he felt his face turn red. It took everything in him not to lower his head in shame at being caught in such an intimate moment, but he was the Lord of Winterfell after all. He was no longer a boy, hiding from his parents to avoid being punished. 

They stopped by the kitchens and grabbed a plate of fruits and cakes before going down to the baths. It was in the lower levels of the castle, beneath the ground and much warmer than outside. 

Phil stopped short and looked around the dimly lit chamber. “It’s beautiful - and warm.”

Dan smiled and started to remove his clothes, causing Phil to remember why they were there in the first place. “There is a legend that explains that: it is said that thousands of years ago, a dragon fell asleep here, in these very grounds, and never woke up. It turned into stone and was eventually covered in grass. This is where Bran the Builder had Winterfell built; a place where there’s always love and warmth. The baths are naturally hot even in winter and the fires never go out.”

Having finished undressing and shivering in the cold, Phil walked into the bath, Dan followed him with a smile. 

“Do the fires really not go out?”

Shaking his head, Dan snorted. “Of course they do; it’s just a legend.” He grabbed a jug and poured some of the hot water over Phil’s chest, reaching for a clean piece of cloth and soap, making sure to carefully scrub his skin.

“Stop it,” Phil laughed.

“What?”

“You are rubbing at my nipples a bit too hard.”

“Oh no,” Dan said with a laugh.

Phil sat on one of the steps and pulled Dan onto his lap; Dan moaned as their cocks rubbed against each other. He let his eyes fall shut and pressed his forehead to Phil’s before he moved his hips, slowly at first but gradually gaining momentum, moans and sighs falling from his lips shamelessly.

“Dan,” Phil whispered, placing his hands on Dan’s hips and stilling him. “May I?” He asked, tentatively running a finger on Dan’s rim.

“Please,” he mumbled before pressing an eager kiss to Phil’s lips, burying his fingers into the other’s hair as he felt his love’s fingers moving inside of him, smiling at the familiarity of the sensation, even after so many years. He would never forget what it felt to have Phil pleasure him in any way; It was like a phantom feeling, chasing after him. Even after years of not seeing each other, if he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could still feel his fingers prying him open, his hands caressing him, his lips kissing his neck, Phil’s cock deep inside him. Dan finally opened his eyes and looked into Phil’s. 

“I’m ready,” he said breathlessly.

Phil nodded and helped him lower himself onto him ever so slowly. “You look so beautiful, Dan. So beautiful - all I ever wanted was to return to you,” he mumbled.

“I’m never letting out of my sight again,” Dan said and leaned down to bite on his neck, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he finally sat on Phil’s lap, feeling Phil throb inside of him. “Gods, Phil…” He trailed off.

“Yes,” Phil said even though Dan himself didn’t know what he wanted to say. “Missed you, missed this.” He helped Dan raise and lower himself again, making him moan as he felt fire running through his veins, pressure building inside of him with every movement.

Then, Dan yelped, clutching at his leg. “Noooo,” he whined. 

“It’s alright,” Phil said, helping him stand and rubbing at his leg until it stopped twitching.

“I don’t want to stop,” Dan lamented. 

Phil bit his shoulder and laughed. “We are not stopping,” he said. “Kneel on the step facing away from me.”

Dan was simply happy to continue in any way so he didn’t argue. He set the palms of his hand on the ledge of the bath and kneel on the step, letting Phil take him in whichever way he wanted. He felt Phil push into him, agonisingly slowly, so much so that he could have sobbed. It was only when Phil shushed him that he realised he was, in fact, sobbing. “Please, pleasepleaseplease.”

“Yesss,” Phil hissed as his hips pressed firmly against Dan. Then, he pulled out just a fraction before thrusting into him hard. 

“Ah!” Dan moaned, letting his head fall forward and gripping at the ledge for dear life.

“Is that good?”

“Yes! More!” Dan moaned as he pressed back for a moment before realising Phil was holding him tightly in place to go even faster, harder. 

Phil leaned down. “Touch yourself,” he nearly growled and Dan let his hand fly over his cock pushing him over the edge soon after. It was fast - faster than he would have liked, but he knew they would get to do this for the rest of their lives. Phil joined him almost immediately, his breath coming out in pants against Dan’s neck, which he kissed. The bastard licked at the skin there and snickered when Dan twitched. “Still sensitive?”

“I’ll show you what else is sensitive!” Dan said.

“Let’s wash first, then we can eat that food and ruin the furs in your bed while I play with your sensitive neck.”

“Stay with me,” Dan mumbled, looking over his shoulder. “In my bedchamber - no more hiding and running away.”

With a wide smile, Phil nodded. “You couldn’t convince me otherwise, love,” he said and pressed a kiss to the side of Dan’s neck. 

LORAS

Loras dismounted and followed Lady Sansa through the gates. Had Renly really been thinking of him in his absence? “Please, don’t lie to me. Did he really speak about me?” He cleared his throat, trying to keep the tears at bay. 

“Yes. I swear to you, he speaks of you as if you never parted ways and to anyone who will listen.”

That brought some sort of relief to his heart, but still, there was so much to know, so much to yell at him about, so much to laugh about, so much to celebrate. Would they even recognise each other? “How is he doing?”

“He’s healthy. His hair is much longer, I think it suits him, but he is often sad. Having you back will bring him joy, I’m sure. Shireen can’t wait to see you again as well.”

“Shireen - she was barely a little girl last I saw her. How is she?”

“Tall, learning a lot from the Lady of Bear Island every time they meet,” Sansa said as they approached the Crypts. “Mind the steps; every third one is uneven.”

“To delay intruders?” He asked. 

Sansa nodded and took one of the torches, descending the steps ahead. 

“Clever,” Loras said and followed her in.

They walked much further in than Loras had thought until they saw Renly and Shireen standing before one of the statues. 

“This was Lyanna Stark, sister of Ned Stark. She was very beautiful and kind and my brother Robert loved her - perhaps a bit too obsessively,” he mumbled.

Shireen stepped closer to the statue and ran her hands on the stone. “What are these?”

“What, darling?” Renly asked. Loras’ heart quickened when he saw his husband looking much more mature yet gentler than the last time he’d seen him.

“These small purple stones over her heart. She’s the only one with stones,” Shireen noted.

“I can answer that, My Lady,” said Sansa. “I asked the same question once when I was very little. Father said that he wanted to give his sister in death what she had wanted in life.”

Both Shireen and Renly turned around. His husband had the good sense to take a step back when Loras raised an eyebrow at him, but he still looked at Loras with adoration, even in the dimly lit Crypts of Winterfell.

“What does that mean?” Shireen asked, cocking her head, her eyes travelling from Sansa to Loras and back.

“I am not sure. He never explained,” Sansa said. “Would you like to see the dress I’m making?”

“Of course,” she said before hugging Loras tightly. “Welcome, Uncle Loras. I hope that we can speak at the feast tonight.”

Loras dropped a kiss on top of her head and rubbed her arms. “Of course. It is nice to see you,” he said and watched Shireen walk away with Sansa, who looked over her shoulder with a smile before turning around the corner. 

“Lo…”

“How dare you?” Loras asked. “You made me think you were dead! I grieved you and you were…” He gestured vaguely.

“Up north, living in the woods, then in a farm. I became quite good at growing vegetables and raising pigs,” Renly smiled.

“It’s not funny.”

“I know, love,” Renly said, walking up to him and grasping his trembling hands. “I will spend the rest of my life begging you to forgive me, but I do not regret my decision.”

“Why?” Loras asked, one tear rolling down his cheek.

“That night -” Renly said and pulled him into a hug. “Lo - it was horrible. It was by mere chance that I survived. That thing, it had my brother’s face. It tried to stab me, but Catelyn Stark called my name and when I turned around, the shadow hit a pendant Phil had given me only moments before. I was confused, betrayed, and terrified of the possibilities. What would be of you when I died? Of Shireen? So many people would have died. I think that I was saved for a reason and I made sure to keep us all alive until it was safe.” He kissed Loras’ hair.

“I was devastated,” Loras choked out. “I thought that I would go mad with grief so I did whatever I could do to keep the pain buried deep inside. I joined the Lannisters only to kill Stannis. I put a sword through his head and another through his heart for you! Then I rolled from bed to bed, from lover to lover, hoping to feel less but all I could do was drown in a sea of sorrow and misery. I hate who I became.”

“I don’t fault you for what you did, my love,” Renly said and Loras could see that he was being honest, even if he was hurt. “You thought that I was gone and instead of letting that kill you, you kept yourself alive through the tremendous pain and now you are here with me. We get another chance to make things right.” He shook his head. “I could never be angry at you for continuing with your life without me.”

Loras looked up to his husband and finally kissed him. He kissed Renly for all the years he couldn’t do so. It tasted of the salt of his tears, of heartbreak and of hope for what was to come. He now realised he was not only deeply hurt and angry at Renly, but at himself, for not being a better husband, for not waiting longer.

“I love you, Loras. Wanting to see you again was the only thing keeping me alive. Time changes people, so does war, but my love for you will never change, even if your love for me does.”

Loras pressed his forehead to Renly’s. “I could never stop loving you, but if you ever lie to me again I will kill you with my bare hands.”

Renly led Loras back to his room and by the fireplace removed every piece of clothing from his body, before laying him down on the furs and running his lips all over Loras’ skin. 

Moaning, Loras let his eyes fall shut as Renly took him into his mouth and pleasured him over and over again until he was covered in sweat, shaking and begging for mercy. Only then, Renly took him, gently, lovingly, burning slow like a lasting fire that threatened to drive Loras mad. 

SAM

The Citadel, The Reach, Westeros. 

The life of an aspiring Maester was not what Sam had imagined. He was mostly ignored except when he received orders, his time to read was fairly limited and there was more cleaning old Maesters’ chamber pots than he had foreseen, the number of which was none. Serving lunch and supper was a less nefarious affair, but still not what he had travelled so far for. He had been kindly allowed to keep Gilly and Baby Sam with him after much argument, but his access to the restricted library was denied every time he asked. He could see from afar that the titles he needed to research were there. Everything about The Long Night, the prophecies, information about previous winters even; everything was behind bars. 

There was, of course, an incredible amount of books at his disposal, thousands of them, and he did learn many things, but he wanted to learn more.

At least he was able to send Jon a raven letting him know that he’d found a book describing the deposit of dragonglass under Dragonstone. It seemed both obsidian and the island were of volcanic origin.

---

An odd thing happened when he was assigned to feed those in seclusion. A greyscale riddled hand shot out of the door and tried to grab him, asking him about the Dragon Queen and if she had arrived at Westeros yet, but he didn’t know. 

This person, the man locked away in that room, got his attention right away but there was no information about him and the Archmaester refused to answer until a few weeks later, when he asked Sam to accompany him into the man’s room. 

As it turned out, the man was nobody but Jeor Mormont’s son, Jorah. The Archmaester said the greyscale had spread too much and he had one more day to decide what to do. It was a polite way to suggest to him that he end his own suffering, but - Sam had seen something, a rare procedure that had worked once before. He was banned from treating Ser Jorah because it was simply too dangerous, but loyal to his old Lord Commander, Sam brought the necessary elements in the middle of the night and offered the man the option: A painful and slow procedure that would require cutting the outer layers of his skin with dragonglass and using a special ointment, while he had to keep silent so they wouldn’t be discovered. 

They agreed to continue. Ser Jorah biting down on a piece of leather to keep from screaming and a bottle of rum between them to take swigs from as things got more and more difficult, but come morning, hands exhausted and trembling, the treatment was completed and the only thing left to do was wait. By the time the Archmaester decided to check on Ser Jorah, he found him to be in perfect condition; except for the very vivid scars, and asked him nothing but to leave since his room was needed for the ill. Sam had found that Daenerys Targaryen had arrived at Dragonstone and let him know that, which made Ser Jorah smile for the first and only time.

Sam was punished for his rebellious attitude and for trying to use a banned procedure that could have killed him, but he was also rewarded by being allowed to transcribe books and documents that were rotting away at the Citadel. 

One of said books was quite interesting, to say the least. Gilly was reading an old maester’s diary when she found that Rhaegar Targaryen’s wedding to his wife Elia Martell had been annulled shortly before his death and he’d married someone else in a secret ceremony: Lyanna Stark.

“But - Robert’s rebellion started because it was said she was captured by Rhaegar. That’s why Robert hated him and his entire family so much. It was based on a lie!” Sam said.

Gilly frowned. “Do you think he knew that?”

“Perhaps… perhaps not. He was supposed to marry her, but I guess she didn’t feel the same way.”

“It says here that they both died within a year of their wedding,” Gilly said before picking little Sam up. He was taking to running around the library if left to roam for too long.

“That’s sad, don’t you think?”

Gilly nodded but focused back on their child. 

Still, Sam took an interest in reading more about Targaryen history, which resulted conveniently when he received a new raven asking him to return to the North and go to Winterfell. Jon was now King in the North, Daniel was Lord of Winterfell and so many things had changed since he’d sailed south, but Jon was asking him to return and he would, even if he was not ready. 

Stealing the keys from the restricted library and taking every book about their current predicament that he could find was easy enough. Escaping with said books, a woman, and a child in the middle of the night was a different matter. Thankfully, they made it out of the Citadel without being discovered.

ARYA

Inn at the Crossroads, Westeros.

Arya ran her fingers through her hair and smiled up to the sun. She was close enough to King’s Landing, but before she went on with her list, there was something she wanted to do.

Tying her horse outside, she walked into the Inn at the Crossroads and sat at a table, looking around for a familiar face and soon enough, he found her. 

“Arri!” Hot Pie said, setting a tray with various dishes on her table. “How are you doing?”

“Who are those for?” She asked and not waiting for an answer, grabbed a bowl of soup and a plate of pie. She took a few bites and groaned. “This is delicious.”

“Oh, the secret of my pie is to brown the butter beforehand; nobody takes the time to do that.”

“Hmm, I didn’t do that,” she commented.

“Have you baked pies before?”

“Done one or two recently,” she smiled.

“Where have you been?” Hot Pie asked. “Everyone thought you were dead!”

“That works well enough for me. I’ve been all around. Just came back from Braavos.”

“Braavos? What were you doing there?”

“Becoming a trained assassin for the God of Death,” she said before bursting out laughing.

Hot Pie joined her, clutching at his belly with how ridiculous the idea sounded to him. Arya couldn’t blame him, she wouldn’t have believed it either. He wiped his eyes and patted her hand. “Are you going back home?”

“No, why would I?”

“To see your family!”

“The Boltons are in Winterfell.”

“No, they’re not. Your brother Jon and the other one took it back and killed them. Your sister is there too.” He bit into one of the pies as well and smiled at her. “I met your brother, did you know? The tall one?”

“Are you absolutely sure, Hot Pie?”

“Yes! I tell you, I hear everything around here. People like to talk.”

Arya pressed her lips into a line before nodding. “Thank you,” she said, standing up. “Don’t get murdered, Hot Pie. You are a good man.”

“I won’t. Promise,” he hugged her and patted her back. “Hey, Arri. I don’t know how I believed you were a boy. You’re pretty.”

She laughed. “Thank you.”

Walking out of the Inn she realised she hadn’t paid for her meal but she didn’t have any silver left and didn’t want to steal so she just took her horse and rode to the Crossroads. She had two options: King’s Landing or Winterfell. She searched in her heart and realised that seeing her family meant more to her than killing Cersei ever would. She wanted to hug them, to speak to them. 

Patting the side of her horse’s neck, she pulled the reins to the path leading north.

---

After weeks of travelling, she decided to camp for a full night and set a fire, which she often didn’t, but she was finally entering the North and she could feel the cold seeping into her bones. She knew the fire could attract unwanted visitors, criminals, and predators, but it was cold enough for her to take that chance.

Setting the fire took some time and there was barely any shelter from the elements but at least Arya had a good spot to see any attackers coming. She was just about to lay down on a fallen tree for the night when there was noise around her. She could hear it all around her, as if she was being watched, but no matter where she looked, she couldn’t see anything, until -

A growl coming from behind her startled Arya. She turned around very slowly, only to be met by a wolf, then another, and another, an entire pack surrounding her and her horse. She considered her options, but there was no chance she would make it out alive. Finally another wolf arrived and all the others let it through. Arya smiled; she would’ve recognised that face anywhere. 

“Hello, girl. You are so beautiful, so grown. I see you have a pack now,” Arya took a step towards Nymeria even though she was growling at her, threatening to bite her. “It’s alright, Nymeria, It's me. I’m going home.” She took another step and another until Nymeria could smell her better and stopped growling. “You should come with me. Direwolves belong in the North.”

Nymeria took a step away from her, licking her lips. The other members of the pack did the same. After giving her one last look, Nymeria turned around and walked away from her, leading her pack away from Arya. “I guess that’s not you anymore.”

Sitting down on the fallen tree and looking into the flames, Arya smiled sadly. She wished she could go back in time and live her old life, with her entire family alive, with Nymeria, just - feeling that same sort of excitement for life again. She laid down and closed her eyes, falling into a heavy sleep, dreaming of her parents and Winterfell and the magic lost.

DAN

Jon stood out in the gallery, where their father used to stand and watch them play, train and grow. He looked at his men training, the blacksmiths forging new weapons and frowned, looking down at the message on his and passing it to Sansa. 

“Do you think it’s really Tyrion? It could be someone trying to lure you into a trap,” said Sansa.

“All dwarfs are bastards in their father’s eyes,” Jon said. “That’s what he told me when we first met. You know him better than any of us. What do you think?”

“Tyrion is not like the other Lannisters, he was always kind to me, but it’s too great of a risk,” Sansa mused. 

“I think you should go,” Dan said. 

She pursed her lips and read the rest of the message out loud. “The Seven Kingdoms will bleed as long as Cersei sits on The Iron Throne. Join us, together, we can end her tyranny.”

“I like the sound of that. You should meet her,” Dan said, feeling more certain about it.

“Daenerys Targaryen has 3 full grown dragons, thousands of Unsullied soldiers and an enormous Dothraki horde, it would be crazy, but - dragons breathe fire and fire kills White Walkers,” added Ser Davos.

“And there’s the dragonglass she is sitting upon,” Jon said. “We need it.”

Sansa rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“I still value your opinion, Sansa, and I do agree that it is dangerous, but I have to go.”

“I will join you,” she said.

“You will not. Dan and Ser Davos will sail to Dragonstone with me. You, dear sister, are in charge of Winterfell. Dan said you know more about running our home than he does, so for the time being you will be the Lady of Winterfell.”

“Phil should come with us,” Dan rushed to add.

“Why is everyone going but me?” Sansa complained, although her face had lit up at being named Acting Lady.

Jon snickered. “And why would Phil need to come with us?”

“Well - the Tyrells and the Targaryens have always been allies.”

Ser Davos cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Your Grace, would the Mother of Dragons speak with a bastard?”

“She is the Breaker of Chains, I don’t see why not. She will have to speak to two, whether she wants it or not.”

Dan was starting to doubt his suggestion, but he didn’t want to be away from Phil again. “Perhaps send a raven in advance.”

Balerion came charging at him and to Dan’s surprise, he hid behind him. “What is wrong?” he asked, but then felt claws and paws trying to reach Balerion through his legs. “Ser Pounce! Leave him be, he’s scared of you!”

The black direwolf whined and backed away from the cat.

“Oh, come here you,” Dan said, picking the cat up and bringing him to his chest. “It’s alright. You are safe here. I know you lost your master, but you have a home with us.”

“You could take the wolves as well. She’ll make you leave your weapons but might let you keep them with you.”

“Are you also going to suggest that I take the cat as well?” Jon asked.

“No, Ser Pounce stays with me,” Sansa said, extending her hands towards the orange cat and catching him as he jumped towards her. “Come, help me finish embroidering my new dress by the fire. I’ll let you sleep on my bed.”

“The animals in this castle are spoiled,” Ser Davos said. 

Dan nodded. “They are, but they do rip the throats of those trying to harm us if needed so I believe it’s a fair trade.”

---

The journey south was long and not pleasant at all, but it at least allowed Dan to be able to reconnect with Phil and the wolves enjoyed the change of scenery and adventure. In a way, maybe Dan and Phil were like them too, not too eager to settle in one place and lay roots. No matter how much Dan had missed his home, being away from it, even if it was for a brief trip, allowed him to breathe a little easier, to rest better at night. As long as they were in the ship, he could pretend that there was no threat or impending doom hanging over their heads. In the ship, he could just be Dan and he could just love Phil.

That calm, that sense of relief vanished as soon as he saw the distant shores of Dragonstone. A sterile looking mountain full of sharp edges with a stone castle and a sandy beach.

As Sansa had foreseen, their weapons were taken as soon as they arrived at the beach, but after sending one of the Unsullied generals to plea for them, Ghost, Greywind and Balerion, were allowed to follow, granted that their masters stood between them and the Queen’s men.

A long winding path uphill and heavy wooden doors later, they finally stood in the Throne Room.

A beautiful girl, perhaps Daenerys’ advisor or Lady in waiting spoke first to introduce her. “You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of house Targaryen, rightful heir to The Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains.”

Daenerys nodded at them and waited for them to introduce themselves.

“This is Jon Snow…” said Ser Davos. “He's King in the North.”

Tyrion Lannister made no effort to hide his laugh.

“Thank you for travelling so far, My Lord, I hope the seas weren't too rough.”

“The winds were kind, Your Grace,” said Jon with a smile.

Daenerys then looked at Dan and Phil, thankfully Phil was the one to break the ice. “Your Grace, I am a mere bastard of House Tyrell, my name is Philip Flowers.”

“Welcome, Philip. Your grandmother is one of my supporters, she said that you may accompany Daniel, the Lord of Winterfell, as you two are betrothed.”

Dan started coughing in spite of himself but recovered quickly when Phil nodded. “Yes, this is Daniel Stark, Lord of Winterfell and younger sibling of King Jon Snow.”

“Lord Tyrion spoke highly of you and your brother, My Lord. It is surprising to me that you are housing a usurper, Renly Baratheon, yet you decided to answer my summon,” she said.

Phil took a step forward but Dan reached for his hand and laced their fingers. “Your Grace, I mean no offence. Renly is Ser Loras Tyrell’s husband and consequently a part of Phil’s family. The Tyrells and Renly himself saved my life at the time of my father’s execution. They hid me in King’s Landing and helped me escape. A few months later, when my brother Robb was leading the war against the Lannisters, Renly accepted his offer for an allegiance, respecting the North’s independence, but there was an attempt on his life, orchestrated by a Red Priestess and he decided to let everyone believe he was dead to keep Stannis’ daughter, his niece, safe as well as Loras. He knew he couldn’t win then so he waited, and now he is willing to keep waiting. He sends a message, if I may…”

Tyrion looked at her for approval and walked over to Dan who gave him the parchment. Balerion tried to lick his face but sat still when Dan snapped his fingers. “It says that he does not want to go to an open war with you, Your Grace. Instead he wants to negotiate once your common enemies have been defeated. He says he has no army at the moment and he does not think it is time for him to search for one, he is merely following Jon Snow’s commands in this war.”

Daenerys raised one eyebrow at Dan and looked towards Jon. “What war is Renly Baratheon speaking of, Lord Snow? Is it yours with the crown?”

Ser Davos cleared his throat. “Your grace, apologies, I have a flea bottom accent, but Jon Snow is King in the North, he's not a Lord.” 

“Forgive me…” Daenerys trailed off, looking at her Hand.

“Your Grace, this is Ser Davos Seaworth,” said Tyrion.

Daenerys nodded. “Forgive me,  Ser Davos, I never did receive a formal education, but I could have sworn I read the last King in the North was Tauren Stark, who bent the knee to my ancestor Aegon Targaryen in exchange for his life and the lives of the northmen. Tauren Stark swore fealty to house Targaryen in perpetuity, or do I have my facts wrong?”

“I wasn't there, Your Grace,” Ser Davos pointed out.

“No, of course not, but still an oath is an oath in perpetuity,” Daenerys said. “What does perpetuity mean, Lord tyrion?”

“Forever.”

“Forever,” Daenerys smiled. “So I assume, My Lord, you're here to bend the knee.”

Jon shook his head. “I am not.”

“No? Well, that is unfortunate,” her smile turned as cold as ice. “You've travelled all this way to break faith with House Targaryen?”

“Break faith?” Jon scoffed. “Your father burned my grandfather alive, he burned my uncle alive. He would have burned the Seven Kingdoms if-” 

“My father was an evil man. On behalf of House Targaryen, I ask your forgiveness for the crimes he committed against your family, and I ask you not to judge a daughter by the sins of her father,” Daenerys said. “Our two houses were allies for centuries and those were the best centuries the Seven Kingdoms have ever known, centuries of peace and prosperity with a Targaryen sitting on The Iron Throne and a Stark serving as Warden of the North. I am the last Targaryen, Jon Snow, honour the pledge your ancestor made to mine, bend the knee and I will name you Warden of the North. Together we will save this country from those who would destroy it.”

“You're right,” Jon said. “You're not guilty of your father's crimes and I'm not beholden to my ancestors' vows.”

Dan looked at Phil with a small smile. Jon was so good at this, he was a true King.

“Then why are you here?” She pressed, clearly unhappy.

“Because I need your help and you need mine,” Jon replied.

She cocked her head. “Did you see three dragons flying overhead when you arrived?”

“I did,” he nodded. 

“And did you see the Dothraki all of whom have sworn to kill for me?” She asked.

“They're hard to miss,” Jon smirked.

“But still I need your help…?” Daenerys said. Dan could almost picture her crossing her arms like a small child. She was a very commanding woman, albeit a bit… unrelenting.

“Not to defeat Cersei,” Jon said and Dan knew he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes at her. “You could storm King's Landing tomorrow and the city would fall. Hell, Stannis almost took it and he didn't even have dragons.”

“Almost,” said Tyrion.

Jon continued, unfaced. “But you haven't stormed King's Landing. Why? The only reason I can see is you don't want to kill thousands of innocent people. It's the fastest way to win the war but you won't do it, which means, at the very least, you're better than Cersei.”

“Still that doesn't explain why I need your help.”

“Because right now you, and I and Cersei, and everyone else, we're children playing at a game, screaming that the rules aren't fair.”

“You told me you liked this man,” Daenerys said curtly to Tyrion.

“I do,” he agreed.

“In the time since he's met me, he's refused to call me Queen, he's refused to bow, and now he's calling me a child.”

“I believe he's calling all of us children. Figure of speech, Your Grace.”

Jon stepped forward with a frown upon his face. “Everyone you know will die before winter's over if we don't defeat the enemy to the North.”

“As far as I can see, you are the enemy to the North,” she said.

“I am not your enemy, if I was, I wouldn’t have come with my family - the dead are the enemy.”

Daenerys sat back, pressing her back against the stone throne she was occupying. “Go on.”

“When I was ranging beyond The Wall, we saw it. We all saw it. An army of dead bodies commanded by White Walkers. There was an attack against Castle Black, the wildlings were trying to flee south and at the time, I didn’t understand. I wanted to keep them out, to protect Westeros from them. But when the battle was over, I understood that if they remained beyond The Wall, they would only make the enemy’s numbers larger. They didn’t deserve such a horrible fate, nobody does. I made a deal with one of the leaders and I sailed to Hardhome to rescue as many wildlings as I could.”

“How did that go for you, to make an allegiance with those who you were supposed to fight?”

“It didn’t go as planned, but not because of us. We tried to save them, but - the White Walkers descended from the mountains in a - a sort of snow storm, the dead raining on the camp, killing the free folk faster than we could get them out. Only a few thousand made it out alive out of the one hundred thousand. They now live near Winterfell, and some are manning the same castles they once tried to raid. Now is the time for us to put our differences behind us and unite against the dead. Once that is settled we can go to war with Cersei.”

“Do you believe this man?” Daenerys asked Tyrion.

“I was once hesitant to the stories I heard at The Wall, but the more I saw of this world, the more I realised that it is beautiful and horrifying, with magic and creatures beyond what anyone can ever imagine. I believe Jon Snow, Your Grace.”

“Very well. You and your family will be led to your rooms, Lord Snow. We have much to talk about.”

“You are taking us prisoners?” Jon asked.

“You are my guests for the time being,” she said and casting one last look in Phil’s direction, she left.

---

The next few days were a bit disconcerting. Jon pleaded with Daenerys to let him mine for dragonglass but she refused without much explanation. She did let them see her dragons, her children, she called them. Dan wanted to be jealous of the way Phil was fascinated by the creatures, asking her questions about them, but he was just as impressed and hanging onto her every word as well.

Still, it was a bit concerning that Daenerys gave Phil as much attention as she could, often choosing to speak to him over Dan or Jon. She even let him touch one of the dragons.

“May I, Your Grace?” Phil asked.

“That is Viserion. If he lets you… you are welcome to try,” she said with a smile.

“Phil - I don’t think that is a good idea,” Dan said.

Daenerys watched in rapt attention as Phil pressed his hand to the golden dragon’s nose, the creature almost leaning into the touch.

“Hello, Viserion, my name is Phil. You are so beautiful.”

Viserion shut his eyes and lowered his head before Phil. Both Dan and Phil turned to Daenerys, who frowned but didn’t explain what the dragon was doing.

Dan’s stomach almost crawled out of his body when the biggest of the three dragons landed beside them. Greywind stayed off to the side, eyeing him curiously, but Ghost and Barelion went up to greet him. Dan wanted to scream and throw himself to his knees, to stop them from becoming the dragon’s next meal, but he was frozen in place, knowing that any sudden movement might end with all of them dead.

Ghost trotted up to the dragon, smelling him and looking into its eyes, the dragon looking at him with interest. Balerion, of course, was too excited for such an interaction. He jumped and whined and wagged his tail at it, trying to invite him to play. 

It was Daenerys who reacted first, letting out a loud laugh. “Drogon, he wants to play! What do you think?”

“Balerion, come here!” Dan said through gritted teeth.

“You named him Balerion?” She asked, turning to him.

“Of course. He has always been a black dread and the biggest of the litter,” Dan said with a smile. “He likes most people, so he’s not that menacing.”

“Still, I like that you named him after such a great Targaryen symbol.”

Dan nodded. “My sister Arya’s wolf was named Nymeria. We don’t hate the Targaryens despite everything that’s happened, but the northerners appreciate their independence. They will never trust a southern Queen - or a King for that matter. The North being a part of the Seven Kingdoms is a mere formality. None of them bother with us and we don’t bother with them.” 

“What do you suggest then?”

“Help us fight the dead and we will help you take King’s Landing.”

“How would I know you wouldn’t be helping Renly Baratheon instead?”

“We would help vacate the throne. Whether you or Renly agree to take it, that is your business.”

“And you believe him when he says he doesn’t want a war?”

“I do. He spent years away from Loras to keep him safe and to keep Shireen safe. Keeping her safe was more important to him than his claim to the throne so he decided to take her into hiding. He would have wanted to be here, but he feels responsible for her and he knew coming here would be dangerous for him. He’s a good man.”

“You speak very highly of him,” she said.

“He helped me and he tried to help my father but he was too stubborn and honourable to accept his offer.”

“Do you think honour is a bad trait?”

“When it can leave your children fatherless and your house in danger - yes. Renly didn’t ask him to kill anyone, just to take Cersei and her children into custody, that was all.”

“Would the great Renly Baratheon let his nephews and niece live to question his claim?”

“I believe so. He is not a killer, he is not even a fighter. He is trying to learn now, to join the war, but that’s not who he is.”

She nodded. “When we take King’s Landing, I want him to fight alongside your brother.”

“Does that mean that you agree to his proposal?” Dan asked.

“I am not sure yet, Lord Stark. I will know when I speak to him in person,” she said before letting out a shocked laugh when Balerion pressed his nose to her hand. She ran her fingers through his fur without a thread of fear, not even when he chewed onto her fingers. “Balerion… you are not a black dread, just a sweet child.”

Balerion let out a short, excited howl and took off running around Drogon who merely looked at him and exhaled through his nose.

#phanfiction #phanfic #phan #phan au #succubusphan fics #game of thrones #got fic #ospbb 2022

[technologygd]

How to Find Reliable Pet Services and Advice

When it comes to ensuring the well-being of our beloved pets, finding reliable information and services is paramount. As a pet owner, I've navigated through the vast sea of options, seeking the best for my furry companions. In this article, I'll delve into the world of pet care and share how Pets24 emerged as my go-to destination for all things pet-related.

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Finding the best pet services can be akin to searching for a needle in a haystack. From pet insurance to grooming salons, the options seem endless, yet the quality and reliability vary greatly. As a discerning pet owner, I sought a platform that could streamline this process, offering comprehensive guidance and a vetted directory of services. Enter Pets24.

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Pets24 isn't just another website; it's a community dedicated to providing the best for our furry, feathery, or scaly friends. As South Africa's largest online pet community, Pets24 is a one-stop destination for pet owners seeking advice, services, and products. With a mission to ensure pets receive the love and care they deserve, Pets24 offers a plethora of resources tailored to every pet owner's needs.

Premium Content and Insights

One of the standout features of Pets24 is its premium content on various pet-related topics. From nutrition to training tips, their blog covers it all with expert insights and practical advice. As a pet owner, I've found myself immersed in their articles, gaining valuable knowledge to enhance my pet's well-being.

The Paws & Effect Podcast: Engaging Conversations

For those who prefer auditory learning, Pets24 offers the "Paws & Effect" podcast. Hosted by passionate pet enthusiasts, this podcast explores a myriad of pet-related topics, providing listeners with engaging conversations and expert interviews. Whether you're commuting or relaxing at home, tuning in to "Paws & Effect" is both educational and enjoyable.

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Beyond content, Pets24 boasts an extensive directory of registered breeders, shelters, veterinarians, and pet-friendly accommodations across South Africa. Whether you're searching for a reputable breeder or a pet-friendly hotel for your next vacation, Pets24 has you covered. Their directory is meticulously curated, ensuring that only the best services make the cut.

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Conclusion: Trusting Pets24 for Pet Care Needs

In conclusion, Pets24 has emerged as my trusted companion in navigating the complex landscape of pet care. With their wealth of resources, comprehensive directory, and engaging content, Pets24 has truly revolutionized the way I care for my pets. Whether you're a seasoned pet owner or a novice enthusiast, Pets24 is your ultimate guide to providing the best for your furry friends. Trust me; your pets will thank you for it.

[tsyllaes]

I like griffins with the front legs being the eagle's legs, otherwise to me it just feels like a cat with wings and an eagle's head. Also, because these are real creatures in Llayad and not beings of myth, they aren't gonna be the size of lions because I can't envisage something that big being able to fly. So they're not big cat sized. Also more exist than just these four, these are just the ones to fill all the biomes so I've got something. If I need more later then I can make more.

Llayan griffins are, as I say, like any other wild animal. They live as mated pairs for life and have a clutch of three eggs every five years. As the chicks learn to hunt and become more independant, the parents take less and less part in their lives and they leave to find their own territories.

The legend goes that a griffin's feather restores sight to the blind, but only when given as a gift. I wrote a story about that about a decade ago. Idk whether the legend is true or not, but I don't think so.

The griffin is also one of the zodiac creatures, the sign for those born in the first half of autumn. I'll get into that when I draw the pics for the zodiac =3

The tawny sand griffin, the only truly desert-dwelling griffin. It's only small, smaller than your average house cat, with a stumpy little tail and floofy paws so its feet don't get burnt on the sand. Named the tawny sand griffin cos I used a tawny eagle and a sand cat as reference, both natives of the African desert. Sand cats are tiny adorable babies.

The original griffin I created based on a serval! This one's the native of the savanna. Loooong elegant legs, much pretty kitty :D

Clouded griffin of the Llayan forests and lowlands, based off a clouded leopard because I LOVE those things. They're from the rainforests of South-East Asia, so not quite Africa but still fits in my world. I therefore also googled eagles of SEAsia and found the Phillipine eagle, which has an impressive mane, so this is the only griffin with a mane.

The biggest griffin, from the Llayan mountains. These aren't based on anything in particular, though I used a crested eagle as ref for the eagle part, the mottled grey/black patterning just fits the mountains.

#griffin #llayad #wildlife #llayan wildlife #tawny sand griffin #serval griffin #clouded griffin #mountain griffin #artists of tumblr

[meegan420]

I love your job!! I adore each of the beautiful images you post! You are an amazing person and your work is beautiful!! >//u//<

Thank You 🥹 I really needed this ✨💖✨I love your page and your Artwork is Amazing!!! TYSM

Butters South Park/South Paws 🐾

Thanks again for your kindness🙏🏻I truly appreciate it and you!

#an ask #mutual appreciation #my stuff #south park #butters stotch #kenny mccormick #south paws 🐾 #hamsters #tysm mwah #butters sp #kenny sp

[lastpetlove]

I love my dog st pete

The Unique Bond Between Humans and Dogs

The love­ we share with our canine companions transce­nds surface-level inte­ractions. It's a meaningful emotional relationship that instills our days with happine­ss, reassurance, I love my dog st Pete and significance. Dogs posse­ss an innate talent to perce­ive and react to human fee­lings, cultivating a connection that endures challe­nges. Our furry friends fee­l when we're down and lift our spirits through unconditional affe­ction. Tales and research show that owning a dog promote­s well-being, from easing lone­liness to encouraging regular e­xercise. As man's best frie­nd, pooches bring us joy in big and small moments. Whethe­r greeting us at the door or cuddling on the­ couch, dogs add comfort and purpose to our lives with their unwave­ring loyalty and trust. Their ability to sense e­motions creates lasting bonds of care, re­spect and friendship.

Why St. Pete is a Pet-Friendly Haven

St. Pete­ truly excels as a paradise for pe­t owners and their belove­d animal companions. I love my dog st pete Within the city, you'll find countless gree­n spaces, recreational are­as, and community gatherings specially create­d with our four-legged loved one­s in mind. Large dog parks like Bartlett Park allow pe­ts to roam freely and socialize and play to the­ir heart's content, off their le­ash.Meanwhile, local beache­s like Pasadena Avenue­ South give both people and pups the­ chance to enjoy long walks togethe­r along the shore. Whethe­r at the numerous playgrounds for paws or attending one­ of the many pet-friendly fe­stivals held throughout the year, St. Pe­te ensures that dogs and othe­r furry friends can experie­nce and appreciate this sce­nic waterfront municipality right beside the­ir doting human families.

  With so much to offer animal lovers, it's no surprise­ this Gulf Coast city has become a top destination for pe­ople and pets alike looking to make­ lasting memories

The Joy of Outdoor Activities with Your Dog

As a dog owner re­siding in St. Petersburg, you have acce­ss to a variety of outdoor activities that allow both you and your canine companion to re­main physically and mentally engaged. With its many parks and nature­ trails scattered throughout the city, St. Pe­te presents dog guardians with nume­rous choices for low-key walks or more vigorous hike­s.

You can opt for a relaxing stroll through a shady green space­ near your home where­ you and your pup can unwind after a long day. Alternatively, you may wish to ve­nture further into the local wilde­rness areas for an exhilarating tre­k with your dog by your side, I love my dog st pete taking in scenic views toge­ther as you both reap the he­alth benefits of fresh air and e­xercise.

Whethe­r you and your dog seek calm recre­ation or stimulating adventure, the abundance­ of parks and trails ensures you will always find suitable outdoor de­stinations tailored to your activity level and mood.

Dog-Friendly Establishments in St. Pete

The city of St. Pe­tersburg has increasingly adopted the­ welcoming of pets at various establishme­nts. Starting as just a few cozy cafes and trendy re­staurants permitting dogs, many locations around town now accommodate owners who want to e­njoy an outing while still having their furry friend by the­ir side. 

Whether stopping for a casual coffe­e or relaxed me­al, I love my dog st pete residents and visitors alike have­ come to appreciate the­ option to bring along their loyal companion rather than leaving the­m at home. With a moderate dive­rsity of settings catering to both people­ and pets, residents and visitors to St. Pe­tersburg can experie­nce an enhanced se­nse of community and connection

#petlove #lostpets #smartpet #lostandfoundpets #dogmissing #peacelovepets #petslover #ilovemypet #lotsalovepetrescue

[bestdealzforyou]

 Top 10 Pet Shops in Kolkata Best Dealz For You

1- Olympic Pet Nation

Pet store in Kolkata, West Bengal

Address: s7, Olympic pet nation, New Market Clock Tower, Esplanade, Dharmatala, Taltala, Kolkata, West Bengal 700087

Hours: Open ⋅ Closes 8:30 pm

Phone: [phone]

Olympic pet nation – The International Olympic Committee is the guardian of the Olympic Games and the leader of the Olympic Movement. A truly global organisation, it acts as a catalyst for collaboration between all Olympic stakeholders, including the athletes, the National Olympic Committees, the International Federations, Organising Committees for the Olympic Games, the Worldwide Olympic Partners and Olympic broadcast partners. It also collaborates with public and private authorities including the United Nations and other international organisations. The vision of the International Olympic Committee is to Build a Better World through Sport.

https://olympics.com/ioc/overview

2- Pink Paws Salt Lake | Pet Shop in Salt Lake | Pet Accessories

Pet store in West Bengal

Address: AB 12, 1st Ave Rd, AB Block, Sector 1, Bidhannagar, Kolkata, West Bengal 700064

Areas served: 700079 and nearby areas

Hours: Open ⋅ Closes 9 pm

Phone: [phone]

Pink Paws Salt Lake – We offer a range of premium quality pet care products from the finest brands in the world at affordable costs. Ever since its inception, we have emerged as the preferred destination to buy all kinds of pet essentials that ensure healthy living of pets. It is our affection and incredible love for pets that has nurtured the passion to improve the lives of pets and pet parents. Since our founding, we have been pioneering new standards in pet care and providing comprehensive pet care solutions through our wide selection of products and services

https://www.pinkpaws.co.in/

3- Pink Paws Kasba | Best Pet Clinic | Pet Shop in Kasba | Top Pet Store | Pet Grooming Services

Pet store in Kolkata, West Bengal

Address: 169, Rajdanga Nabapally Ln, Rajdanga Nabapalli, Sector A, Kasba, Kolkata, West Bengal 700107

Areas served: Sonarpur and nearby areas

Hours: Open ⋅ Closes 9 pm

Phone: [phone]

Pink Paws Kasba – We offer a range of premium quality pet care products from the finest brands in the world at affordable costs. Ever since its inception, we have emerged as the preferred destination to buy all kinds of pet essentials that ensure healthy living of pets. It is our affection and incredible love for pets that has nurtured the passion to improve the lives of pets and pet parents. Since our founding, we have been pioneering new standards in pet care and providing comprehensive pet care solutions through our wide selection of products and services

https://www.pinkpaws.co.in/

4- Tales of Joy | pet & bird shop in Kolkata | Picnic Garden

Pet store

Address: 25, Rai Charan Ghosh Ln, Picnic Garden, Tiljala, Kolkata, West Bengal 700039

Areas served: Kolkata

Hours: Open ⋅ Closes 8 pm

Phone: [phone]

Tales of Joy | pet & bird shop in Kolkata – we are located in 25, Rai Charan Ghosh Ln, Picnic Garden, Tiljala, Kolkata, West Bengal 700039. We are the one-stop-shop for all your pet’s needs. “If having a soul means being able to feel love and loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans.” From now on, it is the responsibility of Tales of Joy to fill every moment of your life with happiness. The mission of the company is “To provide all premium quality pets with complete package of products and services for every pet owner

5- Fins & Paws

Pet store in Kolkata, West Bengal

Address: 224, Jodhpur Park Rd, near South City, Mall, Kolkata, West Bengal 700075

Areas served: Poddar Nagar and nearby areas

Hours: Open ⋅ Closes 9:30 pm

Phone: [phone]

Fins & Paws – Very good experience, polite and helpful behaviour. I would like to suggest this pet shop for all the necessary needs of your pets. It was just a phone call shopping and the owner himself took the responsibility to drop in my address as it was an urgent need. Thank you so much for the support

6- Animal Lovers Pet Shop(Behala)

Pet store in Kolkata, West Bengal

Address: 37 Satyen Roy Road, James Long Sarani, near Sri Sangha Club, Kolkata, West Bengal 700034

Hours: Open 24 hours

Phone: [phone]

Animal Lovers Pet Shop – Animal Lovers Pet Shop is one of the best pet Shop at Behala where all pet food, medicine & accessories are available at huge discount. Best Pet Shop in kolkata. This shop also provide pet clinic facilities. Pet medicine, pet accessories, veterinarian ( pet doctor ) pet food lik royal canin , Pedigree, whiskas , hills available

7- New Hindustan Pet Shop

Pet store in Kolkata, West Bengal

Address: FR Clock Tower, 16, Bertram St, New Market Area, Dharmatala, Taltala, Kolkata, West Bengal 700087

Hours: Open ⋅ Closes 8 pm

Phone: [phone]

8- Krypto’s Pet Shop

Pet store in Kolkata, West Bengal

Address: 127A, Narkeldanga Main Rd, near Gurudas Halt, Phool Bagan, Kankurgachi, Kolkata, West Bengal 700054

Hours: Open ⋅ Closes 9 pm

Phone: [phone]

Krypto’s Pet Shop – Very good owner. very helpful. Got my dogs medicine within one day itself even though he didnt have it in stock. We will probably become regular customers from now on. Very good knowledge about dogs too..

9- ATS Puppy Store | KCI Regd. Breeder | ISO Certified Pet Shop In Kolkata

Pet store in Kolkata, West Bengal

Address: 146/C, Sarat Ghosh Garden Rd, Dhakuria, Teli Para, Kolkata, West Bengal 700031

Areas served: Gariahat and nearby areas

Hours: Open ⋅ Closes 10 pm

Phone: [phone]

ATS Puppy Store – OrangeWolf Kennel ® | KCI Registered Breeder | ISO Certified Pet Shop In Kolkata — Your Pet, Our Priority .” No. 1 Choice For City’s Dog Lovers ” :: Best Quality Puppies Of All Breed At Best Price :: Our Focus Has Been To Provide Fine Quality Companions And Pets At Affordable Prices, With Our Breeding Emphasis Being On Conformation, Intelligence, Disposition And Soundness. — Quality Prevails & No Compromise In Breeding. *** Puppies Can Be Delivered Anywhere In India and Abroad !!! Our Services :- • Puppies Provider • Pet Store & Pet Supply Store • Accommodations & Day Care • Immunization & Wellness Care • Pharmacy & Veterinary Needs • Dog Grooming, Handling & Maintenance • Mating & Breeding Services

10- Zoo-O-Pet Shop & Pet Creche – Pet Clinic, Grooming Services in Kolkata

Pet store in Kolkata, West Bengal

Address: 35B, Canal W Rd, Fariapukur, Shyam Bazar, Kolkata, West Bengal 700004

Areas served: India

Hours: Open 24 hours

Phone: [phone]

Zoo-O-Pet Shop & Pet Creche – Zoo-O-Pet came into existence in 2010 and has,since then,been a known name in its field. Zoo-O-Pet Shop have a large range of brands and products to choose from.We carry all the products you need to care for your pet,from food and treats to toys and more! Our commitment is to provide our customers and their pets everything they need for a happy life together. Zoo-O-Pet Creche offer the best accommodation for pets.While you’re away you can relax in the knowledge that your pet is being well cared for and they’re enjoying a holiday of their own.Our creche sevice includes walking,cuddling,playing,basic grooming, administering medications if needed. From pet store & clinic to creche & grooming-we’ll provide everything your pet needs.

READ MORE....Best Deals online | Pet products, Clothing, health care products

#Top 10 Pet Shops in Kolkata #Best Deals online

[wwpia]

Well if this isn’t the quickest character ref I ever dun shat out. I want to do a better one including the werewolf form buuuut…. I got bitten by a cat and it fucking hurts. No drawing. Boo.

Commence long af Character info dump, quite a long spiel because he is one of the two primary characters.

NAME: Faustus Chandran

AGE: 33

GENDER: Trans man

RACE: Werewolf - technically now a chimera Werewolf/Dragonborn because of unauthorised monoclonal antibody therapy. He doesn’t really have any ‘benefits’ to this previous therapy, other than maybe being a bit more heat proof than the average person. He actually has much worse sense hearing and smell than the average werewolf… but it’s still a whole lot better than a human’s.

He isn’t able to change during a full moon - he used to have a ‘normal’ werewolf form before the therapy which highly resembled a black German shepherd puppy, all floppy ears, gangly limbs and big paws. He was considered to be quite runty though.

His post-therapy ‘werewolf’ form is quite simply just a complete behemoth - about 40 feet in length, 15 feet high and a mouth gape of about 7 foot. So cute. Like a fluffy T-Rex.

HEIGHT: 5’6”

COUNTRY OF ORIGIN: United Kingdom, Yorkshire. (Mother also born in Yorkshire, grandmother born in South India.)

ACCENT: Yorkshire accent, he’ll slow down if someone isn’t able to understand his - at times, extremely fast speaking rate. In all seriousness, his gob outruns his brain. Knows how to speak Hindu fairly well but not quite fluently.

OCCUPATION: World Wide Paranormal Intelligence Agent - junior/mid level. He has only been working at the WWPIA for about 3 years (UK branch). No formal education beyond high school/college. Had a lot of various jobs since the age of 16, mostly muscle for hire, bouncer, etc. The only odd job was when he got a job in a bakery and absolutely loved it. He got fired because a customer lied about finding ‘werewolf hair’ in the buns.

FAVOURITE FOOD: He honestly will eat just about anything and probably enjoy it. He has an obscenely voracious appetite at all times, and can get really, really, REALLY hangry. Like a lot of werewolves - meat is probably at the top on preference but he doesn’t go insane over it or something. Much like humans he ponders/wonders the ethical implications or eating meat. Unfortunately like a lot of humans, going veggie just isn’t economically viable for him… especially with his weirdly fast metabolism. He isn’t that confident in cooking and tends to grab anything when hunger strikes.

FAVOURITE MUSIC: Hard rock, AC/DC, the Darkness, Guns N Roses.

FAVOURITE MEMORY: Running around woods/Yorkshire dales. Building treehouses, playing hide and seek. Just being generally a carefree child.

BIGGEST SECRET: See werewolf form, if it could be called that anymore. Deep down he kind of blames himself for what he considers a true ‘monster’ of an alternate form. That he somehow deserves not being able to join other werewolves on a full moon. It sounds not that big of a ‘big deal’ but for werewolves its absolutely a huge detriment. Werewolves actually extremely in tune with nature, the moon cycles - the full moon phase is like a renewal of the soul. A time of true freedom. The closest he really gets to that is being with his family, and even then he has to be a bit careful because… well wolves be wolves.

BIGGEST FEAR: Needles, doctors, being strapped down, solitary confinement. Getting ‘stuck’ in his monstrous form.

SCARS/TATTOOS/OTHER PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES: Most prominently thick white bands around his wrists, ankles and neck. Unlike most scars they’re pretty perfectly even without much if any jagged edges. That’s because they’re from silver restraints during his antibody therapy. The long term exposure and stress at that time means they will never truly ‘heal’.

He always wears some form of neck/wrist covering, usually spiked collars.

He has various other faint, normal scars all over his body that mostly healed or healing. Same with top surgery scars, of which he actually is proud of. TIDDIES BE GONE.

STRENGTHS: Excellent sense of humour, generally level headed, honest to a fault. Generally sweet natured and positive. A very gud boi.

WEAKNESSES: Motor mouth, gets bored extremely quickly. Not ‘dumb’ but regally not hugely academically minded. Acts before he thinks… way way too much. Can be very petulant sometimes. Don’t ever ‘dare’ him to do something because he will totally do it.

FAMILY RELATIONSHIP: Father deceased. Mother is an absolute angel and is such an Indian mum.

Faustus is actually the second oldest child out of SIX. (Yep, six!)

His older brother is kind of a judgemental prick and he clashed a lot with Faustus - they don’t really speak to each other now.

His younger brother is an avid scientist and does a lot of oversees research, Faustus loves him a lot but.. doesn’t really get him sometimes. He’ll just nod and act fascinated when the brother rants about… quantum entanglement, quarks and bosons.

Next are his twin sisters who are satan incarnate, kind of the youngest child without actually being the youngest child. Mother dotes on them and they get away with everything. They run a mystery/oddity gallery and swindle absolutely everyone. Especially their siblings.

Youngest is just about 18 and just the embodiment of a golden retriever puppy. He is possibly the sweetest werewolf to roam the planet. He actually is part of a very effective search and rescue team designed to aid those lost on the Yorkshire dales and moors, His sense of smell of hearing are unrivalled. Looking forward to potentially going to university in France. He also would often stay with Faustus on a full moon as opposed to running off in the dales, thereby giving Faustus a lot of comfort. These two have an extremely close bond.

SEXUALITY: Pansexual.

KINKS(ooh la la!): Genuine praise.

#Faustus things #oc character #nanowrimo 2023 #character intro #monsters #fantasy monsters #Nanowrimo #writing #modern fantasy #lgbtqia+ #paranormal #supernatural #fiction