#but she knows and almost expects frey to be really upset and she is but it is so much more than that

[mistress-light]

Forspoken • I never thought I'd see you again...

[artificialqueens]

Hyacinth (Shalaska) - Freyja

A/N: hello!!!!!!!! remember when I said I wasn’t ready to let wild flower go? Yeah. This is that. You can read this without much confusion if you haven’t read WF, especially if you’re like me and just want fun times with jealousy, but there’s a few spoilers in here, just fyi. I have at least one other spin off in the works - stay posted for more. I also want to thank @aqcitrus for writing the actual, you know, smut scene in here. They’re a real one and also a complete talent. Thank you to Frey for betaing on her first day off 💖 

I hope y'all enjoy!!

Summary: Sharon won’t stop flirting with Willam. Alaska can’t quite keep her jealousy under control. Sharon thinks this is very amusing - and, just a little bit hot. Fluff & smut. 4k.

🌸

Alaska adores their family dinners.

It’s something that had started the week they got Sharon back, when everyone had functioned as a single unit with Sharon as the very annoyed, very grumpy epicenter. They’d actually been eating dinner together for the first time, instead of everyone grabbing something from the stewpot throughout the night, and they’d had so much fun laughing and talking, that the behavior had stuck even after Sharon’s burns were long healed.

The dinners make Alaska feel warm, happy - with everyone gathered around and laughing at jokes that she makes, or listening to ideas she suggests, they soothe her still persistent urge to belong. She loves the proud, pleased gleam in Sharon’s eyes that appears whenever they first sit down together, loves to cuddle her by the fire and listen to Alyssa’s rambling with her eyes half-shut.

Alaska adores their family dinners. She just doesn’t love the ones where Sharon and Willam sit next to each other.

She’s made the mistake of sitting with Detox tonight, in the hopes of continuing their conversation about the dresses they’d seen in town earlier. Even as Detox discusses it, though, Alaska finds her attention drifting towards Sharon and Willam more often than not, Detox’s voice fading almost entirely into the background.

They’re not doing much, just giggling together like a pair of idiots, but Alaska hasn’t quite been able to brush away the jealous possessiveness that springs up whenever Sharon does so much as smile too softly at the other woman, Willam’s wistful retelling of their affair wedged in her mind like a bullet stuck between her ribs.

“I’m no one’s bitch, Willam,” Sharon is saying, laughter in her voice. “You can get your own bowl. Second bowl, I should say.”

“That was mean,” Willam says, surprised, lips quirked into a half smile. Alaska resents the way her eyes never leave Sharon’s. “For that, you have to get me some.”

“Nice try.”

“What if I told you I’d owe you one?”

Sharon’s smirk curls in the way that means she’s terribly amused, and Alaska’s agitation makes her tap her toes a little. She tells herself she’s being ridiculous, and she tries to turn her attention back to Detox, more than willing to distract herself from Willam’s coy smile and Sharon’s glittering eyes.

She falls back into Detox’s rant about bustles with only a little difficulty, making sure her eyes are on Detox’s expressive gestures rather than Willam’s subtle ones. Off of the way Willam had touched Sharon’s arm with that expression on her face–

Again: she’s being ridiculous.

She manages to listen to Detox for around two minutes before Willam’s voice grabs her attention again, a little louder, now that Sharon’s making her way towards the pot of stew. Evidently, she’s given into Willam’s pleas. Alaska has to push down the jealousy that immediately starts bubbling at the idea.

“Hate to see you leave,” Willam says, her crooked smile firmly in place as she watches Sharon bend over the stew, “love to watch you go.”

“Miss this ass, Willam?” Sharon calls back, filling Willam’s bowl without so much as a glance behind her. Alaska’s heart does a little jab in her chest.

“Every goddamn day,” Willam says. “Miss mine?”

“You wish.”

Alaska doesn’t think her blood pressure has ever been this high, up to and including when she’d shot Solomon in the span of less than a second.

“Shar,” Alaska calls, and miraculously, her voice doesn’t shake. She can only wish that shooting someone would solve her problems right now. “Ready for bed?”

“I don’t know,” Sharon says, and she straightens up, turning back to look at Willam. She raises an eyebrow. “Is Willam?”

“Only if you’re in it,” Willam says, and Alaska suddenly stands, possessive anger making her a little jumpy. Irritation flashes hot in her chest at Willam’s cocky smirk, and she starts speaking before she can really think about what’s coming out of her mouth.

“She’s not going to be,” she snaps. “Sorry, you’re out of luck.”

Willam raises her eyebrows at her, smile falling, her mouth parted with surprise. Alaska bristles as Sharon speaks from behind her, her voice soft with confusion.

“Lasky, what–”

“Forget it,” Alaska says sharply, a little embarrassed by her outburst, but too angry to do anything other than run away. “I’m going to bed.” And with that, she starts towards their tent without a glance behind her, eager to get away from Willam and her flirting and her stupid affair with Sharon.

She looks back only when she’s reached their tent, half expecting to see Sharon only a few paces behind her. She jolts a little when she turns to find nothing. Sharon is still by the campfire with the rest of the women, her lips twisted in thought. Alaska rolls her lips between her teeth as Sharon walks over to hand Willam her bowl, the two exchanging small shrugs and laughing slightly, Sharon’s brow drawn together in a sort of goofy confusion.

Alaska is on the edge of committing her second murder.

She rips the tent flap open with more force than necessary, and she ducks inside, jealous anger and hurt granting her the strength to kick her boots off so hard they go flying to the other side of the tent, hitting the canvas with sharp taps and making it waver with the impact.

She stands by the entrance in her stockings, glaring at the canvas, crossing her arms over her chest and resisting the urge to march down to the fire pit and drag Sharon back with her. She can only imagine what she and Willam are saying to one another, and it has her gritting her teeth.

It’s probably better that she wait for Sharon. Better than starting a fight in the middle of the fire pit.

She’ll be here soon, anyway - if she knows what’s good for her.

Alaska sits down in their mess of blankets, anger still itching under her skin, and she waits, picking at her nails to pass the time and watching the light outside turn from a warm orange to a grey blue to pale moonlight, listening to the distant laughter by the fire slowly trickling away. It’s only around half an hour, but Alaska can feel herself getting more upset with every minute, images of Willam and Sharon in various stages of intimacy flashing through her mind relentlessly.

Alaska lies down, glaring at the tent’s ceiling. She clenches her hands into fists, and she tries to tell herself that she’s being ridiculous. It doesn’t help. She’s just starting to wonder if she should go back to the fire pit to see what’s going on when she suddenly hears Sharon’s voice growing louder as she approaches the tent.

Alaska relaxes, letting out a breath of relief. Sharon is coming - Alaska can just-

“You can’t say you haven’t missed this.”

Willam.

Alaska immediately tenses again, irritated beyond belief and a little betrayed. What the hell is Sharon doing with Willam? Inviting her to fucking sleep with them?

Alaska would rather eat glass.

“I can say whatever I want,” Sharon says, and Alaska can hear the smirk in her voice. She clenches her fists harder.

“I used to be able to make you say anything if I tried hard enough,” Willam says, and Alaska’s breath gets caught in her chest. Judging by the brief silence on Sharon’s end, she’s not the only one. The idea that Willam is able to take Sharon off guard has her sitting up, her anger once again making her restless with the lack of an outlet.

“You certainly had your job with Raja for a reason,” Sharon eventually says, and that smirk is still coloring her words. Alaska huffs, disbelieving. What the fuck.

She listens as they come up in front of the tent and stop, the smell of cigarettes wafting in as Sharon stomps hers out. “True,” Willam says. “You sure you don’t wanna invite me in?”

Alaska bites back her own immediate ‘yes’, crossing her arms over her chest for lack of anything to do, her fingernails digging into her palms as she continues to squeeze her fists.

“I’m pretty sure,” Sharon sighs, and Willam laughs, the sound of it grating on Alaska’s ears. God, if she would just shut up–

“Your loss,” Willam says, cheeky, and Sharon snorts.

“I’ll cry into my pillow,” she says drily. “Night, Wills.”

“Night, Shar,” Willam says, and Alaska rolls her eyes at the nicknames, jealousy threatening to burst out of her at any moment, an absurd possessiveness curling itself around ‘Shar’. That’s Alaska’s - Willam can stick to “Shaz” or whatever else comes out of Jinkx’s mouth.

Alaska makes sure she’s standing when Sharon ducks into the tent, the crisp night air and cigarette smoke coming in with her. Alaska wants to melt at the familiar smell, wants to lie down and curl herself around Sharon like she would normally, but Willam’s ‘you can’t say you haven’t missed this’ has her anger snapping back quickly.

“Took you long enough,” Alaska says, crossing her arms again, and Sharon blinks at her tone.

“Jesus,” she says, tugging her gloves off as she gives Alaska a strange look. “Were you waiting for me?”

“Obviously,” Alaska says, and Sharon frowns.

“What’s with this attitude?” she asks, taking her hat off and tossing it onto one of the crates. “Did I do something?”

“Did you do something,” Alaska repeats, her voice flat with incredulity. “Yeah, you fucking did something.”

Sharon’s eyes widen, and she takes a step forward, looking concerned. Guilt can already be seen in the set of her mouth, and Alaska thinks she has to know that what she was doing with Willam was wrong.

“What did I do?”

“Please,” Alaska snorts derisively.

Sharon makes a frustrated sound. “Alaska, I can’t fix it if I don’t even know what you’re angry about.”

Irritation pops in Alaska’s chest sharply. “What do you think I’m angry about, Sharon?” she snaps. “Think about it!”

Sharon’s gaze drifts off to the side as she thinks, her brow still furrowed in confusion. “Was it something Willam s– oh.” Sharon cuts herself off with a sudden huff of realization, and Alaska waits for her to fall to her knees, begging for her forgiveness.

Instead, Sharon looks at her like she’s trying to hold back a smile. “Did you get jealous, Lasky?”

Alaska feels a blush rush to her face before she can even try to stop it, bristling. “She was flirting with you, Sharon. And you were flirting back.”

Sharon shrugs, trying and failing to keep the corners of her mouth from curving up. “We do it all the time, Lask,” she says. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Then stop doing it,” Alaska shoots back. “You’re mine.”

Sharon’s eyebrows raise, and her smile turns into a smirk, a new expression flickering across her face too quickly for Alaska to read. “Oh, am I?” she asks, and possessiveness flares up in Alaska’s chest.

“Of course you are,” she snaps. “Obviously.”

“Is it really so obvious, though?” Sharon asks, rolling her eyes up like she’s thinking. Questioning. She even taps her chin for good measure. “I don’t know, doll.”

On some level, Alaska knows she’s being teased. This doesn’t stop her anger from sparking in her stomach, and she takes a step forward, arching an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” she asks, and Sharon shakes her head.

“I’m just not sure,” she says. “I think you might just have to show me.”

Oh.

Realization clicks in Alaska’s mind, and it doesn’t take long for her to warm to the game, the urge to do something about the jealousy licking at her heart nearly overwhelming. “Fine,” she says, and she takes another step forwards, so that Sharon is pinned against one of the tent posts.

The smirk on Sharon’s face is infuriating, and Alaska is determined to wipe it away. She closes the gap between them and kisses Sharon roughly, teeth pulling at her bottom lip until she lets out a little whine. Alaska kisses down her face, nipping at her jaw and pushing Sharon’s hair away from her neck so she can suck at the pale skin hard enough to leave a dark, angry mark. Sharon is short of breath already, and Alaska makes another mark, pulling back to admire her work.

Willam won’t be able to ignore them - they’re red now, but Alaska knows they’ll turn purple and stand out against Sharon’s complexion. Everyone else in the camp will know who made them, and the thought makes her smile to herself.

“That all you got, doll?” Sharon teases, but it’s a little more breathless than before. Alaska kisses her again, breathing in the smell of cigarettes on Sharon’s skin, and takes the liberty of unbuttoning Sharon’s shirt until it’s hanging open. She slides a hand up Sharon’s warm sternum, then moves sideways to grasp her breast and squeeze it lightly, thumb circling over her nipple.

Sharon moans, trying in vain to flip their positions, but Alaska grabs her wrists just in time.

“I don���t think so,” she murmurs, pulling Sharon down and away from the tent post. She overshoots it a little, and the two of them end up falling on top of the mess of blankets on the ground, Sharon’s wrists still stuck in Alaska’s grasp. Alaska hesitates, unfamiliar with being on top, and Sharon locks eyes with her.

“C’mon, baby,” she breathes, her voice a little more high-pitched than it usually is, “I thought you wanted to show me who I belong to?”

It’s enough to spur Alaska into pinning Sharon’s hands over her head, her free hand tracing down Sharon’s naked chest. Her shirt has fallen open completely, her torso bared for Alaska and Alaska alone. She ducks her head down to swirl her tongue over Sharon’s nipple and hears a soft gasp that motivates her to continue.

When she’s sure that Sharon won’t move her hands from above her head, she lets her wrists go and uses her newly freed hand to unbuckle Sharon’s thick leather belt. The button of her trousers is next, and then Sharon is lifting her hips so that Alaska can slide them down her legs and toss them in the direction of her bedroll.

Sharon is wet, wet enough that there’s a small patch on her underwear that’s darker than the rest. She spreads her legs shamelessly, and Alaska admires her for a moment. She feels a flicker of pride at the sight, knowing that she’s the one who made Sharon this wet. Not Willam, not anyone else - just Alaska.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispers, and the hint of a blush appears on Sharon’s cheeks. Her fingers press against the wet spot on Sharon’s underwear and she caresses it lightly, making her hips buck up in frustration. Alaska feels no shame in drawing it out for Sharon, feeling just the slightest bit vengeful as she teases her lover for longer than is probably necessary.

“Just - touch me–” Sharon chokes out desperately, squirming beneath Alaska. She’s never acted like this before, never let Alaska completely take the lead and drive her crazy the way she drives Alaska crazy most nights. There’s something beautifully intimate in her submission, and Alaska’s heart swells.

She takes mercy on Sharon and draws her soaking underwear down her legs, settling between her thighs. Sharon’s fingers immediately tangle in her hair, pushing her forward, and Alaska bites back a smile at how needy the motion is. Alaska closes the distance, licking her slowly, and Sharon gasps.

“‘Laska….” The soft moan of her name awakens something in Alaska, and she licks Sharon again before speaking, her own arousal making her voice a little breathless.

“Louder.”

Sharon shudders, and there’s a flash of recognition on her face as she realizes Alaska’s aim. Alaska remains motionless between Sharon’s legs, waiting for an answer. If Sharon wants fulfillment, she has to do what Alaska wants.

“A- Alaska,” she moans, louder this time. Alaska rewards it, tongue working against her, slow and teasing, and Sharon’s fingers tighten in her hair. Sharon whimpers as Alaska changes the pace at random, never quite keeping one tempo for too long. It’s a far cry from the first time she was between Sharon’s legs - now she knows exactly what Sharon likes and what will drive her to the edge. The thought has satisfaction blossoming in her stomach, adding to the heat of everything.

Her arms wrap around Sharon’s strong thighs, pulling her closer as her tongue laps at her wetness, and Sharon’s back arches like a strung bow. She’s close, hips stuttering against Alaska’s mouth, and Alaska smirks as she pulls away. Sharon lets out a broken whine.

“Louder,” Alaska says again. She’s breathing heavily. “Let her hear you.”

It’s clear from the look on Sharon’s face that it’s the last thing she wants to do, and Alaska can’t blame her - Willam will, no doubt, tease her mercilessly for it. Alaska also can’t quite bring herself to care. She flutters her tongue over Sharon’s clitoris for a brief moment, and Sharon’s moan goes up a pitch.

“Alaska…” Her breath catches in the back of her throat. Alaska knows she’s close. “Alaska…” Alaska redoubles her efforts, showering Sharon with affection and pleasure. Sharon’s thighs close around Alaska’s head, trapping her exactly where she wants to be.

“Let her hear you, baby,” Alaska repeats, the words muffled against Sharon’s thigh. “You’re mine.”

“Alaska!”

It’s a long, desperate cry, and Alaska wouldn’t be surprised if it echoes across the entire camp, Sharon convulsing with pleasure. Alaska licks her gently through her release, grinning when the vice of Sharon’s thighs finally releases her with a little twitch. She pulls herself up to kiss her, fingertips dancing over her bare skin, and Sharon greets her eagerly. It’s sweeter than their previous kisses, Sharon completely spent and Alaska too smug to be anything other than happy, and Alaska collapses next to her when they part, still grinning from ear to ear.

Sharon laughs softly, flushed and sweaty. “I almost didn’t think you had it in you,” she says, teasing, and Alaska gives a gentle swat to her shoulder.

“I’ve got a lot in me that you don’t know about,” she tells her, and Sharon chokes on a laugh.

“Yeah?”

Alaska frowns. “What– oh my god! I hate you!” A laugh bursts out of her without her permission, warmth creeping across her cheeks as she swats at Sharon again.

“I would hope not,” Sharon says, a goofy smile on her face as she shifts a little closer. “That would give five minutes ago a whole new context.”

Alaska’s stomach dips. “Was I too rough?” she asks worriedly, looking into Sharon’s eyes for any sign of upset. “Was I–”

“No,” Sharon interrupts, laughing a little. “No, doll, you were perfect. Maybe a little cruel at the end there, but I might have been asking for it.”

“‘Might have’?” Alaska repeats. She sits up to look at Sharon properly, raising an eyebrow. “Do the words ‘show me’ ring a bell for you?”

Sharon flattens her lips into a thin line, biting back what Alaska knows is a shit-eating grin. “Possibly,” she says, and Alaska rolls her eyes.

“You literally asked for it,” she says.

“Fine,” Sharon relents. “I asked for it. It was worth it, though.”

“I’m glad you had so much fun,” Alaska says drily.

“Me too,” Sharon says, smug.

“I hate you,” Alaska says, but she can’t quite keep a straight face. Sharon grins.

“Please, you love me.”

“That, too,” Alaska says. “Worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Sure.”

“I’m serious,” Alaska says, as seriously as she can manage, which is not very much. A cool breeze blows through the tent, coming in through the flap that Sharon hadn’t tied properly, and Alaska shivers. “Jesus, it’s cold.”

She lies back down, searching for a suitable blanket to pull over the both of them. Sharon laughs. “It’s not that bad, Lasky.”

“It is.”

“I’m the one lying in the nude, here.”

“You have a shirt on,” Alaska says teasingly, pausing in her search to poke Sharon in the stomach. Sharon slaps her hand away.

“Barely,” she snorts, motioning to how it’s completely fallen open. She then shimmies it off, tossing it in the vague direction of her coat with a pleased smirk. “There. Fully nude.”

“You’re an idiot,” Alaska tells her. She doesn’t hesitate to take Sharon in, however, transfixed by the expanse of pale skin before her. Sharon smirks.

“You don’t seem too upset,” she says, and she plucks at Alaska’s shirt. “This should come off.”

“So you want me to suffer too?” Alaska laughs, but she raises her hands to the buttons anyway. “I’m cold already!”

“That’s why we have body heat,” Sharon says, snuggling closer and making the process of taking her shirt off much harder. Alaska can’t quite bring herself to push her away, however. “And a lot of fucking blankets.”

Alaska hums in response, flinging her shirt at the set of drawers and starting on her pants, rolling them down towards her ankles and kicking them off. Sharon props herself up on her elbows as she watches, a sinful sort of smile curling its way across her face.

“Sex,” she adds, eyes raking over Alaska hungrily, “sex warms you up, too.”

Alaska laughs, but heat is beginning to pool in her belly, the sight of Sharon laid out next to her like some goddess a little too much to handle. She ignores it, however, in favor of her heavy eyelids, and she shakes her head, smiling at Sharon’s pout.

“It’s late,” she says, turning back to the blankets and willing the butterflies to stop fluttering around in her stomach. “And I think everyone’s going to have enough to talk about tomorrow.”

Sharon’s resulting groan makes her giggle, and when she turns to pull her chosen blanket over them, Sharon’s lying down again, her hands covering her face. “Definitely a good mood killer,” she says, her voice muffled, and Alaska laughs.

“Maybe you should think twice before you start mentioning Willam’s ass,” she says, and Sharon scoffs.

“Willam’s ass is hardly worth this,” she says, and Alaska yanks the blanket over them, lying down and snuggling into Sharon, perhaps a little more vigorously than she would have before Willam had been brought up. The twinge of jealousy is small, however, so she finds it easy to lapse into a comfortable silence, closing her eyes and just listening to Sharon’s steady breathing, relishing in the way their legs intertwine so perfectly.

They lie like that for a while, Alaska drifting further and further into sleep, contentment a comforting weight in her chest. She’s so far from the domestic life she’d been raised for, sleeping in a tent in the mountains with a woman wanted by all 48 states, but she doesn’t think she’s ever felt more at home. The strange domesticity she has with Sharon is special, and her heart swells at just the thought of it - this is hers. Theirs.

“You really don’t have anything to worry about,” Sharon whispers suddenly, sounding sleepy. “With Willam, I mean.”

Alaska lets out a breath, tracing vague patterns onto Sharon’s ribs. “I know. I think I know,” she amends, when Sharon makes a skeptical sound. “You just haven’t told me your side about you and Willam, and when she told hers, it just seemed like… well. I’m prone to jealousy.”

“I’ll tell you soon,” Sharon murmurs, burying her face into Alaska’s collarbone. “And I can’t say I’m complaining about the jealousy.”

“I can’t believe you would take advantage of me like that.”

“Well,” Sharon sighs. “That’s me. Deal with it.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not really.”

“You’re lucky I love you.”

She can feel Sharon’s smile against her skin, and the feeling making her toes curl.

“I love you too.”

[7deadlycinderellas]

If the summer of our lives could just come again, ch30

AO3 link

 Greywater Watch

Greywater Watch doesn’t really look much like a castle, either up close or from away. It rises out of the water, a mass of wood and bronze and iron rather than the more familiar stone. Rather than the defensive ramparts, the outer edges look like a series of stacked open balconies with hip height  barriers, the perfect setup for positioning archers and look outs on all sides.

Strangely enough, the impression Bran gets from seeing it is that of a ship on the sea. He’s seen it in visions, and been told of it countless times by Meera, but actually seeing it is different.

Off to the side, Jojen is telling Shireen,

“We lose mobility in the winter because so much freezes, but there’s more open water towards the sea that doesn’t, that’s where the fishermen try and go and drop nets, and everyone who can will row the crannogs to open water, or breaking back out in spring will be rough…”

They are met by Howland Reed, his wife, and a group of bannermen and servants that wouldn’t even fill a whole table in the Great Hall.

Lord Reed has more gray in his hair than the last time the Starks had seen him, and he walks with a heavier step. He still smiles and greets them warmly, though Sansa cannot imagine that even this keep can hold all of their party even for a short time.

When he shakes Sansa’s hand, he cuts to the chase.

“How many?”

“46.”

He nods at one of the other men.

“Split them into groups, then call Fenn to gather the canoes.”

Sansa helps split the group, giving Lord and Lady Reed some privacy to reunite with their children. She only overhears bits of their conversation, though she hears Meera mumble, “Because we’re idiots who don’t think things through.”

She turns her attention to the man helping her,

“Will there be enough room for everyone?”

He nods,

“We may not have much, my lady, but down here we take guest right seriously.”

Her insides turn over, thinking of what she’s heard of House Reed’s feud with House Frey.

Just when Sansa’s finished up with the other refugees, Jojen has stood from the table and comes to stand beside her.

“Why does no one ever tell me anything?” he mutters grouchily.

Sansa chuckles.

“With the visions, they’re probably used to assuming you already know everything before they can say a single word.”

Eventually, they all are seated and one of the servants brings out supper. The rest of the staff appear, they all fit at the one table. Most of them greet Jojen and Meera by name, and Sansa realizes neither of them have been home in years.

The chamber they are led to when the sun sets is small as well, divided by hanging sheets. When she stops by to say good night, Sansa catches Meera’s eye and asks,

“So when should we expect the wedding at swordspoint?”

Meera makes a face,

“There will be no swords, no one here's being forced...tomorrow. We agreed it was better sooner than later.”

Sansa’s heartstrings are pulled.

“You won’t be able to have your cloak made, or invite anyone-”

Meera shakes her head.

“I told Bran- he offered to do it that same day, before anyone could question. But all I wanted was my parents here, I was never a girl who dreamed of a big wedding. And with the dead rising, this is as nice as I could even hope for.”

She leaves, and Sansa rolls on her back and tries to sleep, thinking of expectations.

The next morning, a light breakfast is eaten and arrangements are made.

At one point Bran sighs deeply and whispers to Sansa,

“I really do wish everyone else could be here.”

“There’s a war on,” Sansa tells him grimly, and mirroring Meera's words from yesterday, “We all take what we can get.”

No one dresses up, and Meera looks like she wants to flee when Sansa offers to do her hair, but the proceedings are pleasant enough, no one even feels the need to crack jokes. In her thick furs, Meera’s not showing even a little, she’d changed out of them once they reached the keep, and in her wool tunic, Sansa can make out enough of a bump that makes her grateful for timing.

The heart tree at Greywater Watch is a weirwood, but only a sapling, brought from the Isle of Faces before the rebellion. Soon it will be too large to grow in the crannog, and will need to be carefully dug up and planted full in the ground. It will take nearly a dozen men to carry it, and Howland says it must be done as soon as the first spring thaw.

The little group still crowds the wood a bit, but they all fit. The ceremony might be rushed, but everyone’s smiling. And if Lord Reed ends the traditional words at the heart tree with “And no one tells Lady Catelyn” to the group's murmured agreement, they will all laugh about it years from now.

Sansa looks at Lord Reed askance,

“Why are you taking this so much in stride?”

He laughs.

“After last time I’ll take my children being happy no matter what form it comes. Besides, your father wrote me some moons back, he suspected this was how it was going to end for the two of them, and he approved if I did too.”

Of course he did, Sansa thought, Ned really knew them all that well. She spares at glance at Bran and Meera who are quietly walking a little apart from the others, holding hands.

There’s no feast obviously, but Lady Jyana speaks to one of the servants, and she brings out a pot of rich stew, made from a number of ingredients Sansa can’t recognize. When supper is waning, Bran finds a piece of paper and writes a letter before warging to find a raven to carry it.

He smiles sheepishly towards Sansa.

“Mother might be upset if she works out the timing, but she will definitely be if I don’t tell her about it right away.”

At some point, Lord Reed has left and returns to the table with a paper.

He returns and puts it on the table.

“I sent Ned a raven over a year ago. One of my men dug up a harp with these carved on it. He didn’t recognize them, but I thought I should show them to you just to be sure.”

Sansa looks at the markings on the paper, but can’t make heads or tails out of any of it, but she still passes it down the table.

When it reaches Jojen, he freezes, and all eyes turn to him. He pushes the piece of paper at Shireen.

“You were reading that same book…”

Shireen furrows her eyebrows, before standing suddenly and going to fetch something from her bag.

Jojen eyes her when she returns holding the book.

“That was from the library at Winterfell-”

“I didn’t steal it! Maester Luwin was spending all his time preparing the Great Hall or I would have asked!”

Shireen’s voice has gone squeaky, so Sansa cuts her off.

“I’ll bring it back with me when we return, it’s not a problem Shireen, you take good care of things.”

Shireen flushes a bit before, before flipping open the book and running her finger along the lines on the paper.

“These look like runes-”

Howland nods,

“I’ll go and get the harp.”

When he returns, Shireen is flipping roughly through pages and looking back and forth between them and the paper.

“Here-” she says, eventually pointing at one. “This one means ‘dawn’, that’s why it sort of looks like the one from House Royce which means ‘moon’.

She purses her lips and keeps muttering as she continues reading.

The rest of the table leaves one by one, even Sansa retires for the night. By the time Shireen slams her fist on the table, finally finding what it is she’s looking for, only Jojen remains, dozing off.

“I think I’ve got it.”

“Whassitsay?” Jojen mumbles.

Shireen runs her finger along the runes carved into the wooden harp.

“To call down the dawn.”

Jojen blinks, brain registering her words. He leans over her to look at them too.

“Can you play the harp?”

Shireen bites her lip.

“Only a little bit. I think Sansa can though.”

She hopes.

 Winterfell

The battle does not go like they planned.

Before the Night King’s forces had piled upon Winterfell all at once, one after another. It had been an onslaught.

The time, it seemed almost like a slow siege. The dead do not rush the keep all at once, rather they stumble and push through the trenches a few at a time, piling atop the corpses to bypass what they can, their undead steeds lumbering.

They get close enough to shoot, they shoot, and they fall. But they keep coming.

Arya shoots arrows until her arm goes stiff and her shoulder numb, well into the darkness of the winter night. At some point, on the first night,  one of the girl squires pulls her down and tells her to sleep. When she wakes, she retakes her spot and resumes firing. After the first night, Gendry or Brienne sometimes, will make rounds reminding everyone to rest. Arya resists the urge to let him drag her down with the others. She’ll rest where she fights.

These glimpses are all she’s seen of him. She hasn’t seen any of the others since the first wight appeared.

Only a few arrows from the Others have made their way over the edge. Beside Arya, Ygritte took one to her bow arm, screeching in pain when the bit of ice punctured above her elbow. But after a minutes wimpering, she had pulled it out, bandaged it roughly, picked up her bow and kept going.

The walls have not been breached. On the ground, the others are falling, but they keep on coming, and within Winterfell, the fighters continue to tire.

All throughout the keep, squires keep it running. “Squires” being the youngest fighters, including Rickon, who fetch arrows and run rations, the bits of meat and grain that can still be prepared. They switch out for fighters, so that they may rest, they carry bandages and other supplies, empty buckets, and carry messages.

The days have piled on. It’s been more than a fortnight.

At the hunter’s gate, Brienne finds it strange how easily some of them have adjusted. She has heard stories from men who have been through sieges. She knew men who had survived the siege of Storm’s End, and that had gone on more than a year. She remembers the look on their faces as they spoke of the impending starvation, that would have come for them if Ser Davos’s ship had not broken the barricade to smuggle in goods. She holds up best she can, though she still finds herself questioning the reality of the situation, of the rising dead. She wonders if Winterfell can stand.

Leading the men guarding the north gate, Ned finds he can barely sleep at all, and simply forces himself to nod off in the saddle instead of retiring. Robb and his other men urge him to stop, to rest properly, but he finds himself unwilling to leave his men.

He’s never known a fight like this. Slow and steady and without any sort of strategy to outsmart. Just a pure, unadulterated, onslaught of an enemy that did not slow or tire, or feel pain. Normally, a siege could be held off just because both sides needed to eat and sleep. And the others-

The Others, the creatures are just as they were from Old Nan’s stories. Ice of skin, blue of eye, carrying weapons of ice atop their undead mounts. Ned would be terrified if he stopped to think.

He’s not sure how many days have gone by, when there’s a yell from a guard that some of them have managed to breach the east gate.

His heart pounding in his ears, Ned turns and orders several men to ride and hold the gate.

It’s not the bars that have been broken through, but one of the low parapets has been climbed by a pile of dead men. The archer who had been guarding it had taken an arrow of ice to the neck. The corpse still lay on the inside of the wall where he had fallen, where a squire was running for a torch to burn it as quickly as possible.

Ned calls out to one of the lookouts.

“How many outside the gate?”

The voice calls back,

“Only a few more!”

Ned nods to one of his men.

“Let a few of us through, close it behind us, don’t open it again until I say.”

He then summons a man with a torch and one of the precious pots of oil. He doesn’t want to call for Rowan unless he has too, even though her powers have helped clear so many of the fallen outside the walls.

Robb is at his side when they exit Winterfell for the first time in weeks. The snow is solid white, the closest thing to light that doesn’t come from the torches or the line of fire. That might end up a problem, the darkness of the sky ruining visibility and impairing the archers, Ned muses.

Outside the walls it’s eerily quiet. Robb lunges forward at the first wight he sees at the wall, skewering it with Longclaw. Watching it collapse and cease movement is satisfying, but there are still so many more.

The pile has just been toppled, and set fire to, when Ned feels a sharp pain in his shoulder. Robb yells, and Ned twists, throwing the Other from his steed. The spear of ice breaks, and he can move more easily, yelling for the others to regroup and get back inside.

They do, and inside, the wights who have made it over are being burned.

Ned is consumed by the image of Winterfell burning. The snow will only do so much. He is then consumed by the pain in his back and chest. He slumps forward and nearly slides from his horse as his vision threatens to go black.

The only thing he is aware of is someone taller than him gripping the arm on his uninjured side, throwing it over their shoulder and pulling him along the ground.

“Hang in there, Lord Stark,” a voice, that Ned only dimly realizes is Gendry, “I’ll get you to Maester Luwin.”

The preparation of the Great Hall had been the last great task. Maester Luwin had said it was the only area that could be both cleared out enough to make room for the injured and properly fortified.

Gendry had been making rounds each day to each post, hammer in hand. It wasn’t too much use in a fight against a wight, but it would be grand for clearing a path among them. Each day, he has dragged from the posts, the injured, the ill, and those who refuse to rest at their posts.

That’s most of the fighters Gendry has brought Maester Luwin in the past weeks, men who are so exhausted they can barely stand.

Ned barely has time to object before the elderly man guides him by hand to a straw mat on the floor, and holds a cup to his lips saying “drink”.

The world goes fuzzy after that.

When Ned wakes, he wakes to the sound of groaning, that he dimly realizes is his own voice. Maester Luwin is soon by his side, with a cup of water.

“I got the broken bit of the weapon out,” he starts, his voice strange, “Oddest thing I’ve ever seen, it was like it crumbled in my hands. I patched up the wound best I could, and you should be moving around in a few days.”

Ned sighs, the movement making the wound burn.

“Everything will still be going here in a few days won’t it?”

Luwin nods gravely, his elderly face somehow still looking more battle worn.

“I’ve had a few pass away, but not from wounds. A couple from fevers, and the others from dehydration. It may not be the dead who truly break the walls down.”

Ned sees that he will not speak of the ones who have died outside this hall, who had to be burned immediately.

How long, Ned wonders, how long could this go on? It’s been weeks, could it stretch into whole turns of the moon? Multiple even? He glances around at the soldiers of the north, whatever they had been before, laying around him, bruised and battered, or merely exhausted. He wonders if he will even recognize his home afterwards.

All Ned can do now is trust in his men, and rest.

Gendry continues to make his rounds, passing messages and order as needed as well. He ends each round in the Godswood.

Jon’s face is streaked with sweat, fresh and dried both. He passes messages constantly, trying to provide whatever reconnaissance the weirwoods can. He sees surges in numbers, he sees what direction they come from, he sees when the wolves tire. He wishes the sky would clear up, even a little bit. A few hundred yards of visibility would do wonders.

He saw the other day that one of the wolves had begun to eat one of the dead, and has no idea what will come of that.

This time, he’s speaking to the tree, trying to see the whole picture.

“Will they get past us?” he asks, before the image appears in his head, as though an illustration on a map. The dead pile up along the northern line, but though thousands are seeming to fall, a few begin to push the line, to stretch it, to sneak past the keeps and flee further south.

In a moment of desperation, Jon pleas. He hopes that the trees understand.

“Help us,” he pleas with them, “Help slow them down.”

He feels the shape of a tree stretching, standing tall, proud, and feels a sensation of assent.

And then Jon snaps back to Winterfell, just as the ground begins to shake.

An image enters Jon’s head. The image of the roots of the weirwood far north, how far they reached, even in a dead tree watched over by an illusion.

And then the image changes, it’s of those same roots, reaching, stretching. Digging, twisting, breaking through the earth and rock like a knife through butter.

Jon is grateful he is sitting down. Beside him, even Rowan looks alarmed. Once the shaking ceases, she stumbles to her feet.

“We should make the rounds of the castle,” she starts. Rowan has left the Godswood a number of times, providing fire to those fighting, but every time fearing that she might be crushed under the press of falling bodies “Whatever it was that the trees did for us might change the landscape of the fight, and the walk will keep our blood from thickening.”

Jon follows her, eager to see the others again.

No one in the keep notices the figure flying south, rapidly, in the sky.

 Riverrun

Stepping into the Riverlands had been like stepping back in time, to Catelyn’s childhood. Splitting from Davos had been hard enough, the older man having clasped her hands like her own father would have, and reminded her to find peace.

Seeing her brother and uncle again, was like stepping back in time.

Seeing her father again, so frail and ill, did nothing to make her feel any more grown.

But even in the Riverlands milder winter, where the snow could almost seem beautiful, Catelyn could not forget the knowledge of what she was leaving behind. The other refugees and household members of Winterfell who have accompanied her speak only in whispers, both of disbelief, and fear that speaking too loudly will bring down the dead upon the south. Many of them may not ever been the same.

Much of her days, she sits with her father, who is drifting in and out of lucidity, as hard as it is to watch. Sometimes he talks as though the Rebellion never happened, and Catelyn only occasionally wishes she could join him.

She does her best to help Edmure, who is oscillating between proud and terrified about the rule of Riverrrun soon being his. He still expresses no interest in marrying anyone in particular. She will have to remind him the importance of having a Lady to rule with.

One morning, she receives a raven. It’s one of many that come to the keep, but the only one addressed to her in particular.

She smiles sadly upon reading it.

“It seems another of my children has been wed,” she tells Edmure, her voice soft.

Her brother raises an eyebrow,

“How many are left? Just one.”

“Two,” she says, thinking that maybe she should add Edmure to that list.

She tells the story to her father later, when she’s sitting with him. He’s pleased to hear, but from his response, she wonders if he thinks she’s talking about Lysa.

Lysa is still a sore point, one that Catelyn avoids.

Ravens keep flying after that. Brynden brings up repeatedly, the sightings that the smallfolk have had of a dragon flying north. Catelyn supports his position that it shouldn’t be ignored, but she doesn’t have a good handle on  what would be safe, or wise, to tell them.

Then the letter addressing them directly comes.

Catelyn pours over it the same as the other Tullys. None of her children spoke extensively of this Daenerys Targaryen, mother of dragons. She doesn’t think they were very sure of themselves on the subject.

But she speaks of the same abominations rampaging through the north. That, she recognizes the fear of, from the shadows in her children’s eyes.

One night over supper, Brynden catches her eye.

“Do you believe any of this?”

Catelyn meets his eye, and nods.

“I cannot tell true why I do, not sure you would believe me if I did, but in my heart, I feel following this Dragon Queen’s plea is the right thing for the realm.”

Brynden nods.

“You should stay here with Edmure and your father. They will need someone to guide them.

Family, duty, honor, after all.

Brynden leaves Riverrun, and Catelyn feels even more alone.

The weeks turn into months. Hoster Tully gets weaker and weaker.

The night that her father passes away, Catelyn has a dream.

It’s not that she never dreams, but they are rarely this vivid. In it, she sees Robb die in front of her, and ghost images of her other children drifting farther and farther away. She calls out to them, but her throat has been cut. Her voice cannot escape.

She wakes up in a cold sweat.

[brittababbles]

Tenderness

Robb Stark x Reader

Author’s note: this is a kind of prequel to Ruins. This looks like it’s trying to become a kind of illogically ordered series. Also the original song was in Hebrew, so I provided the translation Eric Whitacre provided for the song. I trust him, since his wife wrote the lyrics. So, credit there. Also the typical “I don’t own Robb” thing because copyright. Enjoy!

Warnings: A fade-to-black sex scene, but otherwise this is pretty fluffy. 

Hu hayá malé rakút

Hi haytá kashá

Vechól káma shenistá lehishaér kach,

Pashút, uvlí sibá tová,

Lakach otá el toch atzmó,

Veheníach

Bamakóm hachí, hachí rach.

 He was full of tenderness;

She was very hard.

And as much as she tried to stay thus,

Simply, and with no good reason,

He took her into himself,

And set her down

In the softest, softest place.

 The tent city was bustling. That was always your cue that the army had returned.

You bit your bottom lip as you hurried across the camp, past the prisoners’ cages and the war council tent, heading for the King’s tent. The entirety of his absence, you had fretted that he’d commanded you to sit the battle out. Perhaps it was the fact that you, you who weren’t beholden to his commands whatsoever, had actually obeyed this command that upset you. Yet, the moment you’d heard hoof beats and stood to see the Stark standard flying above the approaching cavalry, the only thing you could think of was being by his side again.

You hadn’t stopped to ask what had occurred on the battlefield. Victory was obvious from the number of soldiers who returned, and the gleeful shouting that accompanied them. But though details hadn’t come through to you yet, you knew the result would be the same.

Robb hated battles. It was an odd trait, even by the generally pacifist principles your upbringing had taught you, for a king and a soldier. You’d seen him fight; you had fought beside him on exactly one occasion. He was good at it. It wasn’t the fighting itself that unsettled him. It was the loss. The number of men, particularly the men he’d ordered into battle, that never returned from that battle, that haunted the young king.

You paused for a moment outside the tent to catch your breath and straighten your dress. Dresses such as the Westerosei wore were new to you, and didn’t suit your preferred activity level. This lead to your new, mismatched wardrobe of men’s clothing and thin, soft, single layer dresses such as you wore now. You wore your hair braided down your back or bound back with thin strips of leather, rather than the strands of gold that had once held it at bay. Overly you felt less royal than you had when you’d stepped off your ship. Yet somehow you felt more genuine, more real, than you had in your entire life.

With a deep breath, you parted the edges of the tent flap and stepped inside. Robb sat with his back to you. His squire, the young Frey boy, knelt beside him. The boy faced you, clearly struggling with the leather straps of his King’s armor. He looked up when you entered. His small face paled at the sight of you and he dipped his head in a hasty bow. The motion caught Robb’s attention and he turned his head to glance over his shoulder at you.

“You may leave us,” he said softly to the squire.

This was the only command the boy needed. He hopped quickly to his feet and scampered past you, exiting the tent hastily.

You paced across the tent to Robb’s side and knelt next to him. The boy had, at least, successfully removed his King’s sword, which was discarded with it’s scabbard and belt rather gracelessly nearby. Robb, for his part, seemed lost in thought and hadn’t noticed the boy’s difficulties.

Without a word you went to work, starting at his calves and working upward. Your nimble fingers unfastened the buckles that held the armor in place and you carefully pulled it away, revealing the padding underneath.

“I take it you were victorious,” you murmured as you loosened the straps above his shoulders.

He nodded absently, his expression blank.

You unlaced his breastplate and slipped it easily over his head. You had to wonder exactly what had been giving the squire so much trouble. Robb put up no fight as your gentle touch guided him this way and that, making removing the armor a quick process. You carefully tugged at the laces of the padding on his chest, letting silence fall between you again.

Once the padding was removed and he was down to his shirt and trousers, you opened the trunk where the armor was kept and began to replace it, layering it carefully so it could be removed in the order it was applied. Robb watched wordlessly. Once you were finished, you turned back to him.

“Robb?” your voice was soft.

He swallowed, seeming almost nervous. You returned to your place in front of him and knelt before him again. You reached up and cupped his cheek in your hand, tipping your head as you looked up at him. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch.

“Do you think it gets any easier?” he asked after a moment.

You stared at him for a moment, considering.

“I don’t know, my love. I hope not.”

He opened his eyes to frown at you, clearly confused.

“No?” he asked.

“No,” you echoed, “I hope it is never easy for you to send men to die.”

He stared hard at you.

“It’s what kings do,” he said woodenly.

You bit your bottom lip.

“That should not make it easy,” you answered.

Robb blinked at you twice, then turned his head to look away. You lowered your hand and sat back on your heals, gazing up at him thoughtfully.

Thankfully, the Frey boy had had the foresight to bring a bowl of water and a soft cloth.  After a moment’s pause, you dipped the cloth into the water and took one of Robb’s hands. You began to gently wash it.

“I don’t know what makes a good king here. In my country to be a good queen means to care for your people and keep them safe. That sometimes means war, I suppose,” you said softly, not looking up from your work, “but the best leaders never lose feeling for the death of their men.”

You worked the sleeve of his shirt up to his elbow as you wiped away the grime and dirt and blood of the battlefield. Then you switched to his other hand, washing up his forearm there as well. Then you got to your feet as Robb tugged his shirt over his head. He let it fall to the floor beside him, unnoticed.

“How do you become a good leader then?” he asked stiffly, still not looking at you.

You paused in bathing his shoulder to consider.

“You have the best teachers,” you said finally.

He finally looked up at you. For the first time since you entered the tent, you saw the barricade he had been holding up start to break down in his blue eyes.

“I had the best teacher,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

You inhaled sharply through your nose and nodded your head slightly. You gently brushed a couple auburn curls from Robb’s forehead as he closed his eyes.

“I know,” you whispered.

You had never known the late Lord Stark, but you felt his loss through his eldest son. Robb’s grief was palpable, yet deeply restrained in front of his men. But you’d seen it surface before, usually here, when you were alone with him. When he sought guidance that you couldn’t give him, that his mother couldn’t give him, nor that his bannermen could give him. His grief never manifested in tears, as you imagined yours would had your positions been reversed. Most often, he was simply as he was now: lost, uncertain. It felt like an intrusion on your part to see him like this. His father’s loss was not something you felt you could truly share with him.

You felt yourself sinking into his lap as you moved your cloth to his face, gently dabbing away the grime of the battle to reveal the smooth, pale skin underneath, slightly freckled from the Riverlands’ autumn sun. He turned his head to meet your eyes, again leaning his head into your touch. There was something utterly tender in his eyes that you felt you didn’t deserve. You hadn’t come to Westeros to stay with him; you had a queendom to go back to. Your people were expecting their princess to return.

You hadn’t expected to fall so helplessly in love with this man.

Yet you had. There was something so fundamentally good about Robb Stark that you had tried so hard to fight. He was so young and had been forced to grow beyond his years so quickly, yet there was still warmth in him that shone a like the early autumn sun that reflected off his copper curls. Maybe it was the earnestness with which he tried to be a good king. Or the fact that you honestly knew you needn’t worry about him losing that ability to mourn his own soldiers. Maybe it was the grief he felt so acutely for his father’s death. Maybe it was the clear adoration in his eyes when he looked at you.

It didn’t matter why.  

It wasn’t really a surprised when your mind came back to itself and you your lips on his, your fingers tangled in his hair. You felt your heart throbbing in your chest as his fingers traced your body through the thin fabric of your dress.

Your breathing came in shivers as he gathered you in his arms and got to his feet. He carried you to the bed a few feet away and gently laid you amongst the furs there. You shimmied out of your dress as he removed what clothing he still had.

Your fingers intertwined with his as he climbed on top of you. At no point did you let go, even as your matched breathing grew ragged. Your nails dug into the back of his hand at the end as you gasped out words he didn’t understand. You lay peacefully in his arms afterward. The gleaming light of the sunset painted the canvas of the tent a faint shade of gold.

You blinked sleepily against the light; your head nestled into the crook of Robb’s elbow as he lightly, thoughtlessly caressed the nape of your neck.

“I don’t want to marry the Frey girl,” he whispered.

You managed to focus your eyes on his face as he said this, trying to make sense of his words. His eyes were wide and sincere. The certainty with which he spoke made your heart flutter.

“I don’t want anything but you,” you responded.

Because quite suddenly it was true. Home, queenship, the life you’d always expected and planned to have, none of it mattered anymore.

All you wanted was right in front of you.

“It’s madness,” you whispered.

He shook his head slightly.

“I don’t think so,” he said softly.

“What of your alliance with the Freys? You need them,” you said.

“Not so much as I need you,” he answered.

You felt your doubts melt a little at that.

“I don’t want to let you go,” he continued in a whisper.

It was strange how clearly you could see the future he was asking you for. Instead of the sands and crystal waters and shimmering towers of home, you could imagine the summer snows of the North, the stone walls and warm fires of Winterfell. You could imagine your auburn-haired children racing through the wolfswood as Robb had described it, their father’s direwolf chasing along beside them. And you wanted it. You wanted all of it so badly.

The part of you that clung to duty, that recognized how irresponsible it was to do what you were doing, knew it would be a mistake to tell him you’d stay. To promise him this was to give up your home, to hand Lord Frey a reason to abandon Robb, and to potentially bring ruin to everything you cared about. But the rest of you knew that it had been a mistake to look into the eyes of this beautiful, brilliant, naïve young man in the first place. And since that mistake had been made, you couldn’t go back now.

Against everything you’d been taught to believe, your heart had handed itself to him. You couldn’t leave him. You couldn’t live without the parts of you that belonged to him.

You looked into those blue, wide eyes where you saw yourself swimming for the rest of your days. You smiled at Robb.

“Then don’t,” you whispered.

His eyes sparkled. You knew he understood what you meant by this.

“Do you mean it?” he asked, sounding almost incredulous.

“If you’ll have me,” you said, smile widening.

He gave a soft shout of delighted laughter and enfolded you into his embrace. You giggled, equally delighted.

“You mean it?” he whispered into your hair, “You’ll stay with me? Forever?”

“Forever,” you breathed into his shoulder, closing your eyes against his bare skin.

Marriage wasn’t standard in your homeland. Your people only married when they truly believed they’d found someone to share their soul with. Status of children didn’t depend on the marriage of the parents, nor did one sex need to marry the other to inherit. It wasn’t a cultural standard; it’d only been adopted when your many times great-grandmother had opened the shores of the city to foreigners, who brought the idea of marriage with them. So it was a commitment your people had never felt pressured to make.

As you leaned back to gaze into those sparkling blue eyes, so soft with tenderness and bright with excitement, you could feel it in your chest. You’d found a man you wanted to give part of your soul.

[survivor-kuwait]

Episode 4 - “I'm tryna figure out this vote like magnifying glass emoji." - Matt S

So naturally I’m panicking because I’m so sure I’m going to warzone, and the last thing I wanna do is be the swap vote out. I’m enjoying the Ma’an Tribe and just being able to talk to people, especially Kait and Owen. So far I only have individual conversations but maybe tribal will actually allow me to make alliances. I hate saying that cause I would never ask to go to tribal unless I really had to.

Challenge update. I think i have decent scores. Will they keep me from the bottom 5? Who knows but im trying my best. Im trying hard in the first game because i think thats the lowest score. Also FUCK multitask. That is very hard. I just want to be safe this round and figure shit out with Nehe, Stephen, and Trace. I have a little rant about Nehe coming up soon. 🤭 Oo I wanted to scream to Renee not to say anything till the votes were read. I knew she was gunna say something when it was a 3-3 tie and she unmuted. It was a big MOOD tho. I just hope she is able to stay safe. I do trust her a lot.

So we recently switched and I still don't know who is on my tribe lol. I am still with Kait which is great! I am with Owen, Stevie and Madison who I spoke to briefly, Matt who I just met, Chloe who I have always wanted to meet, and some new faces such as Timmy, Renee, and Jacob. I always love a tribe with a bit of everything.

Hello diary room how are you? I am making money moves. Connecting to my “tribe” members. Even Trace. The only bitch i don’t care to be friends w is Maynor bc he stinks of Renee’s brainwash. As we all know, Renee hates me and wants me out etc etc. I am doing what I can to protect myself if I end up going to tribal. All i can hope for is that, if renee is at tribal, maynor isn’t as I would have 4 who would have my back from my tribe. That’s 5 votes. If I can get Matt or Madison or someone else on the other tribe to come with, it’s Au Revoir René. I don’t think I’ll be immune as I only had about 3 hours to work on these 5 flashgames but who knows. I trust Adrian. I hate to say that but I do! I quite like Ian and want to trust him but it’ll take time. I believe Devon has my best interest at heart. Okay that’s all for today x

- - -

Just played Axon and I hate this game soooooo much. I play Minecraft all day and spam click all the time but this game is gonna give me carpal tunnel I sware. My arm hurts so much. I guess it’s time to go to multitask

I have been trying to beat my scores in these flash games and i cant. I dont think they are good enough to keep me from the bottom 5. I’m really nervous to be in warzone with people i havent worked with before. Jshdiw i hope i couls find that idol tonight. Ill feel better if I have it in my hands. Nehe rant. So like he said he was down to work with me and have my back. And once again for some reason has happened again. He lied to me about voting for doodle (also willing to do Stevie) because he voted for Renee, my partner! His reasoning was cuz he told me that he was told thats were the majority was so even tho he told me he trust mr, he didnt believe me when insaid that it was going to be doodle when it switched. He still wantsbto work with me so thats good and i have leverage i culd use because he told me he wanted trace gone so i could throw him under the bus if i feel like i cant trust him. Idk if i should be upset about this cuz ppl liebin survivor but in this twist trust is way more important now than in a regular season.

Immunity or tribal it doesn't matter the game presses on. The benefit of immunity is to just build relationships with people without the risk of going home or burning my idol(side note fuck all you bitches when you inevitably turn against me an make me burn my favorite piece of jewelry). Corey has really grown on me, talk game of thrones with me and I'm alliance putty in your hands! I was happy to see Maynor again, I feel there is something there that can be fostered,  Cullan is a bit of an ignima to me still. I'll crack him though one way or another. Trace and I have begun chatting so I'm still up in the air on him and really most my tribe and people in this game. I honestly expected to be on the low end of scores for this challenge but I wasn't? Idk, double elimination means retrograde and please, please don't let it be Chloe vs Willow, I want them both to stick around and be valuable allies. If they can't keep the votes off them then as Walder Frey once said, " I'll find another."

This warzone where 2 people are leaving is just not cute. I was not happy when I saw that. I knew I was going to be here because I did each of the flash games like once or twice and called it a day so I knew I was going to be here and I accepted that. When I saw who else was there I thought "okay, I think I can probably find people to vote with and stay safe this time around" and then BAM it's a double elimination with the vote and it totally changes the strategy of the vote. Could be more difficult to navigate. All I know is that I need to step up my social game because I haven't chatted much with people and I need to start building relationships so if I end up here again I have people that have my back. I am just struggling with the idea of working with Nehe. Longevity I don't think I want to do. Short term, sure. But I don't think I want to deal with that for the whole game. Been there, done that and I am over it. I was talking to Adrian last night and my god that was an infuriating conversation. Adrian had no idea how the warzone was operating because he hadn't been there and I just wanted to say "sis, read an effing post you lazy ass and it will make sense" It's not that hard to understand, it is just different from normal. I just hate when people don't know things because they don't want to read a post. Going back to this double elimination tribal; it is really hard to choose two targets. Being on tribes that don't seem to matter because we get scored individually makes it almost a moot point to target people for poor challenge strength because it is a pretty individual game. I guess that would be incentive to get out strong challenge performers but all of those people won so again, not a good strategy. Also everyone has just encountered different people and no one is being put together with the same people as someone else so there are a bunch of different dynamics between players, more varied than normal because we aren't forced to interact with the same people for an extended period of time. These votes have just been a lot more nerve wracking than votes normally are and making it out alive feels like more of a feat than normal. I'd say I like the extra challenge to step up the strategy because it's different, but I honestly don't. I don't need this extra anxiety about votes, no thank you. I just hope I survive this!

New tribes yay... I miss maynor and it’s overwhelming to actually be forced to talk to more than one person lmao. But other than that it’s good and I’m safe and immune and so far everyone here seems cool... even if I can’t trust anyone because of those 3 votes I got last tribal!!!! Doodle and Stephen and maybe nehe better watch OUT

Now that the game has finally sped up a little bit, I'm excited because I feel like I can actually play the game more. I am also ECSTATIC that I am not at this double tribal thing, because that sounds stressful and I know that avoiding it completely was the best case scenario for my game right now. I really really like Corey. Him and I have hit it off and I can see us working together really well deep into the game. I'm glad that he is safe this round too because he is probably the person I am closest to on this tribe of people I am kind of afraid of. Ian came to me and started talking as well, but something just doesn't sit well with me about him. He blew everyone out of the water in the challenge, so that will have to be something I need to think about down the line when I decide who I want to vote out. Nehemiah talked to me a lot before he went into the war zone, trying to apologize to me about voting Renee. He made it seem like I was withholding information from him which could not be further from the truth. Classic erratic Nehe again making shit up and trying to pin it on me. I want his ass out and I want it out soon. I feel like I finally have some footing in this game. Timmy and I are tight, Corey and I are tight, and I made good relationships with Renee, Madison, and Owen in the last war zone. Hopefully if I do end up going to the war zone again I'll be able to have at least a few people to work with, because right now I don't feel very comfortable on my tribe if this game were normal and we voted each other out.

I am feeling FUCKEN PAN-tastic!! I was working last night so just read the post quickly and it said I was in the Warzone. I felt really sad and nervous but there was an error and I was actually immune. I was so happy that work didnt suck. It was a double too so Im super duper happy that I didnt end up going to tribal. I need to talk more to Ian because Me and him are talking most than others. Im also talking to Trace since he is Timmy’s partner and I want to work with him. Ive been talking to Corey for a bit. I need to make stronger connections while im safe so I can rely on them to want to work with me in the future warzones.

I am so happy to be safe this round! I'm kind of just glossing over the tribe swap because it's barely like we're on tribes since we're competing against them. Just hoping it's 2 from the other tribe gone so that way we still have 5 people to be safe. But also it'll probably be 1 and 1. Either way someone is coming back because retrograde is activated every round 2 people leave so that's going to be interesting. Them and Nehe can start a club...unless it's Nehe again lol. Honestly let it be Nehe again because it means he won't win in the end. Like who would vote for the person who was voted out twice, once has happened, but twice, idk if people would respect that. It would be he hasn't been playing a good game since it was easy to take him out. I'm just excited that I don't have to attend tribal and I can talk to people without the stress of making plans. Matt and I have been talking and he's pretty cool. He is definitely someone I can see myself working with since he's easy to talk to so far.

Well this twist is proving chaotic as it was intended. It appears we have a split but who the hell onows with this round. I do feel a little vulnerable with short repossess from some. I mean anyone could go home tonight.

i will write something longer when I'm home but I'm shook???? that I won the flash game thing. Matt is my fave and I hope my boring Scorpio person goes home thx

Do I trust that these people are gonna give me the correct information when its only 15 minutes before tribal? Not for a fucking MOMENT! But I haven't heard my name and people are like swimming between 2 names and I love both of them equally. Like this is sooooo hard. No me gusta.

I got meself an alliance AND I somehow still haven’t gone to tribal... why am I more stressed now than I was before??? I think the fact that the game is becoming super real is what’s making me really nervous, and as much as having a solid 3 with Owen and Kait makes me extremely happy, considering I trust them more than I’ve trusted an alliance in most games, there’s still so much game left to be played, and I remember in Solomon getting swapped away from my allies and it screwing me over.... I’m shaky!

Oop. Tribal is going to be soon. I wonder who the two that will be going. I just hope it isnt someone Ive been talking to. 2 people will be leaving so i think its going to trigger retrograde and one will be back.This warzone is really messing up strategy in this game.

I missed two round confessionals which suck but to quickly basically sum what y’all missed. I formed the voters pact that plan was throw challenges to get to the warzone but that in it self failed cause they didn’t all throw and then doodle was voted off the next round. I also kinda got lied to about the vote so like boo. This round  in the warzone I kinda like this batch and it’s now how do we navigate the double vote out thing. I have a personal vendetta with Adrian cause I don’t trust him and Chloe is basically a non factor . So the plan since last night was always to go for those two it was just how do we go about it. I decided to make a group of 5 because it made it easier for them to willingly “choose” who they wanted to vote. And thankfully we lead them into voting chloe and Adrian. Now it’s just navigating who votes who and if the plan stays the plan. Fucking Devon is chaotic switching shit. He tried to switch the vote to willow to succumb to Thomas but who gives a fuck what Thomas is voting. I just care about the finale vote tally. I’m afraid definitely if it’s gonna be me for the fact that I don’t want to go back to the retrogade but it can easily be me. Like personally I feel like I’m always able to get people to groove in the direction I want but then I let them mingle and shit happens. I always make sure to have a hand in with everyone sonthey don’t want to turn on me but really the people I truly trust is stevie, Devon and maybe Stephen. Stephen is weirding me out shady vibes but we’ll see.

Immunity never tasted so good! I need Adrian to be safe. I need Madison and Jacob to be safe bc I think they’re at tribal? I would like Renee and Maynor gone but they’re both safe boo hoo. I am socializing w everyone. I love Trace, Adrian, Ian. I would like Cullan gone sooner rather than later as he is hard to socialize with but I like his partner, Willow. That being said, I think everyone likes Willow. Her leaving wouldn’t be the worst thing tonight but I do stan.

I have no sins I’m literally just sitting !!!! Kisses!!!!! Made an alliance with Matt and Kait. But you know how this is gonna turn out....? Kait and Matt are gonna get closer and at some point she will pick HIM over ME!!!! Heksjd this CYS flashback. But for now I like them. Glad that Timmy and madison are on my tribe even tho Timmy considered voting stevie.... speaking of Stevie zzzz boy rlly almost didn’t save himself Lol. But yeah I’m happy the game has shaken up and I’m excited to see what happens at this tribal. I need to really step my social game up tho so I have numbers when I’m down in that bottom ten

I’m tryna figure out this vote like magnifying glass emoji

It sucked thay Willow went. Hopefully she is able to come back because I feel like i had a good connection with her. Madison and Stephen survived so that was good. Right now Im hoping that i can be part of the live challenge. So I have hit M4 N4 O4 P4 and Q4. Im hoping R4 is the last one and i get something tonight at 11:30pm. I keep forgetting to do a reminder for idol guess so it keeps going back further n further.

so happy we voted out two girls, no offense but this warzone twist makes it impossible to backstab nehe and co. effectively. Its fine, hopefully itll be over soon and I can vote his ass out. No offense to the guy but he just very controlling.

Willow, nothing against you, but I really wanted you gone. I hated that you made it to FTC of another ORG without anything besides an idol play and I can say I am not fulfilled. Sadly, Chloe went to and it sucks because I always wanted to play with her but sadly it was short lived, for now. Hopefully Chloe wins her way back into the game!

Of fucking course it's Chloe and Willow in the retrograde. Bastards are voting off the people I know for sure would mess up and leak it to me if I needed to play my idol. I told Corey about how Cullan is short with me and he confirmed he is short to him as well, it must just be how Cullan is. That's fine and all but makes it hard to get a read on him. Corey and I continue to get along from my perspective, more good news, I did not fuck up while I was completely wasted last night and tell someone about my idol. I have a bad track record of getting drunk and laying all my cards on the table to people. I'm not only playing against everyone in the game but also drunk Ian, and that guy is a prick.

I did my next hit and it sunk the ship!! It’s my first time actually finding something in these idol searches. It may not have been an idol but a vote steal is a good item to have when you just need that one more vote. Im not going to tell anyone I have it. Its going to be a secret until it is used to take a big target/threat in this game.

so far in this game im just working on building my connections! i havent gotten a vote yet which is good but i want to try and not go to tribal as much anymore bc eventually i will become a target. i feel as though my best alliance is with madison obvi since we started together and are good friends. other than that im glad adrian stayed because she is someone i could see myself working with

Fuck this I’m tired and my fingers hurt and ugh

Im waiting to found the retrograde duel and hopefully willow is able to come back because I have some part of connection with her. That is all for today. Oop. Bulbasaur in detective Pikachu was the cutest!!

I got voted out bc I had a busy 2 days and I don't think my score for retrograde is very high goodbye

[catknitmom-blog]

Dean's Girl Chapter Two

Dean’s POV

“So what are you thinking? Game wardens? FBI?” I glanced over at Sam as we pulled into the crappy small town motel.

“The Fed suits are good to intimidate the locals so I say let’s go with Agents Henley and Frey.” Sam said without glancing up from the tablet he was using to read the online copy of a local newspaper article.

I pulled Baby into the empty space outside of the office and shut off the engine listening for any odd sounds from the engine. Standing up I stretched my back and futilely tried to ease the back ache of driving 10 hours. Damn, I’m getting too old for this shit. Every hunt is getting harder physically and took longer recovery time. My knees are shot and after spending months in the federal hellhole prison, I’d rather collapse on a couch with a bottle of bourbon than gank some small town witch.

That’s what Sam thought we were hunting, a witch. A woman’s body stuffed inside a hollow tree with her right hand missing was the signal that we had a case. Something about this small Texas town kept bothering me like some long forgotten memory. It wasn’t just that I remembered coming through here after Sam took off to find dad during that fugly scarecrow case when I almost go sacrificed in a damn apple orchard. I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling like there was something important and bad about to happen. After all the hunts why the hell was I feeling nervous about an obvious salt and burn witch case.

I pushed opened the lobby door and walked up to the motel counter. Pulling out a credit card I did a quick glance at the name before signing in. Sam and I changed into our Fed suits and headed to the sheriff’s office to get the details of the dead woman.

As we walked into the office, I reached into my coat to pull out my badge. I stopped when I noticed a teenager working at the front desk. Her dark blonde hair was hiding her face as her hunched over what looked like an algebra textbook. When she heard us walking up she raised her very green eyes and stared straight with confidence and a slight smile.

“Hi. Can I help you?” I couldn’t help returning her smile. She was pretty and seemed to feel comfortable speaking to two men in suits. I had to say I was a little impressed since I know that Sam and I can be intimidating to young girls.

“Hello. I’m Agent Henley and this is my partner, Agent Frey. We need to see the sheriff about a case.” Sam answered.

“Sheriff Emerson stepped out for a minute, but maybe I can help. Do you want to see a case file?” She couldn’t be more than 14 so I wondered if she really could help us.

“That would be great, sweetheart.” I said with a wink.

“It’s Heather, not sweetheart.” The frown and raised eyebrow let me know that I wasn’t going to charm this one into giving us any information and my opinion of her raised even a little higher.

“Alright, Heather. Could you find any case notes about the woman who was killed three days ago.” I saw her face fall with sadness and tears form which made a unfamiliar wave of sympathy. “Sorry, did you know her?” I asked gently.

“Yeah. She was my mom’s best friend, Stacey Emerson.” Heather said as she turned around heading for a metal desk running her fingertips under her eyes swiping unshed tears. I felt like a jackass for making this young girl cry. She picked up a manilla folder and brought it back to the counter.

Reaching out for the file, I said, “Thank you, Heather. When Sheriff Emerson returns can you ask him to give us a call?” I handed her a business card before asking. “Was the sheriff related to woman?” Making the connection of the same last name, Emerson. I didn’t want to call her a victim thinking it would upset Heather more and why the hell did I care if this teenage girl was upset?

“Yes, sir. Stacey was Sheriff Emerson’s daughter.”

“Thank you for all your help. Is there a cafe or someplace we could grab a bite to eat?” I asked because from experience hunting in small towns it was always good to get the local opinion on places to eat.

“Yes, sir. My mom’s cafe is right on the other side of the square. Great WiFi too.” Heather brightened with pride as she talked about her mom. It made me smile at her enthusiasm.

“Sounds great.”

“Best pecan pie you’ve ever had!”

“Really?!?” I exclaimed and Sam let out a laugh knowing we would definitely be heading to her mom’s cafe for lunch. I took the file and we headed out the door.

“Let’s just walk since we’re right here.” Sam suggested and we headed around the courthouse for the opposite side of the town square.

R&H Coffee House was painted in bright red on a sign above storefront announcing what was the local cafe. There were tables set up outside on the sidewalk covered in red plaid table cloths with a napkin dispensers. The ceramic salt and pepper shakers where in the shapes of a tiny hen and rooster. Right outside the door was a quaint chalkboard sign with the day’s specials listened in colorful chalk. All of the decor was rustic and rural with a distinctly Texas flavor. As Sam pushed the glass door to enter, a door bell sounded that was the exact copy of a cow’s moo. Sam rolled his eyes while I let out guffaw at the unique way of announcing customers.

Walking up to the counter, we were greeted by another teenage girl about the same age as Heather, but this one was red headed. “Howdy! Just have a seat at any table and I’ll bring you some coffee. Right?” She said eyeing Sam and I and licking her cherry red glossed lips. Her obvious attempt at flirting was laughable and a little disgusting.

“Thanks.” Sam answered curtly and walked over to a table in the corner next to the windows where we could see the courthouse and town square. I sat down across from him while the girl working the counter came around the cash register and tottered over on platform heels.

The girl had way too much makeup on and the shortest skirt with a tiny little french maid apron. It actually made me feel old and dirty when she purposely leaned her hip against my shoulder. “What can I get for you?” Her name tag said “Steph”.

“How about some menus, Stephanie?” I asked in my stern FBI voice. She practically threw the menus on the table and stomped back to the cash register counter.

“What’s your problem?” Sam asked quizzically looking at me.

I blew a frustrated breath “I don’t know but there’s something about this town and that little girl acting little a slut really bothered me.”

“Yeah, well let’s see what the local sheriff has in his file.” Sam opened the manilla folder and started reading the case notes. I grabbed a menu scanning for lunch ideas.

In the corner of my vision I saw a small pair of cowboy boots covered in tight straight leg jeans. Forgetting the menu, I turned my attention to the jean covered thighs and tiny waist. A knotted flannel shirt rode right above the waist band and was filled nicely across the chest. A long elegant neck held a beautiful oval face with light brown eyes and light brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. I watched as the full lips formed into a surprised “O” when our eyes met. An aluminum coffee carafe fell from her hands and crashed to the floor before the woman spun around and ran through the swinging saloon doors into the kitchen.

Sam’s head jerked up as I quickly stood and followed the woman. I looked left and right in between the stainless kitchen counter tops seeing the woman disappear into what had to be the back business office of the cafe. I knocked on the door before turning the knob and walking in without waiting for an invitation. She was leaning against an old metal desk with her arms wrapped protectively around her. She was shaking violently.

“Excuse me. Are you ok?” I asked softly.

She raised her face with a look of terror when she heard my voice. “What the hell are you doing in my coffee shop, Dean?” The anger was like a slap in the face which had me taking a quick step back especially since she knew my name.

“Do I know you?” Her flashing eyes and ramrod straight spine were indication that she was wound tight with strong emotions.

Blowing out a deep sigh she said, “I’m sorry. I was so shocked to see you here in Cheyenne. I didn’t ever expect to see you again.”

“Again? So we’ve have met?” She seemed to be getting a grip on herself so I took a cautious step towards her.

“You were in town for just a few hours 15 years ago, Dean.” I searched through memories and cases that far back trying to remember her. Oh Shit! A faint memory of taking a girl’s virginity in the back seat outside a bar crept in my brain. Oh damn! I guess she realized from the expression on my face that I remembered because she softly smiled. “My name is Rachel in case you don’t remember that.”

“Rachel. Of course I remember you.” I smiled sheepishly. “How have you been?” I said after a few awkward moments of staring at each other. “You look good.”

“So do you, Dean. Especially in a suit, although I did love the leather jacket.”

“Me too.” We both laughed at that. “So, you never left Cheyenne? I thought you were heading to college? If I remember right, you wanted to get out of this small town as soon as you could.” I watched emotions flow across her face: sadness, anger, and then fear. The fear didn’t make sense and made me suspicious.

“Uh….well…circumstances changed….things happened.”

“You still have a cute stutter when you are nervous.” I couldn’t help but notice that her cheeks were very red.

“Look, I need to clean up the mess I made with the coffee, so let me get you something for lunch and we can talk after closing?” She looked eager to talk so I immediately agreed to come back tonight. I held open the door for her to pass and I caught a whiff of honeysuckle and pecans. The scent immediately flooded my brain with memories of the sensations of stroking her smooth thighs and her lips beneath mine. I’ve had plenty of lovers and there was no reason this one would be remembered but there was something about Rachel’s innocence that night that haunted me. Her trust in me was such a foreign feeling and I was not sure how she did it but she was one of those good memories that were so rare for me.

Rachel walked back to the table where Sam was still sitting watching us approach with open curiosity. Picking up the coffee pot she took it back to the counter and started a fresh pot brewing after pouring the other down the sink. I sat back down across from Sam. “Ok, dude. What is going on?” He immediately asked.

“Later I’ll tell you everything after we eat.” I said as I tilted my head letting Sam know I didn’t want to talk in front of the other customers. Sam raised an eyebrow and then shrugged before picking up her menu.

Rachel came back towards our table with a small notebook. “What can I get you gentlemen?”

“How about a cheeseburger with curly fries. Someone also told me this place had the best pecan pie.” I smiled and winked.

Her smile lit up, “Who told you that?”

“The kid working the counter at the sheriff’s office.” Looking over at Sam, “Her name was Heather, right?”

“You…you met Heather?” She stuttered visibly turning pale.

“Yeah. She was a nice kid.” I said wondering what was wrong.

“Yes, she’s working during the summer for Sheriff Emerson.” Rachel gathered her emotions and turned to Sam to take his order of chef salad. She turned to the kitchen without another word.

“What the hell is going on, Dean?” Sam asked with exasperation.

“I’m not sure, Sam, but I’m going to find out.”

I didn’t see Rachel again during our lunch. Steph brought our plates and drinks. The pecan pie was really the best I ever had. The hours were posted on the glass door so I decided to get answers from Rachel at 8:00 tonight.

After lunch, Sam and I went back to the motel and changed out of the fed suits. I told Sam about meeting Rachel at the dance hall and thinking she was older than 18. I purposely left out that she had been a virgin but Sam guessed we’d made out. While Sam researched the town history and local unexplained events, I headed back to the coffee shop to get answers to questions rolling around in my head. I parallel parked Baby in front of the cafe and stood outside looking in through the front glass windows.

Rachel was sitting at the counter sipping from a tea cup. I watched her reach up and pull out the ponytail holder shaking out her long dark hair. The movement was so feminine and sexy causing a twist of desire in my groin. She looked deep in thought. The years since I knew the 18 year old girl had given her a wisdom and touch of sadness that I recognized in myself. She was more beautiful than I remembered. When I softly knocked on the door, Rachel gracefully slid off the counter stool and approached to unlock the door. I walked through and she relocked the glass door.

“Do you want some coffee?”

“I’d rather have a beer.” I gave her a grin. Rachel smiled and went into the kitchen returning with two bottles of Shiner Bock. Sitting at one of the small cafe tables, I lounged back while she nervously picked at the bottle label. “So, what made you stay in Cheyenne?” I broke the silence.

“To explain that is hard for me. I really never thought I would see you again. When you drove away that night, I didn’t even know your last name.” Rachel said. “I didn’t know anyway to contact you.” She looked down at her hands.

I took a drink from my beer mustering some courage to say, “I’m sorry about leaving like that. I was young and stupid.”

“No, Dean. There’s no reason for you to apologize. I don’t regret that night because…” Rachel stopped to take a deep swig before “…you gave me Heather that night.” Her words made no sense and I was confused trying to understand when she finished. “You met Heather. She’s your daughter.”

I sat stunned. My brain not accepting her words even with the truth shining in her eyes. “Son of a bitch!” I whispered still trying to understand the shift in my world that had happened. “I have a daughter?” I breathed in awe.

“Yes, Dean I got pregnant the night I lost my virginity to you.” Rachel said slowly.

“Shit! You mean I’ve been a father for 14 years?!” It was too much. I couldn’t process any of this. How the hell did this happen? Ok, I know HOW it happened but what am I supposed to do with it? “Does Heather know?”

“Yes, I have been totally honest with her. She knows her father’s name is Dean and that he was a one night stand when I was 18.” I couldn’t stop the wince of guilt that came over me. Rachel reached across the table and placed a hand over mine. “Dean, you have nothing to feel guilty about. Heather is my life and I love her so much. I can’t regret that night with you because you gave her to me.”

“I have a 14 year old daughter.” I repeated hoping my brain would start working again. I could see Heather’s sweet smile and her spunky attitude when I called her sweetheart. “Does she wonder about me? I mean does she ask questions?”

Rachel smiled. “Yes, she asks but I don’t have answers to most of the things she wants to know.”

“Should I….I mean, can I meet her?” I asked hesitantly.

Seriously Rachel said, “Let me ask Heather and see how she feels about meeting her father. Ok? It should be her choice.”

“Yeah, sure. Of course” I said quickly. Looking around I noticed softball team pictures on the wall next to some plaques announcing that the R&H Coffee House was a team sponsor. I couldn’t sit still anymore so I wandered over for a closer look. Rachel walked over to stand next to me looking at the pictures smiling.

“Heather is quite an athlete. She’s played softball since she could throw a ball and hold a bat. She even moved up into the travel league two years ago.” I could hear the pride in Rachel’s voice and felt a tug of pride too. “She plays third base and has a .347 batting average.”

“Awesome!” I spotted Heather kneeling in the front row in each picture. The oldest picture showed her in pigtails but I recognized her face right away. Her eyes were the same shape as mine and that self assured smirk was definitely Winchester.

“She’s an amazing young lady, Dean. Straight “A’s”, National Honor Society, and does UIL competitions in science, debate, and creative writing.”

“Wow! Sounds like you did a great job raising her.” I turned toward Rachel realizing she did this all by herself: had a kid, started her own business, and dealt with the small town bigotry of being a teenage mother.

“Thanks, I did my best. After I found out I was pregnant, I decided that going to college right then wasn’t possible. My parents were great. They supported my decision to keep the baby. When Heather started pre-school, I took college courses online. I have my MBA now and the coffee house supports us comfortably.”

Looking down my feelings of pride flowed towards Rachel too. This woman was so much more attractive than the girl she had been. I raised my hand and placed it on her shoulder feeling her strength. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help.”

Smiling up at me with a mischievous look Rachel asked, “Can you tell me your last name now?”

“Winchester. Can you tell me yours?” I said teasing back.

“Remington.” For a shocked minute we just looked at each other before starting to laugh. The sudden release of tension had us laughing so hard Rachel moved into my arms clinging to my shirt. I felt her struggling to breathe and she actually snorted which made me laugh harder. Finally we eased up enough to take deep breaths. I looked down at the woman whose eyes were filled with happy tears. I couldn’t stop from leaning down to brush my lips across her soft mouth.

All of a sudden it was like a match to gasoline, the passion flamed up between us. I flexed pulling her body tight against mine and buried my hand in her hair to cradle the back of her head. Slanting my mouth I pressed into her mouth and my brain shut down. Her mouth tasted tangy of beer we had drunk and the sweet warmth that was uniquely Rachel. Before I realized it, I had her pressed against the counter top grinding against her. Taking a step back I watched Rachel struggle to catch her breath. “Sorry. I don’t know what that was.” I said dragging my hands through my hair.

“That’s called passion with a whole bunch of lust thrown in.”

Damn. Her sense of humor was hotter than anything I ever felt. She had everything that turned me on and it scared the hell out of me. Turning around I grabbed the beer and downed the contents instead of grabbing Rachel again like my dick was telling me to do.

“Dean, what are you doing in Cheyenne?” Rachel asked obviously recovering faster than me.

I didn’t know if I could lie to her or if the truth was going to destroy any chance I had of getting to know my daughter. Son of a bitch! I hate these moments of truth.

[st-crylo]

On the Road

Part 2

AN: Wow I really do suck at keeping up with updates, but I knew I would at least have part two out by today! Thanks for being patient with me!

Warnings: Minor Swearing

Word Count: 3.3K

Masterlist

Sighing heavily, your (y/e/c) eyes scanning the horizon of cow pastures that now surrounded you, contrasting to the trees of the morning, you noticed the setting sun. Turning to look at Kylo, you saw his eyes were beginning to droop. Fatigue was definitely getting to him, and he desperately needed rest, whether he liked it or not.

“Kylo,” you said softly, placing a hand on his forearm, hoping to illicit some kind of reaction.

“Mm?” he simply hummed, not looking away from the interstate in front of him.

“We need to stop. You know you’re tired and it’s no good going on like this,” you said. He glanced at you, his brown eyes showcasing his fatigue even more, and the bags under his eyes seeming deeper.

“Yeah okay,” he said in surrender before letting out a heavy sigh. Looking back into the rear view mirror, Kylo changed lanes in order to get off at the closest exit.  The interchange brought you up onto a bridge that turned into a small roadside town. From not that far away, a Holiday Inn was visible, and almost immediately after noticing the hotel, Kylo drove towards it, staring at the building as he pulled into its near-empty parking lot. Once the car was in park, he rested his head against the steering wheel for a brief moment before sitting up straight again and getting out of the car. You followed his lead, unbuckling the seatbelt before opening the door to the car, grabbing the bag that held clothes for the both of you. Quickly rushing to Kylo’s side, you noticed he was swaying with sleepiness, causing you to chuckle lightly. Though your situation was grave, seeing him like this was adorable to you. Looking up at him, you laced your fingers in his, to which he responded by squeezing your hand in return before pushing open the glass door that lead to the lobby.

The woman at the front desk looked the two of you over before giving her best grin. It was obvious to you that she didn’t want to be here.

“How can I help you?” she said, grinning widely at you and Kylo as he leaned against the counter.

“We just need one night. One bed please,” he said before stifling a yawn. You looked up at him and smiled lightly as he stared at you. After that he turned to face the concierge again.

“Here’s your key. Enjoy your stay!” She said as she handed you the plastic cards before the two of you walked off.

The room, like any hotel room, was quaint, its beige walls seeming to bring about your own drowsiness. After you closed the door, Kylo walked past you and then lied down on the bed. You leaned against the wall and stared at him for a second before sighing.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower,” you told him. He looked up at you, eyes half-closed and barely awake, and nodded.

You turned the heat up high for your shower, feeling as if the water was any hotter, you’d probably burn your skin off. Using the hotel provided soaps, you quickly washed up before just standing in the shower and soaking, your mind quickly lost in its own thoughts.

It had been a couple days since your excursion into the city, a couple of days sitting at home with Frey curled in your lap, and a couple days since you started mulling over Maz’s idea. Though the morning that you’d woken up from your tequila-induced slumber, you had awoken with a fresh perspective, which made you vow never to return to the city. However, you soon got over your bitterness at yourself for drinking too much, and you thought more about Maz’s idea. You really didn’t want to return to the preschool after the summer was over, and you wanted to work in a real school, after all that’s what you got your degree in, and there was virtually nothing holding you back from searching. With this new line of thought, you kick started your search for jobs in the city, spending the last few days doing nothing but scouring the internet for a potential job.

Along with your fervent search, over the past few days you had everything figured out in a way that only your over-imaginative mind could think. You would spend a few years teaching in the city, making the commute from your small-town apartment, and you would save up to get an apartment in the city. It was perfect, and perfectly achievable, you just needed the job. You brought your lip in to your mouth as you scrolled down the list of hiring schools in the city’s central school district, most of the positions being for either high school or middle school teachers. You kept scrolling until at last your eyes landed on an elementary school position, specifically in the first grade at Coruscant Elementary. Your eyes widened as you clicked on the link to the principal’s email, quickly typing away with anticipation.

Mr. Kenobi,

               I see that you have a position open for a first grade teacher at your school. I would like to apply for said job and would really be grateful if I could meet you somewhere where we can talk about the position.

Warm Regards,

(y/n) (y/l/n).

You wanted to scream with anticipation, excitement ran through you so much that you’d been filled with a burst of energy. Standing up from the couch, upsetting Frey as he was forced from his comfortable spot next to you, you moved into the kitchen to get yourself a drink. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet and placing it down on your counter, you glanced over at your phone. You picked it up and stared down at it before unlocking it with a sigh. There was a plethora of messages from Finn, Rey, and Poe, undoubtedly because of your absence over the past few days. Most of the messages asked if you were okay, whether or not you were still alive, and if you wanted them to come over. Shaking your head lightly, a smile gracing your lips, you replied to everyone before setting your phone down and opening the fridge to pull out the apple juice. Admittedly you had neglected your phone the past few days when it came to replying to messages. In fact, you hadn’t even been on social media all that much either, which was probably what had your friends worried. Normally they would leave you be if they saw you were on social media, unless of course if they wanted you to go out with them.

You quickly poured the apple juice into the glass before putting it back in the fridge and grabbing your phone and drink before heading back into the living room. You sat down on the couch, being careful to both not wake Frey, who was now sleeping, and to not spill your drink. As soon as you got settled in, you grabbed the remote to turn on the TV, deciding to watch the news.

“The third day for the search of local businessman Richard Polther continues. His wife said that Friday night he went out to the bar and never returned,” the news anchor said as an image of the missing person showed up on screen beside her. You frowned as you stared at the picture. He was so familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Shrugging in defeat you changed the channel as you felt the vibrations of your phone on your lap. You looked down and saw that you’d gotten a new email.

Ms. (y/l/n),

I would be very much interested in meeting you! I know this seems very sudden and rushed, but if you could drop by the school in an hour or so, we can talk about the position and hopefully schedule an interview for you. If today isn’t fine with you, we can reschedule for later in the week.

Thank you,

Obi-Wan Kenobi

You wanted to jump with joy when you finished reading. You quickly opened up the reply, but were interrupted when the image of an orange and white corgi appeared on your phone screen. It was Poe calling you, and you quickly picked up.

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked cheerily, turning down the volume on the TV.

“Where’ve you been? We’ve been worried about you?” Poe said from behind the phone, his voice seeming tired.

“I’ve been at home. Just…chilling out, you know, getting over my hangover,” you said. You didn’t want to tell Poe about looking for another job just yet because you knew he’d be the slightest of upset if he knew the two of you wouldn’t be working together anymore.

“Oh. Well, me and everyone else were wondering if you’d wanna go out tonight. Not to a bar again, but to like a friendly dinner at the Tatooine Cantina?” He said, his voice becoming a little more cheery and like his usual self. You thought for a second, mulling the decision over before shrugging.

“Yeah, sure. What time?” You asked, twirling a stray piece of hair on your finger while you waited for Poe’s response.

“Probably around eight. Do you want me to come get you?”

“No, I’ll just drive myself. Thanks though. See ya then!” You said excitedly before the two of you exchanged goodbyes, and then hung up. Feeling the brushing of fur against your leg, you looked down to see your cat staring at you, his green eyes dilated in such an adorable way. Smiling at him, you leaned over to scratch the top of his head before opening up your email again.

Mr. Kenobi,

Today would actually be perfect! See you in an hour!

(y/n) (y/l/n).

Stretching your arms upward before you stood up, you headed to your bedroom so you could start getting ready. Everything was going perfectly smooth, and you were more than excited to meet your potential new principal at your potential new school.

You enjoyed the drive to the city, the traffic giving you time to stare at the looming buildings in wonder and amazement. You wanted so desperately to call this city home, so you really wanted to make an impression with Mr. Kenobi, hence why you were dressed so nicely. There was nothing you wanted more than to get out of the damned preschool you were working in now. Pulling off on an exit which lead to a main street in the city, you followed your GPS until the school came into view.

It was pretty large for an elementary school, but that was to be expected for an inner city school. As you pulled in to the parking lot, you looked up at the school with amazement. Finding a parking spot next to the few cars of the teachers that were there for post-planning, you inhaled deeply before letting out a big breath, turning off your car and then unbuckling the seatbelt. You climbed out of your car and then headed towards the entrance of the school.

When you walked in, a cool burst of air greeted you, coming from the AC. The halls were bare, which you suspected was not particularly uncommon this time of year. The only other person in the corridor was a janitor, mopping along the hallway. You looked around for the entrance of the front office, and when you spotted it you quickly made your way in.

The man seated at the front desk did not bother looking up at you when you entered, he simply kept typing away at the computer. However, you didn’t want to make the situation more awkward than it was, so you simply stood there, waiting to be noticed. Without warning, a door leading to another room was opened, revealing a man with white hair and a white beard, who was dressed casually and was giving you a warm smile.

“You must be (y/n) (y/l/n). Come in! I’m Principal Kenobi,” he said, reaching for your hand before leading you into the office he’d just come from. After he closed the door behind you, you took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk before he moved to sit down. Once he got settled, he turned his chair to face you, his face bright and smile warm.

“I’m so glad you contacted us about the job! You wouldn’t believe how hard it is trying to find a replacement in the middle of the school year, and you’re the first applicant in months!” He said, eagerly watching you.

After that, Principal Kenobi went into interview mode, or so it seemed to you with how rapidly he was firing questions at you, and how quickly he wrote down your responses. After your long “chat” in his office, the two of you walked around the school, Kenobi pointing out the important places in the school, and even showing you your potential classroom. After all was said and done, Kenobi led you back to the schools entrance.

“Well, it was wonderful meeting you Ms. (y/l/n). We really do hope to see you again,” he said, shaking your hand lightly as you stepped out of the building. “Oh, but before you go, you should try the coffee shop down the road. If you do get the job, I’m sure it’ll be your new favorite place.”

“Thank you so much!” You said before walking off in the direction he had pointed to. Coffee actually didn’t sound that bad right now, you thought. It was a nice day after all, and you might as well enjoy the time you had left before you went out with Poe and company.

You were simply walking down the street admiring the view on your way to the coffee shop. You were simply mesmerized by the way the buildings loomed over you, at how the trees along the side of the road were blooming, at the diversity of the city as every kind of person walked by you. You were so ready to make this your home, and every step you took seemed to cement the reality that the job you were applying for was very feasible. You would finally get to leave behind that damned preschool and never have to look back. Sighing in content, you turned you head forward so that you could pay attention to where you were going—only for it to be a little too late.

You rammed straight into someone, whose coffee spilt all across your shirt, the burning of the hot coffee and the impact of running into the person causing you to fall back, only for a hand to reach out and grab onto your wrist before pulling you up steady on your feet. You shook off as much of the coffee as you could before looking up at the person you’d run into.

Oh shit.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” came a baritone voice. You stared in amazement as you recognized the face of Kylo Ren, the man you’d met at the Imperial not but a few nights ago. Remembering the occasion of your meeting, you blushed and turned away from him.

“No, it’s fine,” you muttered, not wanting him to recognize you.

From the distance sat a black Audi RS7, parked in the lot of a CVS Pharmacy across from Corellian Beans, a local coffee shop that was a favorite many, including the man that Poe Dameron was practically stalking right now.

He hated this job more than anything, and always resented being assigned to follow Ren on his every day adventures. Of course, Ren always lost him eventually, but Poe tried his hardest, like he was now, or at least he was trying to. It was the one predictable thing Ren ever did, visiting Corellian Beans, and he always got the same black coffee and left in the same fashion, staring at his phone and quickly heading away. It was a normally boring job, except, of course, for today. As soon as Poe noticed Ren stopped walking, he sat up straighter, looking to see what exactly it was Ren was doing. That was when he spotted you.

Seeing you communicating with Ren again made him want to get out of the car, run to you, and shake you. You had no idea of what this man was capable of, and Poe couldn’t tell you because it would compromise his position. He almost risked it the other night at the Imperial. When he’d first seen you sitting and drinking with Ren, he wanted to scream, to tell you to run, get out, and never go back there, but he couldn’t. Even Rey and Finn had to stop him from warning you about Ren that night. And yet, here you were, in front of Ren again, speaking with him casually from what he could tell.

You wanted nothing more than to escape your current situation right now, and you looked around for any excuse to leave, but for some reason, you felt trapped where you stood.

“Hey, I’m sorry for running into you. I can, uh, get you something new to wear? To make up for the coffee stains?” he said, causing you to look up at him. You regretted doing so almost immediately because as soon as he saw your face, you could see the realization of who you were beginning to settle in.

“You were at The Imperial the other night. You’re that preschool teacher,” he said softly, almost as if he was saying it to himself to assure himself that his memory was correct. Unfortunately for you, it was.

“Um, yeah, I am. I’m sorry about your coffee,” you said, turning away again.

“No, it’s, uh, it’s my fault. I can still get you a change of clothes though, if you want me too,” he responded, his voice trailing off as he continued. You simply shook your head before pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just..head home I guess,” you muttered, turning around to head in the direction of the school so you could get in your car and leave this embarrassing moment behind. You started walking slowly and then began to pick up your pace the further you got.

“Hey, wait!” called out Kylo, causing you to turn your head and look at him. You noticed a slight flush to his cheeks, but you were sure you were imagining it. You noticed he was walking closer to you, a sort of purpose to his stride, at least until he came close enough to you.

“I never got your name the other night,” he said softly, looking down at his hands. To say you were the slightest of awestruck would be a little bit of an understatement. You stared at him in disbelief for a few seconds, before turning to face him properly.

“It’s (y/n). (y/n) (y/l/n),” you said, looking down at your feet before looking back at Kylo’s face. You couldn’t read the expression he had as his face was blank, at least until the corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile.

“Well, (y/n), it’s nice to officially meet you. Have a good day,” he said, before turning and walking away in the direction he’d just come. You watched as he walked away before letting out a sigh and turning back around. You needed another shower, you decided as you began walking towards the elementary school again. You looked over your shoulder to see Kylo still going about his way, and out of the corner of your eye you noticed a black car pulling out of the CVS parking lot.

[ultimafangirl]

Meeting Ambrosia (One shot) (for now)

Summary: When the kids of the latest killing game in up in Selphia they decide to make the best of things. Then Gonta makes a new friend.

Also on my fanfiction.net and AO3 accounts. Will link eventually.

Some chapter 4 spoilers are hinted at. Warning you now. 

(Actual story under cut.)

It had been a few weeks since the sixteen of them showed up in Selphia. Though none of them knew just how they had managed to end up there, although Angie did have a theory, they had all decided to make the best of it. And part of doing so was their decision to stick together. To try to get to know each other and become friends again without Monokuma and the threat of horrible death hanging over their heads.

Though that idea did have some setbacks. There was no place in the town quite large enough to fit the entire group after all. They had to be separated for a while, in various vacant houses, until a house was built that could hold all of them just on the outside of the town.

It was a decently sized place. Even if there were only three rooms. The first room functioned as a sitting room/dining room/kitchen. While the other two rooms served their roles as bedrooms: one for the guys and one for the girls.

The time together, even if they had all agreed to this, was awkward at first. However, in time, they did adjust. Not only were they reforming the friendships they had made before. But they were also recovering nicely. The phantom pains that plagued the majority of them had mostly faded into nothingness. And the night terrors, while still a problem from time to time, had faded as well with each others support.

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

One day, with the chores done and everyone off doing their own things, Gonta decided to go for a walk in Yokmir Forest. Which wasn't unusual for him of course, even after everything he never really lost his love for insects and nature. He had little to worry about. The insect monsters had never bothered him once and the other monsters could do little harm to him as well. So into the forest he went.

He smiled at the ants and the beetles when he noticed something odd. While there were plenty of butterflies to be found in the forest; today their numbers seemed even greater than usual. So Gonta decided to take a look into that. Following the butterfly swarms carefully he was eventually led to what appeared to be a giant pupa.

Gonta was fascinated of course. This pupa was about the size of a human, larger than the giant ants or beetles that regularly roamed Yokmir Forest. And, of course, far larger than the butterflies that flew around it. Unfortunately he was unprepared to take a closer look at it, he had only intended on taking a walk after all, so he decided he would have to come back later.

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

"Later" ended up taking longer than Gonta had planed though. There was some excitement in Selphia. First that a princess who had lost her memory appeared. The princess, named Frey, had spoken to everyone in and out of town that day. Gonta made sure to thank her for taking the time to speak to him of course. Then the next day a prince named Arthur arrived as well. Though Gonta didn't really understand everything that was going on in the castle he was happy to have a chance to make new friends.

Then the weather turned south. They were advised to not wander too far from the town for a while and Gonta was forced to put his plans off further. But finally the weather was sunny again and Gonta could once again head out to the forest. This time he was prepared.

Sort of. He was not prepared for the fact that the chrysalis to have hatched while he was gone. And he was definitely not prepared for the sight in front of him. To his surprise the insect that floated around was far more humanoid than he had ever expected. It seemed to have the appearance of a young girl, albeit one with green hair, dark purple wings and antenna. Some sort of grotesque flower-looking things seemed to function as a skirt and their thorny vines traveled down her legs.

She didn't seem to notice him at first, instead choosing to take in her surroundings. But when she did she flew at him with a speed that would have caught Ryoma off guard. But Gonta stood his ground and she stopped right in front of him. She seemed almost curious as she circled him, as if trying to figure out what he was doing there. It took a moment for the shock to wear off but Gonta quickly remembered his manners and straightened up to introduce himself.

"My name is Gonta Gokuhara and-" She backed away at his words. Gonta was worried that he may have scared her off. But she came back, looking at him curiously again, when she suddenly started making a buzzing sort of noise. Gonta nodded in understanding and smiled "Oh! It's very nice to meet you Ambrosia!"

Ambrosia flew around him again before smiling at his words and flying off.

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

Gonta continued to visit Ambrosia in the days after that. While she never really would allow herself to come too close, she had yet to attempt to attack him. But she would travel outside of the deepest part of the forest to greet him sometimes.

And today was one of those days. Gonta just arrived in the forest when Ambrosia approached. Gonta was smiling as he greeted his friend. "Good morning Ambrosia!" Ambrosia flew around him like she usually did before following him at her usual distance. "Gonta told all his friends about you!"

This, however, made Ambrosia stop in her tracks. She tilted her head at him curiously and Gonta found himself trying to backpedal. "Gonta told his friends that he met a friendly monster! But..." Gonta trailed off, looking sheepish. "Ventuswill did seem upset for some-"

At Ventuswill's name Ambrosia suddenly changed. She grabbed her head and the buzzing sounds became more erratic. Gonta ran toward her, hoping to calm her down. But his attempts did nothing and instead she lashed out and attacked.

Gonta took the full force of the attack and was knocked back toward the cliff's edge. Ambrosia seemed to turn red with anger and she flew at him again. Not wanting to hurt a friend, Gonta quickly dodged her. Only for his foot to slip.

For a moment Gonta seemed to hang in the air. His mind raced back to the last time he had felt this way, with his feet off the ground. Then he fell. Ambrosia flew toward him, this time with worry on her face, but he fell faster than she could fly.

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

When Gonta came to his head was hurting. His vision was blurred but he couldn't tell if it was from the fall or simply from the fact that his glasses had fallen from his face. He couldn't deny he was stuck though. He could hardly see to get out of where he was after all. And unfortunately, he had yet to fully master the teleportation spell that the others were able to use so easily. Though, admittedly, using it in his current condition was probably not the smartest idea.

"You're ok!" A girl's voice, one that Gonta couldn't recognize, called out. Gonta turned in her  direction but with everything blurry he couldn't make much out. A pair of hands quick grabbed his wrist and started to pull. "Come on! Everyone's worried about you!" The strange girl continued to pull and Gonta followed behind her. There were times where he could have sworn he sensed a monster nearby but the two of them were ignored. Gonta had questions of course but for some reason he couldn't seem to make himself ask them. Then after who knows how much wandering-

"Gonta!"

"What happened!? Are you hurt!?"

"We've been worried sick! Why didn't you teleport!"

"What happened to your glasses?" Gonta was quickly surrounded by his friends. They had been searching for him and they were checking to make sure he was ok. In the noise and minor bit of celebrating though, the strange girl had disappeared.

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

Between making sure that he recovered completely and having to get new glasses Gonta wasn't allowed to do much for a while. But finally after replacing his glasses, and promising the others that he wouldn't scare them like that again, Gonta went back to Yokmir Forest. But this time he was surprised to see that he wasn't the only one there. Forte and Frey were had just destroyed a monster portal when they saw him approach.

"Good morning Gokuhara."

"Good morning Gonta! Are you feeling better?" The two of them greeted him and Gonta was quick to return their politeness.

"Good morning! Yes, Gonta is feeling much better today! Thank you for asking!"

"That's good to hear." Forte spoke up with a smile before her expression turned serious again. "The forest can be dangerous if you're not prepared."

"That's why we're here." Frey spoke up this time. "Venti- I mean, Lady Ventuswill asked us to take care of a monster that's been causing trouble. This way we won't have to worry about something like that happening again." Gonta nodded at her words and they soon split off as a group of orcs had appeared. While Frey and Forte fought, Gonta headed on to visit Ambrosia. He was hoping to apologize for upsetting her last time he visited.

In no time at all he arrived at the same place he had met Ambrosia. She quickly flew down to greet him, but this time her expression was different. Gonta couldn't quite place it but he quickly bowed. Before he could get a chance to apologize though a voice spoke up behind  him.

"Gonta! Get away!" Frey and Forte came rushing past him. Frey swung her sword at Ambrosia. The attacked missed and Ambrosia flew out of her reach. It took barely a second for Gonta to get in-between her and the other two.

"What are you doing!?" Forte and Frey both took a step back. They weren't used to seeing Gonta angry. This was a shock to the both of them. Forte recovered quickly and stepped forward.

"Gokuhara, this monster has attacked someone. We need to send it back to the Forest of Beginnings."

"No! It wasn't-"

"Gonta! I'm sorry!" Frey bowed her head to him. "But if we don't send it back it could hurt someone else! Venti asked us to do this so we can keep everyone-" An erratic buzzing sound quickly silenced Frey. The three of them looked up at Ambrosia. She was shaking and holding her head again. Then suddenly she appeared to flash red and flew straight at Frey.

"Look out!" Gonta was frozen at the sight in front of him. Forte had moved to protect Frey, and her sword had gone through Ambrosia. Shaking, Gonta fell to his knees at the sight. His skin itched and he could feel a pain he wished he could forget pierce through him. But he couldn't make himself look away. Forte pulled her sword out of Ambrosia who started to shake for a moment. Then her wings stopped and she fell to the ground.

There was a flash of light that blinded all three of them for a moment. And when it cleared Ambrosia was gone. And in her place was a young girl with green hair.

[girlmeetsminter]

under appreciated

prompt: in which y/n is joking around with simon and he takes what you say the wrong way.

warnings: a swear or two

notes: sorry this is so rushed and unedited, just wanted to say a huge thank you for 100 followers 💕💕

___________________________________________

“simon” my small voice echoes throughout the halls of the sidemen house.

i didn’t live here, but sometimes i wonder if i did would my boyfriend actually want to spend more time with me. i spent a lot of my free time in the presence of simon, but i can’t say that the same necessarily goes for him.

if he’s not found recording, he’s editing, and even when that’s finished he’ll be perfecting thumbnails and rendering stuff.

“in here” he responds evidentially not moving from his desk. not that i would have expected any different.

“just me” i peep my head in the door to see if i’m disturbing him from anything. “i got you some lunch” gesturing to the sandwich made only minutes earlier.

“you didn’t have to do that” he’s still yet to take his eyes away from the current video he’s working on. typical, i think while sighing.

it’s almost as if he is oblivious to the unhealthy amount of time he spends alone in his room. while he may not physically see his friends, he spends a whole lot of time with them. myself on the other hand have to work into his schedule.

my unintentional sigh allows me to receive the full attention of my boyfriend as he reluctantly swivels away from his computer screen. “what did you make?” he says with a cheeky smile, showing that although I didn’t have to make him anything, he’ll still willingly accept it.

“nothing exciting” i wave my hand dismissing his question. “but um- does that mean you’re taking a break?”

“ugh, well i wasn’t really planning on. but i can take a few minutes out if you’d like.”

that being the only invitation i need, i plop myself on his bed. “you’re cute you know?” he smiles at me taking a bite of his sandwich before placing it down on the desk.

“well i must have one real lucky boyfriend then” i answer with a placid smile.

“yeah you must. i suppose he’s rather attractive too?” he replies.

i pretend to think about it for a moment while laying back onto the duvet. it doesn’t take long for simon to react to my teasing as his fingers lightly begin to tickle my sides.

“okay, okay! i guess your somewhat attractive” emphasising the somewhat. my answer clearly not being the right one, as the torture endure from simon’s fingers continued.

“i give up, you’re attractive simon!” realising that i did just scream that rather loudly i immediately clamp my hand over my mouth.

“good, and now the whole house knows it” the cocky grin already etched onto his face.

“you’re such a goofball” i say whilst attempting to push him away from me.

“well then why do you keep coming over here to spend time with a goofball, hey?” his mouth presses to the spot interconnecting my neck and jawline.

nine times out of ten my reaction to him would have been absolute pleasure. for some reason today i’m slightly annoyed at the lack of time simon and I have spent together. particularly in the last few weeks, which results in my honest thoughts to unravel themselves.

“i’m not really sure either..it’s not like this goofball spends anytime with me when i’m here” annoyance evident in my tone.

within an instant simon retracts from my neck and looks down at me with sad eyes.

“is that what you think of me? someone who hardly cares about you? or doesn’t have time with you?”

“no simon that’s not what i meant at all” he moves further away from me standing up and pacing the room.

“great just another thing i’ve fucked up” his voice becoming more aggressive by each syllable.

“babe calm down you haven’t fucked anything up” even with such sincerity the words don’t get through to him.

“listen y/n, my life isn’t all sunshine and roses. it’s hard work, a lot of hard work. not only do i need to be putting good content out frequently, i also have to maintain a good image. you saying that i don’t give you enough attention makes me feel like someone who just uses a girl when he has needs and then tosses her to the side. i’m not that guy y/n! and I don’t have to be with you to think about you, because trust me when i say you’re the only thing on my mind. there’s no balance in my life, if i spend all my time working i’m upsetting you and if i spend all my time with you i’m upsetting millions of people. i can’t win” eventually he stops pacing, he stops yelling and tears begin to run down his face.

“take a deep breath si. you’re taking this all completely the wrong way! i’d be lying if i said i didn’t feel a little ignored at times. but i understand it’s your job, and in no way do i feel used by you. i walked into your life knowing full well all the overtime you do, all’s i’m suggesting is a little break every now and then. for your own sake.”

i stand from the bed and wrap my arms around him. he sobs lightly into my shoulder, his grip tightly around my waist.

he moves back ever so slightly still with his arms firmly holding onto me. he looks for my eyes to make contact, while he takes a shaky hand to press under my chin lifting it up. “i love you y/n, i really do. and i’m sorry if i make you feel under appreciated. you deserve the world, and i’m sorry if i can’t give you that, but i’m trying and i’ll do anything for you. from now on i’m going to include you in everything i do. if you’re here and i’m filming, you can help with the camera work or can even make special appearances in my videos. if you’re here and i’m editing we can put a movie on and snuggle together while i do so. i love you more than anything y/n/n, and i want you to feel the appreciation you deserve.”

very delicately he leans down locking our lips together. in a slow and passionate kiss that shows every part of my body that he appreciates my company.

“i love you too simon” i respond against the warmth of his lips. simon picks me up and throws me over his shoulder, i immediately begin squealing and hitting his back.

“calm down gorgeous, stay here i’ll be right back” he instructs while throwing me onto his mattress.

i here him frantically rushing around the house and i let out a small giggle at how dorky he can be sometimes.

he runs back in with a parcel in hand and lack of oxygen. he stops to catch his breathe before sitting down next to me.

“i know i’m a day early but i feel like after all we’ve been through today you deserve it now” handing over the parcel wrapped with a sloppy bow on top.

he watches me intently with eager eyes as i pull back the pink tissue paper. inside is a beautiful navy blue cocktail dress made entirely of lace.

“what’s this for?” i ask evidently confused with his nice gesture.

“well i figured since tomorrow is our anniversary of when we met i wanted to take you out somewhere nice. it’s a total surprise so don’t ask any questions, but i just wanted to do something for you. i may have even asked freya if she can stay here tonight so we can have your apartment to ourselves” he adds with a wink.

“you remembered that it was our anniversary? you’d been so busy lately with the book, and the tour and your other events i didn’t think you’d be able to take some time off.”

“i feel offended that you think i’d forget the day i met the most prettiest, most intelligent and most kind hearted girl in the world” he says faking a hurt expression. “i remember it like it was yesterday” he nudges my shoulder.

“really?” i ask in awe. “do you think maybe you could recall the story to me?”

“of course my love” he says tangling our legs together as he lays us back into a more comfortable position.

“it was an ordinary tuesday for me, typical video grind type of day. we had a meeting in town about some new merchandise and jj, vik and lewis had all left together. but josh and I had to make a pitstop to grab freya before the meeting. she’d gotten out of class early and was meeting a friend for lunch, so josh promised he’d pick her up so we could all go to the meeting together. we were about 20 minutes earlier on picking frey up than planned so she was no where ready to go when we arrived. ‘sorry boys do you mind waiting on me finishing my lunch i’m starving’, and josh responded with something like ‘no problem at all babe, do you mind if me and simon crash your lunch date though?’ freya had introduced you to me and josh, before the two of them engaged in a deep conversation. this left the two of us to get to know each other until frey was finished. i remember being so nervous at what to say and wondering whether you liked me as much as i liked your personality and your gorgeous looks. i remember freya teasing me the whole car ride about not getting your number and that i’d be begging her for it later. every time josh had to meet freya on campus i’d always ask whether he thought you’d be there, or when he’d get back i’d ask if he’d seen you. it got to the point where him and freya had organised a secret double date which they claim was a coincidence so that we can meet again. and i’m glad that i grew the balls that time to ask for your number, because if i hadn’t i might not be laying here while you peacefully sleeping in my arms” he lightly chuckles pulling the blanket over us and holding me closer than ever.