#one punc man

[kleewee]

I can act rather normal about him

[dizzybizz]

can i interest you in some of my ryuu screenshots.. a bit of a ryuu appreciation post if you will...

his design is so .. simple n kinda basic but he has so much charm,, i'm endlessly charmed by him it's literally so embarrassing... he is just very endearing and cute 👉👈 what a polite young man

and here is me trying to get a clean screenshot of this pose without the dialogue box, a saga:

i'm sad to say that this saga has no real conclusion (yet...) the wind-up animation is long enough for him to start babbling so i'm doubtful i will ever capture the screenshot i want. anyway i love this guy more than i could've ever prepared myself for 😭

[mad-hunts]

Eliza’s gonna throat punch the doctor who said he was unlovable.

oh? well, damn JSJS alright... but tell me why that this is actually kind of sweet of her, though. i mean, i don't think anyone's really been angry on behalf of him besides his kids + probably some of his previous lovers? (marceline is definitely one of them + maybeee auriel as well!) so yeah. and even though i obviously do not personally condone throat-punching people, i am totally saying do itttt in this context because in the end, the doctor is a fictional character LMAOOO though don't worry — barton has a list of plans all the way from A to D to kill him, so he's way ahead of 'taking care of the problem' (man's is a certified menace y'all AHHH)

[two-white-butterflies]

★ — imgonnagetyouback | max verstappen

Description: Max ends the relationship with a phone-call.

Pairing: actress!reader/max verstappen

Disclaimer: Everything written in this fanfic holds no truth about anyone's personality or actions. It is made purely for entertainment.

A/N: everything i do used to be inspired by the 2014 ver. grimes. reader is unhinged as her, but gets development in the end!! THIS IS AN ODE TO THE "MONSTER" TITLED FIC I READ ABOUT LEE PACE.

"Let's break up."

Let's break up.

You could still hear the aftertaste of his voice on your ears. How nonchalant he sounded while denying a relationship of seven years. Why was he quick to leave? Did he find someone else?

You sniffled, wiping your snot with a tissue on your right.

I'm gonna get revenge.

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yourname: me, the dogs and @edmundquandt

liked by 728,391 others

>comments

maxversworldargentina: huh isn't she dating max? did u break up?

reversethismess: Who is he?

victoriaverstappen: ❤️

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Y/N L/N AND FORMULA ONE DRIVER, MAX VERSTAPPEN CONFIRM THEIR BREAKUP.

Yesterday UMG Inc. Agency released a statement to SSN confirming the breakup between Y/N L/N and her Formula One boyfriend.

The pair began to date each other in 2017, where Verstappen was accepted into Toro Rosso and Redbull Racing. They have been together for 7 years and have been dubbed as the most iconic couple in the Formula One paddocks.

Rumors between the two splitting emerged late March, however the couple affirmed that they were still dating each other. On December, however the netizens were greeted with radio silence.

According to L/N's team: the breakup was mutually agreed upon, as they grew apart from all the travelling required for their job.

>comments

grills93: I can't make it go away by making you a villain, I guess it's the price I pay for seven years in heaven.

lnworld: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO AND HER NEW INSTA POST WITH EDMUND???? NOOOOOOO

carshfo: she defo cheated with edmund bcs no way lol

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Max's pulse was racing at the sight of you around another man's arms. Seeing your arms wrapped around his shoulders, leaning into him for balance as you laughed at a joke that wasn't funny at all. "- and then we found out that there wasn't a building in the hotel with those rooms." Edmund finished his joke.

By that time, you were already laughing uncontrollably.

Max clenched his jaw.

A piece of his heart regretted breaking up with you.

"Control yourself mate, he's a big investor." Yuri reminds.

Max didn't give a flying fuck. He didn't own any Redbull stocks. He's a good driver, this Edmund Quandt has nothing on him. His features only soften once he remembered the reason why he broke up with you. He wanted to focus more on his career. He wanted to test the pond for more fish.

He needed upgrades on his car.

Fuck.

He needed to chafe his knees for this guy.

"Funnily enough, when I was in Texas I had a similar encounter. I knew exactly what to do." Edmund placed a hand on the small of your back. Max prevents his eyelids from twitching.

Charles smiles, showing the crowd his dimpled cheeks. Charles always had the ability to charm other people. He was perfect, and now he's friends with Mr. Quandt whom he only met.

"I'm sorry for asking this Edmund, but are you two...?" Charles paused, allowing the other man to fill in the blanks. Edmund smiles - pearly white teeth and a godly physique.

Max doesn't fail to observe the glance that Edmund gives you, a look that asked for your permission.

"We're dating each other, for a month now - but we're still testing the waters." you chuckled, ignoring the presence of your ex-boyfriend despite his figure melancholily staring at you.

"I just want to put a ring on her." Edmund admits.

The other people fade into the background.

"My father always says, give her a ring with a big diamond so she won't be able to see how much of a monster you are." he teased.

"You're not a monster." your eyebrows merged into each other.

Max wanted to punch the air.

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yournamepriv: i love this big baby 🥺 @e123456

liked by 92

>comments

haileybeiber: i love this for u omgg

sophierichiegrange: So cute ❤️🥺

e123456: You got my good side! - yournamepriv: Ur good side is 360 degs

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Max takes a deep breath. Again.

You forgot to remove him as a mutual in your private account. And he was greeted by a picture of you kissing Edmund Quandt. His mind raced through a million different thoughts. Regret, anger, resentment - but they were mostly filled of regret.

He didn't appreciate what he got, and now it's gone.

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maxandynfanbase: do you get deja vu? 😭

liked by lewishamilton and 72,192 others

>comments

mercyplease9: EDMUND IS SO TALL??

ohnoaosd9: lewis we can see u 💀

holyhell1: i like pic 2 more

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yourname: visited some mangrove swamps with this big baby. 🥺your integrity makes me seem small... #savethemangroves tagged: edmundquandt

liked by maxverstappen, lewishamilton and 1,283,923 others

taylorswift: You and Edmund have the KINDEST heart. - yourname: thanks taytay i wanna see u and trav here next time - taylorswift: Will do! I'll tell you when my schedule clears up. - yourname: love u ❤️

haileybeiber: We love a momma who cares

sophierichiegrange: <3

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"I can't believe she's out there helping the fucking mangroves." Max places his phone on the couch.

He couldn't believe your sudden change in tune, that drastic of a change to come from someone like you? "She used to complain being in the EU because it meant not using plastic straws." he breathed, still choosing to believe that you were like him.

Still the same crazy. Still the same stupid.

"She's really being fake for him." he shook his head.

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yourname: i totes know how to play 🎾 this friday we're having an event for all the young racecar drivers that unfortunately can't afford to pursue the sport. all proceeds will go to @bmwfoundationsports and the @grandprixtrust !!

liked by edmundquandt and 1,283,912 others

>comments

edmundquandt: ❤️

CharlesLeclerc: Will be in attendance. 🫡

oracleredbullracing: We love a Queen with a good heart

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maxverstappenupdates: Max Verstappen in @bmwfoundationsports and @grandprixtrust.

liked by kellypiquet and 23,392 others

>comments

youalloverme: HE LOOKS SO SAD...

maxismybf: Hadnsumm

posyposie: wondering if a dodged a bullet or just lost the love of my life

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He takes another sip of his whiskey, forgetting about the cameras that snapped his figure left and right. There were a million things he wanted to say to you, but he wanted to start with a question.

"I never imagined seeing you change yourself for a guy." he scoffed.

You turned around with your eyebrows raised. Flabbergasted at his insinuation. "Change myself?" you repeated the word, finding it to be hilarious on his tongue.

"The whole save the earth, save the kids thing - you don't care about that. I understand though, money is money and your boyfriend has a lot of that." Max allowed the alcohol to speak in his behalf.

"You don't have the right to talk about me or my integrity. You abandoned me, remember?" you argued, feeling anger pulse through your veins.

Since he left, you tried to make yourself better.

"When I was with you, we were both horrible people. Quite literally the rich people cliche that we promised not to become. I guess you were right, we weren't growing together - and now I've become a better person without you - all because of Edmund." you gritted your teeth, grabbing the champagne on the table before the media realized that the 'ex-lovers' were talking to each other.

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(PRE-EDMUND QUANDT.)

I'm gonna get revenge.

That night you planned to ruin his chance at winning by exposing a flaw in the car that would allow the other drivers to overtake him. A button outside of the car - with the engineers that could remotely turn off a key engine that allowed his car to move faster.

He told you about it because driving at that speed endangers his life, and if you were the only one in the administration panel that knew about it - he made it your duty to push that button.

You grabbed your laptop, sneaking inside the garage. "What are you doing?" a voice emerged from behind you, and you momentarily stopped with the program.

You turned around - only to be greeted with your ex-boyfriend, Edmund Quandt. A man that your parents adored. A man whom everyone thought was going to become your husband, and he was here - behind you. Looking at you.

"Just grabbing my things, I won't be here anymore." you lied. Despite your obvious lie, he chose to give you the benefit of the doubt. He always kinda chose to see the better side of a person, rather than thinking the worst of them first.

"Oh why is that?" he asked with a smile. "Because of things..." you evaded the question - not wanting to rant about your other ex-boyfriend that broke up with you because of a phone call.

"Are you done with grabbing your things?" his eyes narrowed.

"Oh yeah." you breathed.

You had to evade your plan of revenge.

"Do you want to grab some coffee?" he offered.

"Of course."

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Max Verstappen I'm really sorry for doing that. Must be all the Whiskey I drank 😅

Y/N L/N Drunk actions are sober thoughts, Max

Max Verstappen I still shouldn't have confronted you It's just really weird seeing you post things like save the turtles, donate to the kids we never gave a fuck about those 😆

Y/N L/N Yeah, I didn't care about them But now I do We used to be the same but now we aren't

Max Verstappen ?

Y/N L/N You broke up with me because you wanted to focus on your career Because all you care about is money and success We both got stuck on that We didn't see the value in other things When we broke up, Edmund brought me back to earth Opened my eyes to the privilege we've been granted

Y/N L/N Take this as a warning Max The high life isn't gonna last forever

*blocked*

[velnoni]

Jesus, I LOVE how you interpret ford. Can NOT emphasize how much I enjoyed reading ur hcs for demi!ford! (and then I also have a much more personal appreciation as someone who’s prob demi. so, I’m excitedly shaking your shoulders a little.)

So how would things progress romantically for demi!Ford and reader, building off ur last set of hcs??

It's so nice to hear this, honestly 💓 and ofc, I'm glad you can enjoy these hcs on a deeper level! This ask is also gonna be a long one so buckle up.

Ford x Reader Romance Headcanons

Link to previous headcanon mentioned in ask

As mentioned in the last post, the two of you would consider a romantic relationship after Ford finished traveling with his brother. Something like traveling the world for anomalies would definitely take a minimum of a year to be frank. And you genuinely missed the guy. You missed the way he fixed his glasses (why doesn't he get a new pair?), the sassiness that came with him debuking theories, and his deep voice. Work wasn't the same without him.

Seeing postcards of him and Stanley always made you happy. And sometimes you would trace his clean penmanship in the letters he would mail to you. There would be days when you would receive multiple pages consisting of findings, personal life, and so forth. And you'd do your best by updating him about the Mystery Shack, your job & your own life in return. Because it was mail, there would be delays in the messages, but nothing neither of you could handle.

As time passed, the letters continued to pile in your drawer. You couldn't help but wonder if Ford and his brother would make it home safe. How does puncing an octopus in the eye even save the day? Those twins were such rascals, you swear.

Sometimes, you will dry out flowers and spray them with a light fragrance before mailing the letters away. Flower language is a wonderful thing, and on a particular night, you placed a chrysanthemum in the mail for the twins' safety. You were sure Ford would understand immediately.

The next letter you got back had a hydrangea. At some point as the days grew longer, you'd recognize your feelings towards Ford, especially after Mabel learned one summer you were the pen pal Ford spoke so fondly of.

When the brother touched back to land, you didn't find out until a couple of days after, both twins greeting you after work. You were incredibly excited over their return, noticing the differences in their behavior and how happy they both looked. The sea did them well, especially Ford. If your eyes lingered on him for a second longer, he didn't notice, but Stan will.

When Stan retires to bed, he shoots you two a wink, you being perplexed and Ford grumbling from his chest at his brother's implications. With the two of you alone, it reminded you both of when y'all started hanging outside of work. The night consisted of jokes, bantering, stories, and one too many cans of soda.

"May I be frank with you for a moment?" he asked. You turned your head in his direction and nodded, "What is it?" Ford would look away for a moment and then clasp his hands together, playing with his fingers, a tick of his when nervous. "S-Stan had told me recently you seemed interested in me. Ahem, well, allow me to elaborate. Romantically. Typically, I don't listen to Stan's gibberish, but he pointed out some discrepancies in your behavior." You made a small show of it by looking at Ford brown eyes and the way his peppered eyebrow creased in presumed concern. Leave to Stan to catch you red-handed. You reach out for an open bottle of soda and sip on the lukewarm contents. Ford was kind enough to be frank with you, and you appreciated that, a pro from a man of science.

"Yeah well...he's not exactly wrong." You swish the soda around in the can, wishing the sloshing sound could be more distracting than Ford's lips parting in surprise. "I genuinely do like you. You're a good man and company, Stanford. Got a few skeletons in the closet, but who doesn't? You're kind, enthusiastic about your work, and you're doing your hardest to move on. It's so easy to speak to you, and I really enjoyed your letters. It made life more bearable, y'know? And yes, I also see you as cute, but that's beside the point."

You glance at Ford, noticing how the tips of his ear were beet red and gave a tiny smile of reassurance. "Look, I wasn't planning on telling you at all. If this makes you feel uncomfortable, I can—" your cut off mid sentence when the older twin raised his hand to stop you.

"I'm sorry, I—" he coughs a bit and stares at you, clearly ready to speak. You prepare yourself to be let down gently. "I...I also feel this way towards you as well." You could hear the anxiousness in his voice and see how his lips turned down.

He would continue to confess about how you were someone he didn't want to let go of. But that even though he was confident enough that he had romantic interest, he was unsure how to go about it or if he wanted to tap into the potential of such a thing. It's been so long...

You reassure him he doesn't have to do anything and that you're happy he would be so open about it towards you. You can't help but chuckle at the irony of it all— the both of you felt like teenagers. He questions you about relationships, your experience, expectations, and so forth, and you answer to the best of your ability.

In the end, you two decided to give it a go. For Ford, he would like to go slow with the dating process, preferring outings that didn't require much physical contact. This could consist of book dates, picnics, movie marathons, dinner, etc.

For the most part, this worked great, Ford is very calculating even while dating, but you hope he'll be more comfortable eventually. It would be months until Ford kisses your cheek, and if it weren't for the scratchiness of his stubble, you wouldn't have noticed. It happened after watching a movie, and you returned the kiss. Ford will shyly cup his large hand into yours.

Ford at first will overthink everything in the beginning of the relationship, wondering if he's competent enough for you or if he's asking for too much. You reassure him that's not the case but sometimes he'll worry.

He's a superstitious man at heart and would prefer for your relationship to be quiet but not out of embarrassment. Half a year will pass before he would be okay enough to cuddle with you in a bed (clothes on). The most you two would do is give small kisses and tight hugs that led into the best naps.

He's an old man, he's bringing flowers when he picks you up for date night because it's classy and he enjoys the smile on your face when you smell them. Sometimes, he will offer you a ride home as well.

Please don't play Mario Kart with him...

He likes when you give him back massages (sweater on) and will gladly return the gesture.

Arguing with him is a nightmare, though. Man is stubborn as an ox and will not listen until you both properly calmed. And even then, he has his pride to uphold—something that has to run in the Pines family. Try to bribe him with hot chocolate if there needs to be a sit down.

Are sexual encounters on the table? Yes but he'd appreciate a discussion about it and if he even feels comfy enough to do so at the moment. He's trying his best to be more open minded and honest, you're his safe place. He's the type of guy to schedule sexual intimacy and no I'm not joking, he's a stickler for time. You don't know whether to be flabbergasted or amused. Probably both.

All in all, expect a simple and healthy relationship with Ford. He's learning just like you are.

Thank you for the ask! Please like and reblog, I'd greatly appreciate it.

[syoddeye]

useless, part three

Part three (and the finale!) of my submission to @glitterypirateduck's O, Captain! Challenge. As a reminder, I rolled a d100 to select three prompts. I finally used my third prompt.

42. The story spans over a period of 10 or more years

14. Opposites attract

66. Price or Reader is auctioned off for a date as part of a fundraiser

cw: one pregnancy mention (Reader does not get pregnant, has never been pregnant)

Read Part One, Part Two. Tag list: @v1x3n @kiranezra

~4.2k words, Price x f!Reader. This is the most self-indulgent shit I've written in awhile. Please enjoy.

It's past midnight when you limp through the front door of your flat, dropping belongings and articles of clothing alike, shedding both the weight of personhood and your eighteen-hour day. You set your keys down on the end of the counter, ignoring the thin folder for the umpteenth time. James will undoubtedly text about it in the morning, his patronizing messages more reliable than any alarm clock. A half-hour commute home, and you didn't even glance at your phone in fear of accidentally seeing another email from his lawyer. Solicitor. Whatever.

Hamhock slinks out from his lair beneath the bed, weaving between your ankles when you drag yourself into the bathroom.

"Hello Hammy," You whisper, eyeing the newer crop of gray hairs near your roots with a weary neutrality. Definitely the fundraiser's fault. Your hair started to change long before this year's planning began, but this is the longest period you've gone without dyeing it. One thing to thank James for. Not only did his departure give you a crystal clear focus, it freed you from his ridiculous expectations. He'd've commented the moment he spotted the wisps of silver, then casually worked something like anti-aging cream into the conversation.

The prick poisoned the well, and now the only man in the world for you currently lies at your feet. How it should've been from the start, really.

After checking the orange menace's automatic feeder, you slip into bed, allow him to assume his nocturnal throne—your armpit—and plug your phone in one-handed. Your eyes glaze over at the sight of notifications, thumb swiping by muscle memory, and set an alarm. With two weeks left until the big day and more than a hundred unsold tickets, you need every moment you can get. You sigh, counting the tasks of the day ahead instead of sheep.

You'll sign the divorce papers tomorrow.

~~

Naomi practically forces the granola bar into your hands. The assistant stage manager and the props lead—the younger woman is the glue to your glue. A newer fixture at the Bramble Theatre, she was you to an extent, maybe a decade ago: fresh-faced, eager, and optimistic.

"I didn't like how you were looking at the wax fruit."

"We should swap the oranges for plums. Or pears."

"We've been through this. The oranges fit the palette, from the paintings to Dotty's–oh, quit pulling my leg."

You grin, then jut your chin at the stack of slips in her hand. "Are those the waivers? Did all the volunteers sign?"

"Yes, I can post headshots today on socials, so that should boost sales."

"Good. That's one fire extinguished," Rubbing your temple, you lean back in your chair. "I feel gross about it, though. I mean, we run shows that are hundreds of years old, but a date auction? Why don't we raise a guillotine out front and sacrifice effigies to raise money?"

Naomi blinks and whips out her phone. "...Okay, one, I'm noting the effigy idea for next year, but two, the auction won the vote, and everyone participating volunteered."

You grimace. "I know, it's just–"

The sudden opening of the door to your shoebox office interrupts. Theodore, business manager, director, and occasional movement coach, bursts in. Everybody's a multi-hyphenate.

"Terrible news!"

Wonderful. A new fire. You squint, chewing, and watch Naomi try to stifle a laugh valiantly. "Whatever could this be about?"

The older man slams his palms onto your desk, his layered pendants tinkling. "I've punched the numbers, including a best scenario, stars aligning–"

"Teddy. Out with it."

"–we're going to be £40,000 short. Even if we sell out, even if we raffle off the company like cattle, we are circling the drain!"

The tired amusement leaves your body, and in its wake sits a five-digit number and the distant idea to schedule a salon appointment.

The annual fundraiser for the theater, your hard-won home, is a dramatic, demanding, and near-disastrous event every year. The theater has continuously operated a hair above the red, but the laundry list of expenses from the last year cannot be ignored. The new light rig, the stage flooring replacement, the curtain repairs—they never stop. Sponsors and grants only go so far.

Originally, you took this job for its laughable but slightly higher pay and because running around like a madwoman between four gigs at a time wasn't as thrilling or charmingly bohemian as it was in your twenties. Your livelihood depends on the playhouse's success. And the economy. And the general public's attitude toward the arts. All wildly variable. It made you resourceful, and already, you were composing a mental list of people to politely bully for pledges promised in years past. You need time and a phone charger.

"Teddy," you set the half-eaten granola bar down. "Go get ready for afternoon rehearsal. Naomi, cover for me today?"

"'Course."

Theodore swipes his spindly fingers over his brow, nodding fervently at your resolve. "If anyone can pull it off, it's you. Do tell if there is anything yours truly can do." With a flourish, the director departs your office, but Naomi lingers.

"You know if it's donations we need…"

You shake your head, immediately knowing what she intends to suggest. "Out of the question."

"But think of her–"

"I'd rather debase myself and resort to dinner theatre."

"I'm just saying–"

"Naomi," You stress. "I am not calling my mother."

She frowns. "Desperate times call for desperate measures. Are you really so proud you wouldn't leverage your family's connections to save the Bramble?"

It makes you pause. As usual, she's right. Irritatingly so. You could take another salary cut, but you'd need to find a flatshare, a humiliating idea. Hammy wouldn't survive it, the sensitive thing. You sigh and dismiss her with a wave.

"Fine I won't rule it out. But I'm going to shake down half the city first."

~~

An hour later, you've managed to secure a percentage. Not too shabby, but far from the goal. You take a break to read James's team's latest, vaguely threatening missives and entertain the idea of withholding your signature until he makes a donation. What's a little extortion in the name of art?

You know it's wrong to delay this ugly process. How close relief is should you simply sign the papers. But it's another failure, another black spot in your life's ledger. Another dream crushed beneath the boot of reality. With a wave of bitterness, you type out a curt reply, ensuring you will sign the papers and ask them to arrange for a courier tomorrow.

Naomi's suggestion takes advantage of your mind's lethargy, testing the strength of your will and stubbornness. The last time you phoned your mother was months ago, on the anniversary of dad's death. The old man took his last bow five years back, and it destroyed the last bridge between you and your formidable mother. In retirement, she still holds court with major political players stateside…and across the pond.

Before you let your loathing catch up, you pull up her contact card and dial. It's after noon in D.C., the middle of the week. You might get lucky and reach her voice–

"Is everything alright? You're not in the hospital, are you?" Her donnish, sharp voice hurtles you through time and space to your teenage years. 

"No," You answer with gritted teeth. A headache waits in the wings. "No, I'm fine, mom."

"Then why are you calling?"

This is why dad handled conversations. You stand, swiftly shutting the door to your office and locking it. "Can't I just call my mom?"

"Of course. Historically, you do not," There's a low murmur of chatter in the background. She's at a luncheon or at the club. "So I assume there is a reason."

Having an ex-ambassador for a mother is a joke. All that practised charm for everyone else in the world, none of it reserved for you. "Okay, yes, there is a reason."

"Thought so. Well, darling, what is it? Is it James? Don't tell me you're pregnant."

You return to your desk and eye the bottle of bourbon on the corner. "No. James and I are divorcing, remember? This is about my work."

There is no acknowledgement of the separation. Instead, your mother pulls the phone away from her mouth, excuses herself from wherever she is, and the background noise dissipates. 

"Your work."

"Yes, the Bramble? Look, we're two weeks out from our big annual fundraiser, and–"

"Oh, you need me to write a check." The clicking of her heels halts abruptly, and if you didn't know any better, she wilts. "Fine. How much do you want?"

Your face heats with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. "I am not asking for money. If you would stop interrupting me…Ugh, mom, I need help contacting some of your old friends here. If there's anyone you know looking for tax deductions or a pet project to brag about, the Bramble is in a bad spot financially."

In the past, whenever the theatre and, by extension, your chosen profession came up, your mother took the opportunity to lecture. She reminded you of the wasted opportunities she afforded you. She brought up your old schoolmates and their current positions. And most insulting of all, she always, always compared you to a certain soldier. Bracing yourself for her monologuing, you reached for the bottle.

"Why didn't you open with that, darling?"

Your fingers close around empty air, and you nearly pitch out of your seat in surprise. "What?"

"Send me the information. I've been meaning to reconnect with some old friends. When is the fundraiser?"

"In two weeks," You repeat, scrambling to pull up your email on the ancient desktop. "Tickets are–"

"Email it. I'll book my flights today and let you know when I'm getting in."

Your hands hover over the keyboard, and your neck protests the angle it bends to keep your phone lodged between ear and shoulder. "Oh, no, mom, you don't need to come."

"Nonsense. I'll, of course, make my own donation, and as a donor, I ought to see where my money is going."

Christ. For the Bramble, you remind yourself and exhale. "Okay. You do that. Listen, I have to get going…but mom?" It kills you to say it. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome. Oh, this will be so much fun. I haven't visited since before your father. You know, on the topic of reconnecting, I happened get an email from the Prices the other day, and John–"

There it is. You kick into fourth gear, rattling off your exit. "I've really got to run. Thanks again mom, send me your flight info. Love you. Bye!"

You feel like you've run a marathon and dodged a bullet. And yet, as you send the email and file the waivers, your mind snags on your mother's words. On a name. His name. It's not the first time your unhelpful brain's waylaid you with a trip down memory lane. Admittedly, it's happened more since James asked for the divorce. Most nights, if it isn't life's stresses hounding you, it's an endless parade of what-ifs behind your eyelids.

What if you studied economics instead? What if you stayed in America? What if you hadn't gone to that stupid New Year's party? What if you hadn't kissed John? If you didn't get on the train? 

The people in your circle frequently speak about living life without regrets. It's a romantic notion and a highly unrealistic one.

Your phone buzzes—Naomi. You're needed. Pushing the past where it belongs, back on a dark shelf, and head out to put out another fire. 

~~ 

Three days before the fundraiser, your mother lands in London and hosts you at her hotel for dinner. Playing catch-up is a professional sport with a whirlwind of names you barely remember and memories you remember very differently.

You pick at dessert, listening to another story.

"–and he was so insistent that that school of yours was a breeding ground for monsters, and I told him, isn't that what's needed in today's society? People need thick skin in politics and business. You'll be happy to know, though, he bought four tickets to the fundraiser."

You don't remember who you're talking about but smile and nod. It's a tough pill to swallow, your mother's success at rallying old friends with deep pockets. Teddy's practically in love with her despite having never met her, popping his bald head into your office to sing her praises whenever another pledge arrives.

Your response is rote. "That's wonderful, mom. Thank you."

She prattles on for another half hour before you decide it's time to return home to Hamhock and burn the midnight oil on the fundraiser's date auction. You asked the company for fifty-word bios and actors, bless them, struggle to contain their self-praises. When she finally pauses to take a sip of wine, you rise. "I should head home, lots to do–"

Ignoring you outright, her head turns, and she grins. "There you are!"

Following her gaze, your brow lowers in confusion until you clap eyes on a trio headed in your direction in the company of a server. Very briefly, you consider the melodramatics of matricide. You've been set up.

Mr. and Mrs. Price look well for their age, puttering toward your mother. They are greyer and a little shorter, but the warmth is there.

John, however…

The universe is intent on humbling you.

The hair is the first thing you notice. Short, kempt, and annoyingly a dark shade of brown. It's crept southward onto his face in a beard of a choice style. There is comfort in the finer details that clarify as he nears. He hasn't escaped time's passing with a face marked by crow's feet, frown lines, and forehead furrows. Beneath his shirt, there's a slight suggestion of a belly, though, with his thick arms and the narrowing of his waist, he's clearly a wall of muscle.

The worst part is how infuriatingly kind his smile looks. It's the beard. Softens him. Once an arrogant prick, always an arrogant prick.

John rumbles your name in a whisper, reeling you in for a polite peck on the cheek. "You're a sight for sore eyes."

You're years beyond fifteen and twenty-five, but how swiftly the impulse to snark resurfaces is alarming. Maturity tempers you. "You look good, too."

After a few minutes of greetings, the two of you are tasked with heading to the bar to fetch drinks. Wholly unnecessary what with a server, but it's a clear command to let the 'adults' talk for a spell. Nevermind being shy of forty. John's quick to try conversation when the order's in.

"You haven't changed a bit," He observes, leaning against the bar beside you. 

"Now there's something a woman wants to hear after a decade." You huff, casting your eyes across the restaurant, finding it difficult to look at him. The dark blue of his sweater makes his eyes pop.

"Fourteen years, actually," He corrects. "Drinking martinis, actin'…"

You snort. "You're half right. The Martini half."

His elbow gently knocks into yours atop the bar. "Apologies. My mother told me you'd been in My Fair Lady last summer."

That draws your attention. "No. The theater put it on, but I'm the stage manager. I haven't been on stage in ages." Your eyes flicker to the table, then back to him. Heat crawls up your collar. What other information has your mother passed along? Glancing down at your bare ring finger, you turn the conversation. "Not so different from a Captain, I reckon. How's that going?"

John squints a little, and his mouth pulls into a familiar smirk, tugging at old strings in your stomach. "Can't complain."

"Riveting stuff," He chuckles at that, a deep rasping sound, and you find yourself grinning. "Don't suppose that bit of clandestine, secret agent-type shit your mom's talked about?"

"Secret agent?"

"Yeah. Mentioned it in a Christmas card maybe three years ago?" You smile triumphantly into your glass. Seems both your mothers have a penchant for dressing up the truth.

His jaw works a tick, and something heavy passes behind his eyes. "Well, 'm not. Not exactly."

"Let me guess. If you told me, you'd have to kill me?"

He refocuses some, and a short laugh leaves him. "Something like that."

It's all painfully familiar, but it feels different with a little more life under your belt. His mere presence keeps you on your toes, yet you haven't felt this comfortable in months. For all the history and tension, talking to him is easy. A silence passes, the drinks arrive, and you ferry them to the table.

The night passes better than you expected when you first saw the Prices. They express belated condolences over your father, you chat about the fundraiser, and John politely navigates questions about his work. It frightens you when he briefly mentions Piccadilly to know he'd been there in the carnage. Part and parcel of military life, you guess. 

"John, be a gentleman and walk her to the station," His mother chides as the five of you congregate in the hotel lobby.

"He doesn't need to do that," You hastily say. Not again.

"'Course."

There is something dreadfully giddy to how your parents wish you both goodnight.

At least you do not need to take his arm this time. Still, there is no way John isn't thinking about that night. Not when that look of quiet desperation he wore is seared within your memory. It's silly, but you peeked at his hands earlier, and like yours, they're naked.

You break the silence to fish. "How long are you on leave?"

"A week. Got in yesterday."

"Do you normally visit your parents?"

"Often."

Doesn't mean there isn't a woman in his life. 'Often' is not 'always'. 

"Visit anyone else? Friends?"

He chuckles. "Sometimes."

You roll your eyes. "You know, you haven't changed much either. Aside from the beard and smoker's lung. Still a stunning conversationalist."

John smirks down at you. "Picked it up in the army."

Oh, yes. He remembers.

The conversation lulls, and the walk is short. You figure John's keen on a repeat when he wordlessly escorts you to the platform. But today's not a holiday, and the station is reasonably busy. He watches like a hawk, nonetheless, when you check the time.

"Brings back memories," He quietly comments.

Nodding, your thumb rubs where your wedding band used to rest. "Sure does." You respond and meet his gaze.

You studied theater, moved back to London, went to the party, and kissed John. You didn't regret those choices—only one.

The invitation flies out of you as your train emerges from the tunnel.

"Do you want to meet Hamhock?"

~~

"He's…certainly orange."

"Don't rush to spend all your compliments at once," You glare, arms full of Ham, then coo at the cat. "John's jealous because he's going grey in the beard."

"I am not."

"Saw them on the Tube. Can't those from me," You tease and set the cat down, giving your kitchen a quick glance. A silver lining of work eating up your schedule is that you last cleaned two weeks ago, and it's held.

"What're those on your head then?" He gestures with a finger and toes off his shoes. 

"Details of a person ageing gracefully." You play it confidently, but part of you holds a breath.

He hums and sidesteps Hamhock. "Suits you. It's pretty."

Maybe inviting him over is a mistake. The bolt that runs through you from the compliment pokes at something you thought buried. "What a gentleman," You try to inject as much sarcasm as possible, but your voice quivers. "I'll be right back. Sit tight?"

You leave John in the kitchen to retreat to the bathroom to regroup. Come on, you scold yourself over the basin for getting worked up. It's just John. 

And yet, what remains of your confidence perches on a cliffside at the sight of John pointedly staring at the folder of your copies of the divorce papers on the counter. Fantastic.

His small smile is genuinely sympathetic. It's enraging.

"Y'know, I knew you were married…When I didn't see a ring at the hotel, though, I wondered."

Your chest tightens, and you shove the folder into a bookshelf. "Yep. Finalized the divorce two-ish weeks ago."

You're not in the mood to be reminded of your failures.

"Sorry it didn't work out," John murmurs.

"That's life. That's how it works sometimes," You exhale, then force a smile. "Want a drink? Bourbon? Wine?"

He lets you change the subject, and you let him have a glass of whiskey.

You sit on opposite ends of your short couch, Hamhock acting as a gentlemanly barrier. The conversation rekindles itself after a few fingers of liquor, and eventually, John migrates to the floor, idly playing with the cat. You confide in him about your worries about the event and whether the funds raised will be enough, and he listens. There is no condescension, no bulldozing. Not a trace of smugness at all when he makes suggestions. You don't realize how you've slipped into an old, practically ancient formation until he peers back, eyes creasing from laughter. You're fifteen again, and it is useless to deny it – you are regrettably in love with John Price.

"Can I confess something?" He suddenly asks as your cat waddles off with a catnip toy in his mouth.

Your heart lurches. "If it's a crime, I'm a terrible conspirator." 

"No. Nothin' like that, but I lied earlier." He chuckles, craning his neck to look over his shoulder. "My mother didn't tell me about My Fair Lady."

"What do you mean?"

John turns sheepish. "I came an' saw it when I was on leave last summer. Thought I'd surprise you, but I got to the theater and lost my nerve."

Instantly, you pick through scraps of memories from the production. There is no way you would have known he was in attendance, not with how hellishly busy you are. 

"You, Captain John Price, lost your nerve?"

Color blooms high on his cheeks, and he turns on the floor, rubbing his neck. "I knew you're not acting but I didn't know how to mention it without soundin' like a prick." His eyes look soft. Different from how they looked that night in his parent's garden. Steady, unwavering, but soft. "I know I'm not good with words. I seem to have a talent for making you angry. But I really am happy to see you. Didn't think I'd get another chance after how I bungled it all those years ago at the train–"

At your grown ages, the angle of the kiss is inadvisable. The two of you fix it without parting, and his hands cup your face when you're finally standing toe-to-toe. 

He touches your foreheads together when breathing becomes necessary. "Change anything?"

You don't answer. You lead him to your bedroom and exile the cat.

~~

The fundraiser goes off with a predictable amount of hitches. The caterer is an hour late and forgets half the hors d'oeuvres. The bar runs out of red wine early. Two actors from the children's company slap-fight on stage. Nothing you, Naomi, and Teddy can't fix with elbow grease and stage magic. The caterers re-course. Naomi calls in a favor from her bartender girlfriend. And the children forget their quarrel when they're called upon to defeat Captain Hook.

What you are not prepared for is one of the actors calling out sick, leaving you one date short for the auction. You waste an hour trying to convince one of your fellow techies to step in.

Naomi corners you when you stress-eat a comically tiny piece of toast swiped from a tray. 

"You know, if one person is all we need…"

"Your girlfriend won't be mad?"

"Ha-ha, don't get cheeky. C'mon, isn't it time you got back out there?" 

You suppress a smug smile. Naomi has no idea. Nobody does. You've gotten back out there and then some. 

"Did I not tell you I was grossed out by the auction?"

She's relentless. "Are you really so proud you wouldn't debase yourself a little for the Bramble?"

"Absolutely not."

You'd said it with such conviction, so it's a puzzle when you find yourself waiting in the stage wing, makeup hurriedly refreshed. It takes all your courage and grace not to stumble to Teddy's side when he calls your name. He improvises an introduction on the fly, and you nearly laugh when you realize this is the first time you've been on the stage, under a spotlight, in years.

The bidding opens, and you hold your breath, letting it go when a few unfamiliar voices call out numbers. A humbling embarrassment clutches you by the throat. But then a paddle raises more confidently in the front row. The light is bright, but you know whose hand hoists it high.

~~

He collects you at the end of the night as you lock up.

"There's my prize."

You can't stop the grin that splits your face. "It's just a date, John."

"Yeah, doin' things a bit out of order, aren't we?" A glimmer of his younger, puffed-up self shines through, and his hand envelops yours.

As you walk, your elbow digs into his ribs, "What will our mothers say?"

"That a big deal to you?"

"To some people."

"Well, love, you're not 'some people'."

[specialagentlokitty]

Patrick Jane x reader - treat you right

Hi! Can you do a Patrick Jane x reader where they're working on a case and the reader keeps getting hit on and it makes her very uncomfortable and Jane is being super protective of her? - Anon💜

You didn’t hate many things, in fact, the list was incredibly small, only one thing on it, and that was sleazy bars.

And unfortunately for the sake of this case, it’s where you had to go in order to try and find some answers.

So you and Patrick were standing outside it as you looked at the door with a frown on your face.

“You don’t have to come inside.” He said.

“You’ll get yourself punched in the face if I leave you in attended.”

Patrick laughed a little and he nodded his head, walking into the bar first he held the door open for you and you looked around.

“Right, you take the bar, I’ll take these few tables.” You said.

“You sure? We can go around together. I know you don’t like these places and you’re already uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry. Just work.”

He frowned but nodded his head, making his way to the bar and you walked over to a table with a few bikers sat at it.

“Hey gentlemen, Agent (L/N) with the CBI, I was wondering if I could ask a few questions?”

“You got a badge?” One asked.

“Yes sir.”

You showed him your badge and let them look at it before they handed it over and nodded.

You spoke to them for a few minutes, writing down everything they said before doing to the next table of more bikers and finally the last table of young men.

“Agent (Y/N), CBI. Can I ask you some questions?”

“Sure pretty lady.” One grinned.

You ignored his comment and began asking the same questions and when you realised they weren’t going to be much help you stopped.

“Thanks guys.”

You turned around.

“You want a drink?” One asked.

“No thank you.”

Walking over to the bar, you stood next to Patrick who was talking to the bartender and one of the men walked over, standing next to you.

“How about a drink when you’re not working?”

“No.”

“Aw not even one?”

You glanced at him.

“I will arrest your for harassment.”

“Maybe I’d like that, you’re hot. Maybe I want you to arrest me.”

You shuffled a little closer to Patrick and he placed a hand on your wrist, moving you on the other side of him, and the men went to follow you.

Patrick turned around, standing in front of you.

“She said no. Stop harassing her.”

“Oh who are you her boyfriend? Get lost.”

Patrick looked the man up and down.

“Look, I get it. You’re girlfriend left you, I can’t say I blame her since apparently you don’t know who to treat a woman right. I suggest you leave.”

“Or what?”

Patrick glanced around the bar.

“You’ve gained the attention of every man in this bar, and I kind of want to punch you in the face.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t.”

Patrick turned around and looked at you, and you gave a small sign.

“I’m fine…”

“You’re not…” he whispered.

“Come on babe, just a drink! Let loose a little don’t be such a bitch!”

Patrick pursed his lips together and he turned around, in one swing he punched the man, knocking him back a few steps.

“Oh you asshole!”

The man went to hit him back but was stopped by a few other men dragging him out the bar and throwing him to the ground.

Patrick turned to look at you.

“Don’t tell Lisbon?” He grinned a little.

You turned to the bar tender.

“Is there a back exit we can use?”

“Course yeah, follow me.”

He led you through and you walked back to the car, Patrick trailing behind you.

Resting your back against the door, you held your hand out to him and he gave you his hand.

“It’s fine. Doesn’t even hurt.”

You said nothing, and carried on inspecting his hand before you let it go.

Looking up at him, you sighed softly.

“You can’t just punch people.”

“He called you a bitch, and he was making you uncomfortable.”

“That’s no reason to punch him Patrick.”

You sighed again, shaking your head and smiled, walking over you hugged him, and he froze for a second before quickly hugging you back.

“But thanks.”

“I’ll punch anyone you want me to.” He beamed.

You pulled away and pointed at him.

“You absolutely will not Patrick Jane.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, I won’t punch anyone else.” He laughed.

Patrick smiled down at you.

“You’re okay though, really?”

“Really. Thanks to you.”

He nodded and smiled at you, opening the car door for you to get in before closing it and getting into the passenger side.

He glanced at you, still smiling.

You deserved the world, someone to treat you like a queen, and he wanted to do that for you.

He just needed you to finally stop being so oblivious and to see that

[justagirlwholikesadam]

The Wolf Among Men

WARNING: RATED M, Death, Mention of Rape, Attempt Rape, Violence, Witchcraft, Themes of Religion, Miscarriage, Shapeshifting, Worship, BLOOD BLOOD

A/N: I'm so sorry for the long wait!! Thank you for everyone who liked and commented on this story. I'm so happy you guys are liking it. Remember to comment and like. PLEASE READ THE WARNING TAGS BEFORE READING! Enjoy - L

Summary: Jon was told that his eldest sister, Y/n arrived to Castle Black. He was surprised when Y/n arrived with The Hound, Sandor Clegane.

Word Count: 13K

━ ◦ ❖ ◦━ Chapter Five

“Killing is the sweetest thing there is.” Sandor told Sansa once. 

He remembered it as he stood by the edge of the courtyard of the East Watch. It was the afternoon of the duel and everyone stood around except six men. They stood in the middle of the yard as they stared at Sandor. Each of them held their weapons. They were supposedly the ‘greatest fighters’ in the Night Watch and they wanted to bring justice for their deceased brothers. They had a council on how to deal with this matter. They threw ideas around about your punishment and what should be done. Some said that you should be kept in a cage while others said you should be hanged. 

“A duel to the death.” One of them shouted and the rest agreed. 

The men who wanted you dead picked these six to duel Sandor. Jon had wanted to fight and so did the rest of the group but Sandor refused. 

“She’s my woman. I’ll defend her honor.” 

He glances up to see Beric and Thoros standing outside your door. Thoros gave him a nod as he leaned over the railing. Sandor had asked them to stay put, he didn’t trust the men of the Night Watch even though they had agreed if he won no harm would come to you. He knew deep down that someone might get angry about the outcome and will try to kill you either way. He gripped the handle of his sword tight and took a deep breath. It’s been so long since he killed someone alive. Jon watches by the sideline with Ser Davos and Daenerys. Jon had accepted the proposal to have a duel in the courtyard and settle this once and for all. The moment Jon nodded at them to start, they advanced. Sandor rammed his sword into a man’s stomach while another came running behind him. Sandor was taller, more built and he was far more experienced. These were criminals who were just trained to keep watch and how to swing a sword but none of them had actually fought in a battle. The ones who had fought didn’t participate in the duel since they knew about Sandor. They were the smart ones. 

The man behind Sandor was just a few seconds away from hitting Sandor’s back when Sandor stepped away quickly. Letting out a grunt, Sandor swung his sword with all his might. Daenerys flinched when Sandor completely beheaded the men in one blow. Sandor can smell the scent of blood lingering in the cold air. He can feel the sweat dripping down his back. All he thought about was just four more to go and he’s able to go back to your room and wait for you to wake up. 

“She’s a monster.” One of them told him. 

“She’ll kill you too.” Sandor clenched his jaw as the men shouted.  He didn't listen to them, he wouldn't get distracted by their lies. 

One of them finally had the balls to step forward and tried to take a swing but Sandor blocked it and knocked the sword out of their hands. Ser Davos and Daenerys saw Jon step forward when one of them managed to catch Sandor by surprise. While Jon had a worried face throughout the fight. Tormund stared at awe when Sandor had punched one of them in the face, sending them down to the ground. 

The only one remaining had begun to pant, his arm was wounded and his head was bleeding. He kept looking down to see his dead brothers. Sandor had sliced one of their stomachs open, intestines and blood stained the snow on the ground.  His brown eyes darkened when he saw the last man standing. Sandor spit on the ground, one of them managed to punch him. Sandor started to walk towards him passing by the man who punched him. Sandor can hear the sound of gurgling coming from him. Sandor had sliced his throat making him choke in his own blood. 

The last man standing let out a whine as Sandor raised his sword and stabbed the choking man in the chest, killing him. Sandor did not even look at the man below him when he stabbed him through the heart. He kept his gaze on the last man. Sandor had seen tons of scared faces of the people he killed. Some begged for mercy while others just cried and there were a few who just cursed at him before killing them. This one held a face of defeat, the last man standing knew he wasn’t going to get out of this alive. He laughed to himself when he thought back on how the six of them thought they were going to kill the infamous Sandor Clegane. 

Jon and Ser Davos watched as Sandor embedded his sword in the man’s chest. Jon knew Sandor was a good fighter but he honestly didn’t think Sandor was going to survive a duel against six to one. Sandor Clegane lived up to the title of one of the most dangerous and best fighters in Westeros. 

Sandor looked at the bodies on the ground before looking ahead. 

“Anyone else?” He shouted with a huff. 

“Is there anyone else?” Sandor growled looking at the crowd. They all backed away from him. 

Sandor cast a look at Jon. “Duel is over. Sandor had won. Y/n Stark of Winterfell will not be punished.” Jon spoke out. 

Sandor was about to walk away when he heard a shout behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see an older man yelling as he ran towards him with a knife in his hand. Sandor could have easily swung his sword and stop him but something snapped in him. He was fucking annoyed now, furious because he just won and people were still mad. He dropped his sword and decided he was going to end this man with his hands. Sandor was much quicker and grabbed his wrist, twisting it making the older man drop his knife. He can hear people yelling around and Jon’s voice telling them to stop. The old man didn't stand a chance, Sandor had pushed him to the ground and got on him. Punching him in the face until he felt Jon and Ser Davos behind him. The old man cried for mercy but Sandor ignored it. 

“Enough, Sandor.” He felt Jon’s hand on his shoulder. 

“Get back to my sister.” Jon told him as Sandor stood up walking away from the scene. The older man was dragged away as Sandor walked up the steps to your room. 

----

He didn’t like being away from you. He hated it, not being able to see or feel you but he knew Beric and Thoros would keep their promise. 

“Keep her safe. Out of harm.” He told them on their last night in the East Watch. Thoros and Beric had sworn their life to Sandor that they will keep you safe. 

He had come up the steps after going down the deck to check if the wight was still alive to present to Queen Cersei. He took a deep breath as he stood by the railing, smelling the ocean air. He looked over at the port coming in view. 

He’s back again at the shit city, King’s Landing. The only thought Sandor had when he saw the port of King’s Landing was his brother. The news of his brother's match with Oberyn was brought to him and the small hope that his brother was finally gone flew away when they said the new Grand Maester Qyburn had done unethical experiments on his brother and brought him back as something else. Something sinister, one of the workers on the loading dock told Sandor when they boarded off the ship. 

Sandor didn’t care what became of his brother either way Sandor was gonna kill him. 

Sandor was walking near the wagon that contained the wight when he saw Brienne. He cursed under his breath when he noticed the tall woman staring at him and waited for him to get closer to her. 

“Thought you were dead.” Brienne said as she walked alongside him. 

“Not yet. You came pretty close.” Sandor replied bluntly. 

Brienne let out a huff and said. “I was only trying to protect Y/n Stark. I didn’t know.” 

“Didn’t know what?” Sandor asked. 

“I didn’t know she loved you.” Brienne’s words made him stop and look at her. 

“Sansa told me.” Sandor frowned as they started to walk again. 

“Sansa sent a raven to me. People think Y/n is dead. House Stark wanted to keep it that way in case of anything. Y/n wanted you to know that she’s home, she’s waiting for you and that she loves you.” Sandor felt a weight come off his shoulders when Brienne told him you were safe. 

“That’s good.” Sandor said with a nod. Brienne bit the inside of her cheek to not smile when she saw Sandor’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink. Brienne couldn’t believe it herself but the way Sandor’s eyes widened when she told him you were safe and you love him was all the evidence she needed that it was true. 

“She wrote anything else?” Sandor asked. 

“Arya is at Winterfell.” The weight just came back on his shoulders. He had no doubt that the youngest Stark sister was out for him.

“You said House Stark wants to keep the news of Y/n being alive quiet? Brienne nodded. 

“That’s right.” 

“What makes you think everyone in Winterfell will keep their mouth shut about it? They can sell this information.” Brienne ponders on the question. She starts feeling uneasy when she realizes he’s right. 

At that moment Brienne did a small prayer. Praying to the Gods that no one will do no such a thing. 

It wasn’t one of the guards telling the Starks that you were going to arrive or a raven. It was Bran. He had seen you coming to Winterfell and he told his sisters about it. He told them the moment that Arya saw him staring out the window of the Winterfell’s dining hall. Sansa and Arya were dumbfounded when Bran had said he saw you.

Bran had ordered a flock of servants to have your things ready and start preparing for your arrival. Sansa and Arya were shocked when their younger brother started to order around. He was acting like he was Lord of Winterfell, a title he had given up. Since he came back to Winterfell he was quiet, unemotional and just odd. 

Sansa kneels in front of Bran and asks him to clarify what he saw. The only thing Bran told her was, “She’s coming home.” 

A few days later Sansa, Arya and Bran were waiting in the courtyard. Everyone was there and after 10 minutes had passed, Sansa looked down at Bran, who had made everyone stand outside.  

“Are you sure she’s coming?” Sansa asked. 

“Perhaps, your brother should be brought up to his room. He is probably in need of rest.” Lord Baelish commented behind Sansa. Bran looks away from him and continues to stare ahead. 

“She’s here.” Bran said and everyone looked ahead to see the gates opening. Ghost was the first one in, he was running inside with Beric, Thoros and you riding behind. 

Arya held her breath when she saw three people riding in. The moment she saw her sister’s face, she heard commotions behind her. People were whispering and others started to cry. The eldest daughter of Ned has finally come home. 

Sansa dropped her mouth open when she saw her sister riding in. You got off your horse and stood still for a moment. Winterfell hasn’t changed. Looking ahead at Sansa who started to walk towards you, you quickly ran to catch up to her. 

Thoros and Beric got off their horse to see you hugging Sansa. Ghost had walked up to Bran, sitting near him. Sansa was the first to cry, her sobs were loud enough for the courtyard to hear. You looked over her shoulder to see Arya standing next to Bran. Her dark eyes wide and her brows knitted together as she tried her best to not cry. 

“Arya. Bran.” You cried out. Sansa held your hand as both of you walked towards them. 

Not a single eye was dry in the courtyard. People from Wintertown and Winterfell smiled as the Stark siblings were united again. They watched as you leaned down to kiss Bran’s cheek and Arya’s forehead. 

“Never again will we part.” You said looking at your siblings

“The Starks will stick together. No matter what. This is our home.” Arya and Sansa smiled at you. 

“And I intend to keep it that way.” Lord Baelish keeps quiet as he watches you hug your siblings one more time before hugging the servants who remained loyal to House Stark. Lord Royce who was near him walked ahead to welcome you back home. 

Sansa and you walked inside the castle with your arms intertwined. Each step you took reminded you of every memory you held dear to you. Laughter of your family echoed in the halls. Memories of your family came at you and wrapped around you offering the sense of warmth. 

“I believe it's right that you should take Father and Mother’s bed chambers.” Sansa told you as she walked beside you to the room. 

“Jon offered it to me but I couldn't take it. I was still holding out hope that you were alive.” 

Sansa opened the door for you and you walked inside. Sansa watched as you walked over to the fireplace, touching the stone wall, looking at the large bed filled with fur blankets and feather pillows. Thick wool blankets around the furniture and the vanity your mother used when getting ready. The news spread around the castle of the return of you. A celebration dinner was an order, servants ran around preparing dinner and cleaning the dining hall. The eldest Stark had finally returned home, alive. Everyone wanted to see you. 

Sansa couldn’t drop her smile as she walked towards your room once more. She had left you to get ready. She knocked on your door, a young servant opened the door allowing her to walk in. You were sitting in front of the vanity with a robe. 

“Allow me.” She told one of the servants who was about to brush your hair. You gave a smile to Sansa through the mirror. 

“Leave us, please.” Sansa commanded them to go. You waited to be alone to speak. 

“You're glowing, Sansa.” You told her. Sansa’s red hair was longer, she had grown taller, she was the perfect picture of beauty. She looked so much like mother. 

“Being the Lady of Winterfell is a good look on you.” Sansa carefully brushed out the knot of your hair. 

“You’re the Lady of Winterfell now. You’re the eldest. I have done the best I can.” You were about to speak when there was a knock on the door. 

“Come in.” You shouted. The door opened showing Bran and Arya, she pushed the wheelchair inside your room. Sansa had walked towards Arya shooting next to her on the bed while Bran sat near the fireplace. You looked around at them. 

“What happened to you? How are you alive?” Ayra was the first to speak. 

Bran knew what you were going to say, he had seen it. He and your sisters listened to every word you said,  you told them about escaping King’s Landing with Sandor. Ayra’s eyes harden everytime the name Sandor was brought up.  

Arya didn't want to believe it. You had fallen in love with the man that killed her friend but the way you cried when telling them how Sandor got hurt made her hatred towards him complicated. You showed your sibling the scar on your hand, Sansa cried as she traced the healed scar while you told them how you got it. You didn’t notice the face Bran made when he saw the scar, his hands on his lap clenched around. 

Arya felt her stomach in knots when you told them how you felt ill during your trip to see Jon. She blinked away the tears when you told them you were with child during your death. 

“Are you serious?” Sansa asked when you told her the same priestess who brought Jon alive had brought you back as well in exchange for the life of your child. 

“I came back as something else, though.” You told them nervously. 

“Do not be ashamed.” Bran spoke as he looked at you. 

“You are still our sister and you are still a Stark. You are still Y/n to us.” Arya and Sansa’s eyes widened when you told them that you have the ability of transforming into an animal, into a wolf. 

“I believe you.” Arya said as she looked up and down at you. 

“Do you?” You asked her unsure. Arya got off of the bed and walked towards you. 

“Would you believe me if I told you I’m the Faceless man and our brother is the Three-Eyed Raven?” You looked at Arya and Bran. 

Music and laughter filled the dining hall that evening. You were sitting at the head of the table with your siblings sitting next to you. You haven’t felt this good in a while. You were cleaned, you didn’t smell like sweat and dirt. You wore your traditional northern clothes and your hair was braided. You stared ahead to see Thoros and Beric eating along with a few soldiers, you let out a small smile to see them content.

Still staring at them you didn’t notice Lord Baelish walking towards the table. It was Sansa who greeted him that made you look at him. You gave a tight lipped smile when you welcomed you back home. 

“It’s good to be back home, Lord Baelish. I mean to say Lord Protector of the Vale.” You said, Sansa had filled you in about Petyr. He stared at you for a moment before he nodded at you. You sat straight up when you felt a pain in your spine. It was sudden and brief, you kept staring at him. You recalled what Sansa had told you. He practically sold her off to the Boltons before killing Aunt Lysa. 

“I suppose since you arrived back home. That makes you Lady of Winterfell.” You were about to speak when Sansa spoke out first. 

“She indeed is. Y/n is the eldest after all. Is there a problem with that?” Lord Baelish let out a smile and shook his head. 

“Of course not, Lady Sansa.” He said before excusing himself. You watched him leave before looking back at your plate. You haven’t given thought about the title of Lady of Winterfell since you arrived. You were thinking about Sandor and Jon. Thinking about the war coming but most of all you were thinking about Ramsey. Your mouth grew dry as you kept thinking about him and his death. You started to feel your gums tingle, your back began to ache. 

Sansa had taken a sip of her wine when she noticed you in the corner of her eye. She placed the cup down and leaned towards you when she saw your hands were slightly trembling. You felt Sansa hands on you, looking over at her. She held a worried expression on her face. 

Looking at her eyes, her blue eyes reminded you of your mother. Your chest grew heavy at the thought of Little Finger with her. Your mother had told you that she was close with him when younger and his affections grew for her. Now that she was dead, his affection grew on Sansa. It made your blood boil at the very thought of it. 

Giving her a gentle squeeze assuring her that you’re fine. 

“I’ll be back. Need some air.” You whispered to her behind raising up from your chair. 

“I’ll go with you.” Sansa told you, she was about to get up as well when you shook your head. 

“Don’t worry. It’s only for a moment.” Arya looked over and raised an eyebrow at Sansa. She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders at her younger sister. 

You greedily breathe in the cold into your lungs the moment you step outside.

 ‘Relax. Relax.’ You kept yelling to yourself. You let out a grunt when you felt your back arch once more. You knelt to the ground, your hands gripping on the wooden railing of the second floor. Staring out in the courtyard, you tried your best to relax. Your anger was getting the best of you. You couldn’t transform at this moment. 

The snow on the wooden railing was melting under your touch, you grew warm as each second passed. This new ability had changed you completely and at first you thought it was just lies. You were sitting with Beric and Thoros after riding a few miles from the East Watch when they spoke more about this new ability. Thoros has asked you if you felt different since you woke up. 

You were different now, absolutely different. You had told him before listing everything you noticed. You were able to hear and see better. You weren’t as cold as before. 

“Stronger.” Thoros added before retelling you what they saw in the dining hall of the East Watch. You were able to push Sandor, practically almost pushing him over when he tried to touch you. 

“Uncontrollable temper.” Beric said and you agreed with him. 

So much hate, so much want for revenge, it molted deep inside of you and you just wanted to let it out. You wanted to kill those who wronged you, who wronged House Stark and something inside of you was yearning to see them dead, to see their bloody corpse under your feet. To hear their cries and the sound of their hearts beating rapidly in fear made you giddy. 

Your shoulders twitched as you continued your best to relax yourself. You wished for his warmth, for his scent, the only person who seemed to get you to relax. You shut your eyes shut tightly as you thought of him. His lips against your bare skin and his touch, his large fingers gliding up and down your body. His deep voice when he calls out your name but most of all you missed looking up at his beautiful brown eyes. 

“Sandor.” You whispered his name in the wind. 

Saying his name covered you like a blanket. It almost felt like he was holding you like on the last night together at the East Watch. Taking another deep breath, your eyes shot open when you heard someone walking by. You can hear the snow crunching under their steps and their teeth chattering because of the cold.

You saw the person was covered in a thin cape, their covered figure walking towards the dog’s kennel. You looked at them and it filled you with curiosity. Carefully you rose up trying your best not to make a sound. The person was oblivious of their surroundings, they didn't notice you following them. Too busy trying to pick the lock out of the front door of the kennel. You noticed they held a small satchel close to their chest. 

As the door opened, you carefully watched by the doorway when the person made their way inside. Some of the hounds bark while the person walks to a cage. You can hear their soft hush while they sat next to a wounded Ramsey. Your eyes widened and a smile appeared on your face. You found him. 

The person was a woman, you can hear her talking to him but Ramsey gave no response. He was injured badly. You stayed hidden behind the walls of the dog’s kennel when the woman finished feeding him. She looked both ways before leaving and you managed to get a look of her face.

It was night time and the celebration was over. The dining hall was empty except for your siblings and you. Sitting around the table everyone shared a pitcher of wine.  There was so much to be said, everyone’s experience after what had happened when the Starks left to go to King's Landing. 

“Seven hells.” You said when Arya finished telling everyone about her journey at the House of Black and White in Braavos. She had disguised herself as a boy throughout her whole trip after the execution of Ned Stark. She mentioned how fortunate she was to meet a farmer and his daughter on the road. They gave her a ride to a dock where she got into a ship. She learned the ways of the faceless man and she got her revenge on House Frey and Meryn Trant. She heard what the Freys did and they all stood quiet when you told them what you saw that night in the Red Wedding. 

“Hodor would be missed.” You said after a moment of silence and looked over at Bran who was staring down at his lap. 

Bran had told everyone a brief summary of what had happened to him after Winterfell. It wasn’t much, but everyone knew it had changed him completely. The death of so many people who have sacrificed and helped him. 

“So you see the past?” You asked Bran. He nodded at you. 

“Do you see father?” You asked. 

“Sometimes.” Bran whispered. “Robb. Mother. Us when we were younger. I see a lot of Rickon.” With the years that have passed, their deaths still caused so much pain. Rickon’s death was still fresh in everyone’s mind. You long to see your little brother's face. The last time you saw Rickon was when you were comforting him. He was crying at the news that his sisters will be going to King's Landing with their father. You had promised him that you would bring him many toys and a real sword. 

“We should have never left home.” Sansa said. You finished your cup of wine in one gulp as you wiped the silent tears down your face. 

Arya and you walked out of Sansa chambers after putting her to bed. “She’s going to have one hell of a  headache tomorrow.” You agree with Arya on that as you walk her to her own chambers. Bran had left a while back to his own before Sansa had suggested a second pitcher. It was nice seeing Sansa happy even if she was a bit drunk. Her eyes shined and her smile never left her face. 

“I have something to tell you.” Arya said after stopping in front of her door. 

“What is it?” Arya’s face was flushed from the drinking. 

“It’s my fault that you died.” You frowned at her. 

“I wished you were dead when you saw me with the Brotherhood with Banners. I shouldn’t have said that.” You shushed Arya as you opened her door and walked with her inside. 

Pulling her towards the bed, you sat on the edge, bringing her to sit next to you. “You did not kill me, Arya. This wasn't your doing.” 

“It was. I shouldn’t.” You hugged your sister tight, trying your best to calm her down. 

“None of this is your fault. You were angry and I was a bad sister. I should have done better.” Arya shook her head at you. 

“Look at me.” You exclaimed to her. 

“I died because I was sick. I was tired, the stress was killing me and it didn’t help that I was with a child. My body wasn’t ready and it shut down.” 

“I thought the dog was taking care of you.” Arya spat out. The word Dog took you by surprise. You haven’t heard anyone calling Sandor that in a long time. 

Arya was surprised when you stood up from bed and crossed your arms over your chest. You looked down at her. 

“You will respect Sandor, Arya.” She was about to refuse when you continued on. 

“Joffrey commanded him to kill that boy. He was doing what the prince ordered him to do. I need you to understand that. I’m sorry your friend died. I’m sorry but it wasn’t Sandor’s fault.” 

“He could have sold me off, you know. Could have traded me for food or shelter. He never once made me feel uncomfortable, he never tried anything with me. I was the one to insinuate this relationship. He thought he wasn’t good enough. He thought I deserved better, but I wanted him, only him.” 

“You do know that people will ridicule you for this. For loving a second born son, for loving him. He has no land, no money, he's nobody compared to you. You’re Lady of Winterfell.” Arya spoke. 

“I don’t care. I love him. I trust him with my whole heart.” You told her.  You can see the disbelief in her eyes, they were wide as she thought about what you just said. 

“I’m alive because of him.” 

“You may be alive but as something else.” Arya added, making you roll your eyes. 

“I am alive because of him. I'm standing in front of you in the flesh and breathing. I wouldn’t be here today in front of you if it wasn’t for him and his decision.” You knelt in front of her, holding her hands with yours. 

“He doesn’t know the reason why I was brought back as a wolf. Jon and the red priestess don't know as well. Maybe we will never know but I have every tendency to use this gift, to use this new ability that I have to protect us. I shall protect my family and I shall protect my house.  I will be damned if our house gets betrayed again. Anyone who dares to fuck with us will answer to me. Will you help me?” 

Arya nodded at you. She leaned over to hug you before crying in your arms. Her cries for Ned and Catelyn filled the room, she cried about missing Rickon and Robb. You had forgotten that Arya was still a child. She acted grown and had the capacity to kick someone's ass but at the end of the day she was still a young girl who missed her family. 

You step out of her room after helping her into bed, you haven’t tucked your siblings in years. Robb or Jon were usually the one to help you. Walking down the hallways of Winterfell, you can hear Robb’s laughter. Rickon and Bran shouting in the courtyard as they chased one another. Your hand dragged across the stone walls as you kept walking back to your room. 

“I don’t like him.” Robb confined to you after King Robert walked with Ned to the crypts. 

“The king?” You asked him and he shook his head as both of you walked inside the castle. 

“Joffrey!” You nodded at your brother before letting out a sigh. Tugging the shawl around you when you saw Robb with an annoyed expression. 

“He’s something.” You whispered looking around making sure no was around. 

“I don’t trust him. I don’t like how Sansa  looks at him. Father was right to decline the marriage proposal between Joffrey and you but I have a feeling Robert may ask Sansa to step in.” 

“He’s nothing like Robert.” You said once you stood next to Robb and looked out to see Joffrey standing alongside with his mother. 

You froze in mid step when you stood in front of your bedroom. Joffrey was skinny and had fair skin like his mother. He had blonde hair like his uncle, Jamie. You quickly turned around head towards your brother’s chambers. There were always rumors about Cersei and her twin brother, Jamie. You heard some people had even gone as far as calling them the next Targaryen because of it. Your parents never spoke about it. “Rumors are just rumors.” Ned would say. 

Bran was sitting near the fireplace, his face was emotionless as he stared in the flames in front of him. He looked over his shoulder and answered when the door knocked. 

He raised a brow when you entered. “What happened to our father? Was it true?” 

Bran spoke about everything he saw. He noticed the look in your eye when he told you that Little Finger threatened him. Bran was quiet for a moment after he was done and kept staring at you almost like he was waiting for something to happen. 

“If you can see the future then you know what I’m going to do, right?” You asked him. 

Bran nods at you and you step closer to him. Kneeling down in front of him, you looked at him. “If I do it. If I choose this path will it jeopardize Winterfell?  Will Jon hate me? Will my family hate me?” 

His dark eyes watched as a single tear fell down. Bran leaned forward to wipe your tear away. “You’re a Stark and you will always be one. No matter what you do. Winterfell is yours. It has always been yours.” 

Before you can answer Bran spoke out. “There must be a crowd for this. I’ll do the arrangements for this matter. Sansa and Arya have been dealing with Little Finger since Arya came back. They know what must be done.” Pushing yourself up you walked towards the fire. 

“Will you think less of me, if I do it?” You asked softly. 

“No.” Bran answered you. “I could never think less of you, sister.” You crossed your arms over your chest. 

“You are much stronger than you think. Isaac won’t be the last man to think of you as weak. There will be more, many and you will have to show them all.” Your face dropped at his words and you looked over at him. 

“Your dream won’t stop until you face the truth. You survived your attack with Isaac that day. Sandor is alive because of you. Isaac isn’t coming back.” 

The night also ended with you helping Bran into bed. You were about to leave when you stopped at the doorway. 

“Bran, the Three-Eyed Raven.” You called out to your brother. He looked over at you. Facing him you asked him the question that everyone asked him when he woke up from that fall years ago. 

“Who pushed you off that tower?” Bran remained silent until you shouted the question again. 

“Tell me.”

The great hall was filled the next day. You sat next to Sansa while Bran sat next to her. You watched as the trap was set, your eyes couldn’t help but glance at Little Finger. He looked so smug when the guard brought Arya into the hall. 

Sansa looked over at you. She had told you about Little Finger. You had to admit he was good at tricking people, he was good at lying but with one little slip he did with Sansa and she knew it was a facade. 

“Are you sure about this?” Arya asked Sansa as she stood in the center of the hall. 

“Yes. It’s what honor demands.” Sansa answered. 

“What does honor demand?” You cleared your throat before answering Arya. 

“To defend our family. Our house. The North, alongside with the people that reside in. Avenge those who have been betrayed. Do you agree?”

“I do. Let’s get this done.” You nodded then looked over at Sansa. She wanted to be the one to do it. You allowed her, of course. She needed this and you were going to help her get back at Little Finger. 

“You stand before us accused of murder and treason. How do you answer these charges, Lord Baelish?” Sansa asked, looking over at him. His blue eyes widen as he realizes that Sansa was speaking to him instead of Arya. 

He stutters for a moment. “Do you deny it?” You asked him. 

Lord Baelish looks at her then at you. “Lady Y/n, this seems to be a misunderstanding.” 

He’s about to get near you when one of the guards steps next to you. 

“For starters, let’s talk about how you murdered our Aunt Lysa. Pushing her through the moon door.” Little Finger looked towards you once more but you stared at him with disgust. 

“I did it to protect you, Sansa.” He said softly. 

You rose up. “You did it for power.”

“You also conspired to murder Jon Arryn.” You knew it was over when Sansa spoke all his charges to him. As he looked over, you can hear the thumping sound again ringing in your head. At that moment, you realize it was his heart that you can hear, his heart was beating fast as Sansa spoke out about him conspiring with Cersei Lannister and Joffrey to betray Ned Stark. 

You stood up as Little Finger walked to the table and leaned over to face Sansa. “Lady Sansa, everything I did was for you. Everything I did was to protect you because I love you.” 

“You love me so much that you sold me to the Boltons.” Sansa said, looking at him with tears. 

“If we could speak alone.” He was about to reach out for her hand when you grabbed his wrist, pushing it hard against the table. He let out a yelp as you placed your full weight on his wrist. 

“You must be crazy if you think I will ever leave you alone with my sister ever again.” You whispered harshly to his face. Little Finger let out a whine as you continued to grip his wrist. 

“Lad-.” He let out a scream when his wrist broke in half. The guards looked away when you looked at them. Arya’s eyes grew wide as you looked at everyone in the room. Little Finger slumped over the table before falling down to his knees. He held his broken wrist against his chest as started to sob. 

“ I am, Lord Protector of the Vale and I command you to take me back safely home.” Little Finger yelled as he started to push himself up from the ground. Lord Royce looked away from Little Finger and looked at you instead waiting for your command. 

“Why are you looking at her?” He yelled at the older man. 

“Because they know, Petyr. They all know the truth now.  They all know what kind of man you are. Liar, manipulator but most of all you betrayed Ned Stark.” You said walking around the table to the center to get close with him. Arya got near you with her blade in her hand. 

“Sansa. Sanaa pleasee.” You shook your head at him while he cried for your sister. 

“She won’t help you. No one will.” You gave a nod at Arya and he let out a scream when she cut his calf making him fall back to the ground. 

“Take him outside along with the rest.” The guards next to Lord Royce grabbed Little Finger’s by the arms and dragged him out the hall. 

You looked over at Sansa who tried her best to not break down. “Please bring out Ramsey and his accomplice.” You spoke out to the rest of the guards. 

Arya and Bran watched you grab Sansa’s hand over the table. She held onto you for dear life. 

“You don’t have to see it when it happens. None of you have too.” Sansa rose up from her seat. 

“Make him suffer. Make them all suffer.” Arya and Bran shared a look. Sansa was the one who got hurt by them the most. She didn’t show emotion in front of them when she confirmed what had happened with Ramsey. She didn’t shed a tear to them but they knew. In the late nights Arya found herself standing outside her sister's chambers. Arya can hear her cries. Both sisters didn’t see eye to eye when growing up. They fought and argued. Arya wasn’t never good at comforting anyone. She hated herself the moments when she couldn’t comfort Sansa. 

She was glad you were here now and she was going to help you get back everyone who did wrong to House Stark. 

Lord Royce walked with Sansa and Arya. Bran was near the entrance of the Great Keep. People from Wintertown, the servants, the guards, and a few knights of Vale stood around the courtyard. Others stood on the balcony staring down. They were all watching Lord Baelish alongside the woman who was still loyal to Ramsey. Lastly, Ramsey himself. 

You walked to the courtyard, passing your siblings. 

“Let me prove myself innocent. I deserve that.”  Little Finger cried out. 

“You deserve NOTHING.” You screamed at him. A growl in your chest came out. 

Ramsey barely kept his eyes open. He was sitting on the ground, his bitten leg was frozen completely. It had to begin to turn black and he was completely missing his foot. The flesh and bone was a gory sight, he had bite marks on the right side of his face. His hounds indeed did a number on him. 

“Keep your eyes open.” You said leaning over at him. His eyes opened softly and he looked up at you. 

“I want to see the life draining from your eyes when I kill you.” You whispered. 

You walked back and looked around at the audience before you. “You're all here today to witness what happens when you betray House Stark.” You yelled as loud as you could. 

“Murder.” You hissed looking at Little Finger. 

“Traitor.” The woman flinched when you looked at her. 

“Rapist and a murder.” Ramsey let out a smirk. Even with a missing foot and being a bloody mess he had the nerve to smirk at you. 

“I wish.” Ramsey said before taking a deep breath. His smirk turned into a full on smile. 

“You got to see the look on your sister's face when I took her. The look on your brother’s face when he thought your bastard brother was going to save him.” He lets out a giggle. 

“The look on his face when I shot an arrow in his chest.” Arya held her breath when she saw your shoulders shaking as you stood in front of Ramsey. His viled words made her sick to her stomach. 

The crowd gasped when you walked closer to him, grabbing Ramsay by the collar of his shirt with one hand pulling him close to your face. They started to whisper amongst themselves on how you managed to lift him up with one hand.

Ramsay started to wheeze as you lifted him higher. “I’m going to have so much fun with you.” He frowned as your eyes began to shift. You gave him your own smile and his eyes widened when he saw your canine teeth begin to grow. 

Dropping Ramsey down to the ground, you can hear him coughing as he was trying to catch his breath. You looked over at the woman who looked completely horrified. Little Finger had started to cry when he saw you tilting your head to the side and your eyes began to glow yellow. 

“The North remembers. We will never forget this day.” You yelled, the audience looked shocked as your eyes were now yellow. 

“Open the gates.” Sansa frowned and was about to walk towards you when Arya grabbed a hold of her arm. Arya shook her head at Sansa. This was a part of your plan.

The gates were opened and the woman looked over her shoulder. “I’ll give you a head start.” Her bottom lip started to tremble as you began to untie your cape. 

“You too.” Little Finger’s eyes were wide as you dropped your cape to the ground. He looked at you then over at the gate. He gave a look at the woman who was still shocked and quickly got up. He started to run towards the gate. 

“Arya. If that piece of shit even moves an inch. Hurt him.” You look over at your younger sister who grabbed her knife from her belt. 

“Gladly.” She answered with a smile, peeking over at Ramsey. 

The woman quickly got up from the ground and began to wail as she ran towards the gate. A few feet behind Little Finger. This was your moment to get revenge, this is the time for you to transform again. To use your ability to kill those who betrayed your house. For father, mother, Robb, Rickon, Bran, Sansa, Arya and Jon. 

People were whispering as they saw you undressing in front of them. The moment the dress fell to the ground, you faced everyone in your white undergarment dress. Some looked scared while others had a concerning look on their face. Beric and Thoros held their breath as they watched from the sidelines. They knew this day would come. 

“I am Y/n Stark. Daughter of Lord Eddard and Catelyn Stark and I am their vengeance.” You scream with all your might. You looked ahead, time seemed to have slowed down. You can see Little Finger and the woman had made it out of the gates and were still running to the open field. Falling to your knees you held your breath when you felt your back arched and your bones snapped. 

The Stark siblings watched in amazement when the wolf had taken over your body. Sansa walked a few steps forward when she saw your transformation. She flinched when you let out a howl and began to run, chasing Little Finger and the woman. Ghost let out a howl joining you along with the rest of Ramsey’s hounds. 

People in the sideline followed you behind when you made it out of the gate. Sansa hears a woman scream first, she froze in place next to Bran while the people cheer. 

“Seven hells.” Arya cursed under her breath when the crowd of people began to part by the gate making a path for you. Their eyes were wide as they saw you, an enormous wolf walking back inside the courtyard. Bloody paw prints imprinted on the snow as you walked towards your siblings. Sansa noticed you had something in your mouth when you stopped a few feet away from them. 

She flinched when you threw something at her feet. The people gasped when they saw Little Finger’s head near Sansa’s feet. Her blue eyes stared at your yellow ones, Sansa looked down at Ramsey. 

“Move him to the center.” She told the guards. 

“No. Noo. Sansa.” Ramsey yelled until his voice was strained while being dragged to the center. 

No one did anything as he began to cry and beg for mercy. His screams for Sansa to stop it filled everyone's ears but they were all staring at you. You circled Ramsey, your ears were erect and forward. Your tail high in the air as you opened your jaw open, showing Ramsey your fangs. 

It was when a loud growl echoed through the courtyard with Ramsey’s scream that ended everything. They watched as you bit his other leg, dragging him across the courtyard and throwing him to the other side. The sound of flesh being ripped apart while he screamed. Sansa held her head high when you walked towards her bringing Ramsey’s decapitated head. 

The North will remember this day. No one will ever forget that justice was served and anyone who dares to betray House Stark will end up just like the woman, just like Little Finger and just like Ramsey dead. 

----

It was a day after you left Winterfell with a group when Jon rode with Daenerys and her army into Winterfell. People of Wintertown remained silent as they watched the white haired woman pass through. Arya was hidden behind the people as she watch the army march in, she smiled wide when she saw Jon. Her smile dropped when she saw Sandor on his horse riding with the army. 

If what she had been told about Sandor and you was true then he was going to lose his shit when he found out you weren’t in Winterfell. Arya quickly walked away from the crowd. 

Sansa and Bran stood next to each other while they waited for Jon to arrive in the courtyard. After giving his welcome to his siblings, Jon’s brows rose up in question. 

“Y/n? Arya?” Sansa shared a look with Bran. 

“Arya is lurking somewhere.” 

“Y/n?” Jon asked, looking around. 

“We will speak about it when we get inside. The wall has fallen. The dead march south.” Bran spoke out. His eyes shifted when he looked behind Jon. Sandor had walked into the courtyard looking around for you. 

Sansa didn’t trust Daenerys the moment she saw her. She stared down at her when Jon introduced her. Sansa couldn’t help but not trust anyone who wasn’t a Stark. Perhaps it was because of the trauma she had to endure, everyone who she did trust, just stabbed her in the back. She didn’t trust her but that didn’t mean she wasn’t grateful for Daenerys saving Jon beyond the wall. 

“As soon as we heard about the wall. We called all our banners to retreat to Winterfell.” Sansa spoke loudly to the people in the great hall. 

“Y/n had joined with Lord Umber to gather his people. He needed more horses and wagons. We shall expect them tonight or tomorrow.” 

“Why would she go?” Jon asked, looking over at Sansa.

“She’s the Lady of Winterfell. She wanted to help. The more help they had, the faster Lord Umber’s people will come.” Jon looks away and notices no one will look at him. 

“We need to send a raven to the Night’s watch as well.” Jon spoke out. 

“Y/n had done it already.” Bran spoke. Jon cleared his throat when his brother responded. He got a sense of pride for you in his chest. You had taken control well over Winterfell.   

“Your grace?” Lyanna Mormont spoke out as she stood up. She asked him how they should call him now. They named him The King in the North and now he wasn’t one. They were angry and they wanted answers. Sansa refused to look at Jon when he gave her a look to help him out. 

“I chose the North.” Jon said, explaining to them how he did it for Daenerys to come and help them win this war with the dead. 

“Perhaps we picked the wrong Stark then.” Lyanna Mormont said. The Lords around her quietly agreed. Jon froze at her words, he sat down quietly. Tyrion rose up from his seat trying to ease the tension. It didn’t end well when he announced that the Lannister’s army would be joining them soon. 

Sandor stood in the Winterfell's battlement looking over the roads. He didn’t handle it well when he heard of your departure. He wanted to go to Last Hearth and help you. Help Beric and Thoros as well. He was grateful that they kept their promise to him about keeping you safe. There's no doubt in his mind that they would’ve left you alone. 

“Sandor.” He looks to the right when he hears someone call out his name. He held his breath when he saw Sansa standing a few feet away from him. She held her hands in front of her, she stared at him up and down. 

“Little bird.” Sandor replied with a nod then looked ahead watching the roads again in hopes to see you arriving. 

“Thank you for bringing her back to us.” Sansa told him. 

“Are you?” Sansa nodded at him. 

“I thought your sister and you would kill me for bringing her back as something else.” Sansa took a deep breath before walking closer to Sandor. He turns to face her when she gets close to him. 

For the first time, Sansa was staring up at him with no fear in her eyes. Her eyes held gratitude. 

“There was a time when you couldn’t even look at me.” 

“That was a long time ago, Sandor. I have seen much worse than you.” He chuckled at her and they both looked ahead. 

Sandor contemplated if he should tell Sansa that he was sorry for what has done to her. He felt guilty for not doing more to convince her to go with him and you after escaping King’s Landing. He never wanted to see you cry like that ever again after hearing what had happened to her. 

“Is he dead?” Sansa knew who he meant. “Yes.” 

“How?” He asked her. 

“Hounds didn’t work so a wolf got the job done.” Sansa answered him and the hair on Sandor’s back stood up. 

“Y/n?” He asked her. Sansa confirmed it and Sandor let out a small smile. 

“If you like to see her work, walk to the southern side of the battlements.” Sandor looks towards where Sansa spoke of. 

“Jon saw it?” He asked. 

“He wasn’t very happy with it but the people of Winterfell are. I am.” Sandor and Sansa walked to the southern side. His mouth dropped when he saw three decapitated heads on a spike. 

“It takes you back doesn’t it.” Sansa said, reminiscing that day on the bridge when Joffrey showed her and you Ned's head on a spike.

Sandor looks over at Sansa who kept staring at the decapitated heads. “You changed, Little Bird.” Guilt started to rise inside of him, He should have done more for Sansa to come with them.

“I’m sorr-.” “Don’t.” Sansa cut Sandor’s off. She looks up at him once more. 

“Without them, I would have stayed the same naïve girl you knew in King’s Landing. I’m stronger now and smarter. I have my sisters with me and now we have you with us.” 

Sandor’s eyes widened. “Y/n had the master’s chambers prepared for your arrival. Clean clothes, sheets and everything you’ll need has been provided.” 

“Thank you for bringing my sister back. The North and I will never forget what you did.” Sansa told him before walking away. She called out over her shoulder for a servant to show Sandor the way to the chambers. 

Sandor feels out of place when the servant shuts the door behind him when he enters the master's chambers. He looked around to see the furniture, the table in the center was filled with fruits and bread. He shook his head at the pitcher of ale on the table. You knew him too well. He touched the bed that was filled with blankets of wool and fur. He walks to the end of the bed and finds his name written on a scroll. His eyes widened when he saw a leather cape with black and gray fur stitched around the shoulders and neckline. Underneath he sees a tunic shirt and dark trousers. He leans down when he notices the large and heavy boots. They were good for the snow, Sandor didn’t have to worry about his toes getting frostbite anymore. He held the cape close to his chest, this was all for him. He never wore anything this nice before and he never was gifted anything like this. 

Looking ahead there was a closet nearby. He walked towards it and touched the new clothes, they looked about his size. Different tunics, capes and trousers hung in the closet. He was gracious that you had done this for him. Giving him warm clothes and a good bed but what he longs for was you. He notices your robe hanging from the door. He walks towards it, grabbing the robe and holding it close to his face. He can smell your scent on the robe. His chest aches for you. He wished they had arrived sooner so he could have gone with you to Last Hearth. 

Dinner in Winterfell was awkward at first, he walked inside the hall after one of the servants told him that dinner would be served. Ser Davos and Gendry commented on Sandor’s new clothes and told him that he looks like a true northerner when Sandor sat with them. 

“You cleaned up nice.” Brienne said when she sat in front of Sandor. 

“Fuck off.” Sandor said, making her roll her eyes as he grabbed the pitcher of ale from the table. She remained seated in front of him and they both ate quietly with the rest. 

Word had spread about Sandor and your relationship with him. He can hear the whispers behind his back and the looks people gave him. Northern clothes on a southern man gave the North something to talk about. 

“You heard what she did?” Brienne asked. 

“The heads on the spike.” He nodded at her as he continued to eat his food. 

“What do you think?” Sandor huffed before answering. 

“Good. Fuck them. They deserve it.” Brienne remains quiet for a second. 

“I heard the queen wasn’t too fond of it. Jon didn’t like it either.” Sandor looks up from his plate as he chews his food. 

“The queen didn’t like it? But she’s the one burning people with her dragons if they don’t bend the knee.” Sandor said as he grabbed his cup to take a drink. 

There was a loud crash in the dining hall making everyone stop chatting and eating. Sandor looks ahead to see Sansa and Jon out of their seats standing next to Bran. Jon was yelling at Bran to wake up but Bran had his head thrown back and his eyes were white. 

“He’s warging.” Arya said, looking over at her brother. Bran’s hand gripped the handles of his wheelchair tightly, his plate of food was on the ground. It was a minute later when Bran returned. 

“What happened?” Jon asked to kneel next to Bran who started to sweat. 

“They ran into trouble.” Bran spoke out. “Y/n. Beric.  

“There’s coming now.” 

Grey Worm opened the door of the hall, Daenerys rose up from her seat. Sandor was the first to walk out of the hall when Grey Worm announced that a few Dothraki making their rounds found them miles away from Wintertown. Dinner was cut short and they immediately walked to the courtyard. Arya was standing next to Sansa in the court yard as the guards lit the candles around the yard. The night was cold, Sandor was still shivering under his warm clothes and fur cape as he stood in the battlement. 

Arya kept looking up at Sandor to see him pacing back and forward. 

“Riders coming in!” The guard yelled in the night. Jon watched as survivors of the garrison at East Watch by the sea and Castle Black rode in. A few free folk came in on horses. Sansa looked around to see you. Jon and his siblings watched as the Beric came riding in, the free folks and the survivors stood and watched as you walked in last. 

You were walking alongside your horse. Thoros body draped over the straddle. Jon’s breath hitched at the sight of you. He noticed you were naked under your cape. You walked on the snow with your bare feet, your hair was a mess and you had blood on your hands and feet. Your eyes were bloodshot and you walked like one of the dead. You looked ahead to see your siblings. 

It was quiet for a second, no one said a word. They stared at you as you placed a hand on Thoros’ back. Beric got off his horse and walked towards you. 

“I’ll put him to rest, Lady Y/n.” He spoke to you softly. 

“I’ll help you.” Beric shook his head. “You must rest. You fought hard and well.” 

Jon was about to walk towards you when Tormund spoke loudly. 

“Rest, m’lady. You had protected us during the ride here.” 

Sansa quickly ran towards you when you nodded at the redhead wildling. Jon and Arya followed. Sansa hugged you tight when Tormund and Beric walked away with Thoros’ body. 

“What happened?” Jon asked you. Arya’s frowned as your eyes started to well up in tears. Sansa grabbed your hand. 

“A few wights were residing in Last Hearth. The Night King is almost upon us. We barely made it out.” You told him with a quavering tone. 

You were about to speak again when you heard Sandor.  You looked over Jon’s shoulder. Sansa let your hand go when she saw Sandor standing in the sidelines. The tears fell down your cheeks as you stared at him. You immediately started to walk towards him. 

Daenerys watched as Sandor quickly walked to you practically speed walking. She watched as you leapt into his arms. Sandor held you tight against him, lifting you up so your arms warped around his shoulders. 

Everyone watched as you hugged Sandor. The rumors were proven right, Lady Y/n was with The Hound. Sandor had shoved his face in the crock of your neck as he held you. 

“Never leave me again. Please.” You whispered to Sandor as he settled you down on the ground. He cups your face wiping your tears with his thumbs. 

“Aye. I swear it.” He tells you. 

“He saved me.” You told Sandor. “Thoros saved me. I couldn’t leave him behind. I couldn’t allow him to turn into a wight.” You hugged him once more. 

Sandor didn’t know why his chest felt heavy when you told him about Thoros death. He wasn’t close to him. They fought like cats and dogs during their journey but he saved you.  

“We need to get you inside.” Sandor spoke. You nodded at him. Sandor placed a hand on your lower back to guide back inside the castle when your name was called out. 

Shaken and scared, young Lord Ned Umber walked towards you. He stopped when he saw Sandor staring down at him. Lord Ned Umber pulled his sword out and kneel down on one knee. 

“Thank you, Lady Y/n. I am forever in your debt.” The survivors of House Umber followed their lord and kneel down on one knee. 

“We would have been dead without you.” The young boy stated. 

“Rise, Lord Umber.” You spoke out after watching one by one kneeling in front of you. 

“For centuries our families fought on the battlefield together. You pleaded your loyalty to House Stark again, Lord Umber after your father betrayed us. As long as I am breathing and able to fight, I will help those who plead their loyalty to me. To House Stark.” You spoke out. The people loudly agreed and holler as they banged their weapons together. 

Tyrion looks up at Daenerys to see her staring at you with admiration. Tyrion knew she would have to make you side with her if she wanted to win over the North. He realized what Lyanna Mormont meant when saying they picked the wrong Stark. He hoped this wouldn’t cause an issue between you and Daenerys. He wondered what Ned would think if he saw you now. He watched as Sandor helped you walk inside the castle. After seeing what you have done with the traitors, he knew you had changed. The eerily sensation filled his stomach when he thought back of what Joffrey had done to Ned Stark’s head. This was payback. This was revenge. He wonders what you would do when you see the Lannister army come up to the north. He wouldn’t forget the face Daenerys and Jon had when they saw the decapitated heads, their eyeballs were plucked out, and their tongues were cut. 

Sandor shut the door after a servant bought him a tray of stew. He looks at you as he brings the tray to the table and sits on the chair across from you. He grew worried when you kept quiet. You haven’t spoken when you walked inside the castle. You remained silent when the servant helped you wash. 

“Are you angry with me?” You questioned him before bringing the bowl of stew in front of you. 

Sandor watched as you took your robe off, showing your bare arms. He can see the faint scratch marks on your arms. He pressed his lips in a tight line, he wanted to be angry. He was because you left Winterfell after he told you to stay put but knew he couldn’t be angry. You’re Lady of Winterfell and with that title came with responsibilities. 

“I wish you would’ve sent out more men instead of going yourself.” He answered you. 

“We couldn’t afford to send more men out there. Lord Glover decided not to help us after he heard that Jon was bringing the queen here. I will stand behind Jon Snow, the King in the North was what he wrote to us.” 

“I wasn’t expecting some of the dead to be there.” You told him truthfully. 

“I wasn’t expecting Thoros to die for me. I should have done better. I didn’t see one of them coming behind me. They stabbed him in the chest.” You cried out, wiping your tears away. 

“Thoros did what he was expected to do. To keep you safe. I told him to promise me he would. Beric did as well.” Sandor regretted telling you those words when he saw you look at him with a frown. 

“You made them promise to keep me safe? Thoros would have still been alive if it wasn’t for that.” It was Sandor’s turn to frown now. You were angry. 

Sandor rose up from his seat and walked in front of you. “Thoros died because he wanted to protect you. It wasn’t just because of a promise. If he didn’t want to, he wouldn’t have protected you. I know men who don’t keep their oath and their promises, he’s not one of them. He did it because he wanted to. He and Beric  agreed without hesitation.” 

Sandor kneels down next to you when you didn’t meet his eyes. “And when the time comes that I have to die to protect you. I will without hesitation and without regret because I love you.” 

You turned to look at Sandor when he said those very words you had told him before many times. He never said it once to you before.  

“You love me?” You asked him. 

“Aye. I do.” Sandor nodded. “I love you, my little wolf.” 

You leaned down close to him, he closed in with his lips pressing against yours. You cupped his face as he deepened the kiss. The stew was long forgotten when you wrapped your arms around his neck. Sandor stood up, taking you into his arms.

“I love you too. I love you so much.” You told him, Sandor lets out a smile. The feeling he always had when you told him you loved him multiplied. He was loved, and he loved you. He had forgotten all about his troubles and his worries. 

You lead him towards the bed making him sit on the edge. You stood between his legs, kissing him. His hands rest on your hips pulling you close to him, tight against him he wanted you. He wants you badly, he grows hard just by your kisses just by your touch. He hears you moan when he kisses your neck, nipping your skin. 

His hands go under your nightgown, he feels how soft and warm you are. You let out a squeal at his cold hands. 

“You’re freezing. Haven’t gotten used to the North yet, I see.” You asked with a smirk. 

“I have been freezing my balls off all day.” Sandor replies as he pushes the gown up and cups your ass. 

“We can’t have that. Can we?” He smiles up at you as you start to undress him. He felt like the luckiest man alive. Being kissed by a person like you. Beautiful. Strong. Intelligent. A fighter. 

He felt so lucky that you chose him to love him. To continue to love him with all his flaws, with half of a burnt face and a troubled past. He watched as you took off your nightgown after removing his coat along with his shirt. Sandor latched on to your bare skin, kissing it pulling up against his chest as his hands roamed around your body. 

“Come here.” He tells you, making you sit on his lap. Chest to chest, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Sandor lets out a moan as you grind against his hard on, the fabric of his trouser grew wet by your aroused. 

“You’re not afraid of me?” You asked him softly against his neck. Sandor looks at you. 

“You must know by now what I did. Someone must’ve told you.” You said as your hands wandered on his chest. 

“Are you afraid of me?” He asked you, making you frown. 

“Of course not. I love you.” You said. Sandor lets out a small smile as he looks at your face. He brings his hand to cup your face, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. 

“You have your answer.” He mumbles as he pulls your bottom lip. You grab his wrist, taking his thumb in your mouth. Sucking his thumb as you grind on him.

“Fuck.” He says when you playfully bite the tip of his thumb. 

“Lay down.” You tell him. Sandor was too slow and you pushed him on the bed completely catching him off guard. He was too busy staring at your naked body. You crawl up towards him, you moan when you drag your cunt against his stomach.  Caging his head with your arms, you leaned down to kiss him. 

“I want to ride you.” You whispered shyly at him as you kissed his scarred cheek. He cups your ass with his large hands, squeezing the fat of your ass. 

“Let me get you ready.” You shake your head and he drops his mouth when he touches your sopping cunt. You were so wet. 

He was about to get up when you pushed him back down. He doesn’t move when you start to move down, quickly your hands unties the laces of his trousers. He watches as your eyes widen by his hard cock. Your jerk off his cock with both hands for a moment before pushing yourself up to get into position. 

Placing a hand on his hairy chest, you let out a whine when you sit down on his cock slowly. His cock was splitting you open, it’s been far too long since you’ve been intimate with him. Sandor moans when you sit down completely on his cock. He can feel your walls clenching around him. His hips were starting to thrust upwards when you placed both hands on chest, stopping him completely. 

His toes curl in his boots when you move your hips, your cunt is so wet. He grabs a hold on your outer thighs when you start to bounce on his cock. He can’t stop looking at your face, so beautiful you looked. Your mouth is parted as you moan while riding him. Your hair was thrown over your shoulder. 

The bed dipped every time you sank down his cock. Rising your hips up and down slowly trying to get used to him. He watches you with hooded eyes, he bites his bottom lip to not cry out. 

He rubs his hands up and down the side of your body as you ride him. Your breathy moans and his grunts mixed together with the sound of your wet cunt.  He feels your coming to end, he knows the moment you make a whiny noise. He starts to thrust up making you shout in pleasure. 

“Cum for me.” He tells you as he pulls your hips down. He wants to make you cum, he wants to feel you cumming on his cock. He doesn’t stop trusting his hips up, not when you’re moaning so loud. He wraps you around when you start to cum. You had fallen on his chest when you came. 

He stays hard, your whining makes him hard. He grinds his hips making you cry out. You push yourself up on his chest. Leaning down, you kiss him gently. 

“It’s your turn. I want you to cum. Please inside of me. I want to feel you deep in me.” You whisper to him. 

“On your back.” He tells you after he kisses you. He smirks at the dopey smile you had on your face when you rolled on the bed. He looks over at you as he tips his boots off and removes his trousers leaving it on the ground. 

He groans as he jerks himself as he stares at you. Pretty thing, on your back, legs spread open. He can see the lips of cunt are swollen and wet. He notices your cheeks grew red when you saw him looking at you. Sandor swore his ears started to ring when you began to tease him. Bringing a hand down to your cunt, rubbing your clit in front of him. Just like how he showed you. The first time he showed you, he wouldn’t forget the look on your face when he used his fingers to make you cum. He gets on the bed and tugs you towards him. It was your turn now to watch him. 

His cock was painfully hard now, precum dripping from his thick head. He notices your glossy eyes when pushes your legs against your chest. He rubs the head of his cock against your cunt. Slowly up and down, even smacking a few times on your clit making you moan out. 

“Please.” You beg him to put it in. “Sandor.” 

He senses your frustration and he continues to play with your cunt. He gathers your slick and rubs it around your cunt. He pushes his cock in, he lets out a moan when your lips spread on his cock. 

He slides in and out of you slowly. He’s grabbing the blankets underneath you to control himself. You're already trembling under him and your pussy is pulsating around him. 

He cries your name out and he snaps his hips hard making you cry out. 

“Fuck!” He grunts against your name as he quickly thrusts into you. He ruts into you fast and hard. You had pulled him by the beard towards your face so you could kiss him. He’s panting against your neck as your pussy is squelching with each thrust. 

Sandor comes with a growl making you cry out. He holds you down with his weight as he fills your womb with his seeds. You continued to embrace him, enjoying the sensation of behind weight down and filled. Sandor kisses your shoulders, butterfly kisses on your skin he gives you. Before he starts to get up to get comfortable with you in bed. He moves his hand to turn your head towards him. He pulls you into a surprise kiss. You open your mouth when you feel his tongue against your bottom lip. He sinks his hands into your hair pulling it gently making you moan in his mouth.

 Both of you pull away in need for air, “Fuck, Y/n.” He whispered out of breath against your cheek. You give him a smile when he looks down at you. 

Sandor wakes up in the middle of the night in thirst. Carefully getting out of the bed without waking you up. He let out a sigh when he saw there was no ale left, quickly getting dressed. He walked out of the room quietly to not disturb you. He knew you needed your rest. He was about to walk past the great hall with the empty pitcher in his hand when he saw voices coming from inside. The light from the candles glowed under the parted doors of the hall. 

As he got closer to the doors of the hall. He heard Tormund’s voice booming from the inside. 

“The moment Thoros shut his eyes and died. There was a growl.” Sandor stopped between the doors to look inside. 

Tormund was sitting on top of the tables with a crowd around him. Some were the free folks while others were guards of the Vale and from the Stark. Tormund took a sip from his horn cup and his eyes widened when he raised his hands up. 

“The wolf came out! Scared some of the people but they held their ground. They had too because the moment the wolf came out. The dead knew. So Lady Y/n took them one by one while we got our horses ready. Ripping their limbs or their heads off. We thought the coast was clear but we were wrong.” Sandor held his breath as Tormund continued. 

“Beric and I had to hold on to Lady Y/n’s horse. Thoros was strapped on the staddle. She refused to leave him behind. Nearly bit Beric’s leg and my ass off to make sure.” 

“The ride here ? How was that?” One of the servants asked. 

“Did the dead follow you guys?” A soldier asked frantically. 

“They did follow us and when they are near, the weather worsens. Almost shit myself because of it!” Tormund answered with a nod. His blue eyes looked around the people around him. 

“She ran alongside with our horses. Any dead that got near us, she would run around and take them down.” Sandor decides to walk away to the kitchen. He didn’t need to hear anymore of his story. You told him what had happened afterwards, being intimate with him. He asked you for the story while you laid on top of him. His fingers were running through your hair while the other rubbed your back as you told him. 

Sandor was relieved when he saw the kitchen empty. Quickly refilling the pitcher, he made his way back to the chambers. He shut the door behind him and looked at your sleeping form. He leaned against the door continuing to stare at you. He admired you from afar, he stared at the way that your chest rose up and from down with each breath you took. He can see the love bites on your breast and shoulders. Your bare leg was peeking out of the wool blankets. 

Sandor takes a sip straight from the pitcher when he remembers what you told him before falling asleep. It made his eyes filled with unshed tears. 

“I would die protecting you as well. No hesitation and no regret. I would do it in a heartbeat.” 

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[me-only-me01]

Ok, I've been a little bit obsessed with staticmonth this past weeks, and I've come with a lot of headcanons, backstories and human design.

Valentino:

Human name: Valentino

Reason: his mother wanted really bad a child, so on valentain day she went to the church of S.Valentino and pray a whole morning.

In the afternoon of the saim day she met a charming men and they fell in love.

After seven month she had a child that name Valentino to thank the Saint.

But when the men know of the child he left her alone.

For that she blames her son but never let this obscure her love for him.

Age: 17 (he died on his 18th birthday)

Surname: dorsn't have one

Sex: has both sex

Apperence: he is a charming spanish boy.He has dark blonde hair and borwn eyes. His upper body look like a male, but he has got a male and a female sex. That why he is confident wear colthes for all gender. His face is beautifull, it has soft feature that remember the painting of '300/'400.

Work: he work has a pornostar. Even if he's the most expensive and esclusive one, everyone want to have him.

His mother doesn't know what is his work, she only know that he is the best in the company.

One night he met a gentle man, that continue to say that he love him.

When he's at work he is a total bastard and manipulative person.

He also is a 'double face', can be gentle at first but, when he know somewone is totaly under his control, he become rude and a bitch.

Reason of death: torture

One night that man try to sexual abuse his female side (Val made it clear that one was out of touch) and Valentino defend himself by broking a glass on the other face.

The man leave but the night after he drugged him and with the help of three other peaple took him in a old building were he abuses him, burn him, destroy his privet part and use him as a puncing bag.

When Valentino's body couldn't take anymore they take on fire the building with him inside still alive.

When the autority came on the place and tried to stop the fire, Valentino, despite the left part of his body wich was completly melt, catch the leg of one fireman while tried to hask for help but died befor saing it.

The most sad thing is it was is birthday.

His mother cried him until she died for sadness.

She went to heaven and search for her baby, only to find the true about him.

Lover: Vox, their relationships is like sugar daddy/ sugar baby, but they like it that way.

When Vox tried to take their relationship to a more romantic way, he became nervous by thinking it will end like the 'one' when he was alive.

Vox don't know how he died, but he know is a red flag for Val.

[julemmaes]

prompt for nessian: nesta and gwyn come to pick up emerie from a frat party (idk why) but the only way for them to leave is for nesta and gwyn to beat eris and balthazar at beer pong. cassian wants to tell eris to fuck off but nesta has it handled

The way I've been playing with this prompt in my head since you sent it it's embarrassing. The amount of ideas I got for this, stop me rn

Also I posted another Nessian lil thingie yesterday night in case you missed it

Word count: ~2.3k

The loud music coming from inside the frat house was making the windows shake and the faint rumble of the glass had Nesta grimace in disgust. 

She didn't hate drunk people, she certainly loved music and she'd have kissed someone's feet if there was even the slight chance they could free her from the awful torment that finals week was just so she could freely attend a well-organized party. But frats, on the other hand. 

There had been a time during her first year where Greek row had been her home, she'd lived and breathed their parties, made pacts with the devils—only to be brutally rejected by everyone she'd called a friend after she broke up with her ex.

Nesta hated frats, despised them. And it was personal.

Reaching behind her and taking Gwyn's hand in hers in a silent agreement not to let go, she walked right into the beast's den, welcoming the stench of testosterone, alcohol and smoke. 

The air was stifling and the heat was already making her sweat. The floors were sticky and Nesta remembered all the mornings she'd been put on cleaning duty.

Entering the wide living room, she went up on her toes, searching the faces for a familiar one that didn't give her shivers.

Emerie had texted them that her dd had bailed on her and left her behind and she was lucky both Nesta and Gwyn had been studying in the library and not already asleep. 

But she wasn't picking up her calls and Nesta was getting antsy, so here they were.

"Let's check the backyard!" Gwyn shouted over the music after looking for Emerie in all the rooms. 

A few people in passing said hi to them, even seeming surprised to see her in the house. Nesta didn't stop for a single one of them, she just wanted to get her friend and leave.

The moment they walked out back, fresh air hit her face and she took a deep breath. The music was somewhat muffled here and only a few small groups where outside, chilling as the party was coming to an end.

"C'mon, Ems, you told me you'd play with me tonight. You can't leave." 

The sentence snapped her attention to the pool, where Eris Vanserra was standing next to Emerie, blocking her way. 

From their standing point, Nesta could perfectly see her friend's face when it crumbled into utter revulsion. 

"Oh boy, did you just call me Ems?" She asked, scoffing. "Do I look like an ambulance to you?" 

Gwyn snorted next to Nesta as they started walking towards the pair. 

Eris' laugh made Nesta irrationally furious, but nothing compared to what his next words roused.

"Listen, you made a promise. You're not leaving until you beat me."

Oh, fuck no. 

Nesta was almost to them, ready to push the fucker into the water and be done with whatever the fuck this was, but someone else piped in. 

A low, gravelly voice, belonging to the man of the hour. It was hard not to recognize his timbre when he personally invited the entire university to attend his team's games every other hour through the speakers scattered across their campus. 

"Leave the girl alone, Van Boy. You sound a word closer to a restraining order." 

Nesta's eyebrows shot up. Cassian Navarro helping her friend out against his teammate wasn't in her 2023 bingo card. 

He was sitting on the benches around the stone brazier, some other recognizable faces with him. He had an arm on the back of his seat, his head turned back to look at their small circle.

"Thanks, cap, but I've got this." Eris sounded annoyed by Cassian pitching in and Nesta relished in it.

Emerie laughed, shaking her head. "You so don't, and I will throat punch you if you don't move out of my way. I wanna leave." 

Eris grinned, "Your friend left you here, isn't that right?" 

Nesta was one second away from stepping in, but, if she had to be completely honest, this little theater play was unfurling quite amusingly. Plus, she knew Emerie could hold her own. 

"Cut the bs, Vanserra," Morrigan Nevin, honorable the cheer squad, stood up, crossing her arms on her chest. She nodded towards Nesta and Gwyn and said, "And Little Miss Archeron over there looks ready to fight, so I'd recommend you let her friend leave and call it a night."

All eyes turned on her in a beat. She wasn't surprised Morrigan knew her name. After all, her younger sister had just started college and from what little they'd shared, Feyre seemed to be fitting right into this crowd. 

Nesta's eyes though—treacherous fuckers they were—landed perfectly on Cassian. He, too, was staring at her and, with a cheeky smile, he lifted his hand in greeting. She pressed her lips together.

Eris faced her then, his mouth curling even more at her dead serious expression. 

"Look what the cat dragged in," he mused. "Hadn't seen you in a hot minute, thought you'd stopped whoring down Greek Row a while ago." 

Gwyn stepped forward, her face red with immediate anger. "Fuck you, you don't know what you're talking about." 

Nesta loved her friends, she truly did, but this piece-of-shit-no-one didn't deserve their time or attention. 

"Em, let's go." 

Emerie stepped around Eris and he didn't say anything as she neared the pair. Didn't even glance at her, only kept staring at Nesta.

They were about to turn around and leave when Eris spoke again.

"You used to party with us all the time. Guess Tomas really did fuck you up, at least that's how the rumor has it." 

Nesta stopped walking and glared daggers into him and she was seething when she spit at him, "I never partied with you. Even when I hang out with the scum that Tomas' close group is, I wasn't stooping as low as you." 

Eris' face dropped. And Nesta wasn't done talking. 

"They might all be assholes who don't give a shit about anyone but themselves, but they would have never held someone from leaving a party cause they can't find a better pastime." 

"Your friend made a promise," his stupid reply was.

Nesta glanced at Emerie, who shrugged and rolled her eyes at the sky, "I told him I'd play beer pong with him at the end of the party if he left me the fuck alone." 

She turned back on Eris, her face mockingly pitiful. "Can't find any friends unless you coerce people into spending time with you?"

"Aw, poor thing," Gwyn deadpanned.

"A promise is a promise."

"Fucking hell, Eris." Cassian called, "why do you always have to be so difficult?" 

"They're just afraid they're gonna lose. It's a simple request to play a game. Don't understand why it got all of you so worked up." 

Afraid? To lose at beer pong? 

Nesta knew she was playing right into his mind game, but she was stressed out because of finals, fed up with the way he'd treated her friend and she could've used the satisfaction that came with knocking him down a few pegs.

"Okay," Nesta said, "let's play."

Eris smiled, content that he was getting what he wanted. 

She jerked her head toward the house. "Go set the table." 

Cassian Navarro had stood up in the meantime, he'd walked closer to them and was now nearing her, his eyes fixated on her face. Nesta was—for whatever reason—excited about the prospect of him talking to her. She was waiting for it like one waited to get to the plot twist of a book.

She hadn't even noticed Eris walking inside, nor Morrigan joining Cassian, not until Emerie pulled on her elbow.

"Great move, now let's get out of here." 

Nesta jerked towards her friends, confused. "What? No, I wanna play."

Gwyn frowned, "Why?"

"He said we were afraid to lose."

Emerie snickered, eyes wide. 

"You're nuts, Nes. Let's just leave." 

"You know," his voice rumbled through her head. Nesta tensed marginally. He sounded so close. "You can go, you don't really have to play against him. He's just a harmless dickhead."

She spun on her heels slowly, tilting her head back to be able to look into his eyes, assessing his neck and the tattoos peeking from his shirt.

The silence stretched for seconds, minutes, hours before she found the words. She could only muster a sure whisper, his vicinity affecting her way more than she liked to admit.

"I have this under control, don't worry. And I honestly wanna play." 

Cassian's mouth opened in a sweet smile and his eyes didn't move from hers as he gestured for them to lead the way. His entire group had gotten up and now the ten of them walked inside the house. 

Nesta heard Morrigan talk to Emerie, ask if she was okay and found herself smiling lightly at the flirty response her friend gave the blonde. Give it to Emerie to look for a hookup at this moment. 

A significant amount of people had left the party and now only the fraternity boys and whoever they were gonna fuck tonight were sitting on the sofas and the floor. The music had died down and someone was ushering the remaining partygoers outside, someone else screaming about cheating boyfriends and fucking alcohol.

They reached the ping pong table in the hall, only a couple making out in the corner of the room. 

Nesta and Emerie stood at one end of the table. 

Balthazar Saraiva sauntered to the opposite side of the table, winking at both the girls like they'd been friends forever.

Nesta breathed out a laugh. She was going to destroy them. 

"What rules are we playing with? Bounce, no bounce? Who dunks can continue playing or we taking turns?" Emerie asked. 

"No bouncing, only direct shots. And we're taking turns." Eris replied. 

Nesta nodded, humming. 

An imposing figure stood next to her, like a giant statue. His arms crossed over his chest made his muscles look bigger and Nesta would be lying to herself if she didn't admit that it was distracting. 

"Ladies first," Eris drawled, "I'm giving you the starting advantage."

"No need," Nesta smirked and took the shot, dunking the ball on the first try. Eris stopped smiling. 

Cheering broke around them, but Nesta only heard the satisfied comment from Cassian, his glimmering eyes on her. 

"Atta girl." 

She couldn't have stopped the shy smile from spreading even if she'd tried.

The game went on shortly. Eris was missing every shot he could, getting purposely distracted by Azriel Behar and Rhysand Almeda. The two guys were really putting so much effort into making it difficult for him, walking behind him every time he had to shoot or calling out to him at the least appropriate moment.

Nesta would have asked them to stop in any other circumstances, wanting an honest and clean win, but seeing the way it was working Eris up, she couldn't bring herself to. 

They won the game in less than five minutes, Emerie only missing one shot, and when Gwyn came behind them and lifted both of them up in an improvised victory dance, Nesta felt lighter. 

Emerie smacked a kiss on her cheek and then started screaming profanities at Eris. 

"Looks like you need the ems now, uh? Cause you definitely got burned!"

Nesta cringed as everyone around them started laughing. 

She'd already been somewhat tipsy and chugging the four cups of beer Balthazar had managed to dunk had pushed her into drunk territory. Always the lightweight, their dark skinned friend. 

Gwyn dropped her to the floor again and as she laughed carefree at the ceiling, someone touched her arm. 

She turned quickly to her left, lifting her gaze up, up and up, until warm brown eyes met hers. 

"I get it you're driving?" 

The question took her by surprise. She frowned, nodding skeptically.

Cassian cleared his throat, scratching his cheek. He almost looked… nervous. "Then I guess my plan to offer you a drink is bound to fail."

Her face relaxed, she forced her lips to stay put, her eyes to not widen. He was looking at her expectantly, waiting for a reply. 

"I—" her voice came out scratchy. "Yes, sorry. Driving." 

She couldn't utter a fully formed sentence, apparently, but he seemed amused by it.

"Raincheck, then? Maybe Friday night?" 

Nesta was on cloud 9. What the fuck was happening right now? 

"Like a date?" 

Cassian smiled, "We can call it whatever you like, sweetheart." 

Nesta sobered up at that. She shook her head. "Don't call me that, that's for sure." 

His interest only grew with those words and Nesta saw the challenge flash behind his eyes.

"So, what do you say? Drink with me on Friday night?" 

Nesta studied his face a beat longer, trying to gauge his real intention. Was he playing with her? She was literally wearing sweatpants and a stained sweatshirt. And yes, she knew she was still beautiful in library attire with no makeup whatsoever, but he'd only spoken to her twice in the four years they'd attended college. 

And Nesta, well, she remembered that first time pretty vividly. She simply didn't want to dwell on it, because she knew it wasn't the same on his side. It had to be that way. 

Cassian's smile faltered. He took a step back, drawing a tight breath in. 

"Forget I asked." He whispered, still loud enough to be heard over the noise of their friends shitting on Eris in the background. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable–" 

"Yes." Nesta interrupted him, closing the distance again. "Yes, I'll come out with you on Friday. For drinks." 

Cassian reeled back, surprised. His smile came back full force and he nodded once. 

She nodded back, offering a weak smile in turn. She could do this. She just needed to hold back the excitement until she was in the car with her friends. 

He looked at her, running a hand through his long hair, and sighed. 

"I'll come pick you up then. At 9." 

"Sounds good, I live–"

He grinned, "Oh, don't worry, I remember."

Nesta's lips parted. 

His smile widened. 

He remembered. 

acotar taglist (if you wanna be removed or added just dm me or send an ask)

@my-fan-side @superspiritfestival @simpingfornestaarcheron @the-regal-warrior @live-the-fangirl-life @sayosdreams @rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @bookstantrash @lordof-bloodshed @nahthanks @sannelovesreading @courtofjurdan @imagine-me @moodymelanist @dread3r @sv0430 @mariamuses @leiawritesstories @thewayshedreamed @duskandstarlight @letstakethedawn @perseusannabeth

[berrys-hide-out]

Demon King or Neil

Summary: Neil and Damao are playing video games until Damao loses by a second and chaos erups

Warnings: Tickles

Characters: Lee!Neil, Ler!Damao

__ __ __ __ __

Damao and Neil were alone at home.. well more or less at least. Ira was upstairs, chilling in his room, probably sleeping.

When the young demon had asked Damao if he wanted to play video games, the werewolf thought of it as a challenge and almost immediately agreed to it.

And now they were sat in the common room, both incredibly focused on their little mario cart race, well one more then the other as Neils tail swished back and forth in Damaos sides from time to time. "I wont let you win Neil!" Damao grinned as he had the first place on their thrid and last round. The male felt Neils tail swish a little faster making him look at the little demon, seeing a smug smile "We'll see about that!" he exclaimed just the second before the screen showed the blue shell and hit Damao just a few meters in front of the finish line.

"No... come on!" he murmured and saw Neil pass him and finsih the race. "YES!" he exclaimed happily and moved to lay-sit on the cough "Hehehe sorry" Neil giggled at the pout Damao was wearing- "do you find this funny?!" the werewolf asked and raised a questioning eyebrow- his lips tuning upwards ever so slightly. - it was, it was incredibly funny, the little pout the muscular man had worn was totally out of character!

Neil smiled at him, giggles making it past his lips as he wasn't completely sure what the other was planning- still he felt brave enough "mahaybe!"- Ira would save him if that wouldn't be the case anyways- right?

Damao wasn't sure what he was expecting but a 'maybe' was definetely not it. He grinned, time to mess with him. "Y'know Neil, I think the demon king is in control" he sighed mockingly, making Neil raise an eyebrow, curious to where this will lead.

"our Neil would never do such mean thing as taking the first place right from our grasps, especially not with such a curel method!" Damao continued, speaking in a different manner then he usually would to keep things playful.

"But I just di-" "I'm going to bring Neil back to us and I already know how." Damao grinned playfully at the nervous smile on Neil's face.

what was that werewolf up to..? just a few weeks ago he was trying to avoid Neil at all costs! No that doesnt matter now- Neil would take this rare chance to bond with his roommate! The demon sat himself towards the other and put the controller away "And how..?" he asked and tilted his head- Damao punced seeing the smaller's eyes widen in shock and a small yelp escaped as he was wrestled down.

"Give in Demon King! You cannot avoid faith!" Damao exclaimed and quickly went through Neils defenses and squeezed right above the spot between his ribs and armpits. "HEhEHEY!" Neil protests with a jump, taken completely off guard.

Damao chuckled at the response and trapped Neils one hand next to his head onto the couch. "Hehe you can't escape me Demon King! I will save our Neil and bring him back!" "BUhuhUt IHI'M RiHIHihight hEHehere!" Neil shot at him, trying to glare without luck though as a soft blush dusted his cheeks.

"No way! hmmm.. maybe I'm doing this wrong.. let's try.. HERE!" he announced and let both his hands about to vibrate Neils waist earning a shriek and kicking legs "NAHA! DAHAMAHAO! HOHOLD OHON!" the demon cackled and held onto Damao's wrists.

Damao heard a door open above them- that Ira heard them.. oh well he had a Demon King to defeat!

Neils thoughts were racing, his blush growing as he noticed more and more how much he didn't mind this at all- still he was not the Demon King! He was resting inside hime yes but he was not in control!

Ira let out a chuckle and made himself known to the two "IHIHIRA HEHELP!" Neil squealed out but didn't look into the vampires direction as he tried to somehow lessen the maddening feeling. The vampire and Werewolf locked eyes for a second. Damao switched to skribbling over Neils ribs and Ira sighed while e shrugged "Not sure what he did but don't take it too far." he warned and kept walking over to the fridge.

Damao chuckled and looked at Neil who had calmed down quite a bit- still giggling uo a storm though. "You're lucky Lily doesn't know about this~" he teased, seeing Neil flush in a crimson red all the way up to his ears. "Dohon't tehell heheher!" Ira chuckled from the kitched "SHE ALREADY KNOWS!" he yelled out making Neil whine between his bubbly giggles that earned in pitch at the comment.

Damao chuckled and let up for a second. "If you're Neil and not the Demon King, I'm pretty sure you know where Lynn and Lily went." Neil huffed a chuckle "They're out for easter shopping" Damao hummed "and?" he asked with a sly grin. "and..?" Neil echoed "yeah there's another reason they're outside today." Damao told him- not leaving Neil any room to think before going back to tickling him.

"IHI wahas RIHIght thOHOugh! NohOHOhot TheHE tuHUHum- DAHAmahao!" The taller of the two clicked his tongue "That could've been a lucky guess, Easter is soon after all." he sighed but the playful smile never vanished from his features.

Ira hummed as he nibbled on his bloodsicle "if I were you Neil, I would try and fight back. Oh well, laters!" the vampire called and disappeared back to the upstairs.

Niel huffed through his giggles- how dare Ira leave him here!

Yet before the demon could make anymore protests their front door flew open showing Lily and Lynn. "Ah, welcome back." Damao greeted, letting Neil up. The demon greeted them with a giggly hello- still laying there Lily ran up to him and started to ramble about the pretty ornaments she and her brother had seen today.

Damao stood up and went to help Lynn. "oh by the way, why are you blushing so hard?" Lily suddenly asked earning wide eyes and his blush that had just began to vanish grew again.

"Neil is ticklish!" the two heard from the stairs "Ira-AHaha~"

Easter preperations could wait a little longer he guessed as Lily just continued to ramble and kept on randomly poking him.

________

hehe ~ @wertzunge I hope this was to your expectations! Tysm for the request (and sorry for the tag~)

[chase-ships]

Omi: So what’s the tea

Jermaine: What tea what you talkin’ about

Omi: Someone was snitching on Kimiko earlier and I’m pretty sure who it was

Jermaine: Who was it then?

Omi: It was Dojo

Jermaine: Oh shit! Dojo? But why would he snitch on Kimiko like that man?

Omi: I heard that Dojo was secretly jealous of Kimiko ‘cause he’s been forgotten or unwanted that’s why he’s jealous of her

Jermaine: OMG! But hey Omi pal, it’s not nice to talk like that eventually if it’s one of your friends

Omi: That’s what o was trying to tell chronicles Omi earlier that it’s not nice to talk about other people no matter how hard they’re going through

*Dashi and the others enters*

Dashi: What are you two snuggling about?

Omi: Dojo was saying some bad insult to Kimiko earlier

Eon: Why would he do that?

Omi: Because Dojo was trying to snitch on Kimiko he was trying to be slick and tell lies about Kimiko

Eon: Ohhhhhh…… well….. that’s harsh Omi you know how Dojo is and how he’s a bitch

Omi: I know he’s a bitch

XC Dashi: Well well well, I guess I’m missing the good stuff what’s going on here guys?

Dojo: Nothing is going on

Raimundo: Are you sure?

*Dojo panics*

Raimundo: Well Dashi, Dojo was trying to snitch Kimiko for something that it didn’t happened and trying to blame Kimiko for it

Eon: So that’s what’s going on huh? Dojo you’re such a bullshit and a son of a bitch like why would you making bad comments and snitching on someone? What is wrong with you?

Dojo: Okay! I’ll admit. It’s because Robin told me to do so because he’s always jealous of Kimiko and her boyfriend

Robin: Asshole you shouldn’t have to say it!

Omi: Shut up come here

*Omi punces Robin and Eon joins him*

Eon: How did that feel?

Robin: Not good I won’t do it again I promise😢😢😢😢😢

Omi: You better not and if you do or one of your friends teen titans do, I will arrest you for complicity and false accusations

Robin: Okay got it sorry!

[idgivemyeyesfor-mattmurdock]

Matt crosses roads with a journalist who's going on a hot pursuit, she's caught up in a gunfight and he saves her, the rest is your choice but pleeease let there be fluff and sassy Murdock 🥰🥰🥰

"We'll Meet Again" Matt Murdock X fem reader!

Firs of all: Love this request! low-key so much fun to write and lowly are in love with them!

Pairing: Matt Murdock X Fem reader

TW: not consented fooling around...

enjoy<3

-

You were a journalist. Yes. But you believed you were a detective. Hell, weren't they're the same thing?

You were in a club... not your scene really, but this is where all the politicians hung around after hours. This was the only way you could get an actual scoop on what went on these guy's head.

Hence, proving your story on how even the most wholesome politicians have had an intrusive thought or two.

As you stayed there; (in the club wearing the only thing you remotely had close to club attire)... you wore a black body con that was beaded from breast to toe... it glistened as the flashy lights glared off of the beads. The slit that hung from the crease of your thigh hung down to the floor, as then a politician eyed you.

"Hello there, darling." said the older man as he came up to your table, "...You look lonely."

"Do I?" you asked the blonde man who was in his, what, forties?

"A pretty girl like you doesn't deserve to be all alone... no, no, no, no! why aren't you having a fine time?"

As you took a sip of your club soda, you said with a grin, "Maybe because I've been waiting for a man like you to whisk me away... it's gotten a little boring for me"

As the blonde man extended his hand to you, he said with a sly grin, "Then I must've come at the perfect time."

As the blonde whisked you away from the scenery, you then quickly noticed what he had in plan. Frankly, what he had in plan was not what your contract with the bulletin stated.

He whisked you to the top of the building... romantic, right? He could fuck you and then push you off of the building in the name of you just trying to get a scoop.... nice, right?

As you two went up there, your mind went to how you could turn this to the key to your story. Though, as your hands settled on the rail that separated you from falling three hundred feet to the ground, you felt the guys lips slowly fall on your back.

For a second you allowed it.

Not your ideal way to get information, but he wasn't harming you, so it wasn't a total red flag, right?

Were you totally comfortable? no. Was this your scene? again... no. But was the story you were writing have the potential to save millions of lives.... yes

Through as you attempted to turn around, he settled your hips back on the rail, you said "I'm sorry can we just-"

He pressured his weight on your hips, you said "Hey, no this is not what I wanted--"

In a growl he responded, "You do what I tell you to do."

"I'll scream" you said as you turned your head to his.

as you eyes his blue eyes and locked with them, he said in a rather dark tone,"Thats what I like to hear."

Immediately, you realized this was the situation you had to get yourself out of.

You turned as his weight on you became loose, though as you met the door of the stairs, the man stopped you and pressed his overpowering self on you.

As you tried unlocking the door, you whispered, "shit shit shit" as then man then pressed his revolver down on your spin.

"You do, what I say you do."

Your heart beat was truly one people could hear from miles, nevertheless a man with heightened senses.

Hell, he could hear it from light years away if he tried.

You felt the cold end of the gun rub against your back as the seconds grew. A single tear fell down your cheek as you then realized what had become of your night.... this was it. This was the end of your life.

Though, the guardian angle you always felt seemingly appeared in the light of a man in a devil's suit.

You didn't see him, hell you were still pinned against the wall as you then heard just clashes of punches hit the blonde man's face and body. Your eyes closed as you heard the guy whine in pain, but smiled as you then sided with yourself.

He deserved it.

As you turned, you saw the devil man, though tonight he wasn't wearing horns, or a suit to protect him from aliens and sociopaths. Instead, he wore a black long sleeve that hugged every muscle perfectly. His cargo pants were tight... hell too tight for him but not your eyes. His bandana was simple; black and tightly wrapped around his face. His chin was sharp as a knife and covered with a light stubble of favial hair.

"Did you really not think that he would want to fuck with you?" asked the masked man from afar.

"I wanted information." you said as you then brushed your dress off, "He had what I wanted."

"yea, well, you had something he wanted too... maybe you guys arent too unalike."

oh, so he saves your life but then makes fun of you?

"Oh, I'm sorry, when the bulletin makes reports about you, now I know that we can add how petty you are.... that when you save them, you question them as well."

He laughed as his hands then met his hips, "you're a journalist?'

You responded as your hands met one another, "Do you have something against a journalist? what do you not serve us or something?"

A laugh escaped his mouth as he then replied, "I'm just curious... not petty. And no, I like journalist."

"Oh great, I'm on your nice list..." you said with a laugh as you then walked a couple steps forward to the masked man, "but hey, while your at it- tell me about this curiosity of yours."

"well, not everyone goes to a club at three am on a Tuesday and agrees to go with a random dude on a roof..."

Sternly, you responded, "I'm committed to my craft."

He laughed as he heard your footsteps near him, though he caught your scent. What was it? coffee with a mix of jasmine perfume? god it was lovely.

"you're crazy." said Matt as his fiery vision revealed your curly hair fall over your shoulders, "He could've hurt you."

Sarcastically, you responded with a laugh, "oh my god, like I had no idea!"

he laughed as he then heard your heart slowly race as his footsteps neared you, "why did you?" asked Matt in a lower tone, "why did you do this tonight?"

in a lower tone, you asked him, "why did you do this tonight."

Though you couldnt see his eyes, they shot up along with his brows as he heard you. "Because I, wanted to help you." said Matt.

You asked as you as he then stood a foot away from you, "By helpig me what are you doing?"

"Helping the city?" asked Matt.

"by being here, tonight-- at three am with a bunch of drunk politicians; creating a case to reveal their evil... what am I doing?"

Matt then titled his head, as he registered your motive, "helping the city..."

"so," you said with a grin, "we're not so different, are we, devil boy?"

he smiled as he heard your heart slowly race as you then inched closer to him, then only being three inches away from him, he asked: "what do I have to do to be with you again?"

You smiled as he cocked his head downwards to you, you replied in a sultry tone, "Just do what you do, and I'll do what I do, and I'll guarantee you that we'll meet again. "

-

Did you like this writing? if so check out my fic:

"Chérie" on Wattpad where Frank Castle sister and Matthew Murdock fall in love<3 (lots of trauma and smut)

please read <3

[hunting-songs]

📷

𝓟𝓲𝓬𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮𝓼 — send 📷 for my muse’s reaction to yours finding spicy photographs of mine.

"Can I see them?" By Bashos question Senritsu looked up to him and than craned her neck a little mroe because she usually was on the height of the bigger mans belt. They were standing in the hotels lobby were one of the bellboys had collected the bodyguards letters to hand those to them at the end of the day. The end of the day was so far past midnight, that the Hotel had fallen asleep under a thick blanket of quietness closing so thightly around the building that the rustling of paper as they went through the letters seemed almost loud. The images had been in a letter send to Senritsu by an Ex whos daughter had just started to hit puberty and as curious as a bee went through her fathers belongings so the man had send Senritsu the pictures to not onyl keep them out of his offsprings hands but also because they after all were pictures of the Musician. The mans question made Senritsu blink- one time, two times, three times. Than, like a curious bird she tilted her head to the side. Tapping the edge of the pictures against her chin sounded alomost loud in the quietness hanging thick like syrup in the Hotels lobby: "We share a bathroom, Basho. You took me to the Onsen when my back hurted too much. " She said slowly, amusement dancing behind every word as sweet as a song: "You have seen me in so many different states of con franchezza undress, I do not think that that pictures could show you any new aspects of me." The big mans heartbeat was curious, but just as patient like from an artist standing before a piece of ivory a second before they would start working on an artpiece. Senritsu felt a honestly amused giggle blubber up in her stomach, but swallowed it back down.

"I have seen you naked. Thats not the same as seeing someone posing to be alluring. The first one is normal, everyone is naked at some point. The latter however, is art." Basho crossed his arms before his chest, tilting his head in such a serious, specific manner it looked as legant as a dancemove: "And as a fellow artist I am always enjoying and appreciating beautiful art." Senritsu tapped the fingers of one hand against her chin- nimbly and cheekily like a teasing little melody. The smile curling around her stark frontteeth echoed this melody perfectly. She lifted the hand with the pictures : "Oh, how could I ever resist a poets silver tounge when he compares my silly pictures to sognando art."

And without breaking eyecontact with Basho the young woman handed the pictures to Kurapika standing behind her, still with that smile on her face that looked now almost catlike ready to punce at the mouse that was Basho. Laughing loudly soundedd wrongin the quietness of the lobby but it was hard to swallow it down.

"Anyway, yes, look at that- , I am resisting your silver tounge. No, I think I enjoy you not knowing those pictures more than you having a look at them. Poets write their best pieces, when they are in a dolente state.", she winked up at him friendly, chuckling in all good humor. "You are one cruel little woman.", the big mans mustache moved with a disappointed huff and Senritsu just placed her small hands on her chest too dramatically to be serious to flutter her lashes up at her collague: "Noooo, how could you think that. I just want you to write the most vezzoso poetry possible." The giggle eventually escaped her lips only to turn into a happy laughter when Basho playfully pressed his knuckles in her dimples. She- gently, very gently- pushed his big hands away from her face and the tall man walked pretended offended down the corridor, loudly proclaiming that there was no camerady left between Hunters and that he had been betrayed by his own friend horribly.

Senritsu had to hold her hands before her mouth to hold back her laughter echoing Bashos amused chuckle from down the corridor perfectly, still eventually she peered up to kurapika with laughingtears shimmering like jewels in her big eyes.

"...mhmmmmm, you are suprisingly quiet, Kurapika.", she giggled out from behind her small hands before she- carefully, very carefully- leaned her head to the side as always when she was listening attentive. "Tell me, what exactly am I hearing, mhmmmmm? Yes, I could tell myself, but I like listening to your voice and you seem to also enjoy the- " Senritsu had to bite the inside of her cheek to not start laughing out loud and instead she only chuckled gently and shaked her head scoldingly over her own stupid joke: "-heh, 'artpiece' as Basho had just so dolcissimo called it." [ @skarletchains ]

[fkyumerica]

what is marilyn manson doing with them

to walk anywhere

the jeffery, tom/eric/franklin family

wwI

his grandpa admitted he had sex with 46,000 women

impregnated 18,000 of them

and lived with the other 28,000 of them

wwII

let out cosmic dust

all day everyday

and them smoking it

saying no

to giants

to go back

at anyone

who isnt smoking

I dunno I got groups of giants now

and the giants punced out the chris's

out of the homes

of them

their mom

is chris married uma thurman

both didnt stay

christine

was the oldest one

it was a mans name

off track

they go on theirs

and breathe the only oxygen

and think about

hating everyone alive

why think of other people but their family?

they only think of hurting them

with them

their family members

so their family members go and do it

and three strikes youre out

4 kids

let them out

and see

and they plan on ruining every home

and hey

move back

we tore down every house

in canada

they broke up

and moved their

with their mom

and shut him the fuck up

gay to come back

and fuck the kids

over here

america

all it meant

was that

you believe in america

gay singing

goodbye horses

and angela

was the first wolf brigade girl to die

45,000

and all of wayde's wives

43,000

and angela

married

wayde

and all the fat gay girls

married the gay black singing guys

yoooooooooooooo

old

his sons

are those gay black guys

and any left

they kept fucking any women

to keep looking

thinner

not gay?

what i am

we pretended to kill

no one

to feed them

chris

should we leave?

yea

we can live without houses for a few years again

and go in and meet them

their kids

with them

now what

house

i dunno i got a wagon of books

fly rider

[wasteland-soul-project]

Here's an insano list that will be continually updated so I have an online record of all that Im currently receptive to include. Consider this spoilers actually.

Greens got a spot on the timeline finalized.

White is sorted by era for workload

Agar.io, Saurian,Ancestors,Far Cry,Civ,History channel,The sumerian game,Hammurabi,Ass cred,Ryse son of rome,Ghost of Tsushima,evil dead,Kingdom come deliverance,western gun,Turok,Oregon trail,Samurai western,Call of Juarez,Red Dead Revolver,GUN,This land is my land,Bioshock Infinite,Valiant Hearts,Call of cthulhu,Sea wolf,Battlefield,Mafia, front line, endless war, the saboteur,Medal of honor,Call of Dutygenesisnoir,Capcom 1942,Commando,Castle wolfenstein?The incredibles,Cathode ray tube amusemen device,La Noire remember da whorient,Bertie the Brain,Nimrod,Destroy All humans,Christophers draughts,Fonzie road race,Atomic Heart,Tennis for two, gta,Spy hunter ,Spacewar!, xcom, metal gear, resident evil, 1967 world series, team fortress, afterburner, galaxy game, computer space, pong, silent hill, night driver, elevator action, E.T, space ace, uncharted, firewatch, jalopy, contra, gone home, portal, postal, prey, max Payne, illbleed, blood, FEAR, venture bros, manhunt, dead island, dead rising, kane and lynch , bully, cherry 2000, hell comes to frog town, burt reynolds flick, socom, saints row, mercenaries, half life,Alpha protocol,Outlast,Life is strange,Payday,Sleeping Dogs,Lollipop Chainsaw,Duck dynasty, hatred, tomb raider, Evil within,Dying light, edith finch, control, trad meme, alaskan road trucker, tume pilot, disco elysium, octodad, tacoma,Van Buren Tech Demo,Five lesbians eating quiche, thag cute radioactive couple,Fallout: Zero,System Shock,One man and a crate of puppets,Fallout: Frost,Wasteland,Fallout nevada,Atom RPG,Metro,Soma,Ashes twentysixty three,Fountain of Dreams ,Organ Trail,Employee of the month,Fallout 1.5 Resurrection,Squidward suicide,Stray,Horizon,Fallout Yesterday,Jazzpunk,xcom classic, breaking badFallout New Califnornia,Mad Max,Hwarts of Iron OWB, soace station 13,Storyteller,Fallout Lanius,Fallout nuka breakFallout 4 miami,All roads,Death Stranding,Morrowind,Outer Worlds

Fallout minecraft map,Fallout:Dust

Post war:Spongebob, 60 seconds, the story must be told, fallout revelation, starcraft, space quest, dead space, broken roads, breath of death, star heroine

Prewar: 2050+, idealized-era retroscifi jetsons, overwatch, series of unfortunate events, deathloop, f zero x, afro samurai, thief reboot

Prewar 2025-50, dystopia class struggle sci fi deus ex, cyberpunk, mirrors edge, cruelty squad, final fantasy

Pre war (big mess of speculative future) home front,dishonored, naissancE, space station 13, crackdown, timesplitters, kentucky route zero, red faction, dreambreak, attack of the saucermen, metal slug

My lived yearss that one 4chan comic in france, plants vs zombies ,the boys, slender, sniper assassin, stalker, hitman, the quarry, pandemic 2, black watchmen, alien hominid, police quest, tony hawk, ape out, ace attorney, the beginners guide, arma, aemy of teo , chimamande adichi, crysis, just cause, just dance, prototype, skate, various sports, dangenrampa, true crime, post void, burger tycoon, dino crisis, the cat lady downfall devil went through here lorelei, science adventure, goldsrc counter strike, detectives united, deadly premonition, freedom fighters, eternal darkness, unboxing, that unity game abt the painting, subnautica, perfect dark, famicon wars, the darkness, captain underpants

1900s fnaf, calvin and hobbes, papers please, mother, zaxxon, heros journey, stalin vs martians, x files, tom clancy, spec ops, gorillaz, the sims, GI Joe, leisure suit larry, pathologic, cold war game, hammer and sickle, jurassic park, evil dead, james bond Tropico, sims city, ikari warriors, spy hunter, time crisis, alone in the dark, syphon filter, gabriek knight, arma cold war, chinua achebe, camara laye, persona, shenmu, yakuza, brothers in arms, company of heroes, punchout, operation flashpoint, professor layton, sniper ghost warrior, sniper elite, undying, stanley parable, hotline miam, war in the east, wings of orey, men of war, 9th company, red orchestra, iron front, death to spies, mother russia bleeds, roller coaster tycoon, counterspy, esrls day off , gaiden, shin megami, suda 57, fatal frame, gorogoa, hotel room dusk

1800s thief, amnesia, samurai champloo, jojo, dark pictures anthology, wadjet games multiverse, bloodborne

1500s sekiro

1400s Europa Universalis

1300s Demons souls classic

1100s lionheart

1000s crusader kings, chrono trigger

800s prince of persia

200 silk

100 romanc eof the three kingdoms, dynasty warriors

Ancient 0ad, pharoah, the scorpion king, sphynx and the cursed mummy, age if mythology, noahs ark, empire esrth, rise of nations, total war, tak and the power of juju, hades

Cavepeople: dawn of man, jawa mammoth, age of empires, tork, tail of the sun, echo secrets of the lost cavern,roots of patcha

Old af: jurassic the hunted, nanosaur, a prehistoric tale, id software timeline, AVP TIMELINE OLD AF, evo, evolution games of itnelligent ligr, lynn margulis, civ dinosaur war like cthulhu mythos, robert howard books, cthukhu saves