NOORA: Hey! SANA: Hi. NOORA: What is it? SANA: I’ve done some research. NOORA: Okay? SANA: I know how you’re gonna get over William. What are you doing on Friday? NOORA: What are we going to do? SANA: You have to wait and see. NOORA: No! You know what? I don’t like surprises. SARA: Hi! Did you see my e-mail? SANA: Yes, but I haven’t had the time to reply. Can’t you just contact Mari about the payment yourself? SARA: Yeah, but do you have her e-mail so I can send her the contract proposal? SANA: Nooo.. Noora, do you have it? NOORA: I think so, maybe. Just check my e-mail. SANA: What’s your e-mail then? NOORA: Loglady997. SANA: Password? NOORA: exper5. You haven’t..? It’s a totally normal password. SANA: How do you write it? E, k, s or..? NOORA: Oh my God. SANA: E, x or? C? NOORA: Yeah, just wait, oh my God don’t judge me for my passwords. Here! Just look there. SANA: What’s her name? Mari Espeflaten? NOORA: Yes. SARA: Thanks! I’ll send you a copy. SANA: Yes. Okay, you’ll join on Friday? Hello! Come on! NOORA: Oh my God, how stoked are you? SANA: Yes. I’m stoked for you getting over William, you know? Because I’m a good friend. NOORA: Yeah, what are we doing then? SANA: But- NOORA: Tell me, tell me. SANA: Are you joining if I tell you what we’re doing? NOORA: No! SANA: Come on, or I won’t tell you. NOORA: Okay, tell me what we’re doing. SANA: We’re going to a café. NOORA: We’re going to a café? SANA: Yes. NOORA: That’s.. Which one? SANA: Now you’re asking too much. NOORA: No, I’m just wondering. SANA: It has to be a bit of a surprise. NOORA: But what are we doing at the café? Are we just having a cup of coffee and enjoy ourselves or is something happening, is it like..? SANA: It’s not dangerous. It’s just a café. You’ll have to wait and see. NOORA: Oh, you’ve started rhyming too?* SANA: Yeah, naturally. NOORA: I’m coming with. No.. SANA: Never speak to me again. NOORA: Okay.. SANA: Exper55.. What rhymes with that?
[*Sana says some sentences that rhyme in Norwegian.]
“But what if she doesn’t like the real me?” Queen Bee asked, looking at the view from Marinette’s balcony. There was a nervous shake to her voice, one that revealed how scared of rejection she really was.
Marinette put a hand over hers and gave her a meaningful look. “If she’s anything like the person you’ve showed me, then there is no way she won’t like you. You’re a great person, Bee, and even if you haven’t always been nice, well… people grow and change, you know? It’ll be alright.” She gave the heroine a reassuring smile before clapping her on the back. “Now get outta here and prepare to talk your mystery lady into forgiving you,” she said with a wink.
“Yeah… yeah! I’ve totally got this!” Bee exclaimed, jumping to her feet. She waved Marinette goodbye and flew off.
“I do not totally have this,” Chloe whispered, her hand held out to knock on the door of a certain baker’s daughter’s residence. She closed her eyes and leaned forward, gently banging her head on the door. “Ugh, she’s never going to like me back.” Another thump against the door. “Even though she said that to Bee, she didn’t know it was me talking about her.” Thump. “Why.” Thump. “Did I.” Thump. “Decide.” Thump. “To do this?” Thump, thump, thump. “God, she’s going to hate meeeehi,MadameDupain-Cheng!” she squeaked when the door suddenly opened. Marinette’s mother stood before her with a kind smile.
“Hello, dear, are you here to see Marinette?” she asked in an equally kind way.
“I, uh, that is-”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll call her down for you. Come in, come in, she’ll be down in a minute,” Sabine told her, ushering her inside. Before heading up the stairs, she gave Chloe a knowing look, which only made Chloe more nervous.
She stood at the bottom of the steps for some time, heart jumping at ever sound that came from the rooms above her. She almost reached for the door to leave when she heard a shout of, “I’m coming!” and a loud crash. It was only a few seconds after that that Marinette slid to the top of the steps and climbed down them, only stopping when Chloe was directly in front of her.
Neither of them said anything, and while Marinette’s eyes bore into Chloe, Chloe’s looked anywhere but at her.
Finally, Marinette spoke. “Can I help you with something, or…?”
“No! I mean, yes! I mean, kind of? Look, I just wanted to say that I’m.” She swallowed down the lump that threatened to form in her throat “I’m sorry. F-for the stuff I’ve done to you. I don’t have any good excuses for what I did, and I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I just. Needed to tell you.” When Marinette didn’t say anything, she slumped in defeat. “Right. I’ll go now, s-”
Her words were cut off by Marinette throwing her arms around her. She froze in place, not even daring to breathe in case it broke the magic of the moment. Unfortunately for her, Marinette moved away anyways (and all too soon, if Chloe were honest with herself).
“I forgive you,” she said brightly, beaming at Chloe.
“You… you do?” she asked, awe in her voice and expression.
“Sure. You seem sincere enough, and I think this is like… the first time you’ve ever actually said sorry to someone. You didn’t make any excuses and you didn’t try to place the blame elsewhere. That’s really admirable. So, I forgive you.”
“Thank you,” Chloe breathed, sighing in relief. “I think I should, um, go now? But maybe in school we could start. Talking. And helping with makeup. And things.”
“That sounds lovely,” Marinette agreed. She waved goodbye when Chloe did, and just before the door closed behind her, Marinette called out, “Oh, and Chloe!” Chloe turned to listen. “I want you to know that I meant it when I told you you were a great person.”
Chloe smiled. “Thanks, Marinette.” The door closed, and only when she was halfway home did she realized that Marinette hadn’t said anything about her being great during their conversation. She did, however, tell Bee that she was great.
Her limo was filled with a shriek and a plea for the driver to bring her back to the Dupain-Cheng’s.
Send me a sentence starting a fic and I’ll write 5(+) more! No longer accepting prompts for this from this point on!
@canthydefromthelichtsent me kuromahi + new year’s festival so here’s a little thing we kinda wrote together :3
At a New Year’s festival, Mahiru clings to Kuro while Kuro’s eating cotton candy so they won’t get separated.
Despite not being Mahiru’s usual behavior, Kuro finds in himself that he doesn’t dislike it as much as he should. Maybe ‘cause it’s Mahiru and not someone else.
Yet, he sighs and mutters his well known 'can’t deal’ as they make their way into the crowd.
Meanwhile, Mahiru can feel his heart racing and his cheeks turning a bright shade of red, whilst he avoids any possible eye contact with his partner.
“Want some?” Kuro says, his words startling Mahiru “Cotton candy, I mean"
"N-No, I’m good. Thanks” being aware of how close they are, Mahiru can’t look Kuro in the eye
“Are you planning to avoid me for the rest of the night?” the vampire’s voice has a little bit of disappointment on his tune as he say so “Should I remind you this was your idea to begin with?"
"I just came here because you said there was something you wanted to show me” Mahiru’s hold gets tighter on his arm, as the words sink in “What was it? The thing you wanted to show me”
“..works” he mumbles, Kuro tilting his head in response “I want you to see the fireworks with me!"
That’s the first time Mahiru lock eyes with Kuro that night..
Hello, my loves! I’ve unfortunately run into a bit of trouble with my car, which needs some pretty expensive work done to fix an issue with the brakes. To help pay for this I’ve decided to temporarily open commissions for busts (head + shoulders). I’ll be opening five slots at a time (first come, first serve) and will update availability as I go. Thank you!!
Contact Info / Payment
Contact me at email@example.com if you’re interested
Payment is via Paypal in USD
Type of commission (sketch or flats)
Commission details (pose, expressions, etc.)
Reference images or detailed written descriptions
I’ll start working as soon as I receive payment, and I’ll send you progress shots as I go
Commissions can be used however you choose as long as credit is given and it’s not for monetary gain
I Won’t Draw
Furries / anthro
Explicit gore / NSFW (I will draw mild versions of each, but I’ll discuss that with you when you contact me)
HI I WOULD LIKE TO NICELY AND KINDLY SUGGEST BRUCE CUDDLING FOUR (4) GRANDBABIES THAT MAKE FUN OF HIS CREAKY BONES AND WRINKLY CHIN. SNUGGLES. THEY ALL FALL ASLEEP ON EACH OTHER. OTHER OPTIONS INCLUDE BRUCE HOLDING A GRANDBABY FOR THE FIRST TIME. I BEG U FOR BABIES THAT IS ALL
Her name was Mary.
Mary Martha Grayson.
He held her gently, cradled in his arms like something precious - and she was, she was precious beyond measure, she was beautiful and perfect and he would die for this little girl in less than a beat of her tiny heart. Her eyes were closed and she slept peacefully, but Bruce had heard her first cries hardly an hour before.
They had been loud and strong and the sound had taken his breath away. He had gone weak at the knee and his chest had tightened so much he’d thought it might burst.
And now he was holding her, wrapped up in her little blanket with her little cap on her head, gazing down at her little face and not even trying to hold back the tears that came to his eyes.
“Bruce?” Dick said softly. He stood beside him, eyes still red-rimmed from crying his own tears of joy at Mary’s birth. “Are you…?”
Bruce looked up, from his granddaughter to his son, and smiled so widely it hurt. His vision was blurred, but he laughed, snuggling Mary closer to his chest and leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.
“I love her,” he whispered. “I love her so much, Dick. She’s beautiful.”
Mary snuffled in her sleep and shifted a bit, making a tiny, barely-audible squeak.
If Bruce’s heart hadn’t already melted to a puddle on the floor an hour ago, it most certainly would have now.
“Shh, sweetheart,” he murmured. “You can sleep. I’ve got you.”
Six years later…
“Granpa?” Little hands prodded him shyly. “Granpa? Are you awake?”
Bruce opened his eyes blearily and turned his head toward the small, quiet voice. After a second of adjusting to the darkness of the room, he saw Mary’s face at the side of his bed, pale and frightened and wet with tears.
He was awake instantly, lifting his head up off his pillow and stretching his arm out to her, careful not to wake the other children. He brushed away her tears gently, and she brought her hands up to wrap around his wrist.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he whispered. “Are you okay? Did you have another nightmare?”
Mary nodded silently, bottom lip trembling. Bruce’s heart broke a little; Mary was unfortunately prone to nightmares, and it was rare that she went more than two or three weeks without one. She would wake up from them crying and go to her parents, and Dick and Barbara would let her sleep with them for the rest of the night.
And since she was staying the night with Bruce, Dick and Barbara having been blindsided by some urgent business in Metropolis, she had come to him.
He pulled back the covers and patted the bed beside him. “Climb in here with me,” he said softly. “But try to be quiet, okay? We don’t want to wake the others.”
Mary clambered up, glancing at the three sleeping children that also shared his bed tonight. Her siblings the twins, four-year-old Jade and Jasmine, lay curled around each other like kittens on top of his legs, which had gone numb. Peter - Tim’s son, little Petey, almost two - was on top of him, sprawled across his chest and left arm, which was also numb.
Mary tucked herself against his side, snuggling close as he put his free arm around her. “Do you remember your bad dream?” he asked quietly. He felt Mary shake her head no, and he ran his fingers through her soft hair comfortingly. “That’s alright,” he murmured. “Whatever it was, it can’t hurt you.”
Mary buried her face into his side. “It was scary,” she whispered.
With a bit of maneuvering, he twisted enough so he could press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Shh, sweetheart. You can sleep. I’ve got you.”
I DIDN’T GET EVERYTHING YOU ASKED FOR BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT
(the google doc for this was titled ‘BATMAN + BABIES’. I felt that was something you’d appreciate knowing)
Fun fact! At the company I work for, we do large weddings, including celebrity weddings, so a common scene in the shop is me crying over the 100th or so arrangement in the same style I’ve made since 8 am and then the one gay guy (freaking Tim) gets to do the single bridal bouquet and I c r y. (I think Yuuri would be me and Mari would be Tim)
HAHA Probably when they worked with their parents when they were younger Mari would absolutely be Tim.
I think since Yuuri is usually in the shop now his parents and Mari take care of the heftier order arrangements!
This was so nice of you to send, thank you! I’m learning lots from the florists who view this AU, so I’m always glad to hear from you guys!
♔: Finding the other wearing their clothes- Percy and Annabeth
♔ finding the other wearing their clothes | Percabeth
warning: dork alert
If there was one thing in this world that Percy was good at, it was losing things. It was like a superpower. If he’d been a superhero instead of a demigod, his ability would be to lose things.
Well, that or being able to, like, play the harmonica.
As good as Percy was at losing things, his yellow sweater shouldn’t have been so hard to find. His “closet” - more like the floor or any flat surface he could toss clothes on - consisted of mainly dark colors, with a lot of blue. His sweater would stick out like a bright fish swimming in dark waters.
“Annabeth?” he called. “Hey, babe—”
Oh, right. She’d gone out only an hour ago to run some errands; she’d probably be back soon. Percy checked the time and winced.
“Where is it?” he hissed, tugging the drawers open again even though he’d looked through them three times now. Percy shoved his clothes to the side and found a striped sock instead.
“Not the time,” he told the left sock. “Nope. Why is it that everything goes missing and shows up at the wrong time?”
Percy tossed the offending sock back into the drawer and used his foot to push it shut. He crossed his arms and looked around the room. Curled up on the rug, Yuki lifted her head to look at him, then whined.
“I know, girl,” he said, sliding down to the floor so he could run a hand over her floppy ears. “Losing stuff sucks.”
She pushed her wet nose into his hand in response.
“At least someone gets me,” Percy grumbled. He threw up his hands.
Rachel had asked him ages ago to take part in a photoshoot for saving the bees, and he’d agreed, albeit a bit warily. She’d promised there’d be no glitter or gold paint, so Percy figured it couldn’t be too bad.
“What am I gonna do, Yuki? Hey, Rach, I hope it’s okay if I’m wearing orange to save the bees—”
A horrible thought occurred to him.
Percy twisted his fingers together and went to the other side of the room, where Annabeth had her own set of drawers. Their clothes still generally tended to end up in each other’s drawers, but they kept them anyway. He tugged open the top drawer and was greeted with rows of bras and panties, most of them simple but a few lacy with lots of strings.
He shut the top drawer as quickly as possible, trying desperately not to imagine Annabeth in them — the black one against her warm skin, his fingers sliding under the straps, his lips on hers, then down her neck and—
“Sweater,” he said aloud, sucking in a deep breath. “Sweater.”
He found one in the second drawer. Annabeth’s was a paler yellow - more pastel and quite pretty. He pulled it out, letting it unfold, and Percy grinned. It was perfect. The sleeves were longer than he’d expected, so it’d kind of fit, and there was even a little bee right over the heart.
Percy took off his shirt and slipped Annabeth’s sweater on. In the mirror in the corner, his reflection stood; he looked at himself and found that it didn’t look half-bad.
The sweater was just a bit short. Percy tugged at it uncomfortably. On him, it was more like a crop top than anything, which meant he’d be baring his midriff on camera today. At second thought, the sweater seemed like just the kind of thing Rachel would approve of.
On the bed, his phone buzzed and lit up.
On your way yet?
He looked at the time. It was a thirty-minute drive over to Rachel’s studio, so it was just about time to leave.
On the floor, Yuki’s ears raised. She stood, shaking herself, and looked out of the bedroom excitedly. A second later, the sound of the key in the lock rang through the apartment.
He shoved his phone in his pocket and grabbed the backpack he’d had ready, slinging it over a shoulder.
The door opened, and Annabeth stepped in.
“Hey, Percy,” she said absentmindedly, dropping the keys in the little dish by the door and pulling her sunglasses down. She was carrying the groceries, but that wasn’t what made Percy stop. It was the sweater she was wearing - a mustard yellow color, the sleeves long and the sweater baggy, falling to her thighs.
“Oh,” he said, and she turned to find him still staring at her. “So that’s where it went.”
“Where what—” Annabeth said before looking down. She lifted her eyes back up towards him and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s really comfy, okay? And is that… is that my sweater?”
He crossed his arms defensively, striding across the room to meet her. “You stole mine first, you thief.”
“Mmhm,” she hummed, looking up at him. Percy couldn’t help it; his mind went back to that top drawer, and he put his arms around her, fingers pressing against the soft sweater at her back.
“You look nice,” Annabeth continued, and her eyes flicked down to his stomach before flicking back up. Her voice had gone low. “I like this on you.”
Long, calloused fingers found his bare skin; Annabeth’s hands slid up his back, lingering for a moment at his Achilles’ Heel. He shuddered, and Annabeth lifted on her toes to kiss him.
“Going to Rachel’s?” she asked against his lips.
“Yeah,” he mumbled back, but now that she was in his arms, it was a lot harder to leave.
“Just don’t go,” Annabeth said, and kissed him again. “Stay here with me.”
“That’s a really bad idea,” he said.
“You’re good at that,” she said, smiling.
“Yeah,” Percy said. He showed up to Rachel’s half an hour late.
‘non sexual,’ i said, then proceeded to imply lots of stuff while crying. im sorry mari it wasnt supposed to be like this,,
but… thank u so much i’ve missed percabeth and i struggled with pjo and this made me feel really good it was so good to write <3
First Comes Love, Then Comes Marriage... (Part 1/2)
Pairings: Dean x Reader (Series Rewrite Setting) Word Count: 8,896. Summery: The boys have been gone for over a month now. But after being reunited once again with the man you love, there’s a surprise waiting for him. Warnings: Spoilers for season eleven and twelve! “First Blood” to be exact. (If you squint just enough, this just might be considered a rewrite.) Mary might be a bit OOC. Also, mentions of pregnancy/miscarriages.
I know what you’re thinking; Shouldn’t this be the second part to “Sam, Interrupted” and not some drabble that turned into a monster, Danielle?! Sigh. I’m so far behind on writing/this season in general. But this came out after I have been wondering what might happen in season twelve with the reader in my rewrite series. (As some of my amazing followers sent in some ideas of their own.) You don’t need to have read it to enjoy, but since a lot of people seem to like the dynamics between the both of them, I decided to give you guys a treat! Also, “Swamp Meat” rewrite for my lovely Sam girls is in the works, too. ;) For those who want to embark on a fourteen page journey that took me two days to write, enjoy!
Pairing : Alexander Hamilton x Washington!Reader; Platonic Washingdad x Reader
Time : Hamiltime
Reader’s Gender : Female
Warnings : Mentions of slaves, Alexander being a huge flirt, thats it this is just pure fluff
Possibility Of Having a Second Part : Not really
Genre : Fluff
Request : None
Word Count : 3196
Summary : You are George Washington’s only daughter and you’re attending a ball being hosted at your house. After hours of people using you to get some sort of connection with your father, you’re surprised to find someone who just wants to know you for you. You find out he’s quite the flirt, though.
“Mother, it’s gorgeous, but it’s just a bit.. I don’t know..”
“Hush, surely you’ll find a way to fit your head in.”
You stood from your seat and reached for the wine red dress. Hooking your hand through both of it’s sleeves, you held it up to your chest and at your mother with a raised brow in question who only eyeballed the dress to find the problem with the dress you were worrying about.
“It’s not my head I’m worried about. It’s just, a bit revealing. It looks like I’m on display.”
Your mother, Martha Washington, nodded in understanding. Or the best she could understand. Taking the dress from your hands she handed it off to a slave that awaited by the doorway. With a hushed whisper into the woman’s ear, she waved her hand and sent the woman off.
You examined your mother, a questioning glint in your eye. She only smiled and shoved her finger into the air, silently telling you to be patient. You decided it was best to obey and remained quiet until the woman returned back with your dress, not wanting to cause any trouble with your family the day that they were all stressing for anyways. And just as you expected, the woman came back with the same dress with small modifications. She returned to your mother with the ruby dress. You noticed a bit more cloth covering the chest area.
“Thank you, Mary.”
Said woman curtsied and made her way back to the doorway to wait for any more things that you might have needed her for.
Your mother turned to you and held it up to your chest, eyeing both you and the dress for your approval.
“Is this better?”
Your let your eyes wander down the dress that was currently being held up to you, admiring every swirl of pattern or trying to look for any splotch of discoloration, none. It was imperfectly perfect. You nodded and thrusted your head upwards to look at your mother.
Martha grabbed one of your hands gently and used it to take over hers, you held the dress steadily as she stepped back and admired you for a few beats.
“Go on and get dressed then, the ball starts soon and we can’t have the host and hostess’s daughter being late, can we?”
She left the room sporting a smile with Mary and, from what you could assume, went off to go check on your father.
“Y/N, be done in an hour’s time. I’ll send Mary back up here by then to do your makeup and hair.”
You silently nodded at your mother’s voice that was faint and muffled.
“You look lovely, darling.”
Your eyes darted to your father in the mirror. You could see his figure peeking out from the doorway and into your room from the reflection of your vanity table. Mary made quick work of clasping on your necklace, adjusting it slightly so it was centered right between your collarbones and stepped away from you.
You murmured a quiet ‘thank you,’ and faced your father with a frown.
“Mother want’s me to court someone. She said this ball is a good opportunity to meet someone.”
Your father crossed his arms and tutted his head up in a swift motion.
“My only daughter? Courting someone? No, tell your mother to wait for you to be at least eighty.”
You raised one brow at him and leaned against the vanity, propping up your elbow.
“Dad, I’m not going to wait sixty years to just court someone.” With that, you rotated your seat so you could face the mirror again.
George walked over to you and clamped a hand over your shoulder, looking at you through the mirror.
“Fine. But if you’re going to court someone, wait a few years before marriage at least. And the man better be capable of courting my daughter. I’ll decide if he’s good enough.” His statement was halfheartedly playful and serious.
You rolled your eyes and slumped your shoulders,
“he definitely requires your blessing for my hand, but I believe I can court whoever I please to.”
He shook his head at your stubbornness,
“sure, honey. Let’s just get you ready and head downstairs and into the ballroom, okay? The Winter’s Ball is going to be the most important one of the century!”
You smiled at your father’s enthusiasm,
“Lucky for you, I just finished getting ready when you came in.”
“Great, then allow me to escort you down.”
Your father held out his arm for you to link and you did so, happily.
Both of you walked out, arm in arm, out of your room and down the extravagant curved stairway that was covered in flowers. You were hauled up in your room all day trying on every dress your mother threw at you that you haven’t noticed the flight of stairs in your house was decorated nicely. Besides the flowers, you were oblivious to the crowd of people that quieted at the sight of you linking arms with Washington. Noting this, he leaned over and whispered,
“Seems you’re the main attraction.”
At his words, you scanned the wave of people with wide eyes. Your eyes shone with excitement as you smiled and let your hand linger over the flowers you passed on your way down.
“Is that Washington’s daughter?”
“Think I have a chance to court her?”
Everybody grabbed someone and whispered among themselves, trying to pry their eyes off of you. Washington smiled at this and grinned,
“with this much appeal, you’ll be marrying someone by the end of the night.”
You laughed quietly, trying to scan the crowd for someone suitable to dance with. It was quick, but your eyes met with brown ones. They belonged to someone who tied back brown hair and a goatee.
“Not without your blessing, of course.” You joked, diverting your gaze from the stranger.
“Good. But, just, don’t go for one of my soldiers, okay? If things go wrong at war I don’t want to risk your heartbreak.”
You nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. Removing your hand from the scattered roses you held it up to your forehead, saluting him playfully.
“Y/N,” He chortled. Removing his arm from yours and placing it on the small of your back, he pushed you forward.
“Good luck.” With those words, you were in the crowd. Instead of getting lost in it, everybody moved aside so you had plenty of room to yourself. You politely smiled and shook hands with anybody and everybody that greeted you. It wasn’t a shock that half of the people that came up to you wanted to have an upper hand than others and wanted to have some sort of connection with the Washington family.
“If you want to talk to my father, he’s open. I ask of you, please do not socialize with me just to talk to my father-” You groaned at your drink, swirling it slightly and spoke without sparing a glance at the speaker. The voice chuckled lightly,
“Actually, miss, I’m here to ask for a dance.” Your eyes quickly snapped up to the speaker and you apologized quickly for the misconception.
“Oh! I apologize,” awkwardly, you laughed.
He held out his hand for you to take, and gladly, you did. You didn’t let it go unnoticed that this was the same man you’ve seen among the flock of people a few moments ago. He had the same chocolate brown eyes you could get lost in. A few strands of hair strayed from his ponytail and onto his face, giving him a frazzled look, but you admired it either way.
He smiled at you and placed a hand against your clothed waist.
You raised an eyebrow and returned the grin,
“Hamilton? You’re one of my father’s soldiers.”
You both swayed to the music. He dipped you low and pushed closer,
Your feet clanked against the floor with a thud, and you used it as leverage to push yourself up, causing Alexander to stumble a bit.
“I was told not to marry a man that worked for my father.”
His head tilted to the side, and he twirled you before pulling you back flush against his shoulder.
“Who said anything about ‘marriage?’“
Your breath hitched. You just had to say that, didn’t you? God damn you and your loud mouth. But it was too far to turn back now and embarrass yourself further, so instead of backpedaling you carried on with your burst of confidence.
“I believe I didn’t stutter, I just mentioned it.”
His grin morphed into a smirk.
“You’re very straight forward.”
“So I’ve been told,”
from the corner of your eye you could see everybody switching partners. Hamilton seemed to take notice of this too, so he let out a toothy smile and spun you into someone else’s arms.
“’till we meet again, Hamildin.”
“Hamilton.” He corrected, still spinning you.
“Right,” with that, you were in another man’s arms. He had curly hair tied back into a ponytail. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Hamilton was a handful. Sure, you were used to being flirted with, but doing the flirting is something you never imagined yourself to do. It just seemed out of the picture whenever talking to any other guy. You, yourself didn’t realize you had the capability to flirt. And from the results of it, you were proud you did.
“Mademoiselle.” The deep voice startled you a bit but after a bit of composing, you faced your new partner with a bright smile.
“Lafayette, je vous ai manqué!” /I missed you/
“Moi aussi, mon ami.” /me too, my friend/
He paused to take a quick glance behind you and at Alexander, who was currently dancing with Margaret Schuyler. /that’s peggy lol/ His attention quickly diverted back to Peggy once he caught on to Lafayette’s eyes that stood warily on him with a suggestive grin.
“Je vois que vous connaissez le Tomcat.” /I see you know the Tomcat/
“Tomcat?” You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head in confusion and amusement.
Lafayette narrowed his eyes at you before breaking out into a grin, quickly disregarding his French language to speak to you straightly.
“You’re falling for him, Y/N.”
“I am not!” You slammed your foot against the wooden floor, mimicking a child’s actions. Lafayette bellowed, spinning you back to Alexander and taking Peggy into his arms from Alexander. Both of you switched partners and now you were back to Alexander, dancing with him and adjusting to the different partner you now sported.
“You just couldn’t get enough of me, could you?” Your eyebrow raised at his words, trying to suppress a roll of your eyes to remain your ladylike aura and the reputation as ‘Washington’s only, lovely, quiet daughter.’ But you couldn’t help but let a little bit of sass slip past your cherry tinted lips.
“Oh? I seem to believe it was the other way around. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of me while I was dancing with Lafayette. Or am I wrong, Hamilton?” He paused his dancing at your comment, freezing his movements, causing your grin to grow twice it’s size. He shook it off, returning back to his smug attitude.
“Please, no formality from such a pretty girl. I’d prefer for you to address me as Alexander,” he leaned into you, pressing his chest against yours. The chocolate brown eyes you adored flickered from your orbs to your parted lips, and you swore his face was getting closer to yours. You could feel his breath fanning over yours, mixing.
“Besides, that’s what you’ll be screaming later.”
Your eyes fluttered shut, and you could a feel a pool of heat swirl around in your stomach. Butterflies swarmed it as you longed to feel his lips against yours. But before you could feel that, your eyes glanced over to the side to see George Washington, your father, getting a clear view of what was happening. He held his glass with champagne with a raised eyebrow, as if he was mocking you he puckered his lips and pressed the rim of his glass against it. You let out a breath and pulled away from Alexander, still in his arms but with enough space so that your face wasn’t inches away from his.
“I think I prefer calling you Hamilton, if that’s alright.”
You could see the disappointment flash across his face and you almost felt bad. Almost.
“No, of course. Whatever fits you best.”
You smiled and grabbed his hand, removing it from your waist and taking a quick scan of the room to make sure nobody had their eyes on the two of you.
“Great! Now let’s get outside before my father starts questioning where I’ve went.”
Hamilton, who was somehow able to mask his disappointment with amusement, trailed behind you and chuckled.
“Someone’s eager to get their dress hiked up.”
You continued to walk elegantly towards your destination, scowling at Hamilton’s words.
“Gross. If you want the privilege of having fornication with me, you’ll have to court and place a ring on me first.”
Hamilton shrugged as you tugged his arm from behind you.
“Guess I can wait for you.”
You smiled at this and removed your hand from his to pull open two tall, grand, glass, double doors. You made your way out onto the balcony. The wind of the night hit you square in the face, brushing past the hair that sat on your shoulders onto your back. Your eyes narrowed from the burst of wind, but you didn’t let it bother so much that you spun yourself and laid your warm fingers against a cool railing.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” You questioned, staring up at the night sky. The question was more directed to yourself than him, but he answered anyways.
You were so concentrated on watching the stars twinkle that you almost didn’t register that he laid both of his hands against your waist and pressed the front of his body against the back of yours. With a bit of annoyance that he took your attention away from the view you slightly turned your head so that you could take a peek at him from over your shoulder.
“This seems a little suggestive, what’s the rush? Didn’t you say you could wait?”
He closed his eyes and laid his head against your shoulder.
“I know, and I did.” He opened his eyes to see you smiling down at him. He, too, smiled at the sight.
“I’m not doing this to get closer with your father, or for the sex. God, Y/N, I want to live this moment with you forever.”
You felt your jaw clamp shut and you cheeks burned with something you identified as blushing. Your laugh was small, making it painfully obvious how flustered you were. Quickly, you turned your head away from him to focus on the stars again. Cocking an eyebrow and snickering, he reached forward and placed a hand against your cheek, lightly pulling so you could return to looking at him. You could have easily pulled away and continued to stare at the bright forms of gas that float in the sky, but instead, you turned your head with his touch and melted into it. Once your eyes met with his, you felt something more than just a want. You needed this man. He smiled at you adoringly and you turned your entire body to meet his.
“Damn, what I would pay to see this forever.”
Both of your brows flew upwards and you laughed loudly, unattractively even.
“That was a sad try, Hamilton.”
He let out a small noise, that could pass as either a scoff or a laugh, you were unsure of which it was.
“You’re adorable when you laugh, much better than the ‘I’m practically the princess of the states’ act you wear.”
You jaw opened in offense as you leaned against the railing and crossed your arms over your chest, puffing it up.
“I don’t put up a princess act!” You huffed.
“Please, I can see the crown sitting atop of your head.” You rolled your eyes and shoved a finger against Hamilton’s chest, pushing him back.
You cleared your throat and let out a quick puff of air.
“I’m Alexander Hamilton. I’m the biggest flirt in the world and I have a strong belief I can get any girl into my bed!” You laughed. He opened his mouth to protest, but you continued,
“If your ego was a person it’d be taller than you.”
“Hey! I’m not that short.” He whined.
“Yeah? I’m almost the same height as you.”
He eyed your head, double taking your height difference. He searched his head for any sort of excuse or comeback,
“you’re wearing heels.”
Your body shook from laughter, not caring about formality with Alexander anymore. You both were beyond formalities at this point.
Lifting part of your dress for Hamilton to see, you wiggled your feet to show that you in fact weren’t wearing heels, but flats. He grunted.
“Okay, I’m short. But I’ve got the brain twice my size.”
Snickering you spoke up,
“don’t forget your ego is too.”
It took a little longer than last time to compose himself, but he straightened out his posture and smiled,
“it’s good to have a big ego. It shows confidence.”
“Yep, narcissism is definitely the way to a girl’s heart.” You quipped.
He inched towards you, thought you didn’t notice it and placed both of his hands against your cheeks, pulling your face against his. The feeling of his slightly chapped lips against your smooth ones cut off your laughter. Your eyes shot open from revelation. Your eyes scanned over his face, checking to see if he meant was he did, but no matter how hard you tried to seek for it all you could see was his closed eyes and flushed cheeks.
After a few seconds of convincing yourself he wanted this, wanted you, you allowed your eyes to shut and enjoy the moment. Though, with the need for oxygen coming in the way, he pulled away and eyed you to check if you regretted anything, just as you did a few seconds earlier. Instead of what he expected to be you pulling away and mumbling about how the kiss was a mistake, you smiled widely at him and let your eyes flutter shut again.
“Damn.” Both of you were breathless from the kiss and from each other’s presence.
Your hands flew to his jaw to hold as his adjusted to your waist, slowly maneuvering downwards.
“Keep your hands above the equator, son.”
Startled from the sudden voice, you jumped away from Hamilton as he did you. Your eyes searched the balcony for the owner to the voice and when it fell flat against the speaker, you groaned and buried your face into your hands, turning more red than you were before.
“Please…just hear me out…” Mary begs, her eyes were stern.
You raised an eyebrow at her, not saying anything.
“What they’re doing…what we’re doing it’s better. The British Men Of Letters are…well, loo I’m not blind to who they are and what they’ve done.” She looked at you when she said that. “When?” Your Dad asked, clenching his jaw. “When….when did you start working with them?” “Before the lakehouse…It wasn’t Wally who gave me the case, it was them.” Mary looked down. “Cas nearly died!” Uncle Dean shouted at her. “I know…” “Another Hunter died.” Dad added. “I know. I was the one who burned his body, who told his wife… I see him die every night.” “Good.”
“I’m playing three decades of catch-up here.” Mary argued, turning the subject back to herself. “We’re not!” Uncle Dean snapped. “We’re your sons, you have a granddaughter for Gods sake!”
“I’m not just a Mom. And you are not a child.” Mary spoke through gritted teeth. “I never was.” Uncle Dean changed his tone back to a quieter and calmer voice.
“You’ve made your choice, Mary.” You looked up when he used her real name “The doors there.”
With that Uncle Dean stepped out of the room, no doubt to his own.
You stood up with your Dad, both watching as he turned the corner.
“Sam…” Mary whispered.
“You should go.”
Dad turned to leave, but stopped to see your response, hovering in the doorway.
You gulped, not sure what to say. You didn’t trust them at all. Hell, you lived with them, you were raised among them and you still didn’t know half of what goes on. But you didn’t hate them. They weren’t fair, kind or honest, but they were good at what they did.
“Please, you know more than any of us about the British Men Of Letters. Am I doing the right thing?” She asked, begging for someone to assure her.
Uncle Dean crept back, standing behind Dad to see what you’d say.
You avoided everyone’s gaze “The way they see it,” You spoke slowly and quietly “If you’re working with em, then you trust em. So you can’t turn back now. Don’t mess up. Cause I ain’t gonna be there to clean the stab wound in your back.”
“I’m fed up of this whole peace maker crap!” Uncle Dean’s voice made you slow down as you headed towards the main room. “You’re always playing the middle, for once just pick a side!” He stormed out, almost walking into you. “You’re quiet when you move, anyone ever tell you that?” You found it hard to know whether or not he was joking, but smiled awkwardly none the less. “I’m outta here.” Uncle Dean mumbled, walking away.
“He seems happy.” You sarcastically noticed, walking in on your Dad. Dad placed his phone screen-down on the table, cleared his throat and smiled at you. “Hey, Y/N. You okay?” “Mmhmm. What’re you doing?” You nodded towards his phone. “I’m not texting anyone!” “You know, it works better if I accuse you first.” You smirked.
Dad looked down, sighing. “Mom.”
“I was texting Mom. She uh,” He picked his phone up and showed you the screen “She wants to meet. Say’s it’s urgent.”
“Yeah, I got that.” You hold your screen up tom showing the exact same text.
He frowned, nodding slowly. “Okay…should we go?”
You sighed “I guess.”
Dad pulled the car up, stopping in front of some sort of giant gate where Mary stood the other side. It looked a lot like one of their old temporary base camps they had scattered around the counties back in England.
You got out, sending her a suspicious frown. Mary smiled shyly “Thank you for coming.” “What’s so urgent?” Dad asked, not buying any niceness. “Look, Sam, Y/N…I messed up. But this. This is so much bigger than we are. We’ve got a real shot here.” “Don’t you think I know that.” You snapped. “Y/N, I don’t know what kind of history you have with them. But they’re not the same people you grew up with. They want to help.” “I know. I’m not stupid.” You hissed. “Just….imagine a world without monsters of demons-” Mary began but you finished it for her. “-or any of those little buggers that go bump in the night. Of a world where no one has to die because of the supernatural. A new world. A better world.”
“How do you know what he said?” Mary asked. You rolled your eyes “Because he says the same bloody thing every time.”
She nodded slowly before retreating to place her hand on the lock. The gate clicked open and she stepped aside “Let me show you.” As you walked through the camp, you wondered if your hand would still unlock the gate. Maybe it would…maybe it wouldn’t…would it even matter?
A little reluctant to show your face, you stayed close to Dad. He noticed you were more clingy than usual, but didn’t say anything. “Look.” Mary held her hand out to the series of monitors, endless screens showing all sorts of things. This was nothing compared to what was at the Chapter House. “You do realise I’ve seen all this before.”You grumbled. “I guess it’s me showing you what you walked away from.” Mary answered back- to your surprise.
“Sam Winchester.” Micks voice made you look away, “And Y/N Winchester-Brooks.” He smiled, clearly happy to see that you both showed up. You noticed he’d used both surnames. “Hows the American hunting life been treating you?” He asked you, clearly wanting to separate you from your Dad. “It’s different.” You shrugged. “Very different.” Mick agreed. “That does’t make it bad.” You added. In fact, you preferred the way American Hunting worked, it was more fun if nothing else.
“You’re just in time for the briefing. Remember how we exterminated all the vampires in the Uk and Ireland?” Mick looked at you again. “Yeah.” “Guess what we’re gonna do.” He chuckled, leading the way.
You looked at Dad, as if waiting for him to say you could go on after him. Mary went on, Dad looked at you. You shrugged, “Your call.” Sighing, he put an arm gently on your back and you headed over.
The room wasn’t particularly large, but it had a long table running through the center with some computer screens at the front. Each of which had a map on it, numbers and symbols ran along the sides.
Mary sat down,but you and Dad remained standing.
“Everyone, we’ve got a few new faces.” Mick declared.
“This is Pierce, an American Hunter. This is Sam Winchester, Mary’s son. And you all know Brooks…Y/N.”
Serena and Alton looked at you, both with unreadable expressions. “Back already, are we?” Alton questioned. You scowled at him “Still a wimp, are we?” “Am not.” He stood proudly, you took one stride forward towards him. Immediately he retreated a little. “Are to.”
“We are not children.” Mick sighed “So shut up the pair of ya.”
“In the mid western region we mapped out every single location of each of the vampires,” Serena gestured towards the screen “Over a period of a few months, we’ve managed to eliminate all but,” She pressed a button and the numbers began to disappear before you all “11.”
“Wait, what?” Dad questioned, tilting his head.
“There’s a sort of underground chain of Vampires, with one a the very top-”
“The Alpha.” Dad filled in, nodding slowly.
“Exactly. We plan to eliminate every last bloodsucker in the entire country. Eventually, America will be vampire-less.” Mick explained.
As the briefing continued going into more and more details you couldn’t care less about you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. You thought you’d finally escaped the dull life that was being part of the Men Of Letters, as a kid there was no freedom. You did whatever they told you to do. You’d finally gotten out and here you were being dragged in again…of all people to be the one to take you back, it was your own family.
You weren’t against the British Men Of Letters, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t hold some sort of grudge against them. Technically, they killed your Mum….and your sister. But, technically they didn’t. There were two different perspectives and at this point you didn’t know which was worse.
Too busy staring off into space to notice the briefing was over, Mick broke you form your thoughts. “So, what do you think of our little operation?” He asked, clearly directing the question at your Dad. “Serena and Alton are smart…Pierce is…well…pierce.” Dad sighed, no doubt thinking a lot more than speaking. “Y/N…Anything?” Mick raised an eyebrow. You were amazed he actually wanted to know what you thought. You shrugged “There’s not much to say. It worked in England…so why can’t it work over hear?”
Mick nodded “I’m glad you’re as confident in it as I am.” You stuttered, lost for words in a response. You weren’t expecting him to say that, let alone twist your words. He chuckled before leaving you be.
“You okay?” Dad asked, looking down at you. “Sure…let’s go with that.” He scoffed “Y/N, I’m serious. If you don’t want to be here-”
“Guys!” A worried cry interrupted him, reluctantly dragging your attentions away. Everyone huddled around the screen, watching curiously. Vampires spread out on screen, beginning to surround the buildings.
“We need to go on lockdown.” You broke the silence. Everyone sprung into action. Mary grabbed a walkie-talkie and ordered “Stand down. Do not engage.” as you ducked out of the room to go and check that the doors were all sealed up. You twisted the handles, waiting for a red light and steamed hiss to sound before moving on to the next.
After checking and double checking that they were all as secure as they could be, you raced back into the room, twisting round corners and heading straight for where the noise was. Inside, your Dad was leaning forward, holding a vampire by his neck. “How did they even find us?!” Mick questioned. “Calm down, you’re panicking.” You shushed him, getting a knife and laying it on the table. “He told us. Our Father.” The Vampire laughed. You frowned, glancing at Dad. “The Alpha.” Dad declared. Before the Vampire could say anything else Mary swung at it with her blade in a scything motion, cleaning cutting through the neck. It fell to the floor, making Alton grimace.
It amazed you how many people had never been trained or accustomed to field-work.
“Where’s the avd?” You asked. “In the armory. Along with most of our weapons.” “If we put it through the vents it should take them all out.” Mary suggested, following your train of thought. “Exactly, let’s go get it.”
“Will it kill him…will it kill the Alpha?” Mick asked. “Not wanting to be the bearer of bad news, but he does seem to be a big issue for us.”
“It’ll weaken him,” Dad piped up “But he won’t die from it.”
You watched Mick’s face as it turned to realisation. Him and Mary shared a look that said they were both thinking the same thing. You frowned. “Where is it?” Mary asked.
After a few minutes of confused waiting Mick appears back and places down some sort of case. He unhooked the clips and opened it up, swerving it round on the table slightly to both you and your Dad could see it. “What is it?” You asked curiously, racking your brain to try and think of if you’d ever seen it before. “The colt.” Dad answered bluntly, lifting it up in his hands delicately. His face was of amazement as he held it out in front of himself like he couldn’t quite believe it was tangible and there in front of him. “There are only five things in existence it can’t kill.” “Geez.” You mumbled, noticing the empty barrel “Too bad it’s out of ammo.” You noted before asking “Can we make some?”
“Yeah actually we can.” Dad nodded, as if struggling to get rid of a reoccurring thought. Unable to stop it he asked “Where did you get this?”
“I stole it.” Mary admitted.
“From Ramiel…that’s what he meant when he asked.” You realised aloud.
Mary nodded “Yes…I-” But she stopped herself, maybe she knew that there was no getting out of this. You couldn’t help but feel betrayed. Cas nearly died, Ramiel offered to leave if someone owned up and yet she didn’t? You couldn’t have done that if it was you….
“Okay, uh….here’s how.” Dad began writing down on a piece of paper the instructions on how to make bullets. He thrusted it into Micks hands before picking up one of the weapons laid out on the table. “Where’s the armory?”
“I’ll show you.” Mary decided. You grabbed a blade and followed on, Pierce did the same, calling out “I’ve got your back.” You sighed, but didn’t question it.
Sprinting through the corridors, you came to halt, waiting in anticipation as your Dad reaches for the handle. The light changed from red to green before the door swung open. Immediately, two vampires were clawing at the open space desperately trying to get inside. Dad slammed the door back as far as it would go, holding them back. “Go!” He shouted “I’ve got em!”
Mary and Pierce nodded, racing off to go the back way. You steadied yourself, gripping the blade in your hand before looking at your Dad. “Open it.” You nodded.
He hesitated, but leaped forward trustingly, allowing the pair of bloodsuckers access. You ducked at their oncoming attack, parrying to the right then slicing through their neck. You felt the individual parts of the inside, the vessels, muscles and bones each broken by the blade as it cut through. The head fell to the floor, shortly followed by the body. You then ducked as another came straight for you. Thankfully, Dad had found his feet by then and had your back. He kicked the vampire away from you, allowing both of you time to adjust. Dad then stepped in front of you and sliced the head off.
Heavily breathing, he patted your shoulder lightly before nodding to himself “Okay, lets go.”
You both raced towards the armory, still highly aware how time was slipping away. “Dad!” You called, almost running into Mary’s collapsed body. You knelt down next to her, holding her up a little. “Y/N?” He turned the corner, lowering his knife at the sight. “Mom!”
“Y/N…?…Sam…?” Mary groaned, her eyes blinking awake.
“What happened?” You asked, glancing behind yourself in case of another unexpected attack. “Pierce…he…we should go.” Mary heaved herself up onto her feet, staring at the floor You followed her eye-line, falling upon the broken up avd. “Shit.” You cursed “What do we do now?” “One problem at a time.” Dad nodded, making sure he kept calm for your sake “We deal with the Alpha first.” “But-” “Mick’s making some bullets, we just have to tr-” Dad stopped himself. “Trust him?” You offered, hoping your dislike for the phrase was evident in your expression. “Yeah. Let’s go with that.” He offered a tight smile.
You crept into the room where the Alpha vampire was talking proudly. Serena was on the floor, dead eyes staring up at the ceiling, speckles of blood reflecting the light. You winced a little at the sight, you’d always liked Serena. She had guts. Dad held the Colt up, making himself and thus you and Mary known to the Alpha.
“Sam Winchester.” He chuckled. His voice was deep and disconcerting. He had a large black trench coat over his casual-smart dress sense. His skin was dark, his eyes darker and his hands had long red nails where he could drain his victims. You grimaced at the sight, having never seen an Alpha of a species before. Maybe he liked keeping himself to himself. Who could blame him?
“You know there are only five things in existence that thing can’t kill, I’m one of them.” He declared. You watched, was that true? Surely Dad would have known… “If that were true I’d already be dead.” Dad countered. You only hoped he was right.
“I have many many children,” The Alpha continued, pretending to ignore your Dad “What’s one or two here and there.”
“Exactly.” Dad agreed, You watched, hoping your Fathers ability to manipulate was as promising as it sounded. “Let my daughter, my Mom and myself go. Then things can go back to the way they should be. Cops and Robbers, Hunters and Vampires a fair fight!” Dad sounded so confident in his lie you almost believed it to. “And the Brits?” “Have them.” Dad snarled.
“You bastard!” Mick had obviously caught on and “attacked” your Dad. You watched, impressed how smoothly it went. As Mick launched himself at your Father, his hand moved so Dad took hold of the bullet. Dad twisted his body, loading the gun away from the Alpha’s line of sight and threw Mick off. He then turned back and aimed the gun once more.
The Alpha chuckled- oblivious. “You and I both know that gun isn’t loaded Sam.”
Dad smirked “Isn’t it?”
The Alpha twitched, as if going back in time and realising what had just happened. “No…” He mumbled, still coming to terms with his possible end. His eyes widened, and, as if coming to terms with his end his whole stance relaxed: “Clever. Clever boy.” He smiled.
A shot rang out through the halls: perfect aim. Straight through the alphas forehead. His body shook when waves of electricity surged through his body, jolting him to death. He collapsed- dead.
“Back later, huh?” Dean rolled his eyes at his brother. “Getting a drink, huh?” Sam remarked, holding back a chuckle.
“When I thought something might have happened to you, I came running…nothing else really matters…” Uncle Dean turned to face his Mother. “Mom….it’s not your job to make me lunch or kiss me goodnight and I get that.” Dean turned to look at his Mum “We’re adults. And you can make your own choices or your own decisions. I don’t have to like em. I guess I’ve just gotta get used to that. Okay?”
“Yeah.” Mary smiled, proud of her boys.
The clanging of chains, made the three Winchesters turn around to see Mr Ketch as he hauled Pierce away. “Where are you taking him?” Sam asked.
“We have a way of dealing with Hunters who go rogue, they aren’t pleasant. Are they Y/N?” You glanced up at the sound of your name, having only just arrived at the scene. You were busy putting some weapons back in the armory. “Eh?” You scrunched up your face. “The way in which we treat our rebellious Hunters. ie, your Mother.” Mr K said before leaving. You scowled at him even though he wasn’t looking. ‘Great’ You thought ‘that’s another awkward topic to bring up later.’
You walked over to your family, purposely avoiding their confused faces. “We going or what?” You asked, looking up,
“Uh, one moment.” Dad put a finger up and made his way over to Mick. You watched, turning back round to Uncle Dean and Mary. “Pie?” You asked Uncle Dean, making him grin and hopefully forget about awkward questions in the process. Nodding, his eyes lit up “Pie.”
“What happened to Y/N’s Mom and sister?” Sam asked, looking Mick directly in the eye. He kept his voice low, aware you could hear if they spoke any louder. Mick whistled “That’s a biggie. Pick one.” “Her Mom.” “Rebecca? Like Ketch said, she went rogue.” “Why? How?” “Look, it’s not my place to say what happened to Becky,” Sam noted the use of “Becky” but didn’t say anything “Ask Y/N.” “Okay…and Max? Her twin sister right?” “So she told you, huh?” Mick raised an eyebrow “Y/N’s had it rough. But she’s a toughie.” “What happened to my Daughter?” Sam asked sternly. The fact that Sam reminded Mick how Max was in fact his daughter changed something slightly in Mick’s mind. “If you’re so bleeding curious why don’t you ask your other one?!” Mick snapped, making Y/N turn to look. Thankfully, she didn’t watch for long before going back to whatever conversation she was having.
“I’m just trying to make sure that you didn’t…kill her for no good reason…either of them.” Sam was struggling to talk about it. This was technically his family. Even if it never felt like it. “They didn’t.” “They?” Sam echoed. “Well I didn’t do it, did I?” Mick sighed. “If I ask Y/N, she won’t tell me that you straight out killed her? There had to be a reason.” “There was. For both cases. A perfectly good reason. Sam. Ask her.”
Sam thought about it for a while, running through the ideas in his head. Weighing ups and downs on imaginary scales before settling with his conclusion. He took in a deep breath and said it before he could stop himself.
“I’m in.” Sam nodded slowly. “Sorry?” Mick frowned, surprised to hear it after such a conversation. “Tonight was bad, don’t get me wrong. But the Alpha Vampire is dead. You’re changing the world and I wanna be a part of it.” “And your brother?” “Give me some time…” Sam paused, watching as Y/N laughed with her Uncle. He felt a shimmer of guilt try and surface. “Aren’t you gonna ask about Y/N?”
How do you think the assassins/templars would react if they find their SO sleeping in their coats?
OH LORDY ANON, THIS COULD GO IN MANY BAD DIRECTIONS.
I APOLOGIZE FOR THEY DELAY. I’M STILL HERE, SEND ME
I hope you don’t mind, dear anon, but I didn’t stay strictly to your prompt.
Satisfaction is key, and if I failed to write something how you wanted it,
please let me know!
Thanks to a dear page
supporter, I’ll now be adding Mary Read/James Kidd to the list of
assassins. Let me know what you think!
Altair: He’d been searching
everywhere- he could not find his coat, which was necessary for his day.
Unaware of where else to look, he decides to go to your quarters, hoping you’d
know where the coat was. Without knocking, he barged into your home, but halted
abruptly where he stood. There you were, peacefully sleeping, however not in
your normal robes, but in his own coat. Still frozen in your doorway, he slowly
and silently backs up and leaves. He would just steal one of Malik’s for the
Ezio: Your moment of silence had
been disrupted by short, loud, and raspy chuckles. Slowly, groggily, and
annoyed, you began to wake from your euphoric rest. Unsurprisingly, there was
Ezio, lying by your side, laughing like an idiot. Not only were you tired and
irritated, but now confused; that is until you figured out why he had been
laughing. The night before, you’d been so lonely, knowing Ezio couldn’t be with
you. To feel content and whole again, you reached for his coat… one he never
wore, and the one he wanted you to keep. Unintentionally, you’d drifted asleep,
the cloths contorted around your body. Ridged with realization, you hastily and
unsuccessfully attempted to take the coat off; Ezio’s laughter subsided. He
grabbed your hand, his eyes crinkled with delight. “You’re just too beautiful,
In respect for Mari/kennaofstormholt could we do a fandom call out for 24hr of Tumblr silence? She was an amazing member of our choice family, and many of us will miss her! (Sending the ask to you because most Choicers follow you!)
Omg thank you for letting me know about this, Anon. I didn’t know till you sent me this message, and upon going to Laura and Wasi’s blogs.
I’m so sorry to hear about the loss of Mari, @kennaofstormholt … It is not my place to share details, but is my request for you to say a prayer, send up a wish to the universe, however way you want to honor her memory. She was a fellow fan of Choices, and had quite a vibrant energy in here. She was 1/3 of the screm queens, her core group within the fandom.
Part 9~~ Let me explain before anyone ask ‘Shouldn’t DiaKananMari recognize them?’ this comic is in a Alternative Universe, where the Aqours girls are not School Idols and have no idea of who Muse is. It’s just a situation to make the story interesting. So instead of making them the same age, I decided to make the Muse’s members 5 years older than Aqours, thus explain why Nico said she’s 24.
I’m kinda slow lately~ Right after part 10, the second years interaction will happen~ pardon me my slow pace :D.
If you have any brilliant ideas to contribute please send them in~