#that also leaves the question of Jon
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meggettes · 9 months ago
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the last line of this post got me thinking about dnd-ifying tortall (i know about the tortall rpg but here im thinking specifically about dungeons and dragons 5e)
Kel is certainly a paladin. Aly is a rogue no question. Daine is probably a wildshape druid with some sort of archery feat/outlander background.
Alanna is giving me trouble, though. She's both a fighter and a mage, and very adept at both. I guess in order, her fighting improvement happens before spellcasting improvement. It's feeling very cleric, but that's certainly not the type of character Alanna is. The descriptions of her magic, though, are pretty close to sorcerer, but that doesn't seem right either.
Any ideas?
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batbabydamian · 5 months ago
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Damijon or Daminika??
i like both! it's basically friends to lovers and enemies to lovers haha
SPEAKING OF, B&R #10 gave so much more intrigue between Damian and Nika!! we’re still left in the dark about Ra’s al Ghost (LOL) but that at least sets up Nika’s return someday
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chiropteracupola · 2 years ago
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recently I've read a very meaty and murdery novel, and, since I haven't stopped thinking about it, now I've made a playlist about it.
[listen here]
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lemonberry-soda · 11 months ago
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me, looking at the cast of Hatchetfield characters: hmmm . . . what would make a good dead corpse for a Lord to possess . . . so many choices but no perfect fits . . .
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sparky-is-spiders · 1 year ago
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Hi! I’m here suffering from lack of good Archivist!Sasha content as well 😭 On that note, do you have any fic on that topic you would recommend? Or just good Sasha fics in general, (or Jonsasha, if that’s your cup of tea)? Thank you in advance 😊
Tragically, I think there is a general dearth of good Archivist!Sasha content (and just about none of it Jonsasha content, as far as I can tell (and not only is Jonsasha my cup of tea, but the ONLY thing standing between it and the #1 OTP spot (currently occupied by JE) is the fact that the Jonsasha that I desperately crave exists in my brain and nowhere else)). Admittedly, I haven't looked very far into her tag yet (I should rectify that at some point tbh) but I've dug around the Jonsasha tag when I first got into it, and I know at least one fic where Sasha drifts towards Beholding through an interest in office gossip.
In terms of Jonsasha Ao3 has:
This very good Sasha lives fic where Jon shows up to Georgie's with an unconscious Sasha and everyone involved is very confused.
These two fics are cute also. The former is by @/suttttton and is them getting together, the latter is established Jonsasha from @/dickwheelie.
Eyevatar Sasha might actually be thinner on the ground (outside of fix-its where she solves everything and her canon reckless curiosity is completely ignored). Ao3 has:
This fic, which is Jongerry with outsider PoV Sasha. Just barely has the implication that she might be shifting towards the Eye (via prying into the lives of her coworkers) but gets a mention through sheer force of Excellent Sasha Characterization. I read this and I feel like I'm reading a fic from a Sasha Understander.
There's also this fic, which looks very promising but which I haven't actually gotten the chance to read yet, so I can't speak to its quality.
Unfortunately I've only gotten into Sasha fairly recently (especially as compared to Jon, who my brain latched onto in a deathgrip from the start), so I haven't gone through her tag yet. A scroll through the Archivist!Sasha or Beholding Avatar!Sasha tags pulls up a lot of fix-it and J//mart, which isn't really what I'm looking for from the concept. I'm sure there's more out there, and if/when I find them I'll come back to this ask probably, but I lucked into Reverse Nighthawks (I was on a Jongerry kick).
But god every day I wish that I could write romance and/or longfic, because about a year ago I read a Jonmichael fic that, when discussing alternate universes (where Jon ended the world) it's revealed that he once did an apocalypse out of love for his Archivist, Sasha James. And it was one (1) single line, but it struck me so hard because god. A perfect concept I think. The potential dynamics of Archivist!Sasha/Assistant!Jon are enthralling to me. Jon destroying the world (or helping her destroy the world? Cute date night I think: bringing about armageddon with your eldritch monster partner) for Sasha... anyway mostly I mentioned that one because My God if I have to live with that tantalizing AU rotating in the background of my mind 24/7 so do the rest of you.
#also I'm very sorry how much this was About Jon#I really /do/ love sasha it's just that jon lives in my brain literally all the time#I am incapable of making a single solitary tma post that is not like 50% about him#not a Single One#every character and relationship and dynamic must somehow include jon to interest me. I struggle to care about jon-less anythings#it's a Problem#anyway I really really love sasha and want to write her one day but I need to finish my JE stuff first#the thing is the sasha in my brain is in zero other places#I extrapolated some stuff from canon to create a Blorbo but I don't think many other people interpret her the same way#I have some sasha and jonsasha stuff lying around somewhere but the gist is that I think sasha should become a morally questionable eyevata#who feeds the eye by invading people's privacy ''accidentally.'' based on her actions in the s1 finale she's probably a good person usually#but is reckless when protecting those she cares about and ESPECIALLY when curious and I want her to be a lil freaky with it#too tired to string my sasha thoughts together properly but they're mostly about how she should have a fun corruption arc#I want her to end the world in s3. I want her to have extremely difficult and complicated feelings about leaving the institute. about being#an eyevatar also. I think she didn't get enough screentime to say a lot for certain but she has enough interesting and complex things in he#brain that she could offer an interesting perspective if she survived or was the archivist. I also think she and martin should've switched#places. sorry martinlikers but she had more stuff going for her and also her perspective would be unique and interesting instead of yet#another 'the Eye is Bad.' that's actually the jonsasha thing I like the most. reading her statement and there's so many parallels between#her and jon. I think they'd compliment each other in a way literally no other jonship could manage#anyway sorting tags#jonsasha#asks#thank you for the ask btw!! I am. VERY. passionate about this subject. sasha has so much potential and stuff going for her but I get so#bitter because nobody is willing to engage with the stuff I find most interesting about her. probably another reason it took me as long as#it did to get Attached to her. I spent too much time with fanon sasha who's had the potential and complexity and points of interest#stripped away so that she can fix the world for jm to get together which is so much more boring than whatever the hell was wrong with her#(affectionate) (I like my characters a lil weird and fucked up. a lot weird and fucked up even)#ok veryvery tired need to stop rambling and think about sasha some more.#oh wait one more thought actually she's autistic and trans (projecting but also. like. tell me i'm wrong) thank you and goodnight
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auroreliis · 2 months ago
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Honestly if I was batsis I'd pretend to have a crush on the batboys close friends(excluding Damian because he and Jon are still babies) just to annoy them. Jason bring Roy over? Suddenly I'm very interested in his tattoo's and I want to know all about archery. I catch kon in the kitchen in Tim? Suddenly i'm very into the conversation they're having and am making eye contact a lot with Kon. I feel liked they'd do something like this; Batsis: You know I really like your tattoos. Roy: Oh thanks. Jason: ... You gotta go, like, now. Roy: What-
Brilliant, anon!! What a great idea!! This was very fun to write :)
(don't mind the spelling mistakes please lol. i am tired out of my mind)
For starters, when Bruce first introduced the members of the Justice League to you (it took a lot of convincing), you just couldn’t help but flirt with them.
I mean, just LOOK at Aquaman. The moment you laid your eyes on him, you felt a spark. He hadn’t noticed you staring, but surely he had felt it too. Bruce, however, had noticed you staring. He didn’t seem particularly amused, almost as though he saw you daydreaming about your wedding with Aquaman. Just when you were making your way over to them, Bruce scowled and swiftly led Aquaman away. After that, you never saw him ever again…
Or that one time when Green Lantern came over. Wow. What a man. You didn’t waste a second walking up to him and introducing yourself. The giggles you were suppressing nearly slipped out after you saw Bruce’s eye twitch. Green Lantern entertained your advances, though you knew he wasn’t interested in you. Whenever Bruce started with his, “Hal. We should leave”, you would always interrupt him with more questions directed at Hal.
“So…do you like pasta? I’m actually really good at making it. You should come over, you know? I could treat you!” You all but winked at him.
Hal found it very interesting, don’t get him wrong, he thought you were very funny, but when Bruce is standing right there beside him, he felt…intimidated. So intimidated, in fact, that he can barely reply to your questions.
“Oh…um…” he nervously glanced at Bruce. “Green. You know what, kid? Your father and I have some business to attend to…so…see you next time. Good luck with the um…yeah, never mind.”
Hal sped off, leaving you and Bruce alone. You had been in the mood to laugh until your father turned to you with a serious expression. Suddenly you weren’t in the mood to laugh anymore. To put it simply, it was a clear warning: Don’t do it again, his look communicated.
Now, Constantine, he was fun to hang around with, likely because he isn’t as scared of Batman as the rest is. And also, he’s hot. “You are so cool, honestly. It’s really impressive how often you’ve escaped death”, you leaned against the wall. To be honest, you weren’t even listening to what he was saying, all you needed to hear was his strong English accent and little sprinkles of humor.
After some bribery, you had gotten Tim to tell you that Bruce was most concerned about you meeting Constantine. For some reason, you figured…
“So…I like older men, what about you?”, you batted your eyelashes at him. You didn’t have Bruce in your periphery, as you were focusing on John, but you could imagine him shaking in fury.
“Yeah, I like older men too”, he replied nonchalantly. Dammit, he got you. Well, he was a funny guy.
Bruce seemingly relaxed at that, but that’s not to say that he was satisfied with the interaction taking place. “You’re funny, are you single-”, you could barely finish your sentence before Dick dragged you away to spend time with you. Though, you believe that Bruce asked Dick to get you away just so you couldn’t talk to Constantine like that.
Bruce had way too many attractive friends. Well, almost all his friends were attractive: Wonder Woman, Superman, Flash…hell, even Martian Manhunter. I mean, he can read minds! Just imagine the potential…
“So, I heard you can read minds. Read mine right now”, your grin was…suspicious. Bruce couldn’t read minds like J’onn could, but he could imagine what you were thinking about. No, actually, he didn’t want to imagine it.
“J’onn.”, Bruce, ever so stern, called out and gestured towards the door. The J’onn in question had merely walked off in that direction silently, as though having understood Bruce’s point from one word. Martian Manhunter hadn’t read your mind that day, to your dismay. However, you had managed to make Bruce uncomfortable, so that was considered a win.
Dick himself had very attractive friends. Wally West, quite the flirt, was among them. Though, oddly enough, you had imagined him to be more flirty. It couldn’t be that Dick took a page out of Bruce’s book and told him to watch it, right?
“So, you’re fast, huh?”, you looked Wally up and down. “I happen to be”, Wally glanced at Dick.
“Okaayyyyy, Wally, you should leave”, Dick spoke with a strained smile.
“Yeah. Oh, by the way, what about the-”
“Now.”
Wally looked around awkwardly, “…right.”
And Raven—what a woman. Plus, Cyborg and Starfire filled your thoughts. Though Wally was the first and last friend of Dick’s you ever saw. A pity. He seemed to have learnt his lesson…
Now Roy Harper, Jason’s friend, was quite something. Tattoos? Archery? Hell yeah.
“Wow, so you like engineering books? Well, the manor has a huge variety. You should come by more often”, you smiled innocently.
“Um, actually, he will NOT be coming over ever again”, Jason frowned at your words.
“Why not?”, both you and Roy turned to Jason.
“BECAUSE I said so”, you and Roy made eye contact awkwardly.
“You”, Jason points at Roy, “Get out.”
“What? But you said you needed my he-”
“NOWWWW. Do NOT make me repeat myself.”
Yeah, Roy leaving was more awkward than anything else that had happened so far.
Jason didn’t have that many friends, as far as you knew at least. In other words: You would never see Roy ever again…
Now Tim, being charming himself, had many attractive friends.
For starters: Conner Kent.
You hadn’t had much contact with the Kents, however Conner had come over a few times. And wow. Despite being overly confident (and often obnoxious), he was very, very attractive. However, you have never talked to him. The reason? Tim makes sure he keeps you at arm’s length. In fact, you’re not sure you could ever find a way to interract with Tim’s friends…unless…
“Hey, Tim!”, Jason called out, “Bruce says you need to go to the cave right now.”
“What? But I have guests over…”, Tim eyes Jason suspiciously.
“I mean, if you wanna get in trouble with him, be my guest”, Jay raised his hands defensively.
“I-…fine. Conner, just a second, I will be right back. DO NOT move”, Tim sighs.
After Tim left, you shot Jason a thumbs-up and went to mingle with Superboy.
“Good evening. You must be Conner. I’ve heard a lot about you from Tim”, you say, taking it slow.
“Good evening! Hopefully you only heard good things!”, he grins.
“Oh, plenty of good things. Say, if you really can fly, then why don’t you take me for a ride? I haven’t ever seen the sky from…well, up in the sky”, you copied his grin.
“Ah, well, I would, really, but I’m not sure how Tim would feel, you know? I mean, he’s a bit of a-”, Conner started.
“A bit of a what.”, a new voice shocked the both of you.
Tim. Where the hell did he come from?
“I though I told you to leave if they started talking to you?”, Tim ignored you, only focusing on scolding Conner.
“Well, that would’ve been incredibly rude…”, Conner struggled to defend himself.
“You.”, Tim turns to you.
“Me?”, you said, though you weren’t scared of him anymore.
“Yes, you. What’s the big idea? Why did you pull that just to talk to Conner? I don’t know what you have planned, but forget it immediately. If you don’t leave right now, I’ll tell Bruce to reinstate the therapy sessions. Then you can explain to him why you enjoy sabotaging others so much.”
That was, quite frankly, terrifying. You hadn’t been this scared of Tim in a while.
Well, safe to say you won’t be doing this again…
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branwinged · 4 months ago
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"dragons plant no trees" gets thrown around a lot as fact, but i think the veracity of that claim is still up for debate in the books. because dany (like bran and jon and many others) is a narrative symbol of hope and rebirth within the series because of her connection to dragons and fire, not in spite of it. this is because dragons in asoiaf have a much more expansive narrative function than simply 'nuke metaphor'. the 'exclusively weapons of war' image they have acquired breaks down immediately if you recall that the first thing dany does with them is begin dismantling an unjust status quo. she rallies the unsullied at the gates of astapor with cries of dracarys! dracarys! freedom! <- dragons as a symbol of hope and freedom for the persecuted. and obviously they've been built up as an oppositional force against the others. we're told when the last dragon died summers became shorter. in that respect the dragons, or more specifically, fire which is warmth which is passion—very much embodies life against the numbing, deadening threat of eternal winter that the others represent. but fire also consumes, which simultaneously makes dragons agents of destruction, or as adwd shows: the monsters who eat little girls and leave behind their bones. but when dany found herself chained to a false peace which effectively undid her cause in meereen, it was the dragon that rescued her and reignited her fire to fight back—which is to say that dragons represent a wealth of contradictions within the text and this is likely something grrm means to parallel with the others to some extent, by questioning their apparent narrative role as the one true evil. because i doubt the series is gearing up towards a spectacle-esque battle wherein our heroes get to practice righteous, easy violence on a monolithic army of monsters. that feels like it would undo a lot of asoiaf's preoccupation with investigating violence against socially acceptable targets, even if said target is ice sidhe. and this binary between a one true good and a one true evil, i.e. melisandre's philosophy ("if half an onion is black with rot, it is a rotten onion. a man is good or he is evil.") is not something the story takes as given.
instead there's this exchange between bran, jojen, and meera in asos: "but you just said you hated them." / "why can't it be both?" / because they're different. like night and day, or ice and fire." / "if ice can burn. then love and hate can mate."—and i think it's talking about reconciling two conflicting ideas. because the dream of an eternal summer is just as unsustainable as the threat of eternal winter. i think the battle for dawn is more about questions of seasonal harmony. the first line from agot's summary says, "long ago, in a time forgotten, a preternatural event threw the seasons out of balance", so it's not totally out of question for the series to end with that seasonal balance restored once more. and that question of balance and how it can be achieved then works as a metaphor for a bunch of other things. because asoiaf at its core is very interested in exploring big contradictions, like love and duty? how do you keep all your oaths without betraying someone you love? how can one hope for a just, rightful ruler in a world where the systems in place can never allow such a thing? how do dragons plant trees?
you cannot frame dany's arc as a binary choice between planting trees or embracing (dragon)fire. because the fire is hers, it is a part of her, that's who she is. and her character has always existed outside of rigid dichotomies. at the end of agot she had two options, resign herself to a life of seclusion as a widow or die with the last of her family in that pyre, instead she performed a miracle. presently, i think grrm means to explore necessary, revolutionary violence with her arc because you cannot deal with institutional slavery by simply negotiating with slavers like she does in adwd. and the consequences thereof because she's also been set up to be more reckless with dragonfire in the future. but i think there will be an eventual reconciliation there, between her dreams "to plant trees and watch them grow." and her role as the mother of dragons, as a revolutionary figure. because if ice can burn, then maybe dragons can plant trees. they'll learn how to.
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ew-selfish-art · 1 year ago
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DP x DC AU: Bruce is the one to invite Constantine over, and no, it's not to improve his tenuous working relationship with the asshole. It's the opposite of that.
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Danny had become a frequent visitor of Wayne Manor in the last few months, and Bruce had to admit that while the kid was certainly a bit ominous for his liking for a partner to Tim, he was a generally kind and happy soul. They'd been dating for a lot longer than the Bats knew of- Kon had been the one to let it slip to Jon who told Damian and so on- and since the relationship was no longer secret, Tim brings him to family functions.
The thing about Danny is... He's dead. More than half of the time. Which again, is not Ideal for Bruce's wishes for Tim's future husband, but it also means that he reviles in being alive. Danny is downright joyous about using his time left on earth properly. He makes Tim eat real food, enjoy real sleep and generally live a more fulfilled life than he had been. The whole family noticed the changes in Tim, and it made them like Danny even more.
So after a particularly grueling day of dealing with Trigon and therefore the JLD's lack of coordination and sensible planning- Bruce gets the idea. John couldn't fucking contain himself admonishing Bruce, and perhaps it was vindictive, but Bruce figures that John should meet Danny. Sans context of course.
...
John is really over dealing with Batman's prissy, over complicated and perfectionist attitude. Come to the Cave he'd demanded, as though John didn't have a favorite bar to get back to, deal with a ghost he ordered like John didn't have other priorities than some random shade.
When walking into the space however, the second his teleportation portal closed, John knew something was deeply, deeply fucked. The shadows were growing longer, the second hand on his watch ticked slower, the air smelled of sulfur and... Red Robin was sitting working at the computer like nothing was wrong. But what was wrong, was the kid was marked by The End. Marked by The Infinite. FUCK.
John knew Death, the Endless, and knew she could pick favorites just like her siblings (Dream's immortal drinking buddy comes to mind). But this wasn't her work, this was something other.
"Mate- the Bat said there was a ghost?" John feels like he might throw up, the eerie atmosphere complicating what should have been a simple request.
"Uh, obviously." The kid didn't even look over from his screen or pause his typing.
John slowly approached, looking over each shoulder a few times, turning in a few circles as the shadows appeared to dance and echo within the cave. He could see his breath, the air became so cold so suddenly. And then, with the gentleness of a pin drop, a new agonizing sound appeared with a Kid walking down the cave stairs. The aura of the room turned dark, every cell in John's body screaming to run, that this was basically the little girl from the ring crawling through the TV as the young man walked down the steps.
"Babe, your grampa says that dinners going to be ready in a second. Oh, uh, hey dude." The creature speaks, turning his eyes to John for only a moment to study him. It feels equivalent to a butterfly being pinned by its wings.
"Y-y-you, you're, you're one of the Endless?" John stutters, his body reacting in fear despite the nonchalant posture of the Beast. The young man rolls his eyes.
"Nah, one of the Ancients but like uh, I'm new in town. And hon seriously don't be late, A made tiramisu for dessert and you're not allowed to have any if you're late and I don't want to deal with you pouting."
"You had me at Tiramisu!" Red stands up from his computer and then turns, "John, what are you doing here again?" Red Robin finally looks over at him, completely confused.
"Just leaving." John mutters, his eyes still trained on the ANCIENT.
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Bruce could barely hide his laugh when Tim reported the Magician meeting Danny in the cave.
That'll show the asshole to question Batman's knowledge of the occult.
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lazycats-stuff · 8 months ago
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Batfamily x male reader
Batfamily x male!reader - this is part 1 everyone.
Summary: some talking is done.
Warnings: angst, fluff, (Y/N) is trying and so is the fam, cursing, trying to forgive, a punch was thrown, cutting people out
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The fight echoed through the manor. Even days after it, the tension was still palpable. (Y/N) truly wanted nothing more with his so called brothers and father. If they tried to talk to him, they would be ignored or (Y/N) would just snap at them.
Almost biting their head off.
Safe to say, things were going to complete and utter shit.
Bruce didn't even know how to start talking to (Y/N). Was he emotionally reserved? Yes. But will he try everything in his power to make it right?
Yes. Everything he can do, he will do.
Bruce has decided to call a meeting. He made (Y/N) leave his room and (Y/N) has never looked worse. He couldn't sleep for days on end, only getting about 4 hours per night. He wasn't in the mood to eat either. He was only alive because Alfred had to make sure he was still alive.
Everyone noted that he looked like he didn't want to live anymore. More so, he looked dead. (Y/N) just sat down, an angry look on his face, arms crossed and body language closed off. He sat down as far as away as he could from them, clearly not happy to be here in the slightest.
He tucked himself in the chair, ignoring everyone and everything.
" (Y/N)... " Bruce started quietly, clearly not wanting to have a blow out and an explosion. " We have to talk through this problem. " Bruce continued just as softly and (Y/N) scoffed.
" We know we have been... Neglecting you, to say the least. But... We want to fix our mistakes. We want to be better. " Bruce said and (Y/N) chose to roll his eyes instead of listening. No matter what they could say could ever fix this.
" Well... 10 years too late. " (Y/N) said sarcastically, tapping his fingers against his tucked up knee, clearly anxious to leave this room behind. He really was anxious too leave.
" And we realize that. " Tim started softly, looking at (Y/N) with a sad look on his face. (Y/N) wouldn't allow them to see them sweat.
" Bullshit. " (Y/N) said quickly. They don't realize shit. " You are only doing this because Jon came over and pointed it out and now you are worried that the word doesn't spread. " (Y/N) spat out, leaning on his tucked up knee, glaring that the floor.
" That is not true. " Damian said and (Y/N) looked up, glaring at Damian, scoffing at the words, then laughing bitterly.
" Oh please. You never told Jon about me! I'm assuming all of your friends don't know I exist, right? " (Y/N) said as he rubbed his eyes from the exhaustion.
The silence was the only answer that (Y/N) needed.
" Yup and there it is. No one knows I fucking exist! " (Y/N) said loudly, blood pressure raising. He took a deep breath to calm down. " Just as I thought. No one knows I exist. No one even cared about my school achievements either... Let me ask you something Bruce. " (Y/N) asked, turning his attention to Bruce.
" Do you have a college fund for me? Just like you do for other four? " (Y/N) asked, itching for an answer. When Bruce looked away in shame and (Y/N) scoffed yet again.
" Also, don't you fucking dare setting it up. I have got a scholarship anyway. " (Y/N) answered the unasked questions. Bruce was proud of (Y/N). How could he have done this to (Y/N), forget to put a college fund...
" I'm sorry (Y/N). I didn't mean to forget you. " Bruce said, keeping his distance, but wanting nothing more than just hug him and kiss the anger away.
But alas, that's not how it works. (Y/N) has to forgive him first.
" Can you tell us more about the scholarship? " Jason chimed in, wanting to speak about something that (Y/N) could be happy about.
" It's for MIT. " (Y/N) said quietly and everyone was in shock. They didn't know that (Y/N) was into science and mathematics and what not.
Another mistake of theirs.
" That's amazing (Y/N). " Tim praised, smiling at (Y/N). Getting into MIT is hard as hell.
(Y/N) rolled his eyes, but deep down inside, he craved that praise more than life. But some praise won't erase everything that happened.
" You would really have to move then... " Dick said sadly and (Y/N) glanced at all of them. They all seem sad that he would have to move all the way to Massachusetts, but it would be necessary. (Y/N) needed to get out of here. One way or another.
" I think what we all mean to say is that we are sorry. There is no excuse, not a single thing that could justify what we did and what we have caused to you. " Damian said and (Y/N) was shocked to hear the word sorry just tumble out of his mouth like that, so effortlessly. So easily. But he composed himself quickly.
" How do I put his nicely? " (Y/N) said, looking sarcastic. " I don't give a damn about any of you. I don't give a damn about apologies at all. I don't care about any of you. The moment I move out, all of you are going to be dead to me. Period. " (Y/N) said as he quickly stood up, going to his room.
He isn't going to fucking listen anymore.
" No, (Y/N) wait! " Everyone called after him and tried to stop him. Jason managed to grab his arm, but (Y/N) threw a punch and knocked Jason down on his ass, making the others rear back. It was a truly what the fuck moment for all of them.
(Y/N) was never violent.
(Y/N) slammed the doors of his room shut and everyone was silent. Jason was breathing heavily through his mouth as (Y/N) broke his nose.
" He has a hell of a punch. " Jason muttered as he stood up.
" We have a shit ton of gravelling to do. " Tim muttered and everyone nodded in agreement. Saying that they are dead to him, well, will be dead to him, that was sort of a nail in a coffin. Coffin about their relationship...
That was probably on the brink of death, if not dead already.
" Come on, he needs some time alone. " Bruce said and ushered everyone out of the hall, mostly Jason to take a look at his nose, to treat it and heal it.
That same night, (Y/N) quietly managed to get his things into a car, while others were on patrol and blocked them in the process. Then he started driving to MIT, because he didn't have the nerve to put his things onto a plane and go. And besides, he didn't have enough things anyway.
(Y/N) could finally start his new life.
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816wdc · 5 months ago
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😍 lando x fem!reader with the prompt
"Can you preheat the apartment? I'm on my way home. "
- "what are you, banana bread?"
Maybe she's cold like allllll the time, even in the summer (it's me, I'm her)
chilly ✹ ln4 x reader
hello anon ^_^ thank you for the request! i kinda flipped the dialogue because i thought it flowed better, but lmk what u think :) this is officially my first f1-related writing ive put out into the world, so comments are greatly appreciated!
word count: 475
notes: mostly casual dialogue, not proofread. about a phone call between reader and lando! no use of y/n. i also dont think its explicitly stated reader is fem, so take it how you will!
It was freezing.
Not really, of course. It was June, in London, in one of the worst heat waves ever recorded. But you’d spent all day in the office, which had its aircon on blast to accommodate for the heat. You can’t really blame whoever was in charge of that, really. It was over 30 degrees out and any sane person would be boiling.
And yet, here you were, trembling even as you signed off for the day and pulled out your cell phone. It was a ritual, at this point, to call Lando once you were off work. Going through the motions of pulling up his contact and hitting ‘call’ didn’t even require your attention anymore.
Lando’s voice crackled to life almost immediately when the call connected. “Hello, darling. I was wondering when you’d call.”
A soft smile bloomed on your face just at the sound of his voice as you stood from your desk and gathered your things. “Hi, Lando,” you reply. His infectious joyful energy seeped into you even through the phone, and a little laugh could be heard as you continued to speak. “It’s been so cold in the office today, but I’m on my way home now.”
A content hum came from the other line. “Finally. Feels like you’ve been gone forever.” An amused exhale escapes you at that. “You won’t be cold once you step outside, though. Boiling today, innit?”
You groan, the stickiness of the air clogging your lungs as soon as you step outside. “Yes, I’m outside now. I’m sure you’ve got the air on in my apartment. Can you just… grab me a blanket that I can wrap up in once I’m home?” 
The question embarrasses you almost immediately after it leaves your lips. Complaining about how hot it is, then asking your boyfriend to grab you a blanket seems silly. It kind of is. “The aircon is always freezing. I don’t care how hot it is outside,” you say, a whiny lilt as you talk over Lando’s squeaking laugh.
“Wow. Over 30 degrees out and of course you’re asking me for a blanket,” he starts, though he’s still laughing more than he is talking. “But yes, darling, I will preheat the couch for you with tea and blankets.”
A real laugh comes from you as you approach the entrance to the tube station. “Preheat? What am I, like, banana bread or something?”
Both of you were laughing now, Lando’s coming out broken as you waited underground for your train. “Banana bread sounds fantastic. You’ve made me hungry, now! Ugh, done me dirty. Jon won’t allow that,” he groans.
Another hum from you as the ticker board says your train is only a minute away. “Okay, okay. My train is here. I’ll be home in ten, my love. See you.”
“Right. See you soon, you loaf.”
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allywthsr · 1 year ago
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THE CRASH | (l.norris)
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summary: Lando and you fight right before the Las Vegas gp, turns out your nerves couldn’t take it after he crashes
wordcount: 2.4k words
pairing: landonorris x fem!reader
warnings: angst, the crash
notes: I loved this idea when I saw it in my inbox and could not not write it. Here it is, what do we think about this??? I hope you like it 🫶🏼 btw, please come talk to me in my inbox, I’m bored🥲
”I can’t believe you right now!“, Lando and you had been fighting all evening over some silly thing. What started as a small joke, turned into a big argument and you didn’t know how or what happened. All you remember was, that Lando had been tense all weekend and was sensitive to certain things, but you didn’t think he was going to explode, so he got all mean and pushy with you because he was truly agitated.
”Y/N, maybe you shouldn’t have begun to talk about this, I need to concentrate on my racing.“
The screaming you both were doing could probably be heard in the motorhome next to you, but you didn’t care. Lando was clearly wrong and he needed to get your point.
”You started this fight, so stop being a child! Just get where I‘m coming from, you‘ve been in a mood all weekend and you let it out on me, you‘ve only looked for a fight so you could let your anger out.“
”That’s not true! You put words in my mouth and twisted them, as always.“
You two rarely fought, but if you did, there was screaming involved.
”If you hadn’t put me on your jpg account from when you took pictures of me while laying in our bed, we wouldn’t be in this position. I clearly told you that I don’t want this, and you went and did it anyway.“
”It’s just a picture!“
”You read the comments, they hate the way I look, and especially in that picture. You promised me it was for your use only, and you betrayed that.“
”You’re making a bigger deal than it is, calm the fuck down.“
”I won’t! I want you to see my point here.“
”You’re not seeing mine either. It’s a stupid picture, you weren’t naked, you weren’t making a stupid face, you were just looking at the camera, without any makeup but you were beautiful, grow the fuck up and get over these comments.“
”Lando I think I’m going to leave, you enjoy your race, I’ll be watching from the garage but we need space from each other right now, or we say things we don’t mean.“
”You can’t just run away from this conversation, you always do that.“
”I can watch me“, and with that, you walked out the door of his driver's room and slammed it on your way out. Several McLaren employees looked at you with big eyes, but you couldn’t take it right now, you needed five minutes in peace, so you could calm down, and think about the fight again.
Just thirty minutes later, you sat in the garage and waited for Lando to get in his car, normally you two would come in together and he would be cuddly with you, kissing and hugging you until it was time to get in his beloved car, but today was different. You came in alone, way before Lando even had to be in the garage to finally get in the car, he was in a mood when Jose tried to talk to him about data, and when he finally walked into the garage to drive to the grid, he stormed right past you, not even looking at you. By then everyone knew something was up, he never hoped in the car without giving you a kiss. Jon gave you a questioning look, but you shrugged your shoulders and mouthed a ’later‘ to him.
You watched on the TV how he got the last definitely needed laps in and then got pushed by his crew to his starting position. This was also a thing that bothered him, P15 wasn’t something he was used to nowadays.
After the anthem, Adam joined you.
”What’s up with him? He‘s been off all weekend.“
”I know, we had a fight right before he had to go and you know how we fight. It happened over this silly thing and now he‘s pissed at me, I couldn’t even say good luck to him.“
You looked at Adam, he knew his son longer than you did, maybe he had an idea how you could solve things.
”Lando’s always been a stubborn kid, give him time and talk to him after the race, I‘m sure he‘s cooled down by then.“
”Maybe you’re right.“
With that you looked at the screen and saw Lando jumping in his car, going through the last things that he wrote down as his notes.
The engines roared and Adam and you put on the headsets, so you could hear what was said over the radio. Lando was driving around the track for the formation lap and stopped when he reached his position. You prayed that the start would be nice to your boy and he would get through without any crashes or touches. Even if you fought, you still wanted him to be careful and not crash.
The start went without any troubles for Lando, and this was the first time that you released a breath. After the start, Jon came over to you, to talk about Lando’s attitude.
”What’s wrong with you two? I’ve never seen you like this before.“
”We don’t fight often, maybe once every two months or something, and normally it happens when we’re home, but today it escalated when we arrived at the track. He posted this picture of me on his jpg account and I overreacted, he promised me that he wouldn’t post it and he still did. So I was a little angry with him when I asked him to delete it, he freaked out.“
”I‘m sure you can solve this after the race, don’t think about it too hard.“
He gave you a quick hug and you kept watching. Now it was lap three and Lando was fighting for every position. Every race was nerve-wracking for you, sure he was a good driver and the car was safe, but still, every time he sat in his car, your heart rate went up a bit, and you were scared that he would crash. With Adam and Jon next to you, you sat on the foldable chair and had your gaze on the many TVs in front of you, when he crossed the line and lap four began.
Adam mumbled something under his breath and you looked at him when you heard everyone around you inhaling their breath. Quickly you looked back at the TV and hoped someone other than Lando had crashed, but when you heard Jose with panic in his voice, asking if he was okay, you knew it was him. You grabbed Adams's arm, to hold onto something while trying to hold back your tears. Fear was written all over your face, and it only got worse when Jose asked a second time if he was fine and Lando pressed the talk button with his shaky hands. The heavy breaths made your heart sink in your stomach, and with the way he pressed the ’all good‘ out, he truly wasn’t all good. What haunted you most were his painful moans afterwards.
This was the worst scenario that could’ve happened, and the fact that it happened in his birthday week and after you two fought, made things only worse. He clearly wasn’t in the right mindset to race, and it was all your fault because you got irritated by the picture and the comments.
”I want to see him!“
”Y/N, calm down, he will probably be taken to the medical center and you know we can’t enter. He‘s fine, you know what he‘s like, he‘s tough.“
You looked back at the screen and saw how he was still sitting in his car, that wasn’t a good sign. Maybe he was too hurt to get out, you couldn’t just leave him alone in the medical center. With careful movements, he finally pushed himself out of his car, but he was slower than usual, he had to be in pain.
”I‘ll run to the medical center, I’m his performance coach, no one knows his body better than I do. At least in the medical areas, I can update you.“
You nodded continuously and pushed Jon slightly towards the exit of the garage. Now you were crying, it was all your fault, you turned away from any cameras and the big opening of the garage, so no one could picture you ugly sobbing. This was a way of crying that wasn’t pretty and not meant for anyone except you, and maybe Lando to see. Quickly Adam pulled you in tight for a hug, he was shaking himself, and you both needed comfort right now. His phone started ringing and you hoped it was Jon, but it was Cisca, she wanted to know if you knew anything about Lando’s health, but you didn’t and it freaked you out.
His arms could be broken and you wouldn’t know, if you wouldn’t see him soon, you would go crazy. After long fifteen minutes of walking up and down through the garage, finally, an incoming call from Jon lit up your phone.
”Jon, how is he?“
”He‘s okay, a bit shaken up and his whole body hurts a little from the impact, but he‘ll be fine. They want to take him to an actual hospital to scan him, to rule out any internal injuries.“
”I want to come!“
”Y/N, you can’t. It’s better if you wait for him in the hospitality, he needs rest.“
”No, Jon, I need to see him“, the tears were streaming down your face again, at the thought that you can’t be by his side right now.
”We’re already in an ambulance and on our way to the next hospital, we can’t fetch you.“
”I‘ll get a car.“
”You won’t see him, even if you come, he‘ll be in the scan and we can’t join him there. I‘m with him, he‘s not alone, I‘ll send you a picture.“
”Let me talk to him.“
”His arms are trapped under a blanket, and he got some medication to hide the pain a little, he‘s drugged up and talking nonsense. He wouldn’t get what you’re saying anyway.“
”Is that even safe?“
”Yes“, he chuckled, ”He‘s alright, don’t worry. The scan is just a precaution thing, we should be out in at least two hours.“
With a heavy breath, you accepted that you couldn’t see him in person right now.
”But please send me a picture of him, and tell him I love him.“
”Will do, and you’re going to calm down, he’s fine.“
”I‘ll try, thank you, Jon.“
You turned to Adam and quickly talked him through what Jon told you, before calling Cisca and telling her the same.
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Two hours later…
You just received a text from Jon, telling you they are in a car right now, that‘ll take them to the track. Impatiently you sat in the hospitality and waited for Lando to walk through the door, and when you saw him opening the glass door, you were crying again. The way the jacket was way too big for him, and his overall was hanging on his hips, made your heart clench, your poor boy. You ran towards him and hugged him tightly, while still being careful that you weren’t hurting him. He grabbed your hand and pulled you to his driver's room, where you were hugging once again.
You pulled out of the hug and put your hands on his cheeks.
”I am so so sorry that I overreacted with the picture, just because of me, you weren’t focused and lost the car to that bump. I will never fight with you ever again.“
Lando used the pad of his thumb to wipe away the salty tears, that escaped your eye.
”It’s not your fault, fight or not, the bump would’ve been there and I would’ve lost control. I‘m okay, yeah? You don’t need to worry anymore, and you definitely need to stop crying, because there is nothing to cry about.“
”Do you forgive me?“
”Of course, it’s all forgotten, I shouldn’t have posted the picture, and I‘m truly sorry. I‘ll delete it once I have my phone.“
”No don’t do that“, you put your head against his chest and breathed in his scent, Lando was closing his arms around your shoulders and touched the back of your head. Featherlight kisses were placed on the side of your head, and you two enjoyed the silence.
A knock interrupted you two and Adam was standing in the door, he tightly hugged his son as well and kissed his cheek.
”You should call your mum, she‘s worried sick.“
Lando nodded and grabbed your phone that you held out before dialing the number of his mum. After the quick talk, Cisca was reassured her son was fine and Lando wanted to go to the debrief. With his hospital bracelet, still on his wrist, he sat there like he didn’t just crash.
He was professional after all.
Until you returned to the hotel, you waited with Adam and Jon in the hospitality for Lando to finish his meetings, and when he did, Jon drove you safely back to the hotel, where you took care of Lando, so he was back on track for the last race.
taglist: @millinorrizz @jamieeboulos @loxbbg
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yanmuffins · 6 days ago
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asks 2.
context.
here are some more asks i'm replying to in a bulk about phineas and ferb reader!!
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my favorite part in dc. vs vampires is when reader comes together with damian and damian to build a silly machine that un-vampifies people in like half a day so they can defeat the vampire king. it is canon.
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@amethystjellyfish
perry really is reader's number #1 stan. they're his family, reader's had him since he was a small platypus baby!
he does his best to keep reader safe, which is why he doesn't like the batfam much. he keeps it professional on the rare occasions they go on missions together, but that's it. he hates how dismissive of reader they are in the beginning, and he hates them later on when they star showering them with attention because they found out about their inventions.
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not tired, anon! i love seeing people enjoy my concepts and interact with them!! ദ്ദി(˵ ���̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
and i'm sure this has happened. more than once, actually. the power of coincidence is strong with reader. the life-saving laser beam comes from a situation involving reader's latest machine they built and tested with the help of jon.
unfortunately, one of his lasers richochets on the machine during testing, not only causing it to save batfamily's life, caught in a dangerous situation in a completely different location, but also destroys the machine so there's nothing to link it to reader.
ah, well. they'll just have to keep looking.
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reader, seeing them run past her: oh! there's perry :)
i love how we have established tim is terrified of this platypus. nevermind the other pets in the manor, it's the platypus with its googly eyes that drives him insane. they don't get it, he got up to drink water at 3 a.m. and the thing was just there, looking at him. menacingly.
jason would though. meanwhile, perry is wishing he could just go back to metropolis. he didn't have to deal with reader's siblings in metropolis. he doesn't get enough hazard pay for this.
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hm... good question!
i like to think that, much like with phineas and ferb, luck is on reader's side most of the time, so i don't see reader getting injured by their own inventions.
but, let's suppose they do: it's a nice sunday afternoon, the batfam has decided to gather around the living room and hang out, watch a movie, lots of popcorn and soda. they don't have to think about criminals or fighting, tim and damian are bickering, jason is around, peace reigns the manor.
until they hear an explosion. they run to the garage only to find reader on the floor, unconscious, bleeding, and an assortment of destroyed metal components to a machine they can't decipher. damian doesn't even feel good about reader finally being busted.
later, when reader is back home, awake and out of risk but with a bandage around their head and their leg in a cast, they're in for the biggest (and probably first) scolding of their entire lives. reader tries to play it off. it wasn't that big of a deal, they're fine, aren't they? and they're genuinely optimistic about it. but the entire family is talking over each other at first, until bruce signals for everyone to shut up and leave the room. he has a very serious talk with reader, and makes it very clear they're not to come near a toolbox ever again.
but he understands. it's partly his fault for not being attentive. he won't make that mistake again.
ofc reader is really upset. dick comes next, then stephanie, then cass, then duke, then barbara and they all try to convince reader in a much more amiable tone that hey, it's fine. who needs to do all that whacky stuff to have fun? just hang out with us. they can get another hobby, and this time they can make it a family thing! how's that sound? not fun? don't be like that... they're sure reader will come around.
tim is pretty much the only one who congratulates them for being awesome pulling all those stunts, one per day, it's impressive. but now it's time to step back a bit. who knows? try being careful and bruce will let you work with a welding tool again. one day. maybe.
damian and jason's reactions are more similar to bruce's. in other circumstances, damian is on reader's side and helps them sneak around to continue their shenanigans, but in the case of reader getting hurt he just wants them to not do that. any of that. ever again. and jason has to hold himself back not to snap and ask them what the hell were they thinking?! they could have died! he ends up just telling them to quit it. they're just a kid who shouldn't be messing around with that sort of stuff.
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anon, i wouldn't go as far as say he'd use venom against them, but he's bit batfam before. as stated, he does not dig their vibe at all!
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anon, that's a great idea! though i think p&f! reader is much too motivated by the creative process and experience that their inventions bring more than just willing them to come to life.
they have the power to create whatever they want, but what's the fun of it? what about hte process? the building? the friends they make along the way? the memories? i think reader would find the ring awesome at first, but the novelty would wear of in less than a week.
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anon...
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because i dig the idea of reader being friends with dipper and mabel. reader talks about their crazy inventions, and loves hearing about all the cryptids they came across during vacation.
reader invites the twins to the manor, they share their most recent summer memories. reader talks about that one time they built and drove a massive monster truck with their brother damian, but jason only comes into the room in time to hear about dipper and mable talk about the weirdmaggedon. he has several question marks around his head. aren't those kids a a little too old to be making shit up? or maybe... no, there's no way. or is there? no... he would have heard about this... but weirder things have happened. but what if...
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@randomlyappearingartist
you are so right. to be honest, i don't even think the batfam would even know of his existence, since he's pretty much a very minor villain acting in metropolis. after perry joins the league, or in the rare occasion of dr. doof teaming up with another minor gotham villian like condiment man, is when they get to know he exists.
and since perry seems to have him under control, they don't even acknowledge the guy.
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i love love love this sm!
they assume it's just flash mobs. it's got to be. flash mobs with really weird themes, like an entire musical number dedicated to the squirrels in damian's pants. that was strange. bruce patrolling in the middle of the night and this new crime lord just burst into a song with a band and hired back dancers, because it's apparently a new trend a minor villain in metropolis started.
and what about that one time dick took damian (and reader) to the library and some guy just started singing about how he doesn't have rhythm? and damian just started playing a trumpet? and reader started singing? i mean, it was a bop and he started dancing, but it was weird anyway.
but now i'm thinking of damian and reader singing the "summer" song together (he sings the "it's noticeably warmer" and that's it) though! wholesome.
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@lazyandannoyng
not annoying at all! you're good ⸜(˙꒳​˙ )
i have this little idea in my head that reader doesn't take the wayne name when find out bruce is their dad and move to gotham, and bruce is pretty secretive about this new kid of his for purely privacy and safety reasons. so when reader does their networking, it's often not obvious they're a wayne. not sure if this will make it into the fic, but it really resonates with this concept!
it's also funny to think that a lot of people don't even know reader and the waynes are related. even if they do know reader is related to the batfam, nobody really talks about them by name (just "your sibling"), and all of those little details like never asking about where the gloves came from (because why would he) or the misunderstandings where one party means one thing and the other assumes it's another (dick has many siblings! too many!) just end up helping reader not get caught. and i just think that's neat.
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catsteeth · 8 months ago
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The Caged Bird and The Leashed Dog
+:✿ Chapter - 1 ✿:+ New Pretty Cage
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Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it. 
CW: slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of animal death, alcohol consumption, mention of infant death, mention of parent(s) death, loras being very lgbtq , mention of arranged marriage. 
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Leaving the Eyrie at first was exciting. You hated to admit it, you screamed at your father for even suggesting it, you cried like a child, but it was. The Eyrie was hardly a home, It was cold, isolated, and a constant reminder of what you’d lost. Kings Landing was warm, crowded, and offered a future outside of living in the past. 
Your father, Jon Arryn, was more than optimistic that you would find a suitor worthy of your name. Your aunt and now step mother, Lysa Arryn was elated at the opportunity of ridding her and Robin’s lives of you. 
After the death of your mother, Elorie of house Tully, your father married her sister, your aunt. You could have stomached it, you could have even forgiven it, if it weren’t for the fact your mother died during her labors of childbirth. 
As you and your father rode in the carriage, your mind couldn’t help but think of it. You’d spent your mothers entire pregnancy hoping she’d bear a son. You even prayed, prayed to the seven Gods whom you didn’t even believe in. You had hoped if the child was a boy, you wouldn’t have to be wed off to the best house name possible. 
What's worse, not only did the labors kill your mother, but it also killed your brother. You’d prayed for a brother and the Gods gave you a brother. But they took him away and your mother with him. 
You had spent days sulking, wallowing in grief. Unbeknownst to you, all the while your father was arranging his own marriage with Lysa. A son followed behind soon, Robin, the brat. You hated him, even if you were the same blood.
“We approach,” your father said under his breath. It was enough to bring you back to reality. 
“How long will I be here?” You asked, knowing the answer. Your father shot you a look with a furrowed brow, as if to say, “You already know.” You nodded as your concerned gaze turned to a glare as you looked out the carriage into the city. You lost your sweetness after your mother died, you were in no rush to get it back. 
“Who am I to wed?” You asked flatly, your stoic expression and eyes filled with venom shot outside of the carriage and away from your father. 
He sighed and looked upon you softly. “The Baratheon boys are eligible I suppose,” before he could finish you began. “Blondes, I have a distaste for blonde men.” You say as you rest your chin on your fist, still staring outside of the carriage. Your father let out a sigh about to lecture you on the importance of uniting families and the unimportance of such trivial things like personal happiness. But you cut him off, you look at him with eyes filled with venom, “I know you’ve a plan. You don’t go into anything blind.” he let out a small huff of a laugh as you arrived at the impressive castle. Your eyes did move from your fathers however. “You are just like your mother. Filled with angry eyes and hard questions.” Your eyes narrowed a bit, as the door to the carriage opened. 
“Welcome Lord Arryn, welcome Lady (Y/N)” 
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Later that evening, you met the Lannisters and Baratheons over dinner. 
You took note of the “Baratheon boys” your father mentioned. Sons of the King. From all those story books you'd read as a girl you would have thought that Princes’s would be handsome, kind, gentle, and brave. However you weren’t a naive child anymore. So the scrawny and boyish looking Joffrey didn’t surprise you, but did disappoint you. And Tommen was boyish too however Tommen was just that, a boy, a child. You found yourself praying again, praying you wouldn’t be subjected to an arranged marriage between either of them. 
The dinner was mostly spent with your father and Robbert yammering, and occasionally people needing to remind you that you were being spoken to. 
It was strange, on one hand you were excited to be out of the isolation of the Eyrie, on the other hand you couldn’t care less about the people around you. That was until the royal family's guard stepped into the room. The man was giant, standing at least 6 '6, his shoulders were so broad he had to step into a room at an angle. You felt your eyes linger on the figure just a second too long. Reverting it back to your hands in your lap. 
You felt her cheeks blush, you felt yourself get embarrassed by this. But the thing is you’ve never seen a man like that. You never saw a man that big, a man that broad, ever. The Eyrie was secluded and maybe men from the vale were just shorter. Maybe this was a southern thing. Before you could roll the thought around your brain for long, the hulking figure walked to the opposite side of the room, it was only then when you noticed his face lit by the candle lights.You saw the left side of his face first. His face was masculine, there was nothing about his appearance that was feminine. As you analyzed his face, he turned it towards you which is when you saw the opposite of his face. It was horribly scarred, all the hair on his face was burnt off and ribboned in scarred tissue. 
It was beautiful. You’d never seen anything like it. 
You didn’t break your gaze as it was intertwined with the giant in the room. His deep brown eyes seemed somewhat confused with something about you. You felt the blush returning to your cheeks and nose as you studied him. You only broke your improper gaze once you felt the dread you feel everytime your fathers gaze comes towards you. You were able to look away before he noticed. He grabbed ahold of your hand and shot you a half hearted smile hoping your sour mood would magically improve with this minimal affection. However the daggers in your eyes did not surrender. 
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You spent the following days walking around the castle, hoping for another glimpse at the man everyone feared so terribly. You asked your father about him, “He’s the royal family's dog, both the Cleganes are. They are not the kind of people I wish for you to be around.” You rolled your eyes, but the information you got from anyone else was no better. His monstrous and vile actions. His temper is so fierce he’d kill anyone without a second thought. But when you saw his eyes, those deep brown eyes, they weren’t mean or angry they were sad. They were scared.
Days in this shit city were long, and often just as boring as the days in the Eyrie. Only instead of a shivering cold there was a sticky warmth. Instead of Lysa and Robin there was Cersei and Joffrey. At least Robin didn’t kill little creatures and beat girls for fun. 
There were some advantages to living here however. There were more books, more food, more drinks, more dresses, more music. Living so high in the mountain such luxuries were sparse. Luxuries like friends, of which you felt you gained a few. The Tyrells for example were the only people you felt you could be truly honest with. Specifically Loras, there was a sense of vulnerability you two shared with each other. Both of you are unhappy with the prospect of marriage, arranged specifically. You remember the time he confessed to you that he was in love with a man. You walked through the garden together, those times became special. The only times when you and he could speak plainly. You always thought of how lovely it would be to have a friend, someone to trust solely. You always thought it would be a woman but you couldn’t complain. 
You held onto his hands as he confessed. He said he wished he could change, to not be what he was. 
“Never,” You held onto his hands tighter “Never wish for such things. Change even a single thing of you and you aren’t you. And you are my friend, my dearest friend.” You whispered, he embraced you tightly. You however had a slight growing distaste for Renly, a man who brought such tears to your friend. 
To anyone secretly observing, it was courting. To you and he, it was friendship. In its purest way. 
Maybe your father was true to his promise, he’d find you a man whom you’d love, a man who was brave and gentle. Only this love was different. As he was the only person you could trust.
The two of you thought of a plan for you and the wedding of one another. It was a good plan, the two of you would be bound by love and respect of which you both shared for the other. And the two of you would be free to find romantic, and sexual love freely. Loras teased you’d be able to fuck all the KingsGaurd if The Hound did not please you. It made you giggle but blush in embarrassment like a little girl.
Honestly you and he would have had the most healthy relationship of all the realm, and the only difference would be the two of you never consummated. But who would need to know? 
You almost went through with it after the death of your father. If it weren’t for the fact Cersei forced her company upon you so much, you could have ran to the nearest septon and made your marriage official. But Cersei never left you alone, you were either with her, or one of her ladies. And, and you hated to admit it, you’d miss those butterflies in your belly anytime you caught The Hounds gaze. It makes your cheek red and your belly burn. And you loved it, it might have been the only reason you could have lived during those days. You spent anytime you got alone with Loras talking about The Hound, a topic he grew bored of quickly. So you also spoke of your marriage. 
However these plans changed at the arrival of your cousin Sansa. Upon her arrival you saw a girl who would never handle the city she was stepping into with such naive big eyes and fairy tale fantasies of her future. You agreed with Olenna that Loras should attempt to court Sansa prior to her wedding with Joffrey, one last attempt at her freedom. You began to care less and less of your own.
Selfless yes, but stupid. 
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During the tournament you sat beside Sansa, and her father Nedd Stark who had such an affinity to your father apparently it was transferred to you now that he was dead and gone. She begged her father to stop the tournament. You wanted to roll your eyes at it, but you also wished someone would stop it as well. The Mountain, Gregor Clegane, scared you. He was different from his brother. The Hound was almost as big but he had a stoic and sad nature to him, even though everyone told you to beware. The brother you feared was Gregor, he was unstable, rabid, and frightened you to no end. You’d hoped your plan of him using your mare, who was in heat, would work. 
It was a trick, but a good one, if it worked. And it did, it upsets and confuses Gregor's mount. Gregor was thrown off his horse. You felt a wave of relief as Sansa stood and cheered. What you didn’t account for was Gregor's reaction. Gregor, absolutely furious, decapitated his own horse. You, still seated, grabbed ahold of Sansa’s arm as Gregor made his way to Loras. You sat and watched, you hoped someone, anyone would intervene. Renly, Nedd, the King, anyone. 
Just as you were sure that was the end, “Leave him be!” The giant man behind you roared. The Hound swung his sword blocking a fatal blow to Loras. You sat there, your eyes not wide but narrowed and brows furrowed. You studied the battle between these two brothers. You wondered why, why would this man risk his own life just to save one of Loras? If he was the merciless monster that everyone had claimed, why do this? As you watched these men fight you noticed, the noble men all fought as they were trained, this man fought as he knew would kill. He fought with experience. 
You couldn’t help but find it exciting. 
As The King called off this fight, The Hound dodged a fatal blow he simultaneously bowed to the King. This made your lips part slightly as you struggled to conceal a smile. 
As Loras named The Hound champion everyone stood and clapped, but not you. 
You sat and stared at the man, your cheeks with a renewed blush on them. You smiled softly at him, his gaze soon met your own. Once met, it was hard to break. 
You managed to weasel your way out of the sight of the Starks and Lannisters to check on Loras. As you made your way to the stables you didn’t find Loras but The Hound. You felt like you walked into a brick wall as you saw the Giant drinking from a wine skin sitting against the stable that held your own horse. He didn’t look at you as he said “Your pretty boy isn’t here, girl.” as he took another long swig of the wineskin in his fist. 
“I’m sure I don’t know who you refer to.” You lie as you slowly walk over to your horse. 
“Fuck you don’t.” He hissed  “Dirty trick you and that boy pulled.” 
“No honor in tricks.” You say feeding your horse some feed from your palm. 
“Honor,” He scuffs “only cunts believe in that shit.” your brows raised, you’d never heard a man curse so much. They rarely did in the company of a Lady. 
“There was honor in what you did, It was quite brave, Ser.” 
“I'm not a ser, I already told your pretty boy that.” 
“Loras is not my ‘pretty boy’” you said in a mocking tone making the hound crack a small smirk. 
“Fuck off,” He scuffed, “Round that boy you’re as in heat as that bitch mare in that stable.” 
“Is that why you came here? You sit in front of my mare's stable because you wanted to accuse me of having relations with a friend of mine?” You eyes shift from your mare to glare at him with disgust. His eyes locked with yours. He hardly needed to look up at you to see your eyes. 
“I don’t like the way you look at me.” He said flatly
“I don’t like the way you talk to me.” Your eyes went back to your mare. “Don’t talk to me like that and I won’t look at you like that.”
“Don’t matter how you look at me, just that you do.” He said as he took another swig. 
You looked down contemplating what that could have meant as you looked over to him. 
“Didn’t I just fuckin’ tell ya not to do that?” He growled however your gaze did not falter. 
“You did not, you said you don’t like it.” You asserted mockingly, not at all scared of this man beside you, even though you maybe should be.
He stood, showing just how small you were in comparison to him. As he loomed over you, his eyes raked over every part of you, avoiding your eyes. 
“It will serve you well to listen to a man. Save yourself some pain. Some men, like to hit stubborn girls like you. Men who like to beat them.” He said in a somewhat more gentle tone than before. 
Your eyes met him once more, as you looked up at him, you realized he’d never been so close to you. 
“And what of you? Are you one of those men?” You asked teasing him, testing his patience 
“Maybe,” he rasped “You don’t know the things I’ve done,” 
You turned your body towards him to face him completely. 
“You should be scared of me, of any man in this shit city.” 
“I should be, but I’m not. I tried to be, but I can’t make myself feel frightened by you.” You said fidgeting with your necklace. 
“I’m a killer,” He wrapped his fingers around your throat, but his grasp was hardly there at all, almost like he was hovering his hand there. “I could crush your pretty throat.” 
“Do it.” You said quickly, His brows furrowed, “You think I want to live here? Do it.” you held onto his wrist, needing both hands to grasp his thick wrist fully. “No, you won’t hurt me.” You say softly. 
His hand runs down your throat and lays flat engulfing your chest in his palm as his fingers laid on your collar bone. He felt your heartbeat for a moment, savoring it.  “No, no little bird, I won't hurt you.” He conceded painfully, the name he called you made your cheeks blush. With that he turned away from you and stomped out of the stables. 
You felt yourself release a breathe, fuck, you thought to yourself. 
Few questions remained in your mind, ‘Why was he so gentle?’  and ‘Why did he make you feel this way?’
NOTE: Hi, this is my first time writing any fanfiction- believe me it will get better. We will be fuckin I promise we will be laying it down girls!! This one is mainly just world building. Let me know if there's anything you’d like to see going forward! 
Xoxo 
Bambi <3
718 notes · View notes
occudo · 9 months ago
Note
wait, yo there’s an entire mage magic system in this au? Might I ask for more details?
Sooo...
The short answer is that is a soft magic system, with no hard rules, it's just fun with the characters.
The long answer on the other hand...
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I had a similar ask before, but since then some things changed, so I guess I try to explain it as best as I can.
So! This is a magical-fantasy-medieval AU, I was loosely inspired by arthurameslove 's fic This Lonely Knight, but since then I made my own version of a similar premise. The magic system is based on the original fears, the avatars are people who are affected by their magic, in one way or another. The more close to the fear the person is, the more magical effect it has.
The most known magic users are witches. They go to school to study, and from there, they can go and become advisors in small kingdoms where they can get gifted titles like Lady and Lord, but they don't get actual lands or servants.
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Jon is not an advisor, but Elias' protégé and he can afford to employ Martin, who is a Knight, and previously worked for Lord Lucas. Elias is the advisor of King Magnus.
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The kingdoms are based around the Fears, with most avatars being nobility or witches. (I wasn't sure if I wanted to make Simon a noble or a mage, maybe he is not so open about his skills) The witches are glass cannons- they can be really powerful in some situations but otherwise, kinda weak so is a common thing to have a designated knight bodyguarding them if they leave their palaces.
Martin is 'touched' but can't do magic the way Jon, or other witches.
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If a witch finishes school, they are respected and believed that they can control powerful magic (with circles and runes) without it affecting their bodies and minds negatively - not like Jane Prentiss, for example. She was a noblewoman who got- corrupted.
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Not every witch goes to serve nobility, there are plenty of small village witches, and Gertrude also tried to leave the palace and become a bog witch kinda deal.
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Innisially for this au, I made the 'witch factor' the characters' connection to the eye in canon. I didn't see either Tim or Martin really eye-aligned, so I made them knights instead.
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Since then I added Sky Mages for the Vast avatars- I just tought flying and stars and sky really deserve their own coven.
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I'm not sure about the other fears names and schools jet. The phrase Seer Mage came from @skell3 's fanfic inspired by my comic, and I loved it so much that I baked it in my au. Also, the thought that eye-aligned mages are all about seeking truth and other's secrets, while can't really fly or fight mutch was funny to me.
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So this is a loosy-goosy system that I'm still working on. I'm also open to suggestions- like with Basira and Daisy- they ended up being witch hunters.
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or Georgie and Melanie
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And I changed Michael from a jester to an actual noble/prince
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So yeah, I hope this answers your question. Mostly a character-based, case-by-case thingy.
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dipperscavern · 2 months ago
Text
THE BET - JON SNOW
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pairing: jon snow x gn!reader, 4.2k words
synopsis: you’ve made a bet with jon snow — now begs the question, who will come out on top?
authors note: i heard the call for jon snow content, and this idea came to me in the middle of the night wearing dobby the elfs tea cozy. enjoy! <3 [ @eldrith ]
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jon snow never considered himself a betting man.
he never considered himself a blushing one, either — or a swooning one. until he met you.
you bring out the best in him, it’s true. but you also (somehow) bring to light his playful side, the one he thought he left behind in winterfell; along with the games he, robb, and theon used to play, the peace of the godswood, the smell of the kitchens wafting through the corridors (stick them with the pointy end).
he had left it all at winterfell on purpose. he needed to shed jon, shed the princely stark-ness he’d grown up with (though he’d never consider himself a real one), and replace it with the black he adorned on his shoulders. ever since he knelt before the weirwood, swearing vows in the sight of the old gods, he was no longer boy — but man. and with that, he left the boyish attributes, replacing them by those of men. warriors. or, at least, he’d like to believe.
partaking in bets was one of the most boyish things he could do, but truly, he could not chide himself for it if he tried. it involves you — it involves making you smile. and that, he will never register as a thing needing scolding, even if it’s only internally.
it was painfully obvious to you and jon the way samwell tarly looked at gilly, daughter of the devil. you would know, it’s how you and jon spend your time looking at one another. sam is head over heels for gilly, always helping her to the best of his abilities, advocating for her, looking at her as if she hung the stars and the moon… yes, samwell tarly was smitten.
you and jon both knew gilly was taken with sam. gilly knew she was taken with sam. the only one who didn’t know gilly was taken with sam, was sam himself.
you and jon are rather protective over sam and gilly both, so while you’d kill and die for them, you’ve left their feelings to be sorted out themselves. of course, you give advice when asked, and perhaps give one a nudge in the right direction on occasion, but is it really meddling if it’s for a good cause?
the true reason sam had kept his feelings to himself so far, was an extremely sweet one. he didn’t want gilly to think he was just using her, or didn’t genuinely care for her. he didn’t want her to be able to look at him and see her father. well, that, and he was shy — but that was one of the things you and jon liked about sam. it somehow made him sweeter.
either way, even with his profound saint-like mindset, you could tell sam was getting closer to telling gilly how he really felt. you saw the way he would open his mouth to say something, how gilly would give him her full attention, then how he’d shrink back down, letting his nerves get the best of him.
sam only grew more frustrated as time went on (never with gilly, only himself). when asked, sam would stumble out something like-
“Gilly — oh, right, she’s um — she’s great...” with a defeated look in his eye, leaving before you could ask further.
staring at her (more than usual), never being able to fully concentrate when she was near. he’d always start to approach her, then let his nerves steer him in the other direction. gilly was now all sam could think about, it being the only topic of conversation jon could coax out of him. sure, it began to drive jon fairly mad, but it was better than the grumbling silence you’d endured at the start of his romantic-turmoil. samwell tarly was nearing the edge of insanity, and you & jon could both tell it wouldn’t be long yet. so, naturally, you’d made a bet.
“You know, I think Sam’s really gonna do it.”
your voice cut through the silence as you and jon cleaned up the mess hall. right now, you were looking out a window, watching sam and gilly have a conversation. sam was fidgeting, the way he always does when he’s nervous.
“You must not know him very well, then.” jon says. you turn to give jon an exasperated look, barely concealing the roll of your eyes. he looks up at you, and you see the upward quirk of his lips that tells you he finds this — the joint disagreeing — truly enjoying.
“I mean it,” you say, touching your tongue to the roof of your mouth, turning back to resume observing them. as gilly and sam share a smile, a noise akin to one you’d make seeing a small puppy rises from the back of your throat, voice softening. “Awh— Jon, look at them.”
this does the trick of grabbing jon’s attention, and he stops his table-scrubbing to come join you at the window. he shakes his head, exhaling through his nose. “It’ll never happen,” he says.
“Gods, Snow,” the use of his surname in place of your usual (honey-dripping) ‘jon’ has his head snapping to you. “I didn’t take you for faithless.”
the chuckle jon lets slip has shivers crawling up your spine. you choose to ignore it. “I only mean,” he says, re-wetting his scrub brush. “that Sam is one to take it slow.” you turn to give him a look that has him backtracking.
“Slower than he has been,” he clarifies. he looks to you, and takes your lack of response as acceptance, moving to resume his table-scrubbing. you resume as well, and a few seconds pass before you stop, looking at jon with newfound defiance.
“No— your absence of faith does not deter me,” you say, pointing an accusing finger at jon. he bites back his smile at how cute you look in your retaliation. “Sam’s going to do it, I know this.”
jon takes the bait, setting down his scrub brush, leaning both hands against the table. “Alright, and I know he won’t.”
you scoff at his stubbornness. “He’ll approach her by the next moon’s turn.” you don’t give sam much time, the next moons turn being only a week away. you don’t give it any thought.
jon raises his brows. “And if he doesn’t?”
“Then you win.” you say, lightly shrugging. “Aye, I would. What would I get in return?” he asks, unrelenting. you search for something worthy to offer, but come up short. he fills in the gaps for you.
“Whatever I want?”
you nod. you usually wouldn’t put such a promise in a man of the nights watches hands, most being criminals & rapists, but it’s not just anyone you’re trusting. it’s jon. he’s safe.
“You’re on, Snow.” you say, returning to your table-scrubbing without further word than that. jon ignores the butterflies in his stomach, and attempts to scrub them away on the hard wood of the worn-out oak table.
ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ
over the next week, you’re starting to become faithless; it seems the gods have abandoned you.
you thought his frustration would boil over, giving him the confidence he needed to confess, but yet again, samwell tarly has exceeded expectations in the department of pining.
jon silently relishes in his oncoming victory, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so — prone to smiling. whenever he sees you, he bites the inside of his cheek (or his tongue), in every effort to conceal the massive grin that threatens to erupt on his face. this only makes you grumble, and edds told you if you don’t stop rolling your eyes so much they’ll get stuck like that.
sam has peeled away from everything entirely, it seems. keeping his head down, only speaking when spoken to, always looking like he has something on his mind. he’s like this with everyone, jon, gilly, and you included. the nights watch is feeling the absence of their usual beam of light, and edds proclaimed if you, jon, and gilly aren’t being spoken to, then they all should keep an eye out for wildlings flying over the wall until further notice.
now, when you and jon see each other, it’s more silent than ever. you know if he opens his mouth it’ll be boasting proclamations of onset victory, and you can’t say if that happens you won’t put your hands on him. he seems to know this too, smart enough to keep to himself and not press your buttons. somehow this only frustrates you more. maybe if jon was more insufferable, you’d have a harder time loving him.
even with your own romantic dilemma, the main thing on your mind is sam, and the stupid bet you shouldn’t have made in the first place. you’ve tried leaving sam alone, forgetting about it entirely, praying, and even giving him a nudge in the right direction. making sure jon wasn’t near, then asking about his day, and after, about gilly — but iif you ask about gilly, you get the same record on repeat.
“What? Oh, Gilly, yeah… yeah she’s great. Working with Maester Aemon ‘nd… she’s great, really.” he’d say, fiddling with his hands, gaze trapped on the floor (or, if gilly was in the vicinity, on her).
your gaze would soften, but even you aren’t enough this time. “Sam, look, maybe you should—“
“Oh— I’ve got to go, I’m late for my meeting with Jon. Bye.. bye then!” he’d call, walking quickly in the other direction (not toward jon’s chambers), and as he walks away, you could almost see victory leaving with him.
by the end of the week, you and sam are in the same boat emotionally. jon thinks if you scrub the tables any harder you’ll break the wood, and this time, he doesn’t refrain from mentioning it.
“Careful.”
he means it in (half) good faith, but you glare at him all the same. and you see the shift in his tongue that means he’s biting down on it to stop his smile from appearing. you roll your eyes, and the image of edds face appears in your head as you do so.
you scrub angrily for the next few minutes, until you can’t bear it anymore.
“I can’t believe it. I actually can’t believe it, Jon.”
he glances up at you, a raise of his brows appearing as he speaks. “Who’s faithless now?”
“Don’t. You and I both know he was near to burst a week ago.” you say, crossing your arms and looking out the same window you did the night a bet was made.
jon makes a noise of disagreement, but (intelligently) doesn’t press any further.
“I just don’t get it. How can — how can you be so,” you look for the right wording, emotion punctuating your sentences. “so in love with someone without telling them?”
jon momentarily stops scrubbing, entire body pausing at your words. luckily for him, you’re too caught up with sam to notice. jon gets it.
“He doesn’t want to ruin what they have.” he says, and if you weren’t so frustrated, you’d pick up on the tone that says he isn’t just talking about sam and gilly. you come to sit at the bench of the table hes working on, and jon notices the color of your eyes bathed in the light exuding from the window.
“Right, but—“ you sigh, trying to string your thoughts together. “but they could have more. Isn’t it worth the risk, than to spend your time only being that? Always dancing on the edge of more?”
the sincerity jon can see in your eyes only makes his heart race, but it also makes him reflect on your relationship. jon’s in love with you, that much is easy to pinpoint, but do you love him? would you allow his tainted hands to sully you, if given the opportunity? jon’s gaze flickers to your lips, and returns back to your eyes.
though quick, in the silence, you notice it. you take pity, leaning back to allow jon his personal space (that you hadn’t even registered invading) back. he only wishes you’d return, even closer this time.
but he doesn’t say that. among all the things unspoken…
“Sam doesn’t think it worth the risk.” he decides, and he can see the gears turning in your head. he returns to light scrubbing to give you time to string your thoughts together. you don’t like speaking without correlation (the first thing jon learned about you).
a few seconds pass before you speak, and your voice is quieter than its usual volume. “Do you think it worth the risk?”
jon’s silence only prompts you to make the question clearer. “If you had the opportunity, would you risk it?”
would he? would he speak your name, of the devotion he harbors for you? he could take the risk, but what’s the rush? jon’s never considered his time with you limited. he shrugs.
“It depends,” he says. “On the person.. how long I have. Some are content where they stand.”
you nod, but he can tell that’s not the answer you were looking for. “I think so,” he adds as an afterthought. you seem content with it, and brush his knuckles in passing as you return to your own table. it makes his heart jump.
jon would think it accidental if he didn’t know you so well.
ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ
you think you could smell jon’s amusement from anywhere you stand in castle black.
the moon turns tonight, and sam seems no closer now than he was a week ago. the jest is on you for putting faith in the confidence of cowards.
you’re perfectly content to avoid jon for the entirety of the day, and even worse, he seems content to let you. you meet each others eyes in passing, and while your gaze is defeated, his is only cloaked with half-amused sympathy (accompanied by that smile he adorns only when he’s with you). if you looked closer, you don’t doubt you could find some arrogance in there, but you’re too busy being a sore loser to try. it doesn’t occur to you that jon hates not seeing you achieve, even if it’s only a bet. one that’s in his favor.
the nights watch had decided to celebrate the moons turning with drinks after supper tonight. usually, the moon isn’t any topic worthy of celebration, but things have been unusually quiet in castle black lately. as far as white walkers and wildlings go, that is. why not have a little fun?
the mess hall is warm, bustling with the combined voices of black brothers. bellies are full, and the ale in everyone’s cup allows for a lighthearted atmosphere. you’ve decided to put the bet on a back burner, a simmering problem to deal with tomorrow. you’re warm & fuzzy, looser with your tongue than usual; although you can’t help wincing whenever someone drops food or creates a new stain on the tables.
you forego avoiding jon, and not just because you naturally gravitate toward him when drinking ale. he’s more than eager to keep you by his side, not fully trusting anyone in the room with you incapacitated (maybe edd on blood moons).
much to your dismay, there’s been no sign of samwell tarly. he had vacated the premises after everyone was done supping, and before the ale had been poured. everyone noticed; of course they did. sam was alike to the glue that held much together. sure, he was cowardly, and occasionally frustrating, but sam was the voice of reason. and everyone was starting to feel the weight of his absence.
bet or not, you think after tonight you might have to seriously intervene in your friends love life. you hate to see him like this, dejected and hopeless…. maybe you have a better chance of guiding gilly than sam. in the midst of your thoughts, you glance out the window noticing the sun setting. and with it, goes any hope you had at victory.
jon’s gaze follows yours, and recognizes your defeat with you. but still, ever the gentleman, he doesn’t mention it; only allowing a small upward tug to play on his lips. you return it, momentarily leaning into jon in a silent acknowledgment, before getting roped into grenns white-walker conspiracy theory.
the hours pass easily, greatly enjoying the boisterous atmosphere, the ale making you warm & floaty. you find it harder to keep your eyes off jon as the night goes on, and you almost internally chide yourself for it; until you recognize that every time you’ve stolen a glance at jon, he’s already been looking at you.
eventually, it gets late, and you want to turn in. the only reason jon’s been here so long is you anyways, so when he says his goodbyes along with you, silently following you out, you don’t pay it any mind. your tipsy brain clouds your judgement, and you wrap a hand around his bicep, the muscle underneath making you feel fuzzy.
jon only glances down to where you meet, afraid if he looks too long, you’ll get shy and pull away. and he really, really doesn’t want you to pull away.
you walk in silence until a thought occurs to you. you decide to push aside your pride and propriety, letting instead curiosity steer your tongue.
“So, Snow,” you begin, and he hums, propping you to go on. “Since you’ve won, what’ll it be?”
it seems that the ale isn’t just affecting you, because the question makes jon smile almost too easily. you want to see more of it, so you continue.
“A handshake… the clothes off my back… my soul…” you remark, and it gets you just want you wanted — jon shakes his head, smile not leaving his face.
“Not here,” he says, and he steers you both in the direction of the wall. what jon could possibly want that would need the privacy of the wall, you’re unsure (no you aren’t).
the walk there is quiet, the only sound being the wind flapping your coats. it only makes you more aware of the warmth emanating from jon, and you both pretend you don’t lean into each other. you only remove your hand from him as you approach the box, and he puts a hand on the small of your back to usher you in front of him. if jon would do so without the added ale is a thing that you question for only a moment, as the creaking of the box signals it’s begun ascent.
now you really are curious as to what jon could want. he’s an honorable man… does he need a secret kept? a new cloak? or does he just wish for a conversation in the solaced privacy of the wall?
the ride up feels shorter than usual, but you’re not sure what to blame it on. it’s a strange feeling, your nerves on fire, yet the ale douses it to a low buzz. you partially blame jon, always forgetting yourself when he’s present. how you ever hope to confront your feelings is beyond you.
when you step out, jon offers his arm this time, and you gladly accept it. perhaps you’re not the only one who finds comfort in the action.
you begin your walk, and based on the route, you think he’s taking you both to your favorite place. a quiet indent in the wall, close enough to not be a far walk, but long enough to get away from prying eyes and listening ears. it has a small wall of ice that acts as a (sort of) guard-rail, coming to the waist — but the rest is left open, the expanse of woods beyond the wall available to be gazed upon.
the quiet is comfortable, as it always is with jon. you have much on the tip of your tongue, but give him the courtesy of speaking first.
it’s not long before you’re approaching your little sanctuary; scattered black brothers are guarding the expanse of the wall behind you, and in front of you, but none linger around this area. the thought remains in the back of your mind as you make the turn, walking into the indent, the view beyond it making your breath hitch.
you remove your hand from jon’s arm, instead splaying it across the waist-high-iced-guard-rail. it’s freezing, even under your gloved hand, yet it’s a welcome respite from the way jon sets your nerves alight, turning your skin to fire. patience is hard, yet you wait for him to speak.
“What you said,” he begins. “about taking the risk,”
you turn to look at him, but this time, he doesn’t meet your eyes. his tongue darts out to wet his lip, the way it does when he’s nervous. what could jon have to be nervous about?
“It made me think…”
whatever jon was going to say, you’re not sure you’ll ever know, because rapidly approaching footsteps have the words dying on his tongue — looking behind you both. who is running down the wall at this hour? and why?
a figure appears, out of breath and panting. sam.
“I looked for you! In the— in the mess hall, but— Grenn and Edd said you weren’t there, said you’d left,” you and jon must look as confused as you are, since when did sam run?
a grin erupts on sam’s face as he gets past his introduction. “I did it! I really did it!”
“Did what?” jon prompts, but you think he already knows.
“Gilly!” sam says, and you can feel your brows instantly un-crease themselves. “Well, I— you know, I was nervous. Didn’t want to ruin what we had or, or what she thought of me but.. I just sort of— went up to her and did it! I can’t believe she said yes…” he says, wistfully looking to the sky with a smile on his face, like he can’t believe the gods allowed it to happen, either. you wore one of your own, bathing in jon’s defeat.
sam looks at you both for a minute, then at jon, and the smile he’s wearing dies down as he realizes he’s interrupted. “Oh— oh, sorry… I’ll go now, I just—“ reality seems to hit him again, as another smile erupts on his face.
“I did it!” he says, then spins on his heel, leaving you both atop the wall.
a few moments pass, before you turn to look at jon. you both have a look of disbelief, yours mixed with a smile — and strangely enough, even in defeat, so is his.
“I’m thinking your rations for a month, the cloak you’re wearing...” you say, and jon huffs out a laugh (they come easier around you)
“What Sam did, is called blindsiding—“
“Hm,” you say, interrupting the end of his sentence. “It looks like defeat, instead. What were you going to demand, again?”
you’re only teasing, but you accidentally hit a soft spot. you see the way his smile falters, seriousness beginning its return to his face. it makes your own smile disappear.
“I didn’t— I wasn’t trying to…” you say, but once you see the expression on his face, something clicks. “What were you going to ask for, Jon?”
it seems like you’ve asked him to throw himself off the wall. he shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter.”
“To me it does.”
he begins to turn away from you, but your hand flies to his arm, halting him. he sighs in frustration. you try to catch his gaze, but he makes effort not to look at you.
“I won, and that’s what I ask.” you say, “For you to tell me what you wanted.”
you can see his internal turmoil, but that only makes you want to shrink away. what plagues jon so badly he dares not to speak it aloud? not speak of it to you?
you can tell he doesn’t want to say it, but a bet is a bet.
“You.”
your brows scrunch involuntarily. “Me?”
“I wanted to kiss you.” he says, his gaze flickering momentarily to your lips. “Want.”
your lips part in shock. not that he wants to kiss you (you’ve known. you want to kiss him) but that you’ve been able to coax him to say as much.
your gaze flicks to his lips once, twice, and you step closer — body almost flush with his. at the same time you reach up, jon leans down, and you connect your lips with his. they’re soft, warm; everything you thought they’d be when your thoughts would drift to him.
the kiss is sweet, tentative. exploring unknown territory, but also wanting — needing. you feel jon’s hand come to your waist, pulling you even closer (if possible), your body now flush against his.
eventually, the need to breathe takes over, and you both (reluctantly) pull apart. his cheeks are flushed, and you have an idea that it’s not from the cold this time. his pupils are blown, want pooling in them; but, also, something else swims in the midst. confusion.
“But— I lost,” he says, looking to you for an answer. you pretend to take mild offense, a playful roll of your eyes accompanying your words.
“You know, Jon, when someone gets kissed, they usually don’t consider it a loss.”
it seems to be the right answer, a smile tugging its way back up his lips. his response is him leaning down to kiss you again.
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mind-lost-in-the-stars · 3 months ago
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a very minor thing about Richie’s death that’s bothered me for awhile now is how Pete and Ruth (I suppose Grace and Steph as well) don’t piece it together after it’s mentioned that Zeke the Fightin’ Nighthawk was murdered
clip for context
i will say that the digital ticket shows more remorse from both Ruth and Steph, but only after Richie is name dropped so yeahh…why didn’t they know Richie was the mascot when other people like Jason (and most likely Max) did? we also know him being the mascot isn’t a recent development after Max dies thanks to Jason’s “member of this team who’s gone unappreciated for far too long” line. that to me implies at least since the beginning of their senior year
a few ideas:
- he never told them because max threatened him is the theory that makes the most sense since “Jägerman doesn’t let nerds go to football games”, but this means he let Richie be the mascot for some unknown reason. was it to let Richie have a bit of happiness that Max still ultimately had control of. I don’t know, but it’s fun to think about
- it’s also very possible he never told them because he never had a reason to tell them, but Richie seems like the type of person to talk about the things that make him happy, and he clearly enjoys being zeke
-maybe max never knew, and Richie knew that if he found out that Max would beat him up for it, but this leaves the question of how Jason knows. if Jason knew and not Max, shout out to Jason for not being a snitch—love that man
- (take this one with a big ol’ grain of salt if u don’t like michie related things) there’s a chance that Richie being the mascot allowed him to see other sides of Max that weren’t just the bullying side which made Max grow on Richie even just a little bit. he of course wouldn’t want Pete and Ruth to know about this, so he kept that and him being the mascot to himself. Jon matteson mentioned once on a stream how out of the nerds Richie felt the worst about Max’s death and maybe that’s because he was (by process of elimination) the closest to Max in that group
- a sadder theory is that Pete, Richie, and Ruth actually just weren’t that close of friends. they all kind of just formed a group at a young age cause they were all labeled as nerds and sorta just stuck with each other through life cause they didn’t have anywhere else to go. I know it’s implied in “go, go nighthawks” that Richie being late to class isn’t abnormal, but for him to be missing for NEARLY THREE FUCKING DAYS and to have neither Ruth or Pete bat an eye either says something about them, something about Richie, but definitely says something about their dynamic as a group. (this is absolutely just theorizing about worst possible scenarios in no possible way do I see this one being the case)
I know it’s not a big deal like at all (and is a problem with a lot of other slasher media), but it always gets to me when characters move past the death of one of their best friends so fast just because a show needs to keep the plot moving.
*sigh*
either way, Richie deserved so so so much better and I hope he’s being held by Rei and Asuka in wherever the hell he ended up <33
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