#(who don't appear but are discussed at length)

[flawseer]

On the False Dragonets of Destiny

Recycled art... Forgive me, I can't physically draw more than I currently am.

Just a little while ago I was looking at some replies to my recent work, and I noticed a nice comment from someone who expressed they enjoyed my comics featuring the false dragonets of destiny, but couldn't really get into them in the books. I am thankful for that comment, but even more thankful for the opportunity to ramble at length about something I kind of wanted to talk about, but couldn't find a plausible excuse for. Until now.

All of this is just my reading of the material, of course. You don't need to agree with me on this.

Content Warning: Some discussion of abuse, trauma, violence. I don't know if it's severe enough to warrant a warning, but better be safe.

General discussion

The false dragonets of destiny, the alternates, or whatever one wants to call them. They enter the story proper in book 4, after having made a few minor cameo appearances before, and serve as a kind of hybrid antagonistic force and pseudo-allies for Starflight during his stay on the Nightwing Isle. During that time, they are very abrasive, stand-offish, uncooperative, and a bit annoying, and I guess that doesn't make them come off very well. But like, in spite of that or maybe partially because of it, I am really fond of these guys, and I'd like to take some time talking them up to you.

One can examine how these guys act and conclude that they are a bunch of dysfunctional screw-ups. And they absolutely are that, don't get me wrong. But one should keep in mind: the majority of the time they are in the spotlight, they are in an extreme, tense, and frighteningly uncertain situation. It's easy to forget how stressful these situations are because the books as a whole really like to gloss over the more frightening kind of subjects on account of being written for young readers. You can't really go deep into themes of abuse, trauma, and depression in a story like that without tripping over some kind of censor on the way, but the implications are there, between the lines for you to find.

Understanding the group

Who are the false dragonets of destiny? They are posited as a mirror image of the true dragonets of destiny, who have all been extensively schooled in matters of education and martial prowess. The first thing we see THIS group do on page is brawl, so one may think they must be trained and capable fighters. Viper and Flame constantly throw around death threats and aggressive quips, so one may think they are hyper-violent and dangerous. They are neither. Nautilus admits the Talons haven't bothered training them at all, they haven't seen real combat, they've likely been deliberately kept away from the war as a whole. Flame doesn't even know how to use his fire breath correctly. Starflight, who is by far the least physically adept of the arc 1 protagonists, is able to outpace them even as four of them team up against him.

They are neither killers nor a crack team of badasses, rather they are a bunch of play-fighting, posing delinquents who talk a big game with little in terms of actual skill to back it up. Realizing this is key to understanding just how out of their depth and ill-equipped they are to handle anything that gets thrown at them on the Nightwing homeland, especially past the negotiations at the Skywing outpost.

Abduction and imprisonment

When Starflight first finds them, they have been on the Nightwing Isle for a good while, and they are suitably bristly because of it.

Look at this situation from their perspective. These guys have known nothing other than their semi-peaceful life in the Talon camp. Then the leader of that camp, Nautilus--a figure they all know and trust, essentially sells them to a frightening stranger, who looms over them and is so physically large he could crush each of them easily. This stranger pulls them away from their home without even giving them a chance to say goodbye to their relatives (I'm convinced Avalanche would not have let Morrowseer take her son if there was a chance to intervene, so Flame must have already been gone when she found out).

A contingent of Nightwing awaits them, blindfolds them so they don't know where the entrance to the Nightwing home is. They pass through a kind of eldritch tunnel that pulls at their souls. When they are finally allowed to see again, they find themselves trapped on an island where there is no sunlight and every breath hurts as the air is thick with ash.

The Nightwings won't let them leave, in fact they don't know if they will ever be able to leave again. Nobody tells them what's going on, what they are meant to do, or what the plan is. They are left confined in some room with nothing to do, and they (sans Fatespeaker) can't go outside without being arrested. Food is brought very infrequently, and usually inedible, so they haven't eaten since they were forced to leave home. They don't know where they are, nor where their parents are, nor if their parents know where THEY are. They are completely cut off from anywhere, isolated, trapped in this little slice of hell with no means to escape and little hope to acquire any soon.

I think if I was in a situation like that, I would be pretty cranky too. More than that, I would be scared out of my wits, and I believe that they are as well. If you look at their actions through a lens of them being frightened, their irritating quirks suddenly become very relatable. Viper is coping by throwing out threats and making herself seem bigger and scarier than the thing trapping her. Flame makes offensive jokes about killing Fatespeaker because making light of the situation helps him keep his wits together. Ochre is hard to read, but I think he's just tuning everything out. Squid is convinced that his father--who is the most important and smart dragon in all of Pyrrhia--has made the correct choice and knows what's best for all of them. And Fatespeaker is in complete denial, choosing to trust an inaccurate vision of the future while ignoring all the red flags that don't fit into it.

I think it's interesting that you can read this as all of them having a different strategy to cope with the uncertain and frightening situation they're trapped in. That's part of why I like them; they're very flawed and make interesting decisions.

Trauma and Empathy

You can look at someone like Squid and see his surface traits: He is annoying, he whines and complains constantly, he brags about who his father is, and he seems completely incapable of doing anything useful. If this guy was in any other story, I would probably dislike him. But Squid has the benefit of being a whiny dweeb in a situation where it is very appropriate to whine and be scared. He has a scene where he makes a somewhat goofy speech at Morrowseer where he calls him stupid and wants to go home, and is subsequently exiled. It's a bit silly in execution, but for me it did succeed in making me feel bad for Squid as he desperately and pathetically pleads for Morrowseer not to send him to his death.

But then you can read beyond the lines a little and view the scene in the full context that isn't really dwelt on. Here, you've got Squid, who is inept even among his peers, sheltered and doted on by his father, whom he has never been away from for any real amount of time until now. This guy, who probably can't even feed himself (otherwise he might have been able to catch fish in the waters around the island), keeps telling himself that his father has a plan, that all of this, even the questionable stuff, is happening for a reason. He hasn't eaten in weeks and he's been the punching bag for everyone else's frustrations (because Fatespeaker is not around enough, hanging out with Starflight). Now he has been chased halfway across the world, forced to cross the ocean while tired and starving, to be told he has to talk to a bunch of violent strangers who hate his kind and want to kill him. He tries to hide but is grabbed by the throat and held in the air by a soldier twice his size. This is likely the first time his life has ever been threatened that directly and with genuine intent.

The strange new Nightwing who was sent with them somehow manages to deescalate the situation enough to save him, but then, without warning, more dragons burst into the room. Suddenly everything is on fire, including the soldiers who just a moment ago threatened him. He is close enough to them to watch their forms twist and writhe in agony as they slowly burn to death.

As he is made to watch this horrifying spectacle, all the feelings he repressed by reminding himself of the faith he has in his father come flooding back in at once. It becomes too much for him to bear, and he breaks. He starts crying and verbally lashes out at their abuser for the horrid conditions they have been placed in and demands--half asserting and half pleading--to be allowed to go home. This isn't really whining anymore, this is a full-scale mental breakdown, rendered to be simple and digestible to a young audience. Imagine how harrowing this scene could have been if it wasn't filtered through a child-friendly narrative.

Closing thoughts

There is a scene some time after that I found kind of poignant. At one point, Starflight looks out and he sees Flame just standing out there, silently staring into the distance. There's maybe one line dedicated to it, and when you read the book normally, you don't really dwell on it since it's so nondescript. But this scene happens shortly after the visit to the remote outpost. The soldiers that burned to death in there were all Skywings. Skywings like himself, and like his mother, who also was a soldier before she joined the Talons. Whenever I picture him standing there, I imagine he is reliving that moment, hearing the dying screams of his kinsmen. I think he will be hearing them forever.

So in conclusion: The reason why I like the alternate dragonets so much is because of the enormous, untapped potential they possess as characters, and how deep some of them run if you take some time to look at them. I feel like all of them have a story to tell, and it's a bit of a shame that Sutherland likely won't come around to telling any of them. If I had infinite time, money, and energy, I would love to make many more comics about them, as they are an interesting lot.

Especially Flame's story I feel is such a heartbreaking tragedy, and thinking about the way it ended saddens me. He's one of my six all-time favorite characters in the series, I wish he could have gone out in a happier, healthier way.

[johannestevans]

in a world of rising anti-intellectualism there is a fervent and unspeakably satisfying joy in being able to have an impassioned conversation about the philosophy or ethics or impact or significance or greater meaning of a subject without having to worry about the Negative Appearances of seeming to know or care about a topic

like god. people are always like "nerds and geeks are accepted now" but like, no they're not. the aesthetics and brands and commodifiable aspects of nerd culture are absolutely accepted now

but people still get angry and upset and have pissy little tantrums if you analyse anything and they don't Get It.

"it's not that deep" "why do you care" and so on. you're allowed to talk about the Hidden Meanings in lord of the rings if you call them easter eggs or "things you didn't know about--" or otherwise present them as like. established and inescapable truth

but if you talk at length about like, various underlying themes in lord of the rings - homoeroticism and male intimacy, the futility of war, the death of empires and nations, loneliness, trauma survivorship, the political impacts of translation, systems of power, racism and antisemitism, misogyny and the dismissal of women, etc etc

half the time you talk about any of it at any length of time and the same ppl who purport to love lotr will become upset and bored and frustrated, because their relationship to LOTR is partially as a commercial property to which they can adhere their identity, or as a form of entertainment they can semi-passively consume

discussion, debate, and critical analysis of any property to which someone attaches their identity becomes fraught with emotion, most of all for those who have been denied the opportunity to develop their own critical skills by inadequate or abusive schooling, or robbed of confidence not only by shitty schooling, but also by a surveillance state and a cannibalistic social media landscape that makes people continuously paranoid about voicing a wrong (or god forbid, cancellable) viewpoint

and idk i think that's fucked up

[soaplickerrr]

╰┈➤ How I feel like SKZ would reveal your relationship!!

Seungmin

Bangchan, Lee Know, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix, Seungmin, I.N

Go show some love to “Stray Love”, It's an Idol!Hyunjin x FemReader fic, first part is out!

Warnings~ FemReader | Established relationship | Idol Au | kinda ooc | I can't write very accurate personalities so pls forgive me for that 😔

Ps: These will be accidental moments when a fan notices something and the member can't help but just reveal it.

Summary: The sight of a ring leads to so much speculation..

THANK YOU TO @hereforthedrinkss FOR THE PROMISE RING IDEA 🙇🏽‍♀️🙇🏽‍♀️

Seungmin was always a private person, and his bandmates in Stray Kids knew this well. But lately, they had noticed something was different. Seungmin was spending more and more time alone, canceling plans with the group to go somewhere else or stay in and text someone. He always seemed distracted and preoccupied, constantly glued to his phone. The members couldn't help but feel a bit suspicious, and they started to exchange glances whenever they saw Seungmin sneaking glances at his phone or hiding it from their view.

One day, during a live, a fan caught view of a ring on Seungmin's left hand. It was subtle, but it was there.

The fan recognized the ring as one they had seen while shopping for promise rings on Etsy with their boyfriend. Excited, they shared their discovery online, speculating about the ring and Seungmin's relationship status. The tweet quickly went viral, with fans debating and discussing the possibility of Seungmin having a girlfriend.

As the rumors spread, more and more fans started to point out instances where Seungmin had seemed to hide his left hand during live streams and recording sessions. Fans recalled seeing him shake his head "no" when staff pointed at the ring, and how he always seemed to hide his left hand when getting styled so they don't take it off.

The online discussion continued to grow, with fans pointing out more instances where Seungmin had seemed to hide his left hand. Some fans even went back and rewatched old videos, noticing that Seungmin seemed to be careful to keep his left hand out of view in several live streams and recording sessions.

Days passed, and the rumors and speculations continued to spread like wildfire. Fans were becoming more and more convinced that Seungmin had a girlfriend, and they began to connect the dots between all the clues they had discovered.

Fans started paying even closer attention to Seungmin's behavior during their live streams and TV appearances. They noticed that whenever the group was being interviewed or had group photos taken, Seungmin would often position himself so that his left hand was out of view or not visible.

Whenever the members of Stray Kids live streamed times when they were eating together or having casual hangouts, Seungmin would constantly check his phone and seemed to be texting someone. The other members tried to pry and ask him who he was texting, but he would always brush them off and say he was just talking to a friend.

The fans began to piece together all the clues they had observed about Seungmin's behavior and realized that something was definitely up. They wondered why Seungmin was being so secretive about his left hand and who he was constantly texting on his phone. Some fans even began to speculate that Seungmin might have a girlfriend, citing all the evidence they had gathered.

As the rumors and speculations continued to swirl online, JYP Entertainment, Stray Kids' agency, released an official statement addressing the rumors about Seungmin.

The statement explained that Seungmin had indeed been in a relationship for the past two years and that he wanted to keep his love life separate from his idol life. JYP acknowledged that the members of Stray Kids were unaware of Seungmin's relationship, emphasizing that Seungmin had gone to great lengths to keep it private.

The statement further mentioned that while the agency respected Seungmin's privacy, it also recognized the importance of fans' support for the group's members. JYP assured fans that Seungmin's personal life would not affect Stray Kids' activities or his dedication to his career as a singer and performer.

The statement concluded by asking fans to respect Seungmin's privacy and to refrain from speculation or harassment regarding his personal life. JYP reiterated that Seungmin was still the same talented and hardworking member of Stray Kids that fans had come to love and support over the years.

The statement quickly spread online, with fans expressing a mixture of surprise and relief that the mystery had finally been solved. While some were upset that Seungmin had kept his relationship a secret from his bandmates and fans for so long, many expressed understanding and respect for his decision to keep his love life private.

The members of Stray Kids reacted to the news with various levels of shock and amusement. Some were taken aback by the revelation and admitted they had never suspected Seungmin had a girlfriend, while others claimed they had their suspicions all along.

Despite the surprise of the revelation, the members of Stray Kids expressed that they were happy for Seungmin and respected his decision to keep his personal life private. They joked about feeling left out and teased Seungmin for being so sly and secretive, but overall they were supportive of his relationship and his desire to keep it out of the limelight.

From that day forward, fans of Stray Kids were reminded that behind the glitz and glam of their favorite idols' public personas lay real people with their own private lives and emotions. Despite the excitement and curiosity surrounding Seungmin's relationship, fans ultimately respected his choice to keep it out of the spotlight and continued to support him and Stray Kids in their music and performances.

RAHH THIS FEELS LAZY 😡😡

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Sanji and Zoro hardly get along, requring a lot of effort to keep things civil between them. But when it's revealed that they've both set their eyes on the same girl, their rivalry might just get out of hand.]

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

If Sanji was a different man, maybe he'd feel a bit embarrassed about his little habit. Maybe he'd question whether intensely staring at his crewmate from afar is appropriate.

However, he is who he is, so Sanji just silently smokes his cigarette all the while watching you discuss something with Nami. You're telling her something that must have really moved you - there's a plethora of emotions on your face and your hands are all over the place gesturing. The cook chuckles to himself. You're cute when you're excited.

Then, something stings inside his chest. What does Sanji have to do to become your confidant? To be the person you run to whenever you need an ear to listen? His suave words and rivers of compliments have worked perfectly so far but it seems like he's come to some plateau. Lingering touches, less than ambiguous remarks, favors and gifts... And yet you're not any more inclined to throw yourself at him than you were a month ago.

"Don't bother, waiter." he hears a voice behind him.

Sanji almost chokes on the cigarette smoke. He wasn't expecting anyone to catch him red-handed, much less for that person to be Roronoa Zoro - the only one who would spill his little secret just to get under his skin.

But Zoro's willingness to get under the cook's skin goes a lot deeper, at least in Sanji's mind. He's not oblivious to the swordsman's prying eyes that follow you and the compliance with which he succumbs to your every whim, even if he tries to appear annoyed.

Sanji feels his skin burn as he watches you move around in a short skirt. As though he's under a curse or stared the Basilisk straight in the eye, he can't look away. You've asked Nami to cut the material down, not being a fan of the way you looked in a knee-length skirt. It wasn't bad, just a little awkward.

Now you're standing in front of Nami, turning around and walking in place so she can see if everything's the way you wanted. The ginger girl keeps grabbing the hem of the skirt, folding it upwards to see if the seams are right.

Then a few floorboards creak as someone else approaches the scene.

"What do you think, Zoro?" you ask in a thrilled voice. Maybe if Sanji made his presence known, you'd ask him too. Then he could gawk at you all he wanted, up close, under the guise of 'making judgment'.

"It's fine," he answers with apparent disinterest.

Zoro walks past you and Nami. Sanji closely watches him, sounding out whether the swordsman has noticed him and whether he's willing to tell on the cook. Then, to his horror, Zoro glances over his shoulder, returning his attention to you. He looks you up and down, a little too slow to be considered innocent. Zoro licks his lips.

The swordsman turns again, meeting Sanji's seething stare. A mocking half-grin enters Zoro's face. He bumps his shoulder into the cook's as he goes past him. They don't exchange any words but their strife couldn't be more clear.

"If you think you can talk me into giving up on her, you're more of an idiot than I thought," Sanji retorts. He's willing to physically fight Zoro if things come down to that. Then, should the universe bless him, you'd take care of his wounds with your tender touch.

Zoro snorts. "I'm just sayin' there's no way she'd go for you. You smell like dishrags and salivate over any girl with a pulse."

Sanji takes the cigarette out of his mouth. He chuckles, both out of anger and disbelief. "If you spent as much time with women as you do staring at your swords, maybe you'd learn that brooding and vaguely threatening stares are hardly attractive, moss-head."

"You don't know anything about her, new guy," Zoro drones out. His low tone sounds like a warning.

The swordsman's irritation is like music to Sanji's ears. A mischievous smile appears on his face. "I've spent enough nights with her to know what she likes."

Roronoa slightly raises his eyebrows. Sanji almost believes that he surprised Zoro but the expression of the dark, brown eyes is nothing if not malicious. "So that's where she is when she's not warming my bed?"

A tense silence falls between them. They stare at each other like goaded bulls, ready to gore their horns through the other man. Their crescendo almost comes to a violent climax when something distracts both of them:

Nami and you burst into wholehearted laughter, tears streaming down your faces. Shouts of 'No way!' are cut into syllables by chuckles.

Both Sanji and Zoro let out a lovesick sigh. Immediately, they turn to glare at their rival. There, as silence remains between them and their hearts are filled with your laughter, the two men take up the rivalry, knowing that they're equally too stubborn to give up until either of them wins.

[cogentranting]

In The Marvels there's a vulnerability to Carol that we don't really get in her earlier appearances. There's a few glimpses of it in Captain Marvel, but not much, and it's certainly not visible in Endgame (not as a fault of that movie, she's just not very close to the center of that movie). But I find the exploration of that in this movie really appealing.

You have this woman who is incredibly capable, incredibly powerful, and generally very self-sufficient. And you see the way that over the years that's worn her down. She's the mighty Captain Marvel-- one of the most powerful people in the galaxy. And she's absorbed that view of herself, that that is who she needs to be all the time. She needs to carry it all, to fix it all.

As Captain Marvel that's meant that she works alone and she's always off to fix a new problem. More importantly, it led to her nearly disastrous decision to destroy the Supreme Intelligence, and from there to an inability to directly confront that failure (tactically or emotionally) or to accept help in fixing it.

As Carol, it's cut her off from anyone else except a few carefully distanced professional friendships-- she is friends with Fury, and Valkyrie, and Yan, but there's also a coolness there, and with all we're given the impression that she keeps them at arm's length and only comes around when necessary. And again its created an even bigger problem-- she stayed away from Maria until Maria was dying, and never came back to Monica at all.

It's never directly connected for us in the movie, but there's a pretty clear connection here back to the first movie. That careful distance wasn't present with Yon-Rogg. With him she was playful, open, she'd come to his room in the middle of the night. She trusted him. And she was utterly betrayed. He used her, trapped her, manipulated her, stole her life and her memories, tried to kill her. And back then, she only regained her identity when she broke free from him. That experience has made her wary.

But she's also just off-balance. Her memories were taken and she still hasn't fully gotten them back, so she's unsteady in those old relationships. And she's indestructible and powerful but it does her no good in dealing with actual relationships. She meets a problem that she can't punch or blast, and her flight instinct kicks in.

So when The Marvels starts out, those years of being alone and trying to be Atlas carrying the world on her back, have left her shaky. She's scared to talk to Monica. When she does come face to face with Monica, and Monica initially rejects her, Carol visibly shrinks. In dealing with Dar Benn, she's running scared--not scared of Dar Benn, but scared of failing again or messing things up more, and it makes her impulsive, and causes her to push away Monica and Kamala. And it's all a vulnerability that she covers up with cockiness and bravado. She doesn't show people that vulnerability. Instead she shows them the invincible Captain Marvel who can fly into suns and move planets.

And this movie uses the power-switching to handcuff her to two other people to force her out of that destructive pattern of total self-reliance and running from being close to anyone. It physically will not let her run away from Monica and Kamala, and it turns her attempts to do things by herself against her.

Kamala is there to model for Carol a sort of emotional openness that she hasn't known in a long time (if ever). Her heart is all the way out on her sleeve and Carol needs to see that. When Monica discusses her mom's death, Kamala literally shows Carol what to do on the simplest level by hugging Monica and forcing Carol into that hug. And it matters that Kamala is a child doing this, because that simplicity is key. Carol doesn't need to FIX the situation, and Kamala isn't burdened by that mindset. Kamala can approach with this childlike openness and simplicity, not overcomplicating it by trying to find the perfect thing to say or do, and it turns out that's all Carol needs to do too. And so simple hugs become incredibly powerful in this movie because it's just about being willing to be there with some and to hold them, and in the end Carol gives that back to Kamala when they hug after losing Monica.

And for her part, Monica models to Carol that you can be strong and part of a team. Monica has grown up and become a captain and become a superhero. She's incredibly capable. And also very very comfortable working as part of a team. So despite her tension with Carol, she's able to bring that easy team dynamic to the group and get Carol to embrace the team instead of being hampered by it.

Once Carol is able be at ease with being vulnerable, once she can open herself up to others, once she can share her burdens, that's when she finally is able to come home to Earth after nearly 40 years.

[yuri-is-online]

Love and Deepspace Timeline: MC, Philos, and the Aether Core

Look I finished Xav's myths card. I don't regret waiting until I was done with it to post his timeline because the last two nodes have more to do with MC than him, but I am in a state so we are making this to cope.

This is all speculation and should not be taken as fact, I have done two other posts, one on Zayne and one on Xavier and I will not be doing one on Rafayel please see this reddit post by u/joonmin for relevant information about his myths card blah blah blah.

This post is less of a timeline and more here to answer questions you very likely have if you: A) decided to browse reddit and saw people saying Xavier feels like the "cannon ro" [this is a gacha game there isn't one] but have never read any of his memories, moments, or dates B) read chapter 8 and went "none of this makes sense I feel like I am missing something" or C) just generally are confused about L&D's world building and what's up with MC. I have answers for you. Wibbly wobbly soupy answers. This post also has a TL;DR in case you don't want to see me break out the string board and just want the relevant bits of information about MC you won't get from the msq.

SPOILERS FOR ALL IN GAME CONTENT UP TO CHAPTER 8, VARIOUS MOMENTS, AND ANECDOTES RELATED TO ALL 3 ROS, PROCEED WITH CARE.

Current Timeline MC (i.e. The one we are playing as)

The game starts with MC's graduation from the Academy and first day as a fully licensed hunter. We learn a few things in this first chapter, namely that MC is combat trained, has a rare heart condition known as Protocore Syndrome that has no known cure, and that her decision to become a hunter has something to do with what she experienced fourteen years ago during the Catastrophe when the Deepspace Tunnel opened and Wanderers started invading earth.

Specifically MC describes something burrowing itself into her heart. She feels helpless, like prey, and has a strong desire to never feel anything like this again. Which is unfortunate because I have a feeling a lot of someones are going to be on her trail sooner rather than later.

In Chapter 5 it is revealed that MC has an Aether core fused to her heart. This sort of human experimentation is highly illegal and it is unknown who did this to MC other than our beloved Grandmother was directly involved. Grandma appears to have taken MC away from wherever this happened after the tests started to threaten MC's life.

This is known to Dr. Zayne and Dr. Noah, though neither seem to know more than what Grandma told them. Neither of them seem to fully understand what an Aether core is or what it is doing to MC's heart. Zayne in particular seems to find this extremely concerning.

Uncovering the mystery of the Aether core seems to be what will be driving the first arc so we will not be discussing it at length here. I do want to note that Xavier absolutely knows what it is, while Zayne does not but does seem to know more of the technical aspects of how it is effecting MC, and Rafayel is at least aware of it being valuable and maybe why exactly the people in the N109 Zone want it.

At some point in the past MC met and made a promise to Rafayel. It is my personal theory that this likely took place on Hat Island during the field trip MC talks about due to some of the comments made in Chapter 7.

MC and Caleb were friends with Zayne in childhood. MC's exact age is a bit fuzzy, but the game does seem to suggest she is younger than Zayne. She does not know why Zayne disappeared from her life or what led him to become a doctor.

Comments in Chapter 4 suggests that Caleb encouraged MC to become a hunter. He seems to be very supportive of her, but Grandma seems more interested in trusting MC's protection to Zayne.

On the surface MC seems pretty normal. Her memories from before the Catastrophe seem to be gone, if she had a mother and father or other blood relatives, she doesn't remember them anymore.

Philos MC (i.e. What is Going on in the Myths)

It is revealed in Xavier's When Shooting Stars Fall anecdote that Philos is Earth in the distant future. This has confused numerous people in the notes of my Xav's timeline so I am going to be insufferable and attempt to assist with a graph:

The MC you play belongs to the game timeline, the MCs (plural each myths card features a different one) in the Myths cards come from the Philos timeline. I have tagged the Game timeline as a "potential tangent" as the events that take place in game are entirely reliant on the existence of the Deepspace Tunnel, which is created in the Philos timeline.

At some point in the Original/Philos Timeline, Earth's core ceases to function. Humanity replaces it with a new, artificial core that causes noticeable weather changes and fuses all of the tectonic plates together, and begins a new calendar counting forward from the years since Earth ceased to be and Philos was born. As a result, we don't know what exact year Earth's core giving out happened in the Original Timeline. The artificial core allows almost all humans to "live eternal." They seem to be like Tolkien's elves in the sense they can live for an eternity but they start to get tired after a while and give up on life. This is why there is a royal family that needs a line of succession. Xavier is the Crown Prince of Philos, he meets MC in school and learns she has a rare disease called Protocore Syndrome which will not allow her to live forever. He attempts to cure this by finding a specific protocore she mentions, but fails to reach her in time and is forced to watch her die. This all happens in the year 214.

At some point MC is reborn and assigned to the same teacher as Xavier. She is to train to become his knight and serve as the leader of the Lightseekers, an order tasked with killing Wanderers. At some point during or before Xavier's coming of age ceremony, he learns the truth about Philos: the planet is dying due to the artificial core never having been meant to sustain the planet this long. The Royal Family's solution for this is to occasionally feed humans to the heart of Philos in Starfall Forest. When they do this, it creates Wanderers. As if that wasn't bad enough, Xavier learns that his father and the royal family have found what they think could be a permanent solution: there is a girl who has achieved true immortality. She is the only person on Philos who can die and be reborn constantly, and while they don't seem to know why she does this, the royal family believes this girl is the life force of the planet itself.

This girl is MC and Xavier does not want this to happen. He has a plan that he does not explain to MC, but it involves traveling back in time. He says they have specific places in time picked out, but we know from Xavier's Passing By anecdote that something went wrong with his team's attempt at time travel and now there is no guarantee that the MC he left on Philos as its Queen is still there.

So now we have two timelines: Original/Philos Timeline and Game/Tangent Timeline. But all of that is just taking Xavier's anecdotes and Myths card into account... so what happens if we try to plug in the other two ROs?

Rafayel

In u/Joonmin's reddit post they mention two very important bits of information: 1) It has been 30,000 years since the sea dried up and 2) MC is a member of the royal family of Philos, not by birth but because "she has a heart that’s been blessed by the gods" and has "awoken from the depths." If all three myths cards take place in the same Philos timeline as the one Xavier leaves, we can reasonably place Raf's myths card after Xavier's backtrack mission.

So the Philos timeline would look like this. I have a note for Zayne's card there as well, but if I had to get picky with it I'm slightly tempted to place his Myths card between MC's first death and her being reborn to meet Xavier again. The other explanation would be that there are three separate Philos timelines created because the MC was successfully scarified to the Heart of Philos. In Xavier's Myths 6 MC briefly takes a dip in the space time anomaly at the center of Starfall Forest which could also explain MC scattering across different timelines, but the in game spacepedia makes a point to say that there is a chance that life still exists on Philos:

So it could simply be that MC over there has been stuck in the exact cycle of death and rebirth that Xavier was trying to prevent. It could also mean that when they add that mystery fourth love interest there is an explanation for a fourth possible myths card. Anyway all this information leaves us with a set of timelines that currently look like this:

This still leaves a lot of unanswered questions. For example, if the Philos timeline is where this all starts, what version of it is? What caused Earth's core to give out in that original timeline? Is Rafayel and Lumeria's existence the consequences of clashing timelines or are mermaids cannon to this universe? What effect on the space time continuum did Xavier's actions have? And how much of this is actually going to be answered in game?

TL;DR

Philos is Earth in the future with an artificial core that started running out of power, and never should have been made in the first place.

The royal family fed some of their long lived humans to the anomaly in Starfall forest to keep the planet running, but then they found out about a girl who could constantly be reborn each time she died and had an idea.

An idea Xavier wasn't very keen on but who cares. They thought that "when the time was right" they would sacrifice her to the rift and leave her there to die and be reborn forever. They also did not think to ask her.

Oh yeah when they fed people to the rift they turned into Wanderers. So wanderers = people as mentioned in Zayne's Still in the Dark anecdote.

Whatever makes MC reincarnate might have something to do with Lumeria, or at the very least the Lumerians in Rafayel's myths card seem to think it does.

In game MC, current timeline MC knows none of this, and has no memories from her lives, past or future. This is consistent across all her incarnations.

Final Thoughts

The only reason why I think this way about timelines is because I watched Donnie Darko in a college theater class. People like to argue about that movie and how it is supposed to be interpreted, but generally speaking they all seem to think that Tangent Timelines and the Tangent Universes they spawn get deleted very quickly, so maybe that's why the game starts by talking about "being able to leave this loop" and why Xavier seems to think something bad will be happening to Linkon City soon.

Chapter 8 ends with Xavier attempting to send a message back through the Deepspace Tunnel to make contact with someone. Interestingly enough he calls this "Traceback II." This sounded familiar to me and sure enough the game starts by mentioning that exact same thing, it is going past a black hole and is what says that line "we are stuck in this loop."

I thought in previous posts that the Aether Core is what could cure MC... but now I think the Aether Core is likely what Philos's artificial core is called... so who created it in the first place? ｢(ﾟﾍﾟ)

The Deepspace Tunnel is a spacetime anomaly likely caused by Philos's existence since it was "never meant to exist." So why was it created? And by who?

[matchesarelit]

Imagine If You Will... (Ocean of Grass, Colin Bridgerton x f!Reader)

The Queen opens a new gallery space, and you can barely tear your eyes form the works on the walls, until art starts pouring from the lips by your side.

W/C: ~2.8k Warnings: None I believe A/N: there is a part where writing it was like patting myself on the back, so damn strange. fear not, I am not that up myself. but reader had to simp over smtg.

Stepping onto the marbled flooring of the gallery, you struggled to keep your concentration on the task of putting one foot in front of the other. Eyes locking on the pieces adorning the walls and topping the podiums. The words of greeting hitting your ears from all directions as you began trailing the walls of the space, were forgotten immediately, muscle memory replies rolling off your tongue with ease. The same old people and same old conversations were now framed by works of detail and grace grander than you'd ever had the pleasure of seeing.

The tickle of lace over your arm was the only thing to prompt you back to the world of the Ton, as an elbow hooked through your own and a head weighed down your shoulder. Vanessa, a close family friend, had taken her place by your side, as she often did, leaning into you and squeezing your arm in a silent greeting. Taking a moment you finished following the length of a brushstroke, before you tore your stare away and with a breath, that you held for perhaps a beat too long, looked towards your friend.

'Hello' The bland greeting was all your brain could hope to form at that moment. Your mind was shaken awake as the woman by your side responded simply with a suppressed squeak and a wide-eyed grin.

Her expression held within it a great amount of glee and undoubtedly a grand quantity of gossip, only being held back by the tight-pressed line of her lips, a sight that never failed to elicit a smile of your own. Raising your eyebrows slightly, you opened the floodgates and suddenly you found yourself much more knowledgeable about the events that had preceded your arrival. 

To the best of your understanding; One young lady had swooned at the revealing visage in one of the paintings, The queen had not yet made her appearance yet would most certainly do so soon and many of the mamas and papas had retired to the adjacent tea rooms which many had taken as a sign to converse freely. The latter explained the cacophony you registered now free of your stupor, but it certainly surprised you as you surveyed the room to find the group of your peers crowding a piece only a few meters away. 

'Are they discussing that work? Come, surely this will be interesting' You tugged your friend along as you started towards the trio, Vanessa and you discussed each of your hobbies with each other at length but rarely had the chance to discuss such matters with other members of the Ton.

'I don't believe they ar-' Vanessa's warning was cut short as you greeted the small group, not registering her concern in your excitement. 'Hello!'

Looking to the women closest who turned on the spot to see you, you watched with confusion as their smiles twisted into bitter replicas of kindness, each of them giving a nod to you, a small curtsey to the art and turning to walk away.

'Where are yo-' Your words trailed off, your eyes on the receding figures of the other debutantes, as Vanessa spoke up from beside you;

'Good afternoon Mr. Bridgerton, Mr. Bridgerton' From your peripherals you watched her curtsey, you followed suit before you had thought to comprehend why.

'Good afternoo- OH' Your realization wasn't loud, but it wasn't silent either, so truly you shouldn't have been as startled as you were when a pair of matching chuckles were heard from the men in front of you.

'We did not mean to interrupt, we were under the impre-' Vanessa was silenced as Colin Bridgerton shook his head slightly, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before he spoke up in a lilting tone; 

'No need to apologize. Who would we be to be upset with such beautiful company? We are truly a lucky pair of gentlemen.' 

A minuscule bow of your head and a flash of a smile that you refused to let within a mile of your eyes, crossed your expression before you were blinking your eyes into focus. Looking to the older Bridgerton with a gaping expression Vanessa had, long ago, coined as prized koi, you found your voice a moment too late.

'Amidst my travels-'

'Mr Bridgerton, You are an artist are you not? What are your thoughts on the collection thus far?' You had spoken at the same time and inadvertently cut off Colin. Your mind catching up with your mistake had you countering your question with a rushed apology to the man at your left; 'I am so sorry Mr. Bridgerton, please go on,' Looking up at him you matched the warm smile he sent you as best you could despite the heat in your cheeks.

'It is no problem at all, I was simply saying-'

This time it was Benedict who interrupted his brother with a waving hand of dismissal and a much too-happy-with-himself smirk, at which the younger simply scoffed.

'I am indeed, I was studying for a while but have found the natural approach to growing my abilities to be more fulfilling. I have found some of the pieces featuring the Welsh townships inexplicitly compelling, the detail and depth given to the cobblestones is startling.'  

'That sounds...' You began before pausing somewhat taken aback by the fullness of his answer.

'Compelling' you finished before shifting to the balls of your feet, peering back over the crowd to search the walls for the works Benedict spoke of. 

'And what of this one?' A new voice spoke from behind you, Viscount Edward Lowe had approached and looked to the piece that hung behind the Bridgerton men.

You felt Vanessa's arm slip from your own, as she met your eyes, tilting her head to the side, you nodded in return, assuring her you would be fine should she take her leave. 

'Mr Lowe' Benedict greeted, 'Grown a sudden interest in the arts have you?'

'Not so much as I have found in my betrothed.' Smiling to yourself at the glance the couple shared, you watched as Vanessa took his offered arm and stepped away from the three of you.

'They make a charming couple do they not?' You mused to seemingly no one, not waiting for the opinions of the brothers before shifting yourself to study to the work framed on the wall. 'I find the colouring of this one to be concerningly bland, as if the artist had naught but three hues on his palette and was unaware he could mix them.' Your words pulled a laugh from Benedict while Colin remained silent, 'I apologise if that was too cruel,' Looking towards the latter you found him shaking his head slightly as if to dismiss your apology, and still your eyes remained on his silent figure for a few moments longer even as his brother began to speak.

Benedict was fast to fill the silence, eyes trained on the artwork as he shifted to fill the space to your right,

'I agree, it makes the work come off hollow, as if he, himself felt disconnected from the scene he stood amongst, which if that is the case I would ask him why he desired to commit it to canvas.'

'Perhaps his intention was indeed to spur discourse over that distant feeling?' You mused, attempting to refrain from overly critical comments going forth. 'What do you think Mr Bridgerton?' As you addressed the younger of the two, you watched him glance towards the art, eyes roaming the surface with some obscure purpose.

'The- um, the reds are a strange choice for such trees that don't shed with the seasons' He was softspoken yet the charm of his tone was absent, a vulnerable air to his persona that was rare to see amidst Society. 

Nodding to yourself as you let your own eyes fall back upon the art, you attempted to consider the implications of such a choice. Benedict, on the other hand, seemed not similarly inclined as he started his assertion, 'The warm shades are a strange choice but I doubt it was a pensive decision. He seems unable to make use of any cooler tones. The brush strokes in that area, however, are not dissimilar to that of a toddler with their fingers dipped in mud. Pure chaos. So perhaps he aims to discuss the unpredictability of the natural world.' 

Colin's face was more unsure than ever, clearly out of his comfort zone and flanked by two enthusiasts was surely not the easiest position to be in.

'Perhaps the red of the trees work to add to that chaos Mr. Bridgerton, the artist certainly could have made them brown. Most trees do reach that colour as they die.' You had averted your eyes to the older of the pair, hoping to give the younger a moment to collect his confidence which, to all appearances, he managed, as within moments he spoke again.

'I-I also find the textures... quite... realistic' His voice was still low and somewhat unsure of himself, this was of course not helped by the immediate response, once again, of his brother nor the brow quirked in amusement that accompanied it.

'You find the flat orange expanse of grass, with no discernible brush strokes, accurate?' 

'Mr Bridgerton, if that is how your brother experiences the work is that not a testament to the nature of art itself as a concept that is entirely subjective' Your rebuttal, if it even counted as that, was weak and somewhat irrelevant, even so when Colin spoke next his voice was notedly more settled.

'It follows memories of mine of hills of grass in the wind, moving as the ocean does not as singular blades but as a fabric of silken thread.'

To say his words caught you off guard would be inadequate to describe the buzz and ache that filled your mind and chest at his observation. Everything aside from the artwork and his presence by your side fell from thought. Benedict's lips were moving, that much you were sure of, although that wasn't much of an accomplishment as even the man in the painting could surely hear his opinions.

Colin's words were still floating through your mind, drifting in and out, painting the picture within your head, the image, as clear as it was beautiful. He had set out the details so masterfully you doubted more than a select few painters could compete at rendering such a scene.

Looking up at the man by your side you watched as he rolled his eyes, exasperated as a bright blush crawled over the peaks of his cheekbones. You were startled when his observation fell on you once more, this time partnered with a touch of confusion as he glanced to his brother and back. 

'Are you quite alright?' You watched his lips form the words and still they took comparable years to reach your ears, not to mention the decade it took for you to splutter out a response.

'Oh, I'm quite alright, thank you Mr Bridgerton.' Shifting on your feet you glance to the art before settling your attention on the elder brother, hoping to remain grounded in conversation, 'Art has a way of consuming my attention, although usually, I can maintain focus on the discussion and not drift into thought'

A bright smile broke over Benedict's face in jest as he clasped a hand on the other man's shoulder, 'It seems we are boring her dear brother,' 

'Oh, I assure you that is not the case. You have both given me so much to consider I simply couldn't stop my mind from wandering.' Looking up to Colin you hoped he knew you spoke of his words, and as his eyes met yours you watched his signature smile bloom on his face.

Nonetheless, breathless, you spoke up again, 'I apologise for my rudeness.' His expression melted every ounce of tension in the air and like a windswept hill allowed you to breathe easy.

Keeping his gaze on yours he leaned closer, barely an inch, un-noticeable from afar but up close it was enough to have your breath catching in your chest as his lips parted in a whisper; 'Best to save that for the art hm?' His smile, was now a full-blown smirk as he straightened himself. You could swear his movement had stolen the heat from your skin as he retreated those measly few centimetres to stand back by your side, this time, however, he extended an arm for you to take.

'Shall we move on to the next one? I am eager to hear how you shall tear it apart-' the last second of his speech was cut short by the blaring trumpet that announced Her Majesty's arrival, 'We shall have to save that for later...' Your words, although a whisper, were stronger than you thought you could manage given the nerves plaguing your chest, and surprisingly, your composure was strong enough to allow yourself to retreat to the other side of the room. Stopping short of the wall you stopped, finding yourself alongside your friend and her husband-to-be, stationed by the refreshments... exactly what you needed.

The queen had not spoken for long, but the air in the room had grown hot, so aching for a breeze you stepped outside the moment her speech concluded. Walking clear of the tiled path that hugged the exterior of the gallery you landed amongst the grass of the gardens, traversing the plains your eyes hovered around the horizon, cloaked in statues, hedges, and shrubbery it trapped your attention. You charted the curves of green, trailing your hand against the leaves as you strolled, turn after turn until hedges eight feet high were all you could see.

The maze was not a difficult one to escape, you had surely only rounded a few corners, but the peace was difficult to pull yourself away from. It was simply you, the wind, the trees, and a single set of footfalls.

'Mr. Bridgerton' Startled yet relieved, you stepped to the middle of the path, away from the branches and towards the approaching figure as he rounded the turn. 'What are you doing out here?'

'Am I not to be?' His question was teasing and the smirk across his lips broke the charade of his concerned tone as he continued, 'In that case, you shouldn't be out here either...'

'I-I only meant-' your words were forced out through breaths that grew ever more shallow as he drew closer.

'Why am I here? That's what you meant isn't it?' Now, standing mere inches from you, his voice was quiet, barely audible above the rustle of the leaves and the whistle of the wind. 

'Yes, that's what I meant. Why are you out her-' Feeling small under his gaze you set your stare on somewhere through his chest, a far-off distance blocked by his being just as your question was halted by his voice,

'Guess.' 

'The wind is moving today, the grass, the trees, they do as you said. You came out to feel it for yourself?' The guess was the best you could produce that wasn't corrupted by the heaving of his chest and the depth of his voice. His lips parted though you beat him to it as you questioned him further, 'Why are you breathing so heavily?'

Reaching forward at a snail's pace you sought out his eyes only to find them affixed to your hand as it drifted nearer, 'Mr-'

'"Colin", please' his correction was soft as he inched forth, his chest leaning into the touch as he sighed at the contact.

'Colin, why?'

Encasing your hand within his own as he held it to his breast, he parted his lips once more, 'Listen to the trees, the branches, the leaves. They breathe as we do, as one. Like waves crashing upon the shore,' With a deep breath in his chest pressed into your fingers, 'before returning to the depths,' With a shaky sigh you found yourself emptying your lungs alongside the man in front of you.

Holding his eyes with your own you slipped your hand free, the flash of pain across his eyes faded instantly as you turned his wrist, pressing his palm to your skin.

'Waves crashing down on the sand' your voice is low yet resolute as you breathe in, Colin following suit, 'Before finding its way to the depths...' Raising yourself to your toes you press your lips to his. Releasing your breath, no sooner have your heels returned to the grass than his hand has found your waist and pulled you back to him.

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buck & Eddie: 7x4 and 7x5 stills in episode order???

When the two separate synopses were released for 7x4, I wondered how 9-1-1 was going to fit everything into the episode that was released via the BTS stills but then I realized they wouldn't be able to especially since the length of each one (without advertisements) is only 42 to 45 minutes. Also, it appears there will be three main storylines, i.e. Athena and Harry, Hen's life changing news and Buck being bothered and bewildered.

After considering all of the information that's been released, a few days ago, I figured the stills of Buck and Eddie in Buck’s loft, the ones of them talking in the firehouse gym and the one of Eddie and Bobby's conversation wouldn't be included in 7x4. Additionally, I remembered the way 3x5 "Rage" ended with Buck and Eddie still on the outs and they didn't reconcile until the end of 3x6 "Monsters" when Buck made Eddie talk to him. With OS recently commenting on someone's IG post about how the two pictures of Buck and Eddie in the loft are from 7x5, it added confirmation to my analysis.

Since I'm a visual person, I like to see things in their totality instead of in increments the way the BTS pics have been released. Therefore, I've put all the stills together in a way that IMO, could be how they'll play out during each episode and there's one picture of Buck by himself that was released but I believe it deals with something else. I've included it at the end because I'm going to do a separate post on it.

Before I delve into this, here's my UNPOPULAR OPINION. I ship Buddie and only Buddie but I have to admit, I'm not really excited about this storyline because IMO, the audience has seen it before in 3x5 and 3x6 when Eddie was temporarily partnered with Lena (post linked here). Sure, he didn't leave the 118 but Eddie did have a new work partner who Buck was clearly not happy about. Also, even though Eddie didn't tell Buck about her, it was evident by Buck's reaction, he was in fact jealous since he thought he was being replaced and it seemed to be part of the reason why he filed the lawsuit (not the only reason but part of it). Reminder, he was ok with being the Fire Marshall until he heard Lena call Eddie's name in 3x4 then once he saw her, he asked Bobby, "You replaced me?"

At this point, in six years, I hoped Buck and Eddie would be at a place in their partnership where they can actually discuss things like adults instead of Buck lashing out. Please don't misunderstand me because I get it, Buck's worried about being abandoned again so it's understandable and this time he doesn't have anyone to cling to. But if they would let him go back to therapy like he went on his own in season 4, maybe he could spend time working on himself and this storyline could have been avoided. Will I change my mind before Thursday... honestly, I'm not sure.

Back to the regularly schedule program...

7x4 "Buck, Bothered and Bewildered"

Based on the look on Buck's face in the stills from them at Air Rescue, IMO, it's likely this scene could happen first because he seems to be bothered and bewildered by how close Eddie and Tommy are. Hopefully there's a scene before this one that explains how they became fast friends but it's also possible it'll be another scenario where Eddie magically contacts Tommy or vice versa and they start hanging out but the audience won't see it the same way we didn't see how Eddie magically got M's phone number? 🤷🏽‍♀️

Full disclosure: I don't trust Tommy Kinard and I've already posted about my reasoning (linked here) and I may elaborate on it but I really don't want to because I'd rather not focus anymore of my attention on the character.

Buck's face in the stills below while he's at the firehouse, appear to be hopeful like he got his "Eddie" back but when he sees him walk away, he gets that sad look in his eyes like he's being left behind again. That's why IMO, it happens before the basketball court scene but after them being at Air Rescue.

I tried to put the pictures below in order but since there's no context for when some of them happen, I added them where I thought they should go. Also, since Buck's bag is still on his shoulder in the third picture with him holding the basketball, I figured it happens before they start playing. Maybe Chimney hands it to him and he looks at Eddie and Tommy like him and Chimney are going to win the game.

IMO, Buck will have a conversation with Maddie before the end of the episode and that's when JLH's leaked script will come into play. Also, I believe Chimney will be the one to tell Buck he's acting irrationally then he'll ask him if something else might be going on. Reminder, he's going to be on the court with them and he'll witness the event.

It appears 7x4 will end with them still upset with one another just like 3x5 ended with them not talking.

7x5 - "You don't know me"

I've already completed a post on the title of the episode (linked here) but I do believe multiple people will say, "You don't know me" throughout the episode, including Eddie possibly saying it to Tommy.

When the episode begins, Buck and Eddie still won't be communicating just like they weren't in 3x6. Also, since there aren't any stills that show Tommy and Eddie discussing an available job position at Air Rescue, the only information that was made available came from one of the promos that included Bobby telling Eddie, "I can't tell you how to feel about this job, only you can do that" so it appears Eddie's going to be presented with the option to leave the 118 again either at the end of 7x4 or the beginning of 7x5 but I think his conversation with Bobby will happen at the beginning of 7x5.

Now, ever since TM (showrunner) released the two pictures below in advance of season 7, they've always perplexed me and it's mainly due to the looks on their faces, more so Buck's because he doesn't look angry or frustrated, he just looks tired like he's retreating or giving up. Initially, I didn't speculate on the pictures because I had no idea what was going on and I'm still not sure but based on the things that have been released regarding the episodes, IMO, Buck will apologize just like he did in 3x6 followed by him telling Eddie that he'll have his back if he wants to leave the 118 and go to Air Rescue. Reminder, the last time Eddie left in 5x10, he told Buck in front of Hen and Ravi but the audience only caught a glimpse of Buck's reaction.

I believe the stills below will happen towards the end of the episode and it will be similar to their conversation that happened in the firehouse in 3x6 with a little bit of the 3x9 kitchen scene thrown in. My reasoning is because they're at Buck's loft and Buck will be sitting alone probably pondering what he should do next since it'll be a strong possibility (for him at least) that Eddie will leave and he'll have to find a new partner.

I think Eddie will say something similar to the things he said in 3x6, "I forgive you. Just don't let it happen again" but this time it'll be different and more along the lines of how they talked in 3x9 (related post linked here).

This is where their dynamic seems to change because unlike 3x9, Eddie's not leaned against the counter, he's actually touching Buck's shoulder and his waist the same way he did in 3x1 during Buck's surprise welcome back party but they're the only two present 👀.

When I saw the picture above, I had an immediate reaction to it because it reminded me of something the audience has seen before. I'm not going to include my thoughts on it in this post but I will do a separate one about it.

The point of this post is to illustrate with the BTS stills how the scenes in the next two episodes with Buck and Eddie could play out. Will they finally take the leap at the end of 7x5 and become a CANON couple or will the show continue to delay the inevitable? Only the showrunner, writers, producers, actors and actresses know the answer to that question. Hopefully, they will start their romantic relationship because it's been six years and there's no reason to keep delaying it.

[riofann]

Future Planning

Trigger Warning: Abortion, Pregnancy

“Yay daddy's home!”

“Yay” you say unenthusiastically, not wanting to have the conversation you planned on having with him. 

As Marcus gets out of the car and runs towards the door. You grab the groceries and follow inside. 

“Oh man, you let Y/N carry all the bags? I taught you better than that” Rio lightly scolds while reaching for them 

“It's okay” you say maneuvering around him and placing them on the counter

“I'm sorry, won't happen again” Marcus hugs you suddenly

“Apology accepted” you smile down at him rubbing his head 

Rio and Marcus spend some time catching up until Marcus retreats to his room to do homework, shower, and get ready for dinner.

“You good mama?” He asks noticing how distant you were being 

“Yes” you say smiling at him and returning to cut the potatoes, he was moving closer to you and you had yet to break the news to him 

“You look good….I missed you” he wraps his arms around you from behind and places a soft kiss on your neck 

“Thanks” you look down and your hands are slightly trembling. This could wait till after dinner you try to rationalize but it couldn't because he might have already noticed something was off. No greater time than the present just rip off the bandaid you coach yourself. 

“We need to talk!” you blurt out and step away from him 

“Okay” He hated those 4 words especially when they came from you. It meant you were unhappy about something he did or didn't do.

“What is it?”  He watches as you create space between you two standing on the other side of the counter. It must have been really bad you only do this when it's bad. And he is bracing for impact

Just say it like you practiced, you coach yourself “I'm pregnant” you say matter of factly. A smile immediately appears on his face. And he walks over to you but stops when you put your hand up. "But I don't think we are ready so I've scheduled an abortion for end of the week” there it was finally out in the open

He stops smiling. “What do you mean by 'we are not ready’”. He chuckles, “this a joke or something mama?”

You shake your head “No I'm telling the truth” 

He scoffs and a look of confusion takes over his face. While he points behind him he says “I got a whole son mama”  he begins walking closer 

You nod “Yes you do that doesn't mean we are ready for another child in our relationship. Marcus’s schedule is busy pick him up here drop him off there practice and games play dates he's a handful and I do not mind doing all those things let me just stress I love doing all of this for Marcus but having another child will just add a layer of complexity that I believe we are not ready for” 

He was now at arms length “Based off of what?” 

Your heart is racing trying to make sure you don’t say anything that would trigger a fight “Based off…” You pause 

“Based off of what Y/N?”  he knows what you're going to say

You look at him “Based on your availability with the many "projects" you are currently overseeing” 

He sucks his teeth “Y/N” 

“I just don't think now is the best time Christopher” 

“Don't I get a say in this?” he points to himself 

“That's why we are discussing now” 

“But you already made the decision off some bullshit!” you take a step back seeing his anger simmering right below the surface. You take in a deep breath and prepare for whatever else he had to say “I can adjust whenever necessary” he argues 

You nod “I understand what you're saying I just think th…” 

He interrupts “So really it's you that's not ready and projecting that shit onto me” 

“I'm not projecting it onto you, I said we.” You argue back 

“I'm ready so who's left between us in that we?” 

“Christopher..”  he sucks his teeth again “Remember we had this discussion we discussed goals short and long term, how our future would look together and individually, we even agreed that right now having a child isn't the best, we went over how it would slow down your plan for expansion and profits. We agreed that I ha…” 

He interrupts again you moving closer and speaks in a stern voice “Stop” he commands he puts his hand on your stomach “Stop talking about this like we are discussing business.”  he rubs his thumb back and forth “we are talking about my baby, our baby” 

“I know that Christopher. But in order for you to meet” 

“Stop!” His jaws clench in anger, 

You open your mouth but refrain from speaking seeing the anger in his face

“I'm okay with slowing down, I want us to have a child together, this one and many more with you Y/N ” he speaks with conviction 

“Christopher.. I just” 

“Stop. Let me finish.” he sighs  “I know what I said but shit life happens I just cut my time at work in half for a month cuz of Marcus don't act like I won't do it for you” 

You go to object “yea but…” you pause to find the right way to say what you were thinking. Marcus was his child. It was different. You’re an adult, you don't believe that would be extended to you at least not as long as he did for Marcus. Let alone 9 months 

And it all clicks for him it wasnt that you were having his kid it's that you feared going through this alone “You won't be alone. I know I'm guilty of pushing you to the back burner but I've been working on it and it shows right?” 

“Yes that's true but” you still weren't convinced 

“But what mama? What is it? Cuz I'm all in doctors appointments, morning sickness, swollen feet, achy back, 4am cravings, pregnancy pillow I’m all in, you won't go through it alone I'll be there” he tries reassuring you 

You really want to believe him but it's hard he hasn't had the best track record of keeping promises. 

 “I will think about it” is all you can think to say 

He huffs in frustration “what else is there to think about Y/N?” 

“Many things Christopher you act like having a baby won't change everything” 

“And I'm telling you I will be here with you” he counters 

“And I appreciate that I just need to think about some things”

“So fuck everything I said you've made the decision you just trying to get my buy in?”

“No I haven't”

He scoffs again “You already scheduled the appointment what else is needed from me but to hold your hand while you go through with this bullshit”

“I’m..” you pause feeling yourself getting emotional “It's not set in stone Christopher. You've given me a lot to think about and I just need to process it all”

“End of week is in 3 days Y/N. If you already called and made the appointment you not bout to back out now.” he pauses  “When did you make the appointment?” 

“Last week..... when I found out” you mumble 

He scoffs “You couldn't have waited to talk to me first? Why did you even tell me?”

“I wanted to get your opinion” 

“Why?” 

“Because I value your opinion…” 

“Can't be you booked the appointment without even hearing what I got to say. And then you come home to drop good and then this bullshit news all at once and nothing I'm saying is swaying your decision. So why put me through this shit?!” 

“I'm sorry Christopher I just didn't want you to discover later”

“Whatever Y/N do what the fuck you wanna do cuz clearly you're the only one that matters in this relationship” with that he walks away 

You both don't say anything else to each other, the tension hangs in the air as the days tick by getting closer to your appointment. You want to continue to talk about it, but you say nothing. You need more reassurance but you feel guilty by how you handled the situation. 

You both don't even acknowledge each other as Friday approaches. He wakes up early and leaves. You get dressed and go to work. The day is a blur and if anyone asked you can’t tell them what fires you put out or what you worked on. When evening approaches you pull into the driveway of Abuela’s (Mariana’s) home. It was a get-together for one of the kids birthday in the family. You were late and Rio had been telling everyone that you weren't feeling well so it was a surprise to see you walk in. 

“Y/N you're here!” Nick greets 

“Hey!” you greet as you step into the room you see Rio in your peripheral vision but refrain from making direct contact. 

You make your rounds and join the ladies in the backyard this time the men are in charge of cooking.

“So Y/N how are you?” Mariana asks

Your body tenses up you knew Rio went to her for advice from time to time

“I'm good just work you know” you smile trying to fake it

“Life's treating you well? Anything coming up?” 

You feel like vomiting

You shake your head “No just work” 

She gave you a look he had gone to her, you were positive. Well this was it the end of your relationship as you knew it. If she sided with him why would she want her grandson staying with such a woman. 

You refrain from saying much feeling like everyone knew and when you were pulled into conversation you kept your answers short and brief. When the dinner is ready some women plate the food themselves while others were served by their partners. You fixed your plate, you were nauseous and also you were doing all that you could to avoid Rio. You were glad this was a casual celebration so seating is open and you sit with your back to him purposefully and pretend to be involved in an ongoing conversation between his relatives sitting in a circle. 

Nick sits by you and once again you tense up. He always had something up his sleeve “You and Rio got into it or something?”  he asks 

You roll your eyes “No”  you did your best to avoid whatever strange push and pull relationship they had 

“He hasn't even given you a kiss, when we know he can't go more than 30 minutes without showing you affection.” you remain silent and smile picking the dessert on your plate “come onnnn” he eggs you on “you can tell me we’re family” 

“It’s nothing Nick!”  you smile. 

“Well I'm here if you need me” he winks at you before leaving 

You never trusted him. You couldn't, you  have seen and heard too many shady situations caused by him.  

His scent lingers and it makes you feel even more nauseous and you do your best to make your way to the bathroom without raising concern from the group.

You barely have time to lock the door behind you before you vomit into the toilet bowl. 

You try your best at keeping quiet so no dry heaving or heavy breathing just liquidized food making noise as it makes impact with the water. When you're done you quickly spray the air freshener clean around the toilet, swish in some mouthwash you see in the cabinet and hurry out of the bathroom. 

“Oomph I'm sorry!”   Rhea says as you noth run into each other 

“Im so sorry Rhea” 

“Its okay wasn't paying attention to where I was going” 

You chuckle nervously “Me too” 

She rubs your arm “You okay? You look pale” 

“Yea yea just tired” 

“Oh yea get some rest this weekend. Marcus, Sean, and I are going to Florida!"

“Yea thats right, I remember” 

“Yea it should be fun! let me give Ezra this book” You nod and watch as she walks away 

When you return to the gathering you make it a point to leave first. It was getting late and you were tired. Your body was starting to crash from the high stress week and day.

You say your goodbyes with Mariana being the last person you hug 

“Congratulations sweetie, can't wait to meet my grandbaby”  she whispers. You look back at her shocked. “A woman knows come see me sometime next week”

“Si abuela” 

“Good drive home safe” and with that she walks away from you 

You get in the car in a daze. How would she have known were you showing that much? You begin your journey home. As soon as you get close to your home you see Rio calling you.  

You don't know why but this creates immediate panic in you he wouldn't be calling you unless he found out you didn't go through with the abortion. He calls again and you veer right and take the exit towards the freeway you aren't going home not now you need to calm down and all the emotions hit you like a ton of bricks so much so you pull over in a gas station to calm down. 

You're able to gather yourself quickly and make a quick stop at the local grocery store to pick up comfort snacks.Your heart sinks to see Rio's G- Wagon in the driveway. You cringe looking at the amount of time he had called you and texted. God why couldn’t you get it together. You scold yourself 

As suspected he was in the kitchen eyeing your every move. 

“Ignoring me now?”  You don't even want to say anything, you don't want to cry anymore

“No sorry I didn't hear my phone’s on silent." He wasn’t willing to argue about that now there were more pressing matters to discuss. He watches as you put the groceries away waiting for you to say something. 

“Abuela congratulated me on our new bundle of joy.” he finally speaks, realizing you weren’t going to say a thing. 

You nod “yup same” 

“You told her?” 

“No” 

“So you didn’t….” 

You shake your head “Nope I did not. Canceled on Thursday” 

He bites back a smile seeing how tense you still were but failing miserably 

“Talk to me mama we are a team remember”

“Uh yea” You take in a deep breath “I'm sorry. I didn’t handle this the right way. I should have. I panicked, I shouldn't have, I should have called you instead I got carried away in my head. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. You matter to me your opinion matters. I thought I was making the right decision for us. I don’t want you to think I don’t care about you. I’m sorry Christopher”  

He nods smiling and placing his hands on your waist 

“Come here” he pulls you towards him but you tense up

You put your hands on his chest “Umm no I should go take a shower” worried that all you did was smell like vomit. 

“Nah that I wanna hold you and I want you to talk to me. Tell me what's bothering you. I'll be here for you all the way.”  The tears gather in your eyes threatening to roll down your face. “Tell me” He urges caressing your face

“What if I'm not a good mother?” you mumble

He pieces your words together “What if you’re..” he stops and looks at you confused “You’re so good with Marcus why would you think that?”

“Yea but he has you and Rhea, so if I mess up you guys are there to fix things. And I wanted to have an abortion how does that make me a good mother?” you wipe away the tears

“Shh” he shushes your worry wrapping his arms around you. You whimper feeling the migraine forming as tears roll down your eyes “Tranquilo mama”

“I’m a bad person” you comment

He chuckles “no you’re not, stop thinking that way”

“I am” you insist “What good person would do what I did?”

“Look at me” He tilts your head up 

You bit your lip and shook your head. Why did looking at him always make you cry more when you were upset?

“Please mama,” he begs. You do so and he sighs in relief “You’re not a bad person, a little crazy” he jokes “But you’re not a bad person you will be a great mother just like you have been to Marcus. I don’t want you to worry about this. I don’t want you stressing over this. I forgive you for how you handled this. I should have also understood where you were coming from so it's not all your fault okay?”  You nod “Nah I need to hear you say it”

“I’m sorry”

“You already apologized mama,” he chuckles “I forgive you  its not your fault, I need to hear you say it”

“It’s not my fault” 

He kisses your forehead and gives you a loving embrace and you two stand in silence for a while, his heartbeat calming you down. “How about I run a bath for both of us”

“Okay”

“Come on mama” 

“You know abuela just comes up to me and pinches my arm talkin’ ‘bout why didn’t I tell her you were pregnant” you giggle “that shit hurt�� he speaks while you relax on him in the tub

“Sorry, she told me congratulations when I was leaving. I thought you had told her”

“Nah, man that's crazy how did she find out?”

“She said to me a woman knows”

“Is this like some ET shit like y’all get with your period?”

You laugh “no I don’t know how. maybe it comes with age?”

He chuckles “Well whatever it is I’m glad we have her Blessing” 

“Yea” 

“You book an appointment to the doctor yet?”

“Mhmm” you nod “in 2 weeks”

He kisses your shoulder “I’ll be there” 

“Do you want a boy or a girl?”

“I want a healthy baby, but if I had to pick, I want a baby girl”

“And if its a boy?”

He shrugs “Love them the same but that's why we got all the time in the world. You and I can keep trying till I get my princessa.”

You chuckle “no im not about to keep pushing out babies till you get a girl”

He groans playfully “why not?”

“Besides, what if it's all girls?”

“Then we keep trying till we get another principe” 

“Christopher” you pinch his thigh

He laughs “Oww! I’m joking. I’m joking” 

A comfortable silence takes over and once the bath is done you both lay in bed in each others arms. “Can’t wait to see you waddle around the house” You groan making him chuckle “You’ll fill out real nice mama”

“And you ruined the moment”

He laughs “I love you” he says kissing you 

“I love you too.”

[billyshakesp]

The Seventh House Problem

This post isn't anything that hasn't been said before, but I still think about this, and so shall you, dearest reader.

The Seventh House is caught in a vivious cycle and I wanted to highlight how tragic the lives of the people there are. Their plight speak to me personally, since I've struggled a lot with body image, but I don't want to discuss that, at least not on Tumblr, and not at the moment (I'm okay. I'd be lying if I said I was doing well, but I'm doing okay.).

Though we don't know much about the Seventh, we know that the "perfect image of grace and beauty" on the Seventh is the image of a young person, sometimes barely into adulthood, dying of terminal cancer. That, in it of itself, is terrible, both for the people, and the rulers over Rhodes, who are born with terminal cancer. It's such a beautiful symbol for some of the ideas of beauty we have in our world. For the common people, the perceived grace of dying of cancer is something which many strive to achieve. And, because people not named Sex Pal can't simply give people horrific illness, they probably go to other lengths to get it. I have no idea what those lengths may be (I mean, my God, how does one fake almost death from sickness?), but they most definitely cause physical in mental health. In short, the Seventh promotes an unrealistic standard which causes people to get hurt.

That's terrible, don't get me wrong, but this dynamic becomes ten times more insidious at the level of the Dukes and Duchesses of Rhodes. They're born as the epitome of this beauty standard. Some of them may think that they are an image of absolute radiance, which probably causes them and others great distress. Imagine this: you're told from birth that the highest form of existence is to ret away in a hospital bed, writhing in agony, not even getting to see adulthood before you're gone. And the hideous cherry on top: you must either pass your genes on and doom your children to the same fate, or refuse to have an heir, and throw your house into political turmoil.

Imagine if your whole existence was dedicated being a symbol of constant, terminal suffering, and that being that symbol was your only purpose, the ultimate goal of your conception. And at the end of it, you are given the choice to say, Yes, my next generation will suffer as I did, or, No, my house will suffer as I did. And you're powerless to change any of it.

Lastly, I suppose I'd like to tie this into lived experience. I just want to say that the promotion of beauty standards is destructive in ways which are often unnoticed by those who are unaffected by them (eg, Jod, the Houses, etc). Don't hurt yourself in pursuit of a cosmetic goal. Tragically, we have to work toward a society where people don't judge by something so small as superficial appearance. Take care, stay safe everyone <3.

[kunikame]

# PURPLE LILACS !

[05] - perhaps he's into you ! | prev. | m. list | next

ace trappola x fem!reader smau

! warning(s) : cussing, miss-spellings in the tweets & texts, slight lilia lore spoilers, common jamil and azul behavior ("kys" used 2 times) ! w/c : 1k

when lilia vanrouge says he's coming over, he usually appears approximately 20 seconds after he warned you of his upcoming arrival, dressed in his dorm uniform.

tonight, however, your favorite fae-stie barely gives you a second to prepare before he appears in your room in a puff of green mist and his pink silky pajama set (yes, the one much like shaggy wore in the loch ness monster scooby-doo movie, just in pink). 

"what's up what's up what's uuup~!" he sing-songs, dropping down gracefully on the edge of your bed.

"hi, lils. cater?"

"on his way, do not fret. i brought some diasomnia snacks! and–"

"did you make them."

"no, he did not," said a monotone voice from somewhere. upon realizing it was not lilia who spoke, you turn toward the source, only to see malleus draconia (alias hornton) in the flesh, causing you to very nearly die of a heart attack.

okay, you might be over exaggerating. a little.

"--and malleus, i hope you don't mind. he wanted to join 'girls' night," the musician grins.

“nah, he’s welcome to join any time, i’m just not quite sure he’ll find it entertaining,” you say as you turn to look at the raven haired fae, “make yourself at home, hornton. i’ll go get the drinks and wait for cay.”

you spot grim playing with the resident ghosts in the living room area on your way to the (severely run down) kitchen. before you can even fully step into the room, you hear a few light knocks on the door and take a sharp turn towards the entrance instead. what greets you there is a heavily shaking individual known as cater diamond dressed in only his pajamas, carrying some baked goods (courtesy to trey) and his phone.

“w-what’s up what-’s up what’s u-u-uup?!”

a beat of silence passes and you momentarily consider just shutting the door in his face because how and why the fuck are riddle rosehearts and deuce spade also here. you can handle malleus, he’s much like a pet rock, but riddle in the same room with lilia and cater? you think your hair might start graying a bit early.

“riddle and deuce! what are you guys doing here?” you step aside to let them in with a strained smile only to glare daggers at your good friend behind their backs.

“cater insisted i come along and ‘hang out’ with ‘the girls’ for a bit. he said i need to mingle with people my age more to be able to keep up with the trends, or something along those lines, i believe. i don’t see a purpose behind me being here however, so i can take my leave if you’d rather keep it to a close circle discussion– i can’t leave trey to watch over the entire dorm either, i am housewarden, after all.”

“i got pulled along against my will.”

the drastic difference in their response, reasoning and length struck you like lightning for a mere second, “oh– uh, no, don’t worry, you’re all good, riddle. you can stay if you wish to! i won’t keep you against your will though. same goes for you, deuce. you just have to promise whatever you hear tonight stays between us.”

“not to worry, the queen of hearts rule number 14 states that secrets must stay between included parties. may the queen strike me down herself lest i break a rule.”

“anywayy~ after all this chitter chatter cay-cays’s gotten hungryyy and treys’ home-baked tarts are directly under my nose! it would be a crime to not eat them! shoo-shoo, up we go!"

a couple hours have passed since the guys arrival, and everything's been going well so far. it was quite a shock for the heartslabyul trio to find the malleus draconia here at first as well, but they’ve slowly warmed up to him and began to consider him as ‘one of the girls’. the conversation’s been flowing well and the night was filled with shared laughs and stories.

you were just finishing up recounting the recent happenings with ace to fill everyone in on the details when malleus spoke.

“i believe he might just be.. ‘into you’, was it?” he turned to lilia for confirmation, who nodded abruptly. “that’s what i’m saying! the little bat just won’t believe me,” he said, leaning onto cater (who nods along in agreement while patting his bandmate) dramatically, as if you not believing his nonsense caused him a fatal wound. so much for being a war general, this guy is a drama general at best.

“lils, he hates me.”

“enemies to lovers, i say! enemi–”

“on the contrary, i think he quite likes you, actually,” the redheaded housewarden speaks up from the corner he’s sat in, “you’re almost all he talks about recently.”

“oh, you’re right! i asked him about our alchemy homework last week and he found some way to bring you up, even in that conversation. ‘i wonder if [name]’s done it yet? should we ask? i hope she’s not struggling with her studies. perhaps we could help her out’ like, shut up,” said deuce, popping some candy in his mouth with a clearly annoyed look in his eyes. if you didn’t know him any better, you’d think he was jealous of his friend.

that forced you to stop and think for a moment. if it were anyone else (a picture of lilia and cater appears in your minds eye and you have to fight back a smile) saying it, you probably wouldn’t have paid it much mind, but if it’s the people closest to him, then perhaps there’s some truth behind the seemingly empty words?

“i have an idea, if i may,” all eyes turn to malleus (who.. you forgot was even here, with how quiet he was the entire time), eyebrows raised in question, “if you’re so unsure of his intentions and feelings, why not test them?”

the 2 light music club members eyes lit up at that and you felt an impending sense of doom.

and that’s how you found yourself dancing with deuce, then malleus, then riddle, then... all of them, for some reason? it was awkward initially, but the longer it went on the more fun it was, and perhaps you could say this was one of your best nights spent in twisted wonderland.

being erased from your own world be damned.

## ❝ after the events of the phantom bride wedding, ace started wondering whether he still had the ability to charm girls. he hasn’t thought about anyone romantically in years, hasn’t really flirted with anyone either, what if he’s gone out of it? perhaps it’s time to put his talents to the test; with the person who hates him most, no less. if he can charm her, he can charm anyone. ❞

#TAGLIST ! : @solxima @gabirii @lunavixia @y2unagiz @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @borlining @verity-moon @myunghology @doughnuts-eater @lifeless-bug @babygurlenthusiast @shirishere @xopeach @stormyovent0aster @bontensbabygirl @ars-tral @wrathy-mcwrathface @sinofthesloth @skeet-2 @everettelz @sakuram1nt @shatiyuh @ambigrueity // ask/comment to be added/removed! (if you're in bold i can't tag you)

[smellss]

Close quarters

Summary: Never has sharing a bed been so difficult

Warning: australian colloquialism/phrases (swearing soz not soz) and unedited uni is killing me :)

A long long night for the Matilda's, a wonderful game, the longest penalty shoot out in World Cup history. Y/n had never felt so proud to be alongside these women. Well most of them anyways, her feelings towards her Captain still remained unsolved.

Never had a single person frustrated her in her whole life, of course she respected her she's Sam Kerr for god sakes she had to. But that arrogance god, it frustrated her to no means.

Her smirk, her flirty winks and that tongue.

Wait what ew not like that

The way she smugly stuck it out after her goals, it made it her feel something.

Yes how exactly did it make me feel.

That's what Y/n was trying to discover using her vodka and soda as an accomplice on her journey. However, it was still World Cup and she couldn't get too crazy, just one celebratory drink.

Sitting with Hailey at the bar they discussed the game at length her other team mates surrounded around the pool table taking turns with one another. A new tactic of cool down their coaches had suggested as a bonding exercise.

Y/n felt a gaze on her from across the room but when she turned they were gone.

"You alright chicky?" Haley brushed her arm, a concerned frown rippling across her forehead. Y/n smiled at the term of endearment vigorously nodding.

"Just tired that's all, I might head up to the rooms" she yawned, finishing the last sip of her drink. However, just as she stood up two hotel staff came into the bar area.

"Ladies we have an unfortunate announcement to make, due to a leak in our pipe system a few of the rooms we had set aside for you have been damaged by water. Not to worry however, all of your belongings were fine" A few groans, moans and sighs were heard around the room.

"Not to worry girls, we have assigned you roommates to share with based off your positions, a bonding exercise if you will" Your coach chuckled slightly.

Perfect I'll be assigned with Hailey

"Arnold and Kennedy" both woman laughed like 13 year olds sharing a room at camp, walking off to their room.

I cannot believe I am getting an assigned room at 27

"L/N, Kerr is coming to join you" Y/n swear she felt her heart fall out of her arse. She looked over at Kerr who had a mischievous glint in her eye, saluting at her coach with that signature cheeky smile.

You both walked out of the room in silence, Hailey giving you a reassuring smile and thumbs up.

I really hope I can fall asleep quickly

Y/n heard a knock on the door she quickly rushed over opening it hastily.

"Hey roomie" Sam slightly slurred obviously not obeying the one celebratory drink rule, she glided past Y/n, taking in her room and belongings. Spending a long time looking at Y/n's photos she'd brought from home.

"Are these your siblings?" Sam half smiled, glazing over the photo she held it up towards the light.

"Yes, my brother and sister" Y/n stated proudly, extremely grateful of her wonderful supportive family.

Y/n noticed a change in Sam's demeanour once she saw the photo of her and Hailey at the season wrap up party last year. Sam's brow now furrowed as she walked away placing her things down.

Finally she turned around and faced Y/n, drinking in her appearance and forming a very large smile.

"Cute pjs L/n" Y/n quickly flushed a bright shade of red completely forgetting she was in her big Chelsea shirt and matching sweats.

"They were a gift actually, besides I don't know if you can be giving me much heat in those" Y/n quickly retaliated eyeing Sam's kangaroo and koala pj set. She gasped placing a hand on her chest pretending to be offended.

"Well I usually sleep in boxers and no shirt but I thought we'd keep it PG for our first sleep over" She winked, Y/n turning a shade of red she didn't even know was possible.

Both girls turned to face the bed, the one king mattress quickly becoming the elephant in the room.

"Ill take the couch" they both said in unison.

"You were on field longer tonight you deserve the rest more" Sam argued to the best of her slightly intoxicated abilities.

"You're team captain and recovering from injury you're taking it" Y/n retaliated

Sam shook her head, "Lets just share we are teammates, its just fucking bed".

She slipped in the bed switching her beside lamp off, a yawn escaping her she closed her eyes. Y/n stood their hesistantly.

"Y/n come on, I don't bite" The girl sighed slowly sliding in to their shared bed, turning off her bedside lamp, with now only having the light glow of Brisbane CBD shining through their windows.

Y/n could feel her heart beating in her ears.

The silence of the room was killing her.

Everything was so still.

It was as if time was frozen.

Why is this affecting me so much God, just go to sleep Y/n

The only source of comfort to Y/n was the feeling of Sam also tossing and turning, until she stopped facing Y/n's back.

"Psst, Y/n are you awake still?" Sam whispered

Both girls turned now facing one another. Sam feeling y/n's breath softly in hale and exhale.

"Yes Kerr what is it?"

"I just wanted to know...how long have you and Russo been together?" Sam hesitated, her breath tightly in her throat waiting for the response.

"What?" Y/n laughed tears nearly forming in her eyes, "Sam we are not together just very good friends"

"Oh,oh but you must have someone back home" The captain pried more.

"Nope just me" Y/n whispered, Sam's eye intently staring over her face trying to read her expression.

The room was hot, Y/n had never felt so tense she felt like she was melting. She suddenly felt a hand on her cheek, a thumb brushed over eye an eyelash stuck on Sam's thumb.

"Make a wish" Sam whispered, holding out her thumb. Y/n blew it away, Sam's hand now back on her cheek.

"Please don't kill me for this" Sam gently moving y/n's face towards hers.

Their lips slowly interlocking, the warmth flowed through Y/n like nothing ever had before. It felt like her body had finally switched on and every nerve had been sent into overdrive.

Sam's lips sweetly tasting like her strawberry chapstick and minty toothpaste. Sam smiled into the kiss breaking it apart.

"You've had no idea how long I wanted to do that for" Sam smiled stroking Y/n's hair.

I think I know what the feeling is now.

"Oh I might have some idea" she challenged back.

EXTRA:

"Macca I swear to god if you ruin this I'm going to fuck you up" Alannah whisper yelled

"One more shot" Mackenzie hushed leaning over the bed

The girls of course knew this was going to happen and were prepared rightfully so to document the occasion.

Both Y/n and their captain were entangled in one another looking as content as could possibly be.

"Mary you owe me that $15 babe" Hailey grinned

"No way", Mary scoffed hushing everyone out the door "I said August you owe me $40".

"Still worth it" Hailey smiled looking one more time at the couple before leaving them in peace.

[weaveandwood]

In Hushed Whispers

There was a little interest in me posting some Dragon Age: Inquisition fanfic here, so I'm going to share the one shot I have written! I know I have a few mutuals who are also doing their first playthrough of Inquisition, so if you haven't done the quest this one-shot is named for, don't read this! Consider this your warning!

Pairing: Cullen/Female Lavellan (Brinni, my dual wielding rogue) Words: 1,374

Angst

Read on AO3!

Cullen threw the crumpled up message across the room and leaned over the war table, shaking his head, willing himself to take his next breath even as dread constricted every fiber of his being. 

Dead. 

He slammed his fist against the table, toppling over the markers that had been so carefully placed earlier that day. He told her it was a trap - he told them all! She wasn’t an idiot, she knew it was clearly a trap as well. Still, she was determined - and that determination had doomed them all.  

He paced the length of the room. Back and forth, over and over, replaying their last conversation in his head, trying to figure out what he could have said differently. 

“Redcliffe has repelled thousands of assaults. If you go in there you’ll die, and we’ll lose the only means we have of closing these rifts. I won’t allow it,” he had told her. Of course, there was the unspoken reason he hadn’t wanted her to go, one he was too foolish and too scared to voice. No, better to have her believe he only saw her as a tool, a weapon for them to wield. Nothing more. 

Cassandra, Josephine, and Leliana argued the optics of marching on the castle, the consequences of leaving a foreign magister in power on Ferelden land. It appeared they had been outplayed. No matter how hard Cullen stared at the table, a strategy would not come to him. 

“There has to be something we’re not thinking of,” she had said quietly, finally breaking the silence and looking at each of them. “Another way in.”

Discussions took place. Brinni paced back and forth while Leliana and Cassandra spoke of the secret entrance for the family and planned the “distraction” Brinni and her envoy would be for the magister. Someone suddenly barged into the war room with insider knowledge of the magister’s plans - Brinni seemed to trust him and his easy confidence, so everyone else did as well. 

It was settled. They would leave first thing in the morning. 

 “The plan puts you in the most danger - we can still go after the Templars if you’d rather not play the bait. It’s up to you,” he said to her before parting, his cool demeanor soothing over the storm within. Don’t go. It’s a trap. You will die. 

She went. So did Blackwall (prisoner), Varric (prisoner), and the new mage, Dorian (dead). 

Dead. 

If he had just talked to her, told her how important she was - not just to the Inquisition, but to everyone in their inner circle even after this short amount of time, how he looked forward to reading her messages from her seemingly never-ending duties in the Hinterlands, how their conversations while he was overseeing the training exercises were the best sort of distraction…

He sighed. She still would have gone. Still would have died. 

He walked out of the building, staring at the breach in the sky. What were they going to do now? 

Months passed. It was almost a year to the day since the Inquisition lost their one hope at closing the Breach. Cullen had been right about Redcliffe. He threw troops at it, but they were no match for The Elder One’s demon army. Thedas was gone - everything was covered in red lyrium. Leliana had been captured on a spy mission months ago. Cassandra and Iron Bull led a charge soon after the news of Brinni’s death reached Haven with the rest of her companions - they never returned. Josephine tried her hand at diplomacy and was caught by a demon possessing a nobleman. 

Dead, dead, dead. 

Only a handful of troops remained. Templars, warriors, and even a few elves had traveled to Haven after everything really started going south about a month after…after her death. They fought for the fallen Herald of Andraste. He fought for her. Brinni Lavellan. He still found his thoughts easily drifting to her. He did a double take every time he saw an elf with short white hair the color of starlight. He missed her, even now. Even as he mounted his favorite horse outside of Redcliffe Village, ready to lead one last charge against the castle. One last attempt at saving the world, though it was certain they would all end up the same as everyone else who had tried.

Would he see her once this was over? He mulled the thought over as they marched on the castle through fields of red lyrium, the power surrounding it warm and intoxicating. He saw corpses with crystals growing out of them and shuddered. What world was left to save? They got to the bridge and he dismounted, taking all of the riding gear off of his horse. He dropped it to the ground before slapping the horse’s hindquarters, sending it off to live whatever life it could manage. There would be no one left to care for it after today and he could not bring himself to watch the horse die in battle. He smiled to himself. “The Commander has a soft spot” - she had teased him about that once in the stables, long ago.

A horrible grinding noise brought his attention back to the present, the telltale sound of the demons that had laid waste to the land and the people of Thedas. This was it. He raised his sword, rallying the small troop behind him and charged. 

They fought as well as they could, taking down a few demons while the demons took down more of them. He watched as they fought and fell, their numbers shrinking further and further until only a true handful were left, each fighting their own hopeless battle. A cry, a thud. Dead. A shout, a demonic laugh. Dead. 

“Sir, behind yo-” someone called out, seconds too late. Cullen started to turn, his sword preparing to strike when he felt a sharp pain in his chest, followed by searing heat and frigid cold seeping through his body. He fell to the ground, looking up at the roiling green-grey sky and tried unsuccessfully to remember what it looked like on a clear, blue, cloudless day before magic destroyed everything. He was lying in something warm and wet and he was tired, so tired. His eyes fluttered and the world grew dim. The cries of battle were quiet now and the grinding noise from the demons drifted further from his consciousness. 

It was over. 

“Sir? Sir? A message from Redcliffe,” a voice called from outside the door of his office, accompanied by urgent knocks. 

Cullen startled and sat up. Had he been sleeping at his desk? The long nights and early mornings had caught up with him, it appeared - he would need to keep a better schedule. He cleared his throat, calling for the messenger to enter and took the small envelope from him. 

He quickly ripped it open to read the missive from Brinni’s operation, his eyes scanning desperately for a key word to indicate how the mission went. He quickly crumpled it up and threw it across the room to prevent himself from spending all day reading it over and over again before leaning over his desk, his head in his hands. 

Mission successful. Recruited mages as allies. Will explain when we return. - B

She was fine. She didn’t die, she wasn’t taken prisoner, and she had recruited the mages as allies for the Inquisition. Once again, she exceeded his expectations. He leaned back in his chair, his face to the ceiling and laughed loudly, the cord of tension within him that had been wound so tightly since they left finally loosening. Was the tension he had been harboring solely due to the fate of their Inquisition? They would be able to continue closing Fade Rifts and perhaps close the Breach with the assistance of the recruited mages. Or…was it something that was beginning to take hold inside him, gentle and warm, just like the way she smiled at him during her rounds the other day when she found him in the stables, brushing his favorite horse’s mane and talking sweetly to it? “The Commander has a soft spot,” she had teased him. 

It appeared that the Commander may have had more than one.

[willowed-wisp]

HER KNIGHT, HIS HEART - part five

previous | next

Ser Harwin Strong x female!OC/x reader

WARNINGS: mentions of injury, slight mentions of non-con, smut

She had been on bed rest for the past four days for her foot. But she knew rumours swirled around in Court, questioning her legitimacy; like she always had.

Elspeth had never felt like a Hightower, nor the Florent on her mother’s side. Many had said she had ‘dragon blood’ in her veins. The grey hairs appearing- blonde, and she had the ability to bond with a dragon.

Bed rest could wait, she shimmied haphazardly into gown, hair a bushy mess- not that she cared. The pain was short and sweet with every step on that right foot. Harder to ignore, walking on slithers of glass for the woman. But she made it outside of the Hand's quarters. "Lady Elspeth, you should be in bed."

"Ser Steffon, I have business to discuss with my Lord father." The familiar Kingsguard from House Darklyn smiled.

"Are you ever going to listen to your peers, child?" A step forward from the girl, a wince not-so-hidden behind her grit and determination.

A devilish smirk on her own lips, "Not in this lifetime."

Breaching the doors, Otto Hightower looked up at her. Not surprised. "You're going to make yourself more ill," He was signing some documents for the Crown, as she limped over to the nearest chair. Small circlets of blood dragged across the stone floor.

"Have you always known that I wasn't your daughter?" A crunch, his fingers painted in ink- she presumed the papers he had been working on resembled it. A glooming echo written on his face- free of all colour. "Is that why you've always treated me with such indifference?"

Eyes that of a ghost, "You don't make it easy, child." She studied the sorrow in his eyes, the thinning of his lips while he wiped his hands. She bubbled with frustration- she had been lied to her entire life. "You should go back to your chambers. Get some rest."

"Is it true! Am I a bastard?" Nails grating into the green fabric upholstering the chair arm. Elspeth felt her cheeks were rosy.

The Lord Hand stood, taking a seat on the identical chair adjacent from her. Watching the tears flood her eyes, "It is complex. We assumed nothing came from the attack-"

"Attack...?" She knew the meaning of it all, head in her free hand. Rendered speechless.

The stern expression of Otto's face softened, "You had always been your mother's double, but you were born with white hair that faded to the colour of the Florent's," a sigh passed his lips, "Then those blonde hairs started taking root and so did your temper. Not even your mother possessed such a fury. His Grace began to comment how you were 'dragon blooded'... and the Prince started taking an interest in you." Her eyes wavered, body shaking. "We knew you couldn’t deal with the truth at such a young age. Alyrie meant to tell you when you came of age but..."

Elspeth felt disgusted by herself. Even the urge to scrub herself clean wouldn’t draw an end to it. Alyrie Hightower had been a strong woman but Elspeth didn’t know how much might she actually had. The woman wished that it had been coming out of her mother’s mouth not her father’s.

“Who was it?”

She had received the answer- and returned to her chambers with the escort of Ser Darklyn. Farewells brief before she was found in her lonesome. A knock at the door made the girl jump, “Enter,” She saw long curled hair- heart skipping before realising it was in fact her knight’s Lord father. “Ser Lyonel, I’m glad to see you are well.”

A small smile, “As do you, Elspeth. Harwin would have followed you to the Seven heavens,” perched on the edge of her bed- feet not touching the ground due to pain.

The woman confused, “I’m not quite sure what you mean, my Lord.”

Ser Lyonel stepped a bit closer- still a good length away, “When I told him the news that you were missing after the plunge… that boy was distraught… he would have journeyed to the Seven to barter for your life. He’s taken by you,” Her heart swelled, but did not deter that grimy taste in her mouth. Her father’s news outweighing Harwin’s devotion. “But that is not what I’m here to discuss. It’s about the Prince’s attempt on your life…”

“I would be elated to say Prince Daemon pushed me, but it was simply an accident. The barriers on the bridge were too short,” Frustration was her undertone but solemnity ran riot. “Is there anything else you’d like to enquire?”

A shake of his head, “No. Thank you for your time, my Lady.” Almost if he wished for the answer to vindicate the rogue Prince who had since returned to Kings Landing.

Ser Lyonel took his leave.

A knock at the door, “Did you forget something, Lord Strong?” Curly hair- but this time it was her knight.

Ser Harwin Strong.

It should comfort her knowing they were alone. But all she felt was shame for a reason she played no part in. Yet she wondered what her mother thought of her everyday… being a constant reminder.

“I’m impressed, my Lady. You can’t see through walls as well as fly dragons, right? Or have I underestimated your talents?” She wanted to smile, quip a witty remark… but she couldn’t find the strength to. Even when his lips were contorted in that charming smile- mischievous at its core.

The words escaped before she could think, "We can't be wed."

His smile didn't falter, "We can set back the ceremony, if that's what you wish," Her hand safe in his, "I'd wait a thousand lifetimes as long as I can call you mine." He had nearly lost her once, never again.

She stared blankly- tears prickled in her gaze. Standing- leaving him sat on the bed. Blinded to the pain in her leg- not that of the heart. Elspeth couldn't be so close to him... that aura of his was too pure of heart. The woman couldn't imagine marrying another beside her knight and she would rather let him go than him leave her upon hearing the murmurs around Court.

Clearing her throat- her own hands bracing the linen at her waist, "You can't marry me..." Unable to maintain that composure. It had been a tasking week of trials and tribulations. The broad man stood before her once again. Elspeth couldn't get enough of him- his scent. Like a sea salt breeze lamented with the warmth of a hearth.

The tears let loose- his hand hooked under her jaw, "Elspeth. Talk to me. Please." He could weather a war campaign, a fully grown bear on the hunt but his woman in tears left him feeling helpless. Bluebell eyes tore down her layers of disgust, anguish and solidarity all the while her walls crumbled.

As she did to the floor- shaking in his arms. His feelings at the mercy of the Seven- dictated by the woman cradled in his arms, "You are the woman I love, no false rumours at court would ever change that." Her fingernails were chipped and broken from her ordeals and finger picking - not as barbaric as Alicent's habits.

She wanted to break free from his loving embrace, but she possessed neither the strength nor the ambition, "They're not false," Bloodshot, electric green looking his way. His stare unreadable, other than the infatuation, "I am not Otto Hightower's daughter. My mother was attacked, then she was with babe. I am a bastard, Harwin. Save yourself embarrassment and leave me-" Cut off by a crushing, open-mouthed kiss. Unable to restrain herself, she reciprocated. Hands gunning straight for that mane of brown, while his remained at her jaw.

Propped up by the other's forehead after breaking away, "You hold my heart in your hands," Blue visible in shadow- every word had hot breath brush against her lips, "And, I would not care if you were part of the smallfolk... it's not your namesake I can't keep my eyes off, it's you. It's always been you, Elspeth. The woman- when she was seven-and-ten revealed herself to be the best damned archer in the Seven Kingdoms - who claimed a stag and a boar that hunt," She had to admit, she was a great shot. And, she adored the man afront her.

She remained speechless, "Nothing I can say will do you justice." A kiss to her forehead, as they stood up. His warmth remained, as did the scent of the sea. "In a fortnight you will have the name Strong,"

"Can't we just get it out of the way..." His smirk restless, contorting her own.

He looked down at her, "What do you have in mind, Lady Strong? This week?"

"Today."

They sent word to their nearest and dearest. Harwin's were sent to the weirwood tree, while Elspeth's sent to her chambers. That included Otto Hightower- with a unique request. He arrived with a bundle of white fabric, Rhaenyra and Alicent at her side. "Thank you, father."

He gave a nod, "I will go to the weirwood tree," She flinched when he kissed her on the forehead- the girls either side of her shocked, "Your mother is looking down unto you- smiling. Proud of you, as am I." He left, leaving her feel warm inside. Maybe he did have his redeeming qualities.

She brushed it off, looking at the dress. "Stop staring at it, and put it on." The girls assisted her, she decided against wearing the sling. Relying on the hardened splints to protect and heal. It made it easier with the long sleeves. Done up, it fit like a glove. Gasps from Alicent more so than Rhaenyra. That was because of the gown and what it meant to both of the Hightower girls.

Their mother's wedding dress. Long, flowing material- probably silk, with ornate gold lace along the bodice, otherwise pure white. A modest neckline, not a design she would have gone for but she remembered what her mother told her.

'My parents had such bland tastes, if I had any say- it would have been up to my neck and sleeveless. But traditions are difficult to break.'

Elspeth inherited those tastes but she looked the vision of her mother. A portrait had been crafted at Alyrie Florent's wedding to Otto Hightower, and she was a mirror image of the woman. She saved her tears, but Alicent could not. The woman opened her left arm, "Come here."

Bringing her younger sister into her arms, "You're truly the image of our mother," the waterworks readying as Alicent spoke those words. It warmed her heart as she felt a kiss to her temple. But Rhaenyra was sat on the bed- a few feet away from the woman.

The woman leaned down, whispering, "You don't have to keep seeing the king... you don't have to play in this twisted game. You are too young, too bright and too nice to be linked that throne. I'll stand by whatever you do, sister." She held the younger's hand, a breath came from her. Rhaenyra had not heard. "Alright, I have a wedding to attend."

The trio laughed as they walked around the castle, working their way down to the weirwood tree. The giggle and chatter dampened as she saw Harwin stood beside the Septon they brought from Kings Landing to officiate. They were stood at the very roots of the weirwood, surrounded by a few; Ser Lyonel, Larys Strong and Otto Hightower. On the other side, Elspeth choked. Seeing her mother, as she had on the moss-covered rock. Tears in Alyrie's eyes before drifting into blood-red leaves.

That look in her knight's eyes, staring at his bride- a vision in white. As if The Maiden appeared on their living plain. Her hair brought out of her face from four small braids- the rest of the auburn-brown fallen loose down to the bodice's low hem. He muttered something to himself, as she approached- with a Princess and her sister- Elspeth found herself glad his own hair was unruly. It suited him instead of keeping it contained.

Harwin found her eyes, not minding notice of the pair of maidens ushering to the left- behind Elspeth. "Are you sure you're not an angel?" She laughed at his words, as did he. Both out of nerves which turned into a buzz of energy.

"Quite the opposite, Ser,"

"We are gathered here today, under the eyes of the Seven, to wed these two individuals bound in a ceremony of love, devotion and commitment till the Stranger waits outside their door," they held hands, it must have looked rather odd with the splint but neither cared. Bound in their gaze, "If either bride or groom have vows, you are welcome to speak them."

Neither had prepared vows, but thrived in the face of uncertainty, "I promise to always accept you. No matter how small the issue, I will give you the support of an army and will stay strong and loyal till I am afterlife." Now she had to upstage that... for fuck's sake.

"I can promise you myself, and no matter how strong you may be- I will always hold fast if you should buckle. Even in the hold of the Stranger- I will always find you. Whatever the cost." Their ears numb, caught in a kiss.

Even when they were pulled from each other- a fever remained. Only finding one another- swiftly drifting to Harwin's chambers, carried the entire way in his strong arms. Nobody else mattered. Both had waited patiently- not crossing that line; which no longer existed. She was now Lady Strong. Harwin could rightfully remove her gown and caress her skin- soft as velvet.

Silken, sheer undergarments- almost the same as the blue on his House sigil. That was the something blue. It kindled that already burning fire in the man, "What's on your mind?" Her hands propped on his chest.

His touch grew a bit rougher- only a pinch as his clutch mangled in her hair, "May I bed you, Lady Strong?"

"Yes-" He made care picking her up. She had him hard and she knew it. Lips slipping against each other's- open-mouthed and fierce. She knew where she ended up because of the solidness in his trousers; sat in his lap, testing him with a buck of her hips.

A groan in the kiss. His eyes glossed over in pure lust. “Don't stifle yourself, Harwin. I want to feel all of you."

She had taken the straps down of her chemise, minding the splint. But Harwin made it difficult- the stare he held. No look of amusement or disgust...

With Harwin sat up, she made quick work of his shirt and unbuttoning his trousers. "Take it slow at first, it may hurt."

"It can't be that painful..." His underwear came down- as she looked at it. "Gods be good..." She cursed- running a finger along the wide girth and long length. He couldn't help but amuse at her reaction. His hand stroked stray hairs out of her face- arms bearing his weight.

She moved back onto his lap of her own accord, "We don't have to do this right away, I can prepare you-" Elspeth gripped onto his cock, lining it up to her entrance, "Wait-" But she had sank down, with a pained yell she stopped herself. The sharp panting falling away from her lips drove him wild, but he restrained himself.

"Next time, I shall heed your advice," broken worded. She was near crying, his kiss strangled that but he inched inside further- brushing her cervix. "Fuck! That feels good," His name escaped her lips while her hair covered them both. "Move, Harwin. Please."

And he did move, the angle of his cock left her in a sultry rain of moans. "You okay?" She nodded, nuzzling her head in the crook of his shoulder. Matching his upward thrusts with downward grinding. Her eyes rolled back.

And he was like a bull, a plethora of sinful comments trickled out of her. She could take it, she was made for his cock- both aware of that. "You're all mine." Holding those hips captive, so gentle yet so efficient- ensuring she would remember this throughout the week and maybe struggled to walk around knowing fully well who did it.

Unable to rid herself of his taste. A shadow cast over his face, with a wide mouthed kiss devouring him- knowing her too well, his pace picked up and those moans were consumed by the capture of his hungry muzzle. His body slacked, both unable to keep upright.

Elspeth smouldered, riding her man. Thigh burning but it added to the pleasure. A pressure built up inside of her, mind cloudy. "...Win..." Skipping the first half of his name, his look hooded and thrusts all over; adding fuel to the moans and groans. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her down.

Chest to chest.

Forehead to forehead.

Lips about to connect- but her yell caught the air. His name.

Her body shook, her pussy in a spasm. Harwin's under his breath, prominent in her ears. Her core felt warm and molten- his own release.

They regained their breaths- her head on his strong, built chest. "Now I know why people can't wait till they're married to do that." His laugh made her giggle at her own remark. He rubbed the small of her back- a welcome way to untense her sore body.

"By the Seven, I love you. I didn't hurt you, did I?" Her head shook, unable to stop her eyes from weighing heavy. Feeling the strokes of her hair and to her back.

She was all his.

And he was all hers.

___________________________

Thank you for reading! Hopefully the smut wasn’t too awful 😂

If you wanna be tagged just message me or leave a comment!

Series taglist:-

@llynx7 @babyred7

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

44 - Greenish White Bloodraven

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 16.2

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, past character deaths, trauma related insecurities, alcohol consumption, discussions of pregnancy and miscarriages

Notes: So, what do we think the wider reaction everyone here will have to this news, come morning exactly? Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

Stannis Baratheon could not tell yet if he was offended or impressed. From the previous days when meeting him for the first time, to that night, already he knew opinions were going to be mixed. On one hand, he preferred not to treat men with any degree of special treatment, but unlike what many spoke of him as, Stannis did not feel a lack of emotion. In fact, it was that tie of not treating him any different against what his emotions were telling him of that was the conflict.

On another hand, the boy was stubborn. Quite stubborn, and rather stoic and quiet in comparison to the short time Stannis had encountered his brother. On the more difficult end, the more they spoke in those first days the easier it was for Stannis to understand what about him would have appealed to his first born daughter. As soon as this man of the Nights Watch had told him his name, he was struck by the appeal to emotion to give him the chance other men didn't deserve.

Perhaps however, it was exactly those emotions that was why Stannis was leaning towards impressed rather then insulted. The Lady Melisandre had the King beyond the Wall ready to be burned at the stake, due in part for his role of leadership for the wildings and their attack, another in part of if execution was the just sentence for him, then she demanded it for that of the Lord of Light.

The King beyond the Wall had only just begun to sound out in agony as the flames encased around him, when suddenly from a high point behind Stannis and the crowd did an arrow come. Landing directly into the wildling King's heart and ending his life before his sentence was truly carried out. Stannis had turned to look and see what happened, but only saw what should have made him angry, yet didn't.

Jon Snow had killed Mance Rayder quickly out of mercy, and in a very public display against the word of a King.

So as he sat in what became his office, the bastard boy standing across him the next day, part of Stannis pondered these very thoughts. Why wasn't he more insulted, offended, angry? He would not let it go without a word, but even Ser Davos watching could tell Stannis was not anywhere near the sort of reaction he would've had were it done by anyone else.

But he reprimanded Jon all the same. “I ordered Mance Rayder burnt at the stake. You prevented that order from being carried out. You showed mercy to Mance Rayder. A king's word is law. Perhaps you should ask Ser Davos how much mercy I show to lawbreakers.” He could see the boys eyes drifting to where only stubs of a once full hand now remained of it's fingers. Yet still, Stannis did not quite maintain the level of authority which he had spoken down to even the boys brother with. If anything, he was aware enough to know this was more of a parent lecturing a child. “Show too much kindness, people won't fear you. If they don't fear you, they don't follow you.”

Jon however, spoke with a calm respect. He stood in silence with his eyes drifted somewhat downward as Stannis lectured him, but it was not the same look now. More of a wide, bright eyed honesty that did not come with attitude nor judgment. Just a low, rough voice speaking the raw truth which Stannis found himself appreciating.

“With respect your grace, the free folk will never follow you no matter what you do. You're the man who burned their King alive.”

He did not appear someone who wanted power, but Stannis tested that intention all the same. “Who then? You?” Jon however, did not hesitate with confidence to tell him no. Explaining that they would only follow one of their own.

It was quiet for a moment, and the debate in his head stopped there. He could tell the boy was on edge, and was expecting a punishment further then such a conversation. Of course he would, he thought to himself. He was a bastard, used to being looked down on. And as it were, he could tell men such as Ser Alliser Thorne and Lord Janos Slynt despised him to the point Jon likely was seeing little light at the end of the path.

But Stannis also knew, the two of them had both been in the others proximity for a number of days now, and not once had the boy come close to bringing your name up. Which was interesting, considering you were the only reason Stannis had any preconceived notions about him in the first place. He knew there was a closeness between you and Jon once, which few were ever graced to have.

And he knew losing that closeness must hurt a great deal, and yet, Jon Snow did not once so far come close to saying your name or even indicating he knew anything about Stannis having a daughter besides Shireen. He was keeping something locked very tightly inside in front of Stannis and he couldn't help the manner in which he eased up.

Stannis wanted to know more about him, because he needed to understand what about a bastard could at all endear themselves to someone such as his firstborn daughter. And why the same bastard seemed to act as if you did not at all exist, now that you were gone.

So he switched tactics. Lightened the air up with something Stannis had an inkling was going to illicit a reaction more then the stoic, cold quiet Jon had thus far. Pulling out a raven scroll tucked underneath a pile of papers. “Do you know this wretched girl? Lyanna Mormont?”

Raising an eyebrow, Jon stepped forward as Stannis pushed it across the desk. “The Lord Commanders niece.”

“The daughter of the Lady of Bear Island, a child of ten. I asked to commit her house to my cause. That's her response.” And it got just the reaction he expected. Calm, more calm, and suddenly, what might have been the closest to a laugh if even only a smile, which he was going to pull from Jon that tried to peek out as he got to the crux of the answer.

Bear Island knows no King but the King in the North, whose name is Stark.

Only the slightest of raising of an eyebrow did Stannis lean forward, the ghost of a smirk which was not to be noticed by any. If perhaps only Ser Davos beside, who watched with a quiet intrigue of the growing dynamic as Stannis said, “That amuses you?”

In a second, did Jons tune change. The stone wall was put right back up and erased every scrap of personality Stannis was trying to slowly pull out of him. “I apologize, your Grace. Northerners can be a bit like the free folk. Loyal to their own.”

Setting it back down on the desk, Stannis commented that he knew all too well of that aspect of Jons people. Robert during his reign had gone on often and loudly about how difficult it was to control them, even with Lord Eddard Stark acting as Warden of the North. They were a stubborn people.

Just as Robb Stark had told Stannis they would be. And Stannis knew he was a fool for ignoring him.

Ser Davos begun going back and forth with Jon regarding that night's coming event. Lord Commander Jeor Mormont had been killed some years ago now, and a new one would need to be chosen now that the wildling threat had been taken care of. Stannis had said to Ser Davos directly before Jon had been summoned, that it was not passed a man like Thorne to hang Jon for what he sees, which is a traitor and a threat.

Stannis did not claim to care what caused the man to think Jon Snow was a traitor, any hearsay he heard wasn't his business but he did care of that being a threat. And Stannis did not come to regret refusing to aid in any way to Robb Stark, only to stand back and let his brother waste every potential in him by being taken out by an unpleasant man with a grudge.

He did not mince words telling Jon that. “Your bravery made him look weak. He'll punish you for it. I don't punish men for bravery. I reward them.”

The boy made it easy to figure out what you would have been drawn to him. He was blunt and genuine and without attitude when so many would have spoken to him at that point. No, Jon Snow seemed to approach the truth and the subsequent burdens with as much weight as as his long passed father did, as his late brother did, as Stannis did and most notably, the way he knew you did too. “I don't doubt it, your Grace. But I'm a brother of the Night's Watch. I've pledged them my life, my honour, my sword. I don't know what I have left to give you.”

But Stannis knew there was one thing. “You can give me the North.”

Doubt ran across Jons face in an instant. A doubt and an insecurity which any highborn wouldn't have reason to feel, but being a bastard instead, Jon did not hide from it. “I can't. Even if I wanted to, I'm a bastard. A Snow.”

But Stannis had thought, if this boy being a bastard did not matter to you, it should not effect the manner in which Stannis was growing to view him as. You admired a bastard, and Stannis did too, but law was law. He was a bastard boy with nothing to inherit and leaving on his own would be desertion. But, Stannis was a just man, and he knew the law decreed that there were ways in which to remedy both situations.

One which would spare Jon from being at the mercy of a Lord Commander with a hateful grudge looking to hang him, and one which would utilize what Stannis knew could be a powerful ally at his side. Both problems too, had the benefit of one singular, simple solution.

“Kneel before me. Lay your sword at my feet. Pledge me your service and you'll rise again as Jon Stark, Lord of Winterfell.”

Much to their surprise however, Jon had been elected as the new Lord Commander and subsequently told him no.

Stannis's life made even less sense the more the year progressed. Receiving word that Balon Greyjoy was dead, the Ironborn had organized the first Kingsmoot in centuries and voted for their new King to rule the Salt Throne. Who had begun to pull the Ironborn out of the North, leaving Stannis to start moving along to gauge what was left remaining. He had thought however, of all men, they had elected Euron Greyjoy.

During the Greyjoy rebellion, by the time Stannis was able to sail to the other side of the country, he had encountered Euron and Victarion Greyjoy as they burned Lord Tywin's ships at Lannisport.

Unlucky for Euron and his brother, who commanded the other half of the Greyjoy fleet, they were not the only men who lived and breathed the open waters. House Baratheon was built upon being surrounded by water since the start of their house's existence. Stannis was the sailor of his family, even moreso then his father. In times of war, Robert gave Stannis full command to do what needed to be done and it took only two months to destroy the Greyjoy fleet.

He held the rest of them off as Ned Stark and Robert Baratheon lay siege to Pyke. Only after two of Balon's sons had died, did he surrender. Handing his last remaining son to Ned Stark to take as prisoner and for the rest of that family to lick it's wounds as Stannis could finally return home to what was now, his two daughters. He had recalled hoping that Selyse's brother Alester had heeded his advice, and allowed you the chance to rule Dragonstone in his stead, with guidance from what stayed there of his council as necessary.

No doubt Selyse was still recovering, she had been as unwell this pregnancy as she was the entire time she was with you. Perhaps he should have known all four of those others wouldn't have come to term, the only two pregnancies which produced a living child she had been sick from minute one. Meaning Stannis sailed home already with plans in place on how to tackle that. You'd need to be focused on your lessons once more, and that would mean taking time away from you with Shireen.

He never said a word of it, but one of the few times Stannis felt something grow in his heart was the early morning his ship appeared in view of Dragonstone. Quickly did Ser Axell call to him, pointing out a figure high up looking. Or two figures. The one time Stannis had smiled so easily in front of his men, was the sight of his twelve year old daughter, with his three month old newborn daughter in your arms helping her wave them home.

By the time Shireen's greyscale had been cured, Stannis knew he had an unspoken reason as to why he was insistent on bringing you with him to Kings Landing. The two Stark boys had been a tedious influence on your wildness, and previously Selyse had been fed up with your growing attitude. He knew bringing you with him to the capitol would help in that regard. But he knew he couldn't bring Selyse and Shireen, first he needed his wife and her eldest brother Alester to serve the island for him and he was not cruel enough to think he had the right to separate Selyse from the first child she was able to have that lived in over twelve years.

But he could bring you. You were so much like him in some of the worst ways, and the older you got the clearer it was that you somehow inherited too, the worst self destructive tenancies of Robert. It was a difficult relationship his whole life with you, but he loved you. And if he could have only one thing in that rats nest of a capitol, he wanted it to be you.

It was why when your fourteenth nameday was approaching and you still had not bloomed, he gave explicit instructions to you not to say a word to anyone when it happened. To come to him and only him, but as it turned out, a handmaiden saw it first. He knew why Cersei insisted you took on handmaidens, she wanted a spy to watch over the only girl in the capitol she could dote on and try to groom you for her plans.

So he did what he had avoided doing for almost two years, sending you away again. He wrote to Lord Stark telling him to expect your arrival, and ordered Allard to ensure you left on the first ship the next morning. You'd be as far from her reach as possible with the Starks, and he refused to let you return until he was confident he had dismantled every one of Cersei's schemes involving you.

But two years with the Starks, and two years growing into someone close to a woman, well, you never really came back the way you used to be. You felt dragged back by force out of nowhere and you had blossomed into a girl of sixteen by the time he saw you again and now all those worse parts of himself and Robert clashed tenfold between you both.

It never got better. Only worse. Then he did what he once sent you away to avoid Cersei doing. He used you as a pawn for what was Stannis's own political movements, by marrying you off for his own strategic advantage. It was karma really, he did to you what he sent you away to avoid Cersei doing to you, and in return you sided against him in a war. You were declared a Queen at your independent Northern King and husbands side.

Then he refused to make peace. Then he lost at the Blackwater. Then he lost you, he lost the son in law he never gave a single chance, and he lost the grandson Stannis never knew he was to have.

Only to meet Robb Starks last living brother, a man who Stannis was almost certain was in love with you. Only to then separate once more not knowing if he'd ever find reason to convince Jon Snow he was worth more in this fight then a frozen castle at the edge of the world. Then they met at Deepwood Motte, a wildling army at Jon's back where he insisted they speak inside in private.

The news never stopped being out of control. According to Jon, you were dead, and then alive, you were a prisoner of the Boltons the entire time, and now the boy, Ramsay Bolton was preparing to start a war to get you back. Only, it got stranger and stranger what Jon told of him until it all led to what Stannis quickly caught onto was all but a thinly veiled threat when the subject came up, that you had been considered a traitor to Stannis before your death.

“My own brothers stabbed me seven times in the chest and I bled to death trying to convince men to help me to rescue her. The only reason I'm standing here, is because she brought me back. Not any god or priestess or ceremony, just her. If Ramsay is willing to start a war to get her back after spending a year torturing her, try to think what I'd to protect her against a father still trying to call her a traitor.”

Jon Snow had gone from refusing to even mention you out of a strangling grief he wished to internalize, to standing before a King with a not so subtle threat that he'd protect you against more then just the Boltons if Stannis tried to push it. He had gotten the image all wrong when he tried to imagine your place back within life, back in Stannis and Jon's lives. He was terribly wrong about it all.

Only, he wasn't as he now realized. He was right about almost all of it.

The ironic thing was, that faced with the reality of the imagined fantasy Stannis wondered up in the days in Castle Black, it was clear which one between you and Jon was equipped to handle him without any hesitations. Jon had stood before the sitting King with nerves and a raw honesty.

This time though, you sat across from him to position yourself as an equal, and the silence in the room was not wrought with nerves or tension. Just a stubbornness and a complete lack of intimidation.

Green eyes on green eyes unblinking in their stare against one another as you sat down before him and still you and your father sat in a silence. Whatever arguments the man was ready to put forth, you knew you were equally as ready to knock them all down.

Minutes passed before either of you broke, and it was your father who did it first. “I don't imagine your mother was thrilled over the matter.”

A sigh may have left your mouth were you less controlled in your nerves of said moment. “Her daughter went from a Baratheon to a Stark to a Snow. I didn't expect her nor you to be pleased by it.”

Any other man and there may have been blatant judgment in their tone, but in your father it was even and dry only caring of getting to the route of the topic at hand. “Neither of you presumed to think it would be appropriate for the man to gain blessing from the bride's father before a betrothal is made.”

You didn't blink, nor did Stannis. He did not jump right to his point without ensuring you understood where he was going to be coming at it from in root, but you didn't really feel the patience for it right now. It wasn't meant as a game but it felt one regardless. Your tone was if possible, even more flat and unwavering dry as his. “Previously, you had assumed Jon and I were sharing a bed so to speak. It seems a step backwards to care about asking permission for marriage before caring about pre marital affairs.”

Both of you were far too stubborn for this. “Two moons ago you married, we can cross out being with child as the reason for how rushed you went into this.”

A part of you hesitated, there was no shame in the truth anymore and certainly not with your father in comparison to the sort of affairs both his own brothers engaged in. But would it change his view of Jon you wondered. Then again, you could also find it in you to argue that if this changed his opinion now of all times, he must not have respected him as much as he claims. So you were honest. “Jon and I have shared romantic feelings since I was fifteen. We've known each other since I was eight. I think it is safe to say, he and I have done the opposite of rush into this.”

He didn't look as if this was new information, which was the strange part. You knew the only one who had an inkling was Shireen, but you had known for a fact she kept all of it to herself since she had never even confronted you of such subjects in that manner. How your father knew, you couldn't figure out.

Calm as ever, you both looked at one another, sat on either side of the desk in quiet as the muffled sounds of work and yelling filtered in through the stone walls against the crackling fire. “He taught you how to use a sword.” Not a question, and thus you gave one nod of a yes before he continued. A curiosity filtering in his gaze. “Selyse wasn't happy about that either, when you returned home that year.”

“It might be more productive by now to make a list of things I've done that have made either of you happy compared to not. If we name all the things about my life you disapprove of we may be sitting here quite a long time.” Silent for a moment you forced the question out. “What is your point here, father? Is it that I married without your expressed permission or is it because I married a bastard?”

“Something's changed since the last we spoke.”

Silence sat between you both more, “Has it?”

He couldn't have known, you know he didn't know. You were keeping it a secret from most everyone for a reason, including why he managed to escape alive in the first place. In truth, you didn't want to sit here and talk about Jon. You wanted to sit here and ask what on earth was wrong in your father's head when he decided he was going to let the red woman murder his own nephew, the only one he had left for all he knew.

You wanted to know why when there were so little of Baratheon blood left, were you all self destructing towards oblivion.

Your father murdered his brother, and tried to murder his nephew and you murdered your sister. You could sweeten that night with honey all you wanted, but at the end of the day, your father and you both killed your own blood. Maybe you wanted something from him which he couldn't provide. The answer of why this family was doomed to destroy each other.

Your father kept his calm in the face of a silent whirlwind behind your stoic gaze. “The last we were in Kings Landing, I met a number of Robert's bastards. Didn't care for any of them. Half Robert, half whatever tavern slut he bedded on a drunken night. The only nephew I had known for some time was Joffery, and not yet realizing the truth of his birth I saw no interest in getting to know any of Roberts other children. They weren't trueborn, and nieces and nephews or not, if Robert was not going to recognize them, why should I?”

Was it hypocritical you thought? The degree to which maybe you should rip the necklace from your person off and give it right back to the man who gave it to you, the one who didn't know what it was like to push dagger into the back of her skull. Mercy or not, why should you be angry about what Stannis had almost done to Gendry when you had done it yourself to your own little sister, to Shireen.

But it slipped out in an anger regardless. “Because they have your blood in their veins, same as I.”

You had seen her state, she had no life waiting even if she would ever awake without agonizing pain shocking her back to the darkness. It was different you told yourself, so why did this not feel different?

It was easier when you learned about Renly. You were still a person then, a human made whole in life and not a shell of what used to be with your sisters blood on your hands. This time, you learned about Gendry after you had already committed kinslaying exactly as your father did. You did not have the right to feel angry at him, when you did it yourself. You and your father were no better then the other.

If Stannis had a point he was making, he was tying it together from various starting points of stories he assumed were related together. “Your mother was not happy when I married you to a Northerner, but at least he was a highborn. Heir to Winterfell. Happy or not Robb Stark was an appropriate suitor for my daughter. Had in those days you come to me and told me you married a bastard without my permission, I'd have dragged you back to Dragonstone with me and never let you out of my sight for some time.”

Your eyes drifted to the side ever so slightly. Dramatic, but precisely what you would have expected in such years. Only, the connecting bonds your father weaved together, you hadn't expected. “So when I offered to make Jon the Lord of Winterfell, I offered to make him a Stark to do so. He was only a bastard, and law is law so I offered to declare him the name of his fathers house and seat in exchange for his fealty. He turned me down, and do you know what it was I had thought that day? What came to mind when he told me no?”

Shaking your head slightly, there wasn't a judgment in his gaze, but something a little more weighted with an emotion you were struggling to identify on Stannis, at least when it was directed towards you it was a struggle.

What wasn't expected, was the real answer. “I had wondered, that if in another life where you had lived, if you were still alive, would that have changed his mind. If I had offered to make him a Stark, offered to make him Lord of Winterfell, would he have accepted my offer, if you were alive to offer him as well.”

Brows narrowing, your head tilted in a slight ask of a confused whisper. “What does that mean?”

“Had you been alive, or more accurately, had any of us known you were alive, I would have given you to him as a wife in addition to everything else. Give the boy one more thing he never had, a highborn girl he had been in love with.” He had known, in whatever manner he deduced, your fathers time with Jon directed him to the very conclusion Jon had hidden from all too many. “Naming him a Stark wouldn't have changed the boy being born a bastard, and if I was willing to marry you to him then, I'm not sure how much else could convince you that is not the issue now.”

Nails dug into the leather of the other glove in your lap, not sharp enough to feel much of the pressure against your skin under. Still, nothing was said from you. “I am insulted this was all done without my knowledge or consent, but that does not mean I disapprove of the marriage or of him. You chose all on your own to let your surname become Snow, and your children will hold that name as well. If I cannot change that, I will not waste my energy being unhappy over it.”

Inhaling deeply, you had to convince yourself to turn and look back at him mid way through your own sentence. “What is this then? A lecture to tell me how disappointed you are?”

The immediate falling expression into something flat on your face at the ease in which your father looked at you without blinking and said, “It is like you said, if we were to sit down and discuss everytime I have been disappointed with something you've done, we'd have spent much more time in my office over the years going over it every other day.”

It was difficult to tell when he was being hyperbolic to amuse himself or to find a small rise out of you, but the stiff quiet between you both wasn't awkward as it was a bit of a distraction from the previous tension going unsaid. A hum in your throat had you peeling your eyes away with a smirk only he could've spotted without question. “And you wonder why you weren't invited. Now, can we move to the matters at hand or shall we sit here a little while longer and pretend I'm getting a stern talking too?”

Still though, it was a strange thought which remained in your head for the moments of quiet you were left alone in. Your father was right in a manner of speaking, everything he offered in their own way came to reality. Only without his help was the caveat for some, and titles were the difference in others.

The memory of seven fatal wounds forever carved into Jons chest. A death which led to every prediction of your father to come to fruition, but for as far as he has come, part of you wished he had taken the offer when he had the chance. Returning to life didn't make it any better that he died trying to find you in the first place.

He had done much to move on from it, move you both on from thinking of it, but it was right there every time you saw them. The memory unable to be shaken of walking down the steps of the Ice Cells for the very first time that morning as everything which had the chance to finding something positive in your life died all over again. It wouldn't have changed that he was Robbs heir, it wouldn't have changed how you felt about him, it wouldn't have changed that you would follow him no matter where he was to lead you.

It would've meant he lived, and for perhaps the first time, you hated how dedicated the Starks were to doing the right thing no matter the cost to themselves. Jon himself had told you he didn't regret trying to leave to find you, but he should.

“I have four thousand I can station between four castles right away, and I have another ten trapped in the Stormlands by the Golden Company.”

Were you anyone else, the guilt may have been brought out on your face right away but as it was, neither you nor Jon gave anything in expression away. Nor even shifted a glance to one another. A lie quick forming in your mind to jump to Jon's defence before anything of what he and you had done would be given away. This would be the worst time for that as such.

As it was, Jon stood confident as ever. It was clear his time in the Nights Watch had left an impact on him which had not gone away. Before Edd arrived, he looked the most comfortable walking even the ruins of the Nightfort, and still looked just as at home in these walls as he did at Castle Black. The only thing any different from your last time spent at the Wall, was there was slightly more grey and browns mixed with the ever present black on him, and the once wild curls now tamed pulled back.

Hand clenching in on itself, you forced your eyes back to the table you sat at, on one side of it Jon was stood braced with his palms against it and Stannis stood at the other in a similar position. For once, you had said nothing in argument as Jon had insensitively moved to almost push you back in the seat when you made to stand with them. Nothing said further when he seemed all but shove food in front of you with a pointing gesture to make you eat.

Ripping off small bits at a time, thankful that despite the almost amusing pushiness, Jon seemed to sense lately exactly what you needed, when you needed it. The past week in particular he was very keen on picking up any changes in your mood, behaviour, anything. You couldn't yet tell if Ghost, who currently was sat dutifully by the back of the room with keen watchful eyes, was doing the same on his own or picking up the habit influenced by Jon.

Though, Ghost did bring a dead fox all the way in from the wolfswood about a fortnight ago, and found you specifically to gift it to. Your two White Wolves both odd creatures, they were.

Jon's voice rumbled somewhat to the side of you, “I can send a raven to Storm's End. Find out if Aegon would be willing to negotiate letting your men leave.”

The quiet sat on your fathers face and you already knew the precise question which would come out of his mouth. “And why would the boy be willing to do so when he previously refused to cooperate?”

You were proud however, the ease in which Jon had the answer without finding his way to the lie which sat underneath the how. “Aegon knows eventually his aunt will make her move to Westeros, and he knows it will turn into the two of them against each other. We managed to negotiate a truce with him, he won't try and force the North to bend the knee or fight in his war and in exchange the North won't choose a side. If he and his aunt go to war, he agreed to show us peace if we give him neutrality.”

And the follow up you had seen coming, “How did you manage to come to that agreement?”

Quick and flat, you let it slide out as if natural in the moment statement meant as a jest towards your father, but Jon only briefly glanced to you with a wider look in his eyes at how easily you covered up to Stannis of all people, especially when you knew the lie was truly yours. “Some Kings are more willing to negotiate peace treaties with each other then you.”

Once more however, it was striking in the room between primarily Jon and Theon the degree to which only a few years apart from you and so much context of your life was forever missing to them. Ser Davos looked down with an amused glint in his eye covering a smirk, and your father only matched the flat look in your eye as an answer. “Very well then.” Looking back to Jon he was quick to the point. “Send word to him as soon as possible, the sooner I can get my men to begin work on the castles here the better prepared we can be.”

You could tell as the room filtered out, Jon was silent in his stare to grab your attention but it had missed you entirely as Theon came to speak beside you. “You can't avoid them forever, you know.”

Glancing to the side before flickering your gaze back to the cold outside, you held back something of a sigh. “I can when we leave and they stay here. We allowed them here to fight this fight, not preach things to me I had spent years avoiding being apart of.”

Theon could tell you were being stubborn, but you on the other hand knew that he wouldn't push the issue in the same manner others may. “Should have hanged them both before ever letting them get anywhere near Winterfell.” You didn't look with a glare that time but Theon felt it no doubt, following himself up with a more collected tone. “You can frame it however you like, but they were still part of that plan to kill you.”

Shortness on your tone, you almost interrupted him. Cutting through whatever words may have come next the moment you could sense the end of his breath. “Kidnap. Murder is a far charge away from that of kidnapping. And you and I both know now they did not plan it. Hanging them wouldn't change that someone else planned all of that.”

He was quiet, and you knew he felt as agitated as Jon would everytime you came up with excuses for what Beric and Thoros had been apart of. “Your father know about it?” The answer of no came so quickly it almost brought more aggravation from his tone you didn't need to look to know was there. “If they aren't guilty, why not tell him about it?”

“There is little Stannis Baratheon appreciates more then executing justice, but this didn't happen in his lands. It isn't his business. We are handling the rest, he doesn't need to be told everything which happens in my life.” You felt the cold wind stinging across your cheeks, but in a way you almost felt relieved by the sensation.

A bitter awakening which kept you on your toes instead of the comfortable many wanted for you now.

“Don't know much about him. Spent some twenty years at Castle Black before being made Lord Commander. Didn't last long after that, and if I don't know more means he probably wasn't very good at it.” Always one to appreciate the manner in which Edd got right to the point. Your arms crossed your chest, elbow propped up onto one to let your nails tap at your lip in thought as you listened.

He also thought little of your questions or their abrupt nature thankfully. “What happened to him exactly?” Also a stroke of luck he either did not pick up on your unusual curiosity or did not see fit to particularly care in prying about why.

Part of him looked exhausted, though you were beginning to feel as if all of you lived in such a state these days. His voice sounded distant and somewhat muttering as he clearly tried to recall the exact details he may have once knew. With how much he read you knew Sam might have been a better starting off point, but even if you could catch him alone, he'd mention the questions to Jon the moment they saw the other next. Which was the point you were trying to avoid, certain things simply didn't need to be added atop his shoulders despite what he insisted. He wouldn't let you take some of the burdens from his shoulders to share so you weren't going to add to them.

“Went ranging north of the Wall, disappeared, died. I assume. Hard to say that for sure anymore.” Your expression fell to a tie between somewhat dismayed and understanding, but regardless Edd caught the sense you were going to make him elaborate first. “Men disappear out there all the time, anything could have happened.”

Pacing along the length of the room, you shook your head more to yourself. “Any ranger perhaps, but I find it hard to believe the Lord Commander could disappear out there and no one would come back with anything to say about it.”

“They would if no one was there to come back with him.” Tormunds voice bounced off of the walls and against the wood towards your ears but your face scrunched slightly in a confusion. Turning to look at him there was something narrowed in his gaze towards you. “Sometimes crows leave all alone and don't come back, Mance didn't.”

It was Edd's turn to look back, standing a bit straighter with a tilt of his head towards him. “Mance Rayder wasn't Lord Commander, and he was born out there. This guy wasn't. Can't imagine many highborns willingly leaving everyone behind to live out in the snow.” This time, it was your eyes narrowing in a bit of a surprised curiosity. But it had to wait for now.

“Maybe he was looking for something.” As soon as you had asked for what, Tormund once more looked as if now he was the one withholding information on purpose. He clearly knew enough to give you small details but something else was being kept in his head despite you having the clear indication he knew more then he was willing to divulge. “Freedom? A Woman? Who knows.”

Edd piping up with a doubt in an amused tinge hinted at in his voice. “Man was in his sixties. Can't imagine he only found the urge by then to start sticking his dick into something after twenty years.”

“Be surprised what old men want when they go grey. I've seen plenty of grandpa's get new energy like their boys finding out they can play their cocks all over again.” Oh you were not the correct person to be a participant of this discussion. Holding a hand to your forehead as both men went back and forth until you found your limit of dick discussions for a lifetime.

Holding a hand out almost in a pleading for whatever they were saying to stop, you interrupted them with what was clearly an embarrassed grimace on your face. “I believe we have gotten far off the discussion, gentlemen.”

Nodding towards you, both men now smirked at one another in a knowing joke you were not in on. “You'd think being married to a crow she'd know all about that.”

Now you didn't even know what they were talking about anymore at all. Edd not helping as he indulged whatever joke Tormund was making at your expense. “Guess not. Suppose we know why they still don't have any little ones yet.”

Your face scrunched in a disapproval and yet almost an innocent bewilderment how you even got onto whatever this topic was. “I don't even have a clue what you two are going on about anymore.”

Whatever the smirk between Edd and Tormund meant, it had you rolling your eyes in an instant. Muttering as you made your way to leave the room to their boyish mockings on their own. “Many thanks for the assistance.”

Only, instead of finding the door to the cold outside did a large hand grab at your forearm and without any effort tug you backwards. Body landing somewhat in a stumble only to be cushioned by the now very close proximity of Tormund. Brows narrowed as he leaned down to look at you with a quiet but more serious tone for your hearing only. “If you're not going to stop snooping, may as well ask the only one here whose been out there his whole life.”

Raising an eyebrow, you found he almost matched your expression in a challenge. “I did ask you, and you claimed to not know anything.”

“Did I, now?”

Both pairs of eyes could've been mistaken for glaring had it not been a staring competition between you and Tormund of all people. Though you supposed to Edd it looked rather as such. Your voice lowered for only him to hear with a roughness held back in frustration. “I'm not paying games, Tormund. If you know something tell me, if not, let go of me.”

The last man to be intimidated by you, he didn't take the bait whatsoever. The smirk was almost infuriating however. “Starting to sound like the pretty crow needs another reminder how to loosen up.”

Only silence as your eyes narrowed just slightly more, only this time the jest behind it was far clearer to him then Edd now confused as anything. “If you weren't twice my size I'd have hit you by now.”

Passing a beat between you, instead he once more used his stature to turn you in place, tugging you more to his side before shoving you to the door as your previous goal was. Tormund this time following suit as he rumbled just behind you, “You know all the right things to say.”

In the cold air of the Nightfort, a great laugh left him as you sighed almost so deeply one would think it came from the mouth of a disappointed parent. Under your breath you whispered in an exasperation, “Seven hells, I knew you weren't done letting this go.”

Waiting until the moment you passed him by, did Ghost stand up and dutifully follow wherever the path was which Tormund was directing you. Unbeknownst to you as he trailed along, the red behind the direwolf's eyes weren't bright and attentive but almost darker and tense behind them. Tormund wasn't the only one not letting that go.

By the time the name Brynden Rivers came from your mouth, Tormund had told you he's never heard of him. Your eyes rolled with a glare up to him. “I know you haven't heard of him, that's why I didn't originally ask you that.”

The Nightfort made sense only in terms of when the Nights Watch was regarded with respect and given the manpower and resources to hold it. By the time it was abandoned it then no more made sense to keep it. You had walked for what felt like ten minutes and still found yourself only now approaching the other side of the courtyard. Not even five hundred men could maintain this place for such a long period of time, let alone the dwindled numbers you could presume had been it's final count.

“So what did you see exactly.”

Twice now you had seen it, in one dream then once more not long ago. Both times not alone but a crow with three eyes beside it, as if they stood one in the same now. It had pricked at your mind that first dream, the second you returned to the waking world that you knew the image in words you hadn't had at the forefront of your memory. It was why you scrambled to search the texts for it.

It had been more then only a red raven, it was a raven with feathers looking as if it was utterly coated and dripping in blood. Two eyes only but red blood dripping from it, but the crow with three was black as any normal bird. That one you had seen more then twice, but you had even less of an idea what it was meant to symbolize.

Tormund had clearly been thinking on it for a while, responding to such description easily. “Never seen or heard a raven like that. You said it was beside this crow?” A nod from you with no other input you let him stew on whatever was coming together in his head. “No one's seen a three eyed crow before, either but north of the Wall I know plenty who've talked about it. Say it's some omen of black magic.”

No, you thought, you'd seen black magic. It was in blood and fire and horrible death. This was not the same at all. Leaning now against a stone wall, the only destination he had intended was privacy. Ghost circling around to near a corner where his eyes could ensure focus from every oncoming angle before turning his head to watch you intently. Tormund stood somewhat a few feet in front of you, most of the jesting act now dropped as he prodded your mind for detail.

“Is there any difference in seeing it with your own eyes or seeing it in a dream?”

Tormund however had a strange answer. “The only place anyone's seen a three eyed crow is in a dream. Long time ago, my people would talk about it but no one's ever lived long enough to find it.” A question of why on your lips and once more you felt lost. “Never met anyone whose survived that far north, or at least survived long enough to come back. Last one to try said was about fifty years ago.”

Nothing was said and yet it dawned in your mind. Lips parting a bit as you looked down to the snow across the ground. Looking up hoping it would transform into a vision you could make sense of, but only stone and more snow in such a place as you already were. “This last one wouldn't have happened to be a man of the Nights Watch would it?”

A single nod and you despised how every answer made less sense to the mysteries wrapping around your mind. “Lord Bloodraven. That was the other title he went by. That's what I was discussing with Edd, the Lord Commander around fifty years ago disappeared ranging north of the wall, and before that most remember him as Lord Bloodraven.”

Answers should feel relieving, not that of a heavy weight adding to the strain in your head begging to turn into a pounding agony. “So, some old Lord Commanders coming to you in a dream with a three eyed crow. Maybe he's trying to tell you the answers you're looking for are out there.”

Just as Tormunds head gestured to where the Wall stood high someway beside you both, did a third voice join the pair of you. Only this one was both loud and yet a deep rasping with little patience in the short tone attached to it. “Then she won't find them.”

As the larger one turned, your head rose with a wider look bright in them as Jon stood with his posture tense and rigid a few feet from you. Leathers across him yet even without anything warmer you somehow felt as if you still were colder in the winter air then he was. A glance with Tormund, Jons eyes harsh and just as intense as the air around him he nodded behind him. “I want a moment with her.”

Neither you nor Jon moved until the small alcove you stood in was now alone save for three, one of which came up to Jons side more energetic then before. A gloved hand ran over the side of Ghosts face as Jon muttered something low and affectionate in tone before both came over to you. Still leaning against a stone wall, your hands wrung together as if nerves sat within you.

Perhaps they did, but you couldn't quite figure out what was wrong. Or, that kept being the problem wasn't it? “How did you know I was over here?” Jon only flickering his eyes pointedly to Ghost before your lips parted in a curiosity. “Do you do that often?”

Hardly what you could call a shrug came from him, Jon closing the distance more and as soon as he stepped with an arms reach you felt his warmth already radiate into your skin. “Only when I'm worried about you.”

Tensity in the air seemed both out of existence from him and heavyset within your blood. A gloved hand reached out as he invaded the remainder of your personal space along your arm, his head leaned down a slight bit to meet closer to your eyes. But you hardly met his, glancing away prompting Jon to try and follow to keep up. “You don't need to be. I'm staying in the castle walls still.”

Your voice was a mumble, but you could tell the meekness seeped through, wishing you could curl in on yourself as his hand ran down your upper arm. “What do you-” Your eyes flickered up to meet his and the brightness in yours painted an insecure image that you knew looked bad on you. Jons voice dropped to what felt like pity, “Darling,”

His hand tried to reach up, gently brush your cheek and jaw to turn you to look at him but you almost flinched from the touch. A shake of your head as you mumbled, eyes casting downward to the black across his torso instead. “Ever since Moat Cailin..” Trailing off you wished you sounded more put together then your wavering tone did. “I know you don't trust me but I still don't understand. Not trusting me is one thing, but it's as if you don't even want me doing anything.”

The same gloved hand ran through the loose strands of your hair as Jon muttered your name low, but you avoided his gaze still further when he tried to make you look at him again. His breath hot as if brushed across your skin and if he was any closer you'd be able to feel his curls were they loose, brushing against you as well. “That's not what this is.”

Down further your eyes found instead of up, you could now see the pommel of Longclaw sat against his side. Your hand still wrung together in front of you. “I try to help you, you make me stop. I try looking into things about whats coming for us and you tell me not to. I try and figure out what's happening with these dreams and visions and you get angry with me when I explain I'm doing it to help you.” He was silent, but his hand still ran through the strands.

Jon sighed deeply, trying again to no avail to get you to look up at him, and even the tender rasp of your name didn't do the trick. His other hand found your hip as you continued to not reach out to him the same way. “I trust you more then anyone else-”

Shaking your head, you felt your limbs tense at the feeling in your throat. Don't do this now you thought, don't get emotional now of all times. If it was evident as you spoke, you weren't looking enough at Jons reaction to know if he caught it or not. “You don't. I know that, that I've ruined that. But it's as if you don't want my help at all. I don't even know why you let me come if you didn't want me here-”

Cupping your cheek properly Jon leaned in to make you face him, but your eyes still couldn't handle whatever was in those beautiful greys. “If could only have one person with me anywhere, it would always be you, no matter what. Where is this coming from?”

Did you even hear him? You didn't know, the noise in your head was loud and too nonsensical to make out genuine words when he was so close to you. He was too warm it wasn't fair. “Everything I try to do to help you, and you get angry with me for it. If you don't trust me to help you, Jon, I'd rather you be honest and say it because everything about these past few weeks says you'd trust nearly anyone before me. And I get it, I do, I ruined all of it but..”

You shook your head in the pause of your words, Jon now letting his other hand dance along your jaw trying to tilt you back to him but the watering sting behind your eyes only got worse.

“You won't let me do anything to try, I don't even know when I have any chances to gain your trust again because you keep telling me to stop.” He muttered your name but the red in your stinging eyes warmed part of your face and throat and you despised how pathetic it was you were upset over nothing again. You didn't have the right to be upset Jon didn't trust you.

An attempt to lean in had you turn your face away from his, not in malice or the sorts, but heavy on an insecurity that used to sit on the man before you, not you before him. “I trust you, I want you here by my side, but it isn't as simple as that right now-”

“Then tell me how to fix it.” A second or two did you meet Jons desperate gaze but you looked away again as the upset wavered with frustration. “Either I'm a terrible Queen, or I'm a terrible wife, but I don't know how to fix it if you won't let me.” In the mere moments it took Jon to reign in the shock forming across at the rawness in your words did you fill it with whatever noise sounded off louder in your head. “I'm scrambling to find any scrap of something to help you but maybe I'm making it worse, maybe you don't want me to help and I'm too blind to realize it.”

Did Jon say your name? You weren't sure, the noise in your head now blended with the racing of your heart and not at all did you have the awareness to know any tears had fallen down your cheeks. You still refused to look at him. “I'm constantly scared I'm ruining things in your life, and- fuck.” Cutting yourself off something more panicked waved through you as the noise in your head turned clearer so too voices you might have recognized.

If Jon did or said anything you missed it, pulling away from his touch as you felt the tears and the impending humiliation. Wrapping what was once his fur cloak around you more, you shook your head, tears freezing in the cold air. “I thought doing this in private was the better choice, since I was getting in your way but now I don't even know what to do at all. Somethings been wrong between us and I don't understand why.”

His hands reached your forearms from behind, running down them as Jons warmth enveloped your back as you spoke. “In the crypt you said that maybe you didn't know me anymore, but really I don't know you. You came back different, you became a different person in the time we were apart and all I did when I came back was get worse. Maybe I don't know you anymore and I'm only just catching onto that.”

The second Jon tried to comfort you, breath warm at the side of your head as he rasped your name. A gloved hand trying to dance along your person to reach your scar but you pulled away again, that new rough wave inside you upset as ever before. You felt a mess as he followed you with the same low tones hoping to reach your ear. “You've got it wrong, I'm trying to protect you.”

But the only way you seemed to think Jon decided to do that was to push you away. You barley stood at his side when discussing things that mattered anymore, he hardly gave you anything to do to help him and got upset when you did like you did now, and try to figure things out, out of his way. “You told me if I couldn't lead, you still wanted me to stand by you. But now all you do is tell me to stop, tell others to stop helping me when I'm trying to do things for you. I don't think there's been a single day for weeks you haven't looked at me like you hate that I'm in the way.”

Jons voice rose a bit as it was stern, but you tried to walk away from him and it raised even more so he could keep up. But all you heard was anger, your rational mind didn't know what else it could be indicating. “You're not in the way and nobody, including me thinks that you are. Ever since that night on the ship it's like you're convinced I want to get rid of you.”

Turning towards him, it took him back both the raise in your own voice but also how it did not match the more devastated look in your eyes. “Ever since that night you look at me like I've lost my mind, Jon. And the moment I try and figure out what's happening to me you make me stop. All I want to do is be someone you can be proud is at your side but maybe I'm too stupid to realize that all I'm good for really is warming your bed at night like a whore.”

Jons brows narrowed, lips parting slightly as he looked at you. Something darker sat behind his eyes, head turned to the side just a bit as if figuring something out as he tried to close the gap you created between you. It wasn't a judgment on his part you said it with, but the words themselves struck something in Jon that put him on a cliff's edge which you yourself, could not see was there. Opening his mouth to speak, he thought better of whatever the words were before throwing out a demand of your name. “Look at me.”

Whatever Jon saw when you did, it was something he didn't like but you couldn't stand here and find out, not with people around not when you were in a place that was nowhere near home to hide or find any comfort in. You would rather have turned around, been in Winterfell and sought comfort in your bed, but no- the bed was Jons. Not yours.

“My lovely bride, you wouldn’t have happened to play around with other men while you were gone were you?”

Ramsay was right. Stoneheart was right. You weren't anything anymore. You were a Queen, a leader at Robb's side but all you could manage at Jons was being a whore for his pleasure. And now you just tricked yourself into thinking marrying him would make that mean anything else.

“Fighting for my whore of a bride sounds like a wonderful idea.”

He should've let you go back. He should've just let you go back to Ramsay. You hadn't gotten any better since then but at least Ramsay wasn't a good man, you weren't bringing him down by being in his clutches.

You heard Jons voice close through the muffles of your mind, “Darling, I need you to listen to me-”

But you shook your head. Turning away from him, not bothering to hide that you were wiping the tears away before any out there could too see how pathetic you were. “I've kept enough of your time.”

Oh if only you could turn around and see how heartbroken the wide eyed expression in Jons eyes were at that one. The return to formality last seen only in the days of Castle Black but now you were so much more to him. But you didn't see any of that. And it made Jon mad.

He had worked so hard to help heal your mind, and suddenly the weight of the world and winter and these dreams and visions all but destroyed the progress you had made for him. It was starting to feel as if you were as lost as those first days you came back to him. But this time so much more was at stake if Jon couldn't fix it in time.

If you found out on your own now, Jon didn't want to know what you'd do. You had long walked away as his heart tore away at him, still standing there. He lost the chance to tell you the other night, and ever since Jon was trying to wait for the same perfect opportunity. But maybe you needed to know right now. Before you let the memory of Ramsay Bolton take you from Jon, back into his torment.

If he could have killed that man all over again, Jon would ensure this time was far bloodier. It would not be many months more until it marked a year since you escaped Ramsay, but some times it felt as if Jon kept losing you to him over and over again. Everytime you got better, Ramsay pulled you away from Jons love, back to make you hate yourself all over again.

If he were being honest, Jon was glad Gilly was back in Winterfell, otherwise he knew he'd have ended up all but rudely kicking her out of the room with little proper decorum. Instead, all which occurred was Sam nearly being ambushed as Jon both barrelled into the room and slammed the door shut behind him. Sams head jolting backward, “Jon?”

Words trapped in his throat Jons hands braced themselves against the desk Sam had been sitting at, head hung down as his jaw clenched through breaths asking to painfully heave. Before he could be asked anything else in checking, Jon all but hissed your name out, eyes closed knowing he had to say it out loud to someone before he said it to you tonight.

“Ah, now I must admit, when they told me I'd be given a watch partner I didn't expect someone as important as yourself to do so.” Many times since meeting again, Thoros's voice was grating and irritating as it was preachy.

Only now as you slowly approached, hair blowing back in the high winds and all but clutching the fur around you to cover your front you hadn't yet met his gaze. No, instead it was the green wavering in the far distance on the North you saw first.

Once more in the winds the only sound, did Thoros break that peace. Softer in tone and a weight behind it that he was not often heard with. “Mesmerizing isn't it?” Your head titled just a little bit to indicate you were listening. “I know, for everything I stand for, I'm the last person who should admit that, but it is. Hard to take your eyes off it once you see it the first time.”

The green truly was something else. Nothing but fear and horror has become you in the world of red and fire and yet the shimmering green against snow and ice was what drew you in so naturally. Neither of you spoke for a moment, Thoros leaned against one wall and you standing with both feet facing the far North with wide eyes.

By the time your voice spoke, Thoros had almost given up expecting conversation.

“She's pregnant.”

It took a good number of seconds and an entirely blank stare for the information to register to Sam, but the moment it did he shook his head out of the pause with a distinguished, “Huh?”

Jon's eyes were wide, something more vulnerable then Sam had seen in them for a very long time but it was there and Jon couldn't hide it. Repeating your name, there was something almost painful in the way Jon had to force it out. “She's pregnant. Around three weeks, she doesn't know.”

For the second time, Sam was at the disadvantage and had to be the one walked through things. “She- but- how would you know and she doesn't?” Only for a wide eyed and open mouthed realization to come over him, “Ghost. Ghost could probably sense it and if you went inside his head, then you could sense it.” The moment Sam begun a congratulations in his voice he stopped himself with another question instead. “Wait, she doesn't know. You haven't said anything to her?”

Grey eyes almost shining brighter then the firelight around the room, Jon felt nothing of the firm strength and resolve a King was expected to have. He felt more like a boy playing at leadership then truly one himself. “Sam, she's a mess. Everything the past two years and I managed to get her pregnant at one of her lowest points since I've seen her again.” Only the two of them in the room, Jon almost begged for the sun to go down already as if the night sky could hide such raw ramblings.

“You said it never gets any better.”

Still not facing him, you knew Thoros had heard you, but you elaborated anyways as you looked out to the green against the pitch black night sky. “In the dungeons, you told me it never gets any better. This feeling. What did you mean?”

He almost chuckled to himself, looking down to his feet before pushing off the wall to stand where you were precariously close to the edge of a mighty drop. “Five years it's been since the Lord granted me the ability to bring Beric back to the light. And in those five years I never thought I would meet a soul who would understand what such power feels like. Beric doesn't know, he never will. Coming back in comparison to bringing another back is easy. But us?” He whistled dramatically in the air. “There isn't a word in any language here or across the Narrow Sea that could describe what it feels like to someone who doesn't already know.”

The wind was bitter around your face but it kept you awake and reminded you that you at least had not yet taken a step too far and plunged to the ground. Far away your gaze was looking and so was the voice which matched your distant mind. “How do to handle it? Feeling everyday like you're so close to losing your mind, only to have that feeling double the next day and the next?”

A laugh from Thoros that time did not come across as genuine. Morose, macabre, but nothing in a genuine amusement as the wind almost mattered not around the two of you in something you had long since avoided speaking of.

He sounded more serious then most likely knew his whole life, “Well personally I drink a lot, but something tells me you haven't quite taken after your uncle in that regard.” Your eyes only then peeled to meet his, and there was a hint of a jest in there that was genuine. A person did still exist in the mess of him somewhere, so where was yours?

Tilting his head to implore him, Sam lowered his voice to something a bit more calming. “Jon, I don't really think many people get pregnant when the time is only perfect. Look at Gilly, she spent most of her time thinking I was never coming back, only for Karl and Rast to kill her father and take her home days after giving birth. Spent the first few months of Sam's life with me on the march back to the Wall.”

Sighing out deeply, Jon dropped his gaze. Jaw clenched as was his hands tensing against the wood, eyes slipping closed to try and think clearer. “This is different, Sam. I used to have visions of her, dreams of her. I'd see things that all came true of her, not realizing she was seeing me and now it's even stronger. Now she's almost living through memories that don't belong to her and she's going to make herself sick trying to figure it out to help me.”

“You used to-”

Pushing off the table Jon ran a hand over his mouth, the sight still came to him in his sleep sometimes. He'd wake up and all but throw the furs off the two of you to look you over to make sure you were alright. “I dreamt of the night she died. It was the last vision I ever saw of her. On the ground, soaked in her own blood and I kept watching her die over and over again. Then she came back to me, escaped the Boltons, came back to me and brought me back from the dead, Sam.”

Turning back once more Jon knew he looked almost like a wondering boy with fantasies then a man, a King discussing the complexities of his Queen. “She's done more to help me in that one day then I've ever wanted to ask of her, but I don't know how to get it through her head. Everytime I try, it's like she's afraid I'm lying to her or tricking her. Like somewhere inside her, she's scared she's going to wake up and be right back with Ramsay instead of me.”

He couldn't have that. The similarities were all too horrifying. Jon needed a way to get through to you before you were scared you had to have this child because you thought he expected it. Ramsay would've, it was the only reason he wanted you. He wanted you to give him an heir the way Rhaegar only wanted Jons mother to give him a third child. Jon couldn't have the first of your family together start off with those fears still swimming in your head, he couldn't.

Jon knew he's wanted to give you a child since your first night together. He had spilled inside of you secretly begging the gods to let it take, and then when it didn't Jon had to pretend he wasn't completely disappointed. It was far safer for your honour to wait, but that didn't change that Jon had wanted this a long time. Every single time he brewed you moontea he hated it, he wanted to throw it all into the fire and just take you twice more to ensure his seed took deep all over again.

But you came back to life so desperately alone, only to be told your only purpose in this new life was to be used for a child and nothing more. Not to get in the way, do as you were told and have a son and that was all you were needed for. He didn't want you to think that, and it slipped out in the air with Sam before he could contain the thoughts. “I don't want her thinking I did this on purpose.”

Sam though, had spent a good moment looking at him. Not with judgment or searching of guilt, but seeking a genuine raw honesty they both knew was sitting so close to the surface. “Did you?”

The truth between you two was strange. Not a man you ever would once think you'd care to have something in common with and yet at the frozen edge of the world, you and Thoros of Myr were the only ones who understood the turmoil of it all. The conflict. Beric could speak of doing what was told of him for the cause, but he didn't know what it felt like to be the reason it could happen.

Softly, you spoke out in a breathless sentence. “He doesn't understand. Jon tells me he needs me, but he doesn't get it. Not truly. He doesn't know what it feels like to realize your only purpose is him, that you wouldn't be here without him, you'd either be dead or live walking without cause if he weren't still here. That if you lost him, you'd lose the only reason to stay anymore.” Thoros was quiet as you spoke, and there was an eternal gratefulness in you that the night was too dark and wind to strong to see the watering behind your eyes.

“I'm not defending what happened, but you left him once and it brought you to us. And that brought him back to you. Maybe it's the Lord maybe it isn't, but it wasn't only someone elses plans against you, it wasn't vengeance. The only souls in this world who understand what it's like and we were supposed to come together. Beric doesn't understand why I have to bring him back everytime, but I'm willing to wager that if something happened to your King, you'd do everything then more to bring him back.”

Slowly you nodded, and Thoros did too. Bringing something up to his lips before handing it over to you. Turning with a raised eyebrow to the skin in his hand he clarified, “Black strap rum, courtesy of your fathers bannermen.”

Brows narrowing in hesitancy, you accepted it but the moment you opened the cap you glanced with more of a doubting glare. It took but one sip for you to cough before it even went down. A real laugh left him that time, grabbing you by the back of your cloak to keep you steady with one hand as his other went to take it back with a mighty sip for himself. You muttering out as he did so, “That is utterly vile.”

“You don't drink it for the flavour. But we still have time before they come, don't we?” Both of you looking to the green. “We'll find something for you to cope before then. Plenty of ways to self destruct.”

Taken back for a moment Jon asked Sam to repeat himself. “Did you get her pregnant on purpose?”

Jon almost couldn't hide his self doubt. He hadn't even considered that until that moment, but, what else was the alternative? Of course he wanted to get you pregnant, he's wanted that since the moment he came back. But he wouldn't get anything out of coming to Sam with this by lying. “I've always wanted her to be the mother of my children. Part of me hoped it took the night we were together, that first night in Castle Black..”

Opening his mouth to speak, Sam stopped with wider more playful eyes that in an instant had Jon turn inward knowing what was coming. “Oh. You two were...” Searching playfully for the right word he raised his eyebrows at Jon. “Intimate? The night she brought you back? You were that eager, were you?”

Turning away almost in a fidget, Jon rolled his eyes back knowing now he was moving far too much to be casual and both men knowing how much Sam was starting to enjoy teasing Jon about you. Almost mumbling Jon barley got out, unsure if he should even admit it. “I had her naked minutes after I first saw her in front of me.”

Leaning against the table he smirked at Jon, “And you're worried that after what? Nine months? That now is too soon to get her pregnant? By the sounds of it you'd be over the moon if she had right away.” Jon pushed off the table, pacing along the room with nerves once more. “Jon.” Turning halfway to look, Sam had dropped the mocking. “My point is, you've known each other since you were children. You snuck around with her for six years, and now you're married. It's normal for a man to try and get his wife pregnant. You didn't want children because you didn't want them to be bastards, now they won't be. They'll just be yours, and she knows that too. She's going to figure it out eventually.”

Hand running over is face Jon felt the nerves mix with exhaustion and it felt as it it boiled inside of him into something dizzying. “It's just..I hate not being able to help her with this..Ramsay's dead and I still can't make him go away for her..”

Soft as ever, both men looked at one another more vulnerable then some ever let themselves open up in a lifetime. “You can't force her to get better, Jon. You can only show her you'll always be there no matter how long it takes or how hard it gets.” Nodding, Jons head hung for a moment trying to ease his heart into slowing down enough to settle his breathing. “Trust me, it took Gilly and I a lot of work to get to where we are now. You two have known each other for way longer then that, you shouldn't be worse then me at this when you're talking to your own wife.”

“Thoros.”

Turning behind you, the nerves picked up in such a quick instant that you were grateful your hands were already clutched at the furs around you. Harder to see in the dark that way you almost flinched. But Jon stood there up on the so far, empty Wall as if he hadn't relaxed since you last saw him one bit, only having put the dark warm furs around him that blended so well with everything else on him like it was made as such.

Glancing to you for only a moment, Jon directed a quiet but respectful attention back to the man beside you. “I'll take over for you tonight, get some rest.”

A question formed in Thoros's eyes but he nodded. “Much appreciated, your grace.” Not quite passing you by, the slightly slicker Jons eyes slid down to the skin of what you now knew was rum before watching as the man turned the corner eventually to where the lift was.

By the time Jon had turned back, you once more were looking out to the shimmering sea of green against the night sky. Instead of a respectful stance next to you, Jon spared no time in coming up to your back. Not giving you the chance at pulling or pushing him away, Jon wrapped an arm around your front to pull you back into him. The other gloved hand raising up, across your neck to tilt your head enough to the side Jon could partially rest his forehead somewhat against yours.

You could feel him relaxing right away as your own hands came up. One somewhat finding the hand on your stomach, and the other grasping at what you could of his forearm. The wind between you both was cold, loud, and yet so much more peaceful then how you left him hours ago. And you voiced it as such, knowing you had to step up. “I shouldn't have spoken to you that way. I was out of line, and I'm so sorry.”

Sighing deep, you didn't blame him for it. You wouldn't take your apology either.

Instead of replying, Jon adjusted his hand to press yours against the scar over all the layers at your stomach before once again covering it and your hand with his own in the same spot. A gentle rasp in your ear had your eyes fluttering shut briefly at the soothing sensation. “I'm going to say something, and I need you to listen. No arguing, no anything. Just listen.”

You nodded, and for once Jon accepted that as enough for now.

Almost murmuring in your ear, you could feel the faint traces of his curls which fell loose dance across your skin as his thumb rubbed along your jaw. “Everything that's happening, you want to be there for it, help me fight it. But you keep going through waves of being alright and then this, because you refuse to admit you're still scared of him.”

You hated that you knew who he was talking about, and you hated that he was right.

You felt Jons breath dance along your skin as if the feeling itself made it easier to listen. “I let Ramsay say what he said, because no matter what, he had the right to say whatever he wanted his final words to be. But I was wrong about one thing. I should never have let you be there. I should've kept you away, beacuse ever since I took his head all you've been able to do is hear those final words over and over again.”

Shaking your head in denial, you managed to get out just the start of his name as he shushed you quiet again. Pulling you closer to his chest, almost nuzzling what he could reach of your head with his. “No, I know you have. You don't want it to be, but over and over again I know he's still there in your head. You went through hell with him, and I know you've been lying to me about the things he did. Trying to pretend it wasn't as bad as it was.”

Frozen to the spot, you thought for only a second when you realized it. “What are you talking about?”

It was Jons turn to shake his head, pressure on your scar against your hand Jon even closer mumbled into your ear. “I know he did things, made you do things that I never even could've imagined, and I know you don't want me to know because of how you think it'll look. But it doesn't change anything between us. You're scared he's right, that after all he did I won't want you, or I pity you. But he doesn't know me. Never has, and now he never will. Ramsay has no say in how much I will always love you, so I need you to understand me when I say I won't let him come between us anymore.”

You wanted to hide the watering in your eyes, but you had a strong feeling Jon was watching for it anyways. Stuttering barley a breath out, “Jon..everything in my head just feels..it's all wrong.”

Jon however, just kissed he side of it, before kissing the skin just under your ear. Breath hot against you, “Trust me, darling. It isn't just you. You're scared of disappointing me and proving Ramsay right, I'm scared of terrifying you into not wanting anything to do with me beacuse I'm too intense for you now.” Trying to protest in his own defence, Jon continued over your words. “For a year I thought you were dead, and for three and a half years before that you were married to my brother. And the first thing I did when I saw you alive in front of me was strip you naked and fuck you. And if we're being honest with each other, when I spilled inside you that night I was trying not to force you stay on my cock until it took.”

Pushing more against your scar, Jon almost smiled at the small gasp which left you. Looking to the green, but suddenly all you could see within it's shimmer was as if it reflected both you and Jon was you were now in it's sights. “Maybe it would've been easier if it had.” Jon silent, allowing you to elaborate on the thought before it left you. “Something Cersei told me, that if a woman has nothing in her life, she should treasure her child, hold onto one thing that's theirs, that makes sense if only to them.”

A hum vibrated through Jons chest into you, running his thumb more over your hand at your stomach before rasping, “You don't have nothing. You have me, you have your people, your family, you have everything right here waiting for you. And I'll help you however long it takes to get through that beautiful head, that you're allowed to not be alright. I don't want you to get better for anyone sake but your own. But you need to accept that you can't push this all down and pretend that's dealing with it, because now it's only hurting you more.”

As if every inch which Jon could reach of you was warm against the cold winds desperate to sting at the skin exposed. You leaned back almost more to hide from it without committing to turning away. A low murmur only he could hear, as your heart somehow did not beat yet raced all the same. “I haven't felt like myself since I've come back. I don't know if I ever will. I wanted to still give you the version of myself you fell in love with.”

Another large sigh left Jon, but the tone was creeping easier and easier back into being identifiable the more you relaxed against him. His voice low in your ear without ever wanting to move. “I was in love with you when I first caught a glance of you across the yard.” A small smile evident even when you could not see it on him. “I told you, we belong together. You can't get rid of me, and I'll never want you to. I want you by my side, but I'm not asking you to do the work. You're by my side because I love you, that's your job. Be the woman I love, and just let me love you for it.”

Almost giving you a tiny shake, you still managed to miss the brightness in his eyes shine with a smile as you huffed out a laugh. Your heart steadying a little calmer, “Sounds strange to say, but despite everything, life was so much easier when I was with child. We were in the middle of a war, but suddenly the only thing I was supposed to do was what I was raised my whole life to do. Marry a man and have his children, not very complicated it was.”

The whisper in your ear was almost insecure, “Were you happy?” A hum of question left your throat as he clarified. “When you were pregnant, being easy doesn't mean it made you happy. Were you?”

Your eyes narrowed for a small moment as you connected a few dots in your head, the fog clearing a bit more then it had felt for days leaving clues you otherwise missed. A soft smile fell over you, “I was married to a man I loved, and was going to have his child. Of course I was happy. But just beacuse we haven't gotten to the second part of that yet, Jon, doesn't mean it's for a lack of trying. You of all people should know that.” His chuckle pinged at your heart, it always did. “I'm not trying to deny you this, but it took Robb and I two years to get there.”

Only, the conversation you were expecting, wasn't what Jon approached it as. “It won't take two years, I promise.” A confused tilt of your head somewhat, you asked what he meant. Jon, spoke with the confidence of a man who knows what he wants, and suddenly the pressure of his touch against your scar made you lightheaded as he murmured to you. “I stopped brewing you moontea the night we married. It's only taken you and I two months. Not years.”

You were confused, trying to grasp what he was trying to say and- you knew Jon sensed the moment you figured it out. His hold on you was suddenly tight as if trying to keep you comfortingly close and to not let you move away. Your name came carefully from his lips, but you only stood wide eyed.

No longer even seeing the green, you only had one sense and it was the pressure of your hand trying to feel under all your layers. You...two months..the fortnight passed you had started this feeling. It was then you knew something in your head felt wrong but it wasn't that. Only, it was. Your emotions had been all over the place last time, needy, angry, on edge, you were more volatile then usual and you didn't understand why your head felt such a mess.

This time there was simply a bit of a pre existing mess it had to fight for attention with.

Previously you had worried you'd be a mess, conflicted and upset..but you had long moved passed that by now. You knew that, you had been ready the night you let Jon take you on Dragonstone. Yet, without that turmoil of conflict in your soul, you almost didn't know how to react, what to feel this time. Your voice barley there. “How did you-”

Jon luckily read the words in question. “Ghost can sense things we can't. He figured it out right away, I didn't until I was inside his head.” The cold winds no longer flew mindlessly by, it almost seemed to wrap around your limps and cocoon you in a sensation of something frozen to the spot without the sting of the temperature on your skin.

Your fingertips dug into what you could feel of the scar over everything and your heart lept from your chest and out to the world beyond. Almost echoing the words spoken some three years ago but not with quite the same joy, but an exasperated insecurity. “Why would you keep this from me?”

Turning your head moreso to the side, Jon rested his close enough he could almost lean down to nudge your nose with his. Nothing but patience poured from him. “If you haven't noticed, darling, your a bit all over the place lately. I didn't want to tell you while you were upset. I didn't want you to think-”

In what once might have allowed such insecurity to show in your tone, instead it was knocked back and downward by a hint of what could've been guessed was a smile. “You worried I'd feel pressured into it.” A nod was all you got from Jon, but letting your eyes slip closed, you found the bravery in you regardless. Reaching one arm backward, best you could you wrapped it moreso around the back of his neck, resting half along the skin you found there and half in the warm fur around him. Jon moved either closer into your back, or pulled you further into his embrace but his grip grew tighter once more. “I suppose it's only fair. I kept it from Robb, and you kept it from me.”

Were his heart not so heavy in his chest, Jon might have found it in him to chuckle. Instead you heard him roughly forcing a voice back out to the world in low, deep tones. “I know this isn't the life you dreamed of,” Wishing his grip wasn't so tight, you'd have turned to face him by now. Only this time you senses he was now the one hiding from you in a way.

Before the unsure feeling coming from on Jon could continue, you did what he seemed to be so good at with you. “Jon, the past is the past. I can't go back and wish I could change it now. You're my future now, and so the life I dream of is whatever we decide.”

He didn't say anything for a bit and neither did you. It wasn't the perfect portrait of a normal, joyous couple with such celebrating news, but perhaps that wouldn't suit you both. Not anymore. But surprisingly it was you who broke the quiet. The heavy weight you were so sure would burden you down with, it wasn't there. Not really.

You had made your peace with the life you lost, now it was the tormenting start of your new life plaguing your mind. But that shouldn't ruin this, they had no right being connected. “I believe that makes what? Four vows I've helped you break?”

Jon all but hid his face in your neck, muffled voice vibrating against you. “My father would be disappointed.”

Moving your hand back, you tried to keep him gently against you as much as you could manage from here. Leaning your head against his, there was the confidence in your voice to placate his insecure ones just as Jon would do for yours so often. “You are everything in a son a father could ask for. And I know yours is proud of you. He's always was proud, and he still is of who you've become. As is your mother.”

His hand over yours on your stomach tightened. After everything Jon had done to bring you back down to earth, he now was the one who didn't have the words anymore. But you didn't need him too. He wanted to focus on you as you did him.

And you knew Jon had forgotten, he lived an entire life thinking this would be something he would or could never have. He was so worried about how you'd react, you were starting to think it wasn't until right now Jon let himself truly feel something raw about it. But you'd let him take his time, just like he had with you. There was much to do come morning, but for now, the rest of the world and it's plights didn't get to exist. Not between you both, not right now.

Until the morning sun finally raised it's weary head, there was nothing up on the top of the Wall except you, Jon, and the new growing life he gifted you, against the otherworldly sight of a shimmering green winter sky.

[archoniluthradanar]

It's all in the Costume

It's all in the Costume : a poly!Volturi kings one-shot

Response to a request from @iloveslasher

Warning for four-way smut, 18 yo+ please.

You are the mate of a trio of very powerful vampire kings who co-rule the vampire world with an iron fist. To them though, you are their beloved human mate, the one who joined with them a year ago, willing and unafraid. Why would you fear them, when you love all three with all your heart.

They allowed you to remain human, but will soon discuss the need for you to accept the change. They love and care about you, and know your vulnerability as a mortal. They never wish to see you harmed in any way.

One day, you were in your room trying on your costume for an upcoming science fiction convention being held in Rome. You'd specially ordered the entire costume, your mates never denying you anything where money was concerned. You tried on the red satin dress with a full skirt that ended just below your butt. There was an overlay of black velvet that gave you small flairs hanging behind you, sure to draw attention to your backside when you walked. The finishing touch was a "Dracula" collar that wasn't attached to the dress, leaving your shoulders bare.

You pulled on a pair of black silk stockings that reached mid-thigh and tied to a garter belt with thin, nearly invisible garters. The length of the skirt and the height of the stockings left a few inches of bare skin showing. Lastly, you slipped into a pair of stiletto black heels. Your costume was complete. Only your hair and make up would need to be done on the day of the convention.

You twirled in front of the mirror, feeling very much like a gothic vampire. You needed to get into character though and had no one to play off. Maybe Felix would allow you to practice with him.

You were deep in thought while looking in your full length mirror, when you noticed the reflections of your mates standing behind you.

You turn to face them, then go to each to give them a welcoming kiss. "Good morning. Why are you here, Aro?"

"Do we need a reason to come visit our mate? We thought to see how you are, and find you dressed in..." He waves his hand up and down in front of you. "...this."

"I'm going to attend a science fiction convention in Rome Saturday with Felix as my guard." You smile at all three of your mates. "I'm a Gothic vampire," you explain cheerily.

"Who said you could attend this...convention, and in Rome?" Caius demanded. "We should be accompanying you."

You walk over to the blonde vampire and play with his shirt collar., kissing his cheek "Love, you would not enjoy yourself. In fact, I'm sure you would all hate it. Please, my darlings, Felix will be going with me, and he will protect me. He won't even need a costume. Anyone looking at him will think he's something...alien. He won't even have to wear contacts."

Noticing the sudden silence, you see all three of your mates looking over your costume, with the satin and lace dress barely holding in your breasts, and with the very, very short skirt and the thigh-high stockings that leave a few inches of bare thigh showing.

Aro tsks as he examines your outfit. "This is unsuitable clothing for the mate of the Volturi masters." His words don't match his reactions. You see him clenching and unclenching one hand. His eyes are dark crimson, telling you he does not disapprove of your appearance at all.

Marcus moves around you as if inspecting a prize horse. You follow him, turning with him until he stops in front of you, his eyes looking at you appreciatively. "It is a charming costume, my dear, " he says, his eyes darkening. Marcus is feeling sexually needy, but he is less inclined to show his need as overtly than either Aro or Caius.

You notice Caius staring at you, unblinking, his eyes having darkened to a deeper red.

"Is something wrong, my love?" you ask him.

His eyes rake up and down your body. He's made no secret of his desire lately to bed with you, but Aro has kept you busy with administrative tasks he allows you to work on around the castle to keep you from getting bored. Caius reaches down while you're trying to sway him, his hand caressing the skin bared by the short dress.

"The dress suits you, amore mio." Caius' actual goal is to remove it from you, and take you with all the pent-up passion built up over the past week.

Their passionate need for you is not hidden. Aro comes over to slip his arm around your waist. He gives you an all too innocent kiss on your cheek. Caius, on the other hand, stands on your other side and places his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to kiss you with a desire that imparts his message. He wants you beneath him, his hard cock buried inside you while he teases your neck with his sharp teeth.

You look at all three of your mates. They have never taken you to bed as a group. Always, you spent time with each alone. The very idea of a foursome is already making you wet.

You need no words to tell your mates what you want.

You walk over to Aro and nuzzle his neck, the cold of his skin pleasant against your flushed skin. While you kiss him, your hands begin to unbutton his shirt, fingertips running down his chest, before you pull it off him and let it fall to the floor. When you pull back, you see his irises are black as night.

While Aro kicks off his shoes and socks, you move to Marcus, who has not budged at all. You offer him your lips which he takes with his in a passionate kiss. Your hands immediately divest him of his shirt as well. You feel his cool hands slide up and down your back. Turning away from him, you teasingly bend over to pick up both shirts and lay them on a chair. His eyes are now as black as Aro's.

Facing Caius, who has surprisingly proven to be more patient than usual, he pulls you to him with both arms, trapping you within his embrace. His mouth captures yours, sucking your breath inside his mouth. The soft noises you make spur him on, until he hears a protesting Aro.

"You may not keep our mate to yourself, brother, if she is willing to have us all." He holds out his hand to you and leads you to the massive bed the masters ordered for you on your arrival here a year ago. Up to now, you only ever shared it with one of your mates. Now it was going to be used for what it was built. You smile to think that it could be true.

"Caius, you prevented me from removing your shirt." You proceed to unbutton it, kissing his chest after each button is opened. "Kneel in front of me." Your eyes tell him its not a request. A smile slowly forms on his face as he complies with your command. Without warning, you place a shoe on his right shoulder and push backwards. He was unprepared for this and falls on his butt. He can see up the length of your legs and beneath the skirt, noticing the dampness on your red satin panties. The scent of your arousal wafts to him, causing his eyes to narrow in desire.

"Take them off," you tell him. You extend a leg whereupon Caius removes your heel and tosses it across the room. You repeat with your other leg, his hands removing that shoe and tossing it aside. This time he kisses the top of your foot before releasing it.

You turn to Aro, holding out your hands to him, your eyes demanding he come to you. When he does, you tell him to kneel and remove your left stocking. While he undoes the garter clip, you see Marcus standing to the side, jealousy written on his usually passive face. You wait until Aro has rolled your stocking down and off your leg.

Without a word, you step over to Marcus who knows what to do. He releases the garter clip and rolls the other stocking down while placing a kiss or two on your now bare leg, inhaling your sweet arousal. He takes the stocking and throws it over his shoulder. Placing his hands on your waist, he kisses your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth. You proceed to unbutton his shirt, and once it's open, you lick and suck on his nipples. Marcus throws his head back and groans, then tears his shirt off himself.

All your mates are nearly naked except for their black dress slacks. You have only the collar and short dress on. You reach up and remove the pointed collar. While all three men stare at you, you untie the bodice of the dress and let it all slide down your body to the floor. You're now clad only in your red satin panties with the garter belt.

Walking back to the bed, you crawl across the mattress, giving all your mates a tempting view of your rear. You lie back on a couple of stacked pillows to allow yourself to see everything. Caius is the first to approach the bed, with Aro and Marcus close behind. The three vampires join you, their hands caressing your bare legs, arms and torso.

Marcus lies on your left while Aro lies on your right. Caius is at your feet, his lips moving up your legs, kissing your warm flesh. When he reaches the center of your body, he takes off the garter belt and slips his fingers into your panties, pulling them off. You help by raising your hips off the bed briefly. You are fully exposed to your mate, who moves closer to your mound, inhaling deeply.

All you see now are three horny vampires with eyes black with desire and all hungry for you. When you feel a cold tongue slide between your lower lips, you arch your back and gasp. Aro leans over you and kisses you, his tongue between your lips since it is too dangerous for you to use your tongue in this manner. Marcus leans over your body, one hand caressing your far breast while his mouth carefully laps and suckles at the breast nearest him.

You twist your body in need, your senses beginning to become overwhelmed by what your mates are doing to you.

Caius has you so close to an orgasm, all you can do is breathe hard and whimper. "God, Caius, don't stop. I'm...so close." While he laps at both sides of your inner lips and sucks the hard bud of your clit, you feel him slide two fingers into your wet core, thrusting them in and out while his tongue continues its torture.

Finally, you cry out his name, your hips unable to stop moving while your inner muscles clamp on his invading fingers. You collapse back on the bed, your heart pounding in your chest. You reach up your hands to entangle themselves in Aro's and Marcus's hair.

Caius is about move to your side when you say, "Pants off!" Marcus moves the fastest and you grab his arm. In a low whisper, you order him to take you. "Fuck me, Marcus. Caius has prepared me for you. Now!" He needs no prodding, and positions himself over your body, then plunges into you, taking your breath away. He usually likes to get you used to his size, but not this time. He fills you completely, thrusting deeply.

You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him down whenever he starts to rise off you. Aro kisses you, knowing he will be next. You feel Caius' cold hands kneading your breasts and arch your back into them.

An orgasm slams through you just as Marcus fills you with his cold seed. He is careful not to let his full weight on you, then rolls off you, his hand on your stomach while he lies next to you.

With other ideas, Aro lies on your other side, and pulls you on top of him. He brings your legs on either side of his hips, poking at your core with his hard and eager cock.

"Brother!" Caius protests angrily at being usurped. You reach out to touch his thigh, then wrap your hand around his cock, and begin to stroke it with a steady rhythm, tightening your grasp. He thrusts his hips forward into your hand and hisses with every other stroke.

You rise and fall over Aro, taking him into you as deeply as possible. When you start to circle your hips around, Aro's hands grip them, guiding them, rolling them while he thrusts upward, closing his eyes.

Feeling left out, Marcus moves behind you and slipping his fingers into your wet cunt, uses it as lubricant to push a long slender finger into your back hole while Aro fucks your cunt. You gasp and move your hips forward, until Marcus' finger slips out of you. Feeling empty, you push back against him and let him excite you as he wishes.

You pant loudly when Aro's cock causes you to climax hard, his thrusts only stopping when he cums inside you. "Miei dei, amore!" he cries out, before smiling up at you, opening his eyes to enjoy your pleasure expression, as he calls it.

He has barely moved from under you when Caius takes his place, pulling you back atop him. He thrusts in hard, his hands caressing your breasts.

Marcus slides up the bed to your left while you ride Caius, rubbing your back until he can tell you're about to climax again. Your hands press on Caius' chest, your nails unable to dig into his hard marble-like flesh. You cry out once before collapsing on your blonde mate, feeling him cum, his cold emission filling you.

The four of you finally rest, although your mates are fine. They know they can tire you out when you enjoy sex with them. This was more intense for you, and they assume you need rest, then perhaps a hot shower later to relax you.

You ask each of your mates to kiss you, telling them how much you love them. Each in turn whispers in your ear that they will love and adore you forever. Caius dresses and runs to the kitchen to get you a pot of hot tea. Aro cleans you up with a wet towel, while Marcus collects your scattered clothing, knowing you will still want to go to Rome Saturday.

oooooooooo

Saturday arrives, and you're dressed in your sexy Gothic Vampire costume, surrounded by three handsome vampires attired in their battle dress. No one at the convention knows these are real vampires, but they make such a fascinating foursome, many con goers ask to have their pictures taken with the Volturi masters and their human mate.

You laugh happily when Aro agrees to the first request, enjoying the sudden fame. Caius scowls until a pair of pretty young girls stands on either side of him, asking for a picture to be taken by a friend. He smirks and agrees, his arms draping around their shoulders, ignoring the smell of their rich blood.

Even Marcus is finding he has his fair share of admirers. This is very unlike anything he has ever experienced, but when he looks to you and sees you smile and wink at him, he acquiesces and allows costumed fans to have pictures taken with him.

You turn to Aro at some point and warn him, "Do not tell Felix we had fun, or he will hate me forever." Then you grin at him, flashing your fangs, causing Aro to roll his eyes. "Really, my dear?"

The End