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whateverisbeautiful · 7 days

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♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#61: The Happy Ending (1.06)

The Grimes family is reunited.😭🙌🏽

That's it. That's the intro. 😋 Because we just gotta dive right in and break this super rewarding and moving Grimes family reunion all the way down. It's everything. 🥹...

First off - The way we WIN.

After so many years, we really got to witness our babies get their happily ever after with their babies. They won. We won. 🎉😭

And the biggest reason I say we win is because something that we love lives. Richonne's story has been able to live to its fullest potential and in the most captivating and fulfilling way. From the iconic start in TWD to this impactful conclusion in TOWL. 🙌🏽

When working on these TOWL revelings, I tried to have the majority of them written and ready before I even started sharing the posts in July to ensure I’d deliver on my promise and follow through to the end. These final Grimes Family reunion posts are the only ones I put off writing for a while because, as far as we know, this is it. 🥲 The last page we get to see of Richonne’s beautiful years-long story. The last new Richonne scenes to break down and revel in.

Since TOWL was announced as a 6-episode miniseries, I’m currently approaching this final scene as the official conclusion of Richonne's story. I know Andy, Danai, and Scott haven't outright said they're never reprising these roles, and the more I hear their answers to the questions about a return, a part of me thinks they know they're coming back in some capacity, be it a cameo or more, and already have an existing contract perhaps, which is why they can't 'spoil' anything by confirming or denying a return.

The way I view it - if Richonne makes another appearance, I'm absolutely seated and celebratory. And if they don't, I'm absolutely satisfied and grateful for what we got. As the gift that keeps on giving, they've already given us over 10 years of golden Richonne content, and this Grimes Family 2.0 reunion put a lovely bow on top of this gift. 💝 It was truly a beautiful and fitting conclusion to their story. And most of all I want the Grimes Family to get to live happily and at peace together, so I'm more than elated with how Richonne's story comes to a close here. 😇

So, as the broadcast announces “A historic day to begin a new chapter for the Republic” - which of course Rick and Michonne Grimes would be the ones capable of bringing about a fresh, historic, and thriving new chapter for a whole city of thousands - we see a glimpse of Judith sitting beside her walkie. And then I love hearing Michonne on the other end say, “Shoto, it’s Daito.” 🥹

Ahhhhhhh the Grimes family reunion was happening! 🥳🥳🥳 And I'm so glad it's with the original actors too. 😭🙌🏽

I remember there was a period when some were a bit worried that Richonne wouldn't reunite with their kids in TOWL. For me, I felt so sure it was gonna happen because that was the only way Michonne and Rick would feel their mission was successful. And I love how it gets confirmed that they’ll be seeing the kids as soon as we see this walkie-talkie moment.

...Even tho for some of us, the Grimes family reunion was basically confirmed a little earlier, when a certain two illustrious actors filmed a trip down memory lane in Senoia, Georgia. 🤭

Our lovely captains have a sweet little exchange during that great memory lane special that clued me in on what to expect. There's a part where Danai is talking about Judith and RJ and how she loved seeing Judith with the mini sword on her back. Then, as others also picked up on, Danai said something to Andy about how now Cailey has nearly outgrown the sword, and she seemed to think Andy could co-sign that she has. And that had my extra self’s ears perking up. 😋

Because Andy had been having to work double time to recall some TWD scenes he was actually a part of during this trip down memory lane - so I said to myself - Self, it is highly unlikely that he knows if Cailey, who he never had scenes with, is now outgrowing the sword…unless he’s already filmed a scene with her wearing the sword. 😏

gif cred: @nerd4music

So yeah, after that I was no longer even 1% unsure if Richonne would have their family reunion. It was happening. 💯 And the way it happened is Love personified. 👏🏽💗

It had to be such a euphoric moment for Judith to finally, after over a year, hear her mom on the other end of that walkie that she said she'd always keep with her. And it had to be euphoric for Michonne to no longer get static but finally get her baby girl on the other end. 🥹

I remember it was emotional watching Michonne and Judith's final walkie-talkie conversation in TWD, especially knowing they'd eventually fall out of range. And so it was a great feeling to see their walkies finally make a connection again.

I like the way it’s shot with the walkie on the steps and Rick’s holster and gun on Judith’s hip. Again, Michonne summed it up perfectly when she said Judith is her and Rick. And it’s sweet seeing Judith immediately grab the walkie when she hears her mom’s voice.

Also knowing Michonne was able to reach Judith on the walkie, I think this would definitely imply that Rick was able to talk to or at least hear Judith before they see each other in person. I’d be so curious what that very first exchange over the walkies was like between Michonne, Judith, and Rick. I'd imagine it was quite emotional for Rick to hear Judith's voice on the other end for the first time. 🥲

So then there’s the return of Rick’s battle-tested cowboy boots as he steps off the helicopter. And I really like the way it’s shot as we just see his feet first and then Michonne’s feet join him. It feels like yet another way to illustrate and celebrate that Rick is no longer alone. The love of his life found him and now they really will be by each other's side for pretty much all things going forward.

gif cred: @taiturner

As TV's greatest husband and wife step off the helicopter, we get to see Rick and Michonne more fully and I adore that they’re holding hands. 🥰 They always look so married. And as has been established, holding hands is one of Richonne's favorite things.

And then you know we gotta take a moment for Michonne’s outfit 🔥🔥🔥. Cutest outfit she’s ever worn. 👏🏽 I LOVE it. 🤩

gif cred: @alwaysthequietones

It’s great how they chose something that feels both fresh but also so true to Michonne for her final outfit and it just feels like she’s again getting to return to herself through the clothing. A fashion It Girl, through and through. 💅🏽

Michonne stayed proving an apocalypse does not have to stop you from stylishly color-coordinating and accessorizing. And I love the cowrie shells being back in her hair too. One of the last times she wore cowrie shells - a symbol of fertility - RJ arrived shortly after. So of course seeing the shells in this finale had my Richonne baby fever activated. 😋 It’s also great she got her katana back as well. That sword will always find its way back to its Mama Michonne. 👌🏽

And I of course also love that Michonne and Rick are wearing matching colors. A signature Richonne thing to the end. 😌 And Rick and Michonne matching in that tan color is great because the color scheme is giving "Must've been something else then." 😊

Then, I think it’s such a touching and well-acted moment when, before we even see the kids, we can tell that Richonne has spotted their kids from the way they react. 😭

Something about the way Michonne holds Rick's hand and then runs to her babies just feels like such a wife and mother and it’s so sweet. Like if you showed this running clip out of context to someone unfamiliar with the show, I feel they'd immediately be able to tell that who Michonne and Rick are running to is their children.

I love how Michonne drops her bag and just immediately runs to the kids. And then it’s precious that Rick sees his children for the first time and drops his bag as he eagerly runs to them as well. Goodness, this whole thing is just heartwarming x10, I can’t. 🫠

gif cred: @nat111love

And it gets extra heartwarming when we see Judith and RJ for the first time, sprinting to their parents with the biggest smiles on their faces. 😭😭😭 Richonne's babies are here. 🥹

gif cred: @alwaysthequietones

The way I rejoiced seeing the adorable Grimes kids running the first time I watched. 🙌🏽 I love seeing how ecstatic they are and the way Judith looks back at her little brother as they run. A true big sister. And of course, I adore that Judith is wearing the sword like her mom and her gun in her holster like her dad and that RJ is wearing his dad's signature Sherriff hat and dressed like little Carl. It’s all so perfect. 🥹

And for me, watching this scene would be the hardest Try Not To Tear Up challenge yet, because the way Judith and RJ smile and run into Michonne’s arms, and the three embrace - My heart bursts. 😭❤️‍🩹

gif cred: @riickgrimes

They all hold so tightly to each other and it’s precious. For a long while, the only Grimes family Judith and RJ had been used to was just the three of them. So it’s really sweet that the three of them have a moment to reunite after missing each other for so long. RJ's smile and Judith's face when she hugs her mom always makes me want to cry.

gif cred: @nat111love

(Side note: There are people out there who ignorantly discredit and downplay Judith and Michonne’s mother/daughter relationship and that will forever be foolish to me (though sadly not surprising 😪). Judith has only ever known life with Michonne, and Michonne has been raising Judith since before she could walk. Their mom/daughter status cannot be denied. Interestingly, Judith is the one Grimes kid who has only ever known life with both Rick and Michonne. Carl was old enough to recall when Michonne entered his life. RJ is old enough to recall when Rick entered his life. But Judith doesn’t recall when either entered her life because her parents have been raising her since she was in diapers. They’re the only mom and dad she’s ever recognized. Yes, Judith knows Michonne didn’t birth her but that’s not the only qualification one needs to be a mom. In every other way, Michonne has been Judith’s mom for as long as she can remember. So when Judith looks at Michonne it’s clear she sees her mom, not 'the woman who looks after her', not her 'play mom' - her mom. 👌🏽)

I love that Michonne gets her own moment to reunite with her kids and that they let that moment breathe. Michonne is the anchor to this reunion as they all look to her as the connecting piece of this family right now. It’s realistic for the kids to take their time greeting Michonne because that’s the only parent they really know.

And just like Rick and Michonne had to do a lot of sacrificing on this journey, so did Judith and RJ.

These kids sacrificed valuable time with their mom so that she could go bring their dad back home. So I love that they get to have a moment of being just so elated to be back in their mom’s arms.

Rick stands in the back of the shot, as he anxiously awaits greeting his kids. I know Rick appreciated seeing this moment between the three and immediately seeing that his kids love and view Michonne just as highly as he does. He got yet another reminder that he chose the perfect woman to be the mother of his kids seeing the way his babies beamed and ran in Michonne's arms. 😊

gif cred: @riickgrimes

And then it is again so precious when Michonne and the kids look at each other and whisper "Hi" and just again have these joyous smiles on their faces.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

RJ’s quiet little ‘hi,’ 🥹 Michonne asking how they’re doing and acknowledging they’ve got so big since she last saw them, 🥹 the way they can’t help but smile and laugh, 🥹 and then when Michonne and Judith put their heads together. 🥹 I love every second.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Michonne finally gets to hold the two who fueled her to keep going even in the moments during this TOWL journey where it felt like all was lost. She was not going to let her kids down and she was going to ensure she made it back to them.And Judith and RJ knew their mom would make it back to them too, no matter how long it took.

I also love seeing Michonne’s M bracelet in the shot. Again, she really came back adorned with gifts from her husband because Rick loves her the way a cherished wife should be loved. And of all the gifts Rick has given Michonne, we know she cherishes most the gift of their children. 💛

gif cred: @riickgrimes

It really is beautiful how we went from Michonne telling Carl one kid was enough for her to her now having four kids (…and counting possibly). And I love the way it's visible how Michonne's soul just lights up so brightly as she holds her kids in her arms.

So as the three embrace, Rick stands back and watches his beautiful family. And the way Rick is looking at them, it’s clear this is all so surreal for him.

It makes sense that Rick would hang back for the reunion as Michonne has a moment with their kids. It reminds me of how on Carl’s last day, Rick approached it like he understood Michonne and Carl needed their time together as a mother and son because he knew he was losing his son and Michonne was too. Also, it's evident during this reunion that Rick wants to be mindful of whatever contact Judith and RJ want with him.

So Judith gives one more smile over at her brother and mom, as Michonne adorably lifts up RJ’s hat and embraces her baby boy, who is not such a baby anymore, saying, “Hi there.”

And then Judith turns to Rick with a smile. As they look at each other, Judith becomes emotional and starts to cry. She walks to Rick and finally, after all this time, gets to embrace her dad. 🥹

gif cred: @twdfranchise

Y’all, there is a reason I put off writing these reunion posts for so long. 😭 This entire scene between these four makes me emotional for so many reasons.

I think it’s so sweet that Rick is letting his kids set the tone for how they want to interact with him in this scene. You know if it were up to him, he’d probably be bawling and pulling them into an embrace, but he also knows that he’s in some ways a stranger to them now. So the thoughtful way Andy plays it, I love that it’s clear Rick wants to let the kids decide what they’re comfortable with. And the second Rick knows they want to hug him, he so tenderly and lovingly hugs them back. 🥹

gif cred: @twdfranchise

The way he hugs Judith, you see how layered this moment is for Rick because he’s so happy to be back with his daughter and also sad to see just how much he’s missed as she’s done a lot of growing up in his absence.

Plus, during his time with the CRM, Rick had to devastatingly accept that he may never see Judith again and even tried to convince himself that maybe she'd be safer if he didn't come home to her and protected her from afar. I feel like hugging Judith right now, Rick probably feels so overcome with emotion knowing that he's actually getting to hold his daughter after thinking he'd never get this chance again.

Hearing Judith cry as she hugs him and seeing the fatherly way Rick holds her head and tries to hold it together while clearly feeling so many emotions. I cannot. ❤️‍🩹 My heart is moved during each part of this Grimes family reunion.

While still hugging him, Judith emotionally says, “I knew it, Dad. I knew you were still out there.” It’s so sweet that this is the first thing she says and that Rick gets to hear that Judith never lost her hope that Rick was alive.

gif cred: @twdfranchise

While Rick came close to ending it a few times during his years away, he managed to stay another day and then another after that and another after that, and I like to think that day by day he was somehow subconsciously being fueled by his wife and kids belief in him. They believed he was still out there and that energy helped keep him here long enough to now be back with them again.

I also love how no one ever came and took Rick’s place in his family’s life because these three Grimes were always believing Rick was still out there. Judith held onto this faith that her dad was alive even when the odds of Rick being alive seemed low. It feels like Michonne modeled that example to her of continuing to believe. And their belief was worth the wait. 🥹

And then Judith looks up at Rick and says, "I just never wanted you to feel alone.” It moves me so much that while Rick was afar hoping Judith was okay, he now gets to know that his daughter had been hoping he was okay too. 🥲

gif cred: @twdfranchise

As a big sister myself, I just gotta say Cailey plays the big sister role so well. Especially when you’re the family-oriented and responsible big sister, you always just want to make sure everyone is okay. Your younger siblings, your parents, aunts, uncles, everybody. And I love that Judith’s big thing was wanting to be sure her dad never felt alone. That’s so caring. 😭

I also feel like her saying this is her reiterating why she encouraged her mom to go after Rick. On the walkies in Michonne's last full TWD episode, Judith told Michonne, "What if he's trying to come home too, but no one will help?" And she was spot on with that prediction. In TOWL ep 3, Rick even verbalized to Michonne that he had asked for help, but he didn't get it.

So even though it made Judith really sad to be away from her mom, she knew Rick might be alone and in need of Michonne's help even more. Never wanting her dad to feel alone was among the many reasons Judith urged Michonne to go get him.

And another thing that's poetic to me is that Judith is such a pivotal character in getting Rick and Michonne to meet the way they did. Had Glenn and Maggie not gone out to the store to get Judith's formula, Michonne wouldn't have run into them and brought the formula to the prison for her future daughter. Also, even the very night Rick and Michonne became an official romantic couple in 6.10, their couch moment began with smiling over Judith on the baby monitor.

Since she was born, Judith has helped ensure her dad didn't feel alone because her very existence played a part in Rick finding his ultimate life partner and soulmate, Michonne.

So next, Rick says his first words to Judith in years when he looks at her and says, “I thought I was..."

I like that he's honest about how he did think he was alone at first. There definitely was a time when Rick was confronted with the depths of loneliness within the CRM.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Rick continues, "Then I realized..." and I love that he looks over at Michonne as he says this. And the way Michonne holds RJ while smiling at Rick and Judith interacting again for the first time in years. 🥲

All those years in TWD, Michonne saw how much Rick loved Judith, and so it clearly means a lot to her to see Rick face to face with their daughter again. Rick and Michonne both just seem so present and grateful for this moment as parents.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Rick looks over at Michonne, knowing how instrumental his wife was in both his daughter being who she is today and in helping him realize what he says next - "I wasn’t.” 🥹

It’s really nice to see that Rick realized he was never alone because he always had his family.

When Rick tells Judith that he realized he wasn’t alone, Judith gets to hear Rick essentially say he realized her own little mantra that she wrote on her family drawing, “My family is always with me.”

Judith and Rick both know the sadness of losing your loved ones' memory, but I’m so glad they now have each other back to affirm that while the memory can seem lost, it can always be found again.

gif cred: @andremichaux

Also the way Rick says this line with such a tender tone and tears in his eyes and then he looks at Judith with a smile and blinks probably still trying to comprehend that this little lady in front of him is the daughter he last saw as a toddler. 😭

gif cred: @alwaysthequietones

And then Judith cries again as she leans in and hugs Rick and I’m a puddle of tears inside. Like when you think about how hard Rick fought for his daughter all those years on TWD, it’s just so special to now see him get to hold her and already get a glimpse of the great loving person she’s turned out to be.

I know Judith is about to feel so loved and protected by this great dad, and I love thinking about how they’ll now get to reestablish their bond and just have the best father-daughter relationship.

It hit me that years ago, we got to see the very first time both Rick and Michonne ever held baby Judith and how it was a big moment for both of them. While she stirred up painful memories from their past, Judith was also this little bundle of hope for the future in their arms.

And then in this TOWL finale, we beautifully got to see Rick and Michonne hold Judith in their embrace one more time. 🥹

Michonne reuniting with her son and daughter and Rick reuniting with his baby girl were such golden TOWL moments.

With these touching exchanges, the Grimes Family reunions had all occurred. And now it was time for the big Grimes Family introduction. It was time for Rick to finally meet Rick. 😭

So we gotta bring it on home now and talk about the special, heartfelt, and rewarding final moment of The Ones Who Live. 🥰👌🏽

#richonne #towl #reveling in richonne #1.06 #RIR (61)#the ones who live #twd towl #michonne grimes #rick grimes #rick x michonne #twol #michonne #rick and michonne #twd: the ones who live #twd #richonnefandom

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d1xonss · 7 months

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Desert Rose

Series Masterlist ~ Seasons 1-5

✧ Media : The Walking Dead

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x OC

✧ Status : Ongoing

Warnings : Mentions of blood, death, gore, swearing, sex, violence, etc.

Prologue ~ When a zombie apocalypse breaks out and wipes over half of the population, Rose is left alone to take on this new world as it unfolds. She knew it would be difficult, for things to not work out the way they once did, turning in ways she never would've expected. But what she really didn't expect was to come across more survivors like her. Not only that, but the journey that would come right along with it.

Disclaimer ~ This is a fan fiction I wrote that follows the TV show The Walking Dead, Seasons 1-11. This mainly follows the entirety of the plot of the show, but there will be little changes here and there that I've added on my own. There may be some disturbing topics in some chapters, but there will always be a warning at the top before you read. I don’t own any of the characters in the series except for my OC. As of now the story is not complete, but there will be weekly updates. Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

Hope you enjoy!

Character Moodboards

Season 1 ~ Moodboard

Chapter 1 - Introductions

Chapter 2 - Who the Hell are You?

Chapter 3 - Opening up

Chapter 4 - One Long Day

Chapter 5 - Decisions

Chapter 6 - Metallica

Chapter 7 - Overthinking

Chapter 8 - Panic Room

Season 2 ~ Moodboard

Chapter 9 - Sophia?

Chapter 10 - Darkness

Chapter 11 - The Farm

Chapter 12 - Cherokee Rose

Chapter 13 - Hey Stranger

Chapter 14 - Thank you

Chapter 15 - Heart Attack

Chapter 16 - It ain't like that

Chapter 17 - Guitar lessons and confessions

Chapter 18 - Gone

Chapter 19 - Goodbye

Chapter 20 - Stay

Chapter 21 - Randall

Chapter 22 - Scars

Chapter 23 - Broken

Chapter 24 - Good Mourning

Chapter 25 - The Herd

Chapter 26 - Reunited

Season 3 ~ Moodboard

Chapter 27 - New Beginnings

Chapter 28 - Stranger Danger

Chapter 29 - Shit happens

Chapter 30 - Three little words

Chapter 31 - Happy Birthday

Chapter 32 - Avoiding Me

Chapter 33 - Woodbury

Chapter 34 - Come with me

Chapter 35 - Hey Jude

Chapter 36 - The Attack

Chapter 37 - Welcome Back

Chapter 38 - Worries and Apologies

Chapter 39 - Going to War

Chapter 40 - The Deal

Chapter 41 - Peace

Season 4 ~ Moodboard

Chapter 42 - Wildflower Wildfire

Chapter 43 - The Honeymoon Phase

Chapter 44 - Little Things

Chapter 45 - All Good things Must come to an End

Chapter 46 - I’m Here

Chapter 47 - Infected

Chapter 48 - In Sickness and In Health

Chapter 49 - Blood runs Thicker than Water

Chapter 50 - Bring me to Life

Chapter 51 - Liar

Chapter 52 - We’re Okay

Chapter 53 - The Pretty Purple Clip

Chapter 54 - Claimed

Chapter 55 - Moonshine and Memories

Chapter 56 - Alone

Chapter 57 - Found

Season 5 ~ Moodboard

Chapter 58 - As Deep as a Wound

Chapter 59 - The Priest

Chapter 60 - Just Married

Chapter 61 - White Crosses

Chapter 62 - Deafening Cries

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yuurei20 · 4 days

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Twisted Wonderland Story Quiz Compilation

The "Twisted Wonderland Story Quiz" is a book published in May of 2024 that consists of 147 questions from the first three chapters of the mobile game (plus prologue).

Changes made to the English-language adaptation of the game mean that there are some questions that will catch EN players by surprise, as correct answers for the original game are not always correct for EN.

And these are those questions!

・Q#5: Whose butt caught on fire from Grim's magic at the opening ceremony?

・Q#44: On his way back to the kitchen Deuce and some delinquent students bump into one another, breaking the eggs that Deuce had just bought. Who does Deuce tell the students to apologize to?

・Question #54: What are Riddle's parents' occupations?

・Question #57: As Trey worries about the first-year students, who does Deuce say they should square off against?

・Question #59: Grim and the others go to the cafeteria, which is crowded because a bakery from the foothill town is selling baked goods. Grim cuts in line and buys the last one of something. What was it?

・Question #60: Ruggie has come to buy lunch for Leona, and he approaches Grim (who is holding what he wants) about trading for a different baked good. What did Grim get in exchange?

・Question #61: Reaching an agreement with Grim, Ruggie seemed to be having fun. How did Ruggie laugh?

・Question #78: Cater and the others go to Savanaclaw in order to check on Jack, a potential target for the recent attacks happening on campus. After finding a student who fits Jack’s description, how does Grim call out to him?

・Question #81: Jack says, “If you seriously applied yourself, you could stand against Diasomnia” to Leona and Ruggie, who are playing dirty. Leona becomes irritated—who did Leona think Jack sounded like?

・Question #132: Ace distracts a guard while the Prefect and others sneak in to the Atlantica Memorial Museum, which was unfortunately closed. Ace excitedly compliments mermaids—what does the guard say to him?

・Question 139: After being called 'Deuce-chan,’ Deuce asks Cater to not add ‘-chan’ to his name. In response Trey says, 'That’s how Cater 〇〇.' What did Trey say?

#twst translations #twisted wonderland #twstlanguage

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rise-my-angel · 25 days

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Heart of the Great Wolf

61 - Scattered Pieces of Truth

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

Length: 18.6k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, past traumas, past character death, possessive tendencies, smut, handjobs, p in v, accidental voyeurism,

Notes: You may notice that leading up to a certain accidental incident, that I didn't build up to it with a horribly ill fitting contrast of beheading a toddler. Take notes, Condal. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

To the few in the room, the sight could be seen as a rather strange one. At least in context. To Olly, you had been introduced in his life as a fierce figure commanding an authority which granted him mercy at what he felt like was the end of his path. You offered him empathy and forgiveness but showed none of the same to Ser Alliser Throne and beheaded him the day you had arrived. In a way you were the image of an intimidating Queen to the boy in ways stories only whispered about Targaryean women of the past. But in other ways, you also were the closest thing to a mother he had left.

Counting his blessings, Olly knew that whatever older brother sort of figure he had once seen in Jon, he had ruined the night he shoved a dagger through his heart. But yet somehow you took Olly in regardless, and found a place back in the world for him when many times over he felt as if he lost his. So to him, being allowed to stand at your side in moments like this were odd, a side of you he had only ever seen before in memories of his own mother. Perhaps he was a bit jealous, but after he had done everything to warrant you executing him, you took him in as your own and kept him by your side so that he served someone who understood his complications.

On the other hand, he was not the only traitor in the mix whom you spared. Theon stood with a life so vastly different then the one he once lived, he felt practically a stranger to him. The day Ramsay Snow had sent him into Moat Cailin to negotiate the other Ironborn to surrender, he could remember such a wave of conflict. The way blood was spit into his face and called a woman for trying to say there was honour in a fair defeat. How on one side he could hear himself trying to voice through a shaking in his muscles that he was actually Reek, but then he would also stand there and see you.

In the dungeons of the Dreadfort, sickly, ill, covered in so much sweat, grime, and blood that he almost did not recognize you. The way you had tore your head up from hiding in your arms with tears staining your cheeks as he told you he didn’t actually murder Bran and Rickon. The way you looked at his state, his circumstances and he knew you had forgiven him. How no one had called him Theon Greyjoy but you. When one man had murdered the commander in order to desperately accept Theons terms, he had remembered who he felt like next to you and Robb. Someone who could be better then his worst parts, only to have Ramsay lead his men in and flay them all alive.

Theon had stood silent as Ramsay wrapped an arm around his shoulders insisting that traditions were important, as to why he had done it. But all he could do was stand there. Not even shaking or twitching as he normally would. He wasn’t really Reek then, he was Theon. And afterwards when they had returned to the Dreadfort to prepare the move to Winterfell was when Roose Bolton gave Ramsay his legitimization from King Tommen.

Once Ramsay was no longer a Snow, the less Reek did Theon feel on the inside, and the more he felt determined to not let Ramsay turn you into that either.

Finding the only bravery he had in years, Theon had shot Myranda in the back with arrows to stop her from attacking you. When you had found your only bravery in you, you plunged a kitchen knife so deep into her mouth that you had been covered in her blood for days. All he could do was hear how close you both were to being caught and how frozen in fear you were. How weak as he was Theon managed to find that strength, he had picked you up to jump from the battlements, a height you yourself had once hoped would kill you. He had shaken you out of your daze, and Theon never forgot that what convinced you to stand with him and run wasn’t even the promise that he was taking you to safety or taking you to Jon.

What got you up and standing was Theon offering his hand and promising that he wouldn’t leave you behind. Yet if he looked back then and seeing now, it was night and day. Not a hint of the same person stood there and it was difficult for Theon to put into proper thoughts. The relief of being able to witness you getting to this point, but also the conflict of truth coming this way, quite literally.

Of course, for all of them, Maester Wolkan saw it in the most direct way. He hadn’t met you before, or after escape. Hardly days had passed by the time he was summoned to the dungeons to examine you, since you had awoken to new life. He had seen you at every part of your worst. Once he had walked out in the courtyards here in Winterfell to a scene of Ramsay. Your dress torn off, shivering in a short shift in the snow as Ramsay had knocked you to the ground and threatened to slice the remainder off when he had to interject. Saying that marrying you would not be possible if the boy let you freeze to death.

He had shoved you to the snow even more as he got up to storm away, Wolkan managing to get you gently to your feet and covered to guide you inside but had so little reaction from you. Numb like your skin felt bare in the freezing air. Most of that year he knew you, there was not a hint of life in your eyes, and it was truly a feat he could claim saying you were the saddest girl he’d ever known. Yet here you were now, something nowhere near that sight.

A smile bright and shining on your face as you looked down to little Eddard, toying with his small kicking feet as if to tickle the bottoms of them each time he got to wiley. It had been close to a week passing since arriving home and Maester Wolkan had insisted on seeing the baby again to check both his health and state of growth. Question after question and it seemed the little one had gotten fussy laying there on his own.

Causing you now as Wolkan made his final examination for the day, you had knelt down closer so your eye level was more with where the baby lay. Hands always on him in one way or another, distracting him sometimes long enough that Wolkan could do something that might have otherwise been distressing. Or leaning up closer to his forehead with a kiss and gentle shushes to soothe him or pull out a small babble.

He was much how he was in your womb, a constant trouble maker. Always demanding of your attention, but the more affirmations he was healthy, the better you felt. The less as if you feared you had doomed your son to a difficult, short life simply because you had birthed him for too early. At the very least however, with both Theon and Olly in the room, you would be spared any questions regarding yourself for now. The less you thought about your state of mind, the better.

“I suspect within a fortnight, the little Prince will have caught up in growth to any other infant his age should be.” Glancing up to your side, your hands almost automatically moving around little Eddards grabbing insistence to dress him properly and warm once more. The others had been correct, there had been more then enough people around Winterfell and Winter Town whom wished to bring gifts and clothes to the newborn.

Nodding a bit, you had glanced down every now and again to give a little narrow eyed smirk to the trouble maker before finally giving him what he wanted. Carefully picking up him in your arms and resting him carefully up high on your front, as it seemed your neck and shoulder being his favourite place to hide away. “And you’re certain there is nothing more I could be doing to help with that?”

Shaking his head, Wolkan reached out to very playfully nudge a knuckle against the baby’s cheek whom both gave a small amusing sound but also squirmed closer to you at the same time as if he couldn’t decide. “You and the King have done a tremendous job in the face of a very unfavourable start. I assure you there is nothing more you need do then what you are right now.” Face only falling troubled a small it you clarified in asking if it was normal that at this young he seemed so shy. “Many highborns are surrounded by people all day and night when they are born. Always attended to by many, they get used to it rather quickly as a result. Little Eddard however had a start very reliant on his mother and father alone. It is only natural he will take more time to get used to being around as many as he is living in a castle.”

Glancing down, you could see his little hands mindlessly grasping at strands of your hair that sat closer to your shoulder. Almost holding it close to him as a young one may do with a plush toy, the thought no doubt crossing your mind if what happened had made him too reliant on you. Which was not at all what you wanted, people thinking you were raising your son to depend on his mother rather then grow up learning to be strong and stand on his own. Boys like Joffery, raised without being taught what being a leader entailed and hid behind his mothers skirts at every instance he could not yell and shout into getting his way.

The flash across Wolkans face with the growing concern of doubt on yours had you stand up straighter before the issue could be even slightly brought to your attention from his point of view. “I thank you, Maester Wolkan. I know you have much else on your plate, I won’t keep your time any further.”

Always a man not perturbed by dismissal in your manner, he was nothing but understanding likely of what you avoided. “No thanks needed, your grace. This is exactly what I am here for.” A nod given, before turning and gesturing to Olly to make leave, knowing Theon would follow.

At this point, even if you told him not too. Nevermore were he and Jon on the same page then when it came to watching you like a hawk. If it wasn’t Jon it was Ghost, if it wasn’t Ghost it was Theon. And somehow if it were neither of them, you still could not shake that feeling like eyes kept following you. The wrappings around your healing hands were cause for some concern, but not enough you couldn’t figure out why it felt as if eyes all around were watching you.

The only people who knew so far of the other day were Bran, Jon, and yourself. No one else had any reason to think they should keep an eye on you for that purpose, and yet they still did. It was odd for some to watch you of all people so motherly with such an easy smile attached, as it was odd for you to grasp the idea that it was somehow more complicated and difficult being back here then it had been for months out alone in the far North.

Another pair of eyes though, scoured the letter sent his way. The pile which came before were all of mystery, this one of answer, and yet it all felt as complicated as before.

Everything was complicated. Jon couldn’t condemn you nor Bran for what you were not saying about what occurred yesterday. He wasn’t even so sure Bran understood whatever he had spent over a year doing that far North. These sights, these visions Jon had. They always felt different then the way you’d describe yours. The dreams different too. Jon had walked your dreams, you never did his. Jon had never found himself lost in whatever visions he saw, he was here and saw there. It felt like it matched more of what Bran was experiencing then you, but if Bran didn’t really understand what this all was, Jon knew he had not a chance for himself. Let alone expecting you to explain it to him in ways he could grasp.

Instead, Jon focused on other things. Things which he’d rather not but were right in front of him. Or, the thing, the person. The man with the pin of a mockingbird attached to his cloak wandering his home as if he had a plan that would fall into place. Out of everything Petyr Baelish had done, he was smart enough to lie and cover his tracks to the point he stood in the Stark home as if he were not an enemy.

Both men were well aware Jon did not fall for it, but that made it worse. He already knew to navigate the suspicions of a man whom did not trust him. There was little Jon could prove, and what he could had to be careful. He and Arya had debated it just hours earlier.

Irate and pacing in his study, only Arya felt comfortable enough with Jon to rant and rave and yell the manner which she did. It wasn’t personal, so Jon felt no reason to tell her to calm down. With her, that would certainly not calm her any way. “We know everything he’s done to the point we could write a book about it. How is that not enough?”

Gloved hands braced against the wood of his desk, Jon stood behind it looking at her with a lower, more firm tone. “We can’t just accuse him of anything, you know that. If I drag him into court and throw nothing but accusations I can’t prove at him, he walks out of our walls for good.”

Arya’s face scrunched in frustration, Jon did know the feeling to well. An antsy sensation as if to physically fight back against a man only capable of mastering the art of mind games. Your name coming from her mouth, Jon too could sense the strong anger over it. “What he tried to do to her, and you think it’s safer having him here?”

A pit of something dark sat in Jons stomach. You had gone to take the baby to see Wolkan, he knew where you were and who was with you. He needed to swallow down that swirling void telling him to never let you out of his sight. Saying that to you was one thing, but to control you to that degree was another no matter what a specific part of himself said. Pushing through, a roughness was no doubt evident in his voice. “He almost had her killed when he was a thousand miles away in the Vale. I don’t know who he controls out there, but I know the limit of his reach here.” As soon as Arya tried to argue back, Jon continued on. “And if I accuse him now and can’t prove it, if I banish him from Winterfell or the North, Sansa leaves with him.”

Stopping in her tracks, Jon recognized the hesitation in her eyes attempting to smooth over with indifference. “You don’t know that. She came all the way back here, why would she leave if-”

Cutting her off, Jon felt uncomfortable with the why, but he explained it regardless. Arya needed to understand the gravity of the problem, even if he was hiding it from you. “Haven’t you wondered why even though you two spent your whole childhoods arguing about everything, why is it now it seems Sansa is only interested in fighting with me?”

The hesitation again he knew, she hadn’t quite considered that until then. “She’s just upset about learning she has no claim.” That was more of an excuse of cope and both knew it.

Jon just had to be the one to vocalize it more then he had to you. “Littlefinger knows he can’t manipulate me into giving him what he wants.” Your name coming from his lips, “And he can’t just try to do it with her either, with how much of a past they both know about. He’s smarter then that. His only chance is to use Sansa. And put her against me. And who’s the easiest person to do that with right now?”

Your name came from both of them, Jon in a tense frustration, Arya in a sort of defeat.

Walking around his desk, Jon leaned back to it’s front. Arms crossing in front of him as he watched Arya cease her pacing before he continue. Arya first asking how he was doing that. “I’m a bastard. It’s easy to find things about bastards to look down on.” Demanding more of what specifically, he knew that these sorts of things to Arya of all people, were not what she’d ever consider. Certainly not now. “I’m a bastard, married to a highborn girl. Who before me, was married to my highborn brother. If you’re assuming the worst about me, what does that look like?”

Face twisting into disbelief, Arya tried fighting back. “She knows you better then that, Sansa knows you’d never force anyone into being with you-”

The truth though hurt more then that, far more. “She doesn’t think I forced her into anything. All Littlefinger needs to do, is give Sansa the idea and she let it grow on her own.” It always came back to you, and he hated it. “People look down at me like I’m a liar, like I’m manipulative on purpose. If you tell someone bastards are born from sin, it’s not too hard to convince that person that I seduced her into being with me for my own benefit.”

It did take a good moment for Arya to connect what he was implying, but Jon knew it. The signs all begun to point to it, and now he was sure. The easiest way to keep Sansa from accepting the circumstances of Robb disinheriting her, is to use the one person Sansa always looked up to as an older sister and paint her as a victim of a bastard’s lust and deceit. To convince her that Jon was using you to keep his title and favour amongst his men. And Jon returning to Winterfell with you and a newborn made that look worse.

He and you had joked of it on the ship home from Dragonstone, but it was true. It is far harder to separate a King and a Queen from one another, if the man gifts her a child. And a son and heir no less. “I was always protective of her, but now it’s different..it’s..more intense and to someone looking for the worst in me-”

Finishing for him, again Arya’s tone had been defeat and a tinge of frustration, understandably. “It just looks like you’re controlling her.”

Jon was protective of you, possessive to the point sometimes he wondered if controlling you that way would make things easier for you, so you didn’t have to worry. But he also knew that wasn’t right, that wasn’t the part of him that Ned Stark raised. He struggled already, having to be apart from you during the day when for over six months he had you all to himself every single hour, but this was something else. This was a despising burning feeling in his heart at being apart from you, wanting you to just stay beside him and listen to what he told you for your own good.

He didn’t want to be that way, but a dark part of him always felt now like it would be so much safer for you if you did, even though the man in him knew that wouldn’t be good for you in every other way. He had tried to vocalize it to you in a softer way, and you had tried to dissuade him from such thoughts, but it continued to fester. Those parts of Jon that Sansa was worried for you about, weren’t made from nothing. Because part of Jon was that way, or wanted to be that way with you. She was just wrong about the why.

Being a bastard had nothing to do with this obsessive feeling. Just the blood running through his veins.

Sitting there now, Jon knew he had to still be careful. Sansa was his sister, and she belonged here, in her home with her family, but if Jon made the wrong move or was too bold too early, she might leave and not return. And with what winter storms approached, Jon knew that couldn’t be an option. He had to be careful, he had to stick to not only what he could prove, but what he had the right to prove.

Littlefinger had done many things, but Jon knew if he was using you to manipulate Sansa against him, if Jon could prove to his sister that the man tried to have you killed, that would sway her. Perhaps make her realize the extent of the manipulative things he spoke about Jon. Proving in a trial that Petyr Baelish had orchestrated an attempt on the Queen in the North’s life was as good of something to end this shadow he held on the Stark family, then every other crime he’s committed.

But between Jon and Arya, both knew they had a good chance at finding a conclusive way to do that, he just had to be quick about it, and somehow he needed to get it across to Sansa that even if just for the trial, she needed to trust him. Whatever other problems the two of them would have after, could be dealt with later. Right now, he needed to ensure two things alone.

Making Littlefinger pay for his crimes, and ensuring those crimes would not bring his little sister down with him. So as he wrote a raven to send off, Jon knew this was just one of the many people whom he needed to reach out too. His father would have done this as thoroughly and as properly as he could, and so Jon would do no less then that.

Jon just had to remind himself, he was only like one father. Not the other. He didn’t know how he’d handle being more like one then the other, so if he refused to think about it, maybe it this one problem would just disappear.

If only Jon didn’t spend most of the next hours after that, tense trying to figure out where you were and who you were with, and certainly not summon you to his side like a servant just to appease that darkness. Though as he descended the dark steps down further into the undergrounds, Jon did for once that day, find himself grateful that you were not here.

He knew what his men had informed him of, and for all accounts, she had been acting quite a good prisoner. Her brother in law had not protested any of it, nor did the members of House Ryswell. Jon had laid out very publicly what he was accusing her of, informed them he had the written evidence to back himself up, and his men had taken up in defence when she had suddenly stood from her seat in an aggression.

Having written to Lord Dustin and Lord Ryswell both, he knew the options were there. They were not protesting to her having been in Winterfell's dungeons these months, but he also did not wish for his time spent as her jailer, to be seen as keeping her from everyone else she knew.

Dark eyes peeking from more messy dark hair, Jon could see Barbrey Dustin while physically looked more worse for wear, she did not appear to be in ill health. Fed proper meals twice a day, accommodate her needs within reason, and allow her to be attended too should she need aid in her health. But according to Maege, she had not been much of any fuss. Kept to herself, and didn’t speak to anyone on the matters she was arrested for.

If Jon were honest, he was not expecting any respecting gesture whatsoever, nor would he really blame a prisoner for not doing so. Yet she with an expression twisted into her permanent frowning scowl, stood up with ease, and gave a half effort curtsy. “Your Grace.”

A nod back, Jons response seemed to act as fair permission to sit once more. “My lady.”

Coming closer, circles under her eyes were prominent, but they looked less hateful then the day she glared up at him being accused of a crime. Jon had not spoken to you what they had discussed alone, but just enough to ensure that he got the information he needed. Information, which was to be of use in a different way he ever intended to use it. Her voice came out more in a strained husk as if speaking was more on the side of foreign to her at this point. “It has been many months since I’ve had any sort of visitor. The last I expected of them would be yourself.”

Jumping right into the point, Jon spoke with an even tone and not with much in the way of easing her into his purpose. “Are you aware that for the past week, Lord Petyr Baelish has been in Winterfell?” Past the dim shadows casting onto her with firelight, Jon may have been able to more clearly see her skin pale, her shoulders stiffen. “He returned my sister Sansa, now that it is safe in the North for her.”

Both were patient in the silence, and the flickering away of Barbreys eyes spoke many stories all doused in a degree of fear until a more push for sternness came through. “I called you a fool once, I suspect needing to do so again for thinking that is all his intentions, would be unnecessary?” Only a single nod, and it forced her to find her words. Switching between looking up at him and drawing away in thought as if the fear had only just occurred to her. “So, what? Are you here to feed me to the wolves?” A breath passed between as she tilted her head in almost an amusement for herself. “Or, so to speak.”

Once more, Jon did not bother addressing the worst of whatever she would say to him. Pandering to her ire was not how he got a full and fair confession out of her, and he would not start now. “Lord Baelish has done more to hurt my family then you know, and finally we have him here. Right in front of us. If we were at war, I’d be able to keep him here, in our lands where I could surround him and kill him. But you and I both know he isn’t a man that fights with weapons. He’s smarter then that. Which means if I am going to bring him to justice, then I need to be smart too. Fight things his way.”

Glancing him up and down before turning away, Barbrey inhaled as she leaned her head against the wall facing forward once more. “Every man and women in the North despises him, why not simply drag him into court? Cut his throat and be done with it.”

Quick to respond, Jon held no room for doubt on his meaning. “That isn’t the kind of leader I want to be, and that isn’t who my father raised me to be.” A small lift of her eyebrows in some gesture of her own understanding, Jon pushed passed it. “I can only charge him for crimes connected to the North. To my family. But if I’m going to do that, I need to leave no room for doubt. If I declare him guilty, then I need all of my men to know what I know that led me to that conclusion.”

Muttering, she still did not return to look at him. “So what is it you want from me?”

Thinking for only a moment, Jon crouched down to much more evenly meet her eye level, his voice dropping in tone and volume as if to match. Without the furs adorning him, not standing over her, Jon knew making himself look less intimidating here was the right approach. “You told me the truth, all the truth. And for that I thank you, but right now I need more then honesty. I need your help.” Allowing a moment of quiet before continuing, Jon knew to give her the time to process each stage here. “I’ve written to your father and brother in law. Both have agreed to my terms, that you will be allowed to return either to Barrowton or the Rills for the remainder of your sentence. You’ll be stripped of your title, and to any right of Ladyship you’ve once had, but you can walk in whichever home you choose without chains.”

There was only one plausible caveat to that kind of offer, and her eyes rising up to the ceiling with a deep inhale and exhale from her nose told Jon she had put it together. “The sheer fact that a slimy weasel such as him hasn’t already sent an assassin in to murder me is my only remaining proof the Old Gods even vaguely care about my life. And now you come down here after months, and ask me to step into a public trial and give all of those same details but for him to know I betrayed him over?” A false laugh which did not reach her eyes left. “If this was an attempt at a joke, your grace, I would return back to your depressingly humourless self. Making others laugh does not suit you.”

Little had even hit his skin with such words. “Tell me. Do I look like the kind of man to come down here and make jokes about your safety? Make light of a man who I know tried to have my wife murdered?” Dragging dark eyes over to his, only a spot of guilt did Jon see within her gaze before she once more broke it.

Another laugh that time more of a huff leaving her chest. “Forgive me, but some days I’m not quite sure which wolf’s blood you really came from.” Were Jons blood capable of freezing so suddenly his heart would stop, it would’ve happened all in a laughing breath of Barbrey Dustins words. He made not a single indication as such, but he felt his heart unfreeze from the fires around and beat faster and more painfully then before. “Brandon had no children as far as he knew, but women looked to him like no other man. Were I not to know any better, I’d say you were more likely to be Brandons then Ned’s, given how impossible either of you seem to have been able to take a joke.”

If Barbrey was implying that Ned Stark was funny compared to his Uncle Brandon, Jon crouched there more understanding why many southerners all deemed Northerners as cold and humourless. Either way, the cut was meant more as a jest to entertain herself then force Jons mind to spiral. Stay focused he told himself. “If I hold a trial for Petyr Baelish, and I can’t prove his guilt, then he will leave Winterfell and take my sister with him. If he leaves now, my brother and sister will never see Sansa again and they only just reunited. Winter is coming. You know it, I know it. There isn’t a worse time to allow him the chance at keeping my little sister from her family then now when they all need each other the most.”

Jon had yet to know how he was going to mend that long since broken bridge between he and Sansa, but giving her reasons to distrust him more and leave with the one man who Jon knew had nothing but ill intentions towards her, was not an option. Their father had confessed to a crime he didn’t commit for a chance to try and protect her, and Jon would not let him down now by making him die for that in vain. Sansa could hate and distrust him all she wanted, but she was a Stark, and Jon had to keep what was left of them together now more then ever.

Giving Barbrey no room to even speak before he continued. “You were someone important to my uncle. I don’t want to dishonour that memory by keeping you locked down here for the rest of your life, you deserve to be home. You won’t have any power, but you won’t be down here in chains being fed whatever the guards are kind enough to give you in hopes it’s warm. Do this for me, and you will return home. I swear it.”

It was not a promise made by a heart tree, but Jon was a man who would hold himself to a promise as such regardless. He had to keep his family together, and Jon would be damned by all of the gods if he didn’t do every single thing possible to protect you from the man who tried to murder you.

Still though, as Jon returned to the ground level he couldn’t shake off one thought. No, it was not the blood of Brandon Stark making Jon as intense of a man as he was, it was someone far worse.

It was someone he was struggling day by day, to pretend he was still nothing like.

Tormund Giantsbane loved his people, he really did. But he also would be the first to admit what a bunch of stubborn pains in his ass they all were. It had taken Mance Rayder over twenty years to get them all to stop fighting and work together, and even now it was as if they were incapable in their blood of not getting on his nerves.

Yet if there was one perk of his people, and him having spent so much time around fancy southerners, it was that settling problems was a lot easier. More then once Tormund would simply walk up to a pair ready to rip each other to pieces, and grab at both their collars and yank them apart or throw one off the other with a yell to shut the fuck up.

The free folk worked better with someone leading them, each clan always had one chieftain but as a whole group someone needed to tell them what was what and keep them in order. So from town to town Tormund would travel keeping everyone in check and on track with their purpose out here. The last time he had been in this place, what the southerners called the Gift, felt so far away it was a lifetime ago in comparison to where he was now.

Sure he had climbed the Wall more times then he could count, but none of those times south mattered beyond what ended up being the result of the last major time. The whole lot of them had followed where Orell said he saw something. Arriving at the Fist of the First Men, they had all gathered around the spiral formation of dead horses bloody and scattered. He and Mance had the same thought as the later knelt down with a frustrated disdain looking it over. “Always the artists.”

He knew for a fact who there didn’t quite get what was going on, two for a fact the way they spoke briefly about it. Ygritte had spoken up, “I thought you said there were dead crows.” When Orell confirmed that there had been, it seemed as if it was only Tormund and Mance who understood what was going on.

Well, them and the crow. Back and forth Jon and Mance went about what happened, how many men Mormont brought out here and a silent unnerved understanding in him about what he knew had happened here. Mance noting that Mormont took a big gamble coming out this far, and that the best fighting men had to be dead, and they were far from home. Which was when he said it. “Tormund, climb the Wall.” Telling him to bring the crow with him since he may be useful. “If not, throw him off the Wall.”

Tormund had spent much of that time south really not caring what Orell kept going on about. Jon hadn’t given them any reason to not trust him yet, and Tormund knew what was really getting him worked up. It was pretty pathetic if you asked him, the fact that he felt so threatened by a crow of all men. Orell wanted to fuck Ygritte, she was into the crow. He was mad and made it everyone else’s damn problem. That was, until Orell was right.

“Make the crow kill him. You’re one of us now. Prove it.”

A fight broke out in the rain, and in truth, Tormund had more then his fair share of time to think about after he was thrown in a cell in Castle Black months later. His size, his skill? And he didn’t even try fighting Jon, not once. Instead he all but held Ygritte down to stop her from losing her shit, yelling at her to accept that he was still one of them.

He knew her for a long time, she was one of them, but he’d be damned to say she was unbearable to deal with after that day. All she could do was walk around in a mood, or rant and rave about wanting to kill him. Once telling her as simply as he could, “When you actually do, then tell me all about it. For now, I’d rather talk about anything then your crow.”

Then they attacked the very villages his people lived in now. Tormund now didn’t make excuses for it, he did what he did and couldn’t take it back, but in their own way he and Jon understood each other. Tormund was a solider, did what his leader told him to do and he did it well. Attack the villages near the Wall to draw them out, but that didn’t work so they kept hitting more and more until it was clear they were forcing them to hit them at Castle Black directly.

For Jon, that night was probably as good a win as he could’ve imagined for how few men it turned out he lied about having. A thousand he said, and maybe there were a good two hundred at most, and still he managed to hold them all off on both sides. In his memory though, was Tormund ever angry.

He liked Jon, always did. Came into the tent with attitude, snapping back to his threat by saying all men die the same no matter what size they are. Liked him from then on, and truthfully, of course he saw it coming. Orell kept saying it, little signs kept coming from Jon that told a different story then what he was pretending to say, Tormund knew it was coming and that made him angry the most.

That he saw this coming, and liked the crow anyways. And now he was mad for it. Out of his whole band of men he led, only he was left alive. Surrounded by crows but none wanted to get anywhere near him with his anger. He’d cut anyone down who came close. Only for a deep rasping voice to approach him in a frustrated defeat. “It’s finished, Tormund. Let it end.”

Not his best moment it was, hissing out, “This is how a man ends-” Only for the moment he moved with his blade, did Jon shoot him in the leg with a crossbow and knock his blade out of his hand and sending him to the ground. Not bothering to even stay as he told the other crows to put him in chains for now. Dragging him away, Tormund had shouted spitting that he should’ve thrown Jon from the wall when he had the chance.

But everything after that stayed in his mind. The way Jon spoke about the now dead Ygritte with something clearly angry saying he had no choice in what he did with her, and how Tormund got the clear sign what went on between them wasn’t quite what Ygritte would walk around boasting it was. The way Jon spoke of the woman he really loved already being dead and slaughtered like an animal, and the way he admitted that this King who showed up was the father of the woman Jon loved.

Gods help him there was way more about this Jon Snow for Tormund to think about then he expected in those days. But despite it all, as Tormund walked through the village all but yanking a passing child up by his neck telling him to “Hand it over.” Putting the knife attempted to be stolen back on his person, and the child to his feet telling him to scram, did Tormund know that somehow he still wouldn’t have traded any of where he was now for a better version of how he got here.

That dark eyed crow who walked into the tent that day, and yet now Tormund walked the village wondering when he’d get his ass back. He went off beyond the Wall and took you with him, but the other men around Jons castle weren’t quite the same. Part of him still could laugh, Tormund had not fathomed how insufferably protective of you Jon was going to be out there. He wished some days he could’ve joined this journey just for a chance to see him keep you tied to his side like you were a baby who couldn’t be left alone.

Dalba asked once what if you two were dead, and he never bought into that. Weaker men then Jon had survived out there, and at least he had a real cause motivating him. Still though, waiting to know what was out there, what happened, what would happen and when you two would get back was tedious and aggravating. And Tormund could only push around his daughters husband so much before that stopped amusing him.

Which was why almost on instinct, did Tormund at first swear it was Jon and yourself riding into that village. From a distance he sure as hell looked like him, and he could only see a blur that looked like a darker haired woman on the horse behind him. Though the closer they rode as a crowd gathered, did Tormund not have a single clue who the woman was. Hands tied in front of her, a narrowed brow as she sat in a silence but he did certainly recognize the rider.

It wasn’t Jon, but gods knew Tormund was more then familiar with what black haired Stark just came riding up. Years ago, Tormund would’ve used getting this close to sink a blade deep in his head, but both men approached the other in almost amusement as it was not much meaningful apprehension. “Everyone thought you were long dead.”

A tease on his tone that Tormund could pin as so close to Jons came right back without hesitation. “I’m surprised you didn’t hunt down my corpse and bring me back, just to kill me yourself.” Tormund lamenting that he had thought about it and the silence between could’ve turned the air.

Instead both men shook hands, a strange understanding it seemed of where both were to stand with each other now. “The fuck are you doing all the way out here?”

Gesturing back to the woman on the horse, her eyes tore through the village no doubt putting together that they were not the average Northerners. Benjen Stark at the very least, was always a lot less annoying to listen to then the bloody Halfhand used to be. “Taking this one to Winterfell. She’s Jons prisoner, should be in his dungeons where he’d want to keep an eye on her.” Asking what she did, she finally looked away from them and down with something no doubt of guilt, and Benjen hesitated. Dark eyes twisting behind in what to say before settling on a non answer. “Nothing good.”

“How the hell did you find a prisoner of Jon when hes all the way out north?”

Benjen’s answer was short and rather matter of fact. “He’s not anymore.” Taken back, Tormund only stared at him for an explanation when he elaborated, including you this time. “Both of them have been back for a few days. They found his little brother, my nephew out there. Poor lad can’t walk anymore, so beside bringing him back and a newborn, they had no room for a prisoner going home.”

Out of everything just spoken, Tormund asked one thing in question. “Newborn? What he find an abandoned baby out there?” As if turned out, the truth was even more baffling.

Much like Jon though, Benjen skipped passed any talk not of the matter at hand. “I need to take her to Winterfell, and Jon asked to get you to come with me when I did. Hasn’t had time to do it himself if you can believe that.”

Unable to help himself, Tormund looked to the side where Ryk stood, a mocking tone of strong condescension dripping from his words as he brought up your name. “She’s been married to Snow half the time you have my daughter. How come she already had a baby and you can’t even manage to shoot out one long enough to even flirt with the idea?”

By the time Tormund was up on his horse, his eyes found that of the woman tied up to the back of Benjen's, asking before the man walked up to interject. “What the hell did you do to piss Snow off? Try to kidnap his girl?” The way she said nothing, and the way she looked down to nothing and no one by the time they set off spoke volumes.

Something serious had happened that neither she nor Benjen were yet willing to slightly share. That was fine though, he’d get it out of Jon one way or another.

Knelt down, you had the wooden side pulled down just in front of you. One hand rested soothingly on the baby’s front while the other sat atop his head, your thumb running back and forth as finally you watched his eyes slip closed and the rest of him falling asleep. All day no matter what you were doing he was a fussy little thing, always being mischievous and demanding of your attention it felt.

Not anything close to frustrating but certainly much more tiring then you had been expecting, almost feeling as if you weren’t finding the time to do what other things you should’ve been. Staying knelt there, your hand on his front slowly moving to rest beside him, your chin propping your head up on your forearm and yet the sight before you struggled to match your thoughts.

Taking care of little Eddard wasn’t unpleasant, you adored having him with you and getting to watch him get used to having a real home. But another part of you would then glance to the men always hustling by in the castle, someone going this or that way, the work piled onto Jons desk and how he was always so busy. Filled to the brim his days were, and you had always been there to do what he couldn’t get to, or shouldn’t have too. You were his Queen, and so you acted it.

Now though, it wasn’t so simple. Your day was dedicated to the baby, it had to be. He was a newborn, brought into the world a month early and had to always be watched. That not even mentioning how you did not feel comfortable leaving him alone with people for long periods of time, perhaps your mother was the exception but none else. You didn’t trust that he would be alright being away from you or Jon for so long and he didn’t like it either. But that meant you had begun putting so much on Jons shoulders that you should’ve been lifting.

Slowly pushing up from your thighs to stand, you slowly paced over to his desk. Not messy it was, but not as organized as you knew he preferred it with so much to handle. One thing then the next, you found yourself growing that guilt inside with seeing everything he had to deal with and you had done nothing. You weren’t just his wife, you still were a Queen. And you had not been supporting him as such.

Ink scratching away at each paper, everything strictly organized to what you knew was preferential to Jons way of thinking. How frustrated he must have been you thought. Days now and he worked all alone, doing everything until so late and that was your fault. He would never say it, but it was. You had let yourself off too easy.

Jon worked harder then anyone, what right did you have to not push yourself to the exact same level?

In the back of your head you knew little Eddard was awake, but he had seemed content with staying comfortable in his cradle as you worked away. Brows narrowed almost in a scowl the more you worked, ignoring the strain it felt on your eyes to look only at the sights of paper, ink and candlelight for what must have been well over an hour if not two. Yesterday Jon had even said he wanted you by his side more, but what if the thing he truly meant is he wanted you back in your position as you used to be?

The door behind you both opened and closed without your notice, and yet it was the sudden high pitched yet excited nonsensical noise coming from the baby which drew your gaze to look at least over to him. Sounds of weapons being stored away with a clank indicated where he was in the room, but returning back your narrowed gaze kept writing instead of addressing it. Him arriving was not an excuse to stop.

Jon pulled down the wooden holdings, at the same instance the baby’s hands shot up asking either to grab or be picked up, his babbles a language Jon understood on his own. Pressing a kiss to his forehead, you could hear Jon lowly mumble, “I missed you too.” Releasing him a bit more from his swaddle, you could hear the grin in his voice alone as he responded to his son as if an average discussion was being had. “Were you good for her...now we both know that’s not true.”

You hadn’t at all seen Jons gaze try to flicker over to you as if to bring you into his little moment with the baby only to hesitate. A pause in voice and eyes as he took in your demeanour and what you were doing before turning back.

Pressing another kiss to his forehead Jon murmured, “Behave for me, alright? I need time with your mother too.” Whatever babbling noise came from your son, you hardly noticed until a warm figure came to your side. A hand running down the hair at the back of your head while he leaned against the desk beside you, without sacrificing being able to see you. Murmuring your name one, twice before Jon took the liberty to use his grip on your hair to tilt your head to look up at him, disturbing you only when your quill left the paper. “I asked how long have you been at this?”

Opening your mouth to respond, you found yourself closing it just as fast in a question Jon no doubt picked up on. How long had you been here? You thought no more then an hour, but if the light filtering in from Jons window in a tinted golden glow spoke anything it must be treading on multiple hours. Dipping it once more in the ink, you shook his grip off in a dismissal and continued on. “Just finishing up a few things while he was asleep, is all.”

If he believed that or not, Jon yet gave no indication. Leaning down to catch your eyes, Jons face twisted in something more troubled as you did not even seem to realize he wanted your attention more. Instead, his hand moved around to grip your chin, turning you to look back up at him. Gesturing with a nod to the work sitting out, Jon asked a little more firmly, “What’s all this?”

It seemed there was a disconnect between you both, the majority laying in your hands not really picking up that something only started to bother him right then, your tone light and without suspicion of his narrowing eyes. “Nothing that I wouldn’t normally help you with.” Gesturing to one pile and continuing as if everything was fine. “These are all written up, they only need your signature before being sent off-”

Calling your name a little more firmly, Jon leaned forward to invade your personal space, not yet letting go of you. “No, I meant why are you doing all of it?”

Your silence was genuine. Lips parted and unsure as to what was going on when you were doing what you were always supposed to have picked right back up for him. Stammering in a quiet until the correct words slowly and carefully formed as your gaze drifted away. “I’m not sure what you mean, I always handle these things for you. It’s just the-”

Shaking his head to cut off what specifics you had worked on, Jon now looked as confused as he was growing frustrated. “Darling, that’s not what I’m asking.” Genuine in asking what was he asking you then, Jon drifted again to let his hand cup your cheek, running his thumb along your jaw. “Why are you doing all of my work for me?”

It came out as naturally as it did instinctively. “I’m sorry-”

The sigh leaving Jon was followed by his hand dropping from you entirely. A grimace as he exasperatedly pinched the bridge of his nose before his equally as frustrated gaze melted into his voice and tone as if in scolding. “Why are you sorry?” He knew you didn’t have an answer to that, nor did he let you waffle about in silence trying to consider the right answer to placate him. “I didn’t leave all of this here, expecting you to do it for me. It’s my responsibility, not yours.”

Oh there was quite a gap in the air of understanding the more you attempted to find the point he was making. “I..I am aware you didn’t tell me to do it, but I always do things like this for you. It’s my responsibility to help you.”

Jons interjection increased in a tone you were misreading as annoyed with you. “I never asked you to do the work I created for myself, for me. You know that I didn’t.” You tried to defend yourself more confused inside that he didn’t need to order you to know what was expected of you. “What is it you think I expect you to do?”

In your own mind, in the world you knew and understood of women in your position you thought nothing of the way you said it. Jon however, just stared down at you in a disbelief for a good heavy number of seconds as if you had spoken it to him in a foreign language. “To raise your son, to help you rule?”

Standing up, Jon passed by you for merely a few paces. Turning around halfway, your hand gripping the top of the chair with something more wide eyed as he looked back to you, seemingly not at all considering your confusion. “What is this?” You didn’t respond, you didn’t know what he was trying to even ask and he knew it. “Think about what you just said, and tell me when you figure out what the problem with that is.”

Truly he hadn’t said it rude or in any condescending manner, but it clawed at your insides thinking it did while too notably misreading the expression on his face as directed towards you personally. Nothing you said stood out, you didn’t understand. The words spoken were a pure guess and both you and Jon knew that. “I shouldn’t be helping only when possible, I should always be helping you no matter what-”

Cutting yourself off, Jon turned from you pacing even further into the room as he ran his hand down his face. Now much further away, it was even harder to read his real intentions of emotion. Gesturing out to you and motioning to his desk with his eyes growing darker. “And you think this is the way I expect you to do that?” Clarifying that you didn’t say that directly, Jon cut you off almost the moment your mouth finished forming the letters of the end of your sentence. “Since when have I ever expected you to do all this for me?”

Something was wrong, and you felt that unwelcome heat growing behind your face at not knowing why or for what. “Jon, we’ve always shared work this way since before-”

“Since before you gave birth to our son.” Before you even had a chance to let that thought drag you down into it’s depths, Jon elaborated. “I didn’t want you forcing yourself to work into the night when it was just me and you. I certainly don’t expect you to stretch yourself thin when you’re caring for our baby on top of that.”

Taking pity in you, Jon sighed out before holding his hand out to you. Gracefully pulling you to your feet, Jon guided you close enough that both of his hands could settle firmly along your hips. Voice small against what his had been, but still not on the correct path. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you-”

That time, Jons sigh was followed by his eyes closing shut. Forehead dropping to rest against yours but his tone was no longer filled with what you thought was annoyance. “I’m not upset, darling. And don’t apologize you didn’t do anything wrong.” Muttering gently that you didn’t feel it was that way, Jon lifted his head. Pressing a kiss to your forehead before resting back against you in a similar fashion as before. “How about you tell me where all this is coming from, because I know you’re not getting it from anything I said to you.”

When you found not an answer right away, Jon shifted both of you. Sitting you down on the furs at the edge of his bed, him now kneeling on the ground in front of you, both hands still by you sides up at your waist now. Grey eyes bright and wide looking up at you, with his hair pulled back making them stand out so perfectly in the hint of golden glow beside him. Your own hands sat in your lap, partially holding at the skirt of your dress in a manner indicating to Jon clearly that you were more on edge then he thought.

Your voice was quiet, trying to find a way to explain it to him without saying the wrong thing again. “I only was trying to say that, I’ve been taking care of the baby so much that I have barley helped you with anything. And last night you said you wanted me by your side more, I thought you meant by your side as in, doing the work with you.”

“With me or for me?”

As it so happened, your answer of apologizing for overstepping was not the right one still. Yet, it was not frustration or anger which came from Jon as a result. His head dropped a bit as a laugh freely left in a bit of a breathy manner. Eyes shining with his smile attached so handsome it was a cruel sight each time you always wanted to keep.

Lifting his head back up, Jon ran a hand that time down the side of your face, cupping your cheek with his grin still beaming with something holding no shred of frustration like before. “It’s a good thing you’re beautiful, because sometimes it is exhausting getting through that thick skull of yours.”

Face dropping flat only drew more of a laugh freely out of him, and smothered in you which he no doubt had caught you trying to hide. Dryly you let your eyes drag to the side of the room away from his grey ones.

Surging upwards, that time Jon caught both of your cheeks, bringing your flat expression to meet his grinning one to press his lips to yours. Nothing needing, but keeping you against him in something more deep then chaste alone, but not guiding you enough into anything to work you up too much with. Just his soft lips against yours taking what breath you had for himself, as you’d always chose to.

Just barley pulling away, you could feel his lips brushing yours with every word. Your hands resting along his shoulders as if trying to dig into the muscle for him. “I’ve never met a woman more stubborn then you.” Asking with a bit more light in your tone, asking if that was an insult or not, Jon just pulled you right back to his lips. “Yes.”

You pulled free that time as your head dropped, a laugh slipping through pulling a softer one from Jon. Running a hand down your hair again, Jon nudged your nose with his to gain your attention. Eyes dark but not angry or annoyed as you previously feared. “You gave birth what? Nearly two weeks ago? And for six months before that I dragged you all through the far North almost your entire pregnancy. I almost lost you twice after you gave birth, and we get home only to realize we still have to watch our backs.”

The tips of your fingers reached out, scratching gentle against the facial hair coarse against his jaw. “Sometimes you say things and I don’t always understand that they mean something different then what I thought. You said you wanted me by your side more, and because we already spent so many hours apart today I thought that you meant you wanted me doing my equal share of the work like we used to.”

Jon only nudged your nose gently again, that time not quite moving away as he kept you there in the near nuzzling like gesture, his breath warm as it draped across your skin. “Right now, you’re duty is to be my wife. To take care of yourself, and help raise our son.” The hand on the back of your hair gripping you a little firmly as if to grab your attention further. “Not my son, our son. Everything you went through to bring him into this world, darling. I don’t want to hear you putting yourself down by putting your importance here as less then me.”

Only a gentle murmur as your hands still toyed across his shoulders. “I didn’t want you to think I don’t want to help you.” Rather then addressing it, Jon only brought your lips back to his.

Barley managing words through each chase of your lips he pursued when he himself tried to pull back. “Right now, our son needs you more then he needs me. I never had a chance to be with my mother when I was his age, I don’t ever want to take that from him or you.” Nodding, you didn’t say anything further, nor did you need too. As if your lack of protest sometimes spoke better of your understanding then words spoken in the air. “I’m happy dealing with all of this, if it means I know you’re taking care of yourself. But I’ll make myself clear this time, even if you have the baby, I want you in more of my meetings from now on. You take care of him, and I’ll feel better having you by my side. But that’s all I expect right now.”

Not yet any response to him directly, your eyes opened, peeling to the side to the sound of a small sound you were growing familiar with. The fussing of a grumpy wolf pup. “I have two needy wolves vying for my time now, I can’t disappoint either of them, can I?”

Jon chose to go get him, the mumblings spoken to his son as he picked him up and you felt such a shine of sunlight sparkling in your heart at how Jon truly had a son that is just like him. You almost couldn’t wait for a few more years to pass, you wanted so much to see right now how close they would both be the older he got. Sitting back on the bed by your side, Jon only moved an arm enough to tug you closer to him. Your head without thought resting more down against his shoulder, your own hand letting go of your dresses skirt.

Dancing across little Eddard’s front as he right back made those same motions being grabby while a smile came about all three of you. Jons gaze being swapped between you and the baby, the sight more then either of you could’ve ever dreamt of to have with one another. Leaning more into your hair, Jon rasped lowly in your ear enough you were sure he may have been able to feel the slight shiver down your spine. “We have enough going on, don’t add to it by worrying I expect more of you then what you’re already doing.”

Little Eddard toying against the wrapping now fresh once more around your palms, tone a little distant but not so out of the room that you felt disconnected from the present. “And if this starts getting worse again?” You needn’t elaborate, you could all but feel Jons heavy gaze drifting towards the wrappings.

“None of what I said about this changed. Whatever all of this means, it isn’t just you anymore. We take it slowly, but I’m not watching you get worse trying to understand it.” Nodding gently, as the baby begun to settle better with both of you there, so did you turning more to hid away a bit in Jons neck. Feeling him turn his head enough to nuzzle against the top of yours as he whispered gently. “I won’t tell you to stay out of it, but for right now let me handle Littlefinger.”

Another small nod, your voice was apprehensive. “And Sansa?”

But Jon too was firm. “Right now, her problem is with me. I have to be the one to handle it.” Asking gently if he truly thinks Sansa distrusted him the way he suspected, Jon did not waver. “I know she does. But she has to accept just because she doesn’t understand you and me, that doesn’t mean it’s wrong. If I could change the way I am with you, I would. But I can’t.” Arguing there was nothing wrong with the way he treated you, you sensed that hesitation. But also, the sense Jon today did not wish to discuss it. Which was fine with you for now, that one was at his pace, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t make him feel more at ease over it.

Murmuring for him to let you take the baby, you watched his eyes drift closed just as you picked him up to lay him back down, the amount the little one needed sleep as active as he had been all day. You turned, and that time prompted Jon to stand. Slinking in behind him, you only just took off enough layers from him that his softer undershirt remainder. Beckoning him to sit right back down, you took an easy spot up on the bed behind.

Just as Jon asked what you thought you were doing, did you reach up to his shoulders, tense as anything. Digging deep into the muscles, within an instant no doubt his head dropped with a grunt leaving from deep in his chest. “I’ll always find ways to take care of you to, you know.” Muttering your name almost in a not very impactful warning, you continued on kneading into his muscles until they relax and massaged the remainder until you moved along his shoulders to more of his back. “We both take care of the baby, you take care of me. Someone has to take care of you, and I’m your wife. Which means, yes, it is my responsibility.”

A small huffing laugh left him, muttering low and a bit slurring together the further into leaning back into your touch he got. “Is there even a point trying to argue this anymore?” Your answer only a short no, and that huff turned far more into a laugh you could feel under your palms. “We’re both too stubborn for own own good.”

Reaching forward, your lips found his cheek almost pressing there gently to his suprise. Moving back to behind him just as you caught sight of Jon intending to turn around to try and kiss you much more urgently, and the frown attached to his face now a symbol of the grumpiness which came from not getting it. Slowly however, you let one of your hands drift up to his shoulder again only to make your own path sinking down into the open top of his shirt.

Grey eyes fluttering closed as he leaned back into you much more noticeably that time, you let your hand drift down his firm torso over to his heart. Your fingertips tracing over the deep wound never to be healed but yet the strong beating underneath it spoke of the most unusual of truths. Reaching behind, you read his ask without needing to be told.

Letting your other stop its work, Jon brought you closer to drape across his back as he tugged your other hand up to his lips. Pressing a kiss firmly to your hand and keeping a hold on it. “Do you really want to do something for me?” Your nod was nothing but genuine and innocent, yet not even did you quite yet register the lower bass vibrating through into your chest as he spoke. Jons other hand reaching up under the end of his shirt to grab at yours, pulling it slowly but with a purpose downwards to his hips.

Glancing back as much as he could, your breathing picked up as they flickered over what he could manage to see of you. Your voice something almost meek or unsure. “You want me to..”

Brows narrowed slightly, Jon almost teased unfairly. “Everything we’ve done, and this makes you nervous?” Your nod again was only innocent, were Jons intentions innocent he may have laughed. Instead the deep exhale only made your blood burn a little hotter. That time, Jon only shifted long enough to rest both of your hands down by his hips, the laces of his breeches toying at the edges of your finger tips. “Come on.”

Biting down on your tongue roughly, you willed yourself to keep the air calm and not doubt what he was asking. Out of anything you had the least understanding of what to do here, but Jon rested both of his own hands against the fur beside him. One lace then the other, any other man would’ve accused you of taking this long to tease or put a show on. But Jon let you go at the slow pace knowing it was simply what you were comfortable with.

Enough room for your hand to slink in, only an exhale left Jon as you did so but otherwise remained steady as he looked over his shoulder at you with a steadily darkening gaze. Wrapping a hand around his cock, already rather hard, a whimper nearly left you much to Jons dismay at you covering it up at the fact that you couldn’t even wrap your whole hand around him. How thick his cock was and you never got used to how intimidating it could be.

But you held at his hip to steady yourself, trying to move gently. Grip loose, and nothing but light strokes inhibited by the clothes in your way but he made you work around it. He didn’t make it easy for you. Just a husk of a voice drawing your senses into something hazy as he muttered, “Tighter. Grip me tighter, darling. You know that.” Jon inhaled deeply as you did, his cock twitching somewhat in your hand as you tried to continue. Barley moving far from the base of his cock, but now tighter in holding him you were still slow and kind, Jons head shaking with a voice any but you would mistaken for annoyed. “Think about how rough I am with you.” Barley did you pick up the pace, and that time an order came out almost in a growl. “You’re nowhere near close to how tight your cunt is around me.”

Again you tried to follow his instructions, and each time he let you stroke up and down his cock until a rising animal inside Jon once more reared its feral head. Telling you to pull him out, both of your hands had to do so. You always were so gentle with his cock as if he didn’t fuck you with it until you would pass out. As if you were incapable of being anything close to rough with him, and it only made Jon throb in your hand thinking about it.

The moment his thick length was out for your eyes widening and audible swallow, Jon sent a hand down to cover yours. His head whipping back to meet your surprised ones almost jumping back, the glare in his eyes took up so much space no grey remained underneath the black as he held your hand so tightly around his cock you could almost feel the blood rushing through him under your palms. “I fucked your ass until you cried for me, and you still do this.” It truly felt like his words did not match the angry looking darkness staring back to you. “I’ve tied you up and left you bruised and you still touch me like I’m the delicate one.”

It wasn’t an accusation but you felt lost for an answer as he started to move your hand with his own. Rougher strokes, faster and not even allowing you to ease the raw feeling by running your hands over where seed leaked from the tip of his cock. “I was too afraid to try and do things like this for you before, now more then ever someone should be gentle with you.” Jon muttered as his cock throbbed in your hand, teeth gritting as he watched his much larger hand almost hide yours completely against his thick length, that he didn’t treat you gently but your words made that growl in his chest come out as his head dropped back a bit. “I want you to do whatever you want when you have me in your bed, you deserve to have that much.”

Jons eyes fluttered shut as you diligently followed the pace he kept your hand moving up and down his cock at. As if he were alone, he was getting you to stroke him the rougher way he would handle himself. Only a fluster rose in your chest at a rather indecent thought, that before your time together now, you had never known just how much he would get himself off each night, and how often it was apparently about you.

Had you both been people that were allowed to be together back then, would Jon have truly stopped that rain filled night where he kissed you. He had you alone, wet from the downpour of rain in the sky and his lips urgently attached to yours pinning you against a tree. How far would he have taken it, had Jon felt the severity of the animalistic instincts he harboured for you now? Even more improper you thought, how far would you have been happy to let him take it with you?

Jon had been too unsure back then together to let you try it, but in another world where he was truly the wolf then as the one in front of you today, what sight would it have been? Shoving you down to your knees, nowhere to go and the sounds of your mouth taking his cock deep smothered by the rain but not hidden from his dark eyes.

But you weren’t the only one with images in your head, yanking your hand from his cock suddenly, Jon turned on you in an instant. Shoving you higher up the bed and roughly forcing you flat on your back. Shoving the skirt of your dress up enough he yanked your thigh high up on his hip, leaning over you stretching you out more and more indecently as if to let his cock run against your core, growing wetter and wetter at the feeling.

His other hand was pressed into the fur beside your head as he looked down at you with such a raw need that his eyes almost looked that of a wild animal. His voice rasping with a scratch against it, a growl asking for release. “And if I want you on your hands and knees?” Your eyes were wide, almost unfairly innocent as your hands reached up to his shoulders, Jon did not blink. “If I flipped you over now, dragged you back on my cock, show you how a wolf breeds his mate, you’d want that?”

Your nod almost did him in. You did not do anything but increase your breathing to match your racing heart blazing inside your torso, but to Jon it was torture. You answered his depravity with such innocence every single time. Voice light and breathy gazing up at him with not even lust, but an adoration against his own lecherous thoughts. “I promise, anything.”

Jons breathing was almost in heaves, his muscles tense looking down at you as if seconds away from ripping your clothes off with his bare hands to tear open the fabric for good. Dragging his eyes down your body and back up, tilting his head as if to implore you to make him proceed with caution. Your name much sweeter on his lips then his gaze and touch. “You can’t do this to me. You can’t keep giving me permission to do all of this. I-” That time he swallowed roughly, leaning his forehead down to yours, the hand beside you now cupping your hair at the back of your head to keep you where he needed. Rasp still rough but much more of a whisper against your skin. “I was only born because his men didn’t stop Rhaegar from doing whatever he wanted. You can’t keep letting me act like that with you, you shouldn’t let me treat you this way.”

Nudging up to run your nose brushing against his, a barley there kiss left to his lips as you cupped his cheeks. “This is nothing like that, you know this. You aren’t him just because you feel more passionate about your wife then other men.”

Shaking his head, it was as if he could entirely ignore how hard he still was against you. “One of Eurons men said something to me after they took you. That they were surprised I hadn’t locked you away in a tower so other men wouldn’t touch you.” Just as you had begun assuring him with a soothing comfort that someone else saying it didn’t mean anything, did Jon cut you off with something struggling inside his own self admitting it. “They aren’t wrong.” Pulling back to look you better in the eye, he was as intense as he was bright in his eyes looking down at you. “Sometimes I do want that. Tie you up, lock you away. Anything to stop the world always trying to take you away from me. Hide you away from everyone else because I don’t know how else to protect you.”

The words he said were one thing, yet another was who he was. Had Ramsay spoken such words to you, if Euron ever did now, you’d be filled with that very terror of a past you had only seen in dreams of nonsense. Yet, not a shred of that fear existed in you looking at Jon. Anything that which would terrify you with other men, Jon was the exception. Perhaps it was the wrong way to encourage it, but you were nothing but genuine. Thumb running over his cheek. “And I’d still love you.”

One leg still high on his hip, Jon nearly tore at your dress. The fabric ripping at a seam along it’s edge as he yanked it up, shoving your other leg wide. Both of you nearly on one side of the bed more to the point it almost obscenely hovered in the air with nowhere to go. Jon didn’t bother undressing any further, the hand on your leg moved to your hair only long enough to force you up to his lips in the same moment he pushed deep inside of you.

The kiss hardly gotten off the ground when he pulled back, a snarl growling from him as he sunk as deep as he could inside of you. The stretch had you gasp, but also a bit of pain mixed in. You weren’t nearly as wet as Jon would’ve prepared you to be, and yet that pained burned inside your core with something in need. Twisting and turning like a coil, as if however you were now, was all you truly needed to take such a thick size.

Forcing your leg higher up his side, he left your hair to hold open your other leg wide. Dark eyes stared down at you, barley even blinking as he took no time to build you up. Pulling only halfway out, Jon roughly thrusted back inside of you, drawing a blatant cry from your lips, head falling back against his pillow as he did it again and again.

Your leg hurt from how wide and strained he held it wide, but his cock sunk so deep every instance, and yet your already tight walls clenched more and more around him begging not to leave. The pain bled into your veins, floating across your body in a sting and yet the growing wetness you covered him with masked the part of it which would be too much. Your heart floating inside of you as it raced to seek out breath your lungs did not have.

Jon so roughly pounded inside of you, staring down with dark eyes near black and a grunt trapped in his chest the more and more he went. Harder and harder no doubt tears had welled in your eyes, the sight alone drawing a growl out. “Fuck..”

Pushing your leg on his hip wide against the other side of the bed, Jon let both go as he reached up to your dress. The laces attached to the front hardly making it to halfway undone before Jon roughly grasped at the fabric and just tore it with a hiss. Hovering over you more, his eyes stared down now at your breasts moving as much as he fucked into you with force. Were his own clothes not in the way, the sound would’ve echoed off the walls and out the window for any to hear. Husking out as he dragged his eyes from your breasts to your eyes again, “I know they’re still sensitive right now,” One again Jon grabbed your legs, kneeling up straighter as he shoved them wide again, ignoring any pain the stretch might have put you in because he was so utterly deep inside your soaking cunt. “The way I love you isn’t normal, I know that. It never has been, but I can’t change that and I don’t want to scare you away.”

He could not do this as he dragged against your sensitive walls each slide of his cock deeper and deeper as if you were designed by the gods to fit him in perfection, created after Jon so that you could be made to fit everything about him and only him. That maybe you had always existed for him, it was always him your purpose was supposed to be, and death only intertwined you both together in a way that would never separate that connection again.

Wrapping a hand around to the back of his neck, your eyes hooded, lips parted as small noises of need kept leaving you as the sound of how wet you were each time his cock slid inside of you filled the air beyond your need of sound. “Never,” You had so little air to give and it all drenched into your voice like a siren in his ears. “I belong to you, I’ll always belong to you..”

Truly, it was something of a fight. The man inside of Jon desperate to kiss you and assure you that he’s always belonged to you too, but the animal in him, the predator pounding his cock into your walls which never once even thought to resist him, said something much more possessive. One which spilled from his lips, hardly even noticing to Jon that he said them aloud. “The moment I laid eyes on you, you belonged to me, and I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you from me. Anyone.” Rambling further, Jon shifted so that he could stay atop you, mounting you as your feet pressed against the furs at each of his sides, arms wrapped around him as he held your face in his neck by a grip on your hair, the other grasping at his headboard, the leverage forcing his cock roughly inside of you to the point Jon would later be able to see his own nails having carved into the wood. “You were born for me, made for me- fuck I’ll never let you go,”

Neither of you really heard what he said, Jon pounding so deep inside of you, the feeling no doubt going to make standing delicate. You knew already you would be able to feel his cock sliding in and out of you so perfectly until he finally would fill you again next. Jon hid in your hair as he held you to hide his neck, your words somehow sweet and soothing as if he had spoken nothing terrifyingly depraved. “I love you.”

Jon could hardly give himself the space to pull you back to look at him before he captured your lips, kissing you so deeply that the second your lips even somewhat gave space he slid his tongue inside of your mouth. Brushing with a greed to taste you as he would anywhere else he wanted to feast, not even able to pull himself from your kiss long enough to say it back as he was so desperate too. He needed your lips more then he needed to tell you how much he loved you back.

Legs at his sides shaking, Jon could sense your end was racing towards you. Not as roughly, but Jons hips fucked into yours faster and faster. Forcing your orgasm sooner and sooner, he needed to feel you cum around his cock. Unable to even move back with his pace, you had no choice. Laying back in his kiss, legs spread wide and just taking it when his cock dragged again and again over such a perfect spot that you nearly tore from his kiss. Jon only pressed your head further into the bed to keep you to him the whine singing into his mouth.

One pound, another and another, rougher then the last if his skin was bare as yours, it would’ve sounded almost on the edge of violent. But sinking deeply, Jon never ceased even as his orgasm came over him during the middle of your own.

An ankle wrapping around his calf as if to beg him closer, you felt Jons cock throbbing with a growl vibrating against your front before you were suddenly filled with a hot feeling. Fucking so steadily in and out now that both of you had so thoroughly soaked your core, Jons seed spilled inside of you with thick spurts one after another as if to fill you as long as he was still hard.

None of it even slightly could escape, his cock so thick inside of you that he knew if he did this every single day, sooner or later your body would be ready to get pregnant again. Jon filled you over and over as your head grew dizzy even in his arms by the time his hips slowed. His cock still deep inside of you as your hearts raced. Jons head dropped, resting against your forehead, as you both barley were coming down.

If the gods were cruel, and they were, they had planned this just to humiliate you. But the guards weren’t at the door, and with it closed, that typically meant that you were likely in there. Guards stayed outside the door to protect the King, you preferred your own leave you be. So slipping in quietly, there was no mistakening what this was, nor the roughness of the scene having been walked in on.

The gasp of shock was enough, the sudden rise Jon moved from your front, but to wrapping an arm around your front to all but shove you to hide your bare form. His eyes formed in a significant glare automatically and hardly found it within him to ease up upon realizing what happened. His voice tore through your ear in a husk, a breathless rasp seeped with something that was much more detectable as anger. “Sansa-”

You hidden in his front, Jon could sense the humiliation within you rise at being caught, as if you had done something wrong. It was not the time nor the place, but Jon certainly didn’t want you feeling embarrassed that people knew he took you as such. He wanted to throw away that guilt women like your septa growing up had taught you to be ashamed of. But moments like this did not help.

Sansa stood still somewhat by the door with eyes wide looking at the fire by the wall. Her voice a clear high pitched embarrassment in a whole other manner but just as stammering of a strong wish to turn the time back a few minutes and knock first. “The door was unlocked,” Jon could feel you practically trying to melt away from this situation, your name being the next thing Sansa said. “I thought she was alone, I was looking for her.”

Looking down to you, and then trying to look to the other side where clearly the baby had been awoken by the sudden shift in the air and raising of voices. Jon knew there really was no hiding what she walked in on, a hand tucking himself back in as the other prompted you to move a bit, Sansa turning around now facing the other direction with a whirlwind of regret for just this once deciding she didn’t care to abide to boundaries.

She had no idea what was worse, walking in on her own brother having sex with his wife, or laying in bed in the Vale forced to endure her aunts insufferable screaming and grunting on her wedding night.

Already knowing Jon was modestly dressed, he mostly tied the laces of his breeches properly with a jaw clenched in tense frustration before grabbing something for you to wear. Turning you to face him as he slid the sleeves down your arms, his eyes sought out yours as he tightened the laces at the front. An apology ripe in his gaze for not locking his door. Though you would’ve argued that he hadn’t come in for that intent.

Turning you once more so your back was to him, Jon gently moved your hair to lay in front of you gathered to one shoulder, now doing the final ties at the back. His voice truly stern in a manner that sounded just like when their father was as frustrated with one of them, also using it as an indication she could turn back around. “What was so important you couldn’t stop to knock?”

Facing you both once more, it was clear now that a bit of the embarrassment had subsided in most parties, save for you Jon knew, considering you had just stood in a silence letting him take charge of the conversation. Once more, there it was, plain as day on his little sisters face a distrust that he hated that it conflicted with his own struggle inside presently. Her throat clearing a bit, Sansa stuck to a more diplomatic route then perhaps she had intended on the walk over, indicating to you. “I wanted to talk to you.”

To you both, Jon spoke for you as there was a large pit in your stomach feeling ill for being walked in on in such a manner that you were too embarrassed to speak, trusting Jon knew your words for you, which he did. To Sansa though, Jon was aware it appeared as if he wasn’t allowing you to speak for yourself. “About what?”

Eyes flickered between both of you, Jon finally finishing your dresses laces. Palms smoothing down your upper arms, an unspoken gesture to calm yourself down, knowing the whiplash of such an intense, unplanned encounter was not clashing well with having to shift to everything being normal without any time to come back down to your head properly. Sansa though, didn’t see it that way even if she chose to address on but glance at you as well. “There were just things on my mind I wanted to talk to her about.” Asking what things in a gruff manner, it did stand out to Sansa how much like their fathers short tone Jon reminded her of. “About Petyr.”

Jon read the lie and she knew it. She wanted to talk to you alone about Jon. But as unfortunate of a time as it was, he may as well get it out there. But not quite yet, or at least, not this specific part. Talking about Jon was too talking about Petyr Baelish but he was going to address one alone before the other together. Looking over your shoulder, your eyes turned to meet as if reading his mind seeking you out.

Leaning down, Jon pressed a lingering, but chaste kiss to the side of your head. “Do me a favour, go find where Arya and Bran are and bring them to Wolkans study.” Your eyes narrowed, the silence a question and his nod the answer, you knew it was not a dismissal. Asking if he wished for you to take the baby, Jon ran his hand up and down your arm more. “I’ve got him.” Hesitating as you were to walk passed, Jon picked it up. Your head was a mess no doubt, he had been rough and spoken rough and sending you away this soon was confusing your ability to reclaim your senses as normal. Pulling you back to him, Jon captured your lips in a small kiss, murmuring finally back, knowing only you’d hear it. “I love you.”

Nudging you to move, he could imagine the uncertain, tight lipped smile you attempted to give Sansa as she watched you walk out of the door. Jon moving towards his sons bed, he reached a hand down, pressing gentle against his front with brighter eyes and a smile hinting on his lips already calming whatever building distress little Eddard had picked up on in the room.

His tone was more commanding of authority then Sansa expected. It felt no doubt, more like she was speaking to the King rather then her older brother as he didn’t even look up from his son to speak. “We do need to talk about him, and you. All of us. But this needs to be brought out into the open.” She didn’t say a word. Jon lifted his head up to meet her eyes with a more serious narrowing then he just had before, prompting her to be the one to say it. “Say it. Whatever it is you’re thinking, Sansa, just say it.”

One could describe it as a stare off, nothing in the air between glares that were not the crackling of the fire and small tender sounds from the baby Jon stood beside. Grey and blue with something that had been brewing for days and days now. Jon had once tried to talk to her about this, but she wanted to argue, so he shut it down before it got out of hand. Then Sansa continued to escalate things by arguing with him publicly in front of his men at every chance. But this was something he wouldn’t ignore.

Jon had his insecurities, he held his fears of turning into the blood father he never wanted, but he knew without any doubt he was not mistreating you the way Sansa was painting him to be. He was certainly not using you to be King in the North.

By the time Sansa found the words to spit it out, both knew this would escalate again, and part of Jon wished he had told you to take little Eddard with you. Knowing he did not like losing his temper around him. But she now alone in the room, found the right time to say it in a very spitting manner. “I wasn’t brought up the same as you and Robb were, but even I know our father didn’t raise you to act like this.” Pressing her on what specifically, Jon almost regretted it considering how quickly he felt his temper flaring up as she said your name. “The way you treat her-”

Already Jons voice raised in an anger. “You mean the way I treat my wife?”

Sansa’s jaw twitched, something he knew what she was trying to not say but he could see it clear as day as she talked around it. “I’ve known her almost as long as you have, you know. You’re not the only one here who cares about her well being.” Jon had interjected, something to the subject of he’s never claimed otherwise but Sansa had other idea. “No, you haven’t. I’m claiming it.” Pressing her again on what, “Claiming you don’t really care about her well being.”

Keep it pushed down, Jon thought. He truly did not want to get this angry at his own sister but bringing you up was always going to be a subject that had Jon a bit touched. Through an even tone of gritting teeth did Jon force himself to not let the worst of his impulsive temper get to him. “No offence, Sansa, but you have no idea the thing’s I’ve done to protect her. To keep her safe, to take care of her.”

Stepping forward, Sansa waved dramatically over to the bed were the fur was clearly still rustled by specific activities as she too raised her own voice. “By what? Pinning her to your bed so she can’t leave like you’re a dog?”

Not to her fault, but Sansa naturally had not a single clue why Jon stared at her in quite an enraged manner that spoke a little more surprisingly to her, that Jon was withholding something quite serious inside. His words low and carefully chosen as he spoke them slowly. Taking his hand from his sons bed, hoping he understood Jon didn’t want that anger near him. “The way I spend time with her, isn’t for you to start speculating over. You walked in on something you shouldn’t have, and you’re the one assuming things without having any idea what you’re talking about.”

Moving closer to meet her more in the middle of the room, nothing of their glares changed, save that Jon held an eerily unblinking stare towards her as she spoke. Now attempting to match his volume at a minimum. “The last time I saw you, you were leaving for the Wall after we both watched her marry Robb. Then I finally come home after Robb’s dead, I find out she’s alive, and you’ve left the Wall to come here, call yourself King, and marry her.” She was smart, leaving the fact of giving you a child was part of her original issue, but pressing that with the baby in question in the room at least to her, felt like an inappropriate part. “And everytime I see you with her, you’re always all over her. Trying to seduce her. What am I supposed to think?”

Breathing deeply in and back out, Jon reminded himself. If their father never spoke to him in that kind of anger, he wasn’t going to start doing it here with his little sister. But Jon also had to be careful what he approached, and how to unweave this web of endless falsehoods that had been placed into her head about him. “The only times you’ve seen me with her in that manner is when you’ve walked in on it, or spied on us when you knew you weren’t supposed to.” It said a lot to Jon that she had no rebuttal to that. “You may not understand my relationship with her, but that doesn’t mean you get to start judging me for it without any context. I can’t tell you what to think, but I will tell you that jumping to the worst conclusion isn’t fair. It’s not fair to me, and it’s not fair to her.”

Motioning to her almost as if he were talking down an animal, Jon continued before giving her a chance. “If you think I don’t know what he’s been saying to you, you’re wrong. I know exactly what he’s been telling you about me.” Asking more on the quiet side how he knew, Jon let some of that anger go. More wide eyes pleading with her to just listen to him about this for once now that they were both adults. “Because people have been saying those things about me for my whole life. I’m a bastard, a walking reminder of sin and lies all because of a birth I had no control over. Highborns get told to look out for people like me, because I’ll just seduce and manipulate someone into giving me what I want. People hear what my surname is, and judge me because they already decided I can’t be trusted.”

If it was guilt sitting on Sansa’s face, he didn’t go out of his way to point it out. Nor how she remained rather quiet in her slow formed attempt at any kind of fair retort. “You’re my brother, I do trust you-”

Jon didn’t yell, if anything his voice lowered to more of an exasperation, something tired and knowing and finished with hearing that over and over. “You don’t. If you trusted me, you wouldn’t be standing here accusing me of using the woman I love for a title I never asked for.” Sansa blinked away multiple times whatever she was considering saying. “I can’t change what happened, or what Robb decided. I can’t even tell you why. I wasn’t there.” Your name came next from his mouth. “But she was. And instead of asking her why she and Robb did what they did about his crown, you’re blaming me. And choosing to accuse me of using her for my benefit, when I’m the one who owes everything to her. Including my life. I’m sorry you’re hurt, and I’m sorry you came back for something you didn’t know was already decided could never be yours.”

Closing the gap between them, part of Jon wondered if his sister had always been this noticeably tall. They almost didn’t even stand eye to eye, in fact she was a breath taller now. Or maybe she always was this tall, but too he wouldn’t have known that. Before this past week, Jon wouldn’t have been able to even say the last time he and Sansa spoke just the two of them. Jon felt like he didn’t even know her, but he had no way to even try as long as she was ready to paint him out to be something he wasn’t.

In truth, it was likely the most honest Sansa had been since that night she sought you out by the glass gardens, even if it seemed not even Jon knew of that night. You had kept it to yourself as long as she wanted it to be just between you. But here of all places, Sansa let herself just say what was truly on her mind. “Sometimes I don’t now if I really came home. Or if I’m still just a liar doing whatever Petyr tells me because I don’t know what else do to anymore.”

Head shaking the slightest, Jon stepped closer as his tone lowered. Were he to ask in that moment, Sansa could’ve pinned exactly who Jons demeanour reminded her of so vividly it took her off guard.

“If it must be done, I will do it myself.”

The exasperation and defeat once the anger had simmered out, realizing that nothing was as simple as he had thought it would be, and how no matter what being said or done would hurt her, her father never stood forth to kill Lady because he wanted to. He did it because allowing an outsider to so strongly dictate what happened in his family was not something he’d allow. She had rarely considered how much of their father Jon was like, but in that moment, it was like looking at a darker haired version of Ned Stark.

Speaking softer, but still with that heavy weight behind of something bigger then just this argument weighing him down came through. Jon only hoping some of this was sinking in over the words of people like Littlefinger. “I know you’ve been through too much, you, Arya, Bran, all of you lost your chance to still be children after father died. But you’re still a Stark, and you’re my sister. Winter is coming and something more dangerous is coming with it then fighting over who gets to be crowned what. But I can’t even try to protect you from that, or anyone if you keep doing this. He’s not helping you because he wants whats best for you. He wants you to think I’m using her, to hide the fact that he’s using you.”

Eyes wider, something more human in them then he’d seen in days, or perhaps years in her. The voice speaking nothing like the woman who came back, but much more the naive girl who left years ago. “I don’t know if I’ve ever trusted him, but I had no choice.”

Jon was firm, but still that familiar comfort she recalled in their father as Jon held her arms to focus her to look at him properly. “I won’t tell you what to do, but before you decide what you really want, you need to hear the truth. The full truth about who he really is. He’s a dangerous man-”

“I already know.” Looking up to Jons confusion, he could see something much like what he felt just then. A truth that she hadn’t seen coming, but this time he was the unknown party. “I know he’s dangerous. And I know why.”

As it turned out, Sansa’s why was not anywhere near close to yours and Jon why.

Sitting at the head of the table, Sansa had relayed the story. Arya, Bran and Jon all taking it in with the same understanding between them, and the same questions of why. The day Joffery had been poisoned, Ser Dontos whisking her away to something he called safety. Only to get to the ominous ship and slowly put together the truth of what Petyr Baelish had done and the lengths he went to frame it otherwise. Maester Wolkan helped direct the discussion, he and Jon both sharing the same glances of trying to piece together where this all fit into what they already knew. “He had me keep the poison without knowing it, and already knowing he was helping me escape he must have known too they’d blame me.”

Arya leaned forward with numerous questions of her own, the present one being the same on her brothers minds as well. “But if they arrested Tyrion Lannister right away, then he would’ve also assumed they’d blame him, since you running makes him look more guilty.”

“Like he was covering for her to escape.” Jon added of his own, his own eyes you felt glancing to you at the other end away from everyone else. Your pacing had gotten to the point you needed someone to take the baby for you because now you were the one who couldn’t settle. Something was eating at you this entire story.

You could believe Petyr Baelish had the resources to kill Joffery, and you knew why. It was the same why to the question of his betrayal of you and Ned Stark that day in the throne room. A man with seemingly no motive is a man they never expect. Until you thought darkly, until he plays that card too many times.

If your time with the Seaworths had taught you anything about gambling, and gods know Ser Davos’s eldest son Allard certainly spent much time teaching you to gamble when out at sea, you knew the best cards could only ever be played once. Otherwise the pattern be recognized too often. How many times now had Petyr Baelish played that card of feigning ignorance of his own betrayal. First yourself and Ned Stark, tricking Catelyn into betraying Robb, betraying Sansa herself by lying about his involvement in the attempt on your life.

But there was one element that kept picking at your brain. One person that came up again and again in Littlefingers lies and something stood out to you without knowing what. Your palms under the wrappings almost felt as if they were bleeding again, the feeling of the blade Catelyn fought against to save Brans life. The events played after were ones no one was left alive here to know but you, you and-

The moment the thought came to you, your head rose up slowly. Something washing through your veins in a realization so stunning you hadn’t even felt it’s cold take over the room and direct attention to you.

Your lips parted the moment it you regained your senses to focus on it, and yet the very second your eyes looked to Brans, to neither of your controlling, did yours and his both turn white.

#jon snow x reader #robb stark x reader #jon snow #robb stark #jon snow x you #robb stark x you #jon snow imagine #robb stark imagine #asoiaf #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire

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lele5429 · 6 months

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‘I need you to fight,’ the memory of Warriors’ voice whispers in his mind. ‘...trust that we’re right behind you.’

Hyrule pushes past the panic, the fear. He grins back.

“Is something funny?” the dark image of Sky asks him, crossing his arms.

“Yeah,” Hyrule laughs. “You’re so dead.”

One quick sketch of Hyrule from Chapter 61 of This is an Adjuration by @not-freyja

Mainly a study for unusual poses and facial expressions! (Pose with reference)

#linked universe #this is an adjuration #lu hyrule #fanfic writer appreciation

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afreakingdork · 6 months

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Weak Spot - Chapter 61

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Previous chapter art was removed 4/30/24, but as of 9/2/2024 feast your eyes on Leo's gasp of excitement for the new chapter art by @unknownfanartist

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis: A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut

Also available on Ao3

First 💜��Previous

Fem!Reader References/Warnings: hospital stay, vomiting, healing, mental breakdown

You were exhausted by every definition of the word. As long as you were awake there was something there vying for your attention and it left you drained. From healing to tests to visitors, occurrences were all around you. Sleep came in inevitable spurts and felt like your only respite. Consciousness was a thing to be dealt with as much as you wanted otherwise.

Your friends came in pairs.

Your ex-roommate, Coral, had apparently shown up more than once while you were unconscious, but upon seeing you, eyes open for the first time, she burst into her first actual tears. It left the two turtles always in your presence a noticeable speechless as she rushed over, but kept from collapsing onto you. In time though, she was in your bed and regaling you in how she attacked Leo assuming he was the cause. Leo corroborated the story citing how alike the two of you were which then led to Coral finding out about the S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. suit debacle.

She reigned hell down on the blue turtle for even thinking to touch the automaton.

As amused as Donnie was about Leo’s beat down, his own bitterness dictated he bring up how Coral still had beef with his son.

Coral said that was all in the past and Leo was left sputtering on what appeal S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. had to have charmed so many.

All the while, your nervous friend Nelson, who now lived with Coral, was fluffing a bouquet they had brought.

You heard Donnie throw him a comment about foliage and the two talked a quiet distraction as Leo sulked in a corner.

“So… Magic underground city.” Coral said, pushing your cuticles back even though you’d told her multiple times how much you hated it.

“It’s maybe another dimension?” You wanted to yank your hand free, but it would be too much effort.

She slowed, studying your nails. “You’re not going back, right?”

“No, I was already over it, but now…?” You sighed.

“Never.” Donnie cut through both conversations with bitterness.

“Good call.” Coral pointed to him without looking. “Sucks about your library though.”

“Library…?” Leo didn’t glance over as his phone was now in hand.

Donnie’s gaze pointedly narrowed where Nelson could see it.

Your nervous friend tilted his head with concern.

Leo heard the silence and it pulled his gaze. “The mystic library?”

“Leo…” You warned.

“If there’s a detail left out that can help the investigation…” Leo pressed back, sitting upright.

“It’s not related.” You decided.

“How would you know?” Leo bristled.

“Can you not bitch about Y/N’s memory loss? I’d suppress the thing too, damn!” Coral hissed.

“Sorry, I’m trying to cover my bases and make sure there isn’t a larger plot to kill them.” Leo mimicked her tone.

She glowered.

Donnie exhaled quietly.

Nelson gave him a sad smile.

Donnie took it with a slight nod.

You knew Nelson knew as much as Leo, but even he could sense the line.

“Them.” Coral spoke around her tongue. “Going soft, blueberry? Don’t you and grapes over here have mega beef?”

Leo was on his feet with furious eyes, but he stayed rooted in place.

Coral only cocked a waiting brow at him.

Leo’s gaze narrowed.

Her smile grew.

“Why don’t you talk motive then, detective sea rocks?” Leo walked over, gearing up for a challenge on the way.

“Omigosh, I’ve never heard that one before.” Coral feigned a gasp behind a hand before tucking an arm around you to appear more casual. “I’ll bite.”

“Please.” Leo pulled up a stool and took the position of the Thinker.

“We got vacation gone wrong and a jealous ex.” Coral shrugged as if that were obvious.

Donnie reared.

Nelson held up anxious hands.

Leo bit down on a bark of laughter. “Ex, huh?”

“Oh yeah, this has crime of passion written all over it.” Coral pointed at your bandages. “Don’t you think?” She lolled her head toward you.

You weighed your response before looking at your boyfriend. “Donnie’s never mentioned one.”

Donnie shot Coral specifically, an embittered look. “At best, the yokai in question was marked in my database simply because they were part of the police department. I have no greater notes and no further ties.”

“Knew you read turbo virgin.” Coral lowered her lids as if Donnie had walked right into her trap.

He only stared back.

Leo lasted one entire second before he began to cackle so hard it spun his chair.

It stung, but you knocked your head against Coral’s.

“Hey!” She squawked, more for your sake.

“Leave him alone.” You switched your grip as fast as you could and dug your nail into her nail bed.

“Ouch!! What the fuck!?”

“Yeah, it hurts!” You sent her your disdain.

She sent her own.

“Y/N’s injured…” Nelson felt the need to remind the room.

Coral ignored him and left her hand in yours. “It has to be something like that though. To drug ‘em both, but only hurt Y/N. From what you described, it sounds like they wanted Donnie to watch.”

“Not my name.” Donnie grumbled.

“I got you multiple birthday presents, I’ll call you whatever I want.” Coral smoothed out her fingertips to yours.

You could feel Leo picking up the tidbits of closeness and how it rendered him further confused.

“Evidence schmevidence.” Coral continued. “They had a hard on for purple.”

Leo tapped his stool. “Nothing we don’t already know.”

“How long was he on the force?” Coral was far more careful in examining the hand on your injured arm.

“Twenty three years.” Donnie replied.

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean anything to me.” She skimmed your digits. “How’s that fall into your timeline?”

“Coral, Leo’s here.” You sighed.

“So? Hey, blue balls, do you not know Plankton's backstory or what?” She didn’t look up.

Leo made a confused face at the nickname.

“You don’t know the back story.” You reminded her with a dull stare.

“I know some!” She huffed, proud. “Apparently more than pepper face.”

“I have two brothers. You aren’t coming up with an insult I haven’t already heard.” Leo seemed both amused and not.

Coral shined him an all too wide grin.

Donnie was caught in thought. “Records indicate he became a beat cop around the time I became official.”

You leaned your head on Coral’s shoulder.

She laid hers on top. “Official how? He must have met you then.”

Donnie either felt lonely or sensitive because he crept up to your side. “I have no such memory.”

You held out a hand for him and he took it.

“How old are you?” Leo looked at Donnie, tepidly.

“Vivisection placed me at approximately 35.” Donnie responded, keeping his gaze to your hold.

Leo made a disgruntled noise.

“Vivi…” Coral mouthed before the word sank in. “Who cut you open?!”

Donnie didn’t budge.

Coral checked with you, but you tucked your head away.

“He cut himself open.” Leo spoke with knowing disdain.

“How would you know!?” Coral glanced at him.

“I don’t, but I do. Look at how they just reacted.” Leo threw a hand up to gesture to you. “Besides, he used to always do fucked up shit to his body. I’m surprised he isn’t the one bed ridden.”

“Shame you’re so imprecise with that blade you supposedly trained your life with.” Donnie turned up hatred.

Leo’s body rose with a current of surprise and rage.

Nelson wandered into the line of fire. “U-uh w-we were talking about the common enemy!”

“You’re gonna get yourself killed. You have no sense of self perseveration, I swear. Nels, come here, stupid.” Coral removed herself from you and held out a hand.

Nelson resisted and stayed firmly in place between Donnie and Leo.

“Nels!” Coral growled.

The man in question shook his head.

Donnie stepped in closer behind him. “As good a time as ever for you to finally admit why you spared me that day.”

Leo didn’t break eye contact, but there was something unstable about him.

You didn’t know what Donnie was talking about.

“Y/N…” Coral pleaded with you.

You could barely hear her. “Donnie?”

Donnie laid a hand on Nelson’s shoulder.

You took it as an indication that he’d be safe.

Coral went to move.

Leo blocked her with a raised hand.

Her shoulders hunched, ready to strike if need be.

“You were eleven or twelve when you became an official villain.” Leo finally spoke and the entire moment disengaged.

No collective sigh had, the humans in the room wilted.

“Same as me.” Leo mumbled out the side of his mouth.

“Approximately.” Donnie steered Nelson back towards the bouquet.

“The yokai was six times your age.” Leo spoke his thoughts.

“Gross.” Coral chanced, still shaken.

You nudged her lightly and she spared you a downtrodden look.

Leo nodded. “Surprised a newbie cop survived… Especially one that failed to get on the force three times.”

You felt a pinch in your head and looked toward your water cup.

Nelson was closer and got it before Donnie could.

You thanked him quietly and drank.

“Why’s that?” Coral ventured.

“Someone almost single handedly wiped out the force.” Leo bobbed his head toward Donnie without looking.

“At twelve…?” Coral looked at Donnie then you.

You had no defense.

You kept your eyes down.

“Not so fun galavanting with a murderer.” Leo barely kept a sneer in line. “Who doesn’t know enough now?”

“Leo, shut the fuck up.” You spat bile.

Leo only snorted and folded his arms.

He closed himself off.

For a long moment there was quiet.

Then Coral picked at your blanket. “Antelope lived…”

You were the only one to look.

“The bastard.” Her eye was on your covered body. “Obsessed with becoming a cop means he’s prone to going all in. Who’s to say he didn’t get high off living through an encounter with the demon child?”

Donnie’s eye darted as he connected the dots.

Your head hurt.

This was hitting the limits of your interactions.

You also had physical therapy scheduled soon.

You were about to mention it when Leo piped up. “His family all worked city jobs. If you fold in the mystic library, however it fits, then he’s obsessed with some duty to the city.”

In a sudden slam of your skull you had a vague thought about sacred spaces before your stomach churned.

As if socked, you hunched forward on a gag. “Gonna vomit…!”

Coral was out of the bed and Donnie was around you with a pan. “I’ve got you. Let it out.”

You gagged and spit as he rubbed your back.

“That’s enough.” Leo spoke softly. “Visiting hours are over.”

“Y/N…” Coral mumbled.

“It’s…” You choked.

“Y/N is alright. You’ll come back?” Donnie asked for you.

“Of course… Don’t worry.” Coral headed towards the door. “Nels, seriously this time.”

“Yeah…” Nelson maneuvered around Donnie and shot Leo a vicious warning look as he passed that only you and the receiver seemed to see.

Leo was scorned as the two parted with apologies and goodbyes.

With nothing coming up from the nausea wave, you eventually laid back and cursed to the dead air of the room.

Heading home after a month in the hospital was tainted by what you now thought of as your chaperone. It didn’t matter that you had been in a coma for three of those weeks, but in the hospital it had felt like one thing; Leo was there as an added pair of hands when you were at your worst. He gave Donnie a break when caring for you which you were endlessly thankful for. His mischievous side paired with his convenient powers meant you had all the contraband you could ask for from anywhere in any world. He also had a command over nearly the entire staff and, just as Donnie alluded to, you couldn’t help but notice that your hospital stay had been a positive one because of it.

In your own home though, he felt like a freeloader.

Leo was no longer as useful with no one to manipulate and he had a clear fear of touching anything in your place. His entire being was now closed up and often placed in parts of the apartment that he deemed safe. While he never said it aloud, the dart of his eye and paranoia you had learned of him spoke to how painfully aware he was of the cameras monitoring his every move. This was compounded by S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N., a walking manifestation of a bug in Leo’s eyes, who stopped by routinely to drop off supplies. Your son was an antagonist whether he realized it or not and he pressed Leo whenever he had the chance because he deemed it fun. You loved the automaton dearly, but his rambunctious nature meant his visits were shortened. Donnie couldn’t mediate and you were left missing his smaller form to sleep with as the best sentient heating pad on the market.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s human sized form had already been enough of a shock to Leo, so you assumed it had been decided that any more information about your son was to be kept under lock and key.

It was something you had to surmise as several decisions had been made without you. You might have found a way to ask, but guilt was eating away at Donnie for his failings already. He had to bury enough in front of his foe, because of his ninpo, and on top of being your caregiver, which meant he looked ready to keel over. You wanted to support him, but you yourself were still casted for at least another month. The spica had been your nightmare and even though you could technically walk with crutches, the threat of the plaster breaking at your hips, as you had been warned, hovered over you like a blight.

You had been assigned an in-home physical therapy.

Another invader in your home, she was kind, but she was yet another thing to think about and another barrier for Donnie to mentally navigate.

There were also the other turtles. Leo had been forced to essentially move in, which meant Mikey and Raph made excuses to drop by. It was clear their nerves were frayed over their brother’s new housing situation as it was, to them, in a lion’s den. Though each man was independent, there was a clear separation anxiety if only because of trauma. It just so happened that the source of all that was themselves and your boyfriend. It showed on all four turtles faces that this situation was progressing for too long and you were the cause.

You didn’t feel at fault.

You wished your body would heal faster and Mikey had offered to hit you with more mysticism, but having talked to the youngest had revealed the many side effects that could have taken place which put Donnie’s waiting room arsenal into perspective.

You’d told him no, that you would do this the old fashioned way, and in classic Mikey fashion, he had already moved onto the next thing.

You wished you could too.

While your assailant was no longer alive, it had been upsetting to find that the investigation had been one closed for lack of evidence. They Hidden City considered it open and shut without further motive. You weren’t sure if you were afraid of another attack stemming or in general, but anxiety took up the very little left of your sanity. You were back to near chase level concerns and it was the only way you were glad the apartment was never empty. You avoided windows and doors, but being in your own bed helped to an extent.

Heal.

You just needed to heal.

Then process.

There was a mountain of feelings to process.

If it wasn’t you, it was Donnie.

If it wasn’t Donnie, it was Leo.

If it wasn’t Leo, it was the other turtles.

Then your friends.

Then your job.

Then, everything.

One total week of your new homebound hell and you’d hobbled over to the kitchen by request of your therapist. You tried not to cry as you looked up at the cabinet that held cups. There were so many things you needed to do in order to free up a hand to reach them. It had already been an aggravating stepwise process just to get over here and having to wrangle your crutches away and back once again zapped the rest of your energy. A psychic collapsing, you were on the verge of tears for nothing and you wilted right there against your own counter.

The barest sound, not even a snivel, summoned the two men.

“Y/N?”

“Hey, you good?”

There was no escape.

No where you could even cry in peace.

Not here.

Not in the bathroom.

You could yell.

You had yelled.

You’d snapped at Donnie more than once.

The ugly side of healing, your frustrations with yourself leaked out and leeched up at those around you.

For Donnie, he took everything in a careful stride. He knew you didn’t mean it and gave you space while he was still just within reach. It still affected him, however. He’d paper mached himself into a pasted shell, but the cracks were evident. No matter how many layers he put on to hide it, pieces like that weren’t meant to be jostled. If you could have kept it in, then he wouldn’t be cracked.

You also couldn’t discuss this as there were prying tympanum.

For those reasons, Leo became your target.

You hated that.

He accepted it all too easily.It felt wrong in how calmly he’d take the barrage.He wasn’t like Donnie where he understood why you were lashing out. With Leo, it almost felt like he’d been waiting his whole life for the punishment. It spoke of many things, all too haunting and not yours to deal with. As much as he’d stomped into your life, you couldn’t help, but grow a certain fond of him. He’d helped you, he helped your mate, and he did it all after he and the ones he loved most had been terrorized for almost two decades.

Tears ran currents down your cheeks and you huffed feeling the pain of crying.

The scar tissue around your liver sat like a rock in your abdomen.

Your shoulder muscles ached near constantly.

The healed line along your ribs was taunt skin that tugged if you bent at any angle.

The damn cast sat unrelenting around your hips and deadened everything.

You choked a sob and you sensed both men flanking you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Does something hurt?”

You only shook your head.

Irrational.

Was that the right word?

No, you had justification.

It still sucked.

“Leo!” You quacked out against the barrage.

You could tell the men apart without looking and turned to your right where he was standing with a certain amount of surprise. “Yeah?”

“I need… I need time with Donnie. Can you… go do something, I don’t know… Just for a while?” You hadn’t meant for the water works to sway him, but you felt how messed up your face was when you sent your plea.

It snapped Leo’s expression shut, but there was a haunted quality to his eyes.

You knew that.

You knew your messy emotions were a threat to Donnie’s ninpo.

You just wanted some damn time to grieve with your partner.

You hadn’t had a single real moment alone with him.

All of this thankfully seemed to translate because Leo eventually gave a curt nod. “Sure. I’ll go… out, I guess. Just for a bit, but you message me if anything, anything, happens.”

You agreed and watched him go.

You waited until the door clicked shut before turning on Donnie.

He wrapped you up in his arms the best he could and brought you close.

Was this the first real hug you’d gotten from him since leaving the hospital?

You despised that.

“It’s too much!” You were forced to give the emotions voice.

Donnie nodded into your head.

“I miss you! I hate this. I can’t…!” You rooted into his sweater.

He continued to rhythmically concur.

“And you…!” You pulled back and he loosened to give you space to.

Your hands sat useless against his plastron.

Having to keep your crutches to your body meant you could reach even less of him.

You were too addled to press him and he wouldn’t allow his emotional veneer to fall.

It was a new one that you loathed.

It was different from the one he used in public for safety.

This one clung to him sickly and all the time.

It was the one that kept his powers at bay.

Shut and locked away, your watery eyes morphed his expression.

It was selfish to think he’d cry along with you, but you wanted him to so badly.

You wanted him to be able to express his own anguish.

You knew it was there.

Trapped along with everything else.

“You…” You wilted against him.

He held your pieces together.

“I miss you…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t-!” You banged his plastron.

He did nothing.

“Don’t… do that.”

He was at a loss.

“You had to. I wouldn’t be here otherwise…” You pressed your forehead just above his pectoral scutes. “You saved me. Full stop, no cost.”

“Leonard-”

“Leo nothing!” You came up glaring. “You saved me! I’m talking about you!”

His face sat neutral.

Throwing your weight against him to steady yourself, you released both your crutches to grab at his head, unencumbered. He caught your waist for balance and you used his distraction to pinch and pull his cheeks as far apart as you could. His teeth appeared stretched and he made the faintest noise of discomfort.

“You can’t even churr…” You let go and did nothing to soothe what you knew stung.

You watched his lip move as he tried to conjure something, but nothing came so he sent a metered sad gaze down at you.

“You can’t…” A few more tears loosed. “You can’t anything…”

“Y/N…”

“I can’t help you. I can’t do anything. This all-!” You nearly bit your lip and huffed to let it quiver.

Donnie nodded, the strain showing in lines on his face. “My research is coming up bare.”

“Yeah?” You leaned in close, having figured he was up to something like that, but you hadn’t had a chance to really talk.

“It seems the rat destroyed the surviving Hamato documents in a fit of letting his sons free the shackles of their destiny.” You could tell saying the sentence alone almost made Donnie vomit.

You couldn’t lean up, but you tilted your head and he came down enough to accept a peck to the cheek.

“The rest are cagey about details.”

You ran your hands along his arms. “I guess that makes sense; if they don’t teach you then you can’t use it against them.”

“But we’re inexplicably tied because of it.” Donnie’s brow furrowed.

“You’re too dangerous to leave alone.” You sighed at the conundrum.

“Contained for so long…” He had a haunted edge to his eye. “It’s as though it aggravated the ninpo’s release. It doesn’t feel as though I can be put back within the tomb of my body. It flows violent and endless… Illustrative of me… I suppose.”

You squeezed him.

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. and I are scrounging for records. Ninpo differs heavily from mysticism. It’s far more powerful, but it’s…” Donnie sneered. “Nonsensical. You get it by trusting family? Why? The blue bastard mentioned saving the red rube, but he’d done that dozens of times prior to whenever they unlocked it.”

“Right…” The memory dawned on you. “You saw them before like they were and then they suddenly had powers.”

“They even changed outfits.” Donnie stuck his tongue out the slightest bit.

You felt your spirits raise with how cute the action was.

He noticed and sucked the pink bit back in.

You accentuated the purse of your lip.

He mentally chewed for a moment before darting down and licking your cheek.

You squeaked and giggled into him.

He relented for a few kisses before pulling away.

You hadn’t dared test it and the mood was terrible with Leo around, but you knew Donnie was worried what even the most innocent of romantic thoughts would do to his ninpo. The most touch you’d dared was when you’d have to me moved or stabilized. He relegated the work to his hands so it came as a shock a few days ago, when you’d given up after being unable to change your own shirt due to a muscle spasm. Donnie’s body had pressed yours while he helped you and the heat there felt like something new.

Your mind was pained by the deficit, but your body had forgotten so quickly.

You cuddled close to him and, for a moment, felt those thoughts were unwarranted; he was always here. “Not everyone can nail their suit on the first try.”

“I made a few upgrades over the years, but style wise…?” He let the sentence hang.

“Spooky.” You peeked up at him.

“You think I’m spooky?” He leaned down with a faint leer.

You nodded and kissed the tip of his beak.

“The stalemate stands, but it seems there’s been improvement?” He murmured, hovering close.

“With you, me, or them?” Again, you felt the weight of the many thoughts crushing you, but this time you felt them held mutually with your boyfriend.

“Me…” He had a starting edge. “This…” He tried again. “We haven’t gotten a moment like this.”

“It seems alright…?” You tested him by swiping an all too light finger along the side of his neck.

His eyes shut and he gave the faintest shiver.

Your finger danced at his collar.

His lids lifted and showed his clear gaze. “I would say so.”

You smiled into him.

He took a longing press from your lips before he came away with a chuff. “Your improvement isn’t linear, but is obviously occurring. That’s as to be expected and as for… them, we continue regardless of their existence.”

You felt a similar lightness in him and chased it with a nipping kiss.

He allowed himself to languish in it.

Reassurances.

Hadn’t you both agreed long, long ago that those were necessary?

“How long do we have before I need to finish my homework and walk back across the apartment?” You glanced at your fallen crutches and back to him.

He had the faintest little smirk and curled around you under the guise of gathering your sticks for you.

“Ten more…”

Pulling at the resistance band, you rattled with a whine as you didn’t think you’d make it.

Across from you, your physical therapist was standing close and you despised the thin layer of sweat coating your body. It was so little effort to have taxed you this much. She also could undoubtedly smell the BO. The worst of which had to be the cast which was building odor from the lengthy use. Having been in it for almost two months, it made sense, but it was yet another reason to despise the damn thing. Donnie and Leo had yet to say anything, but you could tell by the way they turned their beaks that the pungent odor was worse for them.

Humiliation on top of misery caused you to rush the last six reps.

“Woah, woah. We gotta go slow to build that muscle…” The physical therapist caught you immediately.

“Just a… second…” You wheezed.

She traded you a bottle of water and held the band as you drank it down greedily.

Nearby Donnie stood with an arm crossed against his torso and a hand covering the bottom half of his face.

As you came away panting from labor and oxygen deprivation from drinking too much water, you knew that to be his PT position. He assumed it in every session you’d had so far as he wasn’t allowed to be present for the ones in the hospital. You wanted to ask why he always appeared the same, but you hadn’t been able to. A literal workout, you only wanted to wash up and then bury the exhaustion afterward. By the time you were back to the barest energy levels, you tabled it because another session was the last thing you wanted to ruminate on. During, however, you’d see him and wonder.

Was he holding himself back?

Was it hard to watch you struggle?

Did he want to help?

He never once interfered or made a noise. He kept his distance unless coaxed, which would sometimes happen if the physical therapist needed to demonstrate how to do your homework-type exercises. She was only scheduled to come by three times a week so you were expected to continue even when she wasn’t around. He took that job with a severity and was a menace about you having exactly the right posture to maximize healing. You knew beside his search to control his ninpo, he’d been studying everything there was to know about your particular injuries, but neither field seemed to be progressing.

Leo, on the other hand, almost always used your sessions to nap. You were sure he was worried in the beginning. He probably thought Donnie would fly off the handle at seeing you taxed, but instead Donnie stood as an intent observer. Seeing that to be the case, Leo took these moments as time off. Never a guest, Leo had fallen into a fixture-like role in your home over the course of two and a half weeks. It never felt like he truly moved in, though he rarely ever left, which made him almost an odd lamp you wished you could toss out. The couch was where he frequented and you assumed he was hidden there where you couldn’t see. His break while you busted your butt stung worse than Donnie’s hovering. It’s not like you wanted him around while you worked out, but him acting like these moments were vacations made you want to snap the resistance band in his face.

Even if it sometimes felt like it, neither man looked down at you.

You could do this and it was the only other thing you thought Donnie might be thinking. As much faith as you had in him, he had equal droves for you. If he was watching to see each sweat droplet marking your progress, it filled your chest with pride. Even when you failed to complete a full set, your physical therapist still congratulated you and marked each time you were able to go even the tiniest bit farther. Donnie knowing and being there to see each time you improved helped your resolve. You’d push past this because you wanted to. He was there to see it and you’d show him exactly what kind of resolve his mate had in the face of adversity.

You really needed to confirm how he felt.

For now, unfortunately, you shared a readied look with your trainer and they nodded, setting you back up to continue. “You’ve got this.”

“Yeah…” You stretched out the phrase and put tension on the band.

A purple light lit up somewhere behind you.

Three occupants of the apartment shot to look with rigid fear as the fourth casually turned.

Donnie’s computer was glowing at maximum strength and S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s little icon was jumping up and down on screen.

“That’s cute…” The physical therapist chuckled. “Did you download that?”

“Ah-ha… yeah…” That wasn’t exactly a lie, but you were still sweating over thinking Donnie had manifested a legion of artillery.

Donnie was in furious motion.

A small smile slipped on your lips as he was sure to scold S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. for scaring everyone even though he’d be careful in his wording to not admit that was the case.

What was curious was Leo scurrying around the corner and into the bedroom.

He had a nervous twitch to his brow and it took you an exhausted second too long to realize it was because he was running from S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. It prompted a new kind of grin that Leo pointedly ignored.

“Hey, Lucinda, what’s shaking?” Leo played it cool and offered a fist bump.

Your physical therapist met it casually. “Oh, you know me now? Finally done ignoring me?”

“Not ignoring…” Leo leaned to one side and snapped a playful gaze right back. “It’s business. I’m on the job. Gotta act all tough and serious, you know!” He tucked his hands into his pockets and bobbed his broad shoulders.

“Uh huh.” She didn’t seem to believe it for a second and gestured for you to keep going.

You did exactly one rep before you had to stop. “Okay… no… You two know each other?”

“Oh yeah.” Lucinda said it like it was some kind of big thing.

“We go way back.” Leo joked the same way.

You stared on, unamused by the show.

Lucinda broke into a smile. “Fine, Leo here once forced his way into my old office to train.”

“Forced is a strong word…” Leo’s eyes rolled in a way that said he was avoiding guilt.

“He pretended to be an injured patient and then pelted us with a thousand questions until my boss got wind and yelled at him.” She clarified.

Leo made a sheepish high pitched noise that whittled down to a nervous chuckle. “I did get hired on though.”

“How’s Mikey?” Lucinda tapped your band.

You took a deep breath and went through your last reps.

“Good. He regained nearly all motor function, but he hasn’t quit the health nut bit.” Leo watched you with a trainer’s eye.

“I haven’t talked to him in a few years, but it was no joke. He was always onto some cutting edge stuff.” She seemed amused.

“You don’t live with him.” Leo huffed.

“You’re too hard on your family.”

“You know us Hamatos.” Leo banged his chest once to accentuate his tough plastron.

She sent him an arched brow that said she didn’t appreciate the joke.

Leo shined her a bright grin.

You drank a bit more from your bottle and let the pieces fall into place. “Mikey’s hands…”

The other two perked up.

“I thought this was a job?” Lucinda sent a suspicious glare towards Leo.

Leo pointedly looked away. “You know Mikey!”

“Cause Mikey gets around, right?” Her sarcasm cut thick and felt like a stark contrast to the concise person she was at work.

Leo laughed nervously before turning a wild gaze to you. “You know Luci here went into PT because she was a bully!?”

“Now, hold on!” She shot to her feet.

That spelt the truth for you and while you still wanted other answers, you were amused by their display.

“Yeah! She has a thing for making people hurt and figured this was the field to go in!” Leo cackled.

She had to jump, but she pinched his cheek and dragged him right down to her eye level. “In front of my patient!? Nu-uh!”

Leo couldn’t help, but laugh and you joined.

“If you know him, then you know he lies through his teeth.” Lucinda released him and dusted her hands.

“He’s always working an angle.” You remarked.

“Yes!” She pointed at you with a grin. “If he wasn’t a hero, he’d be a total grifter!”

“What’s that old bit? Selling stolen VCRs?” You mused.

“Yes!” She reached out and patted your good arm in appreciation.

“How old do you think I am?!” Leo looked between you two.

“Considering I just found out a little more than a month ago…?” You pretended to wonder.

“Month?!” Lucinda rounded on Leo again. “What is the deal here?”

“Yeah, Leo? What’s the deal?” You spread a grin on thick.

Leo held up his hands and his brow came down in irritation. “Come on… You don’t need to gang up on me!”

“Then explain! I’m not trying to assume anything, but it’s hard not to notice my patient’s partner is also green.” Lucinda folded her arms to wait.

You blinked once as the connection hit you.

The news knew Donnie as a masked villain from the turtle’s rogue’s gallery.

The truth was far more complicated.

You wondered if Leo had ever dealt with this before.

“You know what they say about assuming?” Leo had a stark edge.

You knew the joke, but his serious attitude just barely threw Lucinda off as she said, “No…?”

“They make an ass out of you and me.” Leo didn’t let up his serious nature as he clapped a hand to her shoulder.

It took exactly one second for the joke to hit her and she shoved him. “Ugh, I hate you!”

“She’s mad she couldn’t hurt me because I don’t have a poppable spine.” Leo held up a hand as if telling you a secret.

“Would you-!?” She swatted at him and he easily dodged while he continued to laugh.

“You know…” You did your own solemn positing.

Lucinda stiffened.

“You haven’t denied anything he’s said about you…” You marked the end of your sentence with a jeering grin.

Her lips flattened out into a caught line and it was her turn to assuage guilt. “That’s-! I mean-!

You pretended to wait.

“Fine!” She wilted. “I’m not a bad guy though! It’s my dad! He always had me walking on his back or pulling his arms and stuff as a kid! I loved the sound! So I might have bugged my friends and got a reputation for being the resident finger popper! Look how it turned out! All’s good at the end of the day!”

You gave her an affectionate smile. “That’s cute actually.”

“No, it’s not!” Leo bellowed and then openly shivered. “You two can’t hear just how loud those sounds are! There’s a fizz almost like soda between the joints! Eugh!!”

“And my boss wonders why you didn’t stay on…” Lucinda shook her head.

“That’s not why-!” Leo bit with a lighthearted edge.

“Why did you…?” The question leaked out from you even though it meant you interrupted.

The pair looked at you before Lucinda turned with a look that said she knew her story had been shared and thought she deserved to reveal something of her own. “I don’t know how close you are, so he might try to argue, but he hopped on to help his baby bro out at like 18ish. You still had a baby face then.” She turned to coo at Leo.

He sneered.

“He was real cagey about it, I just mentioned his whole fake spiel, but the boss took pity on him and hired him to clean up so he could unofficially work on the job.” Lucinda continued and bumped Leo to show she was doing it in good will.

He took it with a sigh.

“Those cracks on Mikey’s arms?” You asked before another thought hit you. “The tear in space time…”

“The what?” That was news to Lucinda.

“Hup-hup-hup!” Leo’s hands waved viciously between you and during the flurry he sent you a look that said you were right, but you needed to drop it.

“You know!” You quacked. “Because they look like the time rifts in movies!”

Lucinda evaluated both of you evenly before she gave a slow nod. “Yeah, they kinda do… Anyway, Mikey was a rough case. Terrible loss in coordination, muscle tearing, spasms… I really felt for him. The whole office did once Leo finally brought him around.”

Leo turned his head, oddly not liking this spotlight.

You studied him as he usually seemed more like one to preen.

“His recovery was… amazing.” Lucinda moved on. “Mikey was so motivated. He ended up always lifting spirits at the office.”

“He does group therapy now.” You offered.

“Of course he does.” Lucinda gave a smile that said she didn’t know it, but wholeheartedly believed. “Great kid. Both of you.” She slugged Leo affectionately.

“Yeah, yeah…” Leo brushed her off with a sly smile.

“Your turn.” Lucinda pointed at you.

“Next set?” You pulled the band up, ready.

“No, why this is all hush hush?” She gestured around.

Leo shifted, trying to cover how uncomfortable he was.

You kept your eye on him.

You guessed you didn’t blame him for still thinking the worst of you.

You weren’t his biggest fan, but he’d come through for you and Donnie in a major way.

In this instance, you couldn’t imagine throwing him under the bus. “Hero business.” You gestured down your half wrapped body. “He got sucked into dealing with my attack.”

“You were…!” Lucinda trailed off as she caught herself. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t my place…”

“It’s okay. You’ve been amazing. You’re really good at your job.” You meant every word.

She smiled with a tinge or relief.

Leo was looking at you in a similar way.

Donnie made a small noise.

You all turned towards him.

He coolly glanced between the group before landing on Lucinda. “Something urgent has come up. I need to step out for a moment.”

“Sure. We got this. Right, Y/N?” She turned to you.

You were about to respond affirmatively when Leo cut in.

“What.” Leo’s flat tone held accusation instead of question.

Donnie only flicked him a glance.

“Donatello…” Leo spoke weighty, painfully aware of the company.

“I’ll be nearby.” Donnie relented that much before looking at you.

With no indication on his facial features, you saw in his eyes that this was something wholly necessary and had to do with his ninpo research.

You turned to Leo and hoped you betrayed as little as Donnie. “You still remember how to do this, Leo?”

He resisted looking away from Donnie before his eyes fell to you and the resistance band in your hand.

“Sure.” There was a tart quality to his voice before he reached for the rubber. “Sure, yeah. I use these to warm up at the gym.”

Donnie gave you one last look that had a tinge of longing before he departed.

Leo demonstrated stretching the band behind his back and Lucinda pushed you to try the as of yet attempted advanced maneuver. It pinched your shoulder, but she held your arm, ready and testing, to make sure you could execute safely. You manage three tugs before you wilted in pain and she passed you a cloth to dab your sweat.

“Amazing. Seriously. You’re really working hard and I can tell you aren’t skimping when I’m not around.” She soothed you.

You hummed a sort of laugh into the towel. “The walks around the apartment suck the most.”

“Oof when we get you out of the cast and onto the bars?” She sympathized.

You groaned lightly until a chirpy ringtone went off.

You pulled your towel down to find Lucinda making a tight face and looking at a phone in her hand. “I apologize. I don’t normally take calls while working, but…”

Her eyes were glued to her screen and you sensed a problem. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks.” She answered. “Hello?”

You watched her walk into the living room and sank where you were propped at the edge of the bed.

Leo was looking to the side as if he could see through the walls to where Donnie had gone.

“He’ll be right back.” You tried to calm him.

Leo said nothing and slipped his hands into his pockets as he waited.

Lucinda’s voice grew worried and both of you were soon trying your best not to pry as she came over with a fit waging on her features. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’m going to have to cut today’s treatment short. Something… I need to-”

“Everything okay?” Leo turned, his eyes examining.

“My mom fell. She’s already at the hospital and they say she’s stable, but I need to go.”

“Go, go.” You urged. “I’ll work through what we’ve done before.”

“Thank you. Hold onto the equipment. We’ll pick up with your session in two days.” She went for her bag nearby. “Actually, Leo can lead. Leo try some passive internal rotations and elbow extensions if possible. Otherwise, cool down.”

“You got it, boss.” Leo snapped his finger into pointing at her. “I’m sure your mom’s tough, she raised a bully after all.”

Lucinda snorted and waved him off with additional goodbyes as she left.

For a moment you both sat in silence.

“So... Passive… what now...?” You tried the air.

Now having his worries double, Leo looked at you with a waning expression before he wadded up the band. “Okay, we’re seriously doing this. Uh… Let’s see…”

“Why’d you say it like that?” You held a confused look and reached for the band.

“Maybe because I haven’t done PT in years?” He mirrored you and slapped your hand away.

“Hey!”

“So passive internal rotations work your supraspinatus…” He circled as if looking for something. “We need something long. Hey, do you have his stupid stick?”

“Are you joking right now?” You gave him a dull stare.

“No. It’ll work really well for this.” Leo approached you with an even temper.

“He keeps his bo on him.” You shook your head lightly.

“Damn.” Leo folded his hands on his hips. “The band is too stretchy. How about a big ruler?”

“Leo.”

“What’s it called? A yard stick?” Leo again did a little turn. “What else would be straight…?”

“Leo.”

“We could skip it for elbow extensions, but those are tougher…” He gave a weighty sigh, his eyes still moving.

“Hey.”

“Maybe we could sneak a curtain rod? There’s enough of them…” He looked past you to glare at the layers behind you on the windows.

He didn’t seem to hear you.

“Or this… thing?” He gestured to the canopy where the drapes were temporarily pinned out of the way.

He apparently also couldn’t remember he could portal to get anything he needed.

“It’s too clean!” Leo took a step that you clocked as nervous. “There’s stuff, but this place is…”

You tilted your head, studying him more carefully.

Like a slow cropping of data, you saw him piece by piece.

The barely there worried crease of his brow.

The way his lips kept parting the slightest amount.

The constant rove of his pupil.

His entire body was one twitch away from spasming.

“Leonardo.”

You watched the jolt happen in real time before he looked at you.

His gaze betrayed him.

It wasn’t that you called to him, it was how.

That was how Donnie said his name.

It made sense and you felt your expression sadden.

There it was again.

Everything was too much and you’d missed something so obvious.

It was like Leo though, you thought, to be the best at bearing the burden. Similar to how he accepted when you lashed out, it was his curse brought upon himself as you’d always seen it. He took his duty as his life and the current of which was basically cohabiting with the person who he considered had ruined it. His paranoia hadn’t evaporated just because he’d seen a new side of Donnie, he’d simply saddled up with his biggest fear so long that he’d grown a certain amount of numb to it.

He was also clearly entrenched in a never ending panic attack and his little naps during your physical therapy took a new light.

Donnie hadn’t been sleeping at night, but he had the dual excuse of fearing for his ninpo slipping in his sleep.

Leo had to keep one eye open from the couch.

“Why’d you…” He had almost a laugh to him though it was soaked in a certain level of misery he couldn’t keep out of his voice. “… say it like that?”

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for a while.” You couldn’t move so you reached for him.

He only looked at your hand and twisted the resistance band up between his own.

It acted as a shield.

He had to keep his barrier.

“Leo… Do you need a sec-?”

“Elbow extensions!” He cut in, his eyes wild and unfocused. “Okay so let’s see how high you can reach!”

At this rate he was going to break.

Something was making this worse.

What was it?

Had he been at his limit?

What had pushed him?

You tried to trace back, but found little.

You reached up lightly in hopes he’d feel compelled by how you hadn’t dropped your gesture.

“How high!” He repeated as if he were the unseen coach on a television set.

You moved to raise your arms and felt the pull in your shoulders. “Leo, I’m not so sure-”

“Push it!”

“Leo!” Your hands just barely surpassed your head, but the muscles in your healing shoulder locked.

“Shit.” In a quake, his gaze honed and he came closer. “Hold still. Try not to drop it.”

“That’s easier said than done…!” Your expression pinched.

He fought against himself before slinging the resistance band over his shoulder and cupping his hands around your rotator cuff. “Slow, we’ll work it down. What was I saying…?”

“What’s going on?” You had unintentionally caught him.

“Don’t.”

“Leo.”

“This isn’t fair.” He pressed lightly into the muscle.

You jumped, but made it did little more than strain your insides.

He gave a soothing shush and rubbed with a lighter touch. “It’s a cramp. Give it a second.”

“In that second, you could tell me-”

“I’m not doing whatever you think I will. Not here. Not ever.” He glared at your arm instead of you.

Not here.

That was an odd specification.

Leo had been holding back.

He had his own emotional mask.

He paraded as a habit.

There was more than he let on.

You wished you had a better read on him.

You felt out of sorts.

Your usual prowess was diminished by the many stressors.

How could you pay attention when there was too much to watch?

You felt like sludge.

A dozen mental monitors were on and all of them vied for your attention.

In a single blink, you were sending a wide gaze to Leo.

His lips flattened out as if caught.

You watched a bead of sweat pock his forehead.

It wasn’t enough to trickle, but it was there.

He still had your arm.

It had yet to loosen.

“Darling Protocol.”

It was enough that Leo stopped.

“Cut all feeds until Donnie returns.”

For you, nothing had changed.

For Leo, he seemed struck as if the command was for him.

Then his gaze rose.

He moved, still holding you and looked around the corners of the room.

“Leo…?” You tested in a tiny voice.

“They’re… off…” He rolled wariness to you.

“It’s just us.”

“That’s worse!” He shouted.

He was too close and you winced. “I thought that’s what you want-!”

“Well you're wrong!” He pressed too hard into rubbing your shoulder.

You squeaked in pain for a moment before your arm suddenly drooped.

Leo shot several feet away and looked at you like he might explode.

“That’s…” You were extremely careful in testing your shoulder in a roll. “… way better. Wow.”

“Turn them back on! What was with that name? What is wrong with you!? It’s always something! Always you!”

“What are you talking about?” You exhaled irritation. “I thought you might want a break from the cameras. I’m trying to help! You’re the one acting like you’re caged up!”

“Yeah, because I’m locked in here with you!”

You stared at him openly.

His eyes sat enormous and trapped.

“With… me?”

He shook and wrapped a hand around his throat. “Fuck. Forget it! Just forget I said anything!”

“Leo.” You looked for your crutches.

“You’re stuck!” He pointed and saw an opening where nothing had changed. “I can go over here and you can’t do a thing about it!” He headed toward the partition.

“You sound like you’re five! You’re really going to run!?” You shouted after him and your helplessness drowned you in droves. “What do you mean me!? Shouldn’t it be Donnie?!”

“Donnie!?” He mocked your voice and came far enough around the wall to send an incensed gaze. “I’m not scared of him! I’m scared of you-!!!”

The slap of his hand against his mouth was so loud it echoed.

You had no idea what was happening.

Each consecutive action he made seemed newer than the last.

Your powers of perception were a joke.

You didn’t know a single thing.

Your lips parted, but he moved first.

“Fuck!!!” He socked the wall so hard that cracks split and crawled around the edges. “Oh, fuck that’s worse…” He stared at his damage and wobbled further out into the open where you could see him. “No, no, no… What am I-?! Fuck! I haven’t been to the gym in months! I’m-!!!”

You could only watch as he fell apart.

Shreds of him unraveled with a spool and he made it a few more steps on a wobbly form. “Keep it together. I can keep it together.”

“You don’t have to…” You whispered as quietly as you could.

“I don’t have…” He mimed it back. “No…” He stabilized in a slouch. “Yeah, I don't. No. I’m fine. I’ve been fine. I’ll be fine.”

The whole of him lost mass like a dropped ball of yarn.

“Cool down. You need to finish your exercises.” He marched over, a snag still caught and he lost more of himself on the way.

You couldn’t believe he was trying to drop this.

“Close your eyes.”

“No.”

“I’m not going to look at that pathetic face. I’m not going to explain.”

“Are you telling me or you?”

“It’s a trick. You're trying to trick me and I’m not playing.”

“Stop answering then.” You sharpened your glare.

“I-!” He breathed hard as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him.

“Are you scared of Mikey too?”

Leo reared. “Why would I be?”

“He’s always trying to get you to go to therapy.”

Leo barked a single acidic laugh. “What? You think you’re helping me?! You have no idea!”

“Then tell me!”

“No!”

“Then stop acting out!”

“I’m not!”

“You cracked a wall because you’re scared of some human!”

“I’m not scared of you!”

“That’s not what you said!”

Leo rose as high as he could without going on the tips of his toes.

Instead of menace, you saw the last strings of his will holding him up.

The slightest press would cause what was left of him to unfurl and he’d be nothing more than a long line of everything he’d ever done.

You had a choice.

You could be his undoing or you could leave it be.

“Leo.”

You spoke.

He listened, his mouth a thin line.

You reached up with your good hand to gesture to your bad shoulder.

On his mirrored body, that’s where the resistance band still hung.

He loosely puppetted as you directed and, as he brushed it, it startled him.

You watched his gaze narrow more and more as he pulled the thing down to cradle in his palm.

A loose and floppy bit of rubber, he looked as though he’d sob over its lifeless body.

Instead he shifted his grip and wound the edges around his fists.

Then he pulled the band across his body and for a blissful moment, he wasn’t here.

He was at his beloved gym and his thoughts were clear.

He spoke.

“I don’t hate you. I’m not… scared scared of you, but damnit, Y/N.” He pulled the band as far apart as it would go and you thought it might snap. “I can’t… keep pretending like being around you is fine and dandy. I knew what to expect from Donatello. I knew…” The edge came again and he yanked so hard you saw a tear form in the middle of the band. “I knew…” Coiling his hands another loop, this time he pulled as if he had the intention to break it. “I knew-!” In a rapid bungee bounce, it split and both sides whipped him. “I knew I would never reach him! I banked on it! I pushed the others back after their attempts! I wouldn’t let them get closer! That left me! Did I think I could do it? Fuck no! I didn’t think I could do a single thing, but that’s what you do when you care! You stick your neck out again and again! You do everything you can! You put your life on the line! You show them-! You show them-!”

His own twine snapped, his entire being drooped.

“You know what I am?”

Your heart beat heavy in your chest.

“I’m…” He had to look away, loose straps of rubber dangling in his hands. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this.”

You fisted the loose sweats that fit over your cast.

“I’m jealous.” He told you, his eyes glazed.

You felt your own well.

“I’m jealous of you.” He doubled the effort and with it came pressure on his lips. “I’d buried it so goddamn deep. That’s where it was supposed to stay, but no! You couldn’t leave it alone! You kept digging! Every time! Every single time! Until you dug it out of me! I’m scared of that! I’m scared of what you keep doing to me! To us! You could have dropped it! I treated you like shit! You were supposed to drop it! You were supposed to leave. You weren’t supposed to make it! You were going to be my excuse! You would have been the final straw! Enough! So that I could finally… make it make sense! We made sense! We’d given up! That’s how we were! It wasn’t happy, but it was what we…!” He dropped the pieces he clung to.

Your throat swallowed your heart.

“I was a hero.” He hunched into himself. “I was the best. I was the leader. I saved everyone. I couldn’t save-!” He choked and sent prayers toward you. “You did it over a fucking sandwich!!!”

Tears loosed and dotted your hands.

“My family is all I have and I couldn’t save him…!” Leo’s knees hit the ground so hard it covered up the raw shout slicing his throat right before he went ghostly quiet. “I’m so tired.”

You pressed your hands to your chest to keep yourself in check.

He didn’t need your tears.

He didn’t need anything more from you.

No matter how, this was your doing.

“I only ever needed my family…” Leo wept.

You couldn’t move.

You couldn’t do anything.

You could only watch.

Leo shook out a few more tears before he held a hand up as if grabbing a pole.

A sword appeared in an etching of blue and from it he sliced into the floor and opened a portal.

He then drew his other limb, heavy as lead, up from his side where his phone was picked from his pocket.

He punched a few numbers in and stared over the abyss he’d created.

“Mike.”

You couldn’t hear the other line.

“Code green. Portals in the strategy room.” Leo pulled his phone away and you watched as his thumb slammed the end call button.

He then moved methodically, as if to sip elixir from the blue pool, and dipped his hand into the portal.

His arm jostled from some movement on the other side and then his muscles went taunt under his sweater as he pulled.

He fell.

Straight down and out of the apartment and, like a swapped mirror, Mikey was thrust up and out.

The younger brother spun around, clearly confused as he floated above the portal until it disappeared.

He then searched around until his eyes landed on you and he soared over.

“Are you okay? What was that? What happened…?” Mikey hovered close and gingerly took your shoulders.

It was the right amount of pressure and sobs broke free from you.

Mikey held you close and asked no more.

You didn’t hear the front door click, but you did hear Donnie’s voice. “I apologize. That call was… of… the…!”

He ran.

“Don-na-tello…” Mikey croaked through snivels.

“What’s…?”

As soon as you sensed Donnie close enough you shot your bad arm out, caught a fistful of his top, and yanked him in.

Mikey moved to one side and you clutched both of them to keep them together. It took Donnie several long minutes until he brought an arm around you.

💜NEXT💜

Through sickness and health, my darling betas have my undying love @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

#weakspotfic #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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