#I don't know if this can fit into the main story anywhere but it was funny so here it is

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

In Defense of Marinette

I like Marinette. While there are many valid criticisms of her writing, the same can be said for literally every other character and she's actually doing pretty well given that she's the main character. After all, in a show where consistent characterization is an ongoing issue, the one with the most screen time will probably be the one who's the biggest victim of the issue.

This is heavily exacerbated by the rule that supposedly governs Miraculous. Namely that, in each story, Marinette must make a mistake. Or, at least, so says the head writer:

I really do not care what this guy says on Twitter or anywhere else. I only care about what's in the show because, if you have to go outside the text to understand the text, then you have no idea how to tell a good story.

However, unlike many of the tweets that I've seen, this one isn't some BS bit of lore. It's a writing rule and it has substantial backing in the text. It's extremely rare to have an episode where Marinette comes out smelling like roses and that's a problem because Miraculous has over 100 episodes. In other words, to follow this rule, the writers have to come up with over 100 ways for Marinette to be wrong so of course she's going to come across poorly. Why would you do this to your main character?

It's extremely common for kids shows to have a "lesson of the day" element to them. Someone always needs to learn something, but I've never seen a show misunderstand the assignment so badly. Learning a lesson is not the same as doing something wrong.

It's been a while since I watched the 2010 version of My Little Pony, but it really leaned into that whole "lesson of the day" thing and it actually knew what it was doing, so I'm going to talk about it briefly to discuss things that Miraculous should have done.

The first thing to note is that MLP had an unambiguous main character - Twilight Sparkle - but Twilight was not the one who learned all of the lessons. She had a pet dragon and a crew of five friends who would, occasionally, be the ones to learn the lesson because there were lots of lessons that simply didn't fit Twilight's character. Instead of warping Twilight to make the idea work (cough cough Ikari Gozen cough), the writers just let someone else have the spotlight for a bit.

This is an excellent way to build out your cast and Miraculous had plenty of opportunities to do it. For example, Lila should not have been Marinette's issue. The fact that Lila hates Marinette could have certainly stuck around, but the one who takes her down and learns to investigate her sources? That should have been Alya. A liar is the perfect enemy for an investigative journalist, but a poor enemy for someone who shines as a battlefield commander and overthinks when she's given too much time.

Another way that MLP would teach lessons was to have someone other than Twilight or the main crew cause the issue that they then had to deal with. This leads to one of the best moments in children's television:

And, frankly? Marinette deserves a moment like this. That poor girl has been through hell and is never allowed to make the right call when it really matters. The show will even completely rewrite its lore to make her fail (see: Strike Back). That is such an awful thing to do to your lead! Shows about female empowerment should include women feeling powerful and, no, Lila and Chloe don't count!

Also, the show is literally about Gabriel taking advantage of people who are upset. You don't need to have Marinette make a mistake to shoehorn in a life lesson. Akumas are life lesson fodder and season 1 actually seemed to get this. I'm not sure why they switched gears to "Marinette is the star and, therefore, must always be wrong."

The final way that MLP taught lessons was to have Twilight do something wrong because having your main character do something wrong is a totally valid way to teach lessons. It just shouldn't be your only way because you know who is always wrong in children's media?

Villains.

They wrote Marinette like a villain.

And a large part of the fandom hates her for it because of course they do.

You're not supposed to like villains.

[saurongorthaur9]

As we get closer to the end of S2, I'm going more insane over who the surprise kiss is going to involve and whether they are going to go You Know Where. I keep playing the process of elimination game with any character who might share a scene with Galadriel at this point, and I just can't conceive who it could possibly be other than Sauron.

Elrond? It would come out of nowhere, they've said in interviews that Galadriel and Elrond's relationship is platonic, and there'd be the weird "kissing my future MIL" aspect of it.

Celebrimbor? Again, it would come out of nowhere, and Charles Edwards said in an interview that they aren't going with the "Celebrimbor had an unrequited crush on Galadriel" direction.

Gil-galad? Once again, out of nowhere, and it would just be weird and uncomfortable?

Arondir (since we know he shows up for the Battle of Eregion)? Unless Galadriel is his rebound for losing Bronwyn, it would make no sense and they've barely interacted in the series.

A minor elf character (Camnir, Mirdania, etc)? Again, it would come totally out of nowhere, and if it's significant enough for Morfydd to mention it, I really think it'll be with a main character. Plus, where would they go with that, since we know she eventually ends up with Celeborn one way or another?

Speaking of which...Celeborn? Still not 100% convinced that he might not make a very surprise appearance, but it just doesn't seem to fit with the "shocking" description nor the fact that some reviewers who have seen it threw an absolute fit over it apparently.

Adar? This is the one contender that I could see making *some* sense (not as much as Sauron though). There's definitely chemistry there, if not of any romantic sort (as of now), and we know they're going to have some big scenes together in the upcoming episodes. It would fall into the "shocking" category for sure, and I could see lorebro reviewers losing it over it for the same reasons as they would over Sauron. However, right now, I don't see it fitting into the story anywhere, plot-wise or thematically. But right now, it would make more sense than any of the prior possibilities.

Am I crazy that this just leaves Sauron? The character who they have spent two seasons establishing a connection with her and emphasizing that they are still very hung up over each other? The character who, whether you ship them or not, she has the deepest and best chemistry with? The character with whom a kiss would fit thematically (touch the darkness, etc)? Plus, I can think of multiple likely scenarios that it could occur during (a vision, as part of a Galadriel corruption arc if they go there, etc). And it would definitely be shocking and send lorebros into absolute conniption fits.

Like, I know I'm biased because I want it to be them, but truly is there anyone else it would make any sort of sense with? Tell me I'm not crazy (or tell me I am and explain what you're guessing/seeing that I'm not)?

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

Was reading over the reverie arc tag and saw that you said to re-ask you about Im after what happened is revealed. (I'd provide the link but tumblr won't let me) So, while not much was revealed, thoughts?

what i think is really interesting about imu is how they compare and contrast to the other characters who have been set up for us as endgame villains, those being blackbeard and akainu. compared to both of them, imu is established quite late in the series, and how they will fit into the unrolling narrative and themes of the story is still somewhat unclear.

both blackbeard and akainu are established firmly well before they enter the main story as primary antagonists. we hear about blackbeard as far back as alabasta and meet him in jaya, while akainu is first seen in robin's enies lobby flashback and mentioned even before that. and they each also embody a strong thematic conflict with the main characters that is going to need to be overcome by the end of the story.

blackbeard mirrors luffy in his pursuit of the pirate king's throne, existing in the same lineage of villains as doflamingo and big mom. it seems almost certain that he will be the final and most difficult fellow challenger for the title of pirate king that luffy will need to face, and the eventual showdown between the blackbeards and strawhats has been telegraphed for quite some time. the question this conflict asks is, what does it mean to be a pirate? what does it mean to be a pirate king?

meanwhile, akainu is the embodiment of authoritarianism. he's the law, brutal and indiscriminate; he represents the order that would stifle freedom. he is much more alike to antagonists like rob lucci and cp-9. while i usually try to avoid speculation on this blog, i think akainu's final defeat will probably not be at luffy's hands; i think a showdown with sabo is much more likely. and the reason i think this is because the question that the conflict with akainu asks is, what does real justice look like? this is ultimately the question of the conflict between the marines and the revolutionaries; they are two armies fighting over whether the current order will be maintained or torn down and built anew.

so, then, imu. we meet them quite late in the game, and still know very little about them. however, i do think this is in itself thematically resonant; we see almost no trace of imu anywhere else until we reach mariejois itself, because they have been deliberately erased from the world. imu is tied, specifically and inextricably, to the mystery of the void century, of the erased history, and we will only learn the truth about them when we learn the truth about everything else.

imu's role in the story seems to be specifically to finally provide a direct antagonist to the overarching myth arc of the void century, the forgotten ancient kingdom, and the will of d; the imperial crimes of the world government, shoved endlessly under the rug. can you build a world-spanning kingdom on a lie? will it stand? for how long? there can be no such thing as an immortal empire no matter how much force you might use to make it so. you can't pin the sun in place in the sky.

while it's impossible to really guess this conflict is going to unfold given how much information we still don't have, my top three guesses for who will be primarily involved are robin (for obvious reasons; unraveling the truth of the void century is her dream, and imu stands directly in the way of that), vivi (also obvious; imu is targeting her directly), and law (both because his new goal is to unravel the meaning of the will of d and because it seems significant that imu is likely a previous recipient of the ope-ope no mi's immortality technique).

[100babywarehouse]

(Transcript at the bottom, under cut.)

What is 100 Baby Warehouse?

It is exactly what it sounds like - it's a collection of sims that were the results of 100 baby challenges. In other words, this is a warehouse of sorts, and the only thing stocked here are sims. If you are looking for a spouse for your legacy, and you know exactly the kind of sims your heir likes, you may be able to find exactly what you're looking for here - if you're looking for a family-motivated male young adult, browse our selection to see if there's someone who fits your parameters. If your NSB rose gen needs some cute sims to woo, you can find those here!

Are there only "The Sims 4" sims here?

Absolutely not! You can play a 100 baby challenge in almost every sims game - I'm not sure about The Sims 1, but I know for a fact you can in 2 and 3. So, in our navigation page there will also be sections for sims strictly in TS2 and TS3.

I'm playing a 100 Baby Challenge right now. Can I submit a sim?

Yes!! Please! This blog will be EMPTY if no one submits sims, because I simply cannot play that many 100 baby challenges at once. I'm playing 2 right now, and that's hard enough.

Will you have sims for download if no one submits any?

Well, yes. But not very many, and not a good variety. There will be no TS3 or TS2 sims if no one submits any, because I don't currently have either installed. So please, if you have sims you want to share, please do!

Can I just make a post and tag you so you can reblog it, instead of submitting my sims?

That's perfectly fine too! I just have the submission page to make things easier on everyone, but if you want to make the post yourself and tag me, that works just as well. Just add @100babywarehouse anywhere on your post, and I'll see it and add it to the sim collection.

I don't play 100 baby challenge, but I want to submit a legacy spare. Is that okay?

While this is called 100 Baby Warehouse, this is also fine. I will have a specific category for legacy spares on the navigation pages, because I know that most people play legacies more than 100 baby challenges (including myself). Otherwise, this blog might be rather empty, and I don't want that! Either way, as long as the sim would normally be kicked out of the main house and forgotten, left to the whims of story progression, the sim is welcome in this collection.

If this is the 100 baby warehouse, does that mean there are only babies/infants, toddlers, and children here?

No! Definitely not! Sims of any age can be added to our "inventory." Even adults and elders. So if you want several teens for the teen angst story you are wanting to write, have a look around our teen category.

Can I download Aeli?

Not right now, sorry. Maybe later.

If you have a question you want me to answer, please feel free to send it to me! And if you're shy, feel free to ask it on anon. Just know that if too many people are nasty, anonymous asks will be disabled.

Transcript for picture:

"Hello there!

My name is Aeli, and I am the matron of this place. "What is this place?" You may ask. That's why I'm here - to guide you.

This is officially a "warehouse," as some may call it, but I think of it as an adoption center of sorts.

Here, you will find sims that have been forgotten, or abandoned, and left to the whims of fate (or story progression). Specifically, these sims were used strictly as stepping stones in a 100 Baby Challenge - in this challenge, the children are simply a means to an end, unless their challenge is done using the multiple matriarch rules, in which case the only child that matters is the final daughter of each matriarch.

And that's just unbearably sad to me.

All of these wonderful sims have such potential, they could have whole futures ahead of them, but they are denied that simply because that's how the challenge works. They are kicked out the instant they are no longer teenagers.

So here, we have a collection of many of these wonderful sims that Watchers in need may take in and care for, themselves. These sims can have any life they may dream of - or, well... have nightmares about.

Whatever life they end up with is up to you, the Watcher."

[maryhadalittlehobby]

Recap of IWTV Screening and Conversation at 92stY

(Please dont repost/reupload my pics or vids from here or IG anywhere else. Sharing/linkinh is ok. Thanks!)

I started the day with a fang gang meetup hosted by Black Girl Talks Fangs. The restaurant was cute and the food great. I'm not a big wine drinker but got a blood red Chateau in honor of the occasion. After, we headed over to the event space.

In my experience attending different events there, the actors typically come in just before the event starts or a few minutes into the screening.

In this case- it was both.

Eric strolled up super casual and had a convo with myself and a few other fans asking if we had read the books and what we were looking forward to. He gave a parting message that the season is amazing and he is not just saying that because he is part of it. I believe him. He was super personable and down to earth.

Delainey arrived next and again kind and generous with her time. She has a very chill energy. Her outfit was more casual this day but I thought chic and the face card never declines. Her makeup artist does her right! And can we talk about that sleek ass ponytail

She complimented my cosplay and said she thinks my beret might be the screen accurate one!

She asked to touch it and said mine was softer!

She also said Carol Cutshall gifted her the beret so she owns Claudia's.

I put this cosplay together in 3 weeks which is barely enough time. Thankfully I had the idea knocking around since October when we first saw this fit in the trailer that dropped at NYCC 23.

Myself and a few fans waited till about 15 minutes into the start of the screening before we gave up on waiting for Jam Reiderson.

While running to the screening I nearly literally ran into Rolin. I asked for a quick pic which he obliged.

The episode was amazing. Very much on par of season 1 so far. Can't wait to see the full thing. Delainey fit into Claudia seamlessly.

The panel itself was great as well. I have a few vids in my IWTV highlight on IG and a few others in an upcoming youtube video I will make AFTER the episode drops. There are some spoiler bits plus 92Y is dropping the full panel too after the ep airs.

Highlights include watching Jam Reiderson literally communicate telepathically- what was the fun on set story?!

Sam slapping Jacobs' lower inner thigh in front of god (Rolin) and everyone.

Working together is like putting on an old glove. An old sock?! Lol what. 'Is that dirty?'

Assad trauma dumping on main. "Armands lost...like me." "I'm intimidated by the cast" Sir please!

Assad also being spicy saying he thinks Armands memory of Lestat is pretty accurate. Drag him king😄

Delainey and Jacob gushing about how they immediately bonded and established their father/daughter/sibling vibes.

Eric calling Jam puppies and Jacob saying "I'm a grown man a parent"lol Sir you are a baby girl as evidenced by

Rolin saying that's a book and this is a show. To me that said was book lovers have the book and you always will but this is a new thing that respects the source but isn't tied down to every single detail.

Then Sam saying there are contradictions even within the series. Please lets talk about it.

And I love this new narrative everyone is spinning, even Sam, who seemed to be in the Lestat is right and Louis is lying boat last press go round. Now everyone is saying there is no right and wrong or truth and lies-the story is told by different people with different perspectives and that's all. Which yes! that's ALWAYS how I saw it! Just because Lestat became the main character and most favored doesn't mean he is infallible.

Jacob and that plushie. Who would have imagined he'd love it so much. Another fan was coming with their Lestat. I don't know if they had intentions of giving it to Sam but sadly they didn't make it.

After the panel I went back to the spot and aimed to get Jacobs signature on my Street of Immortality print which I managed.

I would have loved to get Sam's to but I also wanted to give other fans the chance to get photos and autos. I was already so lucky.

They signed for a loooong time. So long I thought our side wouldnt have a chance or only a few people would. Turns out fans were conducting mini interviews with them lol Someone needs to collect all the questions and answers.

Also they are the smallest cast you've ever seem. Pocketbsized. Everyone one of them is so unassuming.

Overall I had a super good time. The audience vibes were immaculate. The person beside me during the screening/panel was losing their shit then apologizing. But honestly I was here for it lol

Also you could 100% tell it was an audience full of the online fandom.

I ended the night checking out the Time Square ad. It was awesome to see our vamps represented. Hopefully we get a ton of new fans from all the amazing marketing this year.

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

32 - Peeking the Realms Woes

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

Length: 15.4k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, body shaming, derogatory language, mild descriptions of blood and gore, references to past torture/rape, past character death, smut, public sex, p in v, slight exhibitionism

Notes: If you're hungry for extra content, at the top of the masterlist there are 4 oneshots which are side companion pieces. All canon to the plot but just did not fit into any main story chapter. There's 2 prequel esque chapters, one smut based chapter set in an ambiguous point in the story, and a nsfw alphabet. Just if anyone's curious! Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

You had never walked and travelled lands as something called a Queen in any times but war. Not for a second in the Westlands did you nor Robb go anywhere without a number of guard, being in war torn enemy territory. But you also had an army camp anywhere between twenty to thirty thousand depending on where exactly your men were stationed at. You were always around a vast number of soldiers and guard.

In a similar fashion, you were somewhat used to it in Kings Landing. Either you had a flock of hens chattering about behind you at Cersei's insistence of giving you handmaidens. Or you had a guard with you most typically when travelling the streets beyond the Red Keep to the docks and waters but you also lived in a city with what now was likely close to a million people. It was normal to have a guard of at least one.

But here? In the North? It was odd. Trying to implore them to keep their distance most of the time as you appreciated the quiet. Jon had discussed it with Theon, where he felt he fit here now more and gave him his full trust to lead as the Queen's Captain of the Guard. Acting the one in charge knowing exactly when to force them to give you that quiet. It was not a long trip to get here, leaving early and not caring to stop until you reached it, but as soon as you did, they were allowed to stay guard and keep their eyes out but you were thankful Theon knew to force them to give space to what was unfolding.

The raven was simple, coming from Castle Black addressed to you specifically and the moment you had read it, a weight hit you once more. Looking at maps of the land to connect the paths of where exactly to go, knowing it would be a rather simple path to get there if they let you go at the speed you needed to get there quick. Jon was the one who insisted to send people with you, and Theon recognizing the protest about to come from you as he spoke up about gathering a few guards and himself. You had leaned somewhat against the table in a moment alone with a playful raise of one eyebrow, “I know it is a hard thing for you to imagine, but I think I can manage one teenage boy on my own.”

He had all but yanked you into his front at that one, a dark tease in his eyes with a tone that of an playful condescension. “How well did that go for you, when I was the teenage boy?”

Crossing your arms best you could in the space between you, your tone was flat and almost made the playfulness in his grow. “Most boys don't throw girls up against trees to ravage them.” Narrowing his own eyes he leaned down more into your face, feeling his breath dance along his skin as he questioned the word ravage. It was your turn to smirk as his face fell flat. “Oh, so if that wasn't my first kiss you're saying you would have had the restraint not to do anything more?”

His silence almost made you laugh, both of you knowing Jon had no rebuttal to such an accusation.

But it was now as you slowly walked through the snow looking at the remains of once was, and you once more could envision exactly what had taken place here. You knew too well what war looked like and it was easy to see how such a simple village was left in tatters and the remains frozen in time to remind of the pain. If any but him had been left alive, they ran and never returned to this place.

The homes were all small and quaint, much of the decaying remains of tools and lands told you much of their lives and work were outdoors together as a community instead of singular. It made it easy to target, and you knew that's why it would have been picked. It was a village of innocent people and such an atrocity was supposed to draw the Nights Watch out, as was the attack on Mole's Town.

Slaughter innocents to draw the good men out to avenge them, but they knew better and forced the wildling group to them instead. A fight which beyond North was stopped before it ever began with the help of the Baratheon army, but it was Jon's leadership that held off the entire fight from ending before it begun with the ones coming south.

But, that didn't mean the cost of getting them there wasn't devastating.

By the time you had seen Olly, you had such an imagine painted that you knew only agony would be across his heart once reaching where he stood. His back to you as there was one area he hadn't moved from since you arrived, and his eyes likely rarely blinked looking to it. Not easy to see through the snow and ice covering, but it was the remains of bodies. Winter had encroached on them early and what should have decayed to bones was left stuck frozen and the evidence of their use haunting.

No doubt he heard you approach, but it was his pain to address, not yours to guide. You dared not think about how long he had been here waiting, or the heaviness in your heart at how he knew you would come without question. Coming up to his side, you stood close and watched as he did. He had told you what the threat one of them made was, and the degree of mutilation you knew in some mercy was done after death. Easier to carve into a body to eat if they aren't alive to fight back.

You were both quiet for a long time, and when words finally spoke, it was with a shaking breathe stemming from such a heavy heart did Olly finally find the right words to form. “He wasn't the first person I killed.” Your face didn't shift at all, but he knew to elaborate anyways. “Jon. He was the first that meant anything to me...but I killed someone before. The woman who killed my father.”

His eyes were filled already with tears wanting to fall and no doubt the crack in his voice as he continued, threatened to extend to such watering. “None of us knew they were even there until she killed him. Fell to the ground right beside me, he was already dead before I even knew what had happened to him..and then I looked over and saw her..there was nothing. Nothing in her eyes, she shot him in the neck and didn't even care one bit about it. Just moved on to everyone else..”

Stepping forward, Olly knelt down to the frozen pile as you stepped with him, kneeling as well to stay right by his side with a dutifully quiet listening. “The last thing my mother ever said to me, she just looked at me yelled for me to hide, kept telling me to hide and the second I ran..I didn't see them do it but I heard her scream..”

His hand reached out to something, running over the snow before dropping down now as the tears let themselves fall loose along his cheek. “They attacked us at Castle Black and I shot arrows into her back. I was scared the whole fight..but then I saw her, holding an arrow up and she was going to kill Jon..but then he saw me, and he trusted me to do it. He trusted me to save his life that night, and that was how I repayed her. I wanted her to know what it felt like, the way my father died not seeing it coming..but it didn't hurt. It didn't feel bad not the way it felt when..” His cracked voice fading away, you both knew the words going unsaid.

You looked over to him, eyes flickering away narrowed in thought before looking back. You knew Olly could see you were looking at him, but you didn't beckon him to face you. “I didn't know anything about the first man I killed.” His brows narrowed but he wiped at his tears with the back of his hand but more came anyways in small, silent drops. “Didn't know his name, who he was, barley what he looked like.” Finally his head turned to yours, and there was a long passed distance in your eyes fading out. “I shoved a dagger into his neck and after he fell to the ground, I never thought about him again.” Asking why, you inhaled before looking back to the sight in front of you both.

It had been a long time since you thought about what happened that day. It felt like nothing compared to the ones which followed suit. “They attacked us first. Lord Stark, his men, we were all attacked in the streets of the capitol and the only people we killed attacked us first. They killed three of his own guard that day, men I knew for years. They attacked us, and after I killed one of them another shoved a spear through Lord Stark's leg and everything after that only ever got worse. I didn't think about the fact that I had killed someone until after we had won our first battle. I never thought about that man again after everything else I did. Until right now.”

The winds around you two blew quietly, brushing your exposed faces with dustings of snow picked up from the ground and flying through the air to a new destination. “You were defending yourself.”

“And you were defending Jon, and avenging your family.” Olly exhaled shakily, before nodding a bit. “We all do bad things, but those bad thing's aren't all equal in nature. You don't feel bad for killing her because you were righting the horrible wrong she did to you. But you feel bad for what you did to Jon, because you always knew that was wrong.” He didn't move away as you slowly let your hand sit comfortingly in the middle of his upper back, “We can't pick and choose what we feel guilty for, but the ones that we do is what defines us. You aren't a bad person because you don't feel guilty for killing her, and you aren't one for being forced to kill someone because Ser Alliser made you. People have done far worse in this world then you'll achieve in your lifetime.”

The winds sat between you once more until his voice was but a whisper, “You said that I didn't need to forgive them for what they did..but I would have to learn to live with them..” You nodded, waiting for the detached thoughts to assemble together in his mind. “I don't know if I'm ready for that..but if I stay at Castle Black I'll never know.”

“We can only try. I'm not asking you to make promises, only that you do your best and tell me when it's getting difficult.” Moving your arm across his shoulders, you pulled him more into your side, running that hand up and down what you could reach of his upper arm. “That and perhaps not to get too friendly with knives when alone with the King.”

Olly choked out a laugh as he leaned into you with an exhaustion. You both sat for a good while, as the boy found no energy in him to move anymore. “The snow is too heavy to bury them.”

Nodding, your voice was soft, “So we burn them. Do your mother and father one last thing, and not leave them here like this. We won't leave them to come back when the storm does.” Olly didn't move to get up, but he nodded his head. You wouldn't get up until he was ready. It was his parents he was looking for, and until he was ready to look away once he found them the two of you would sit there.

“Why do you want me around? After what I did..”

A smile easily sat gentle on your face, pulling him a bit closer. “I could ask you the same question.”

Olly's answer though, smacked right into your heart almost making you want to feel those tears sting behind your eyes. “My mother would have liked you.” You didn't need him to elaborate, you understood that with a tightening in your heart right away. Your eyes now watering without letting them drop.

Whispering in a strained silence only for him, “And she wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life punishing yourself for a mistake. So I won't either.” Prompting him to stand as soon as he found the strength to sit back up properly, “Now we give them a proper funeral, and tomorrow you start fresh.”

No one helped you both, but you had given Theon a shake of your head when he moved to ask and he told the rest to leave you both be. He had told you that boy admires you, but Theon watched and came to the same conclusion you previously did. That maybe, you were just the closest thing to a mother Olly had left. Theon also didn't say it, but he certainly noticed how easily acting as one, fell upon your shoulders.

Certain things were undeniable sore spots for many of you now, and breaching such topics tended to mostly be spat between the two of you in jokes. It was easier to cope with what had happened to both of you if you joked about it, but certain ones he still didn't know how to bring up. It didn't pass your notice or Theon's that neither of you came anywhere near any kind of joke or insult coming close to a topic remotely sexual.

You two never had any actual attraction or interest. It was always from jokes in origin. You were pretty and innocent but short tempered and rigid. Theon was older, had a mighty appetite for women and knew you heard every time he snuck girls and whores into his chambers. He'd make a pass at you, you'd refute it with a clever comment and thus back and forth it became a game of wits to who could out sass the other.

Sex was just something you both were opposite about, and it made joking about it between you both far easier then Theon would ever get along with other girls. You never wanted him, he never wanted you and so flirting with you was safe, beacuse you both knew it meant not a thing. Jon had once joked, asking you if you shared that small corridor with Theon, how did you still know so little about sex. All three of them, Jon, Theon, and Robb all laughed at how flustered and offended you got. Saying you didn't actually listen you just heard it incidentally.

But, not once did anything close to subjects like that come up anymore. Not in jokes. Not towards you, and not about Theon's activities. Or lack thereof, now. You and Maester Wolkan were the only ones left who knew about it. Wolkan needed to know, he was the Maester of Winterfell now under Jon and when discussing his health, it had to be known. But you, not once did you ever bring it up. And he was grateful for it.

You weren't there for what happened to him, and he was glad of it. It was an indescribable memory that he some days couldn't piece together. He had meekly begged Ramsay to kill him after, and for a long time he still wished he would. But it got, not easier, but he had learned to cope with it as it would never change. Then Ramsay showed him you in the dungeons.

Theon knew why he was to be the one to serve you in Winterfell. Ramsay wanted him to get used to being around you, so that it would be a horrible shock the day he was dragged into what was being used as your chambers. And the sickening image he recalled, the extent of how violent it had gotten. Images that haunted Theon to the present. It was first night Ramsay made you and Theon watch each others eyes as he did what he did to you. And he only dragged Theon to watch the more Ramsay's appetite for cruelty towards you grew.

He purposely didn't tell Jon about a lot of the things done to you. Really, he had told Jon the truth of what happened to you, but he didn't tell him anywhere near the worst of it. He didn't know how to say it, and Theon knew that you still hadn't told Jon the worst of it, either.

If Theon were to be honest, it was clear that had Jon known the true extent of vile things Ramsay had done to you, he would've beaten him to death in the courtyard that very day they reclaimed Winterfell.

They weren't sights he liked looking back on, he knew it was to torture you as much as it was to torment Theon but it certainly stuck in his mind in the worst way possible. Ramsay had once mocked him about when men lose an arm or a leg and getting a phantom itch where it used to be. Asking if he would feel it now when seeing a naked girl, and he decided it seemed to test such a question out on you.

But he didn't feel that, he didn't look at you in that manner before, and now still he didn't see anything any mind could attain something good from, only horror. It wasn't until Winterfell too, did Theon for the first time find a reason to be thankful for being cut as such. Ramsay's voice so clear in his mind as he was forced to watch one night. You had been in a mood, and thrown a small mirror at Ramsay that smashed into pieces. So the Bolton stripped you down bare and let the broken shards cut into you as he did what he did, grinning at Theon the whole time.

“Maybe once upon a time, I would have made you do this part Reek, have you bond with my bride.”

He wouldn't be able to even look Jon in the eye had it come to that. He didn't know if he could even live with himself if he was to do something like that. He was Ironborn, rape and raid and all as such but that wasn't who Theon was in his blood, and that wasn't the man Eddard Stark raised him to be. So in that very home he once foolishly thought was the true prison, had to stand and watch it happen to you and be selfishly thankful that he was so mutilated that he wouldn't be able to be forced to help.

It was easy for you to joke about things before. What he did before Ramsay, it was so long passed that the transgressions were all but gone in your eyes. To you, if you both joked about it, people wouldn't look at him as if they should still hate him. He still wasn't sure how to thank you for that, nor if you would even want that. Very likely you would tell him to be quiet and go do something else if he tried to thank you.

You two used to hate each other too. Terribly hate one another. Your first week in Winterfell after Theon had been there, and as soon as he realized you were the daughter of Stannis Baratheon did he ever ramp up how rude he was. Didn't matter to him that you were younger and short and a girl, you were the daughter of the man who destroyed his uncle's fleet, and you had a smart ass mouth that he wanted to punch.

He could still see back one day he, Robb, and Jon were attending to something in the stables when you had thrown the door open and threw something at him hard. Jon had to grab him to stop him from instinctively going to hit you back, as you had yelled at Theon for something he now couldn't even recall. He yelled back and soon everyone came to see what was wrong, you got flustered at the attention, shoving passed everyone to leave when the amount of eyes grew. Robb left to go calm you down and shoved Theon into the wall in frustration as he passed.

Lord Stark had later, made you both sit down in his study side by side to force you both to grow up. He had told you that you could not come in and let your temper out on people and if you needed to have an outlet, “Pick up a practice sword in the training yard, and don't return until you're sure you aren't going to try to stab Theon with it.”

On his own, Lord Stark had told him to ease up on you. Robb and Jon had known you for six years at that point and were very close, they knew you well enough to tease. But also that while all three of them were verging on men, you had only recently had your fourteenth name day, that you were still little more then a child. Theon had grumbled, “Doesn't talk to me like one...”

But the man had only chuckled, he too had known you for those same six years and had watched you slowly grow out of your shell tremendously from that very first month. “I'm not asking you to be friends with her, I'm telling you that you both will need to find a way to tolerate the other's existence. You both will be working closely together from now on, and I'd rather not assign a guard to watch you both every moment of the day.”

He had gone back out to the yard, where you and Robb had started to spar. Trying to get your worked up energy out on something useful, and there you were laughing and smiling the more you and the eldest Stark would go. He would compliment how much better you had gotten, and he saw nothing of the bitter, dry and sarcastic little bitch he had initially thought you of.

Now however, watching you with the guard from afar, your eyes soft as your expression was the same harsh and still as ever, but you had your arm comfortingly around Olly, who was leaning into you with shaking shoulders Theon knew were tears. And not for a second did you try to make him feel better or even tell him it would be okay. You were exactly what the boy needed you to be in that moment. This was the village that was ruined in seconds and you stood with him in the cold snow as long as it took for the fire to take what was left of the frozen bodies of his parents and home.

Olly didn't talk to much of anyone as you all made your way to Winterfell. No one asked why an orphan boy from the Night's Watch was leaving there with you, and if the space given to you both as you came into the courtyard said anything, they were smart enough to not speculate either. It wasn't anything they would guess, you were certain of that. No one guessed it, and some days neither you nor the boy himself could believe what led him here.

But there was one thing to do, once you got him settled, notably getting him used to his quarters and around the castle as if a mother would, but if he was to be here, there was one person he needed to talk to. And he had avoided that conversation since the day he ascended the steps from the Ice Cells.

It was the Lord Commander he helped murder, but now it was the King in the North he was to answer too. But as you made your way to give them privacy, Olly had hesitated to speak up asking you to stay before realizing it was not his place. Jon however, caught it well and nodded for you to stay with not a shred of ire or blame in his eyes.

You'd seen the raging red and intense violence that could brew in Jon Snow's eyes but not for a second was such emotions and aggression directed at a child. That wasn't who he was, he in his blood without having to even try, was the man always on the front to protect the innocent.

Including the innocence of a child manipulated into doing something monstrous.

Samwell Tarly could recall a day when one of his brothers had asked him if he had ever dreamt of being back home since arriving at Castle Black, and his answer was blunt as he could have made it. “No, I hated it there.” And it wasn't anywhere near a lie, but it was so much more complicated then that.

No matter what good remained in his memories of home, it was still a place that he resented. He resented the torment, he resented being forced to leave, and he resented that he had to leave a second time all because once more his father refused to see anything worthwhile in him.

He had introduced himself that first day in Castle Black, as if it meant anything to those already looking at him with judging amusement in their eyes. Told to let them know what his name was, and he gave the proper greeting he was raised to introduce himself as only the shaking nerves made it sound pathetic as he spat it out, and rambled further.

“Samwell Tarly, of Horn Hill. I mean, I was of Horn Hill..I've come to take the black..”

Only to have the first thing he heard from any of their mouths, was the spitting Rast laughing to himself, “Come to take the black pudding,” Truly in those first few days Sam was sure his life had gone from one kind of bad to a new without anything to look forward too. Ser Alliser mocked him, encouraged others to mock him, and looked forward to making his recruits knock him into the dirt.

One had stood up in his defence, angry and shoving him away from them all once he grabbed him off the ground. Fighting against the rest of them when Ser Alliser demanded it, and turned around scolding him that it wasn't about to get easier. It was the first time someone had truly come to Sams defence without any expectation in return, and it was a bit off putting to Sam how rough and stern he was about it though. He was so sure, when he was assigned as the mans watch partner up on the Wall, that he hated him, and would rather have nothing to do with him.

Part of it was not being comfortable around such heights, but when he was told to come stand by the fire, Sam didn't want to. He was freezing, but standing by the fire meant having to come closer and annoy the one person who had done something nice for him, so he lied.

Only, it was never that easy trying to lie to someone like Jon Snow.

He said he was fine, and Jon without missing a beat turned to him, “You're not. You're freezing.” After that night, it got easier. A lot easier. He found people and purpose and confidence and a true bravery, he had begun to feel pride in who he had become at the Night's Watch.

But then Jon was Lord Commander, and had returned from Hardhome seeing horrors beyond anything Sam imagined once possible as a boy. Much happened at once, Jon with the intention of opening the gates to let the free folk through, but before that, had told Sam he was sending him to the Citadel.

Maester Aemon was very sick by then, and very old and Jon seemed to decide to utilize Sam's love for learning for the better. Despite the fact that Sam knew too well, Jon had next to no one left. Sure he had Ghost, he had Edd, and the large one Tormund seemed fond of him, but Jon had no family left, no home, most of his friends were dead, and half a year later, Jon still hadn't said more then a few words about you.

He wanted to stay, to not be another person forced to leave Jons life, but it wasn't Sams choice. It was Jons. And he sent him, Gilly and Little Sam to Eastwatch by the Sea anyways. After getting on a ship, it was a port stop in Bravvos with more adventures there then he ever wanted, and finally before settling into Oldtown, Sam knew he had one more stop.

He had to go back to Horn Hill.

Sam had hoped that perhaps the many years since he had left, may have softened his father's ire towards him. His mother Melessa at least, had taken one look at Sam and smiled so brightly he could have cried, a laugh at how good he looked, and how healthy he looked.

Then when introducing Little Sam, an easier explanation to hide where Gilly had come from they told his family he was his bastard son. It was less complicated if they thought he was his blood, even though at that point in Sam's life, he knew what people would think about a man of the Nights Watch with a newborn. But Melessa had adored Little Sam, not once cared for any of the implications one way or another, merely excited to have a grandchild and meet the girl who wooed her son.

Talla was so much older now, while adulthood hadn't changed much in Sam it had made his sister go from a girl to almost a woman, one of the first things from her mouth, “Father says I have to marry Symun Fossoway. He has yellow teeth-” Considering the life he and Gilly had just come from, it was almost sweet she complained it to Sam as if it were the worst to happen to her.

His father and brother were on a hunt, and for only a moment as his mother told him, it made Sam swallow in nerves. He doubted his father had ever told his wife what his plans for Sam were.

“You're almost a man now, but you are not worthy of my land and title. Tomorrow, you're going to take the black. Forsake all claim to your inheritance and start north. If you do not, then we'll have a hunt. And somewhere in these woods your horse will stumble, and you'll be thrown from your saddle to die...or so I'll tell your mother. Nothing would please me more.”

But he was doing this not for himself, he needed this to work. He needed his father to accept Gilly, accept Little Sam so they could have a life. Little Sam would have a better education then Gilly knew she could give him, still on her own reading journey she wasn't anywhere near a teaching level.

He needed his father to look past Sam's own shortcomings just this once. Let them stay, and Gilly wouldn't have to work in a brothel cleaning after women who all called her a “wildling bitch”. She wouldn't be working in Castle Black where at any time they could corner her alone, the worst of his brothers would attack her for being nothing but a woman. They would be safe.

Talla and Melessa had brought them both inside, the former sharing ideas of what guest room Gilly could have as if she had any concept of the luxury being offered. His mother warming his heart, telling him quietly that she couldn't be happier seeing her son with something so proud to look at. But then his father and brother came home.

Dickon wasn't as openly gleeful like his mother and sister, but Sam also knew that the two brothers were indeed happy about to see one another. Dickon had accepted the explanation, and begun going over things on his mind as if no time between all these years had passed. He was tall, strong, capable, and skilled just like his father but he had, like Sam, inherited their mother's kindness.

Sam also wondered, how much of why Sam left, did his father not tell his brother either?

Who knew but his father he had threatened to murder him for simply growing to be who he was? And sure, Sam all those years ago knew he wasn't proud of himself. He was a coward, he was shy, he had no idea what his purpose was, but now? Sure, he thought he was still some of those things to a degree, but now he at least knew when it came down to it, he would push forward for the people he loved. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't anywhere near enough, not for his father.

Sam preferred to read over learning to hunt, and his father hated that about him. Hated that his nose was always on a book rather then learning from whatever nightmare his father was putting him through that day. But it was the way one man at Castle Black had said those words to him, discussing how Sam wasn't a fighter like his father.

It was Stannis Baratheon who told him with a pride in his eyes and voice, as he realized Sams goal was to search the old manuscripts for answers of the threat far North.

“We have to know how to fight them. Keep reading, Samwell Tarly.”

The King who answered their call for aid, the King who still cared, had seen Sam's worth in his love of books and learning. Had not looked at him judgmentally for it, and instead seen him for something Sam could provide which others couldn't.

Yet, that night as he sat at the table with his father, mother, Talla, and Dickon, and at his own side Gilly and Little Sam, his father looked no more happy with him then the day he left. Dickon would ask what beyond the wall was like, and when Sam was honest that all of the food he had from the wild was hunted by Jon, his father found it pathetic. As if Jon being the fitter, stronger one who knew how to hunt was shameful against Sam who simply had no talent for it.

Gilly knew how to hunt, but she didn't shame him for it. Jon had hunted all of the animals the two of them ate beyond the wall and he didn't judge Sam for letting him do that work.

When Gilly had mentioned she knew how to hunt, especially rabbits, Melessa had not been phased, only knowing enough to say Gilly was from the North. “I imagine it’s common where you’re from. We once met a man, Lord Umber from Last Hearth, wasn’t it, Randyll, who said he taught all his daughters how to hunt.” Talla had been impressed on her own, looking at Gilly, “Your father taught you to hunt? Our father would never teach us. I think our father could learn a thing or two from your father.”

Agitated with the conversation, when Sam had politely went to accept bread from one of the servers, his father had dismissively scolded him, “Not fat enough already?” And it all had begun to spiral from there. “I thought the Night’s Watch might make a man of you. Something resembling a man at least. You managed to stay soft and fat. Your nose buried in books. Spending your life reading about the achievements of better men. I’ll wager you still can’t sit on a horse or wield a sword.”

Sam wanted to tell him he could ride a horse, he killed a Thenn, he killed one of the Others with nothing but a dagger made from dragonglass to protect Gilly and Little Sam. But he wasn't here to convince his father of that, and Sam could tell that Gilly wanted to bring it up in his defence, and had spoken of it before he could come up with a way to change the subject. Once the image of Gilly being North of the wall was out there, there was no hiding who she was.

Sam wasn't ashamed of it, nor did he care how people looked at him for it. But he certainly did not like how instantly, instead of making any notion of Sam breaking his vows, he had taken his ire out on him through Gilly. Randyll Tarly pointing to a shining, sharp blade. Sat on a wall mount made out of antlers, the hilt of it shaped as that of a bow and arrow with such images carved deeply into the wood surrounding it, whereas the rest of it looked little to stand out. “It’s called Heartsbane. It’s been in our family for five hundred years. It’s Valyrian steel. Only a handful of them left in the world. It’s supposed to go to my firstborn son after I die. To him.” Gesturing to Sam in the dead silence of the room, “But he will never wield that sword. If he were to become Lord Tarly of Horn Hill, it would be the end of this house. I took you for a Mole’s Town whore when I saw you and I made my peace with that. Who else would have him? But I overestimated him. No. It was a wildling whore that seduced my son.”

Turning back to his son, he was standing tall but no one else moved an inch, and everyone but him, was greatly uncomfortable as he grew more spiteful. “This you getting back at me, boy? Bring that to my table and making me dine with it. And you got what you were after, didn’t you? A bastard. A half-breed bastard.”

Melessa had stood, disgusted by his blatant hatred, guiding Gilly and Little Sam away with Talla following. Slowly leaving last was Dickon who stayed silent, wishing he had the bravery to stand up for his brother's side instead of saying nothing.

Sam was angry, however. Gilly being a wildling didn't make her any less of a person. And there certainly wasn't anything wrong with being a bastard. Jon was a bastard of the North, and was the most admirable man Sam's ever known, a far better man then the father before him.

Randyll had approached his son, now standing with a held back anger of his own looking up at the man. “Your mother’s a fine woman. You’re not worthy of her. To please her, I’ll take the wildling in. She can work in the kitchens. The bastard will be raised here. But this will be the last night you ever spend at Horn Hill.”

It was a risk, but he had left, and taken them with him. Gilly and Little Sam were his family, and they all belonged together, so they took what little they had and left in the middle of the night. Perhaps it had been childish or maybe it was the first brave act of rebellion against his father he found the courage to do, but he had taken Heartsbane with him, saying it was his families sword after all, not his fathers.

When Gilly had asked if his father would come for it, Sam said with the only pride he had.

“He can bloody well try.”

As you sat there in Maester Wolkan's study, you supposed you were lucky that no one saw what led up to it. Wrapping the underside of your forearm as you tried not to shake from the blood loss that took place as you made your way to see him in the first place. He no doubt had heard the whispers of you losing your mind by that point, but took no question that you simply said your hand had slipped. It became a problem however, when Jon had come into the room with tense eyes as he stared at you as if hiding a horrible secret.

“What happened?” His voice was tight and controlled likely a bit too much to not come off as trying to hide such intentions. Stepping closer to where Wolkan had you perched on a stool so your arm could lay flat as he previously had been stitching the worst of it.

He answered for you when you had paused with wide eyes, “Her hand slipped with a blade, she came to me before it could get out of hand.”

Jon watched how hesitant you were to speak and you both knew that he had realized why. Taking the moment he kept a more controlled volume, despite the twisting of angry worry in his face as he spoke to you instead. “Out of hand? The amount of blood I just saw-”

Wolkan kept his cool and you thanked him with a silent glance. “The wound is deep but it didn't cut a vein. It will heal easily and she got to me at the perfect time to clean and close the wound. Little things to be thankful for, sometimes.”

Inhaling deeply, Jon watched silently as your eyes nervously flickered between him and Wolkan, the later wrapping the rest of your forearm now that the worst of the bleeding had stopped. “You should come see me in the morning.” Putting away some of his tools as you pulled your arm gently into your lap. “I will want to check for any sign of infection, and regardless I will rewrap your dressings and clean it out.”

Nodding at him, you felt a strain in your chest as you raised an eyebrow at him, a silent unrelated question Jon could not see, but Wolkan only hummed quiet in an answer that spoke what none could gather but you two. Moving to politely held you stand from your perched position, but Jon had already stepped to your side, an arm wrapping around your waist to all but do the hard work for you, lifting you up and to the ground as he spoke. “I appreciate you helping her, Maester Wolkan. Thank you.”

“Always what I am here for, your grace.” It was a stroke of luck you felt that being sworn by oath to a family of monsters did not mean it made the maester for them the same. Getting to Winterfell at the captive of the Boltons and realizing they brought Wolkan with them, you knew it meant for whatever reason Luwin was gone and you dared not think what led to it or why.

There was getting used to Wolkan, but he did his best under the leadership he was put under and at the least was a little bit easier going in the time he had seen you in those months of a hell. The man was quiet but kind and very smart. On the relieving side, serving Jon seemed to bring him far more peace then years under the Boltons ever did.

You hoped that for just right now, it meant he could keep another secret just until you could ensure that secret's safety. A raven had come in for you, and after reading it's contents as you had finally settled back into Winterfell, you told him to keep the information to himself. With what you now knew, this one needed to be protected and that included ensuring it was somewhere not out of your reach and protection before revealing it safely.

Jon leading you through the quiet of the halls, you had glanced up to him from the side noting he had not moved his arm from your waist. “Do I even need to ask how it was you knew where to find me?”

Instead of what you expected, a deep chuckle vibrated through Jon's chest instead, pulling you a bit closer to his side playfully. “Next time don't choose a steward who used to be mine, and maybe he wouldn't tell me right away.” Only half a smile on your face, you almost could shake your head at the thought. You had told him to clean the blood up and not go get someone as it wasn't a big deal, but Olly had clearly not listened as soon as Jon came into the room with questions at the sight.

You didn't know what the two of them talked about, but they had been in the study for a while before coming to a conclusion, and that it was likely a little easier for Olly to serve Jon through you rather then jump back into his service as if it was just like before. A new trend in Jon's life it seemed. Getting used to someone who backstabbed him or his family though their forgiveness in you.

Continuing beside you, “He was worried about you, don't blame him.” Ensuring you didn't, Jon nodded before glancing around. Turning you with both hands at your upper arms, did he direct you to stop and face him, keeping his hold there as his grey eyes were bright but worried looking down at you. Your own hands, one wrapping around a wrist of his and the other toying along his waist distractedly. “He also said when he came into the room it had sounded like you had been screaming.”

You bit your lip but Jon didn't even blink, just a building concern swimming in his gaze that had you weak to it. Shrugging a little bit, you tried desperately to play it off. “It was nothing, he probably-” Jon more sternly murmured your name as his head tilted a bit with a sharper look as if warning you to not lie to his face about this. Quiet as you looked into his eyes before dropping them as your face fell a bit, “Last time I don't even recall getting out of bed, but I was wide awake and..I didn't even realize I had even dropped the blade across my arm until Olly came in the room..”

Olly wasn't sure to believe you when you said it wasn't a big deal, but you knew you couldn't get Jon to believe that in any capacity. Not now. His own expression falling almost a bit more upset, one of his hands came up to run along the hair at the side of your face before cupping your cheek. “Was it the same as last time?” Shaking your head no, Jon glanced down the corridor but still none were around at least. “What was it?”

There was only two you recognized this time, but it was two you had seen before in the last. One woman, a bit older then you, hair almost a silver white and a cold, yet smug look as she had cared not for the pleading. The one with her though, was the Westeros knight you had seen before but his face escaped you from knowing the name attached to it.

But the mind you found yourself in? The things which happened, and the lack of any emotion on her face but perhaps that of some enjoyment, it shocked you. Even coming out of it, it shocked you. The mind you looked through was not someone good, but there was a conflicted mess of emotions swirling in their mind.

The way he ended though, the way she let it happen? It didn't matter what occurred, there was not a thing even a man like that could've done which would have made him deserve that. Perhaps you felt so shaken, as you felt the screaming agonizing heat as he did in the seconds before your mind returned to you, blood across your arm as Olly called your name in a panic.

But trying to relay that properly to Jon? It was hard to explain. It was hard to word how terrifying it felt, the way she looked at him as he was pleading desperately for any mercy.

“Dany, please-”

Jon stared at you in a distant unnerved manner, this was the second time the same woman was at the centre of both. Looking up at him, you could feel your throat burning from the desperation and your heart racing as it recalled the fear of how uncaring she looked at him through your eyes. Murmuring your name fading into a tense quiet, Jon moved his other hand from your upper arm to wrap around your back and pull you into him.

He hadn't mentioned it, but he had seen the way you almost disappeared in the hall during the reception. The way you looked sick and terrified for only moments when he gently coaxed you back to earth before you were kept too deep into whatever it was you saw or heard. He knew trauma, and that was far more then just a memory. He didn't say it, but the way he held you close told enough, that whatever was pulling your mind here and there was beginning to scare him.

The worry that if he left you on your own too long again, what could this escalate too before you hurt yourself even more? How was he supposed to protect you from something he couldn't even slightly control? Jon knew his entire life at that point was strange, unexplained things happening to him, but they weren't supposed to happen to you. They weren't supposed to leave you looking this shaken and panicked at what you were seeing.

Muffled against him, you tried to reassure him, “We've been through a lot in a short amount of time, maybe it's only stress.” Jon shortly muttering back a question of is it, before you paused. Holding him around the back of his neck more, “No one has ever died and come back, this could be normal.”

“I saw visions of you before and they were nothing like this.” Inhaling deeply once more you could hear his voice was deep and tight trying to keep himself collected against you. “Something is doing this to you, but I don't know how to help.”

Pulling back, you found the need in your heart straining to quell the tone break in his voice. Cupping both sides of his cheeks, you hated the concern so blatantly across his eyes. “You can't protect me from everything, Jon.”

Shaking his head once, he grabbed one of your hands to twist. Pressing a kiss to your palm, “That won't stop me from trying.”

But for just a moment, the way in which his large hand gripped part of your hand and wrist did you not stand there anymore. Looking up brightly at not the man your present mind knew was in front of you, you were sitting. In a room glowing with gentle firelight as innocuous music played around you that set nothing in your mind off.

You had your hand rushing towards him in a much more playful manner when he snatched you just like this, holding it in the air just like this but a smirk across his lips and bright blue eyes tinged with a complete mischief as he pulled you a bit closer.

“Striking your King is an act of treason.”

But as soon as you could see Robb, you were back here. In the halls of Winterfell as Jon murmured your name with that same panic returning to his eyes. Instead you pulled your hands down to rest over where the carve in his heart was. You looked much more reassured then Jon did, despite the floating in your chest warning you that this was starting to happen at an alarming frequency.

Changing subjects swiftly was the safest route, which worked easily to bring him down to something simmering in his shoulders. “Come, we have a bit to do before we meet with everyone. At least have our affairs prepared before we get yelled at for it.”

Jon relaxed, chuckling again as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “This is my order, I'll be the one getting yelled at if anything.” As you both made your way down the corridor once more, you shook your head with a sigh. “I'd rather they be angry with me then you.”

“I think that ship has long since sailed, Snow.”

A smirk so much easier danced across Jon's lips as he tried his best to walk forward and not just shove you into the nearest wall. “You know that one doesn't work quite as well when it's your name too now, Snow.” His tone dropping with a playful prominence on the name as well as he glanced at you trying to hide your own smirk.

“What are you going to do, your grace?” Pushing it a little as you didn't even glance at him letting the words pass you by with a quick dryness. “Going to punish me for using our name against you?”

And with that you had snapped the restraint he held. One hand on your hip now as he shoved you into the wall roughly, his other trapping you in as his palm rested on the stone wall beside your head, leaning close enough so your world vision was hidden with his curls. Grey eyes dark, looking down you with not a shred of shame for it before following it back up. Not even with a smirk, almost just a raw, dark, frowning lust that he couldn't contain. Like he did these things without any thought behind it.

The hand on your hip tightening, “I should punish you for taking my name in the first place.” Stepping closer he could almost press his hips into yours should he take a step more, as you felt the hand on your hip fisting the skirt of your dress as it raised slightly. His breath stuck hot against your skin, taking another step, feeling a teasing press of his hardening cock that almost made your mind beg and plead to just open your legs for him now, regardless of how anyone could see. The hand beside your head drifting down to your hair and raking his way through to the back of your neck, he tilted your head up to meet his eyes gently.

Your voice but a high pitched whisper as the blood in your veins sparked you like a spreading fire. “Too bad my King has a meeting with his high lords to prepare for. Not nearly enough time for that.”

You didn't mean it as a challenge, but you should have known better. You were in the hall where any could pass by, but as Jon pressed you up against the wall anyways it didn't matter. His hands grabbing your wrists and yanking them up above your head, switching to hold you there with one larger hand as the other yanked your dress up for him, his lips attacking yours rough and deeply.

As soon as he felt your bare skin under his touch, his mouth moved to your jaw and neck with sloppy kisses but rough bites as he rasped in you ear. “My men also expect their King to fuck an heir into his beautiful wife. I'm doing my duty.”

Shivering in his touch your fingers flexed wanting to reach out to him, voice barley there as his mouth continued to bite into your neck, his fingers of his other hand drifting under the soft fabric hiding you from his touch. “Is that all this is?” Holding back a high gasp as his fingers drifted down to run lightly along your wetness, “Not a very appropriate way of doing such a duty, my King. Where anyone could find us.”

Pulling back, his eyes darkening to a black as he stared you down, finding your clit with the wetness on his fingers as you jumped. The hold on your wrists tightened as you did so. Jon rubbing tight, rough circles into it and breaking your resolve as you melted into his touch. “Maybe they should find us.” Your lungs tightened as you opened your mouth to cry out as the pleasure burned into the roughness of your clit as he was relentless of the pace. Mouth trailing up to your ear as he roughly snapped his teeth into it as he hissed, “Make sure I'm doing right by my new wife and watch me take you apart. I'd have showed off how good you are for me on our wedding night, if it didn't also mean any of them had to touch you as well.”

Letting the touch on your clit slide down, Jon sunk those same two fingers deep to the knuckle inside of you with no hesitation, the heel of his palm roughly rubbing into the sore nub sparking you to cry out loudly. Jon capturing you lips with his to muffle whatever echo was left in you.

Running firmly along the sensitive wall inside of you, you arched into his touch as much as you could. Letting his lips steal your whine of his name into his mouth, and returning such a gift by sliding his tongue into yours.

Thankful the thin material was still there, collecting the otherwise unseemly evidence of how wet Jon's fingers were being soaked as your hips tried desperately to grind into his touch. The hand keeping your wrists above your head slipping down finally, grasping the side of your face near your jaw as he kept your mouth firmly against his.

Licking along your tongue with greed as he increased how deep and fast he fucked his fingers into your soaked core. Your hands raking through his curls in an instant as Jon pressed his hips firmly into yours before moving to grasp over your dress at your breasts, groping tightly before finding the collar of your dress and slipping under the fabric.

His fingers inside of you moving fast and soaked as you felt the coil twisting and begs for mercy unheard in Jon's kiss but how roughly he grasped, twisted and almost tugged on your nipple under you dress had you gasping desperately. Jon's incessant touch pulling you right over that line and your orgasm flooded between your legs as he still kept himself tasting inside of your mouth. As soon as you arched up and seized, the feeling washing across your veins and limbs with a cry as it snapped inside of you, your own hands reached down.

Hands almost shaking and fumbling as you tried to work past his layers as you still clenched around his fingers with a bit of a jump at the aftershocks still hitting your core from your orgasm. Pulling from your mouth Jon looked down to your hands before leaning to nudge your nose with his, taking over for you with much more ease even with one hand. Only undoing enough that he could reach into his breeches and pull his cock out.

Jon pulling from your wetness and two fingers soaked, he reached up so they sat obscenely at your lips before pushing them just as deep to the knuckle despite your whine, moving to sloppily kiss back along to your ear as his other hand yanked your dress up enough to manoeuvre under it. Almost looking back at you for a moment as he let you suck, before he pulled them from you and once more kissed you. Your tongues sliding along the other as he much more freely groaned at the heavy taste on his own tongue.

But just as you grasped at his shoulders in need, Jon yanked up one of your legs to rest at his hip, pushing you more into the wall just as he slid his cock deep inside you. Your cries in his mouth almost painful as the thick stretch burned but you arched into his touch. His hand on your thigh as the material slid down your leg and almost exposed what Jon was doing, holding it up tight at his hip as he fucked up roughly inside of you with a grunt.

This wasn't a fuck made to last, his pace was fast and he was rough and pounding where you could hear how soaked you made is cock in an instant. His free hand cupping your jaw as he pulled back to look at you, teeth almost gritting as his eyes black watched you try desperately to hold back any sound.

His cock burned you, made you want to scream and run from the pain of how long and thick he slid inside you, but the pleasure taken from you left you unwilling to fight back and raking through his curls tightly. As if all you knew to do was take it. Jon's eyes were dark as he looked down at you, each pound of his cock jostling you as he wished he could strip you bare then and there to watch better.

On the contrary though, his deep tones washed over with something so bright and soft as he looked at you, “I love you so much..” The degree to which you clenched around him had Jon bury his head in your neck to hide his own groans. Your hands gentle now through his curls as his cock rutted deeply into you.

Nodding into him, your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders and up into his hair, your voice weak as your lungs held no air trying to keep any cries from your words and little able to come out as a result, “I- fuck, I'm yours..”

Another groan as he picked up the pace and slammed his cock inside of your soaked cunt at a rough and fast pace before biting deeply into your neck. Nodding into his biting, Jon yanked the leg at his hip up high and shoved you more against the wall at a better angle to fuck up inside you, but completely exposing how deeply he was fucking you should anyone walk by the side where your dress was slipped down.

You shook at how it almost felt as if Jon wanted someone to come by and see what he was doing to you. Yet unbeknownst to why, Jon desperately did. He never had this inclination before, but his new life with you, buried inside you, Jon was consumed with a few dark desires. One of them almost challenging his men to watch what they could never give you.

He hated how depraved of thoughts they could become. Jon pounded into you harder at the images in his mind taking over. What it would be like, having you pressed against the wall just like this, but making you face away, your back pressed against his chest and instead Jon would pull his head from your neck, rest his forehead against the back of your hair and watch his cock sink deeply into your ass, and how much the plush skin of your cheeks would bounce at the force.

Jon didn't think he knew how to ask you for that. You weren't some whore that men paid for, you were the woman he loved more then anything, his wife. But he couldn't stop himself as he fucked you fast against the wall. How filthy would it feel to spill deep inside your ass, or how much he wanted to lay you out, and shove his cock to fuck between your breasts after marking them up all for him with his lips and teeth.

He had no idea why he was consumed with thoughts like this, but the way you grasped at him, clenched around him and let him fuck you as if you were designed for his lips and cock alone, was doing something to his desires he never knew about before.

You hid in his shoulder, weakly crying his name as you suddenly came around him. The coil snapping after twisting so burning tight as you were pulled up to meet his lips. Jon biting and kissing you deeply as you came around him, before you felt his cum. Thick and hot as he spilled deeply inside of you, grinding deep until you clenched around him in too much shocking stimulation.

He shushed you with gentle kisses as you whined as he pulled out. Putting your leg back down gently, and cupping both of your cheeks tenderly with a kiss as he put both of your clothes back where they belonged. It was quiet between you both for a moment, gently tracing your noses along the other as you smoothed out the curls you had raked though until you felt your heart slow and world return to your vision outside of Jon.

Leaning up to give a tiny kiss, you looked back. His grey eyes bright with a smile charming off his face as you almost grinned back with a beam. “Now we are certainly going to be late.”

You honestly could have rolled your eyes, if he hadn't captured your lips in another kiss as Jon muttered, “Oh, I'll make sure of that.”

These Starks thought they were so terribly clever didn't they?

It was not an easy thing to do, making a Northern man cry. Reputation made people think that they never did because they couldn't. Unemotional and cold in heart as the winter around them, but in truth it simply was just held inside them securely.

It had been the first time in a long time that he cried, the day Howland Reed learned of Eddard Stark's death.

His son Jojen had seen it, he had the Sight. With no reason to doubt what his son had said, it hurt him greatly to realize he was the last of them. Everyone that had played a pivitol role in some capacity in Robert's Rebellion and all of them but him died before their time. But then again, they all had before their final days anyways.

Something in a lot of them died near the end of that war and no one had quite found a life beyond it, in a way they all were trapped in the rebellion twenty five years later until the last of them died too. Jon Arryn had been first. The brave man who had to make the hard choice of rallying his bannermen against the Mad King, died of a fever, but Howland knew better. He knew Ned would have known better as well.

Then it was Robert, the most obvious of them all. Robert had never lived passed learning that Prince Rhaegar Targaryean had kidnapped Lyanna Stark somewhere along the roads near Harrenhal. He became angry then and he stayed angry until his last day no doubt. He was a wild card, especially when contrasting him to the man Ned Stark used to be. Even looking past a man dedicated to the wife he loved, it was not in his nature to be like Robert.

Robert had bastards all over the country. The ones in Kings Landing were dead, but there were more out there. A man who drank and whored to that degree? Stones, Flowers, Waters, he likely had at least one in all of the Kingdoms. Most of them would just never know it. He could recall it was that nature which she hated.

Lyanna knew who Robert was at his worst, and the simple fact was she also knew that was a life many highborn girls would find themselves fated too. Rare for a highborn girl to have a husband like the way Catelyn Tully had eventually found love in Ned Stark. But in those days, Lyanna's prospects were looking at a lifetime of being insulted by her husbands infidelity.

Ironic, he thought.

But, it never got any better for Robert. He thought he loved Lyanna when he hardly knew a thing about her, and it was that thought which made him angry realizing what Rhaegar had done. And when Ned Stark came back from the war and she was dead? He stayed angry.

Howland only knew bits and parts of the story some from Ned, much from what Jojen could see but it wasn't pretty. Rhaegar Targaryean had been dead for twenty four years and Robert hated him as much then as he did that day they learned what he had done. He wished Baratheons were made a little more of what Northerners were. Just keep some things inside.

But, it was Ned Stark who Howland Reed cried for. Not many knew how deep their bond ran and none but the two of them knew why. They didn't often have the chance to see one another after the rebellion, and even less when Howland finally had his kids but they spoke in writing still. Just not willing to leave his home when he had them. Finally through the horror, Meera and Jojen were Howland's blessings and he missed them terribly.

He knew why they had to go, why they had to go to Bran Stark and now Howland could only hope that somewhere beyond the wall his children were still alive. But, Ned Stark still wasn't and it ate away at him since the years the Lannisters took his head. He hadn't come out since then. Ned died and Howland hid in his Keep in Greywater Watch, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he couldn't anymore. He didn't know what would do it, but he knew it was coming.

But then he'd remember he was the last one. Not just of the men of those days, but the last one who knew. What was he to do with that information, he knew much many didn't. Much that Ned knew, much that Lyanna didn't want people to know and a lifetime of keeping it all inside making him turn inward at how stonewalled he needed to be to contain them.

But there was only one secret that mattered, one that was why Ned Stark had spent the rest of his life trapped within the traumas of rebellion. The reminder of that truth was there for him every single day and when it wasn't he was in a place that served to haunt him with what would happen should the worst come out. Come be Hand of the King Robert said, come to the place your brother and father burned alive trying to demand safe rescue of your sister.

Come witness a place that terrified him to have such a secret be in. But he kept that secret as far North as he could get once those days came knocking. It was all he could do to keep that secret safe still.

It was late at night as Howland finally left. Travelling on his horse along the Kingsroad. Winter was everywhere now, and it didn't slow him one bit. His horse would have to freeze and die to slow this journey down and even then he would keep going. Someone had to keep that secret safe and Howland was all that remained so he had to show his face. But it was along the road that he relived it. He and Ned's reason for why they became the men they were and the complications of what it all meant.

Still now he could recall how in one moment a young girl off in the distance had spotted what was happening, and how as quick as he saw her did she come to his aid. The girl likely no older then fourteen or fifteen, came to the aid of Howland who was even then, already a man. He had been jumped by boys over six years his junior in the roads towards the Tourney of Harrenhal. But, Howland Reed was small and quick. Not large and strong. They were though.

Yet that young girl with black hair and grey eyes came jumping to his defence without a second thought, using only a dull tourney sword to try and chase the boys attacking him off. How she that day brought him to her lair, as she had jested calling it, to get her brothers to help treat his wounds. He met all four Starks that day.

Brandon was the eldest, tall and handsome and had a quick wit and hot temper just as he had seen on the she wolf who rescued him. Benjen was the youngest, only a few years beneath Lyanna in age but laughed easily and held a maturity Howland admired. Offering him armour and a horse, saying if he wanted to get back at the boys who beat him he'd be happy to provide them.

He could still recall the way he and Benjen teased how quickly from a feirce defender Lyanna went, to a watery eyed girl. Hearing a sad song from the beautiful singing voice of Prince Rhaegar, and how she poured her drink on her brother for making fun of her. It was funny then, beacuse it was such a childishly little girl reaction.

It wasn't funny now looking back on it.

Beacuse she was a child. Howland was close in age to the Prince, so it made what followed after all the more horrifying. A pretty, feirce, rebellious maiden did not come to his rescue. Lyanna was just a hot tempered but caring and loyal child. Only a child.

But, he met one more Stark that day. Eddard Stark was the second eldest brother, not quite as well liked and charmingly handsome as Brandon, but more quiet and serious. Howland liked him right away. He liked all four of them he met that day, but he and Ned remained friends with a true ease from that moment onward. A friendship, that all these years later, still felt difficult to accept the end of.

They hadn't known each other for a lifetime, but it was Howland Reed that was trusted with the one thing which would remain only between them for the rest of their lives. And Howland never once wavered in how seriously he took that secret to heart. He could see that secret as clear as he could see that day he met the family of wolves.

It was warm that day. So warm in Dorne that Howland hated it. The sun bore down on them as they travelled, the seven of them, and not a clue what they were walking in on. Not really. The Prince's Pass was their destination, a circular tower standing high in the sky against the backdrop of the Red Mountains. There was hardly anything around it. It was chosen on purpose of course.

One could get to it from Harrenhal without much difficulty and yet it was isolated. Where if they ran from it, where would one go were these sands not their home? It felt like an insult towards Elia Martell to keep a teenage girl in the tower she gifted to her husband, but it also felt like a way to force the girl into relying on who she was trapped with. Even if she escaped, where would she go on her own?

There were seven of them though, and he saw all clear as day. Eddard Stark was at his limit of what he could put up with. Robert Baratheon killed Rhaegar at the Trident, The Mad King was dead and yet all who died gruesomely were still gone. Everyone knew what happened no matter what Tywin Lannister later claimed. He had ordered his knights Ser Gregor Clegane and Ser Amory Lorch to find and kill Elia Martell and her children.

The mountain had ripped the still infant Aegon from his mothers breast and smashed his face against the wall so hard that only blood and bone remained to him. Then dripping in his blood, he had raped Elia before splitting her in half with his greatsword. In the same royal apartments, hiding under her fathers bed, little Rhaenys had been dragged from under it by Lorch and brutally stabbed over fifty times.

And all Robert could say were that they were “dragonspawn” and cared not for dead, innocent children soley because they were Rhaegar's. Ned had argued with him at how disgusting his lack of care was and left Kings Landing alone. Meaning thankfully, Robert was no where near the Tower of Joy that day.

Martyn Cassel, Theo Wull, Ethan Glover, Mark Ryswell, Willam Dustin and of course, Eddard Stark and Howland Reed. Seven good men, skilled men who were as serious as any Northerners and as determined as the brother who was there for the sister still kept away from him.

There were three in the distance. Their white cloaks blowing in the wind, they had not the threat of being out numbered and all knew why. They were there on orders and not once in the war left, it was insulting. Their vows as knights not more important then the thing they were there for, to keep a girl hostage. But, they were Kingsguard, and dangerous ones too.

On one side, Ser Oswell Whent was knelt down on one knee, sharpening his blade with a wetstone. On the other was Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, who stood with his greatsword, Dawn, hung over his right shoulder, a sad smile sat on his face.

Between them was Ser Gerold Hightower, The White Bull and commander of the Kingsguard who stood tall and stern between them. The men all stood at attention as Ned Stark stepped forward first, trying to find any peace when all knew there would be none. Were there going to be peace, they wouldn't be here in the first place.

Ned stood as tall as could be, and as calm as he managed. “I looked for you on the Trident.”

Ser Gerold was the one to respond, taking proper command of the situation for as long as it was leading to the inevitable. “We were not there.”

Beside him with all the confidence that felt both true yet unearned, Ser Oswell spat out “Be the end of the usurper if we had been.” Howland recalled thinking if they considered Robert a usurper, then perhaps they should have done their duty and worked to prevent such a thing from happening, but they either did not have such clarity or were blinded by their own hubris.

His face squinting harshly in the bright sun that was a mixture with the anger and impatience building within him, Ned continued past the offence. “When Kings Landing fell, Ser Jaime slew your King. Your Prince lays dead now at the Trident, and I could only wonder then where you were.”

But Ser Gerold defended their failures of duty as if it was an excuse which mattered to any here. “If we had been there, Aerys would still sit on the Iron Throne, and our false brother would burn in all seven hells.”

It was only after that day, did Howland recall that and he wondered to himself on the journey North, perhaps the Kingsguard were not noble knights to be remembered as brave and valiant, if the final legacy they left behind was this.

Ned had only one plea and all knew it wouldn't work, but he would give them that option no matter what. “The Lords and Knights of the Seven Kingdoms have bent the knee in their defeat. There is none left for your orders to follow.”

Ser Arthur had moved to take his helmet into his hand, a firm but sad look of a man sure of who he was and what he was doing. “Our knees do not bend easily.”

Beside him Ser Gerold only added to their fates. “Nor do we flee our duty. We are Kingsuard. We swore a vow.”

But all men there, the three standing in the way of the tower and the seven against them all knew what vow it was they were still defending. As each remaining six of them came to Ned's side, weapons in hand, Ser Arthur donned his helm finally, and spoke what was to be his last. “And now it begins.”

Eddard Stark however, spoke the truth for more then one of them that day. “No, now it ends.”

Just as the metal of their swords clashed, from the tower was heard Lyanna Stark desperately screaming, “Eddard-” as the fight ensued to get to her.

Three men against seven and all but two remained. Ned Stark and Howland Reed were the only ones who lived to see the end of that fight and it was a bloody horrid sight. But once they were dead, Ned spared not a single second as he ran up the steps of the tower to get to his sister.

Howland stayed behind for a moment, exhausted and nerves shot he looked to the men at his side fallen now and hoped and begged that they did not die in vain. It took him a moment to do so, but with heavy footsteps did he begin the climb of the tower himself.

It was dark inside, not many had been in here for a long time that could tend to much of anything. But it was what was in the air, that made Howland feel a lurch of sickness. The air was thick with the scent of blood and roses.

As he approached the door, he could hear the strained voice of Lyanna Stark in a quiet desperation, filled with a heavy love that radiated too with fear. He heard the faint pleas of her voice which was the last any would, though the door the words, “Promise me, Ned.”

Only even as Howland Reed stood outside of it, Lyanna and Eddard Stark were not alone in that room.

Winterfell was as sturdy as it had been in years. Work still being done to rebuild what was burned down and yet it was still impressive. But Howland Reed was here when he never came before. He didn't come for Robb Stark, and tried to ignore the raven from Castle Black from their once dead Queen.

He didn't answer that call of aid until he had received the news that Eddard Stark's final remaining child, his bastard son, had been crowned King in the North. Howland showed up then, and the very second he saw his face? He felt sick. As if he had never considered the truth of this secret until then and there.

Ned had watched him grow up every day of his life, but Howland had never met him until he walked quietly and unnoticed, into the meeting hall of Winterfell. Hidden amongst the other Lords. Finally understanding that he too, had not truly lived passed that day at the Tower of Joy.

But, upon the truth that Aegon Targaryean was not only living, but had landed in Westeros and had battle first on the island of Dragonstone? There was no words in Howland's mind to describe how it felt, realizing who his opponent in battle had been. Perhaps that was why he rode to Winterfell so quick.

If he had not been too cowardly to come face to face with the memory of a ghost, Howland Reed might have been there to prevent those two men from ever meeting in the first place.

From a tryst against the wall as you and Jon were making your way to the main hall of Winterfell to see to a meeting with the Northern Lords, you had not the concept in your mind of what your life days later would have become. But you also, couldn't have known how much it would make you spiral. How much it twisted your mind into something panicked that you did not recognize.

You suddenly felt without purpose that specific night, and left to go find another in case you lost all hope to keep going before finding it.

Attempts had been made for you to look as nondescript as you could manage, as the pair of you walked into the loud and bustling noise of the tavern. Evening had fallen upon the sky and those nearby in the city took refuge in some of the only entertainment they would get in these early months of winter. Men drinking, laughing and joking as they made jesting passes as the barmaid's serving them more as their nights went on.

The raven scroll had only been able to describe the building as having a wooden sign handing over the entrance of what looked like a horse reaching in the air. If what was said was accurate, they would be here if not tonight then at some point. Your hair was messy in it's looks as you had made sure not to let yourself appear as being used to much effort. The cloak around your shoulders was dark, shabby and only enough to have a hood and cover the equally as unimpressive dress as you fit mostly in with all the others.

Not a single weapon but one hidden dagger. A normal lowborn woman wouldn't be armed as such.

More than once you had to remind Olly not to call you by your title, or even name. Sat on the back of the horse he had asked you, “What am I supposed to call you then?” Thinking about it, your creativity was not quite as good as others and you told him to make one up. A few second passed as he then came up with, “Mya?” So you nodded, saying then Mya it was.

Barrowton was coming into the distance as you and Olly went over once more the covering. “I don't want any to realize who I am, we are here to be discreet. Understood?”

The sun shined low in the sky with a gold as evening fell upon you. Walking into the tavern, you both stood there looking no more out of place then any other. “What's the name of who we're here for?”

Looking around, it wasn't obvious right away if they were here. “For our purposes? They're going by the name Satin.” Olly asking you how would he know if they were here or not, you glanced over at him. “Do you know what I look like?”

Taken back, Olly's face twisted in a confusion. “Yes..”

Turning away, you nodded once. “Good. They look like that.” You knew the boy was struggling to tell if he were annoyed or amused by your dryness over the vague details you were barley offering up. But Olly had known something deeply was wrong from the moment this little journey begun.

He had come across you in a unusually uncomposed state, asking why were you looking as if you were ready to leave, despite the lateness of the hour. “Would you keep it a secret if I told you?” You had asked, and when he assured you yes, you narrowed your eyes.

“I won't tell the King this time I promise.” It wasn't his fault, but he could see a tear in your throat scratching down into your heart that left your eyes hazy as you shook yourself out of it in seconds. Clearing your throat you instructed him that he was not to tell anyone you were leaving for the next day at the least. Not knowing what to say when Olly had asked “Won't the King worry where you went?” You simply sent the boy on his way. Beacuse you didn't know how to tell him that he wouldn't just not worry.

Jon would be grateful you finally were gone.

What was it he wanted? What had he said to you? For you to leave and stop being a burden to him. Leave him alone as he wanted, even if he wanted it for good.

Sitting down, you had ordered water, bread and stew for Olly. Giving him a stern glance to the side as he almost went to speak out to attend to you in that same manner. He wasn't here as your steward, he was here because he hadn't wanted to be left behind and you didn't have the heart to say no to him.

You were leaving in the middle of the night in secret, and Olly had to promise he wouldn't say a word if he wanted to come. You didn't know when you would be returning, how long this would take, but after helping a grieving boy burn the remains of his mother and father, the least you could do was not leave him behind again.

Theon was going to be furious with you for this one.

What you didn't expect, was the sad whine in Ghost when you had finally taken off. Having been out hunting in the wolfswood, he had caught you in sight as he stood perched on a nearby cliff side looking down at you. Wishing he weren't so smart, you knew he could sense what you were doing out here and when you gently tried to call up to him, telling him to go back, that it was alright? Ghost whined, whined more when you gave him a sorrowful look, and you heard him still when you rode off.

Maybe when he got back to Jon, Ghost would pick up what happened and hate you too finally. You had done what was advised against, told Jon the truth and it seems like that truth came at the cost of whatever love was left in his heart for you. He deserved to know, not telling him was cruel, but telling him came at a great cost it felt.

You couldn't even recall the extent of how not normal your mind felt that night. The only thing screaming at you in a very specific voice that Jon didn't want you, and for whatever reason, that might have hurt you into a panic more then anything else. In Castle Black you had been scared you would ruin his life by being in it again, but now it finally came to fruition. You did ruin his life.

As you sat in the tavern, looking around for the one person left to you, you wondered if you should do Jon the courtesy, find a way to free him from his new vows, and leave him to find a better wife you always worried he would want instead. You were tired of being the one to bring him problems.

Only days ago, you had not the inkling of what a disaster one man's appearance in Winterfell would spin into. Days ago, you still thought what Jon felt for you would stay real. You still thought you made him happy, and you now felt that toxifying poison of self loathing at how wrong you were. You told Jon the truth, and your only conclusion, was that the truth made him hate you.

But as the barmaid passed your table, clucking a plate onto it it pulled you right out of the memory. Olly's eyes narrow and concerned on you, but you just grabbed whatever bread was closest on it, and pushed the plate more towards him.

Mumbling through your chewing with a lecturing look, “You're the one still growing. Eat.” But as you chewed, washing it down a bit your eyes found a figure in the distance, and it was exactly the strange reaction you wondered if it would feel. But you looked at them, as they saw you. Jon Arryn was still not wrong.

“The seed is strong.”

One drop of Baratheon blood and the two of you looked just the same here. You could only wonder as you both looked wide eyed at one another, how alone did they truly feel to have reached out to you of all people? It had been many years since that day on the Street of Steel, and you never had a good or safe reason to think you'd see them again. Pylos said they were all dead, all of Roberts bastards. And yet, this one wasn't. The one which lived, you shockingly already knew.

Gendry had travelled all the way North, to try and find you himself.

[factual-fantasy]

Hello Factual! Thanks a ton for answering my last question regarding your acquiring of your Pokemon- the quirky stories attached to their origins make them all the more memorable and lovable! And alongside that, thanks for drawing the full party together in your most recent post! Their personalities were all fleshed out really well in such a simple set up, and as always it's impressive that you kept your art style practically identical despite the transition to paper!

If you don't mind, since I've got the ball rolling at this point- I wish to ask your thoughts on two somewhat more well known Mario enemies than the last pair- and inquire as to their placement in the AU- starting with the jumping dangers from another game- the Ninji!

Ever since their strange "dream" debut in Super Mario Bros 2, they, like many others from that game, have become recurring staples of the main games- always being shown as quick, jumping warriors who work primarily under Bowser. But do you think these goofy little guys would work in the AU? They probably wouldn't be directly affiliated with your mostly Koopa centric Koopa Troop- but perhaps they could be a small band of dangerous assassins, known to do business with the Troop- for the right price- eliminating targets using more "Ninja" like techniques, rather than just jumping...

And the other I wished to mention could prove either very easy or very difficult to implement- another creature hailing from SMB2- the bullet spewing shy guy look alikes- the Snifits!

You of course already have shy guys in the AU, living in seclusion in Shy Guy Woods- but would there perhaps be any Snifits among them? Even in the most recent movie, Snifits have always been shown commanding their weaker Shy Guy Cousins- though their exact biological connection has never been explained- how would you explain it? How would their strange, biological bullets work? Would they live alongside the shy guys, or just live somewhere else entirely? If anywhere at all? And most importantly- would they still have an obsession with hosting game shows, as all the spinoff games show!?

Thanks as always for taking the time to answer our Asks despite your health troubles ( which I sincerely hope are getting better now ) and I'm glad answering them makes you happy! I've obviously been asking a lot of Mario questions lately, so let me know if you want me to ask about a different AU for a change- I just love Mario so much! ( Your awesome AU especially! )

(First post in question) (Second post in question)

No problem! :DD I had a lot of fun making those. And thank you! It certainly isn't easy to keep my style consistent on paper. But hey, at least it's keeping my mind busy! 😅

When it comes to the critters you sent.. I've actually never heard of the first one! 😰 I'd have to do some thinking about where those guys would fit in my AU..

Now for the Snifits, I did see them in the Mario movie. So I am aware of them! But where to put them.. hmm.. I can see myself taking the idea of them, rather than the actual functionality of them.

What I mean is, there could be "higher ranking" shy guys amongst the tribe. And they could wear these black masks instead of white ones. Perhaps they could make use of slingshots or some kind of projectile to keep with the theme..? :0 I'm unsure, but it's definitely something to think about!

And no worries about too many Mario questions, I'm having a lot of fun with them! Thank you for sending them! :D And thank you for the well wishes. I'm hoping that all of this mess is finally over soon 🙏🥹...

[batchilla]

Most Married Divorced couple timeline and other fun stuff.

This post will be updated as it needs to be updated.

I recently received some feedback that the third chapter of The Most Married Divorced couple caused some minor confusion, and so! a timeline to help make it clear what happens when is now being created! I also included fun facts about the series and my writing quirks because I am desperate for people to talk to meeee.

I have the full version, but this post will reflect the currently released works, or works that I can fit in spoiler free, such as the flashbacks, which are of course all prior to the main fic and can be read as stand alone if you so choose to just ignore their doomed future haha.

Purple titles are linked - let me know if I forget to link any of them!

Five times Robin rescued you and one time he didn't. (no link as not yet out)

This was a confusing one to fit in, as I would say that technically complicated exists somewhere in the middle of the many rescues, but I settled on first as it includes you meeting Jason.

the five as of this stage of development are:

the first time

the creation of your desert arrangement

the first time he drops you off at home

Complicated would occur loosely here

followed by the remaining rescues which I am keeping close to my chest.

Complicated

This could be read as a stand alone, but it is intended as the first kiss of this particular reader and Jason. It takes place shortly before Jason's death, maybe a year or two prior. While I never set an age in stone for the reader, I would imagine them to be mid to early teens.

We then experience a time-skip of several years.

Chapter one of The most married divorced couple

Till death do us part.

This fic occurs with no set age in mind for the reader or Jason, but you are settled into a apartment, and your daughter Mary is three years old, so I had imagined her as mid to late twenties or so, but you do not have to of course!

Chapter two of The most married divorced couple

Four years later

We skip forward four years into your divorce. Those of you with your smartie pants on will know this puts Mary as around seven years of age. This, for the majority of the time, is considered the 'main' time period, with anything before being a flashback. While I tried to make this clear, I will say it more plainly here because I am talking as me and it is easier to communicate this more bluntly out of the story:

Jason had zero contact post divorce with the reader or Mary until the events of chapter three; two years of utter silence. After the events of chapter three, while officially no changes in the custody arrangement were made, during the two years between three and two, Jason has come over as we see him do in 'four years later', or been present at places he could plausibly ran into you.

Chapter three of The Most married divorced couple

Jason comes home.

Despite what I just said about the main timeline, chapter three is an immediate flashback to the first time Jason returned after two years of total silence. Simply put this is two years AFTER till death do us part and two years BEFORE four years later. Or, for those of us keeping track by Mary's age, when she is five.

Chapter four of The Most married divorced couple

Churros, Coffee, hard Conversations, and Custody. (no link at this time because it isn't out yet)

a sneak peak of the unreleased chapter? in this economy? more likely then you think.

Jason wakes up on your couch, the morning after the events of Four Years Later, and after spending the morning as close as your heart can take to as a proper family would, with Mary, (once again aged seven for those keeping up that way) off to school, a very important, very sad, rather heated discussion must be had.

FUN FACTS

I, when writing x readers, try to avoid having the reader described as walking or running anywhere as I am a wheelchair user irl, and it often breaks immersion for me. No hate to writers who don't, its not a failing on your part, but I hope my fellow wheelchair girlies feel seen! I don't have her explicitly in a wheelchair, because I feel that it wouldn't represent most of my readers, but I have made a conscious effort that it could be read that way.

Jason's hoodie in chapter two, while never canonically described and therefore whatever you imagine it to be, in my own heart, is the 'I am kenough' hoodie. I had it as that in a draft, but I felt it changed the vibe too much to make it canon.

works I am considering writing for this series in addition to the main timeline:

meeting the resurrected Jason as Red Hood

The proposal

A series of dabbles or at least short, short, segments on what it's like to be pregnant in a family of the worlds greatest detectives

a short story about how Damian was impacted by the divorce

A far into the future mainly crack fic with the many bat uncles and aunts, Jason, and Grandpa Bruce all trying to convince a teen Mary to come join THEIR super team / to be their sidekick.

Let me know in the replies if any of these particularly excite you! I make no promises of writing them but they are rattling around in my mind.

[ladyazurith]

Thoughts on and Headcanons for Rook Hunt

Rook is a very divisive character for me, and I’ve gone back and forth on how I feel about him. I absolutely hate how he treats the nonhuman students. I also hate the vin where he comments on Vil gaining weight when it wasn’t even noticeable to someone with normal eyes. That’s not a healthy mindset. Nor can I ignore the wall of hidden photos we see peaking out behind the wallpaper in his (canon) room. 

I do not like how he handled the end of Chapter 5. The way he gushed about Neige and revealed his obsession, right in front of Vil, after everything that had just happened. I know people get upset over the fact he voted for RSA, and while I think it was a dick move for him to have revealed that it was his vote that cost them the show. It’s more that he hid something like that from Vil, and given how they talked about everything related to the theater together, and he knew Vil’s connection to Neige it just feels…really shitty that that's how it came out. 

On the other hand, I really do think he cares about Vil. I have never truly shipped them together (the only time I’ve written them in a relationship together was in a poly with Cater) I do think he loves Vil in a brotherly fashion. And I think they’re important to each other. Vil especially I think values Rook’s friendship more than he wants to admit. (This is also kinda why I think his actions at the end of chapter 5 were so crappy)

At the same time, I think he suffered from character assassination at that point. They needed Rook to do what he did to thematically fit the narrative and his role as the royal Hunstman. And they cared about that more than if it was something Rook would truly do. As much as I love twist and the story, I find myself having this complaint often. They’re more concerned about the overall narrative than what actually makes sense for the various characters. I could write an entire essay on this especially where Cater is concerned, with him and his interaction with the other characters and his place in the overall narrative. (Again a subject for another time)

On a less serious note, as far as romance goes, I’m reminded of a line from a very old Christmas movie called “White Christmas” where one of the main characters goes. "I'm not the marrying kind or the engaging kind, I'm more the I don't mind pushing my best friend into it but I'm scared stiff when I get anywhere close to myself kind" I can see Rook endlessly encouraging Vil to pursue his heart (With me it's him insisting to Vil he does have feelings for Cater and should give him a chance) But the idea of his own actual love affair terrifies him. He’d rather just watch other people fall in love. 

I do think he has several secret perches around campus that no one knows about. 

I also think he and Cater would be absolutely great and chaotic friends, that would strike fear into Vil’s heart. They both share a love of photography and him. I can just imagine Vil having to endure the two of them talking about him while he’s sitting right there lol. 

I also gave them an anonymous magicam account where they post pictures of student life on campus (Mostly taken by Rook, but some by Cater) 

I developed Rook’s Family for a fanfic I wrote a while ago. So some of this comes from that. I know if we ever get to meet his family this will all be obsolete but its still fun to work with. I also won't go into to much detail here, because his Family could be an entire post on its own. (Just like Cater’s) 

His father works directly for Leona’s brother (And previously their father) as head of Royal Wildlife Management in the Savanah, a position his family has inherited for generations after they made the move there.  A position his eldest brother will inherit one day. His eldest Sister I made a traveling exotic vet. 

Rook himself is a fraternal twin. Reinette (the name I gave her) also has magic but doesn’t attend NRC because it (appears) to be an all male school. But she acts much like Rook did in his Savanaclaw days. Longer hair, sunbaked skin, and loaded with freckles. 

His younger brother I named Florent and idolizes his big brother, and is the only other Hunt child to have magic. He’s set to go to NRC as a first year when Rook is a 4th year. 

His youngest sister and the baby of the family is Fleur, and shares Rook’s and their father’s love of theater, albeit for the more technical side, and also has more than a slight obsession with Vil.

At his core, I don’t think Rook really feels like he fits in anywhere. Pomefiore and Vil have come as close as it gets for him, but it’s still not right. He’s restless, and is still searching for his “home”. 

As an adult, I’d given him the profession of a wildlife photographer (French Steve Irwin is how I described it) It’s something I think he’s well suited for. 

That’s probably enough for now, thank you if you made it this far ^^

[seo-julie]

Natsu Kanna - The Child Mechanical God Ep 2

Characters: Kanna, Makoto, Keito, Kanata Release: 25/7/2024 Proofreading: leen Translation: seo-julie

Season: Spring Location: Seisoukan courtyard

✧

Kanna: Sigh… Senpai, you don't know anything, do you?

This is the latest sleeping device I developed, and I call it “Sleep Peacefully Anywhere-kun”.

Keito: What's with that name? It sounds something like that of an unsuccessful comedian's name.

Makoto: (Hasumi-senpai, your straight man¹ act is prompt and precise… I need to learn a thing or two from you.)

Kanna: The name doesn't matter. It's not like I'm the one naming it. 

Based on the latest ergonomics research, this bed is perfectly constructed so that anyone can get a good night's sleep instantly.

In addition, there is also a function that increases the effectiveness of recovering from fatigue by several dozen times. If you doubt it, would you like to give it a try?

It seems like both of you couldn't sleep, just like me. If you use “Sleepy-kun (abbreviation)”, then you'd be in a dream in no time. 

Makoto: Ah, I might be a little interested.

Hehe. I buy all those latest gadgets even when I'll probably use them only once and then throw them into the closet.

Kanna: As long as there are such curious customers, my job will not disappear.

Makoto: Job? If you're at Seisoukan, doesn't that mean you're an idol as well?

Kanna: For the time being, yes. But my main job is something else.

Kanna: Calling myself an inventor might sound shady, but that’s what I do. 

Makoto: Ah, I think I've heard of it somewhere. I see, you're that "Deus Ex Machina²", aren't you?

Keito: What is with that name? It sounds like a name made up by someone with chuunibyou. 

Makoto: (As expected! Your straight man act is so good, please let me call you master!)

Keito: Why are you looking at me with such sparkling eyes…?

Kanna: I didn't come up with that nickname for myself. "Deus Ex Machina" is not a very promising name. 

Keito: A mechanical god…? Are you actually an ingeniously crafted robot that looks like a human?

Makoto: Ahaha, he does give off that same vibe.

Kanna: …People often said that.

Anyways. Everyone, why don't you try using this bed for a while?

As an apology for causing you both concern, I'll give you two a good night's sleep.

Makoto: Ah, as I said earlier, I'm interested~♪ Do I just lie down here? And sleep peacefully until morning?

Keito: H-hey, wait, Yuuki, don't be so careless now–

Kanna: Alright.

Keito: Woah!?

(W-what? I was suddenly pushed from behind…!?)

Makoto: W-whaa, please don't crash on me, Hasumi-senpai! This bed was probably made to fit only one person!?

Kanna: –Good night, seniors.

Please sleep in peace. This way, you'll forget all the troubles of reality.

Location: Makoto's Dorm

Makoto: ……

(Ah, huh? I, was I sleeping? Was it all just a dream?)

(That was such a strange dream… But, yeah, it had to be a dream. It was so unrealistic.)

(I had a weird conversation with a weird kid under the moonlight. It's a dream, and no matter who you talk to, they'll all say, 'So what?' Such a trivial story.)

Ahaha. I must be having all these unrealistic dreams because I play these games all the time. Stop having weird delusions, I need to face reality–

Keito: Yuuki! Are you there?

Makoto: W-whoa, what a surprise!? H-Hasumi-senpai? Is there anything I can help you with?

Keito: Do you remember what happened last night?

Makoto: Yes?

Keito: I wonder if that was a dream after all… A dream is a dream, my memory is getting hazy and I can't remember much anymore.

Didn't we see a strange machine and child last night? 

Makoto: Um… No but, it was a dream, right? But, huh, did Hasumi-senpai have the same dream as well?

Location: Seisoukan courtyard

Kanna: …

(Sigh~... Looks like by interfering with their cranial nerves, I was able to erase their memories, but it seems like there was something I forgot to subtly erase.)

(Not yet, it's not yet perfect.)

(If the results are lower than what the developer expected, if the product does not perform the desired functions, then it is an utter failure…)

(...Just like me.)

(Commercialization would be difficult. There's still room for improvement.)

Kanata: Hm~m h~m?

Kanna: Is there something troubling you?

Kanata: ? Yes, well, you know, I like taking “cold baths³”. But this, “season” is a bit too cold and I'm afraid I might catch a “cold”–

Kanna: I see. Well then, why don't you try this invention.

This is called, “Kettle that Makes Everything Hot-kun”.

(Humans find things that are alike in only appearance to be ominous.)

(This uncanny feeling… Even so, I too want to overcome it.)

(I'm…)

(Not… a machine.)

Kanata: ? What's wrong~?

Kanna: No… Sorry, it malfunctions sometimes.

Kanna: (As of this moment, not yet.)

(But, I'm sure someday...)

¹ The original word used for this was “tsukkomi”. It's from what I think is a troupe(?) known as boke and tsukkomi. Boke and tsukkomi are loosely equivalent to the roles of "funny man" or "comic" (boke) and "straight man" (tsukkomi) in the comedy duos of western culture. Which is why I have opted to use straight man for the tl. ² Deus ex machina is a Latin calque from Greek ἀπὸ μηχανῆς θεός (apò mēkhanês theós) “god from the machine”. The term was coined from the conventions of ancient Greek theater, where actors who were playing gods were brought on stage using a machine. ³ The original word used was “mizuabi” which literally translates to “bathing in cold water”.

Directory

[pretzlforpresident]

What are your thoughts on the sonic manga?(I know you’ve made and reblogged art for it so you like it to some degree) but I’d still like to hear what you have to say on it. Is there anything that interests you in particular about it? Do you have any headcanons or ideas around it?

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THANK YOU FOR ASKING!!!

I really like the sonic mangas and think they are a corner of the sonic canon that needs to be discussed more. I think I find myself drawn to them partly because of their obscurity and that there are some interesting ideas in them that you don't see much of anywhere else in the franchise.

I've got some ideas spinning around in my brain for general ideas, things I've noticed, and headcanons, so here are a few!

I think that Nicky would be fun to fit into Sonic's arc growing up and becoming a hero! I have an idea I am currently working on that I need to organize my thoughts for, but Nicky being unaware that he is a hero, eventually realizing that he is, and growing because of it is something I want to explore possibly in a future au of sorts. From what I understand by reading as much of the manga as I could find around, Sonic has been around for a while, sort of as a literal force of good. When Nicky turns into him, I think it's interesting how even though he's doing good and being a hero, he still is basically possessing the body of some kid who is unaware of these actions. The main character of a superhero story being unaware that they are a hero is a concept that I don't think is very common(at least not that I've seen), so there's a tricky balance of morality at play here that could be interesting to see!

Tania/Anita is one of my favorite characters probably in the whole franchise. Remember, it’s Tania’s world. You’re just living in it. Tania or die.

Paulie, being a pilot, taught Nicky about planes when he was young and how to care for them as a bonding thing. I think it would be cute if Sonic eventually passed on this information to Tails as a Parallel. I’ve been seeing a lot of people recently drawing sonic older, and one thing that I absolutely love is when they give him some scruff on his chin because I think subconsciously “omg he looks like Paulie…"

I think Shadow and Tania should be friends. Like, Tania trying to keep up to shadow in his air shoes while she roller blades, then Shadow giving her skating lessons. Making fun of Sonic together(playfully). Maybe that’s just me though

Sonic was classically trained on violin and now plays the guitar? Hilarious. I need him to have gifted kid burnout.

That's all I can think of right now! once again thank you for asking :D

[melbatron5000]

The confines of a story

Any time you play a game, you need to know the rules. A puzzle has a border, you can't smash the pieces into a spot they don't fit with a hammer (I mean, you can, but it won't look right when you're done), etc.

My mental assumptions are that we are following the rules of stories as told in both novel form and video form. I'm not going to list ALL the rules associated with storytelling in both forms, because whole books and classes have been written about them and the parameters are way too big.

How do I know these rules? Well, I write novels, too. I'm not Neil Gaiman, (and I'm not going to go so far as to say I'm anywhere near his level, looking at you, Magic Trick OP), but the people who've read my books say they like them, so I think I do okay? I never went to school for any of it, but the library was and is my best friend, and I've read as many books and taken as many workshops as I can on this topic. Am I an expert? Nah. I know some stuff. There's always more to know.

So anyhow, some rules:

Rule one: the story has to be generally satisfying and not make people feel betrayed or angry. Hurt is fine, angry at the characters is fine, tricked is fine, but the reader can't feel betrayed or totally let down by the author at the end of the story. It's impossible to avoid this entirely, but most people in general have to agree that the story isn't a betrayal of the reader. The author needs to keep faith with their reader as best they can.

Rule two: in mysteries, all the cards need to be on the table at some point. Misdirection or downplaying of important information or use of double-meaning words are totally fair tactics, but the answer has to be there to be sussed out by a clever observer. (I got really mad when I tried to read murder mysteries for a little while. I figured this rule out very quickly on my own, and I could always spot the killer by the end of the second chapter. I gave up on murder mysteries. HOWEVER, another author I admire wrote a classic murder mystery-style book, and when I spotted the killer in chapter two like always, she had arranged matters so that the killer's motive was shrouded in deep mystery. I burned through that book to find out WHY he dunnit, and when the main character helped the killer escape at the end, I was troubled but satisfied.) But mah point is, all the pieces to the puzzle need to come in the box.

Rule three: (which isn't really a rule so much as an observation and something I myself struggle with), writing fiction can be very hard because people are naturally not good at knowing that other people do not know what they know. You know? Psychological studies have shown that when a person knows something, like where an object is, they develop this sort of assumption that the object's location is OBVIOUS, or that other people also know where the object is or can easily guess it, no matter how hard a time they had guessing it themselves before they were told. So not only do newer writers sometimes struggle to maintain what various characters do and don't know at different times in a story, readers can also struggle with the same thing. Gotta keep your eyes peeled for what information each character actually has, and also keep in mind how easy it is to be fooled when you think you have all the facts. I notice Neil and John taking advantage of this in Good Omens a lot -- the lies that Crowley and Aziraphale tell to the other angels and demons seem really obvious -- but that's because we know they are lying and what they're lying about. When we are lied to, we fall for it as easily as those angels and demons, because we assume we know what's going on. Watch out!

Rule four: you can't break the rules. If you're going to make a wild, avant garde, ground-breaking story, that's pretty much the whole point of the entire story. Twists are fine, emphasizing or de-emphasizing expected tropes or ideas is fine, subverting a trope is fine. Otherwise, you have to stick to ideas, formats, plots, structures, etc., that have come before. For example, just as I started seeing metas about the POV characters in Good Omens 2 jumping around, I had remembered an episode of the X-Files from way back where an "alien landing" is told from three characters' perspectives. When told from the POV of the alien conspiracy-believing kid, the story gets really weird with all kinds of wild things happening. When told from doubting Scully's perspective, it gets very boring and mundane. POV jumping is nothing ground-breakingly new. There won't be anything ground-breakingly new.

Rule five: it has to make sense. Mark Twain once said, "Of course truth is stranger than fiction. Fiction has to make sense." Once upon a time, a friend of mine who liked to embellish stories told me all about his new fiancee, who he'd met and proposed to all in a few months, who was head over heels for him, a gorgeous red-head, one of triplets. I never met this mystery woman, and then one day he called me to tell me she had died very suddenly and dramatically. I had my suspicions that she wasn't even real in the first place, so I made consoling noises and asked him when and where the funeral was so I could be there for him. I expected to be put off, told some crazy reason why there wouldn't be a funeral or it hadn't been planned yet and I would somehow mysteriously not hear about it until it was over. Instead, he gave me a date and location immediately. I was taken aback. I was even more taken aback when I arrived at the funeral to meet this woman's family, including the remaining red-headed pair from her triplet set, and hear all about what a whirlwind romance she'd had with my friend. If that had been a novel, I would have shut the book and told the author to give me a break. Books and TV and movies and plays can't push the consumers' credulity too much. Readers have to maintain their willingness to suspend their disbelief. It can't get too crazy. What's too crazy? Hard to say, it's kind a of a "I'll know it if I see it" sort of thing. And some people are certainly more willing to go along with something wild than others. The author can only try their best to maintain faith. To tell a story that can be believed.

Anyhow, I dunno if that's helpful at all, but it's sort of the litmus test I'm using to gage all my questions and theories. And what I'm using to shuffle in the metas and theories I like from others.

[essential-oils234]

Writing 101: Tips and tricks for experienced authors to novice ones, or just a little reading for anyone who wants to learn something new.

Have you ever gotten into a slump where writing feels like a failed career and nothing you write ever seems to turn out well? (I know I have). Maybe you're itching to write something, it's been so long since you've looked at your notebooks of inspiration or google docs of madness. Maybe you just don't know where to start, and it feels like you've failed before you even begun.

Well, I have a few tips that just might remedy that!

(I'm in no way an experienced writer. I've read a lot of books, watched a lot of character analyses on Youtube, but I'm only at the start of my writing journey. So please don't take this to be expert advice and don't feel disheartened if my methods don't work for you. Everyone has a unique style of writing, and it's only through trial-and-error that you can really begin to find yours too.)

So, without further ado, here are some tips and tricks that helped me organize my thoughts and plan out chapters, develop my characters, and resist the call of procrastination.

------

"What do I want from this story?"

It's a question that sounds elusively simple, but it's one that's more tricky to answer. For me, at least, it's hard to pinpoint a few ideas that manage to encapsulate what I want the readers to feel or understand from my story. It's even harder when I try to summarize my thoughts into broad themes/ideas, such as love, compassion, hard work, etc.

I usually start a story on the basis of something really small, and then I work out from there. For example, I'm currently working on a Genshin Impact fic that I only started writing after watching an animatic. An animatic. (The link will be at the end of this post, if you guys want to check it out and show some love to the creator.)

A whole freaking story started on the basis of an animatic that is 1 minute and 41 seconds long. It's kinda crazy how that worked out. But in a way, it makes sense. The biggest creations start from small, simple ideas that slowly grow over time.

What I'm trying to say is: don't disregard those silly little ideas that you think don't hold much importance over trying to figure out the big, important plot. Oftentimes, it's those silly little ideas that make up the big important plot. So I'd advise you to turn to a blank page or start a new google doc and write that question at the top. "What do I want from this story?" Your answers could be anything, from little details like "he goes back to his birthplace to confront his family" or more broad ideas like "they have a conversation about loss and how to cope with that". Bullet points or sentences, whatever you choose, this is your dumping ground for all the stupid ideas you have that might not ever make it into your story. The point of the question is to exercise your mind and get it thinking about the main plot, as well as a helpful organization tool for all those scattered thoughts that don't really fit anywhere else.

2. "What if I can't start writing a story because I just don't have any ideas?"

That is a harder question to answer, since writer's block has a multitude of solutions that work for some people and don't for others. My advice is, keep focusing on the small things, since it essentially forces you to start minimally and branch out from there. Inspiration is all over the internet, and those small ideas can help jumpstart your brain into creating something new. If you see a few posts about 'cottagecore' on Pinterest and that inspires you to write a fantasy story about witches, then go for it! If you read a book and want to write something similar, except with a different ending, go ahead! (Except if you're posting it on the internet, please credit the original creator.)

Don't feel guilty for "stealing someone else's idea" or mad at yourself for "not being able to come up with anything original". We all have to start somewhere, and it's okay if what you write isn't completely novel. (That's what fanfiction is for, after all!)

Oftentimes, our brain puts us in a corner where we convince ourselves that we just can't write anything because we don't have any ideas. Maybe that's true, but the thing about writer's block is that you really won't have any ideas unless you start actively thinking about potential plots or characters. Searching up 'writing prompts' on Tumblr will no doubt feed you with a slew of interesting ideas that you can build off from there, and Pinterest is a gold-mine of creativity. The main thing, of course, is to have fun in the process. In the end, the person who you're really writing for is yourself.

3. "Okay, I have a few ideas and plot points, but what about organizing it? How do I go about organizing a multi-chapter story?"

This question is from people who are mainly like me, who like organizing their chapters out before they actually write them. It's good to have a reference point to come back to if you take a writing hiatus, and it's just nice having everything jotted down somewhere I can easily find.

I'm not going to get too specific here, since everyone has their own way of writing notes, but after I have a bunch of main ideas that more or less make up the whole plot, I start narrowing those ideas down into chapters. I have sections of bullet-points for each chapter, which have general ideas that aren't too specific, since I tend to figure out the specifics as I'm writing. (ex. He has a flashback that shows his past before switching back to the present) If you're a person who's pretty gung-ho about these things, you might lean towards the idea of "figuring it out as you go along". If you're super organizational, your chapter notes might go down to the most minute detail before you actually start writing.

I also have a few 'braindump' sections that are pretty much like the "What do I want from this story?" notes, except they're a bit more relevant to the plot instead of just random details and dialogue I want to insert sooner or later. I also have sections where I write about important themes in my story that require further elaboration (ex. the concept of morality, what it means to be human, etc.) It's important to flesh out these ideas beforehand so you have a good idea of how to show these underlying themes in your actual story.

Last but not least, please, please, please flesh out your characters before you start writing a story. It's honestly my least favorite part of writing, but it's incredibly important because your characters are what makes up your story. A good story is known from it's good characters. I, personally, create lists of traits/flaws for my main characters so I can, as a writer, understand them better and know how to show their personalities in writing. I also write lists of attributes before and after they go through ✨character development✨ so I can understand how they've changed and grown and start formulating ideas on how to show that in my writing.

------

So, we've reached the end! Yay, that took way too long and I didn't even get to talk about procrastination!!🎉🎉 Hopefully, this will not be the first and last 'Writing 101', since there's plenty more I'd like to talk about and plenty more to learn. If you have any questions or anything you want me to talk about next, don't hesitate to drop a comment or ask me anything! I'll try to answer to the best of my abilities. If you liked this post, please leave a like or a comment. It's really motivating and just feels great to know if people like my content.

(Here's the link to the animatic I mentioned earlier: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=REBxGWSMRn4. It's been a huge source of inspiration for my writing and art, and the person who made it is insanely talented. If you're into Genshin Impact or just want to see some good art, go check out their other animations and comment/leave a like!)

I hope your writing journey is nothing short of spectacular and creatively amazing, and I'll see you in the next one!

[riacte]

im soooooo emotion over dearly beloathed. it is so good as an epistolary work, and i genuinely feel like that format/style/genre worked really well for the story, it let us know the characters through how they portray themselves to others and who they are to different people/groups. i also loved how my understanding of Freth grew naturally over the course of reading it, I didn't notice until i was like "oh yeah that's just the culture there. ofc they'd do something like that" because it was so fluid and seamless.

every twist was well set up and just. it was crack-y and comedic, but those only made the emotional parts hit harder????

anyways. favorite random character/not main one. go! (i choose herohqphobic) also was there any like. reference or small thing (maybe characters who had different usernames across platforms or something?) that you loved and nobody seemed to notice?

i want to know. this is my new blorbo. entire fucking thing

Hii thank you for reading 🥺🙏

I could genuinely go on and on about Freth as a city because it's based after where I was raised, Hong Kong. The superhero genre is most commonly associated with American comics. It feels like their cities are either in USA or USA-inspired. To me there's subconsciously an inherent USA vibe even if that's not the actual case. I felt the pull myself before going, hold on, I live in a city, it's a pretty significant city, and theoretically superheroes can exist anywhere.

I'm of course biased on this but Hong Kong is an interesting city with interesting implications if you use it for a setting. And especially because it naturally seems so "cyberpunk". Densely populated, gives off the impression of being highly urbanised, but 70% of the land is not developed. Has a natural harbour, next to the sea, at the mouth of a river, but is hilly and full of scenic spots. Well developed public transport system (if the rail goes down for half an hour it gets on the news). The city with the most skyscrapers in the world, has one of the world's highest life expectancy (I'm still confused by this lol), ranked 4 in HDI for 2022 (also confused by this 💀 like we're above Denmark and Sweden?).

[Night view of Victoria Harbour, Hong Kong Tourism Board]

I wanted Freth to be busy, hectic, fast-paced, rich, technologically savvy. A glittering city with heroes for celebrities. Freth is an important port which is why the heroes fight so hard to protect its infrastructure for the ~economy~. But then the government decides the heroes are getting too powerful and culls the herd.

Anyways. I love all the random characters. Flora balefires_thighs had quite the arc pivoting from Tach anti to Tach fan (and is still bitchless, rip), but I have to go with arcussy because I love that name 😭😭😭 like Arucs is their babygirl meow meow grown adult son who cheated and got "cancelled" etc but it's fine ❤️ they still love his annoying ass ❤️

Small thing that didn't get picked up on! The location names! I based a lot of those on existing places in Hong Kong— Triple Shark Territory (Tsim Sha Tsui), Cannon Hill (Fortress Hill), Crossway (Causeway Bay), etc. Lots of these names have animals in them, like Dolphin Bay and Starlingfield, and these are based after real species that can be found in HK— except for one. Ravenwood. I don't think ravens exist in Hong Kong, making it fitting for an underground human experimentation lab. I don't expect anyone to know this though, it's more of a fun niche trivia for myself.

I don't know if this is obvious or not, but Cora has a crush on Archie. And Reina likes Cora while Lyra and Ben are doing their whole situationship thing. The consequences of crushing on your best friend.

Final note: the four main characters spell out Blue Bats. Blue for civilian names (Ben, Lyra, Uma, Ethan (he chooses this eventually)), and Bats for (future) hero names (Balefire, A??, Tachythanatous, S??). The year is also 827 because Aug 27 is when the MCC9 teams dropped lol. 🤡

Thank you so much for reading, glad you enjoyed it! <3 <3

[asterias-record-shop]

╭════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╮

         — i'll win him over

╰════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╯

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[join the taglist!]𓆪

Requested by anonymous: HIIIIIII!!!! Oh boy am I excited. Okay so now it's my turn for James Keene 🤩. Can I please request a story (it's a bit specific, but I've just finished peaky blinders and can't get it out of my head) which takes place after Jimmy has gotten out of jail. The reader has an older brother (think like Richie Boyle from the Outfit..it could even be him if thats okay with you) who runs a similar business like the one Jimmy used to, but they both hate each other. Nevertheless Jimmy falls for his sister which wounds up to be tough for both men. If you want the reader can have more brothers who run the business. THANK YOU FOR YOIR TIME I HOPE THAT WASNT CONFUSING LMAO BYEEEEE

pushed back in time to the 50s I believe, not in the same universe as Black Bird, someone should request for Richie Boyle 👀 *wink wink, request for richie boyle babe-* also, no smut!! i wasn't really in the mood for smut, sorry anon honey :( also, yes, a bit confusing but it's okay! i hope i did it justice :)

Jimmy's front was a bar that he was a bartender for. It fit, honestly, being a bartender for a drug dealing front. The only thing that didn't fit was the flower shop right next to him his competition always frequented.

Richie was too much of a firecracker to be liked, he had a problem with his anger issues so no matter how many times Jimmy tried to make some sort of alliance, it always ended in Richie getting pissed off and leaving — not before punching one of Jimmy's men though.

Today, he was determined to find out what the hell was so interesting about the flower shop next to his bar. Maybe it was just a ploy to see what he was doing? Figure out if they could steal another shipment?

All of the thoughts were running through his mind as he walked into the flower shop, opening the door to make a bell ring out. All of the smells flooded into his nose, his eyes widening when he saw all of the beautiful flowers and mixed bouquets. They were absolutely beautiful and bright, each flower absolutely perfect with zero wilted petals or leaves.

"Hi, welcome in! I'm so sorry, be there in a minute!" Your voice rings out, Jimmy pausing.

Maybe it wasn't what was so in the shop but who.

"That's alright love!" James slowly walked through the aisles, trying to find you in the entirety of all of the flowers that could've blinded him if they were lights. For fucks sake, they were all beautiful. You put together different colors and textures, one bright bouquet of roses and sunflowers catching his eye.

"That was my first bouquet I made," you say, walking toward him with a smile. "N-Not that one exactly, but the roses and the sunflowers. They're one of my favorites."

"It's beautiful." James said, smiling as he looked back at you. "I'm James, I run the bar next door."

You pause but take his hand and give it a firm shake. "Y/N. Nice to meet you. What can I do for you, James?"

"Well, I'm not sure if you know, but I run more of the high-end bars in town, and someone is always asking why we don't have centerpieces in the VIP rooms." James makes up the lie quickly, smiling down at her. "It doesn't have to be very big, and you will have full creative freedom if that helps guide your decision. All I ask is that they are different every week."

"Oh. Oh wow, when would you need the flowers? Come with me," you say, keeping his hand in yours and pulling him to the back. "Is there any color scheme that you want? Or a limit in price?"

"No, again, full freedom. Anything you want, I'll just pay every week." He smiled at you as you pursed your lips, humming.

"Well, it wouldn't be weekly. If anything, it would be biweekly, I make sure my flowers last longer than a week. There's a special element in the water." You say, writing down some ideas in some pretty handwriting. "Each bouquet would range anywhere from thirty to one hundred each. Is that okay?"

"Perfectly fine. I would only need eight each order because it's strictly for VIP rooms."

“Oh, gotcha! I can do that,” you smile one of the prettiest smiles he had ever seen. “I can get these for you in two days. Sound good?”

“Very good, love. Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

The bell rings making you look up, yelling out, “In the back!”

“Y/N! Where are you?!”

You rolled your eyes. “In the back!”

“Oi, you seen that-” Richie paused when he saw James, gaping. “Why the fuck are you here?!”

“Richie! Go away, he’s a customer!” You yell, quickly standing up straight. “James, I will have these flowers for you soon, okay?”

“No you won’t!” Richie comes between you both after you go around the desk, shaking his head. “You stay the fuck away from my sister.”

James paused, looking from you to Richie. “She’s too pretty to be your sister.”

“Haha, very fucking funny! She’s adopted, you asshole, leave her the fuck alone!”

“Richie, stop!” You say, pushing him as hard as you could. “I’m so sorry, James, ignore him.”

“I will,” James smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

It makes you smile, nodding. “Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“No he won’t!”

“Shut up, Richie!”

After that, you saw him a lot more. James came to see you every day, it was just a matter of time before something happened.

It started off slow, soft kisses behind closed doors and light touches when no one was looking, but Jimmy wanted to change that. You were the first girl he actually wanted to get serious with, he wanted to be able to go out on dates with you without risking being punched by your brother.

Maybe that's the reason why he stood in front of your house, ready to meet Richie and then your dad to continue to court you. It was something stupid he normally didn't believe in, but he wanted to do it right.

So, as soon as he passed the gates, he really did expect the punch he got straight to the face.

"You kissed my sister you bastard?!"

"Rich! Richie, you leave him alone!" You tried to yell, gasping as James shoved him.

"Don't fucking hit me!" He shouted, wiping at his mouth with a sigh. "I came to get your respect, not your approval."

"You don't have any of that, get out!" Richie goes in for another hit before Jimmy caught his wrist, shoving him.

"Listen to me!" James shoved him again, looking over his shoulder to stare at you being held back by one of his henchmen. "I love your sister, even if you don't know anything about that shit."

"Don't you fucking-"

"I'm going to be with her no matter what." Jimmy smiled back at you before glaring at your brother. "So, you better learn how to fucking live with it."

His words make you smile widely, giggling. "Move, Richie!"

Reluctantly, he does with a shout of your father, letting you run forward and into Jimmy's arms. "Oh my, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'll take more than a punch to be with you." He smiled as you giggled, pressing a firm kiss to his lips. "I'll win him over, I promise."

"You better, or he might just kill you!"

Regular taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪   𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪   𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪   𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪   𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪  𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪   𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪   𓆩[@c78r]𓆪   𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪   𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪   𓆩[@xoxomoonlightbabe]𓆪

© asterias-record-shop

[nomsfaultau]

Daily ask №27!

Turn the lights off x Fault edition because why not!

For context TTLO is my unpublished fic that I'm working on. The main plot is that Tommy accidentally gets into the cryptid world where he meets new friends and uncovers the truth about his past.

1. In TTLO cryptids are people who have died in some unusual way and then stayed in the community's memory as folklore, cautionary tales, etc. After some emotions and belief are poured into them, they reappear as monsters aka cryptids. That could include anything from vampires to sirens to a girl who cut their head open on a rock and emerged as some mushroom monstrosity. Now that that's out of the way, what sort of cryptids would Fault characters be, if they were one?

2. What sort of a cryptid would YOU be? On that note, I might've made you canon in TTLO for the funsies. You're a mute author who lived in the main town quite some years ago, but one time the town's connection to the other towns got temporarily cut off for whatever reason and with that, a paper and ink shortage happened. You, due to not being able to express your stories and ideas, went completely mad and wrote all over your walls with blood. And died shortly. Now you're chilling in the cryptid world. Thoughts?

3. Do you have any fic ideas that you really enjoy but don't even try to fulfil because you know you won't be able to? Share 'em!

4. How would YOU like to mess up my story if you got the chance to enter it? Yk how I interact with the Fault characters but in reverse. Go on, cause chaos.

5. Would you actually be interested in me ranting about TTLO? Not in asks, of course, just in general? °👉👈°

Philza.

There’s an old man who lives at the edge of town. Been there far longer than you or me, and some say our grandparents could claim the same, and so could theirs. His smile is meltingly warm, but something ain’t right. Might be the look in his eyes, distant, like he’s lookin at a memory instead of you. Might be the crows that always circle over head, like they know he’s already decomposing. The old man’s nice enough folk if you ever talk, but don’t ever linger too long. Not that you’ll run out of welcome; it’s the opposite you best be worrying about with that one. Every few years a kid gets too curious, gets taken underwing by the old man. He collects the oddballs, the ones who don’t quite fit in. Always young, always someone who won’t be missed. The kids who go to him look happier but…only for a little while. Hard to smile when you’re gone. Anderson was the most recent, good head on that one. He is going big places one of these days. Or was. Now his only destination is 6 feet under. And the old man? Well. There’s a young man who lives at the edge of town. Been there far longer than you or me, and some say our grandparents could claim the same, and so could theirs. 

Wilbur. 

Nobody looks the homeless in the eyes. Fingers drumming on dashboards, pinned on stoplights and passengers and mirrors and anywhere but the man on the street corner whistling for loose coins. Nobody looks the homeless in the eyes, and so no one sees when the winter hollows them out to something hopeless. No one sees when starvation claws out everything inside until all that’s left is hunger, hunger, hunger. No one sees when life leaves those eyes. No one sees. Today there was a new stranger in town. It doesn’t draw more than glances despite being a head taller than the crowd. No one can bear to look the new stranger in the eyes. Maybe he doesn’t have any. But the town does notice when people begin to go missing, if only because these ones were important enough for their deaths to matter. The new stranger doesn’t beg like the others do. He doesn’t need to. The new stranger whistles a jaunty tune as it drifts in and out of so-called society, its lips stained with blood. 

The Blade. 

A good soldier never falters, never loses, never ceases. They say he was the best soldier, once. The war was a brutal one, long and cruel. Maybe there was honor in it, maybe there wasn’t. It doesn’t matter so much when there’s an enemy before you and a threat to your life. It matters even less when you’re losing. The fort was over run, the flag long since ripped down. His fellow warriors bled out in messy, unremarkable ways. Sudden, with no time to mourn or care, as if they weren’t his brothers in arms. The invading army was taking prisoners if you lay down your weapons and accepted indignity. Not for a second did he consider surrender, though there wasn’t a hope of surviving when outnumbered twenty to one. But a good soldier never falters. They say he was the best soldier, once. He did not hesitate, throwing himself at the next foe, and the next, fighting tooth and nail. One man can’t take on an army, but he tried. The soldier fought day and night. It was not an enemy that laid him low but the collapsing of his own exhausted body. Sleep claimed him once and for all. But a good soldier never loses. They say he was the best soldier, once. So he simply picked himself back up and continued until panting and soaked in viscera he alone stood in the husk of the ravaged fortress. And yet, he had not yet won. A soldier’s duty does not end with one battle. One man can’t take on a war, but he did. The soldier hunted down every last opponent, a wave of slaughter shredding through battalions until the brutal was over. But what is a soldier during peace? Nothing. Relentlessly, the soldier continues to wage war upon any and all he encounters, prowling the wilderness and waiting for the next fight. Because a good soldier never ceases. They say he was the best soldier, once. They don’t say what he is now. 

Tubbo.

You hear about Rhodes’ kid? Shame. Damn shame. Such a sweet kid, friendly. Too friendly. Got drawn in like a moth to flame with those- well, I mean cult’s strong language and I don’t want to tread on toes with whose god is right, but…mm. Bad sorts. Sweet as honey, sure, but I had a feeling in my gut it was going to break bad when the kid started hanging around at their church meetings. Should’ve opened my mouth, but you know how desperate they were for friends. You remember the news article, right? How many pieces did they find the kid in again? Somethin like four hundred thousand? Huh. Well all I’ll say -and you don’t tell Rhodes this yah hear? He don’t need no more heart break. But I don’t see how the cops figured out it was them. And- and you really can’t repeat I said this- but I could’ve sworn I saw his kid today, handing out fliers for that cult like they weren’t all arrested years ago. Hey! I know they’re dead! And yet…well. Couldn’t’ve been anyone else. Maybe it’s nothing, Mrs. Fletcher, but I saw Jasmine talkin to them, and- and has she come back from school yet? …oh. Maybe we should round up the search party. Better safe than sorry. 

Tommy. 

They had to chain the door to the water tower, though it’s far too late. Not that anybody lives in the surrounding town anymore despite all the new vacancies; they say the tap still tastes of iron. The chain is bulky and intimidating, but everyone knows it was locked before too and it didn’t save anyone. If anything it makes it a challenge, and all the threatening signs they put up after would only tempt more dares from reckless teens if the town still had those. It had to have been a dare gone wrong. Had to be. Because otherwise that meant there was someone in town who’d drag a teenager all the way up a water tower just to drown him, and nobody could handle the thought. The faucets ran red for weeks after. The health officials swore up and down it was safe despite the color. Maybe they were right. Maybe what happened after had nothing at all to do with the dead kid, but nobody really believes that. Because even if no one held that kid down thrashing and gurgling, surely there was someone to blame. Everyone, maybe. The friends who pressured him to climb up, the parents who didn’t enforce curfew, the maintenance worker who forgot to lock the facility. Each dragged out, their every flaw magnified and contorted into something intolerable. The lucky were ran out of town mottled with bruises. The justice didn’t stop there, of course. Onto the bully who must’ve driven the teen to it, the neighbor who could’ve warned the parents when he snuck out of the house, the passerby who might’ve seen them crossing the street. Fewer and fewer survived the trials, the fingers pointed at one another quick to turn into claws. It spiraled out into uncontrolled accusations, mobs descending upon any and all and soon unraveling into pure anarchy. The town ripped itself apart. Literally, viscerally. The rivers ran scarlet with their blood, staining the banks and their hands. It couldn't be helped. The town had developed a taste for blood. 

brooo your world building is so sickkkkk ahhh.

2.Yeah that’s probably how I go out tbh. I’d not be functional without the ability to write or draw. Hope someone at least copied down the bloody words otherwise that was waste of time smh. Some people just don’t appreciate the fact that the ~5 liters of blood the average person has doesn’t actually go that far. 

And God already assigned me vampire for my monstersona. But a couple years ago I had a dream about a fallen angel who was deeply in denial about it. They were a thick ring of white feathers and periodic wings covered in golden eyes that wept as they were forced to confront the fact that the human world was soon to be invaded by demons, and the forces of hell would be slaughtered. So like ideal bod am I right gamers. 

3.Not a fic, but a game. Multiple endings. Had it before SBI, but more vague notions in the years I’ve had it. Starts with Phil moving into a new house. Some clear trauma hidden, world building set up. Then teen hero Tommy stumbles into his house suffering a concussion, thinking it’s his house. Real bad off. Phil helps him out natch, ends up with a bleeding kid asleep on his couch and is just trying to cope with that. When Tommy gets better he’s freaked out and defensive and runs away immediately. But also…now he knows someone who can do stitches. And so the next time is weeks later and he’s dragging in a hissing and panicking fellow teen hero, who is far less okay with a civilian knowing they’re hurt and possibly learning their identity. Cue Phil beginning to run into more and more teen heroes and slowly earning their trust. It’s mostly about picking the right dialogue to build up rapport, though with some minigames for things like giving the kids medical aid, getting them the right presents that are helpful for either vigilante or civilian life, and making tasty food to fill their scrappy bodies and win them over. It is very, very difficult though. 

Cause like. The reason they’re all kids is because heroes kinda don’t last long enough to become adults? It’s a very gritty setting, focusing on the factors that drive kids of all different backgrounds into becoming heroes and the poor ways they cope with the pressure. With Tommy it’s like a sanctioned way to get out his anger issues and receive adoration. Techno’s dead parents were villains so he feels like he has to prove he isn’t like them bc of societal pressure. Probably in foster care, so it’ll be time consuming to try and adopt him. Tubbo was meant to be a sidekick but got shoved into the role, technically with the support of a hero agency but there’s way too much pressure to fill an adult role. It’s a toxic situation, but Tubbo is convinced he has to do this to save everyone (but himself) and the heroes have enough power to make things very difficult for Phil if he tries to help Tubbo too much. Niki is absolutely seething about the state of things, and is honestly more a vigilante because she refuses to sit back on corrupt ‘good guy’ practices. She’s homeless, but wary of any authority figures so has to warm up to consider crashing at Phil’s. Stuff like that idk its very nebulous and I’m kinda making stuff up rn. Thoughts about abusive parents, or parents that force into the good hero role in a perfectionist way (Ranboo maybe?), maybe a kid starting villainy? It’s a very extended cast thing. 

Some are way more trusting, others have bad experiences with adults, others think Phil is a civilian and so needs to shut up and be protected. Bonding scenes like helping protect a secret identity, or distracting a villain in a fight, or patching up wounds, or baking to keep up with superhero metabolisms, or giving life advice (be it for prom date or nemesis). Phil is running around herding cats and lots of the time supporting one means others might not stay safe. Also Phil in the past got like ptsd from a villain attack and so has to deal with his own problems, idk details. And also finds out his corporate job is helping the BBEG uh oh. Phil probably get kidnapped to draw out all the heroes to save him. Or, well, the ones with negative relationships are unlikely to help, making it harder for the rest to succeed. 

The endings come into play considering how many kids you’ve managed to take care of/win the trust of/get to safer situations. Some are far far harder to convince to trust Phil, or may be down but Phil’s ability to help may be limited. Essentially, the higher the relationship bars are with everyone the better the ending. Neutral or negative relationships lead to stuff like injuries or deaths, though not necessarily related to the kid with the low stats always. Cause obviously you’d care more about the kids that you went through the effort of getting their routes right. So it could be like a teammate failed to help, or they weren’t able to cohesively function as a group, or Phil hadn’t knocked in enough sense to stop being self sacrificial/more invested in taking the villain down than making sure no one’s hurt, or the kid that could’ve dragged the injured one to get healed by Phil didn’t trust him and the injured hero died without medical intervention. With better endings being very difficult since a lot of the kids have conflicting needs and you’d have to play like perfectly to get even good stats with everyone (impossible to max out everyone). But that leads to things like no one getting hurt, and progressing to getting kids with the highest stats into safer lives thereafter and more support for others.

4.I don’t know too much, but based on the world building I would try to disrupt all the folklore that the characters survive off of. Make like a youtube/podcast debunking all the myths, get hella famous, and do everything I can to disrupt the word of mouth belief that the cryptids rely on. In the human world I'm hailed as fighting disinformation. In the cryptid world I'm like thanos probably.

5.I am SO DOWN oh my God yes please.