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sleep-i-ness · 4 months ago

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Commentary of the Heart (Part 1)

Synopsis: You've been pining after Oliver Wood for months and maybe the Christmas break is finally your chance

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST | GENERAL MASTERLIST | PART 2

Oliver leant against a wall, watching the revelry with a barely touched drink in his hand and an air of lethargy hanging around him. An odd heat crept up the back of your neck as he tugged his tie loose, running a hand through his still-damp hair (and no, you were not going to think about him in the shower). You eyed him with a burgeoning sense of frustration; it was frankly unfair. No one had the right to look that good after being pummelled on the Quidditch pitch for a good few hours. Not least of all when the Dementors had made an appearance.

You thankfully had the good sense not to air these frustrations to your circle of friends, although Angelina was looking at you far too intensely for your comfort. At least Fred, George and Lee were too busy chasing down shots to pay much attention to your straying focus. You loved them, you really did, but you’d rather die than have them find out that you were pining over their captain. They had enough to tease you about without this on top of it all.

The common room was bustling with fifth years and up from every house; no one could ever say Gryffindor was a sore loser. You tilted your head as Oliver sighed, staring at his drink without taking a sip and your eyes narrowed slightly. Angelina nudged you and you jolted, whipping your head round with a guilty smile.

“Go talk to him,” she murmured, and you glanced behind her at the boys, who were far too invested in pouring out more shots to eavesdrop.

“Who?”

Angelina just gave you a look and you smiled sheepishly.

“Fine.” You took a deep breath and raised your voice slightly for the boys. “I’m just going to get myself another drink – that doesn’t consist of pure alcohol.”

“Boring!” Fred called after you in a sing-song tone and George just laughed as you stuck out your tongue in response. You wandered over to the table on the side, topping up your cup with pumpkin juice and after some deliberation, red currant rum. It wasn’t as if you were searching for the finest concoction you could muster, more just a form of a liquid courage. At the sight of the sour look on Oliver’s face, you added another dash of rum to your cup.

It didn’t look or smell horrendous, but you held your breath anyway as you swallowed it down before making your way over to him. Oliver’s brow furrowed as you walked up, coming to a stop just in front of him.

“Nice work out there today,” you smiled softly up at him.

“Thanks.” He mustered a tired smile in response, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Shouldn’t you be out on the floor drowning your sorrows with your team?” As if listening to your conversation, a loud whoop came from behind you, and you glanced over your shoulder to see Fred attempting to down a pint of Firewhisky with Lee and George cheering him on. You didn’t even want to know where he’d got that from, but you were pretty sure you’d be having to help carry him up to bed. You stifled an urge to roll your eyes as liquid dribbled down his chin and turned back to Oliver. “Or are you too busy mourning today’s loss alone? I see your shower-drowning attempt wasn’t successful,”

Oliver rolled his eyes and swirled the amber liquid in his glass, pursing his lips. “Just not quite in the mood to be getting as wasted as Fred seems to be doing.”

You shrugged. And then added with a laugh, “I can always take that drink off your hands if you’re feeling particularly responsible and sober tonight.”

“Hey,” Oliver laughed, lifting up his glass to dodge your hands, “I didn’t say that, now did I?”

You held your hands up in surrender, lips twitching. “I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t going to waste.”

He raised an eyebrow, and you beamed, blinking at him as innocently as you could muster. At his rather insistent scepticism, you dropped the act and switched tacks. “Got any Christmas plans?”

Oliver sighed. “Staying here for the vac. Apparently, I need to spend more time studying instead of on the pitch. And that’s not going to happen during termtime.”

“And it’s going to happen during the Christmas break?”

He shrugged. “Might as well try. What about you?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Not quite sure yet, probably staying here but it depends on my parents’ work. They’re abroad at the moment and the timings aren’t certain so I’m mentally preparing myself for a quiet holiday here.”

“Fred and George staying as well?”

“They’re going home, invited me along and everything, but I can’t impose myself on the Weasleys again. They were kind enough over the summer.”

Oliver nodded, taking a long swig from his glass and you withheld a laugh.

“Well, it’s nice to know you’ll be around as well,” you offered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “If you ever need a study companion, just let me know – I should probably get a head start on my O.W.L. revision considering how much free time I’ll have.”

“You’re far more forward-thinking than I was in Fifth Year.”

“Well, not all of us can rely on our superstar Quidditch abilities to get us a job after this,” you teased, noting with delight the pink tinging his ears.

“I wouldn’t say superstar-”

“Nonsense, Ollie,” Fred interrupted, slinging an arm around his shoulder, and you smirked at the slightly resigned expression on his face. “Now, come do shots with us and celebrate those absolutely beautiful saves today. Come on, you as well, trouble. You’re basically our mascot now.”

You rolled your eyes. “I swear to Merlin, Frederick Weasley, if that is another jab at my hair today, I will hex you blue.”

“Uhh,” Fred offered intelligently, eyes widening comically. “No?”

“The famous Weasley wit, ladies and gentlemen,” you spread out your arms, smirking at the stifled chuckle from Oliver at your side. Fred furrowed his brows, jutting out his lower lip as you watched him attempt to formulate some response whilst equally making sure that your hand didn’t slip any further towards your wand. He’d been on the receiving end of your jinxes before, and he did not want a repeat of the duck incident. He’d had an odd craving for bread for a good few weeks after.

Luckily for him, George swept in with a slight head shake to his brother and a glass pressed into your hands, meaning you were far too busy to pull out a wand and make good on your threat. That did not mean you lessened the glare you were giving Fred, who merely continue to pout at you and batted his eyelashes.

Fred darted off to round up the cavalry, dragging over a more-than-reluctant Alicia from where she was hiding out in the corner with a slightly dishevelled Lee and you shared a knowing look with Angelina.

“Right, fuck Hufflepuff and let’s drink to Harry’s good health!”

You whooped wholeheartedly, flushing as Oliver glanced at you, and quashed the rising embarrassment with the sting of Ogden’s Old.

You rubbed your eyes blearily as you stepped out of the Common Room, making your way down to the Hall. It was already oddly silent in the castle’s corridors, a sure sign that most students had already departed for the Christmas holidays, and you sighed. Nothing but studying and boredom awaited you over these next few weeks, and even the Christmas festivities couldn’t encourage Madame Pince to be a little laxer in the Library or Snape to smile for once. At least you could take solace in the fact that you weren’t totally alone; that was, if Oliver actually wanted to spend time with you. You weren’t going to hold your breath, but a small traitorous part of you whispered that now was your chance.

You trailed your fingers along the banister as you wandered down the staircase to the Great Hall; no need to hurry and get caught up in the rush of students leaving. Breakfast would wait for you, and besides, it wasn’t as if you’d slept in. You’d hesitate to say that nerves had woken you up early, but there was no better way of describing the butterflies swirling in your stomach.

Before you’d even managed to get down the stairs, you felt a rush of breeze before something solid collided with you and forced the air out of you. You stumbled backwards into a hard object, hands flying outwards to steady yourself. Once you’d regained your balance, you dropped George’s arm with a grateful smile and turned to Fred with a frown.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that! You’re not going to see us for a whole two weeks, how are you going to survive?” He pouted, ruffling your hair. You whacked his hand off your head with narrowed eyes and he gulped.

“Maybe I’m looking forward to some peace and quiet.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, darling.” Fred slung an arm round your shoulders, tugging you in close. “You know you’re going to miss us.”

“Mm, I think you’re probably going to be missing me more,” you teased, breaking out from under his arm to slip next to George’s side.

“Why does he get all the love? You can’t go around picking a favourite twin like that!”

“Oh, shut up, Freddie,” you sighed half-heartedly, grin tugging at the corner of your lips. “It’s only two weeks anyway.”

“Two weeks that you could be spending with us at the Burrow, though,” George interjected, and you spun round with an accusing finger outstretched.

“You’re meant to be on my side!”

George shrugged. “I didn’t realise this was a sides thing. Besides, there’s plenty of room at the Burrow; Ronnie has decided to spend his holidays here with Harry and Hermione, much to Mum’s displeasure.”

“I can’t,” you sighed. “I’ve got to catch up on the work that some evil twins have been distracting me from.”

“Boring.”

You stuck your tongue out at Fred in place of a retort and he just sniggered.

“You’re definitely sure you want to stay here?” George murmured, placing his hands on your shoulders and looking you deep in the eyes. You tilted your head at him, smile pulling at your lips at his worry.

“Yeah, promise. I’ll write you loads, and you better respond this time,” you teased.

“Worth a try,” he shrugged. “We’ll see you in two weeks, then.”

And he turned to follow his brother down the stairs and out the doors.

“Don’t miss me too much!” You called after them in a sing-song voice, and George just waved goodbye in response.

You sighed as the doors swung shut behind them with a clang. Hogwarts had never felt like such a prison. And part of you was deeply regretting not taking George up on his offer. You stared into the middle distance, hand gripping the railing, as you pursed your lips. You could already picture a Weasley Christmas, the bustle, the food, the familial affection, the laughter, and it made your chest ache just a little.

It wasn’t your parents’ fault that they’d been sent out on a work trip over Christmas; the Auror Office wasn’t known for being the most considerate of public holidays, but sometimes you wished that they worked nice normal 9-5s, home for dinner and there when you needed them.

“Everything alright?” A deep voice startled you from your little pity party and you spun round with a guilty look on your face.

“Oliver!” You cried, pressing a hand to your thudding heart. “You made me jump!”

“Yeah, you looked a little out of it there.”

You flushed. “Just… thinking.”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed slightly, and his brows furrowed, lips slightly pursed (not that you were thinking about his lips) but his gaze remained steady and unwavering, almost like he was trying to see straight through you.

And then his face relaxed into a soft smile. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“No, actually,” you were grateful for the change of topic, “I was just on my way there.”

“Care for some company?”

Your stomach turned slightly, churned up by the rise of butterflies fluttering, or more accurately, racing around but you managed an answering smile. “I’d love some.”

“Psst.” The hiss cut its way through the silence that hung over the library, just quiet enough to avoid Madame Pince’s wrath, although you could already picture the witch glancing up with a stern look on her face. You, on the other hand, stared harder at the writing on the page, hoping that maybe if you focused just a little bit more, the specifics of wand legislation would Defodio themselves into your brain, etching themselves permanently into the tissue of your memory. The letters began to blur as you reread the same line over and over again; Clause Three of the 1631 Code of Wand Use is also known as the ‘Wand Ban’, stating that ‘No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand… Of course, you understood why History of Magic was important; not repeating the same mistakes, learning from our past, blah blah, but it had to be the dullest thing imaginable. And Professor Binns didn’t exactly help with that.

“Psst!” Your head slipped from your hand with a jolt, and you glanced up, lips twisting into a grimace as you made eye contact with Oliver from across the library. You raised an eyebrow. He grinned and tilted his head towards the door as he pushed his chair back with a screech and bundled his books into his arms. You sighed, before mirroring his actions.

He kept his pace slow until you fell into step with him, giving you a grin as you rolled your eyes.

“Revision going well then?” You murmured, shooting a look towards Madame Pince’s desk and making eye contact with the beady eyed witch.

Oliver waited until you’d gotten outside of the library to respond, holding the door open for you and shooting Madame Pince a wink as she glared at the pair of you. “You’re one to talk. You could barely keep your eyes open in there – and how many times did you reread that same page?”

You huffed, crossing your arms and refusing to make eye contact with him. He did have a point. “It’s not my fault that wand legislation is perhaps the dullest topic I have ever had the misfortune of learning about.”

“I see you’ve really chosen the exciting stuff to kick your revision off with,” he laughed and you elbowed him.

“Where are we off to then?”

Oliver tapped his chin in mock thought, and you couldn’t help the giggle that made its way out of you, accompanied by a rising flush in your cheeks. Merlin, you were obvious. Tittering like a thirteen-year-old around her crush, like everything he said or did was the funniest thing ever. It wasn’t your fault he made you laugh.

“Well, I was thinking a nice flight around the castle to clear our heads.”

A grin tugged at the corner of your lips. “You read my mind. But I’m the one casting the Impervius charm this time. Honestly, Ollie, you’d think as a Seventh Year you’d have a better grasp on charms than a Fifth Year.”

He scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish look. “Charms has never been my strong suit.”

“Well, when you can save a goal like you can, I can understand not needing to put effort into your schoolwork. Surely you’ve got your whole life planned out now.”

He gave you an odd look. “You know, sometimes I can’t tell if you’re taking the piss out of me or complimenting me.”

You blinked innocently. “…Complimenting. Just go with always complimenting.”

Oliver’s laugh burst out unexpectedly, his eyes widening in surprise, and for a moment, he paused, blinking in disbelief. His shoulders shook slightly as he attempted to choke down the laughter, a brief, almost sheepish look flitting across his face.

Christmas with Oliver was far from boring, you decided. And filled with far less work than you had hope to complete during the break, but you weren’t exactly complaining. You hadn’t really wanted to spend the holidays studying, head buried in textbooks until your vision swam and your eyes hurt.

Footsteps thudded down the corridor, gradually growing louder as they approached the empty Charms classroom you had chosen as your study spot for the afternoon (no, you were not scared to return because Madame Pince had given you such a stern look last time you had left the Library in fits of giggles.) You glanced up briefly, before shaking your head and staring back at the instructions for brewing a Polyjuice Potion.

You copied down the steps one by one:

Add 3 measures of fluxweed to the cauldron (must have been picked on a full moon).

Add 2 bundles of knotgrass to the cauldron.

And the door burst open, disturbing your peace and solitude that had lasted all of maybe half an hour, when Oliver had decided he was too antsy to keep sitting and writing notes for an afternoon. But you refused to give in and look up, you were in a rhythm now,

Stir 4 times, clockwise.

Wave your wand then let potion brew for 80 minutes (for a Pewter Cauldron. A Brass Cauldron will only require 68, and a copper one only 60.)

“Oi, Y/N.” You were unsurprised to hear Oliver panting at the door, feet scuffing on the floor as he inched closer to your desk.

“Buzz off, Oliver.”

Right.

Add 4 leeches to the cauldron.

“Please, I’m so bored and so lonely.”

You rolled your eyes with a sigh.

Add 2 scoops of lacewing flies to the mortar, crush to a fine paste, then add 2 measures of the crushed lacewings to the cauldron.

“Please, please, please.” You could almost hear the pout in Oliver’s voice, and it took all your resolve not to look up and just give in. You’d actually managed to get some work done in the time he’d been gone, and you were not going to let him stop you now.

Heat for 30 seconds on a low heat.

And then he sat on your desk. Spilling your ink pot everywhere.

“Oliver!” You shrieked as ink splattered across your beautiful, handwritten notes, hand flying up to cover your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m so sorry, hang on, Scourgify!” Oliver waved his wand rather hopelessly, darting out of reach of your hand flailing out to slap him. The ink dribbled away from your page, and you stared at the rather slapdash cleaning job.

Well, that had certainly ruined your concentration for the afternoon. You weren’t sure you could face rewriting those notes without crying.

“What do you want?” You glared at him, chewing on the inside of your lip to keep your expression stern as he stared at you with all the sadness of a kicked puppy.

“Company?” He squeaked.

You took a deep breath, slammed your textbook shut and folded your arms.

“Please, Y/N, I’m begging you. I’m so bored.”

“You’ve not even been working for the last half hour; what have you even been doing?”

Oliver looked away, mouth opening and then closing again in a rather gormless way. A little voice in your brain whispered that it was rather endearing, but you battered that thought away with ferocity. His boredom had cost you half a page of notes. Yes, they were still legible, but they weren’t pretty anymore.

“Fine,” you sighed. Giving in. “What is it? Off to the pitch again then?”

You tilted your head as you looked up at Oliver, waiting for him to answer before you followed.

“Not in this weather,” Oliver chuckled. “You’re just a soft Southerner; I’m not having you catch hypothermia.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Don’t be a prick, Ollie. There’s such thing as Impervius.”

“Well, if you’re desperate to go out into a snowstorm, I won’t be stopping you. Otherwise…”

You glanced outside at the icy blizzard, shivered involuntarily, and turned back to him. “Go on.”

“Hot chocolate from the kitchen and then back to the common room?”

“Only if you promise me a game of Wizarding Chess.” You stretched out a hand, blinking innocently as he narrowed his eyes at you.

“What’s the forfeit this time?”

The last time you and Oliver had played Wizarding Chess had been with a bottle of Firewhisky on hand and a shot for every piece lost, which had quickly derailed into a midnight jaunt to the top of the Astronomy Tower and getting a little too close for the firmly established lines of friendship between you. Not that you were sure Oliver had noticed or even remembered. If it weren’t for the secrets of Hogwarts that Fred and George had imparted on you, there was no way you would have been able to lug that man back to the Common Room without Filch or someone else stumbling across you.

“Nothing?” You shrugged, and at his penetrating gaze, offered, “Up to you?”

“Deal.” He shook your hand, and then instead of letting go, dragged you off towards that one specific pear painting. You should never have shown it to him; he’d been abusing it mercilessly recently. Not that you particularly minded the random study session snacks; they were sweet and although you were far too logical to entertain the fantastical notions that cropped up in your thoughts, one teeny tiny part of you had decided that they were his version of a declaration of love.

#oliver wood x reader #oliver wood/reader #oliver wood #george weasley #fred weasley #oliver wood x you #oliver wood/you

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soohiefan13 · 1 month ago

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MOMOKARUN (college roomies AU) (no powers AU)

headcannons muhehehh

⋆˚࿔ they're only roomies because they are (surprisingly) majoring in the same thing (these little freaks are getting PhD's in Mythology and Occultism)

⋆˚࿔ they actually got along pretty well at first! they studied together and had fun talking about their interests!

⋆˚࿔ then it was dinner time... and okarun took smth off momo's plate as a joke. she beat him up.

⋆˚࿔ despite being a certified lameo, okarun is totally an athlete. damn is this dweeb fast? he's on the uni's track team! but he practices a ton and has a bad habit of leaving his smelly running shoes in their common area. momo throws them at him when she finds them there.

⋆˚࿔ that being said, momo is MESSY in the kitchen and it drives okarun up the WALL. this girl loves to eat, and that's totally fine, but she can't wash a dish to save her life. okarun made them a chore chart and now momo feels super guilty if she doesn't pull her weight.

⋆˚࿔ momo also has her friends over all the time, and that would be okay if they didn't blast music super duper loud. it's always on okarun's nights off when he's trying to study. he doesn't say anything- just puts his headphones on and listens to radiohead or weezer or smth (he's lame)

⋆˚࿔ speaking of her friends- miko and muko totally hyped momo up to ask him if he would let her put him in gyaru (they want them to date, duh). he said yes! during the makeup sesh, they totally realized their feelings for each other and ended up going to their separate rooms and not talking for the rest of the night. (miko and muko are geeked as momo updates them on the sitch)

⋆˚࿔ the next morning, momo stayed in her room for as long as possible. she heard okarun leave for his normal morning run, so she snuck into the living room to enjoy her morning coffee. she knows his runs usually last an hour, so she popped her headphones in and watched a movie.

⋆˚࿔ whoops! okarun went out without his fitness watch to track his progress... guess he has to run back home and grab it. he comes in and sees momo cuddled on the couch in her pajamas. totally cute. "oh, good morning, miss ayase..."

⋆˚࿔ momo noticed him blushing when he greeted her. totally cute. she also saw his slightly curly bed head for the first time. totally cute! when he turned around, she noticed his toned back and arms. this guy is secretly buff, too?! TOTALLY HOT!

⋆˚࿔ ofc, okarun noticed her staring. he went back to his room to grab his watch, his face all warm. when he returned to their common area, momo was standing in the way of the front door (she was blushing too now), staring at the ground. "are you alright, miss ayase?"

⋆˚࿔ "um, if you wanna talk about what happened last night- we can! I actually really want to talk about it so how about you come sit with me before you go back." okarun did as told. at this rate, he was gonna send this poor girl into cardiac arrest.

⋆˚࿔ they totally confessed to each other and now their "study dates" are just regular dates.

⋆˚࿔BONUS!!! they decided they wanted a pet. they got this cute little white cat from the animal shelter. as soon as she got to the apartment, she ran all over the place and kept clawing up okarun. they named her turbo granny because she's super fast but she also acts like a mean old hag.

#dandadan #Dan da dan #momo ayase #ken takakura #okarun #momokarun #turbo granny #soohiefan13 #I love them so much #coping bc I finished the manga already

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ohdearlingwhathappened · 1 year ago

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A Pair Made in the Pits

TFP Megatron x Reader

Summary: A soulmate au where near everyone has the first thing their soulmate says to them marked into their wrist. What a shame Y/n's is in some unknown language. Living with this for 7.5 years, she decides to settle down in Jasper, Nevada, not knowing that being the teacher in charge of the exchange student's overall academics and wellbeing in the school would lead her to being involved with giant robots and finding her soulmate in an unconventional method.

A/n: Sorry for the long summary! This is my first published transformers fic, so please be kind. If there are any inaccuracies, feel free to message me. I hope you enjoy my story!

WC: 2099

Chapter 1: Falling Behind Pt. 1

Chap 2, Chap 3

“Miko! Miko Nakadai!” The woman briskly walks down the hall, after the young exchange student who looked back and groaned in annoyance.

“I know. I know.” As the woman comes to a stop, Miko waves her off, “My grades need work. I need to pay attention in class. I can’t keep drawing on the desks. Can I go now?”

“Very funny, young lady-”

“You’re only ten years older than me- stop calling me that.” She crosses her arms and looks away.

“Miko, you know you were supposed to come by the office to pick up some papers for your host parents.” The woman places a hand on her hip, and raises a brow expectantly, “Any reason for you to skip out on me?”

“There’s a bike.”

“A… bike.”

“Outside!” She rolls her eyes again, throwing her arms up in exasperation. “I saw it from my last class, and I wanted to draw it. It’s gonna be gone if I go to the office and get the papers. You know the desk lady talks for, like, a million years.”

“Mrs. Albert does have a penchant for talking… tell you what- why don’t you go sit on the stairs of the school and draw that bike. I’ll grab the papers and bring them out to you. Just promise to stay on the entrance stairs. Ok?”

The girl whoops and breaks out into a run, excited to be let off the hook of being subject to Mrs. Albert’s stories of her childhood. “Thank you, Y/n!!”

Y/n shakes her head, a soft smile on her lips as she watches after the Japanese girl then makes her way to the office, silently knowing she’ll now be listening to one of the aforementioned talks. The woman was sweet but goodness, she needs to join a bookclub, or something.

“Ah. Y/n, dear! I thought Miko was supposed to be collecting these?”

There, sitting behind the desk, is Mrs. Albert, smiling as brightly as the sun. Her curly gray hair frames her rounded, wrinkled face- giving her the vibe of a grandmother who is about to offer you either butterscotch or one of those little red candies wrapped in those strawberry wrappers. The older woman was just as sweet as she appeared, which made Y/n feel the slightest bit guilty when she would dread one of the long-winded stories, Mrs. Albert never fails to tell.

“Hello Mrs. Albert. I let Miko go off to draw something she saw outside. She was too excited to say no, I’m afraid.” Y/n gave an airy but clipped laugh. “I told her I would bring her the papers for her host parents.”

“You’re too easy on that girl.” Mrs. Albert teasingly chastises, “Though, I guess I can’t blame you. That girl is the first exchange student you’re in charge of, it’s no wonder you’re so lenient with her. It reminds me of how I treated my baby, Samuel. Did I ever tell you about Sammy? He was such a delightful boy. He was heartbroken when he never got his quote…” She teeters off, the solemn look now on her face doesn’t suit her. Y/n had heard this story before, but it isn’t often that it comes up, nor is it often for ‘Sammy’ to be brought up at all. Not that it isn’t understandable as to why.

Quotes- a subject Y/n always loathes hearing about.

The thing about everyone’s quotes is that they link people to each other- your other half, according to many. Most people receive their quotes sometime at 18 years old, a few will get them younger, and even fewer never get them at all. Many times, if a person does not receive their quote, they don’t live for much longer- whether it be due to the societal pressures that they failed to meet, due to no fault of their own; or they have some kind of accident. Long story short, if you don’t get your mark by your 19th birthday, you spend the rest of that year mourning and wondering what will become of you. Not to say everyone without a quote dies, but they are a particularly rare find, that’s for sure.

On top of that source of dread, each quote comes in the native language of wherever your partner is from, so once people get their quote, they are either thrilled and/or they hit the books to understand their other half’s language. Meaning that with the gibberish printed on Y/n’s arm, she’s cursed with the unknown regarding some so-called soulmate.

“I’m sorry, dear. I shouldn’t mention quotes. I know you don’t like talking about them.” Mrs. Albert looks at her, a level of pity swimming in those big, brown eyes behind those glasses she adorns. She pats Y/n’s hand comfortingly, looking at the long sleeves she wears, even in the midst of September in the middle of Jasper, Nevada.

“Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Albert. I’ve been living with my quote for about 7 and a half years now. I’m ok.” Y/n smiles, knowing she didn’t mean any harm. “...About those papers?”

“Oh! Oh, yes. Let me grab those for you, dear.” She jumps up and walks over to one of her filing cabinets and quickly snags one of the multiple files out and hands it over. How she keeps track of where all of those papers are is baffling, but Y/n supposes the years of practice have definitely helped. “Here you are.”

“Thank you.” Y/n keeps up her smile and nods at the older woman. “You have a great rest of your afternoon, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Have a good night, Y/n. And be careful- I’ve heard that those street racers have been causing more trouble recently.” She calls out as the young woman leaves the office.

“I will!”

As she closes the door to the office, the smile on Y/n’s face slowly fades and she takes a deep breath, trying to brush off the snaring emotions surrounding her quote. After another breath, the woman rights herself and begins making her way down the hall, Y/n sifting through the papers in the manila folder, ensuring all of the papers are there. Her progress report and reviews from her teachers didn’t spell out anything good even so early into the year. All subjects but art, music, and english were less than adequate.

I’m going to have to talk to her about her grades again.

“Alright, Miko, I have your papers fo- Miko?” Exiting the front doors, Y/n looks around for her student, only to find her running off down the sidewalk. “Miko!” She takes off after her, cursing herself for not working out more.

This girl is gonna kill me.

Miko finally stops to peek around a corner, and the woman slows to a stop and leans against her own knees, heavy breathing covering up any sounds around her. After a moment of steadying her breath, she looks to the girl on her left, irritated, “Miko, I told you to stay on-”

“Shhh!!”

“You did not just shush me, young lady.” Miko gestures to whatever is so important that she ran over for, revealing a giant robot and a boy. A very familiar boy. “Jack Darby! You get away from that thing this instant!” Y/n yells, making both the teen and robot jump and look to her and Miko’s direction. She runs up to the boy, looking him over for any possible injuries, and pulls him behind her next to Miko.

“What?! He should totally go with!” Miko looks at Y/n, who keeps her eyes on the visibly bothered robot, like she’s crazy, and argues that he should do the opposite.

“Absolutely not! We don’t know what that thing even is!”

“Scrap.” The blue robot looks to Jack and then to the other two, standing up from her previously kneeling position when she had been speaking with the teenage boy, her tone obviously exasperated, “I have to bring all of you with me.”

“Excuse me? I am not going anywhere, and neither are these children. You wanna abduct someone for whatever wacky robot thing you have going on? You leave these children out of it.” Y/n crosses her arms, looking up at the blue and pink being before her, not willing to step down- much to the distaste of said robot.

“I don’t have time for this-” The bot raised her hand to the side of her head with quite possibly one of the most bothered expressions Y/n had ever seen on a human or anything else. “Bee, you need to come back… the kid is fine, but we’ve run into a couple of issues.”

“Did you not hear me? You can’t just-”

“Oh, I heard you, but I can and I will.” Apparently done with what Y/n can only assume was some kind of phone call- that or this was not only a giant robot but a crazy one at that. “I have orders and you’re now part of those orders because you were nosy.”

“We’ll act like we never saw you, not that anyone in their right mind would believe any of us if we told them we saw a giant robot lady that wanted to- what? Take us to some government facility and lock us away because of seeing whatever kind of prototype you are?” Y/n argues back, left hand on her hip and her right pointing up at the mech accusingly, to which the mechanical woman’s jaw falls agape before screwing up, insulted.

“We weren’t made by humans, and you are wasting my time. I have better things to do rather than argue with some woman who’s putting a hitch in today’s plans.”

“Oh, well I’m so-”

A yellow Urbana 500 with black racing stripes drives up behind Miko and Y/n and revs the engine, making the woman jump and the teen whirl around, excited to see yet another possible robot. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Y/n weighs her options. If she tries to take the children with her, it is possible these robots, while they may not have shown any aggressive or violent responses, it couldn’t be confirmed that they wouldn’t, if there was any opposition. The safest option was, unfortunately, to go with the kids and keep them as safe as possible. No matter how much she didn’t like this.

“Ok… alright.” Another deep breath in and out. The kids are what’s important right now. “We’ll come with you, but these kids stay as safe as possible.”

“That was the plan.” The dead tone rings through the alleyway, continuing to irk the only other adult present, but before Y/n could say anything, the metal woman transformed into a motorcycle, having Jack move around her, reluctantly getting on and Miko enthusiastically hops on with absolutely no hesitation. “Get in Bee, and we’ll meet you back at base.”

And then they were gone, leaving Y/n frustrated and clenching her fists with the other vehicle behind her, probably another transforming thing- hopefully with less attitude. Grumbling about the behavior of not only the bot, but the reckless behavior of the children as well, she turns around and awkwardly half-smiles at the yellow and black car- all of the frustration draining out of her.

“I don’t suppose there’s a person in there whose, like, codename is Bee, is there?” The bright lights of the car flick on and off a couple of times before the right side backdoor opens, confirming her fear. Letting out a quiet groan, Y/n walks to the awkward door, hoping there is a human ‘at base’ to help explain what the hell is going on. Getting in, she looks at the empty driver’s seat, then notices hair sticking ever so slightly above the passenger seat. “Oh, thank god. Another person. What is going- How many children exactly are you lot abducting?!”

A series of beeping, whirring, and whistling is the only response Y/n receives from the car’s radio as said child shyly smiles up at her. “Hello. Bee says we aren’t being taken, but someone named Optimus needs to see us after what happened yesterday.”

A moment’s pause settles over the car before Y/n leans back in her seat, rubbing her hands across her face, the car finally beginning to move and quickly pick up speed, “What exactly happened yesterday?”

“Um…”

I would much rather be listening to one of Mrs. Albert’s stories right now.

#slow burn #transformers #fem reader #afab reader #x reader #megatron x reader #tfp megatron #tfp megatron x reader #this is going to be an angst heavy series #I'm sorry in advance #this chapter is part of a sort of introduction to this series #soulmate au #it's gonna be angsty folks #future angst #fanfic writing #transformers x reader #a pair made in the pits

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dood-itsradical · 2 months ago

Text

Prediction.

Pairing: Jichang Kwak x F!Reader, ft. Jihan & Jibeom.

Summary: After hearing the whereabouts of the fallen, you reached out to Jichang in Chungcheong only to find the journey is harder than expected.

Genre/Trope: fluff, slow fucking burn.

Details: 2k words, reader smokes.

A/n: I hv to revisit the chaps I might get some stuff wrong here but oh well 😭 Also this turned out longer than planned. I don't do requests btw.

Masterlist

You were lucky. Very lucky perhaps.

Now you weren't one of the kings but you're still somewhat a big of a deal. And James Lee not whooping your ass yet is considered a good thing, for now.

Are you scared? Hardly. But are you cautious? Paranoid? That's another thing. Being selfless has its perks. You lived your life caring about yourself. Like the 'fuck it, we ball' kinda selfish. People grew, that's normal. You're used to everyone coming and going. But boy you'd be lying if you say you didn't feel any regret after not listening to your mother. After letting Jichang out of your grasp.

Although you keep telling yourself the man is out of your league. Or that he already has tons of admirers waiting in line. It's what you kept telling her but no, ‘true love comes within’ and yada yada all that crap. News flash, woman. Every mom says that and not every mother is right. ‘Oh, you just gotta trust the process. Chase him. Eventually it's worth it.’ You mocked her words in your head, rolling your eyes as a cherry on top. And every time you tried to make your points with her, she just gotta keep yapping and yapping and yapping.

You swear that you aren't a bad child. Typically you proved that right. But when it comes to cupid, what are the odds? Like everyone else you knew, love is foreign. A tool of weakness. Both good and bad in a way. Putting your priorities on maintaining control towards it is a chore, a complete dilemma. It's picking sides, a gamble and it's unfair. To know what to protect, what to sacrifice. However the answer is always the latter.

“We're here, ma'am.” The cab pulled over as you thanked him and paid him accordingly before stepping out.

Now you didn't completely live under the rock to be so cringeful of the countryside. It's peaceful despite the aesthetic. Part of you wishes you could live here and disconnect yourself from the burdens. Now that's selfish. But shaking the intrusive thoughts off of you, you recalled the purpose of your journey here. It shouldn't be so hard, right? It's a small village. Just homie friendly villa-

“Moo!” You yelped, taking a step back from the cow passing. “Careful. He's a bit moody today.” Chuckled an elderly man wearing a green vest.

You nodded sheepishly, “Sorry about that.” Your eyes roamed at the grey hair man.

“Visiting or a tourist?” You blinked, “Pardon?” Not that you didn't catch that, your mind just went elsewhere before being able to answer, “Oh, visiting. Is there any chance where I can find Jichang Kwak?”

The man paused and hummed, “Are you his friend?”

Sighing in relief, your hope increased. “Yes, an old friend to be precise! I need to see him. It's urgent.”

He squinted his eyes, uttering before turning his back on you and continued to walk with the cow. “Nope. Don't know him.”

You stammered and almost tripped on your foot. “Huh?? Wait, wait!” Your hand hangs in the air in disbelief as he leaves casually. For an old man he surely walked fast. Or your heads playing tricks on you again. “Great.” You sighed, taking in your surroundings. Thinking the world has already given you the next side quest. You don't feel so, you know so.

So picking up your feet, you did whatever you could to find Jichang. Again, how hard can it be? You asked yourself for the fifth time after seeing all green.

The thought nearly made you flabbergasted. You wouldn't think he would actually, literally hide himself after the recent fiasco with the King of Seoul. Jichang wasn't that type. Unless the matter was critical. Now you feel guilty. You wish you could've done something. But knowing him, he wouldn't let you or better yet lie to your face. Typical. You knew him enough to predict this.

Luckily you've planned ahead. You knew this quest is going to take you longer than it is and it's currently afternoon in the brought daylight. God, you loooove the sun. Being fried under it like the chickens are. Cool, now you're craving. Besides chicken, hope is not yet lost when you find yourself facing a police station. So you jogged towards it with the expectation of receiving leads.

And once you confirmed that God is still on your side, you praised Him when the officers gave you the information that Jichang's body still lingers in Chungcheong. Now, that you put it that way, it sounded wrong. But whatever, you are a bit peeved right now.

You tell the officers about your objective and they nodded with acknowledgement. ��Yeah, he's on patrol. It shouldn't be hard to look for him. This village is small.”

Wouldn't be too hard, my ass. You've been looking for two hours now and your legs are killing you. But you kept your annoyance to yourself and thanked them on your way out. Atlas, your forced your patience to take over your body. Or whatever the fuck Gongseob the monk has taught you.

“You guys must've known something, right? Yes, I just bought these shoes. No, not food, sorry.” You jerked your toes to shoo away the chickens. It's been another hour, and still no sign of the White Viper. You're going insane.

Seriously, just how hard can this be? It's getting ridiculous.

“Hey, lady. Are you lost?”

You turned to see a young man. Probably around his late teens. Although based on his build could be mistaken as older. You stood up, brushing your dusty hands. “Uh, why you ask?”

The boy seems unamused, “I kept seeing you going back and forth. Thought you might need help.” Ah, another opportunity. Why not? So you agreed, “Actually, yeah.” Walking closer to him now you managed to calculate his height and facial features. Not to mention the unmistakable snake eyes. This is when you realised.

“Jihan?” You blinked.

He blinked back, just as confused. “Sorry, have we met?” You shifted slightly, “Well, never personally.” You begin to feel your luck rising. Again.

“Jihan, I'm (Name). Maybe you never heard of me but-”

“Oh.” He blurted out flatly. ‘Oh?’ “You're looking for Jichang then. Yeah, don't know where he is. Don't care also.”

What the fuck is wrong with this village?

You waved your hands, “Wait, wait, wait. No. Listen, I really need to see him. I've been at it for hours and the least you could give me is a freakin’ break. Please.” You begged. The hell with it. If you managed to even stumble upon the little brother, you definitely can with him. The youngster just rolled his eyes before gestured you to follow him. Fucking finally you can put a rest to your mission. Just a little more.

“(Name) noona! Long time no see.” Jibeom beamed as Jihan and you walked to a reserved place. The younger brother gave the middle a weird face. “You met her before?”

Raising your brow at this particular discovery you decided to humour them, “Does he really? I doubt he's all talk. We’re hardly that close.” Oh, so now you're down-playing your situation. You weren't sure if it's embarrassment. Are you and Jichang close? To him at least you think not. Maybe you're just another person to him like Taesoo and others.

“No.” The respond made Jihan scoffed. Jibeom added, “Hyung just talks about her a lot, remember?” Another scoff came from Jihan. The younger never felt more ridiculed but he spared no comment. Your eyes shifted between the two as you observed their small banter.

The slight somber on your look was soon noticed by the brothers as they changed looks. Jihan then spoke, sighing to himself. “Yeesh. You people always act like breakups are the end of the world.”

Jibeom nodded chimbly, “I'm sure whatever the reason was, hyung won't blame you for it, noona.”

Kids. Freaking kids.

You stood there, rubbing your temple like the elder you are. Despite their false assumptions regarding your relationship with their older brother, you're too tired to deny them. You just want to see Jichang to clear things up with him. That's it. Just to see him, ask about his wellbeing and leave. Simple and done. Yet again you couldn't even get to see the tip of his nose anywhere. And it's already getting dark.

Another hour passed as you made yourself at home while the brothers, Jibeom mostly, gladly served you a cup of hot water. You strike a conversation with him since he seems to be more outgoing than Jihan. No one's at fault here. You can already assume he and Jichang have complicated relationships. Jibeom later then confirmed this as you two chatted. The topic afterwards followed by Jichang's banishment after the mention of James Lee. You scoffed whenever that name came out. You are never fond of him. He was just one cocky kid last time you saw him, who then made a name out of himself. The story tells it all. Eventually you excused yourself to take some fresh air.

No stars were in sight when you looked up at the dark blue-ish sky. But hell, you'll wait as long as you get to see that smartass. Soon after, the feeling of paranoia succumbed once more. Your hands fidgeted before digging for the cigar in your pocket. You swore you have quit. At least, you're in that process. But you promised to yourself that just this once, you needed it.

Flickering the lighter couple times, you clicked your tongue with frustration at the lack of fire. “Ssibal…”

“Here.” A second lighter hovered to your cigar, lightening it up. You took a drag before exhaling with pure relief. You turned to thank the person and lo and behold, the man himself stood upon you.

You practically jumped and coughed violently, nearly stumbled on your own feet at his sudden present. Jichang grimaced, his hand extended to rub your back hoping to ease the fit. Your chest and throat continuously punched you in the gut. His self summoned did a number on you and completely took you by surprise. Once your cough has subsided, you gather your thoughts and fix your composure.

“Is that what I have to do all along to get you here? Smoke?” You exhaled in disbelief. His snake eyes meet yours with a mixture of confusion and amusement. The corner of his lips curled. “Jihan told me you came.”

“And it took you what? Five minutes drive?” You scoffed, gaze darting behind him to his police motorbike then back at him. “I’ve been looking for you for a whole goddamn day.” He sighed, shoulders slumped apologetically.

You both settle down somewhere later on to have a proper conversation. You told him what you heard and in exchange he told you his side of the story. Every part was put in place since he had nothing to keep from you for you have every right to know his whereabouts. He subtly thanked you for your concern and effort to confront him face to face.

As an addition you told him about the first person you stumbled for direction once you stepped in the countryside. After describing the old man to Jichang, he broke down it to you that the man was Bakgu Noh who's in fact a friend that helped him got the job as a cop in the first place and was only lie to you with the purpose of watching his back. You were baffled but let it slide.

You traced the scar on his left hand that was caused by the King of Seoul. “That easy?” The look of bewilderment written on your face. “I’m just glad you're fine.” Unknowingly to you, his snake eyes never leave your face. Examining your expression with your skin on his. It wasn't that deep, but the warmth speaks volume. Being this close to you hits nostalgia.

You felt the stare though, but you didn't react. Instead, turning your head to the opposite side sheepishly. Your hand still under his calloused ones.

Breaking the palpable tension, you changed the topic, “Should I be worried?” You meant that as a joke. You aren't afraid to face one guy. But the waiting sucked.

“I can train you. If you want.” He suggested out of the blue, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb as an assurance. One simple action alone was enough to make your heart throb. You shake your head. “I'm not here for that.”

“But you're here now. Might as well get to it. No pressure.” He replied, turning his head fully to you, you could practically feel his breath on you too. Too tough to admit you're whipped, you refuse to surrender to your mother's ultimate prediction. Taking a quick glance at him you turned back to the front, swallowing your lumps.

“It's fine, really.” You brushed him off, “I only came here as a one day trip.” He nodded back and didn't argue further. After relishing the comfortable silence, you two rose from your seats and headed back.

From afar the brothers make up both of your silhouettes.

“That ought to be some sort of sign.” Jihan narrowed his eyes. Jibeom joined, “Are they together again?”

The younger brother grimaced, “Ya think?” Pointing the obvious intimate action between the two of you linking arms like an old couple. The middle brother smiled approvingly.

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downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles · 1 year ago

Text

Donatello's First Love—Splinter's Talk

mostly bayverse, could be 2003 if you squint hard enough. did it a little different with this one compared to the others :0 word count: 1.6k

Spanning his messy corner of the Lair, Donnie's many monitors mounted to the wall were alight with a blue glow. The same few camera feeds rotated between the locations outside of their home and other places, monitoring, and allowing surveillance to take a backseat in his mind while he worked. At his desk, he gently squeezed a pipette into the mouth of a breaker, waiting for the reaction he was looking for to occur.

"Interesting," he mumbled to himself, "I wonder what happens if I were to supercool the mixture."

He placed the substance in a tray and prepared another batch, this time, much more concentrated. There wasn't much to do around the house besides experiment with the materials he'd salvaged. That was fine; he enjoyed the process, and filling notebooks—and his walls—to the brim with chemical equations, notes and mathematics that hardly anyone but he could read.

Careful with his large fingers to not drop the pipette, he sucked a few drops up from the test tube, going in to add to the mixture. He squinted, almost there. And then the startling alarm pinged on the screen next to him, making him jump and squirt the chemical on his work surface. He quickly wiped up and looked over at the computer. "'Motion detected: [y/n]'s apartment complex'," the screen read, switching camera feeds to one of the multiple tiny cameras he had set up. He only put cameras where he thought it mattered; he was paranoid about an ambush, and even more so at her place than theirs, now that she was coming and going from the Lair. The likelihood of their enemies finding out her association with them was about a fifty-seven percent chance, fifty percent too much for Donnie.

He scanned the monitor for signs of anything suspicious, but it turned out to be only a friend dropping by with a key to put a package inside, with [y/n]'s permission.

"Oh," he muttered, suddenly feeling silly. He made sure the person left her apartment—and locked it back—before quickly switching the feed. That was his one secret nobody had managed to catch him out on yet. Even so, he felt slick and a little guilty for spying. But, justifiably, they needed to know if she ever was in danger! He dismissed the notification and rotated the feeds manually. "Whoops. Sorry, [y/n]...yeah, I'll just switch that back."

He shuffled around to resume his work titrating. Except Splinter stood curiously behind the desk, eyes trained close on the monitors, and then Donnie. Donnie flinched—Splinter usually didn't come in or near his lab. In fact, none of his family normally bothered him when he had his nose in his work, because none of them understood it. Not even Leo bothered to try to get the details. The details went over their heads.

"So, Donatello, what is it you are working on?"

"Oh, Master Splinter," Donnie greeted him, glancing back to make sure the monitor was no longer on the door to her apartment. He picked up the pipette and test tube he'd knocked over before, "What is it?"

"Refer back to my last question," Splinter replied. He leaned calmly against his cane and looked all around the cluttered lab. Notes taped, tacked, even glued to walls. A whiteboard full of impossible equations, various pieces of technology in disrepair he'd picked up from trash and things going to recycling. Quite the mess, but Donnie knew where everything was. Splinter cocked his head slightly. "What disorganization," he commented.

"Disorganized to you," Donnie corrected with a smile, "but I can find anything I'm looking for—it's actually 'unorganized', implies that it never was organized. The definition of 'disorganized' suggests that something once was organized but now isn't, but I never once had this place in order," he rambled.

"Donatello," Splinter interrupted. Once his son got talking, it was hard to stop him. He just had to interject to get a word in. "What is it you are doing? You have been very unfocused lately. This is strange for you."

"Unfocused" was an understatement. With a mind already running miles per minute, he was getting caught up in his own head. Getting his work station back to a functional state, he set up his tube tray, answering, "Titrating these and writing out their chemical equations. The brain's like a muscle, gotta exercise it and stay sharp," he said. And with all that sharpness, he was only half-suspicious as to why Splinter was suddenly interested in what he was doing.

Splinter nodded. "Then I must not have seen miss [y/n]'s apartment complex on your screen. Carry on."

Donnie froze, watching Splinter out of the corner of his hazel eyes. His stomach dropped. So, it was one secret—they weren't going to understand, he was just as protective of their home, too! What if she couldn't call the police, or even them in time if someone broke in? Her apartment wasn't in a good area, Donatello already didn't like that. What if someone grabbed her? He couldn't put his mind at ease without knowing.

"I—well, this was a recent development, you see," Donatello stuttered, fidgeting with the purple wraps around his hands. He realized then how weird it all looked and panicked. He'd never meant for it to go this far; his cautionary measures just kept escalating more and more with his feelings for her. "I swear, it's just outside of her place! I would never put a camera in her apartment, that would be creepy, and way overstepping," he explained. "I told her I'd always look out for her and that she can count on me."

"Oh, I suppose it's no problem, then, since she gave you such consent," Splinter said, looking away momentarily to scratch his chin. His eyes snapped back over to his anxious son and popped a hairy brow up as he knocked the end of his cane on the floor to grab his attention further. "Is that right, Donatello?"

He wanted to go into his shell. I'm busted, this is not good. "Don't tell her! So, I, um…I didn't exactly…" The thought trailed off. He didn't need to finish that sentence for both of them to know.

"Precisely my point. Now that we have made that clear, would you like to tell me what this is really about?"

"No! I mean, I will, since you're asking, but—agh, I swear, I'm not a creep," he said. "I just wanted to make sure she'd be okay. That's it."

Splinter crossed behind his desk, slipping an arm around his son's shell. Donnie wanted to pull away. "Come with me. Let's take a walk."

He led them out of the Lair into the tunnels outside their home. They could loop around easily and end up back at the Lair, and Splinter knew Donnie was going to resist talking if the others could be around to hear. Sometimes, you must play on other people's terms, he thought, listening to the quiet drip echo as they ambled through the sewer. He figured it was time to do a little damage control, although he normally pledged not to interfere with his sons and them making their mistakes. However, he didn't want to see Donatello make a potentially hazardous one to himself.

"Now, you must understand, my son, you cannot know everything at once," Splinter said, avoiding an accusatory tone. "You have a brilliant mind, but you certainly don't tend to see the obvious."

"What do you mean, master?" Donnie questioned. The "obvious" being under any other circumstances, his actions would definitely be seen as "creepy". The notion flew right under his radar as something to worry about, as their circumstances were anything but normal.

"Of course, you are a young man, you want to watch out for the one you love," Splinter pointed out. Donnie cringed, even though he hasn't made much of an attempt to hide that fact. He was excited to explore something new, why should he have hidden thos feelings? He didn't shout them to the world. But it was well-known among their family that he'd beaten his brothers to the punch when it came to her, and no going for it was an unwritten but understood boundary. Still, this wasn't a conversation he was prepared for have tonight; his mind was still back at his lab.

"About everyone but Michelangelo has noticed you've been retreating to your lab more often recently." He chuckled. "And your antics around her are obvious, again. Loosen your grip a little. You are annoying your brothers vying for her attention."

Donnie felt a rush of embarrassment come over him. Yes, he was showy—expressive, maybe too quick to whisk her away to demonstrate his new inventions, the stuff he'd discovered. Donnie knew he could hyperfixate on and obsess over things; she was on his mind more than not. As for annoying his brother, he wasn't the strongest, but he was the smartest. He was much more eager with his staff and putting his siblings back in their lane when she was around. The electric component on his weapon came in handy for quick corrections, and goofing around.

Through all of that, he remembered having a moment of clarity when she was inspecting his computer setup one night and the camera almost flickered to hers, to which he scrambled to shut it off. Conveniently, he brushed that aside.

Donnie lifted his goggles, rubbing his face sheepishly. "I guess you're right," he admitted.

"The things you do for love," Splinter shook his head. "Be sure you do not push her away by accident. You are fortunate I had the mind to come talk to you about this before you made a mistake and a fool of yourself. Consider it a fair warning," he said as he looked over at his son, who waited quietly for him to continue, "to not overstep."

"I understand, loud and clear."

Splinter nodded in agreement, "Good. I trust you will take this advice well. You have a good heart and good intentions, Donatello, do not be clouded by your mind. Your brain is not your only quality."

"Thanks, master Splinter. I'll let up on it," Donnie relented with a small smile. He was still uncomfortable, feeling a bit dumb. He always was so caught up on making predictions, keeping everything running smoothly and safely that he didn't always consider how that worked for other people. Just because it made sense to him, didn't mean it made sense to them. Note that for later, Donatello, he reminded himself. He turned around to head back to the Lair.

Splinter stopped to take in a little sunlight from the grate above his head, stopping Donnie in his tracks. "Oh, and Donatello," he called.

"Yeah?"

Splinter assumed parental status, and Donnie knew that scolding tone all too well. "Tell her about it, or turn that damned camera off."

~wooOoOOOoooOooOooo partitionnnnnnn~

Side rant: I actually hate it when people portray Donnie (except for 2012 iterations) as shy and unconfident. He is literally the opposite in 2003 and Bayverse. Donatello is not "a little baby uwu" and I'm tired of people making him look so meek 😭

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt donatello x reader #tmnt donatello #tmnt donnie #donatello x reader #donatello #master splinter #tmnt fanfic #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #tmnt bayverse #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2003

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bangchansgirlsblog · 1 year ago

Text

My biggest regret

Chapter ten

I think it’s time I wrap this story up cause I’m bored 🙄

Anyways 600 likes or I’m quitting tumblr 👹

Muah 🩷

"Chan?" She questioned trying to squint her eyes. "Chan is that you?" The guy on the bed sat up and his face was now clearly visible. It wasn't Chan but instead it was someone that looked like him.

"Oh My God, I'm so sorry," her face went pale as the feeling of embarrassment quickly crawled up her face. If that wasn't Chan (Thank God) where was Chan?

She quickly closed the door and looked around feeling helpless. Why couldn't she find him? Where was he hiding? Was he with another girl? Her brain started to overthink. The jump scare she just received being the cause of it.

"Hey? Y/n? You okay?" A soft voice yelled over the loud music playing.

"No Hyun, I don't know where Chan is and 2/8 of the boys are really wasted, I want to go home," she frowned.

"Hey, look at me," his hand softly touched her chin and guided her face in his direction, "I'll help you yeah? No need to get worked up," he was slowly getting closer to her. His body heat radiating against her.

"Thank you so much Hyunjin. I didn't mean to spoil your fun. I'm just so tired and my head hurts-"

"You don't need to explain it, let's just look for all the boys we can spot first then when we're done we look for Chan, does that sound like a plan?"

Her brain was mushy. Not because she was drunk but because his body was right close to hers. He had his one arm wrapped around her waist while the other was holding his drink. His mouth was close by her ear and his hot breath was hitting her sensitive neck. How could she possible think straight if he was so close?

"Y-yeah...I think-" she took a step back from his towering figure and to this Hyunjin smirked because he knew what he was doing. "I think I saw Changbin and Seungmin by the Food bar, let's go get them,"

"After you princess," he gladly let her through as she directed both of them to the table with snacks and lo and behold there stood Changbin and Seungmin snacking off like usual.

The two boys looked over feeling a bit guilty but they knew they were caught, "Y/nnie! Look what they have! takis and pickles!" Changbin slurred.

"You guys are on diet for comeback season!" Hyunjin quickly smacked the snacks out of there hands.

"We just wanted takis," they both pouted,

"Awe! Hyunjin! They’re both harmless and this one time won't hurt, be nice and let them enjoy their break," she scolded the older boy who found it quite amusing.

"Fine but if the manger complains-"

"I'll whoop their ass! Go ahead boys get your snacks so I can walk you guys to the cars,"

"We're leaving already?" Seungmin sways back and forth knowing he had a lot to drink, "we just got here!"

"Yes and look at you guys, your acting like you can't control your liquor," Hyunjin jumps in defense, "and she isn't feeling well, so let's go people,"

Y/n sends Hyunjin a quick thank you glance before she makes her way to the kitchen where she finds Han bent over in the sink while Felix tried to rub his back. Well it looked like he was trying but in all honesty he wasn't doing much.

"What happened?" She asked rushing over to the two.

"Han threw up on the floor then in the sink, I'm so disgusted," Felix gags before rushing out the door.

"Aw you poor thing! Is it the alcohol making you feel this way?" He groans and shakes his head no before going in for another round. The vomit burning his throat.

Y/n's mother instincts quickly kick in as she grabbed the water bottle from the counter and started to wash him up. She hated vomit but no one else was sober enough to help her except for leeknow stumbled into the kitchen and got extremely worried once he saw it was Han.

"How can I help Y/n?" He said sobering up and washing his hands.

"Help me carry him to the car once I'm done. I can't risk him using these bathrooms because I don't know what germs are currently crawling on the surfaces," she grabbed some ice from the fridge hoping she wasnt crossing boundaries but yet again she didn't care because she didn't know the people. "Make sure he doesn't sleep leeknow or else it'll get worse, I'm going to grab I.N, Hannah and Chan so we can go,"

"Thank you so much Y/n, I owe you one,"

"No need to mention it!" She grabbed her back and the clothes she help take off of Han which were covered in vomit and made her way to the back door where she called the two younger lover birds.

"Ew, ew, ew!" Hannah gagged and she held onto the vomit clothes.

"That's what you get for leaving me!" Y/n squealed before storming away to find Chan but this time she didn't have to look because he was instead looking for her.

"Chan! Where the fuck have you been? Do you know how long I've been looking for you? Do you know what your members have been up to? I'm so mad at you right now, I cant even talk to you-"

"Hey! Woah! Calm down Y/n, what's the matter? What happened?" He looked surprised and shocked. The attack caught him off guard.

"Han started vomiting, Felix was being suffocated by girls, leeknow can barely walk, Hannah and I.N are being lover birds not even bothering to help! I feel sick and I want to go home now," tears were in here eyes as she spoke. Her body shaking from all the frustration and anger. Chan knew he couldn't talk to her in this state so instead he listened and agreed to follow her back to the cars where Everbody was.

"Y/nnie, there you are, Han says he feels hot and I don't know what to do," Hyunjin tried to grab her from Chan but Chan's arm automatically wrapped around her marking his territory. Hyunjin glared at Chan who also was glaring back.

"Han? Love can you hear me?" She spoke while ignoring the two childish boys. Her soft voice broke their little staring contest to admire her. How soft she is.

"My stomach hurts really bad," he groans, "and it's so hot,"

"Should I take you to the hospital or shall the boys take you?"

"Can you take me? Please," he begged.

"Okay, I geuss all of you are going to have to squeeze in the other cars. I'll take him to the doctor and then we'll meet you at home,"

"But you said you were tired-"

"It's okay Channie, I'll be fine. Just go home and prepare his room with warm blankets. Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah yeah," he quickly kissed her forehead and got everyone to get into the car while Y/n and Han left for the hospital. His head rested on her lap as she massaged his scalp trying to calm him down. They would stop now and again just in case he felt like throwing up or passing out.

"Food poisoning," was what the doctor said it was and once they gave him his medication and a two hour IV, saying She was tired was an understatement.

"Thank you Y/n," Han whispered as they pulled up to the house, "you barely know me but you take care of me like my mother," he giggled.

"It comes naturally and I know being sick sucks, let's just get you in bed," she slowly guided him into the house where they find all the boys (and girl) seated watching a movie. Automatically leeknow helps carry the smaller boy to his room as Y/n collapsed on the couch. So tired.

"Bed time?" Chan's body was hovering over hers. The little moan that escaped from her mouth was a response and he straight away carried her to his room where she fell asleep. Deep sleep.

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issuesntissues · 10 months ago

Text

watching a movie with 141—

Price

he’s a suspense/thriller type of guy, but also likes a good drama

despises romcoms and musicals (says they suck out the realism)

likes popcorn but doesn’t eat much of it

prone to falling asleep (he just gets really comfy)[typical peepaw behavior]

will glance at you to watch your reactions (and he’ll remember them too)

Gaz

Loves a good action flick but down for romance too

Definitely puts an arm around you regardless of what you’re watching 😳

Might skip on popcorn but he’ll always get some sort of candy

Will commentate on some things that you might not notice 👀

definitely the best person to watch a movie with out of the team tbh 😭

Soap

Loves action and comedy, anything loud with explosions & corny jokes

Horror movies make him uneasy, and he gets mad when the jump scares get him 😭

This mf loves popcorn he’s a never ending muncher, and you bet it’s getting stuck in the couch too

Will literally talk at the characters while watching, talk about how he’d feel if he was in whatever situation, make snide comments, just non stop yammering

Doesn’t fall asleep, but if he’s bored he’ll eat or get handsy 💀

Ghost

this mf loves his documentaries (nature ones are his favorite), and he loves horror movies (for obvious reasons 👀)

the quietest when it comes to movies, but he’ll let out a chuckle now and then

prefers other snacks than popcorn

if you’re really skittish during a horror movie he’ll put an arm around you (he’ll tease you about it later though)

Hates watching movies with Soap sober, but after a few drinks he can get just as loud and obnoxious as him 💀

!!BONUS!!

Konig

loves horror movies but he definitely watches sci fi and animated movies too

if he wants a horror movie, he’s getting one, no exceptions—

and if you’re begging him to turn it off bc it’s too much…he’ll make you beg for other things afterwards 💀

he loves popcorn! he always offers you some too 🫶

if he falls asleep, he’s a rock. don’t even bother trying to wake him up 😭

Keegan

loves crime and thrillers, but thinks sci-fi is cool too

quieter than ghost really 😳 he smiles at jokes

munches popcorn, finger licking the butter is his guilty pleasure

if he falls asleep you’ll never notice because he’ll stay sitting in the same position 💀

i think he’s more of an audiobook person overall tbh

Laswell

if she’s present, then the team will be watching a romcom (cue peepaw groan)

gets popcorn but she’ll have dinner and a few drinks too

her and gaz are besties during this time 👀 they get along the best

she’ll tolerate Soaps nonsense but if he starts getting too rowdy she’ll kick him out 💀

honestly has the best movie recs with epic female leads 💕

Graves

this man lives and breathes military, western, and action movies *cough* top gun mav

popcorn is a must, always gets the biggest size

gets up multiple times for random shite 🙄

bro will whoop and cheer during high intensity moments 😭

claps at the end, and will want to binge the next right after

#call of duty #headcanon #john price #keegan p russ #konig cod #kyle gaz garrick #phillip graves #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kate laswell

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saltlickmp3 · 2 months ago

Note

☕how the writers delt with river song

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP THEY DID MY GIRL SO DIRTY there are so many. good river song moments. and there are so manythat make me want to tear a strip off steven moffat like every goddamn episode with her they have to make some obnoxious sex joke or some Honey Im Home type shit & i understand this is like. A Moffat Theme & i dont always hate it but goddddd its so reductive like there is so much!!!! that could be done with her character !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! that is overshadowed by haha what if she was sexy like STOPPPPPPPPPPPP.

like silence in the library was a really good character lead in & i like her!!! as a character !!!! even the overly flirtatiousness unfortunately that would work on me but even aside from that. she is a good character let down but the sheer pull-it-out-of-your-ass writing of her backstory. like?? she could regenerate cos she was conceived in the tardis okay thats really cool much weirder stuff has happened when it comes to tardises & making babies but then WE SeE THIS FOR LIKE. ONE OR TWO EPISODES BEFORE THEYRE LIKE WHOOPS THAT DOESNT WORK ACTUALLY COS SHE'S DEAD UHHH SHE BETTER UHMM IDK SAVE TH E DOCTOR OR SOMETHING WHATEVER> COS HER ENTIRE LIFE HAS TO REVOLVE AROUND HIM. HASHTAG MARRIAGE AMIRITE like even the fact that her entire life was shaped around him isnt a Bad Idea it just feels like no one considered the tragic impies (implications) of this, & simultaneously doing amy so dirty in the process as well like??? she loses baby mels & then discovers she was her (never previously mentioned) childhood friend but then she uhhhh dies & turns into this woman you already know and them????? barely eveer mention it again???? holy shit?????????????????????? amy & river is a freaking horror story but one that the writers seem imcapable of dealing with because sOMEONE is too busy making obnoxious jokes about married life

a lot of thsi is specific to the General Vibes of the eleven era stuff as well which was in general so so weird about women & while its not like twelve or any of teh other doctors are expemt from this eleven is a massive dick to people quite a bit & a lot of this falls on river b/c he is seemingly (iirc i havent seen some of this stuff for a while though it Haunts Me) almost careless? with her? like a sort of 'welllllll she's here now so it was all okay in the end :)' sort of attitude ignoring that she went through A Fuckton Of Stuff before she was even a concious human(mostly??) being

even the husbands of river song is tragically guilty of some of that stuff like. she's seen some wild shit & she should have known it was twelve wayyyyyy way way quicker. like i understand why she didnt for plot reasons but she is in fact very intellegent like. she's allowed to show that. unfortunatley sometimes women cant be smart & have their boobs out at that same time I GUESSSSSSSSS

also the nine & river audios from earlier this year? i really like archipelago i listened to that a couple of times & i thought it was really powerful but AGAIN the writers make river So Fucking Obsessed With Romance like. you'd let it go by that point. nine had literally just proved he's the most aro guy in the universe (good for him) and shes stillllllll flirting at him. which. imo she wouldnt do anymore because, shock horror, she does actually like him as a person & values his company and you would think you would be friends wit hthe guy YOU ARE GONG TO MARRY OR WHATEVER. NOT THAT THEIR MARRIAGE WAS PARTICULARLY ROMANTIC EITHERIM GONNA BE SO REAL. obviously sex is important to her & good for her but yikes. it doesnt need to be mentioned so often.

like its the whole 'inherent tragedy of waiting for a time traveller' stuff which i do eat up every time meeting her in silence of the library & knowong that there is so much more there - VERY COMPELLING !! really good character intro augahagaauuaajaaajahhahahahhhh but nooooo her Entire Fucking Goddman Life has to revolve around being manipulated & The Doctor AS WELL AS !! the completely uncalled for ohhhh im a PSYCHOPATH ( <- unfounded & demonstrably untrue lowkey this is saneism right. thats an ableism there yes? ) thing they alllwaysssss have her say like well!! shes not !! theres 'youre talking about commiting a murder'/'no im not, i'm actually commiting a murder' which i like & is funny & she would say that and then theres teh vauge oooohhhhh im so Freaky & I Have A Gun or whatevr like augsugsaihuahahaouoauauoouauoauoauoauuo

also twelve & river had freaky t4t bi4bi aroallo sex after the end of husbands of river song but no actual dw writer is enlightened enough to see that because they have to flatten her into The Doctors Wife & she would have had a far better dynamic with 12 than with 11 (not that i'm biased) i wish they got more time togetherrrrrrrrrrr also you should listen to the bekdel test (diary of river song audio with missy)

#tldr river song is a character i love very much however she had the grave misfortune of being written in the mid 2010s by steven moffat #anyways. sorry yikes this got long im so sorry i dindt realise i had this much to say. wow #doctor who #thanks for the ask!!#this is not. very flattering of elevens era if are are emotionally attached to him you may want to skip this one <3 #jordan tag :D #river song

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stilespeters · 1 year ago

Text

Rich Girl

series masterlist

pairing: Tate Langdon x f!reader

words: 4965

summary: The wealthy kinsley family moving into the murder house leads to: Cracks forming between family members, strange occurances in the house, and the feeling of being watched all the time.

warnings: underaged drinking, hints to stalking, some cursing

taglist: @iloveneilperry

song: rich girl by daryl hall and john oates

🎶 So far gone on your own. Well you could get along if you tried to be strong. But you'll never be strong cause you're a rich girl. And you've gone too far cause you know it don't matter anyway. You can rely on the old man's money...

October 21st 2014

It was always very clear that the west coast wasn't for you, yet here you were, stuck in LA traffic on a saturday morning. You had questioned if you had done anything horrific in your life to deserve to be here right now.

Olive was sitting next to you and was playing some Mario game on his nintendo, Frank was driving while whistling the lines of the horrible music on the radio and your mother was nervous. Usually she would touch her pearl necklace continuously in state of stress, however it was packed up in her suitcase in the back. Now she was staring blankly in front of her, biting her nails. It was a habit you inherited from her as you were plucking your own cuticles. However, instead of being nervous, you were bored out of your mind.

To try and kill time you had placed your headphones on and listened to your own music, but still, Nirvana couldn’t make time go by faster. It also didn't help that strands of hair were getting painfully stuck in your headphones and earrings every time you moved.

For hours since you left the hotel it was quiet in the car, until you heard Frank gasp. The whole ride from the hotel he had looked very neutral but now he broke the silence. “Oh my god.”

Your mom got out of her trance and turned her head, making her hat bump against the window. “What is it, honey?”

“I think I forgot to grab our charger from our hotel room,” Frank seemed visibly upset and your mom stopped biting her nails.

“It’s probably somewhere in the suitcases in the back.” She tried to reassure but Frank shook his head. “No, I remember plugging in the charger and thinking to myself I should unplug it and pack it in, but I forgot.”

"It's just a charger, honey. You got a backup charger and when we arrive at the house we'll buy another one." she was quick to come to a solution but Frank shook his head. He was always one to never forget anything. Even though you were very very wealthy and could buy millions of chargers, Frank always advocated to you and your little brother to never lose an item worth of any value. Every cent was worth something and could help. The way Frank looked at money was the way a mother would look at a newborn child.

"Fine." He murmured and you saw one of his famous frowns appear on his face whenever he was upset. He looked like a child really. Every time something like this happens he sulks in a corner and desperately tries to push the annoying feeling away for the sake of looking tough, however, deep inside he was boiling.

He gave a small smack on the side of the wheel and cursed.

“Shit.”

Before he could say anything else, your mother gave him a soft smack on the shoulder. “Don’t swear in front of Oliver. He doesn't need to hear that filth.”

Frank’s eyes widened and he said “whoops” before giving a guilty look at your mother. He quietly hoped Oliver didn’t hear it but once he turned his head to look at him, Oliver looked up from his Nintendo and gave him a cheeky smile. “Shit.”

Oliver always did the same thing Frank did. It was cute how he looked up to him. Your mother however wasn’t too fond of it.

“See? He’s starting to copy you. Next thing I know, he starts smoking and drinking as well. 1 version of you is enough.”

“Oh come on, Clarissa. A little swearing won’t hurt the world. It’ll make him tough like his sister. Right Y/n?” again, he looked at you with hope through the rear view mirror that you’ll back him up.

“No, I actually agree with mom.”

“Thank you, see Frank? I raised a well mannered daughter.”

You bit your nail and leaned your elbow against the window frame of the car while looking outside. “Yeah, I think it’s a very shitty thing to swear in front of Olive.”

“Very shit indeed.” Oliver answered.

Frank laughed out loud, his lost charger long forgotten and your mother facepalmed while closing her eyes. She rubbed her forehead as she leaned against the window and she looked visibly disappointed. You however, looked at your little brother and high fived him.

“One version of you,” your mom looked back and pointed at you “Is also enough.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. You then clicked on the pause button on your ipod to resume your song. Nirvana’s ‘come as you are’ was on a loop and you closed your eyes while daydreaming.

The feeling of sitting in one position for way too long made your body shiver and ache. It stung and you felt uncomfortable, but after shifting and finding a better way to sit, the vibrations managed to lull you to sleep.

Once the car came to a stop about 3 hours later, you opened your eyes.

“We’re here!” Frank said in excitement and placed a hand on your mother’s hand before exiting the vehicle. You had your ipod in hand and ‘glory box’ by Portishead was playing as you stretched your limbs.

From the moment you stepped out of the car and felt the California weather wrapped around you, you were surprised that it wasn’t that hot. Even though it was October, you expected it to feel like you were in a pit of hell. The autumn breeze however felt comfortable against your skin.

You grabbed your backpack with all the necessary stuff you needed, and grabbed your sunglasses from your pocket to shield the sunlight from your eyes. As you chewed on your bubblegum you got a view of the building in front of you.

Frank and your mom were stretching their limbs and you took a long and hard look. The building looked like it had been ripped out of a 1920s film. It was grand and had a pale reddish color. The windows were mosaic with washed out colors, but it suited the exterior well.

Frank looked in awe at the building. “Now, look at that beauty. It’s even better in person.” you cocked your head to the side and scanned the mural. “It looks…” you tried to find the right word, “Old.”

You and your best friend loved fashion styles and you were also both very interested in stylish architecture. Victorian homes were usually fascinating to you because it had so much character and history. This one in front of you however looked like one of those houses that had mold everywhere. It's probably because it had been a very long time since people lived here.

You cringed and scrunched your nose while touching your earring. "This place better have a maid."

Olive stood next to you while Frank and your mom stood behind you. Frank placed his arm around your mom’s waist and placed a hand on your shoulder. "I read online that it was built somewhere in the early 20th century." Your mom gave the boy a little squeeze of his shoulder.

“Great, so the chances are 99% that the house is haunted." you muttered and your mom gave you a sharp look.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” You gave her a smile and when she looked away, you rolled your eyes. Frank heard what you said and rubbed your shoulder. “Of course it’s not haunted, honey. You’ve seen way too many films,” the man looked at the little boy, “It’s beautiful and detailed, right Oliver?”

Oliver didn’t respond, instead he searched for your hand and clung to it. “Is this our new home?"

“It might be,” Frank walked with Marcy to the next room and squeezed Oliver’s shoulder. “Come on little man, let’s see the inside.”

Frank, Oliver and your mother were the first ones to walk towards the door and you were left behind to gaze at the window. You swore you saw movement for a split second and your eyes lingered for a moment, but after a while of staring you saw nothing. All that met your eye was the abyss behind colored tiles.

You shrugged it off and slowly made your way to the front door. Right before you stepped foot on the porch, the door opened and a strawberry blonde woman smiled brightly.

“You must be Frank and Clarissa,” she greeted and Frank shook the woman's hand. She introduced herself as Marcy and then saw you and your brother, "And you must be Y/n and Oliver." You shook her hand and smiled, showing your bright teeth, “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Marcy stepped aside and let everyone in. “It’s a classic Victorian. Built around 1920 by the doctor to the stars at the time. It’s just fabulous, these are real Tiffany fixtures. And as you can see, the owners really loved this place like a child. They restored everything.”

Oliver followed them and you were still scanning the hall. The feelings you had when you walked on the creaking wood was indescribable. It looked intriguing yet menacing for some reason.

As Marcy explained some more historic facts about the building, you got bored and decided to walk around. You didn't know where to, but your feet moved before you could think. It felt like a strong gravitational pull enchanted you and took control of your legs, and your curious eyes met a lamp in the corner of the end of the hall. To the right there was nothing to meet your eyes but the walls, yet again you swore you saw movement. You frowned but shrugged it off once again. Maybe it was just the jetlag. You really did feel tired and almost choked on your bubblegum when you fell asleep.

You whipped out your phone as you walked through the hall and you sighed exaggeratedly. You were texting your best friend about the house. However you didn't have any service and you wondered if the place had wifi. No matter, even if it would send, she didn't respond right away as she was probably asleep due to the time difference. You put away your phone and looked around.

You had seen pictures before and thought everything was gonna be smaller. You knew the way people photographed houses to make it look bigger than in reality, but this house seemed to be an exception. You had to give props to that. You had great respect for honesty and integrity.

As you were checking all of the rooms on the ground floor, you were stopped by a barking sound from your right. As you followed the sound, you looked down and saw a Chi-poo looking up at you with whale eyes. It looked at you with its head cocked to the side and you crouched down. “Where did you come from, little guy?” your voice was higher pitched and you gently grabbed the collar and read the name, “Hallie.”

Your frown faded and you smiled brightly while scratching Hallie’s head. “Aren’t you a little beauty?” You whispered and you let Hallie find a comfortable spot in your arms. The moment seemed sweet and although it was, a clicking sound of heels that was heard from behind you ruined it. You could almost hear the entitlement in that sound and you let out an inaudible sigh.

“There you are,” You looked up and saw your mother standing in the doorway. “Want to see the rest of the house, sweetie?”

Clarissa leaned against the brown cabinet on the right. You put up a smile and stood up from your spot.

“Yeah I’m coming.” You grabbed the dog and cradled it in your arms.

After you saw the kitchen, you were marveled by the space of the house in its entirety. Sure everything looked old but there was no denying the house definitely had style. The kitchen island had a sink and the dark brown wood oddly complimented the black and white tiles. From the outside it definitely looked very stale and it definitely needed a paint job, but from the inside it was much more vibrant. You appreciated all the little crevices of details in each and every room and realized you shouldn't have judged too harshly on the first look.

Once you moved to another door and opened it, you saw two big shelves against the wall and a fireplace on the right.

“This could be the music room, right honey?” Frank asked your mother and she happily nodded.

Marcy looked amused, “You’re a musician?”

Frank shook his head. “No, unfortunately I’m not musically gifted, Y/n is. She plays the piano.”

"She definitely didn't get that from me, I am tone deaf." Your mother laughed and you smiled sheepishly.

Marcy gave you a smile in return and walked a bit further towards the window. “I think the piano is such a lovely instrument, I think it will look amazing here.” She pointed at the spot near the window and Frank happily continued talking. “Y/n has been dying to get a Grand Piano. We had one years ago but sold it when we moved again. We want to buy one as soon as possible for her so she can practice again.” He placed a hand on your shoulder and gave you a proud smile as he rubbed softly, “Oliver always listened whenever she played. Y/n even taught him a song or two."

“That sounds lovely, the previous owners of the house were also musically gifted. The mother played the Cello.” Marcy continued and her face fell, “Speaking about the previous owners, full disclosure requires that I tell you what happened to them.”

You let out a soft chuckle and walked forward, causing Frank's hand to let go off your shoulder. “Let me guess, they died?”

You actually meant for it to be a joke, but Marcy nodded.

“Yes they did, actually. All three of them. The dog you’re holding is Hallie. The only one left of the Harmon family. The mother died while giving birth and the daughter and the father both committed suicide. I sold them the house too. They were just the sweetest family. You never know, I guess.”

Your face fell and your mouth opened and closed a few times as your eyebrows were raised. Before you could say anything, Frank came to your rescue. “That explains why it’s half the price of every other house in the neighborhood and why it was on sale for 3 years I guess.”

You could have guessed Frank wanted the biggest house for the least amount of money. One thing he didn't forsee was there was always a catch.

"I told you it was too good to be true." you whispered to yourself. The house market was shit, and so when Frank found this house on the listings he marveled at how much money he could save and invest if you were to move in. You were very skeptical of it and had warned him that there could be a very concerning reason as to why it was this cheap.

Murders were definitely a valid reason as to why.

Marcy continued. “I do have a very nice mid-century ranch, but it’s in the valley and you’re going to get a third of the house for twice the price.”

Your mother held the arm of Frank and seemingly didn’t care about the information about the demise of the previous tenants. “The price doesn’t really matter to us. We just need a spaceious place where there is silence and peace. I get these horrible migraines that cause insomnia and my psychiatrist recommended moving to a more quiet area.”

“And you thought you would find silence in LA?” You tried but your mother ignored your comment and continued talking to Marcy. “He prescribed me pills that could help me fall asleep and stay asleep. But still, the loudness of central New Orleans was too much.”

“Don’t worry, mrs. Kinsley. Los Angeles is not all loud and noisy. This house is in the perfect neighborhood and in the perfect shape. The sounds of anything outside are drowned out by the thick walls and even then, it’s rare for it to be busy outside. The only times when the neighborhood comes alive is on holidays,” Marcy continued. “As halloween is approaching, the peak will be on october 31st, but after that you can expect everything to be quiet. Also, the neighbors don't really tend to socialise a lot from what I've heard.”

“That sounds lovely.” your mother smiled brightly and Marcy walked away to talk with Frank about the next room that was perfect for his work. You could faintly the voice of Marcy saying the man from the previous family was a psychiatrist and you found it ironic since Frank was a psychologist. What a coincidence.

As soon as she was out of your sight, you turned to your mother and removed the smile from your face. “Okay, it might be in a good neighborhood, and everything might be all quiet or whatever. But are we really gonna gloss over the fact that a family died here? I mean, what happened to the tenants before them? Are you not concerned about that?"

“The history of the house isn't that important," she shrugged, "You didn't seem to have a problem with our old house. It's even older and also a lot of things have happened there. Probably a few murders here and there. There is a ton of history on that as well." She said as if it was the most casual thing ever. Yeah sure, it's not like murder is a crime and is very bad

"Yes, but this is a house where random people died," you whisper-shouted, "Our old house was old, yes, but it's family history. Our history. I don't mind that because it's a part of us. It's part of our family."

Your mother didn't answer that and looked at the side. She was as stubborn like you and you let out a mocking laugh. "Right, I forgot family doesn't mean anything to you, it's why you got a new shitty boyfriend Frank and decided to move to the other side of the fucking country." That made her head snap back to you and you almost missed the way her head moved to Frank and Marcy, afraid that they would hear her daughter's outburst.

"Y/n, let’s not do this now. It’s not the timing.” Your mother warned with closed teeth and but before you could protest and ask when the right time was, Oliver stood in the doorway. “Mom?”

Hallie, who had a warm spot in your arms, jumped out and ran towards the younger boy. Oliver looked surprised but happily pet the dog and Clarissa smiled as if nothing happened.

“Hey honey, what do you think of the house so far?"

“It’s very big,” Hallie licked his hand and the boy smiled, “I like it.”

Clarissa nodded in agreement and glanced at Frank and Marcy for a second before facing the two of you again. “I think it’s absolutely gorgeous. Exactly what we're looking for.”

You raised your eyebrows and crossed your arms over each other.

Olive's eyes sparkled. “Does this mean that we’ll take it?”

“I think it’s perfect," she said and she gave Olive a smile. “Your opinion matters too, of course. What do you say?” You gave your mother a side eye.

“Yes!" she then turned to look at you and waited for your approval. "And you? Y/n?" her eyes stood void of emotions and you watched Frank and Marcy in the corner of your eyes and sighed. “Why are you asking me? I know you don’t care about my opinion anyways.”

“Y/n…” Clarissa smiled through her teeth and gave you a warning look again. Hallie barked at something and ran out of Olive's arms into the hallway. Olive followed the dog and you continued the conversation you had with your mom.

"What? It's literally why you forced me to come with you. Ever since Frank came we everything changed and I'm tired of it, okay? I just... I can't. Give me a break." you exhaled deeply and rubbed your forehead.

"I will have none of this at the moment,” she repeated her standard line with a calm tone, “We both know it was for the best, and you like quiet too right? There are great schools here and I'm sure you'll make loads of new friends." She didn't know she was literally proving your point right then and there. She didn't care about your opinion. She already had her own the minute she forced you to pack your things and dragged you into the car. You were tempted to open the window and yell 'Help, I'm being kidnapped' but you knew that would only worsen things. You also didn't really felt like sitting in a police bureau sulking while your mother explained the situation.

You scoffed and crossed your arms. "LA is full of stuck up people who care only about followers and fame. I never wanted this."

Your mother rolled her eyes. "Don't act like a brat, Y/n I am so over it. Tons of girls your age dream of moving to this city in a big house like this. They would do anything to be in your position right now, to have the opportunities you have. Besides there are people like that everywhere, your old friends were exactly like that. And sweetie, don't tell me you're not like them cause you are.”

Ah, the old classic "you can't feel sad because you have it better than majority of the people on this shitty planet".

You were starting to boil.

“Just because you’re not a fan of them doesn’t mean they’re immediately conceited.” you tried to keep your voice low to avoid Olive hearing the conversation if he were to lurk somewhere nearby. He had witnessed a few outbursts a few times before and you didn't want Olive to see that as an example of good behavior.

Before the conversation truly went downhill, Marcy and Frank walked back into the room and you turned around to smile again as if nothing happened. Your mother did the same and now you realized the older you got, the more you looked like your mother.

Frank gave Clarissa a kiss on the cheek before he looked at you and asked the same question. “So, Y/n. What do you say?”

It was quiet for a few seconds before you realized that there was absolutely no way of going home anytime soon. You gave Frank one last look before giving Marcy a grin, hoping she wouldn’t notice your twitching eye.

“Does this place come with the dog?”

After Clarissa and Frank signed some papers and discussed the next plans with Marcy, it was already night time. Most of the moving boxes were in the living room and you were currently in your new bedroom. You didn't want to speak with anyone today and so you sulked while sitting on your bed.

The room wasn't all too bad, it was way smaller and darker than your previous room but oddly enough you didn't really mind. Plus, the door had a lock so that was very convenient for you. It took a little while to get the key but after a thorough search you found it lying in a cabinet.

You locked the door, closed the blinds and made sure no one could peek. You were tired from everything and you were in desperate need of some distraction. A bottle of vodka was hidden somewhere deep in one of the boxes as well as a can of cola, and you mixed the two drinks.

"At least I still have alcohol and a designer handbag." You muttered and as you sat on the chair in front of the mirror at your desk, you took a swig of the liquid.

“The blinds are see through, anyone standing in the yard can see what you're doing.”

You spat out the remaining drink and turned around to see a young, blonde man stand near the door. He had his hands in his pockets and simply blinked at you.

“What the-” you wiped the remains from your mouth. “Who are you? How did you get in here?” You saw that the door behind him was open, and you were visibly confused. You thought you locked your door.

“Also, the lock is old, you should double turn the key for it to work.”

Before you could say anything else, he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Your eyebrows were frowned and you turned around one more time to blink at the door. Once you looked back at the mirror, you saw the spatters of vodka mixed with cola painted the glass and rubbed your eyes.

What the fuck?

You stood up from your place after a few seconds and walked to your door. To test out what he said you locked the door while twisting the key once. As you pushed the door, it opened and you did the same thing again, this time you turned the key twice.

You pushed the door and it didn’t budge.

Who the fuck was he and how did he get into your house? Was he one of the movers who helped with the boxes from the truck? No that can't be possible, you scanned everyone's faces as they moved in and out, but everyone was middle aged.

So perhaps he was one of Frank's clients? You didn't really know anything about his job but it seemed very logical that clients first had to book an appointment before showing up.

Even though you were kind of freaked out, you didn't alarm anyone. Maybe that was a dumb decision, but you really didn't feel like walking downstairs to see the smug face of Frank and your mother, especially after everything that happened today.

If he was a thief, you hoped he'd steal Frank's backup charger.

If you thought the situation with the blonde boy was weird, what happened after was a lot weirder.

It was about an hour later and you had a bathroom break. You could still walk in a straight line and only felt a bit buzzed. Trying to avoid the living room where Frank and your mother were seated, you walked into the kitchen and grabbed an apple from the tray.

Walking back upstairs, you accidentally dropped the apple and cursed. However, as it rolled into the hallway, you were startled to see the apple roll back to you as though it hit an invisible wall in the middle. You grabbed your forehead, crouching down and taking the apple in your hand. How was that possible?

Looking around once or twice to see anything out of the ordinary, you struggled to clear your thoughts. Eventually you blamed it on the alcohol. Although a feeling deep inside told you that it wasn't that. You knew you weren't drunk enough to imagine this.

You didn't make a big deal out of it mainly because you always scared yourself by thinking the most random creepy things. Walking to the bathroom at night; what if someone is standing behind the corner? Sitting on the couch; what if someone's hand suddenly snatches you into a shadow realm? Every thought was so random. You did it to yourself and you didn't want to scare yourself again.

You blinked once or twice before returning your trek upstairs.

Walking through the hall to find the right door back to your room, you struggled. Having a big house meant there were more rooms, which meant that it would take a while longer to get used to finding your way. Your old house was the same, maybe even bigger. It was the perfect place for hide and seek. You could hide in a closet in one of the many rooms and it would take hours or maybe days to find you.

As you finally found your bedroom, you stopped in your tracks. You heard noise behind the door, and when you opened it, you frowned. You saw that someone unplugged your headphones from your ipod on your bed and had played a song by Daryl Hall and John Oates.

So far gone on your own. Well you could get along if you tried to be strong. But you'll never be strong cause you're a rich girl. And you've gone too far cause you know it don't matter anyway. You can rely on the old man's money...

You paused the device and walked out of your room.

“Olive!”

“Yes?”

You opened the door to his room and saw he was still on his nintendo. He didn’t look up when you stood in the doorway with your arms crossed. “You can’t just go into my room and do that shit. We need some boundaries, I value privacy."

Oliver looked up from his nintendo and looked confused. “I didn’t go into your room?”

“Very funny Olive.” Oliver had pulled pranks on you before and so you weren't buying it. "First of all, don't call me Olive, I'm a person not food, and second of all, I never stepped foot off my bed since I jumped on it. That was like an hour ago."

You were very skeptical and crossed your arms.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not, I swear!”

You narrowed your eyes before deciding to drop the subject. You didn't want to argue, especially knowing you would get a lecture from Frank about family positivity.

“Whatever.”

You walked back and looked at your ipod once again and rubbed your eyes, cursing because you wore mascara. Trying not to cry because everything frustrated you, you fell ontop of your bed and groaned in your pillow, smudging mascara on the sheets. You just simply didn't care anymore.

These were very interesting first days of your new house. Nothing really seemed to work in your favor, you hated this city, you missed everyone back at home, everything seemed to be out of the ordinary, and you didn't know if the constant feeling of being watched was because of the new house, or if it was just you being paranoid.

No matter, every feeling you held wasn't gonna last long. Because as soon as you would turn 18, you would pack your bags and leave this place. Ever since Frank came into the picture you had everything planned out. All you had to do was wait a couple of weeks and survive the constant bickering of your family members, Frank, and the weirdness of the house. You just have to hold on a little longer.

This is going to be challenging, but surviving for a bit longer can't be that hard... Right?

#evan peters #evan peters x reader #evan peters smut #evan peters x you #evan peters x y/n #evan peters x female reader #tate langdon x y/n #tate langdon x you #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon smut #tate ahs #tate and violet #tate langdon

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1427 · 11 months ago

Text

When the Levee Breaks (pt. 5)

Daryl Dixon x OFC

Story Summary: The one in which a stripper that used to know Merle and Daryl shows up at the Atlanta camp. Daryl’s feelings are complicated but mostly he hates her, right?

Chapt Setting: The Farm/Woods

Chapt Warnings: pretty explicit drug use (meth), season 2 Daryl, degrading/sexist language (he’s starting to get better lol), SOPHIA CHAPTER (I think that deserves a warning)

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Daryl’s POV story. Daryl’s starting to be less of a dick, trying really hard to make it feel organic/make it make sense in the story. Idk. This chapter was really rough to write because… it made me sad. Also have no idea if it even makes sense (the hallucination bit, really hope it does) lol ALSO; I looked up some timeline stuff and i just?? Really thought Daryl was out there for days on his own? But apparently he wasn’t? We’re just gonna say that he is in this story. 🤷🏼‍♀️ I can only do so much when the timeline of TWD is fucking stupid sometimes. (I mean it. Come for me. Idc. Rick was in a coma for 59 days without food or water???!?!!!? Bye)

masterlist

17+ mdni (no smut in this one tho sorry)

Like fiberglass in my veins, it tears through me. Mellow, at first, almost think I should rail more before I can feel myself sweatin’. Different kinda sweat, comin’ from my fuckin’ soul.

Haven’t felt like I was doin’ something ‘wrong’ since I was little. That feeling that ch’ya get when you’re doin’ somethin’ ya know you’re not s’possed to. This ain’t the first time I done spazz, but maybe it’ll be the last. The anxiety about doin’ it goes away the second I feel the devil kick me through my nose to the back of my brain. Even though I know it’s comin’, it always feels like gettin’ skullfucked by satan.

Been out here for a day. I brought Merle’s shit with me because I decided to finally get rid of it somewhere. But I got somethin’ that needs doin’. And anyway, I got years of experience with ice. Not doin’ it. Sometimes doin’ it. Never let Merle know, he’d’ve made some big whoop ‘bout it. And everytime he’d gone and done more than he remembered, he woulda blamed me. Shit though, sometimes it was.

M’not like Merle and Beatle. Ain’t an addict. Can do shit and put it down. Always been able to put it down. Figured other people could too, that they just didn’t wanna. ‘m not sure, but still kinda think that.

Never felt fuckin’ guilty about it before, though. Fuckin’ Beatle. I’unno if it’s cuz I’d be done with her if she did the same shit, or if it’s cuz I know if she knew that I was - she’d be mad at me. Mad I didn’t invite ‘er.

But this shit ain’t for fuckin’ playtime. Only reason ‘m even doin’ it i’so I can find Sophia. So I can stay awake, focus, and get ‘er back. They use ta use this shit in war. War’s the reason methamphetamines even exist. Nazi’s? Hell, every single one of ‘em in WWII. Kamikazi’s loaded up, totally fuckin’ wasted outta their minds on crystal while they bolted ‘em in. Kept ‘em awake, kept ‘em happy, kept ‘em focused on the mission. Tha’s what I gotta do.

I can’t stop lookin’ til I find ‘er. Sophia. ‘m the only one that can, only one that knows how. And anymore, ‘m the only one that seems to give a shit. ‘Sides Carol. And Beatle. She wanted ta come. Told her she’d only slow me down. Distract me. Drawn more geeks. She woulda. Told her I didn’t need food either but she packed me some anyway. Knew I wasn’t gonna be hungry. Knew I was gonna use this dumb shit to help. But whatever.

Doesn’t matter what happens to me, right? My life’s not worth nothin’, not compared to that little girl. Now that her old man’s outta the picture she actually got a chance. Maybe not mucha one, not the way shit is these days. But she got ‘er mom. And ‘er mom can actually be ‘er mom now. Not scared of some piece’a shit prick that finally got what was comin’ to ‘im.

Man fuck that guy.

The trail I’m followin’ disappears so I backtrack to the mangroves where I found her doll and try to find another one.

I start to wonder what kinda old man Beatle had. What kinda mom? Startin’ ta realize I don’t know a damn thing about Beatle. I know she likes drinkin’, she likes laughin’, she likes fuckin’ with me. But…

Beatle keeps surprisin’ me. Not just because she let me hump her face a few days ago, the fact that she liked it, shit I haven’t even had a second to process that. Nah, more cuz she hasn’t brought it up. Hasn’t tried to hold my hand again. Hasn’t been annoyin’ me nearly as much. Not even at all, if ‘m honest.

My brain’s goin’ a million miles a fuckin’ second over Beatle and what happened between us. Not just the other night, but back then. Got questions that need answerin’ but she ain’t here. Try to keep myself occupied with trackin’ but it ain’t like trackin’ takes much thinkin’. Follow every trail I pick up, but none of ‘em lead me to Sophia.

I’d prob’ly start gettin’ really frustrated about this, but that’s what crystals good for. All the dopamine I need, and nothin’s annoyin’. Focus.

✨🏹

Bent branches, wilted leaves, mud impressions, walker guts. Trees and rocks and blood and mud and dirt and greens and browns and reds and blacks. And it’s dark and it’s light and it’s dark. And it smells fuckin’ rotten. Bent branches, wilted leaves, another trail, another dead end, another undead shithead. Bent branches, wilted leaves, mud impressions, Beatle.

How many times did I go into Merle’s bag and take the devils dick up my nose? Cuz Beatle’s standin’ here right in front of me. ‘Cept she’s all done up in makeup and glitter and her pupils are the size of dimes. Little pink crop top, tiniest pair’a daisy dukes I ever seen. ‘n she’s in my face sayin’ the shit I been thinkin’ about her sayin’ since that day she said it.

“I like you, Dar.”

“You like bein’ fucked up more.” I say it like I said it the last time.

“That’s not true! I mean - I like you, Daryl.” She steps closer, tries to put her hand on my cheek before I brush her off. She slumps back a little, turning away. “You like me, too. You said it.”

My hearts in my fuckin’ throat and I’m standin’ there, this can’t be fuckin’ happening. I know is’not but doesn’t make it feel any less real. “Tha’ was before I really knew ya, Beatle.”

Hate that I said that to ‘er. Did I really say that? Cuz maybe that’s how I felt. Hell, maybe that’s how I felt last week. But it ain’t fair. I don’t know her. Still. Now. Don’t know ‘er at all. Thought I did. Thought I understood what kinda girl did those kindsa things. Is that really what I said? Fuck.

She’s still turned away from me, but I walk the half circle around to look at her face. And she’s sobbing. Silently, trying to stay as still as possible. I… I don’t remember this part. Maybe I didn’t see it? Nah, I saw it. Just didn’t care. Didn’t wanna look at ‘er. Didn’t want to hear her lame ass confession. Especially after she’d brought up that I told ‘er I liked ‘er. She sniffles and wipes her face before she pulls a bubble pipe out of the waistband of her shorts and lights the bottom, starts smokin’ it. She asks if I want a hit, like last time.

I go to say no, but the words don’t come out. Instead my hand reaches for it. I look back up and Beatle’s dressed all different. Baggy jeans and a bikini top. That night. Fuck. Shit. I don’t want to relive that night.

“I promise, I won’t tell Merle.” She says, handing me her lighter. And I smoke it. Inhaling the vapor slowly like she had. “You gotta sip at it, like it’s a coffee and you’re drinking the air to see if it’s still too hot. Roll the bowl or it will burn.” I do it the way she says. She’s like ten years younger than me, but she looks at me - talks to me like it don’t matter. Like she don’t see it that way. Guess I don’t either, never really did.

I’d never wanted to smoke it before. But that night I wanted to. With her. Woulda done anything she’d asked that night ‘fore she ruined it. I ruined it. Til it got all fucked up an’ it was never the same again. Not the way I saw her, not the way she looked at me.

I’m goin’ through memories like they’re happening all over again. Feelin’ fuckin’ sick. I don’t wanna remember this.

I hand the pipe back to her and she asks, “How do you feel?”

“Fine.”

“Just fine?” She smiles.

“Good.” I clarify.

“Good.”

Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. “I think I like you, Beatle.”

She laughs too hard, “you think?” I feel myself getting sicker and angry again all at once.

I split in half. One half feelin’ those same feelings I felt. That this conceited fuckin’ bitch really acts like everyone likes her. I hear her words and it sounds like she’s sayin’ ‘well obviously’ - but the other halfa me hears it like a real question. Like she wanted ta know what I meant. I don’t remember how I responded then, but I can hear myself say it, “Self-obsessed cunt.”

Beatle laughs, “Is that what you like about me?”

My misunderstanding continues; Thought she was pickin’ on me. Makin’ funna me. All these years. All this time. Thought she was fuckin’ laughin’ at me. Never told a girl I liked her. Not that I never did like one, just never told ‘em. Not like some teenage fuckin’ confessional. And I do and what? she just laughs.

Shit.

Cuz inside ‘m screaming. Screamin’ at myself ta say somethin’ different. To jus’ tell her. She’s special, she’s exciting, and when she smiles at the shit I say it makes me feel like I’m the only one in the fuckin’ world to her. Tha’s what she wants ta here. Tha’s why she’s askin’.

“Nah. Forget it.” She nods, and I thought she did forget it. She forgot until she brings it up again in the memory I already re-lived.

Tha’s how I was so damn sure she didn’t give a single shit about if I liked her or not. Didn’t bring it up again for months. Didn’t give a single shit about me at all. Felt stupid for ever thinkin’ she might. Just a dumb crush on a dumb girl, and I forgot everything about it. An’ every little thing she did that made me like ‘er ended up as somethin’ else I hated. And every time I saw her after that she was fucked up on somethin’. Meth or booze or weed. Usually all three.

It comes at me like a fuckin’ freight train, her lips crashing into mine, but this time I want it. Don’t wanna stop kissin’ ‘er. Instead my arms move and I push her down to the ground. She’s wearing the crop top again, can tell she’d been cryin’. She’s layin’ there in the rocks lookin’ up at me and I flash back to the living room where this happened, where she’d told me she liked me back. I wanna beat the shit outta myself for makin’ her look like that.

How didn’t I see it?

I did see it. I just didn’t care. Thought I knew what kinda girl did those kinds’a things.

Wonderin’ what kind of old man she had. What kinda boyfriends before she met me. How maybe she’s just as fuckin’ scared’a feelin’ stuff as I am. How maybe it took her months to even get up the courage to tell me after I’d told ‘er never mind and slowly started to hate her. How many’a those drinks were for courage? How many’a those hits were cuz she was nervous?

Shit.

And she’s runnin’ away like she did then. Away from me an’ outta my life until a few weeks ago. I know it ain’t real but I run after her anyway. Screamin’ her name into the open air like maybe somehow I can change it if I can get her to come back. But she’s gone and ‘m still running tryin’ to find her. Screaming for her ‘til my throats hoarse.

‘Til the walkers hear me.

✨🏹

Andrea fuckin’ shot me. What is wrong with this fuckin’ group?

✨🏹

Beatle’s in the bedroom with me but I can’t look at ‘er. Don’t wanna. Feels like she knows what I was doin’ out in them woods without ‘er. Like she can see the dirty shit in my soul and for some reason it makes me ill. Can’t look at ‘er. Knowin’ I hurt ‘er like that all that time ago. Knowin’ it now like I ain’t ever known anything else.

It’s just me ‘n her and she doesn’t try to talk to me. Just lets me lay there hatin’ myself for all of it. Didn’t even find Sophia.

Spent a lot of my days in my life hatin’ myself. Thinkin’ I was good for nothin’. Now ‘m sure of it.

I feel the bed move under the weight of her. She hugs herself around me, and like some pathetic kid I fuckin’ cry. Don’t know if she can tell or not but she tries comforting me anyway. “It’s okay, Dar. You did your best.” Her voice… how could I have ever thought it was annoying? Her bein’ so nice just makes me hate myself more.

“Lea‘me alone, Beatle.” Shakin’ her arm out from around me. She gets off the bed and sits back in the chair she’d been in. God, I fuckin’ hate myself. Wanna scream No, come back. I didn’t mean it.

Still got question’s that need answerin’. This time Beatles right here, and I ain’t got nothin’ to lose. “Why were you naked in Merle’s room?” Grateful that she’s sittin’ behind me. Don’t think I could talk to ‘er ‘bout this stuff if she was lookin’ at me. Right now? If I saw her face? Don’t think I could talk at all.

She laughs. Fuck her stupid fuckin’ laugh. “I still can’t believe you think I fucked around with Merle.”

“Why not? Y’all hung out every other day.” My voice is sharp, feels like she’s laughin’ at me again. Always feels like everyone’s laughin’ at me.

“We all hung out every other day, Dar.”

“Stop callin’ me tha’.”

“I was carpet surfing. Your dumbass brother spilled all the schkag all over the damn place.”

Oh…. But, “Ya didn’t have any clothes on.”

“I never had any clothes on, Daryl. You sure I wasn’t just wearing something ‘slutty’? You know, like you always said I was? Cuz I don’t remember, but I’ve never been naked with Merle. Ever. Sounds fuckin’ gross.”

Oh.

It made sense. Makes so much sense, ‘specially now. She keeps talkin’ an’ ‘m grateful cuz if I tried to say anything else I’d start fuckin’ cryin’ again. “I liked you, man. I…” she stops herself. Wanna beg her to keep goin’ but I can’t.

Instead I ask ‘er the only question I got left, “Why’d ya leave, then? Ya left ‘n ya never came back.”

She’s silent for a long time. “When you and Merle moved, where’d you go?”

She did come back.

“Why’d ya leave, Beatle?” Doesn’t matter where Merle and I went. She’s avoidin’ the question.

“Got sober. After that night… with you. Wanted to get sober. Wanted to…” she don’t say the rest but she don’t need to. I got it. Fuck, my heart can’t take it.

“Cuz I said ya liked gettin’ fucked up more than ya liked me.” It ain’t a question. I know.

“Think it was more the other thing you said.”

Tha’ was before I really knew ya, Beatle. I can still taste the words. “Shouldn’t’a said that to ya.” My voice is barely a whisper.

She gets back up on the bed and puts her arm around me again, this time I don’t shake her away. Her voice, so close to my ear, “I didn’t want to tell you that I came back. I didn’t want you to know that I got sober for you.”

What? “Why not?”

“Wasn’t sure you’d care. And if you did… I didn’t want you to have all the what-ifs in your head that I have in mine.”

She hugs herself into me so tight it’s hard to breathe, and she tells me, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

I feel guilty, can’t take any of that back. Can’t make any of it better. I don’t deserve this. Her. After all the nasty shit I ever thought about her. After what I did to her the other night. I can’t bring myself to tell her to leave cuz I know she wants to be here. Don’t wanna make her cry again.

So I let her hold me. Even though I don’t fuckin’ deserve it.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon imagine

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elisedonut · 7 months ago

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oooh Yeah all of that is so fair jdaskfls

They way i see it is now he can be hung up about his previous love of two people also a whole vibe of you know Twos almost a pattern that could nag at him

stepdad Percy is always so so much fun regardless of the kid in question its just so fun to me ksdajhfkds

They are at their worst love that for them

So... this is your fault. Post war Remus/Percy fic, all deaths except Remus happened and I'm still unsure if Teddy exists (opinions?) Everything is very bitter and dark. Remus is being Remus, Percy is being Percy, everyone is grieving. Excerpt (still wip, I'm not happy with it lol):

Remus looks at Percy's body and he wants to cry. He wants to cry at the weariness he carries in the way he moves, wants to cry at the smooth curve of his back, the sharp jut of his ribs, the lines painted across the skin of his thighs. He wants to cry because it mirrors his own, and he can't reconcile himself with that.

OOHH!

Lets goooo!!!

I love to be a bad influence

Also keeping Teddy around is always fun with both post war Tonks or Remus ships because it adds an extra layer to it that's fun with Remus in particular it puts him in a situation where he either has to own up to his own decisions or fall back into his same habits (aka leaving the Baby with their grandmother) Also it adds an easy thing for Percy to be helpful with since Remus doesn't seem like he has much experience with Children while Percy very much does

I'm also just weak to step parent/parent dynamics and kid-fics so I'm biased

. Remus is being Remus, Percy is being Percy

fjhksdjfhd so everything pretty much sucks then got it got it

Also oooh nice!! seeing yourself in someone else in a way you don't like is always a fun dynamic that sounds very interesting!

#Remus Lupin/Percy Weasley #percy weasley #remus lupin #Like this scenario isn't exactly the same and #tw: death #but my mom had like 3 of her bfs/exs die on her and for a good few months after the last one was convinced she was cursed #only one in like a he was murdered way though #and 2 of the three where after they entered more of a situationship then still dating dating #I know she once explained to me that in a way she'll always love the one that was stabbed because when it happened she was in love with him #and his death pretty much put a pause on it so its just always vaguely there even as she's now in her 40s #While her feelings towards the one that got hit by a train and the one that died of heatstroke are alot more like complicated #like when the heatstroke one died she was still really really pissed at him when she was told which in a way makes her feel guilty #and then when train one died it was even more complicated because that was a man whos kids she had helped raise for years #and they had a way longer of a history together since they tried to get back together after a good 10 years #uhh #well that was an infodump sorry about that #it felt relevant when I started typing it but looking at it now uh hm whoops take some Elise's mom lore ig #i know heatstrokes name was Freddie and Train was Benny because i knew both of them while they were alive #no clue on the one that was stabbed though it was when she was still a teen #Im sure mom has told me but names and me dont mix well so i am drawing a blank

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ladyloveandjustice · 9 months ago

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Hungry Kisses and No Regrets

Decided to channel my stress into finally writing the Kiki/Namari fic. This is post-series, and has slight references to unofficially translated post series material.

Namari stared into her tankard, watching the beer’s foam drop down the sides. The tavern was full of lively chatter, loud toasts, whooping and yelling…normally she would be right in the thick of it. But right now it was all distant, muffled, nothing but a meaningless buzzing.

Then a smooth voice cut through that noise. “You’ve had that booze for a whole minute and the glass is still full. Something must be wrong”.

Kiki was towering over her. Namari turned slowly, her eyes traveling up those long, shapely legs, from the perfect curve of her calves all the way up to her well toned thighs. Namari’s breath hitched and the back of her neck heated up. She focused instead on Kiki’s face, like she should have done from the beginning, but that only made her heart race more. Kiki had her hair down, a rarity, and it fell in beautiful black coils, slightly wavy at the ends. Kiki looked down at her with bright warm eyes and a mischievous smirk (she’d probably noticed Namari checking out her legs). As always, it melted all of Namari’s defenses.

“I’m just…lost in thought.”

Kiki sat across from her, resting her chin on steepled hands. “Want to talk about it?”

Weirdly, she did. When it was with Kiki, she could talk about anything.

“It’s…Falin.”

Kiki raised her eyebrows. “Did she get turned into a monster again?”

“No! It’s…well,I told you now that my father’s debt is almost paid off, I want to strike out and set up a blacksmithing business right?”

Kiki nodded.

Namari took a small sip of beer and sighed.

“Well, Falin’s recovery is taking…longer than expected. She’s having a little bit of trouble adjusting to her new body. She doesn’t have a lot of stamina and gets exhausted easily, Marcille says she’s been restless at night, growling and snarling and having weird dreams. Even Marcille has a hard time shaking her out of them. I know Falin was planning to travel, to get to know her new self and see new places, and it must be so frustrating…so I don’t think I can leave until she gets better.”

Kiki wrinkled her brow. “Why? It doesn’t sound life threatening. She has her brother and Marcille taking care of her, right? And Chilchuck and Senshi are sticking around a bit longer too. I’m sure she’ll get well soon."

“I know, but… it’s hard to see Falin like this. She’s usually so warm and full of life, you know? She could make anyone feel better just by being there. It’s easy to see why Marcille and Shuro fell for her…”

Kiki’s eyes narrowed. Was that…jealousy?

“Not that I ever had any feelings for her, I’m just saying she’s always been so strong and kind,” Namari amended hastily. “So it’s hard to see her so listless. …And I feel like I should…well, if she can’t travel right now, I shouldn’t get to go gallivanting off somewhere.”

“You’re acting like you’re responsible for her. Are you feeling guilty about leaving?”

Kiki sure cut to the quick. "I don’t regret my choice," Namari said forcefully. "I did what I had to do. But.. I wonder sometimes. If I had been there, would they have been able to get to the dragon before it digested her? Would it have saved her from going through all that hell? Seeing what happened to her, how she’s struggling now, it rattled me. I wonder if she resents me."

Namari lowered her eyes, drawing a circle in the condensation on the table with her index finger. She couldn't look st Kiki. The last thing she wanted to see was her pity.

“From the brief time I met her—and from how you all describe her—it doesn’t seem like she’d resent you.” Kiki’s voice was the same as ever, a ripple in a calm lake. Namari looked at her and saw her expression wasn’t pitying or annoyed. She just looked like she was mulling it all over.

“No…none of them seen to resent me, even Marcille. But still…Falin knows I abandoned her. She might understand and accept it, but I wonder if it hurts her, deep down…” She trailed off. She new she was being pathetic she was being pathetic,

Kiki studied Namari's face, her eyes searching

“Remember when Kaka and I told you about how our clan abandoned us at an inn when we were children?”

Namari blinked at the sudden topic change, but said, “Yes, of course”

“Kaka resents them for that. But I don’t. I’m honestly grateful.”

“Huh?” As always, Namari couldn’t figure out if Kiki was joking or not.

Kiki’s mouth quirked and she tilted her head. A bit of hair fell over her eye in a way that made Namari's heart flutter.

“I remembered how they looked, their cheeks hollowed, their eyes sunken. They were starving, yet they always tried to give Kaka and me a good meal. So I was grateful that they left us. If they hadn’t, I would have had to watch them suffer, watch them die. I hated being a burden.” Kiki’s smiled disappeared, and Namari saw her hands shake ever so slightly against the table. She wanted so badly to reach out and hold that hand, to tell her it was all okay. But she knew Kiki wouldn’t appreciate being interrupted.

Kiki breathed in deeply. “But by leaving us at the inn, they gave us a chance. A chance for something better. Because they did that, I had a chance to meet Grandma and Grandpa. And that’s what I’m the most grateful for.” Her expression softened, the warmth returning to her face.

Namari smiled. She loved how Kiki looked at even the darkest moments with love and empathy. It made her want to let go of her cynicism.

` ”So,” Kika said, tossing her hair. “If Falin’s really the person you say she is, I’m sure she feels the same way. She’s grateful that you didn’t drown in debt for her sake, she’s grateful she didn’t didn't have to see you suffer and lose everything for her. She doesn’t want to be your burden.”

Namari’s eyes burned. Falin had said something like that—“I’m so glad you were able to find such a great party to work for, Namari. You seem so happy! And you helped my brother and the rest a lot, from what I hear! Thank you!"But Namari had been sure she was just forcing her real feelings down. But hearing it from Kiki…for some reason, that made her believe it.

“And also…” Kiki leaned forward, her face so close to Namari’s that her hot breath tickled Namari’s nose. “I’m personally very grateful you left the party. Because that’s how I got to meet you. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

Namari swallowed. She was sure her face was as red as a tomato. But she wasn’t going to let that stop her. It was time to say it.

“There’s actually another reason I’ve been procrastinating on leaving. It’s…because I don’t want to leave you behind.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Kiki said casually. “I’ve decided to leave the family business and strike out on my own. And I’d love to travel with you.”

“You…what?’

“I’ve been thinking of it for a while and talking about it with the family. I told them all yesterday. I want to try new things, see what I can do on my own. Kaka’s going to stay with them, he’s never been interested leaving out grandparents. It’s going to be…really hard being separated from him. We’ve been together our whole lives. But I think that’s why I need to do this.I want to find out who I am without him. Take my own path. Grandpa and Grandma were very supportive. I’ll miss all of them, but it’s not like I can’t visit…”

All of this tumbled out of Kiki’s mouth in a rush, so it took a second for Namari to process it. But when she finally did, her heart burst with joy. Her face lit up with what she was sure was the dopiest smile, but she did her best to keep her voice even.

“Do you know what you want to do?”

“I did a short apprenticeship of a trading company when I was younger, and I loved meeting different people from all over, so maybe that. But one thing I really want to do is…be by your side at least a little bit longer.” She looked down nervously, eyelashes fluttering.

Namari reached out and took Kiki’s hand at last. It was soft and smooth, so much smaller than hers, but still strong. “I want that too,” Namari murmured. “And I also want to kiss you until you’re as dizzy as I am.”

At that invitation, Kiki threw herself across the table. She barely avoided knocking Namari’s beer over as she swung her legs around to sit on her lap. Namari put her arms around her, she bent down, and they kissed hungrily, ceaselessly, with bottomless desire. Kiki tugged at Namari's wrist and Namari gladly accepted the invitation, running her hand greedily up Kiki's thigh, feeling the strong muscle underneath, gripping it harder as their kiss deepened.

Whoops and cheers explored around them. When they finally separated, they saw several tavern patrons were watching them. And the table was a little wobbly. Oops.

“Let’s get out of here before we break something. We can do that in my bedroom instead.” Namari murmured.

“Sounds good. And if we stop by my house first, I can bring some leg pouches to put on in front of you,” Kiki teased.

“You really are the perfect woman,” Namari breathed, trembling with anticipation.

So they walked off arm and arm into the night, Namari leaving behind her worries and fears. There was no point in looking back anymore. She and Kiki had just started a new journey together.

#kikimari #namari #namari of kahka brud #kiki floke #kiki flocke #my fanfic #my writing #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #fanfic

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rise-my-angel · 1 year ago

Text

Heart of the Great Wolf

14 - Only The Cold

Paring: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader (Slow Burn), Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 15.5k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, slow burn, implied/references to rape, threats of torture and violence, graphic description of blood and gore, mentions of forced marriage/pregnancy, character death, execution, slight canon divergence

Notes: Things uh.... happen in this chapter, whoops. Any hoo, how we all feeling about Robb being put with the label of Past? Anyone's heart hurt yet? Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here.

The last time she had seen you was years ago. You had been gone for so long that she wondered if she’d even recognize you. Her mother had shouted at her multiple times to calm down, and as she travelled the edges of the walls but Shireen refused to come down until she saw you. The cliffs of Dragonstone were tall and dense, dark and jagged and made it hard to see when you didn’t know quite where to look, but she just kept wandering to find the right vantage point.

Shireen almost cried the day she got your letter that you’d be coming to visit before returning to King’s Landing. It was almost her nameday and you wanted to be there for it after missing so many. You two wrote all the time, constant ravens sent back and forth to make sure neither felt without their sister, and she almost ran down Maester Cressen trying to find her mother to tell her the good news.

By the time she saw you, Shireen ended up running towards you with no hesitation or care for her mother calling her to stop. Shouting your name, you brightened up in an instant. A smile on your face as you climbed off your horse, you knelt down as she practically jumped into your arms. Holding the other tight as you joked that she just have been busy building her strength in her spare time.

She could still recall you running your hands down both sides of her cheeks like you had been trying to memorize the differences in the time spent away. Neither of you had even returned to the castle for supper that first day, spending all your time out on the rough cliffs as you pointed to her where some of the tunnels were hiding under the rocks.

“Can we go in there? Mother would never let me if I asked her to take me.”

You had laughed, hoisting her up in your arms before placing her down onto a taller rock so her head was level in height with yours standing. “Let’s make a deal, the next time I’m here we will go exploring together. But you have to promise me you’ll keep it a secret. Some of them can be dangerous, but that’s where all the pretty ones are. Purples and reds the deeper we go.”

For a long time she was holding you to that promise. She researched all about dragonglass to make sure she could prove to you the next visit that she was prepared. Then father returned home unexpectedly, closed the Island from any outside visitors, and not long after that, was war.

Having to get used to the idea that father was King now, and that made her a princess. Shireen could live with that, but she often wondered if you were calling yourself that. What you were doing or where you were as they were all back home preparing for father to take the throne. Then she found out you were a Queen. Your husband was called the King in the North and that made you the Queen in the North, but it meant you were the enemy now.

She hated it, all of it. Father loved you, but he spoke of you like a traitor and mother often commented that you were as guilty as that “thief who manipulated her away from us.” Shireen had been caught on a bad day, yelling that it’s fathers fault you were on the other side of a war and didn’t speak to anyone for days.

She would read your letters, the last one you sent telling her you promise you’d go to the next tournament and write to her all about it. Promising that when you’d return to the North you would find a way to get Shireen to come visit. Meet your husband and the other Starks. Shireen would read it and hate that she didn’t know if you were alright.

It wasn’t fair, the last time she saw you it was so exciting, you spent your entire visit together and now you were a Northern Queen fighting a war that father was going to fight against you in. Then the letter came, and she knew something very bad had happened by the look on the Onion Knight’s face.

Now though, she was so nervous to knock on the door. Mother and father didn’t want to talk about you after everything but it wasn’t fair. They knew so much more about your life before you died and Shireen was left in the dark. First you were married, then you were a Queen, then at war with father, and then you were dead. But none of that told her anything about you that brought her comfort.

The knock was so soft Jon almost didn’t even hear it. One of the first things he realized about being Lord Commander was how much of his life was to be spent staring at numbers on a page that made him want to fall through the floor. Calling for them to come in, the last person he expected poked their head through the barley open door. “Princess,”

It made him smile a little, how adorable yet bashful the girl was. If he looked hard enough, he wondered if he would be able to see how much you and Shireen looked alike from when you were that age. She slinked in quietly before looking to the work on his desk, “I’m sorry they said not to bother you- I can leave..”

Shaking his head, he put aside some of the things in front of him. “Not a bother at all, what can I do for you?” The way she hesitated was full of a doubt, as if the little princess didn’t know if she should even bring whatever it was, up. Jon’s tone quiet as he stood, pulling a chair closer to the other side of his desk. “At least come in a little, it’s cold out.”

Nodding, she walked in as Jon looked out the door with curiosity before closing it. He didn’t imagine she was just allowed to walk around on her own, but instead of saying anything about it, he amusingly thought that perhaps helping Baratheon girls break their strict parents rules might be a pattern of his. But when your name came out of the girls mouth it made him pause, an unpleasant skip in his heart that he had to endure. Her eyes a little hazy as she wrung her hands in her lap. “You knew her, right? In Winterfell?”

“I did.” His voice felt raw, walking over to sit more in front of her. You had told him all about Shireen, the degree to which you loved her always made Jon look at you with such adoration and now that he saw her in person, it wasn’t fair it was like this. “She was a friend.”

Her eyes flickered up to him and for a second, it looked like she doubted him like the way Arya used to when he insisted the same thing to her. “I-” Looking away for a moment she glanced around the room to find any distraction but none came. Her eyes came back in a sharp look almost like an accusation, “Does anyone really believe you when you say that?”

Taken back a moment, Jon looked at her trying to see the tethers in her mind connect before admitting anything. This specific set of Baratheons served to constantly keep Jon on his toes it seemed. “I think I’d be in a lot more trouble if they didn’t.”

“When my mother first told me she had gotten married, I thought it was to you.” Jon didn’t move and neither did his heart beat or lungs breathe. But he certainly didn’t want to react as such in front of a child who clearly needed someone to just be there for her right now. “I figured it out eventually but it didn’t make sense to me. She talked about you all the time, wrote about you, and then father just tells her to marry someone else and now neither of us ever saw her again.”

Swallowing a pain in his throat, he tried leaning forward to speak gently to her, “Your sister was doing her duty, it didn’t matter what me and her might have wanted. She always did what she was supposed to do in the end.”

As she looked at Jon, it was clear he could see you in her and it made him almost feel worse. Every since their arrival, you were all Jon could see and hear. He had his own duty to do, especially now, but you haunted him now in ways you didn’t when you were alive.

“Did it hurt? Having her marry your brother?”

There was a lot on her mind, young enough as well that she seemed to jump from topic to topic without being able to find the core of what she wanted to say. But Jon suspected maybe she didn’t really have one thing to say, maybe she just wanted to talk to the one person you knew better then her or her parents.

He could see you clearly. You looked so beautiful that day, like you belonged right there only Jon watched from the wrong side and the next day that was all he would ever see of you again. “Yes, it did.” Jon didn’t know if being this honest was a good idea, but he thought Shireen needed it. “I knew her since I was ten, loved her just as long and then I watched her marry my brother. I wanted them to be happy together, I didn’t want her or Robb to be miserable but watching her marry the brother who always got everything hurt a lot.”

Some part of Jon wondered, if you had still been out there, would he say yes to being Lord of Winterfell just for a chance to see you again. But he had to give that up. He had a duty to the Night’s Watch, especially now as Lord Commander and there wasn’t even anyone out there anymore who cared if Jon returned home.

Being made a Stark wouldn’t change the fact that he spent most of his life as the bastard in the background. The North mourned Robb, not him.

“Father doesn’t like to talk about her. Used to say she was a traitor, but then Lady Melisendre would tell him that she was coming back. Would say she would return home and bring the wolves with her.” His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. There was very little Jon liked that would come out of that woman’s mouth. Made him nothing but uncomfortable. “She was supposed to come home, and I was supposed to be an aunt and now everything just feels wrong without her.”

He could see your stomach soaked in blood, and he felt sick once more. He hoped Shireen didn’t know anything about how you died. He wished he didn’t know how Robb had died and it haunted him everyday knowing that he only lost his life because his own men betrayed him. “It always does when you lose someone you love. It’ll always feel wrong without them here anymore.”

“Does it ever get better?”

With a sad half smile he ran a hand over the girl’s hair. “I’ll go to you first to let you know, when I find out myself. Now come on, let’s get you back to where you need to be.” Standing her up he gave her a look with a raised eyebrow. “Because I’m certain it isn’t supposed to be here.”

Before reaching the door Shireen turned to him, “Could..would it be okay if I hugged you?” That time Jon’s smile was much easier and more gentle towards her.

“Can’t say no to a princess, now can I?” Kneeling down to her level, it broke his heart how much she just sunk into him. Like all her energy left then and there as he ran a hand over her hair. If the weight of losing you, losing almost his entire family felt like this to him at his age he couldn’t imagine how much it hurt her. “She knew you loved her, and she loved you more then anything. Remember that.”

She may still have her parents, but he knew what losing your siblings felt like and the girl was too young to deal with all of it on her own. People like Jon, like Stannis, could handle their grief because they had a duty to do regardless of it all.

He wasn’t dealing with it particularly well, the anger inside him slowly festering to something unhealthy but now he was Lord Commander. Even if he was Lord of Winterfell, he had a duty that wasn’t mourning the dead no matter how much he wished he had the chance too.

For a moment finally on his own, he looked over the main courtyard of Castle Black. Watching your father rule, becoming a leader of his own, he wondered for a moment what you were like. He could easily imagine the kind of king Robb would’ve been. Easy to see him fall well into leadership, and as much as he told you to be happy with him, Jon still couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy.

You probably made a beautiful Queen and he wished he could’ve seen it. He too wondered, would you be proud of where he stands today? Would you see the man you loved if you could see Jon now or was he falling too angry and jaded to be worthy of that anymore. It was hard to tell.

The air was cold as snow continued to fall all around. Thick snowflakes came down heavy and hard in the night and now a chill was in the air that shivered the whole body. Still, you didn’t find the bother to dress for it. Everyone else coming to accept the cold of winter had arrived and yet you stood in the bare minimum and cared not for the freezing on your skin. Not that the Bolton’s would let you even dress warm anyways. Just something to force you weaker.

Being given some free range to walk the castle did nothing to improve your mood. Your body still screamed at you for how sore it was, and your mind wanted to plunge to it’s death at the bottom of the stone walls you were resting your forearms over. No one looked at you like you belonged here, and other then the torment of the Boltons, it was just pity you found.

Not a soul was fooled that you were anything other then a walking prisoner and yet this madness of assuming you would be the key to having a claim to the North continued. Lord Tywin Lannister had been murdered, shot with a crossbow by his own kin. With both Tyrion Lannister and Sansa separated on the run, there was no Lannister to inherit the North from the Boltons and now it laid on their feet to secure their own future.

The crown’s strength was in Tywin Lannister and now with him gone, the realm was likely a mess of no one knowing what to do, so the North was left to be subjugated in the fear of it’s new wardens and nothing to protect them. None would protect you here either. If you jumped now, none would care for your death because none other then the people here and now would even know anything changed from the last words of your spoken death.

Slowly slinking up next to you was a figure you’d been trying very hard to ignore. Since being given a tiny bit of freedom of being able to walk around parts of the castle she had appeared more and more with a watchful eye and fake sweet words that you bought for none. She had the same glint in her eyes that her lover did and you wanted no part in falling for her tricks. Myranda was the daughter of the one of the kennel masters and the one you knew was the only girl vile enough to have found something of Ramsay’s affections.

Theon seemed highly uncomfortable around her as well, and you could only imagine any part she’s played in his own suffering. So far, she had tried to manipulate you into trusting her but has grown tired to failing in that endeavour. You didn’t fall for it nor did you care too. “Don’t you look much prettier all dolled up in the snow. I wager the boys all loved going for rounds with you, didn’t they?”

Your jaw set as you continued to look out to the cold outside. Wondering how long the snow would fall like this, if soon the entirety of the North would be encased in it until you froze to death. Coming up to you, her back leaned against the stone edge as she trailed her eyes judgingly over you. “We really should spend more time with each other, I’ve heard so much about our Queen in the North but she doesn’t know me at all. Shouldn’t a good queen know her people?”

Your voice was flat as your nails dug into your palms. “I can’t be a Queen if I’m dead, so I suppose that means I have no reason to care about knowing you. We aren’t friends, and you don’t want to be either.”

Running a hand over the shoulder of your dress and down the long sleeves, she hummed to herself with a fake pout. “I’m hurt, here I thought you’re time out of those cells would’ve made you so much happier but you’re as grim as the rest of winter aren’t you?” Her gloved ones mocked the growing freezing you felt on your bare skin, threatening to turn colours if you kept them out much longer.

The sigh you let out was deep. “Did you want something Myranda, or did you just come here to annoy my peace and quiet?” The glare in her eye narrowing said she did not like that attitude one bit.

Turning to face the same way she leaned against you, one arm sliding across your lower back before pulling you into her side, her voice gratingly high pitched in your ear. “I can see why he likes you, got some bite in you after all. Of course, he bites worse but you already knew that.” The cut on your lip still dark as it was trying to heal over. “Always loves making a mess when he fucks, little servants cleaning up after our nights in for a shock. Wonder what kinds of messes he leaves with you, suppose, lots of blood I imagine. The more you fight the more he likes to see you painted with red I find.”

Your insides shuddered, trying not to think about it. Trying not to think about what kind of people the Bolton’s were in general that none close to Ramsay saw anything wrong with what he was doing. Part of you wondered if this was a form of revenge from Roose himself. Many times over you and Robb adamantly refused any mistreatment of prisoners, any torture he put forward. You had stood by Robb as he executed Rickard Karstark for murdering two teenage boys being held prisoner.

He knew what was happening, every day you would see him and as he sat next to his wide eyed wife who lived in a bubble like nothing could hurt her. You sat next to Ramsay who spent every night finding new ways to mock you, and his hands wandered to the point you couldn’t scrub hard enough later to make the feeling of his touch leave you.

The only time you could handle it, was if he made you bleed a little more then normal and your mind would jolt you back in time, back to seeing Robb raise his hand from your stomach soaked in blood, or back to the faint, distant memories of grey eyes that have now forgotten about you, and it seemed to black your mind out for long enough to keep away from what was happening. This was not the person you were supposed to be.

This wasn’t the person anyone raised you to be, or the one the people you loved, loved about you. This was a hollow shell that didn’t know how to fight back or find any reason to why you should. Soon enough winter would fall too heavily on the North and you’d be trapped here hoping that you could kill yourself before they marry you to Ramsay.

It wasn’t an honourable end, but you wouldn’t dishonour how much you and Robb loved each other by having the man after him be the monstrous son of the one who murdered him and his own unborn son. You hoped Robb and his father didn’t look at where you were now, and hate you for being so weak. Maybe it was too late, maybe they already hated you for it. Maybe the North hated your memory for letting this happen to their King.

Maybe if only you died that night, if Robb had lived, things would be okay. Things could be okay. He was a strong leader and incredibly handsome, he would’ve found a prettier wife with mocking red hair to make him far happier and they would’ve been ruling from the North by this point. You could’ve died that day and maybe none of this would have happened.

You didn’t deserve to be the one who lived, it was Robb who deserved the world and more. It was him the people chose as King, you were just a footnote in history and seeing you dangle in front of the Boltons as a prisoner would only show the remaining North that you were pathetic without the Starks to protect you. A feeling of cold rushed passed you in the wind, and you remembered that day Ser Barristan helped you escape.

He was wrong, whatever worth he saw in making sure you were alive was wrong. You should’ve just stayed there. Let Joffery and Cersei take your head and the world would wage war and move on without you there to ruin everyone’s lives. You couldn’t save your people, your husband, and you couldn’t even save your son, what kind of wife, what kind of queen were you really?

It was Myranda’s hand trailing down to grasp the sides of your dress, pulling them up as she tilted her head down that brought you back. “How’s he left you looking I wonder, think we’d match if we compare? Of course I thought you’d be used to it by now, fucking all those wolves must’ve roughed your cunt up something good, didn’t it?”

Your palms begun to bleed you dug your nails into them so sharply, the muscles in your neck almost trembling from the high kicked nerves inside of you. You could endure everything from the Bolton’s, but you didn’t need to add to the list by reacting, you didn’t need to add to the list by slamming this girl’s head so hard into the stone walls in front of her that you shattered every bone in her pretty face.

But her slimy voice just kept tempting something so furious inside of you the more she talked. “Just how many of those Stark men did you fuck? Spent an awful lot of time with them, didn’t you? Not that I blame you, rough Northern men must be a real treat for such a dour little Southern girl like you.” Leaning her head against the side of yours you felt that fury desperate to be uncaged. “Do the wolves fuck like wolves? Probably why Ramsay just can’t wait for the wedding to take you.”

It was a mistake to let loose, but your voice was speaking before your brain had a chance to stop you from spitting it out. “What about you? Spend an awful lot of time with all those hounds, they probably have taught you a thing or two about how to take it.”

The hand on your dress dropped and you turned to face her as she did you. “Roose Bolton is only keeping you around so you can give Ramsay an heir. The North mourns you as they do their precious King and having you show up with a Bolton baby? Gives them the perfect leverage over them, that’s all your alive for.”

You swallowed your rage as you felt your stomach burn in the remnants of the wounds scarred across them. You refused to let that happen, it wasn’t fair, that couldn’t be what the gods replaced your son with.

“That’s the only reason you’re even alive, isn’t it? Ramsay needs you, or at least...just the parts of you that can give him an heir. And only until you’ve given him a boy or two, then he’s finished with you. I know he has incredible plans for what to do with the rest of you once he’s done, I’m sure it’ll be so much fun to watch. But I don’t have to just watch do I, after all, he doesn’t need such a pretty face and pretty body to fuck a baby into you now does he?”

Her nails reached up to scratch along your neck as you leaned into the others space as if ready to attack her at any moment, your eyes looked back without the fear that her counterparts pulled from you. You didn’t fear her, just the men she totes around with, the only thing that even made her scary was them. But here? You wondered how quickly you could jump off this ledge before men came for you if you did anything right then.

Only, you didn’t, and she didn’t. Instead Theon’s voice from afar interrupted you. “Apologies, my lady, your father is looking for you.” His attention given towards Myranda, only causing her to glace between him and you before smiling.

Leaning in so felt her breathe on your face, “I’ll make sure to come up with some fun new ideas for that pretty face of yours later.”

You didn’t realize how tense your muscles all were until they ached in relaxing once she disappeared from view. Theon didn’t move towards you, only staying in place as he always did. Everyday it was the same, both of you found new horrors to set you right back to where you started, only slowly building up what you both once were when totally alone.

Looking back out to the snow around you, you inhaled a shaking breath before turning your head slightly to the side. “At least come where I can see you, if you’re going to stay at least.” He tried denying, saying he was fine before you interrupted. “It’s not fine, you’re not my servant just come here so I don’t have to shout.”

Coming up beside you slowly, Theon always stood just a little taller when you were alone. Sometimes it was easy to forget he was actually taller then you, with how hunched over his was in the presence of his captors. Both of you looking out into the place that once felt like home, but now served as a cell to mock you with.

“It’s my fault. All this, you, me, it’s my fault.”

Theon’s brows narrowed as he looked down to the stone below before back to the sights. You didn’t give him any chance to respond before you let it all out, feeling almost breathless. “If I didn’t let Roose talk us into sending Ramsay after you then you wouldn’t have...none of this would’ve happened to you then. But I did, I let him talk us into it and...this is worse then anything Robb would’ve ever wanted. He never wanted this, no one deserves what they’ve done to you. And I’m sorry.”

He looked at you with wide eyes, ones that spoke more then he felt in years by now that you didn’t even see. Your own in pain as they looked out as you spoke again. “It won’t ever fix what they’ve done, but it’s my fault. And I’m sorry.”

It took him a good few minutes to speak. You hadn’t expected him too, but you needed it to all be said anyways. When he did, his voice was full. Quiet, likely only audible to you but it sounded more like the Theon you once knew then the entire time you’ve been in the hands of the Boltons, and certainly one of the only times you think he found the bravery to call you by your name anymore. “I..I don’t blame you, either of you. I never did. I knew Robb would want my head for it, I knew it and I did it anyways and..neither of you would’ve wanted this. That’s not who you are..why you and him were so good leading beside the other. You were both firm, but not cruel. It’s not your fault this happened to me..it’s mine for ever betraying you all in the first place.”

You sighed deeply, “Theon no one deserves this. No one. And if no one’s around to take responsibility for it, then I have too.” Your hands let go of your palms, sitting together flat across the stone as you were quiet for a moment. “None of this would’ve happened if it were Robb. If he lived instead of me, he could’ve won the war by now. He would’ve..we promised never to leave the other. That we would stay together no matter what but I’m here and he’s not.”

You paused, and for once, you let the sting in your eyes turn to small droplets down your cheek. “I can’t stop seeing his face. The way he looked at me when he realized what was happening, I’ve never seen Robb look so... horrified before...he thought he was losing everything and he did. He lost the war, his life..his son...” Your voice cracking at the word.

“He lost everything, only for me to live and do what? Fail to carry out the very thing we spent years fighting for? To stay locked up in what used to be his own home, letting the men who killed him ruin everything we did? What kind of Queen let’s this become her King’s legacy?”

Theon leaned forward a bit, almost resting the way you were albeit a bit more awkward. “You didn’t have a choice.” Turning to look at him more to the side, you couldn’t quite convince yourself of what he was saying. “I did and I chose to...”

Voice low, you barley whispered out, “Why? Why did you do it?”

The winds blew around you from how high you were, the chills running across both of you hardly dressed to handle how much the cold had dropped down the past few days. “I wanted to impress him, my father. Prove I was still his son, do what Ironborn are supposed to do. Was easy to forget I was just a prisoner until he reminded me..”

Your head dropped, sighing deeply. “We’re prisoners now. This,” your hand gestured around you, “is us being prisoners. The Starks...they treated you like one of their own...as best they could.” Finally moving, you turned to see him properly, still hints of the man you once knew were still in there. “People like us, we don’t get happy families. We found more family in the Starks then we did with our own fathers and sometimes that means it’s the family we’re supposed to choose.”

You could better see that day in King’s Landing, and where you ended up. “I could’ve gone to my father. Everyone expected me to, but I didn’t. I came back here because this was the family I vowed myself too and so did you. Maybe not at first, but that day you did. You laid a sword at Robb’s feet and swore yourself to him like I did.”

The hurt in him was deep, but it was in you as well. None of the tone was blaming or even harsh, just a whispered truth that you both chose a duty to serve with the people who showed you kindness, not just the ones related by blood.

It was as Theon looked to you, a new stinging mark on your cheek from the other day still slightly visible, and the memories of what he was forced to watch. That night was particularly brutal. “If he marrys you, he’s going to do everything he can to get you pregnant.”

Your eyes were narrowed but sharp as they looked forward. The height here was high enough probably, but you knew there were far more options you could turn to. “Yes he is. But I won’t make it that far, I can’t.”

Something almost distressed tried to creep up in his voice, “He’s not going to-”

“I know he won’t. But I will. I won’t let my last use be for someone like Ramsay, or for Roose either. I can think of a lot more ways to end things myself then they could to stop me. No one knows I’m even here, right? No one would even know if I died a second time.”

His voice was almost inaudible as he spoke. “I would know.” But you heard him, and he knew you did. The quiet between you was thick as he didn’t plead for you to change your mind nor did you want him too. If the gods only gave you two paths now, you would choose the one that led you into the darkness yourself before the other caught up. “He won’t get any better, you keep fighting him.”

Hard to say why, but there was a lightness in your tone. If you had the energy to describe it, you might have realized it was the bare bones of a joke as you tilted your head. “You’ve seen what I look like under this now. It can’t get much worse can it?”

The wide eyes on you, as the tone beside of was that of a man years ago that would banter and argue with no meaning behind it but jest, and you suspected not even Theon knew where it came from. “For your face it could. Be a shame.”

You looked at him with an incredulous expression, before something slipped out of your mouth with as much shocking ease. “Still would look better than you, Greyjoy.”

In this place, as stripped down and torn apart as these people had made you both, it was sure an odd little sight as you and Theon for a few moments, just stood there and laughed. For a few mere seconds, you were back all those years when you could tease the other mercilessly and still walk it off to a normal life beyond it.

The laughs didn’t last long, nor were they very hard but it was at least it wasn’t another moment of tormenting misery. A moment that it seemed, was enough to begin awakening more of Theon Greyjoy then he had sensed in years.

Enough to know that if it was only the two of you left, he couldn’t lose you. If you were here, he might be able to find and stay Theon, but without? There was only Reek, and the pain Ramsey would put Reek through in anger for losing their so called key to the North.

He said no, it took a good part of Jon to say it but he swore a duty to the Night’s Watch and now as Lord Commander, it was on his shoulders to lead them where he knew it needed to start going. It was strange though, something twisted inside of him as Stannis took in the answer. He’d seen that exact reaction before.

A distant coldness, a disappointment that feels like they’re watching potential being thrown away and left to freeze at the end of the world. The King didn’t argue, and he respected Jon’s choice without trying to debate him on it, but it also felt exactly like when Jon confirmed to you he was joining the Night’s Watch. You didn’t fight him or get angry but you made it clear that you felt he was worth more then just this.

He didn’t like thinking about it, the idea of would you be as disappointed with him as your father now was. For so long there was noise beyond noise masked in horror within his head, and so much of it came down to fighting this battle of duty for the Night’s Watch when he was seeing the true threat looming over.

A threat that only one man seemed to understand. The King had asked him, “Why do you think I abandoned Dragonstone and sailed to the Wall, Lord Snow?”

Jon had merely said, because he answered their plea for help. “You came because we sent for you, I hope. Though I couldn’t say why you took so long about it.” The smile Stannis gave him reminded him too much of you, you had such a similar smile whenever it was you Jon’s bold wit was directed towards but it was so much more rare on the man before him.

Jon wouldn’t know, but in that little moment, Stannis was truly finding many things about him that made him understand why he would mean so much to you. You didn’t speak on him so directly, but the more he worked alongside him the more he saw the things that you would’ve seen in him.

“You turn down my offer, but you’re certainly bold enough to be a Stark. Yes, I should have come sooner. If not for my Hand,” directing attention towards Ser Davos behind him. “I might not have come at all. Lord Seaworth is a man of humble birth, but he reminded me of my duty when all I could think of was my rights. I had the cart before the horse, he said. I was trying to win the throne to save the kingdom, when I should have been trying to save the kingdom to win the Throne.”

Gesturing North, he gave him one last look. “There is where I’ll find the enemy I was born to fight.” His eyes narrowed in thought for one last moment, “If my lone duty is to take the throne, then I shouldn’t be here, but I am because this is where I am meant to be. But if you say your duty is here and only here, I will respect your decision.”

Almost in passing before he left, Stannis turned once more. “You have many enemies in Castle Black. Have you considered sending Alliser Thorne elsewhere? Give him command of Eastwatch by the Sea.”

The gods were unknowingly cruel to Jon as he responded, almost in jest. “I heard it was best to keep your enemies close.”

Stannis only said one thing before parting, “Whoever said that didn’t have many enemies.”

It was then as Jon was left in his thoughts, did he see Ser Davos pause before staying behind in his office. “He sees something in you. It might not be apparent from his tone, but it’s the truth. He believes in you.” All Jon could do was apologize for disappointing him, he had too much to think about to know what else to say, but the man was not yet done.

Olly closed the door once more as Ser Davos sat down. “The King is a complicated man, but he wants what’s right for the Seven Kingdoms.”

It was that duty he spoke of, and yet it was the thought once more that Stannis was not the only Baratheon who would be disappointed in his stubbornness. “I’ve sworn to stay clear of the politics of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Humble birth he was said to be from, and it made sense to Jon. Ser Davos had a quick and commoner tongue and lacked a usual stern formality Jon had seen in many men that would be like him. “Have you now?” Turning back slightly to Olly, he promoted, “How does the Night’s Watch vow go again? I bet you’ve got it memorized since you got here- not that bit, the bit at the end.”

Jon knew it was complicated of a situation for Olly to be thrown into after the kind of life he had not so long ago, but he saw the dedication in his eyes as he spoke the words already deeply ingrained in Jon’s own head. “I’m the sword in the darkness, I am the watcher on the walls, the shield that guards the realm of men. I pledge-”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Ser Davos turned back to him with a look he could tell knew what was already forming in his own mind. “The shield that guards the realms of men. That’s what you swore to be. Now I’m not a learned man, but the best way of helping the most people might not be sitting in a frozen castle at the edge of the world. It just might mean wading through the muck and getting your boots dirty, doing what needs to be done.”

Jon started to understand why the King kept him by his side. Certainly more blunt and honest then most lords Jon knew would be. “And what needs to be done?”

It took him a moment to answer, just looking him over trying to figure something out that Jon couldn’t recognize. “Roose Bolton didn’t just murder your brother, and it wasn’t just your brother’s wife he murdered either. That was the King’s own daughter. She and Robb Stark tried reasoning with him, put aside the fighting for Kingdoms to face the threats that really mattered, I tried to tell him he was making a mistake by turning them down. And now they’re both dead.”

He didn’t like feeling so stripped down in front of people, leaving him with something so raw that it could be seen if looking too closely in his eyes. “Asking me to leave the Night’s Watch won’t change that.”

“No.” Davos nodded, “But it means letting the North think no one cares about them. Your brother had said the North won’t have Stannis as their King and meeting enough of you I’m inclined to believe that. I’m not telling you if you should accept his offer or not. But I do think it’s worth thinking about how the Bolton’s murdered the only hope the North had, and as long as they continue to rule it, the North will suffer.”

He stood up, giving Jon one last look. “Just one man’s opinion.”

And as Jon gathered the men later, after he finally did one thing to start that list of things that needed to be done and took Janos Slynt’s head, he looked up to where Stannis had watched. Realizing he saw that very kind of firm pride he imagined in your eyes, but in your fathers. He was haunted by your eyes in every Baratheon he came across anymore.

And later, as he finally went to Tormund Giantsbane with what to many would be an unpopular idea, Jon understood what made Stannis work as a King. Many in Castle Black were going to despise this idea, and yet it was just another on a long list of things Jon knew needed to be done.

The Bolton’s weren’t out of his mind, not at all. But if he was going to help the North he needed to start somewhere. He needed to start with the North right in front of his eyes. But what they found when they got to Hardhome, only pushed that thought even closer to the front of Jon’s mind.

Their numbers were too great, and the North that was Jon’s true home would be the next stop of those unprotected and forgotten about. If Jon only let his duty care about the Night’s Watch, it begun to feel more and more like that would mean accepting he didn’t care about the people of his real home, and Jon knew all too well in his heart how opposite of the truth that was.

King Stannis would soon move out, make his way through the heavy snow of the North with plans of attack to slowly take out Bolton controlled land, and eventually make a move on the Bolton’s themselves with or without Jon. Leaving behind his wife Selyse, and his daughter Shireen behind with the sure promise of himself and Ser Davos of keeping them safe.

Though, in Jon’s adding frustrations of his days, he did greatly wish the King took Lady Melisendre and her constant need to preach these ominous visions of her one god, south with him. He could only have Olly force her to wait outside his office for too many hours, so many times in a row.

You had been finally given a chance to sleep for a little bit. Not given much of a chance by Ramsay at night but during the day you found pockets to rest alone. Only this time, you had awakened from a nightmare that haunted you with bodies upon bodies of the dead. And just as you looked to see a tall figure of ice with crystal blue eyes, so did the bodies stand beside it and all shined blue together. You had almost woken in a dreading panic from that, but then came Walda to walk with you to supper.

And you thought of that dream of bodies standing beside one another not a second longer.

Most times in front of the others, he was treated mostly like a servant. Yet something today had Ramsay looking at Theon and feeling an incessant need to talk and torment. Your new place in the dining area was sat next to Ramsey as if you belonged there as Walda did across from you by Roose’s side.

You wanted to feel bad, for how much she tried reaching out to you and how little you gave back but everyday she spoke to you like this situation was normal, like it was okay. When in truth outside of the Bolton’s own men here, most people in Winterfell who saw you could see the marks, the cuts, the bruises and the strain of mental anguish weighing you down and sinking your eyes further into the abyss. The people of Winterfell outside those of the Bolton’s, weren’t fooled as to what they were doing. But they could only do so much to stop it, meaning none.

You were being dragged through blood and fear only to be thrown to the hounds when no more use was found of you. Only, that wouldn’t be for years at this pace of life. That would take much longer then you could endure.

Walda’s call of your name drifted your thoughts to the present. Your blank stare towards the plate you barley touched drifted up to hers. “Are you excited for it? The wedding? Roose tells me we’re planning on moving it up soon, right?”

Your blank stare sunk into your stomach with a weight as you looked at him, “I wasn’t aware of that.”

To your suprise, the man next to you spoke with his own suprise in his voice. “I was not either, father. When did you decide this?” You weren’t fooled by the fake tone of pleasantry, and nor was the other Bolton.

Raising an eyebrow at his son, “The snow came in harder then we expected, we aren’t expecting another storm like it anytime soon but needless to say it would be far more convenient to have the wedding while it’s still a walk to the Weirwood and not a hike.”

You didn’t watch the odd staring match between him and his father as you bit your tongue harsh to keep yourself steady, even sitting. Ramsay next to you faking a smile, “A winter wedding will be quite delightful, far more Northern then those dry summer weddings. I can’t imagine Winterfell looked quite as nice as it does now the last time you were wed here.”

Taking a sip of the drink in front of you, hating how the wine they gave you was too harsh and thick to swallow at the best of times, worse now as you felt your throat close up. “I think Winterfell is lovely in any season.”

Ramsay knew you were trying to play nice, trying not to glare or spit back at him and you knew it only amused him further. A hand on his heart with such fakeness you could smack off his face, “Of course, my lovely bride. Still so soon, truly a tragedy what happened to your husband it must still hurt even now. But fear not, we must make new memories together, won’t we?”

Looking at the other side of the table you could see a stillness in Theon as he was faced away.

“You know what, my bride,” Looking to you as you barley peeled your eyes over to him and found the normal cruelty in his pale blues. “No one really knows your here, and with almost all of both your families gone, it seems we have no one to send you off, do we?”

Just more of the world you had no idea of, who was left, or where, or if anyone really was around or were you truly trapped alone here? Trapped with the Boltons until you found your own way out. “If it is just me, perhaps I don’t need any one to.”

Ramsay’s smile growing vile and cruel. “Now we can’t have that, tradition is tradition. Keeping those upheld are just so important wouldn’t you say?” Looking to the other side of the table with that same grin. “Now, you spent much of your childhood here didn’t you? Grew up around the Stark boys and their friends and whatnot? Then I suppose that Reek here, is the nearest thing to kin that you have.”

He called Reek, and you watched Theon turn around with a startle as he looked unnerved at Ramsay still looking at him with painted glee. “You will give away my bride. Someone has to, what better person?” He looked to you and then the table, “Good?”

Theon’s eyes found yours. He wouldn’t give you away, because you both knew you would take anyway out of this tortured existence as soon as you could should that time arrive. Roose’s voice was dismissive and somewhat annoyed in the back as you both still looked at the other. “Yes, yes very good.”

A dead acceptance in yours, and something almost pleading in his before you broke it. Ramsay pleased with himself, “Wonderful.” You would end yourself still haunted by how much he talked endlessly it felt like.

Roose looking past his son, to his wife and then you. “Walda and I have some good news as well. Since we’re all together.” His eyes were curiously on you, watching closely for something inside you to react.

Looking at the pair of you, with a happy little smile on her face she announced, “We’re going to have a baby.” And you felt everything sink. Right down to the pit of your stomach as you felt the sharpness of the wound in there scream and burn. Nothing spilt there, but you could feel the blood pooling and a loving set of deep blue eyes horror stricken and broken above you.

A weight in your throat wanted to throw up the little you had even consumed, as you felt almost lightheaded. Roose’s eyes were on you, because he knew that was the first thing he took from you and Robb. The act that set off the terrorizing night you wished ended you then beside his own dying body. If you looked at Roose’s waist, the dagger sat on his person even now. Never touched, but soaked still, in three distinct bodies of dried blood.

Looking up to Walda, there was a pureness in her. She was excited, thrilled. You truly wanted her to be, she didn’t deserve your ire towards what the man next to her took from you. A small smile on your face as you nodded. “That is good news, I’m happy for you. Sure they’ll be beautiful.”

Roose twisted that knife inside you once more, only his eyes were glancing to the suddenly very still and quiet Ramsay. “From the way shes carrying, Maester Wolkan says it looks like a boy.” You wanted to scream, you wanted to throw everything off this very table and shatter it all into pieces that he was just mocking you with exactly what he stole.

Exactly the thing he kicked the massacre off with, that ended with shoving the knife soaked with your blood and your unborn child’s blood into Robb’s chest before it was all over in seconds. He took that from you and now demanded you just give the same to his own son by force, watch Walda have with glee what you only were given a few short months to experience.

You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t do this anymore, you needed out and in the slightly proud of himself glint in Roose’s eye you wanted the chance to take them out with you. You would die anyways, the gods have already saw fit to punish you. Send you to a living hell for the cost of your sins and maybe it wouldn’t really matter if you shoved a knife into at least one of their throats before doing yourself final.

Maybe part of you truly did die that day with Robb, beacuse what was left didn’t feel human. It just felt like a torturous agony that dragged you along until you were left to die once more but with more guilt and shame then ever possible.

Whatever compelled both of the parties there that evening, it was for different reasons yet the same idea behind both. They never noticed, or perhaps the only one who would have noticed said not a word of it. It stayed hidden as long as you could but now it was tight in one hand as you found not yet the bravery to do it. It wasn’t who you are, or once were, to do such a thing but maybe you’d leave the North ever so slightly better off if you did.

Only the second person who was outside that study, was the only person who wouldn’t turn you in for it, not now. Your eyes met Theon’s as you both were against other sides of the stone wall, his wide and pleading yours a pleading of your own but to just let you do this.

He shook his head but you swallowed. Tilting your gaze away to the empty hall beside you with a sting in your eyes. If not now, when? Or why not? The men inside, having no idea what kind of silent argument of action was just outside that door as they spoke. Loud enough for them to hear without the two inside knowing.

Roose speaking of Ramsay’s mother, having you look to Theon with eyes glossing over to ask why should you stay here to men like this. “She was the miller’s wife. Apparently they had married without my knowledge or consent. So I had him hanged, and I took her beneath the trees where he was swaying. She fought me the whole time, she was lucky I didn’t hang her too.”

Theon shaking is head as you felt your stomach twist more. The scars you already had would get worse and you yearned to be a wife hanging beside her husband in place of one more day of this. He was ready to step forward, take that knife from you but at this rate he also knew you were desperate enough you might slice at him with it if he tried to stop you.

“A year later she came to my gates with a squalling baby in her arms, a baby she claimed was mine. I nearly had her whipped, and the child thrown in the river.” Your head fell back onto the stone, your hand shaking but fallen lower down to your legs as you looked to Theon. He said he would know if you died, but is this even an existence?

“But then I looked at you, and I saw then what I see now. You are my son.”

This was your punishment, given to men like this. Men who bonded over what a father did to his mother and neither finding anything wrong with that. It was no wonder Ramsay turned out the way he did, something of being born to a man like Roose clearly did not grace him with skipping the worst of his traits.

You were supposed to just have your children, and love them regardless of any man your husband might be. That’s what Cersei had told you all those years ago when you first bled, but you weren’t strong enough to endure whatever this marriage was. Not strong enough to be used for children and separated from them before you could know who they were.

You’d had enough of that already and the scar to haunt you. But just as you and Theon looked like you had no other idea of what to do, the words that came out of Roose’s mouth sent water down your spine and woke up senses you forgotten.

“Stannis Baratheon has an army at Castle Black.”

Your heads both turned. Your lips parted as you almost slumped over but whatever woke up in you, woke up in Theon as well as inside the words continued. “Jon Snow is their Lord Commander, and if he chooses to join forces? Then the road to King’s Landing will take them both right through Winterfell. Meaning it’s only a matter of time before they find out the girl’s alive.”

It was like two names that hit you and your head spun around from the impact. Your father wasn’t just near, he wasn’t just in the North. He was at Castle Black. Castle Black, with Jon. You had no idea why but you could only see the last time you two saw each other truly. Parting ways on the Kingsroad as he left North and you South, your insides screaming to go back with more then just heartache.

Only enough sense in you to walk away as Theon followed. Finding an alcove out of earshot and eyesight you looked up at him and he you. Before you could even say a word, he whispered first. “Go back to your room.”

Your head shaking in confusion, “What? Theo-”

Grabbing your forearms, it leaned down to look at you. “Please, just do it, go back to your room and don’t go anywhere.” His eyes glancing to the knife if your hand, “Or do anything. Please.”

You wouldn’t know he felt bad the urgency in which he just shoved you down the corridor, but something in him started to stir and he needed to make sure that the desperately broken part inside of him wouldn’t talk himself out of it.

Shutting the door to the room you now had to call yours, you pressed your back flat against it as you leaned your head back with a thud breathing heavily. When was the last time you saw him, dreamt about him? Nothing of him was in your mind for so long, only in tiny pockets until now where it was as if that was all you could see or think of.

That day, in the middle of the camp as Catelyn told you about when he got the pox as a baby, you wrote it off as something else, panic, anxiety, anything but something you couldn’t comprehend but you have no idea the image you were seeing. Someplace far North, high as if he were up on the wall and the redheaded woman you tried not thinking about. But it was more then that, for a moment, you felt like you both saw the other.

Like that delusion was real and now all you could think about was what you had even looked at. Why did it remind you of those dreams, dreams of the cold, and eyes blue like crystals that shook you to the core. For so long you were plagued by images in your head, dreams in your sleep that you either forgot or wrote off but ever since that day at the Twins?

They never came back until..until the dream you had today. In fact it felt as if nothing came back with you except for the blood and the hellish nightmares of that night. Like what happened before that night did not exist and you found nothing inside of you to remind you until this moment. You could barley breathe almost, sliding down to the ground your eyes shut resting your palms against them.

What was happening to you, is this what those dreams all felt like before you just couldn’t recall in this state? The confusion perplexing you further as you tried to think in any reason your father would be anywhere near the Wall. He had never even been in the North and yet he brought an army. A year ago you would been on top of all this kind of information, but now you felt like a child who needed everything explained.

The world moved too fast without you. And everyone in it. The noise inside was too much, your hand on it’s own accord reached up, running over where your scar was underneath the fabric of your dress as you recalled the looks people gave to you. The ones Theon did, the way Maester Wolkan looked shocked and in almost fear.

Gods above you had something else at play but you couldn’t come up with anything to connect these scattered pieces towards. And Jon. Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, a whole life for him passed without you, a life that you weren’t sure it you’ve seen parts of or not but it sure felt like it. A life that you didn’t know if you had a place in, but you didn’t truly have a place since Robb.

That was your problem, shuffling from torment to torture with no spot in the world you belonged in anymore and maybe no one could fit you in it. You weren’t even just different people now, you were worse. The things you’ve done and how far you’ve dropped from such a life you may as well not be the same person Jon loved all those years ago.

If he even thought of you, you’d be shocked. Why would he ever have once you were out of the others life? Your mind ranted and raved as it tried to quell itself but it felt like thoughts, images, flashes of things and dreams you’d long forgotten smashed into your eyes one after the other.

It took a while, convincing yourself to stand up. Tucking the knife away into a pocket of your dress as you sat gently down onto the bed. The nerves buzzing in your blood had long worn off, and much exhaustion was left. You were too tired, to weak, your body and mind pushed too far to handle any much more, slowly your eyes drifted shut and you barley remember moving just enough to lay out on the bed before passing out finally.

You barley heard the sound when it slid under the door, but you heard the knock that followed it. Startling yourself up onto your palms, you looked around in confusion for a moment until the slip of paper found it’s way to your vision. Standing up slowly, you eyed it with deep suspicion before kneeling down. Opening it slightly you didn’t recognize the scrawl but the words still neat enough to make out.

“Back gate to the woods go now.”

Heart picking up just a few paces, you gently opened the door but found none there. No one there watching or even a sound nearby to be heard, it seemed to be rather late at night but no one around at all was strange. Looking down at your dress, it was hardly made for the outside but as you looked down the hall with a shaking breathe you wondered how much time “go now” truly was giving you.

Nothing to bring but what was on you, any possessions mostly stripped from you at any given chance leaving your little room with nothing you found use for. The halls were quiet, and the sparse guards still around were either alone and easy to navigate around, or in little groups distracted to the side as the moon was too high in the sky to assume folly was afoot.

You almost hesitated. The outside was right there and not a soul was there to watch or guard you as you would walk out, something that none would question years ago but now made you already feel the punishment to follow getting caught. But the cold seen on your heavy breathe flared into the night as you looked around. Nothing but snow, and near the edge was the small wall separating you from the clearing below and the woods ahead.

Why you were told to come here, you couldn’t figure out until you realized it was a trap. An arrow swishing by your head and landing strong into the wooden pillar beside you, making you turn around and the game made sense suddenly. Her dark eyes and conniving smile plastered all over her face as she held up the bow, arrow now aimed at your head as you paused. “Now what’s a little wolf like you doing out here all by herself?”

Your breathing felt heavy, lungs tight inside you but you kept a roughly even tone. “I couldn’t sleep, wanted to have some fresh air.” Your heart hurt as it pounded in your chest.

Tsking, she smiled more with a slime across it. “So you what, got dressed in your day clothes, boots and came all the way to the other side of the castle to do so?”

What could you even say, you wondered if she was just vile enough to send you a note herself to get you to go running in a game of hers. Hunting not just animals was indeed a favourite of hers and Ramsay’s you knew too well. You were just played a desperate fool like a weak little animal running from her cage.

Stepping forward slowly, Myranda glanced you over. “Ramsay has just been so focused on you, I think he’s actually spent more time in your bed then I have his.” Your bit your tongue as an unpleasant shiver ran down the length of your spine. “It isn’t fair, I actually make him happy. You don’t see him leaving scars like that on my pretty face, do you? So why does he spend so much time with you before you’re even married?”

The marks still healing on your cheek, one on your jaw that was more fresh and a cut on your lip that reopened every other day. She had none of the sort. “Maybe you’re spending too much time with the hounds, starting to smell like one.”

Her grin grew as she looked almost impressed. “Look at her, our Queen still has some bite in her. I can only imagine what you were like before Ramsay broke you in, almost a shame I’ll cut your tongue out before I have a chance to see more of her.”

Stepping closer still, you could feel the weight of the knife in your pocket. But getting to it would be slower then she would be at just releasing that arrow in you here and now. What would your plan even be after that? Hide? He wouldn’t be any sort of forgiving for you hurting his favourite willing bed warmer. You were on your own without a plan, and you were sure she wanted it that way.

“Roose needs me as a mouthpiece for the North. You do anything to get in the way of that, he’ll punish you next.” Her eyes narrowed at you, almost contemplating for a second.

Only, she just shrugged. “At least I can take it.” Watching as she turned the bow down slightly you could feel the rushing in your veins as it aimed to where you knew the mark on your stomach was, you hit a sore spot so she would hit your biggest. Only, instead of her arrow releasing with it’s strength, it loosened as she stumbled forward.

The swish of an arrow was heard, but you could see as she knelt over, it was in her back. A place you could feel radiate on your own. Right where the Frey’s had shot one at you when trying to fight back against Roose as you were on the ground.

Your eyes darted up, and her head turned back with a cry of pain she yelled. “You fucking-” Only the figure let another one out before she could say anymore and cut her off with a second shot right beside the first. It wasn’t a tortured man named Reek you saw, but the sharp eyes if exasperated face of Theon.

Always a good shot he was, and even in his state now, he looked at you with a determination you hadn’t seen since marching into the Westlands with him and Robb at your side. Looking up at you with a vile anger, you could see her face flushing as Theon approached from behind. “You little slut, you steal my lover and have his pathetic creature shoot me in the back like a coward?”

In a split second, you felt something that hadn’t been there in so long but the memory of doing so still fresh in your own muscles. You were bleeding out on the ground, and with a knife as unmemorable as the one finding itself crawling back into your hand? You remembered lunging up at Roose Bolton only to be knocked back as an arrow was stabbed into your upper arm and one to your back knocked you down entirely.

This time was in the reverse order, and perhaps, a little more violent then you should’ve done but it was an instinct you took the second Myranda moved to lunge up at you, a yell of some kind of alert on her tongue before you moved as well. The sounds in her mouth drowning through the blood as you shoved it with a shaking hand deep into the bottom of her mouth.

Your hear raced and your hand so tight on the knife it made your muscles cramp up, eyes wide as she choked on the growing blood and the sounds failing to come out beyond it gagging. Letting go of it she fell back, and you were stuck watching. Realizing what would happen when he finds out, when he finds out what you did and it was only going to get worse.

Theon grabbed your upper arms, forcing you to look at him calling your name. “Look at me, we’re going to jump down?” You think you said something in confusion but the words didn’t hit your ears as your mind raced through what would happen to you, fighting with the images in your head of life and dreams you only just remembered. “The fall isn’t far, but we have to jump right now.”

Tugging you with him, a hand still on your forearm he seemed to sense you were on some kind of autopilot. The fall wasn’t bad, only really hurting the parts of you that still ached dearly. Your backs pressed up against the stone wall for a second until he knelt in front of you.

More Theon Greyjoy then you ever remembered since seeing him again. “We have to run, okay? We have to run now, you know what he’ll do when he sees what we’ve done.”

You shook your head, the panic and rush in your heart fogging your mind until he shook you, physically shook you to look at him firmly calling your name, “Theon we can’t, where would we-”

Then the fog felt like it left in him. His voice without stammer, but an urgency he needed to pull you into, he knew the shock you felt but he needed you as much as you needed him. “North. We run, we go north, and we find Jon. Jon’s at Castle Black, he’ll protect you, you know he will, but we have to leave now.”

The sounds were enough to start either drawing attention, or your missing presence caught other attention and soon they’d find her. Your face firming as you tried calming the racing in your heart, he looked at you with one last pull. “Do you remember when we were teenagers? When the Starks would have us run through the woods like a game?” You nodded, your brows furrowing as it all hit that it was now or never. “It’s just like that. Only this time, we’re the ones who know these woods better then they do. Do you trust me?”

Holding a hand out to you, you felt less like a beaten down prisoner and like the fury that one existed in you to push forward. You nodded, “I do.” Grabbing his hand as Theon pulled you up to your feet.

Sounds only increased behind you as you took off. The cold of the night and snow on the ground was horrible and bitter, but you and Theon took off as fast as you could manage. The trees whipping by you as yelling and the barking of hounds started to gather at the castle but not once did you and him slow, and not once did either of you let go of the other.

Ramsay would hunt you, but he pushed you both too far to let it stop you. Your dress long making you stumble in the thickest layers of snow, Theon never once let you on your own. Grabbing you and pulling you up until you went you could both feel the burning in your lungs.

The Boltons kept you both weak, underfed, beaten and with as little as you could need to survive but the need to survive alone, now was stronger then the withholding they forced onto you both. So many years ago you and Theon would compete in these very woods to who was a better shot or who could find the best places to hide to hunt bigger game and now it was you two who were the game.

The hounds grew louder, and as you approached the wide running water of the river you paused. Looking at the water and back, only Theon didn’t pause. Whatever awoke in his heart refused to give up now. Turning to you, “We have to cross it, it’s the only way to throw off the hounds.”

The water was waist high at the deepest and your freezing bodies shook and stabbed at you in the pain of how cold it was, but you both pushed along, both keeping a hand on the other as Theon led you through that freezing agony. Looking back, you could hear the barking closer and he looked to a small alcove that was just out of easy sight. “We can’t outrun them, we have to hide.”

Turning to him with doubt for a second, but he looked behind you and pulled you himself. Both of you all but throwing yourselves into pushing up against the snow and dirt. Crouched in the freezing water as you shook, pressed up against the other, arms linked as you both knew you couldn’t make a single sound.

You couldn’t stay in this kind of water for long, but you had to. The scent would have lost the dogs but they could still see or hear you if you ran now. Instead of you had to stay there. Making it to Castle Black like this was impossible, and you both knew you would have to run as far as you could to find anything like a horse.

Your eyes found each other as the sounds of the hounds barked all around the other side of the river and yelling about where you two were, yelling about Ramsay’s orders kept you locked in a fear as you tried not to make a sound or even let go of the other. You’d have to stay there as long as the men and hounds were in earshot, but not a second longer.

If what Theon and you heard was right, Roose Bolton would know there was only one real place you could go and it would take days to get there. Neither of you knew who in the North would serve the Boltons regardless of who you were, you needed to find anything or anyone, take a horse and just go right until you reached the wall.

But as long as you both were there in the river, you couldn’t move. Only freeze in the water.

The morning shined early and Roose Bolton was not in the mood for the sunlight beaming in the windows of Winterfell. He was unbelievably angry. “Everything I have done for you, and the way you repay me is to let my most valuable prisoner run free into the woods?”

He may have been the only person who could stand there and lecture Ramsay without any kind of fear in his eyes. He knew exactly what his son was, and he was angry he let him play these games for so long. Even now, trying to come up with an excuse. “She’s weak, she’s afraid and all she has helping her is Reek. I have a team of men that have been after them since they escaped, my best hounds with them. They won’t get far.”

Roose leaned forward, palms braced against the table as he stared his son down. “They’ve already gotten far. How long do you think it will take them to get out of your hounds reach, how long until they find help? We don’t have the North unified under our rule, that was why I needed her.”

Ramsay’s arms crossed his chest as an anger inside him boiled up, “No one even knows shes alive and they think Reek is a traitor, what help are they going to find out there before they freeze to death?”

Voice was even but Ramsay no doubt knew what kind of danger lurked behind his father’s glare. “If you cannot bring her back to me, alive, what do you think is going to happen? All they need is to find one person who can give them a horse, and where will she go then, Ramsay? Tell me. Where would she go when finally on the back of a horse?”

He didn’t like feeling so lectured, and he knew he didn’t want to say anything in case he only added insult to injury, but he was missing the point. “Stannis has already started moving South, the land we control is already preparing to war with him. She wouldn’t risk it.”

Roose breathed in deeply. Pushing up from his palms to walk around the length of the table. Coming to step in front of his son. “I needed her because she is Robb Stark’s widow, she was the North’s Queen and they would have joined me if we had her. She spent half of her life in Winterfell growing up around the Starks, I didn’t need to keep her away from Stannis Baratheon.”

Ramsay knew better then to give that kind of attitude, and yet the calm and quiet tone in his father’s voice only rubbed salt in. “Who would help her, then father? Tell me. Half of the Umbers came to our side, the Karstarks came to our side and they would soon turn her in before helping her, where is she to go in this weather that you are so worried about?”

“I watched men for three years underestimate Robb Stark, and it wasn’t until I shoved a knife in his heart did his enemies realize how dangerous he had been. I wasn’t about to make the same mistake. I wanted to keep her a secret because there’s only one person who will bring a war right to our doorstep for her.” His eyes narrowed at his son who didn’t speak a word. Only seethed in a rage at how much his father was looking at him as a failure.

“Jon Snow is Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, which means he has the skill and the leadership that the North saw in his brother. And he was that girls closest friend, so I ask you again. What do you think he will do, when he finds out that not only is she alive, not only were we holding her prisoner, but what do you think Jon Snow will do when he finds out the thing’s you’ve been doing to her?”

Ramsey hissed out trying to contain his emotions. “You’re the one who murdered his brother, shoved a knife into her stomach.”

But there was no doubt who was going to be the subject of true rage. “And you are the one who spent months beating, torturing, and raping her. I let you play your games with the heir to the Iron Islands, but I should never have trusted you with her. She was a valuable hostage, and now she’s on her way to Castle Black.”

Walking away from him, Roose’s voice echoed more through the quiet room. “Without her you won’t be able to produce an heir, and without an heir...” Turning to his son with a mocking lift of an eyebrow, and tilt of his head. “Make sure we get to her before Jon Snow does, otherwise let’s hope the Maesters are right about Walda carrying a boy. Losing your bride isn’t something worthy of a true Bolton.”

By the time Ramsay had returned to his own quarters, the anger had built to a point that the men around him knew was destructive. He didn’t tell his father what he was doing, and maybe if he was more sound of mind he could convince himself that this idea was a mistake.

His writing was erratic, and stammering and full of delusions that his father would never let send out, but he wrote it, and as he sent off that letter, paper tinged in a pink, he thought nothing of the consequences.

The little boy kept staring, peeking above his bowl of soup or around the corner to watch you.

By a days afternoon, you had came across a little farmhouse. Hoping to stop and rest to catch your breathe, you were spotted by a dog barking at you incessantly. Standing in fear, you and Theon tried putting an arm in front of the other only for an apologetic man to come around the corner.

“What in the are you yapping at, it’s the middle of the day-oh.” Pulling the dog back as it calmed the man was a bit lanky and a soft face that held laugh lines built from years. “Normally I’d ask what you’re doin’ on my land, but I’m more curious as to why in the gods you both look like you’ve been through hell and back.”

Glancing at each other, you raised an eyebrow. Not so far from the truth but a little too complicated to explain. “Brigands. Came burned near everythin’ we had didn’t have nowhere else to go.” It had been too long since the will power to stay so stone faced and not laugh hit you like this. Gods bless Theon for having enough in him to come up with anything.

Shooing his dog off, he stepped forward to you both, nothing on him in your quick glance that was any kind of a weapon. “Seven hells, nothing but trouble since those Boltons took over. You two look like you could use some food in you.” Pausing as he glanced at Theon, “Maybe a wash would do you good as well.”

A worry sat in both your stomach’s but as a little boy called out to his father, the man shouting back he’d be a moment, you and Theon relaxed a tiny bit. “Just a few hours, and we go.” You nodded in agreement before taking up his offer.

His home was small and cozy, only a few rooms and not much space but it was well built and quite warm with the fire. Telling you about how his wife passed giving birth, his older son lost fighting for the King in the North. Theon and yourself swallowing hard at such a passing comment, as he contiuned saying it’s only him and his boy now. Clothes he had given you both were clean, and left something to wash up. “Apologies lass, my wife was more of what they’d call short and stout. Hope you don’t mind wearing some my sons old clothes, probably warmer then that dress of yours anyways.”

The pause between you as you both were left alone, you looked at Theon before turning away slightly and pulling your dress off, awkwardly grumbling. “Nothing you haven’t seen before at this point, I suppose.”

He didn’t make a single move to undress with you in the room, and you both knew why he wouldn’t. Adjusting the dark and slightly too large and thin coat, you cleared your throat. “We’ll stay until it gets dark, then we need to keep moving before they have a chance to catch up.”

Nodding, he looked around with a very stilted embarrassment. “Saw a few horses coming in, should be able to get you to Jon in a few days on one of them.”

Before you left you looked at him one last time, “Listen. You didn’t need to help me. You could've left on your own or just stayed back and let them do all this to me, knowing it’d be safer not to get involved. But you didn’t, you risked your own life to help me and I won’t forget that.” His eyes said more then the silence in the air. “You did a lot wrong, so did I. But...you’ve paid for those many times over now. Even before I got there, you paid for your sins and them some. I just...thought you should know that.”

You had guessed it was the scars still scattered across your face the boy kept looking at. Luckily the man, Dane, he was called, asked no questions, seemed to believe your story enough not to consider the dirty details his business and you were thankful. A pit in your gut made any words difficult to come out, and certainly as well from the much cleaner Theon who emerged.

Two bowls sat down in front of you both, steaming warm. “Not much of a cook, but it’ll get you through the night well enough. Gods,” Sighing heavily as he dropped down to the other side of the table himself. “Nothing but shit after shit with those fuckers in charge. Bunch of backstabbers, them and those Frey’s for what they did.”

Your chest felt sickeningly weightless, trying to eat without your eyes shaking off any agony which could be spotted within them. Theon was better at talking, always was at the least. “Heard the Lannisters were the one’s behind it.”

Chuckling, Dane shrugged at you both. “Wouldn’t shock me, first they put that bastard of theirs on the throne then they murder our King and Queen in cold blood? Cursed, whole of them are if you ask me. Murdering them after bringing them to a wedding, feeding them? What happened to this place we can’t even go anywhere without watching our backs.”

Focus on the table you told yourself, don’t think about it, don’t see the blood and stop feeling the twisting in your stomach at the memory of it all. He and Theon talked around you, until the small boy tugged at your pant leg.

Your head whipping down almost in defensive motion until the boy held up a a little paper flower to you with bright eyes. Reaching down gently you whispered, “Is this for me?” He nodded so shyly running to his fathers side as soon as you grabbed it’s stem.

Heart warming a tad, Dace chuckled. “I’d watch yourself, lad.” His eyes on Theon as he nodded to you, picking his son up onto his lap as the boy whispered something to his father. “Says you’re pretty like a queen.”

Melting into the floor felt like an option, your gaze on the paper flower, it wasn’t well made, or even impressive but it was all the boy had you guessed. Especially now that winter was truly coming. He hugged his dads neck but looked at you, hiding when you smiled at him gently with a “Thank you.”

It was tucked away in the pocket of the coat over you, safe and sound. Not at all missing you that this might have been the smallest yet sweetest thing someone had done for you since...well since Robb. You could even see his reaction, those bright blue eyes and charming smile at a little boy presenting his wife with a flower.

Theon took charge of the conversation once more, you could see how hard he was working to try and fit in, trying to act normal when truthfully you both hadn’t been like any normal human being in at least a year. And as the night progressed, it got just a little bit easier.

The boy about to go to bed, looking to you before running to his room. Smiling, and without thinking of it, you slowly stood up. Kneeling down in front of him and giving him a small kiss on the cheek. “Maybe next time we see each other, winter will be over and you can give me a real flower.”

You stayed knelt on the ground as you and Theon were left alone for a while in the main room. Your hands finding themselves on your thighs as you almost traced the mark. In another life, you could see the boy looking far more Stark, in the free fields of Winterfell and dark curls around his head instead of where you were.

Hiding in a strangers home from the men who ruined both of your lives, the lives of the North. Dane offered you both his son’s old room, telling you to feel free to sleep in a bit, “Look a little less terrible in a few hours, will ya?”

You both felt bad, sneaking off, taking a horse, but you had no reason to stay here. If the Bolton’s men found you here, they’d kill these two without hesitation. So in the dead of night once more, you both left. Theon pulling you up behind him as the winter air truly started to chill in your bones once more, but it was less panicing and heart racing then last few nights.

“Take three days or so if you ask me. Maybe less if we don’t stop for the night.”

The North felt empty, like most were too afraid to come out anywhere now that it’s control was granted under fear, fear and the murder of the one man keeping the peace. They could include you all they wanted, but you were alive and nothing was any better for the people.

You were alive, and still, you found it difficult to think about where your place was anymore. But you and Theon knew one thing, make it to Castle Black or not, you both stuck by each other’s sides from now on. Birds of broken feathers flock together, or whatever that saying went, you knew abandoning the other after this escape wasn’t an option.

The raven came in, a paper tinged in pink and a letter scrawled out in mania. Addressed to Jon Snow, he had opened it with no idea what it could be, but he did in fact, recognize the flayed man sigil of the Boltons on the seal. As long as the Boltons ruled the North, Jon couldn’t protect any of the North outside of the here and now.

But as he read the letter, and his heart sent into a swirling mess? Something that denied involving himself in the politics of the realm faded out then and there.

“Your false King is dead, bastard. He and all his host were smashed in seven days of battle. Their heads upon the walls of Winterfell. Come see them, bastard. Your false King lied, and you stole from me.”

Your name. Jon read your name, and the heavy grief of your death turned into a burning lie told by those who killed his brother. Killed his brother and said they killed you. But no, you weren’t dead, you were with the Boltons. And even worse, was kept so close to Jon for so long, forced into something else entirely.

“You stole my bride from me, bastard. And I want her back. I want my bride back. I want the false King’s daughter, I want my bride, and you stole from me to take her all for yourself. Send her to me, bastard and I will not trouble you or your black crows. Keep my bride from me, and I will cut out your bastard heart and make her watch.

Ramsay Bolton, Trueborn Lord of Winterfell.”

On one side of the wall in the final break of day, you and Theon could see it. The structure said nine hundred feet in the air. Covered in sleek ice and almost purple in colour during the morning hours of the sun. As you approached though, something inside you felt sick.

Something felt wrong, and something about the way the men at the gates looked hesitant to let you in made you feel like you could faint. Theon had declared your name, widow of Robb Stark, daughter of Stannis Baratheon and Queen in the North. Here to see the Lord Commander Jon Snow.

The looks were worried, and some almost looking devastated at you. The front gates to Castle Black opened, and you couldn’t stop feeling that something was horribly wrong.

The air too, smelled faintly like smoke.

On the other side of the wall, it was still the pitch black dark of night. The man he should’ve sent away, the one he was told to, started it all. Others joined, but it was his face specifically that held the true weight of the actions. The face of the man who had fought him since day one. Most of the faces besides his, some had tears, some regret and most only watched unable to do such a thing themselves.

“I want my bride back,” his thoughts only repeated over and over. The men he knew, some too well, looking at him as Jon fell to his knees, confused. “I want my bride back,” He could still see you in his mind.

His voice whispered, the only thing he could speak out in the stabs against his chest. “Ghost..” The fading dark washed over him, and as his own brothers tearfully put the last knife through his heart, Jon Snow barley felt the pain.

Only the cold.

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