#We're making our own shows around here anymore

[9lives2mics]

What are your thoughts on how to support Melissa going forward?

The Book of Carol has been an absolute disaster for Carol and Melissa fans, and season 3 filming is already underway. Melissa wants to play Carol and she wants to work with Norman, so I want to support her. But I actively don't want to support everything else about what this show is doing to her.

It feels like most fans who are left vocalising their views are the ones who still feel positive about the spin-off. I really want to know more about the thoughts of those of us who are more critical of it, because I just don't know what the best thing is to do here.

Mental health wise, it's probably easier to withdraw from the future of TWDU entirely - to not watch season 3 and to not be invested in it anymore. But again, Melissa is still there, and she needs allies, and she needs people who genuinely respect her to see her for her work. It makes me so sad to think how hard she works and nobody is watching - all because her colleagues have pushed us away.

I just want to hear from more people who care about Melissa about how we're responding, and how we can support her.

Hello, dear Anon. I'm sorry this is affecting your mental health. You're right that Melissa deserves our support. I answered this question in the latest podcast episode.

The condensed version of what I said is that your voice matters. It's easy to feel discouraged sometimes, especially when you're speaking up about something important to you. But if you have the capacity to speak up, now is the time.

The teaser + David Zabel's latest comments continue to show us that he has no intention of giving Daryl and Carol a compelling story. Worse, his writing for Daryl and (especially) Carol is downright disrespectful to the characters.

When you're sharing feedback online, remember to be very specific about what changes need to happen for you to stick around. Center your posts around Melissa and Carol. Talk about why her character is important to you. Here are some pointers to keep in mind.

Please remember to take care of yourself too.

For us, it's important that the leadership changes. It's also important that Melissa McBride gets equal billing, an inclusive title, and a showrunner who respects her character and doesn't write her to be a piece in the male protagonist's story or, worse, doesn't make her pick up the pieces of the male protagonist's story.

Carol Peletier broke stereotypes and gender norms. She was the central focus of some of the highest-rated episodes of TWD. She can draw in audiences from different demographics. She's consistently proven to be one of the most resourceful female characters of the flagship show and beyond. And all of this is because Melissa McBride is an intuitive actress with a rare talent and ability to effortlessly tap into the depths of Carol's psyche. She's also a PR person's dream because she's an eloquent and charming speaker. She has a spotless reputation and the ability to garner audience loyalty that builds the audience base for the creative projects she is a part of.

She deserves respect on her own fucking show.

A showrunner who elevates her and writes compelling stories for Daryl and Carol is the only way to ensure the show's ROI and audience retention. We have no interest in investing in S3 otherwise.

— Shalaka

[captainkurosolaire]

Profile ~ Judas Caesar

☼ Roots ☼

話 "Wind against your back and a stab to the very fate's front." 話 - Full Name: Judas Caesar - Namesday: 3rd Umbral Moon of the 30th Sun - Blood Type: A - Patron Sign: Halone, The Fury. - Gender: Male - Nationality: Island-Born, "Aldeia" - Age: 31 Summers - Height: 6 Fulms 1 Ilms - Weight: 220 Ponze - Build: Athletic Muscular / Lean / Proportional - Voice: ~ (Ref) - Debut Chapter: Passion's Twist - Ancestry: Royal Bloodline - Race:  Hyur: Midlander - Clan: Aldeian - Crew Role: First Crewmate

✯ Core✯

- Alignment: Story-Dependent - Sexuality: Bi - Marital Status: Single - (10) - Personality Traits: Hardworking, Strategic, Reserved, Diplomatic, Deceptive, Disciplined, Inscrutable, Earnest, Conscientious, Caring. - (0-6) - Most Potent Qualities: Strategic, Reserved, Disciplined, Inscrutable, Stoic, Deceptive. - Quirks : Overly Tense, Gets to the Point, Workaholic, Has a Burdensome Goal. Former Betrayer. Questionably Trustworthy. - Weaknesses: Stressed. Anxious. Nearly Impossible to read; Poker Face. Quite serious to a fault. Will work himself to death. Or suffer deprivation. Terrible luck. Distant at First. Sleep Acne, Night Terrors. - Appearance: Striking golden-locks, and sapphire hues, strapping in every-sense a royal model from a glimpse appearance, being quite dashing and pretty often serves against him being unusual in piracy, most can identify he's worth-something; if nothing else a slave or potential blackmail. Even when he's most-rugged and unkempt he's got few blemishes or mismanaged pores. He's exquisitely blessed as if sculpted by the favor of some Goddess. Often adorns himself with little to no-jewelry outside large earrings as memento for when got his ears-pierced alongside his childhood sister in bonding. He dresses primarily like everyday fellow-rogue. Gloves are a must to have donned and always wears sleeved-apparel, he's no-preference on color of attire, but does fancy tight-clothing that are snug against his frame that compliment his build. - Scars: Distinguished Left-Eye Scar, Chest Scar (Faded) - Tattoos: (Left-Hand) Strange Crest. - Piercings: Ears - Primary Residence: Worldly Finder - Wealth: Decent Enough, (Doesn't have claim of Inheritance currently.) - Achievements: Survived near Death from Eternal Sona Flower while also vanquishing the Voidsent dwelling within the Relic; that invades attempts to corrupt the host. Overwhelming it with his sheer ambitious willpower (humanoid spirit). Cowardly Escaped his Home Providence at the behest of his Sister and Mother becoming ensnared and damned by the tyrannical King. Took under an alias known as Parabellum and terrorized as a Slaving-Captain. Until brought to his sense by Solaire. Judas is very gifted at manipulation and portraying himself as another identity quite easily to an unrecognizable-degree, frightening-so. Performs exceptionally well under high-tense situations. Won three champion-cups in Jousting Junior tournaments. - Influence: Runaway Prince of Aldeia First and earliest, Crewmate of the Goldbrand since Captain's reign. - 5 Foods: Lobster, Peppers, Bread, Meatloaf, Stews. - 5 Drinks: Beer, Water, Lemonade, Wine, Ale. - Profession: Diplomatic, Jury-Rigger, Ambassador, Cleaner, Orderly, Negotiator, Delegating, Athletics, Theatrics, Espionage, Manipulation, Planning, Calculating, Analytics, Academic, Horseback Riding. - Hobbies: Juggling, Ballroom Dancing, Organist, Pianist, Calisthenics, Fencing, Acting, Espionage, Puzzles, Hingashi Checkers, Ishgardian Chess, Memory Games. - Experiences: Survivor, Decipher (Maps/Scrolls), EOD Specialist, Planner, Diplomat, Noble, Rogue, Smuggling, Slaving, Strategist, Piracy, Thievery, Espionage. - Favorite Color: Royal Blue - Language: Eorzean Fluently - Prior Mentors: Father, Mother, Older Sister, Kingdom Retainer, Various Instructors.

❤ Relations❤

☝ Allies: (Major Supporters / Family / Friends) Wild Crew TBA ☟ Antagonists: (Rivals - Enemies) Aldeian King - Primary Antagonist Crewmate's Dream & Loyalty Mission: Reclaim his birthplace and siege a near impenetrable castle fortress from a 8th Warlord of the Seas, Tyrannical Devil King. Relationship w/ Captain: (OOC Commentary) Captain serves as sort of a Merlin to a young Arthur to Judas. Searching to guide ferry him to an unfathomable enchanting place but with many perils and difficulty. Judas betrayed Captain in belief of aiding and strengthening him being one of the First people Captain really valued and loved, to turn against him, but Captain was at the time-spinning, losing sight, becoming directionless, acting reckless, if someone tried to stay and be led by that, it's just being condemned with slavery, awaiting pointless death and countless ire of peers. It was easier to betray and cause a mutiny and put-out that fire. There's a chance, Captain could've survived the ordeal and learn from it, forcefully. They've a violently strong-platonic relationship that is more intense than most romances. The former-transgressions always cracks their bridge as-if walking on thin-ice, making them second-guess each-other, things, goals. Trust is the hardest thing to heal, earn-back, forgiveness is not an overnight thing. Both of them made a young-vow-bond to another that cannot be factored out. Judas swears he'll be the wind to Captain's sails, back. While Captain assured he'll be the one who ferries Judas back home and reclaim its Sunlight gathering enough might and influence to overcome the daunting impossible journey they've together. Mount: Mix-Breed Stallion named Griffin. Pets: N/A (Unless count the Black Cat -,-)

❀ Prowess❀

Job: Battle Architect

Judas's Moveset

Wind Aspect: Manipulates air for various usages. His wind control is extremely limited in dry climates only able to use his inner aether. If under too much strain, or sleep-deprived his ability to formulate or spin the wind into his favor can backfire or slack. Most wind-maneuvers he operates, will wound him with recoil-damage, having to bind himself to the same fate. Flight: Using his wind-magic, can fly, levitate, glide to a degree but at the accost of intense concentration, focus, and stamina. He must be well-nourished and healthy, otherwise could plummet to his death. Current-Change: Can localize the change of wind towards his favor or direction freely. If the breeze is coming from the West, he can change it to the East, locally, etc. Insinuation: By funneling wind build up in often scoundrel favored tight-clothing and apparel he wears, Judas can trap air and save it, or balloon himself before blows to absorb impacts, or use that build-up like a leaf-blower to unleash powerful torrent-gusts. Kamikaze Attachment: A particular aetherial made wire that comes laced from his heart linked between an advisory. He can detonate this between them. Activating this lethal-technique, is extremely life-threatening and at the very-most, will cut about Five Years off his lifespan. Howling Dirks: Gyrating-high pressured razor-winds he can hurl projectiles (knives) at velocities that are equivalent to high-pressured bullets. Tornado Fists: Can form intense wind around his fists to forearms, that will rip at his own skin; until bone, but allow him to deliver devastating blows. Duplication: Instantly forges identical knives-sized objects or smaller up to one-three but only per a day. Due to his Crest often concealed underneath gloves. Thread Control: Uses specially near-invisible wires to fight with, creating trip-wires, bindings, that can be enhanced, altered or bend using his wind-aspect. Pick-Up-Delivery: Manifesting wind he can make small-vortex bulbs, that will haul items, projectiles, fallen weaponry scattered and from a battlefield he can disperse things to comrades or himself. Proficiency: Wires, Daggers, Swords, Explosives, Poison, Hand to Hand, Lances. Signature: Demon Trap: Judas attempts to build a spider-web overtime using his wires and will throw around feints, facade attacks, dodging, fighting extremely cowardly. Allowing his opponent to even deliver-blows if necessary until his masterpiece art is crafted. Once his opponent is ensnared, he'll swing wires laced from fingertips, unleashing various cuts all over the opponent from his wires. If that doesn't finish them. He'll send-wind currents through his own wires, should any be still hooked into his opponent, he can drain their very-blood due to the multiple-cuts, from his opponent in a extremely-lethal finish until they're deprived of all their blood, oxygen, life, power. ~ Finishers ~ Limit Break One: N/A Limit Break Two: N/A Limit Break Three: N/A

⚝ Equipment ⚝

Main Arms: Aetheric-Fiber-String-Wires, Steel-Woven Wires, Small-Knives, Poison Coated Wires, Living Detonation Wire. Pouch Containers: Small vials of various poisons. First Aid Kit Small Pouch of Gil (25k) Heirloom Lipstick Multiple Knives/Dirks concealed on his person. (6)

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[thankskenpenders]

At long last, the trailer for Sonic movie 3 is here, giving us our first look at Shadow! It looks like a fun time, though my excitement is probably more tempered than a lot of peoples' due to a few things I have mixed feelings on. Here are my off-the-cuff thoughts about it.

Shadow

Yes, it does seem like they've really nailed Shadow here. Fowler's attachment to the character clearly shows. The action looks cool and really sells Shadow as a serious threat. He's got his bike, he's doing Chaos Control all over the place, it's great. Keanu is very much just doing his regular voice, but it fits well enough. The backstory from SA2 seems to mostly be there, though I'm sure some details will be adjusted. Mostly I'm still just amazed that we're getting a major tentpole blockbuster movie this Christmas starring Shadow the fucking Hedgehog that treats him as a serious character worthy of respect. We've come such a long way...

I mean, just... what an image to see on the big screen.

I also really like the way they're setting Shadow up as a foil for movie Sonic, kind of his dark mirror image as a Mobian hedgehog whose family life on Earth ended in tragedy and turned him into a vengeful antagonist. It's pretty straightforward, but it works well.

Robotnik(s)

Welp. They put Jim Carrey in a fat suit. I suppose we knew this day would come eventually.

I guess a small part of me is glad that movie Eggman finally actually looks like Eggman in every way that matter, but they're completely playing it as a joke at his expense here. And, yeah, the Sonic franchise isn't immune to fat jokes, the early years of the franchise (particularly Western adaptations) gave Sonic tons and tons and tons of jabs about Eggman's weight. But I thought we'd moved past that. But here we are with a depressed movie Robotnik binge eating and gaining a lot of weight like Fat Thor and the other characters think he's so GROSS and look his clothes don't even fit him anymore, haha! There's so much of this crammed into the trailer. I can only pray they don't do this in every fucking scene he's in in the movie.

I do like the plot of Sonic reluctantly teaming up with Robotnik to try and stop Shadow, though. It's very different from SA2, but we knew it would be, and I think that gives the movie some potential for Sonic to have kind of a dark turn of his own that mirror's Shadow's. I have a feeling that Sonic will try to get back at Shadow for something he does - maybe hurting Tom or something like that - and in the end Sonic sympathizes with Shadow and decides they have to stop their cycle of revenge, teaming up to stop some final threat.

Oh, and, of course... Jim Carrey is also playing Professor Gerald. Who might still be alive? Or maybe it's a hallucination on Ivo's part? I don't know, but either way, I'm here for it. Everyone joked about them doing it and then they went and did it. Yes, it risks playing him as a joke character, but the shot of him and Shadow mourning Maria while surrounded by GUN soldiers makes me believe he won't be a total joke. I wouldn't be surprised if he was the true final antagonist of the film, which would diverge a lot from the games but would work as its own version of the story.

And again, WHAT an image to see on the big screen lmao

Everyone else

The human cast is VERY downplayed in this trailer, but let's not forget that they're still going to get a lot of screentime one way or another. The Sonic 2 trailer barely showed anything from Hawaii. Where oh where is my best friend Wade?

Speaking of the Wade show, Knuckles... frankly still seems to be mostly a comic relief character heavily influenced by MCU Thor here, getting some jokes in the trailer but immediately getting Worfed by Shadow when it comes time to fight. Tails seems to be flying the gang around in a real-ass helicopter, and his big pilot's helmet is funny, but otherwise he doesn't really do anything here aside from getting stomped by Shadow. I really hope they don't get sidelined too hard, but frankly I fully expect them to, Tails especially.

And, of course... I can't help but think about who isn't here. Namely: the girls. Yes, three movies and one streaming miniseries into this film franchise, exactly zero of the female (animal) characters from the games have made the jump to live action. Please allow me to bitch about this.

Despite her being both 1) a main character in the game this movie is loosely adapting and 2) my fave, I suppose I can understand why Rouge isn't here. Paramount took one look at that bat cleavage and went "nope," cowards that they are. There was some speculation that Kristen Ritter could be playing Rouge, but we now know she's just playing someone at GUN. But, again, I at least get why they'd be hesitant to include her.

But Amy... Amy is such a glaring omission at this point. There's no excuse. She's the female lead of the franchise. She's one of Sonic's closest friends. (Honestly, these days it's more accurate to say Team Sonic is Sonic, Tails, and Amy, not Knuckles, especially in the comics.) And she's also a key player in Shadow's arc in the game. Shadow has his change of heart because Amy reminds him of Maria! And yet, she's nowhere to be seen. It sucks.

(I know some fans are still holding out hope for Amy, but the toys for the movie already leaked and she didn't get anything, so I have to assume she's not in it.)

It's not like I really expected either of them to be in this movie, but that doesn't make it less disappointing that they set up the film franchise in a way that makes it logistically difficult to include 90% of the characters and conveniently managed to leave all of the girls in the "low priority" pile. Yes, I know everyone points to how much Tails was downplayed in the third act of Sonic 2 as evidence that it's just so impossible to introduce more than one new Mobian character in each movie and give them the focus they deserve. Yes, I know having to come up with a story excuse to bring more characters over to Earth is an obstacle, especially when they're gonna have to devote time to Shadow's backstory. But these are excuses. It's a writer's job to figure out solutions to problems like this. They could make it work if they really wanted to. I'd take Amy having a suboptimal amount of screentime over her not being in it at all. It's just not a priority for them. That's what disappoints me. You can justify these absences from a logical perspective, but I just care way more about Amy and Rouge as characters than I do about Shadow, so there's no way for this to not sting.

But, at the end of the day, for what the movie is actually trying to do, it seems to be pulling it off well. Aside from the fat jokes. I don't like the fat jokes. But the Shadow stuff is good. As always, this live action version of the franchise is never going to be my ideal version of Sonic, but it's turned out far better than it had any right to, and I'll probably have fun when I go see this in theaters and hear Live and Learn.

[cera-writes]

can you do a story gambit where reader is a mutant or just has the power to either travel through the multiverse or see into different universes and she’s in a relationship with remy and she sees that gambit and rogue are together in every universe except theirs and reader ignores him because she thinks that they should be together so basically some angst and shes comforted by remy maybe some smut? 🤗💕

A/N: thanks for requesting this! This was such an interesting prompt and I had fun writing it! Pairing: Remy LeBeau x F!Reader Tags: nsfw, angst, comfort/hurt, sweet reassuring smut

In this Universe

You stand in the dimly lit room, your eyes fixed on the swirling portal that connects to countless alternate realities. The air around you crackles with energy, a tangible reminder of the power coursing through your veins—the power to see and traverse the multiverse. Your partner, Remy LeBeau, stands beside you, his hand resting reassuringly on your shoulder. His eyes, though masked by the shadows, betray a concern that mirrors your own inner turmoil.

"Qu'est-ce qui te tracasse, chere?" Remy's voice is soft, tinged with his usual Creole accent that still managed to wrap around your heart like a warm and inviting embrace.

You hesitate, torn between sharing your recent discovery and the fear it might shatter the fragile peace you've built together. "I... I've been seeing things, Remy. In other universes."

His grip tightens slightly, encouraging you to continue. "Go on, tell Remy."

"In every universe I've seen, you and Rogue are... together. Always." The words hang heavy in the air, laden with unspoken implications.

Remy's expression remains calm, but you can sense the undercurrent of tension. "And what does dat mean fo' us here?"

You turn to face him, searching his eyes for any hint of what he might be feeling. "It means... maybe we're not meant to be together. Maybe our story was written for someone else."

A muscle ticks in his jaw, but his voice remains steady when he speaks. "So, you think we should jus' give up because some versions of us didn't make it work?"

The question stings, not because of its sharpness, but because of its accuracy. You sigh, looking back at the portal. "I don't know what to think anymore."

Remy steps closer, tilting your chin up so you meet his gaze. "Listen to Remy, chere. Our love, it's real. It's ours. Not some borrowed fairytale from another world."

You want to believe him, to cling to the warmth of his words, but the images from those other universes keep flashing through your mind—Rogue and Gambit, laughing, fighting, loving. "What if we're just living out someone else's destiny?"

Remy shakes his head, his eyes burning with an intensity that surprises you. "No. Dis, us, it's ours to shape. Ours to fight for."

You feel a tear slip down your cheek, caught off guard by the depth of emotion in his response. "But how can we be sure?"

He brushes the tear away with his thumb, his touch gentle yet firm. "Cause I choose you, every day. And Gambit'll keep choosing you, no matter what those other worlds show."

His words resonate within you, stirring something deep and primal. "Remy..."

Before you can finish, he presses his lips to yours, a fierce declaration of intent that leaves no room for doubt. The kiss is passionate, desperate, as if he's trying to imprint himself upon you, to drown out the visions of other realities with the reality of his love.

When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with desire, his breath coming fast. "Let's make our own story, chere. One dat those other worlds will envy."

You nod, your resolve strengthening with each beat of your heart. "

"Please." You needed the distraction desperately to keep from coming apart at the seams. You needed him to ground you and make you really believe that this was your universe with him and that's all that mattered, otherwise, you don't think you could handle anymore of these visions.

"I'm right here, chere." He squeezed your hand.

Together, you turn back to the portal, hand in hand, ready to confront whatever challenges lie ahead, united in your decision to forge your own path, regardless of the echoes from parallel worlds.

You grip Remy's hand tightly as you step into the swirling portal, the sensation of being pulled apart and reassembled in a different reality washing over you like a tidal wave. The colors blur and merge, creating a kaleidoscope of visions that threaten to overwhelm your senses.

"Focus on me, chere," Remy's voice cuts through the chaos, steady and reassuring. You lock eyes with him, allowing his presence to anchor you as the world around you shifts and morphs.

Suddenly, the disorientation ceases, and you find yourselves standing in a lush, overgrown garden. The air is thick with the scent of blooming flowers, and the soft hum of insects fills the silence. You look around, recognizing this place—it's one of the alternate realities you've seen before, where Gambit and Rogue are deeply in love.

Remy seems to sense your unease. "Show Gambit what troubles you," he murmurs, leading you deeper into the garden.

As you walk, the scenery changes subtly, transforming into a scene from your visions. There, under a weeping willow, stands Gambit and Rogue, their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace. Your hands start to shake as anxiety takes over again. The sight stings, but before you can turn away, Remy pulls you close.

"Look at dem, but see us," he whispers against your ear, his breath warm and comforting. "Feel how our hearts beat as one."

You close your eyes, focusing on the solidity of Remy's body pressed against yours, the steady rhythm of his heart matching your own. When you open your eyes again, the vision of Gambit and Rogue fades, replaced by the vivid reality of Remy's intense gaze.

"I see only you," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

Remy smiles, a flicker of relief softening his features. "Good. Now, lemme show you why Gambit chose you."

He leads you to a secluded clearing, where the grass is soft and inviting. The sunlight filters through the leaves overhead, dappling the ground with golden light. Remy kneels, gently pulling you down with him.

"Here, in dis place dat isn't ours, we'll make it ours," he says, his hands tracing the curve of your waist. His touch sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burns brighter than any multiverse illusion.

You reach up, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. His lips meet yours in a searing kiss that speaks of promises and possession. The world around you melts away, leaving only the two of you, locked in a battle for dominance and surrender.

Remy's hands roam freely, exploring every inch of your body with a reverence that makes you arch into his touch. "You're beautiful," he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough with desire.

You gasp as his teeth graze your neck, marking you as his. "Remy," you breathe, your need rising like a tide.

He looks up, his eyes dark with passion. "Say it again, chere. My name," he commands, his voice a low growl.

"Remy," you repeat, more urgently this time, your body aching for more.

With a groan, he presses you back against the grass, his body covering yours. The weight of him feels perfect, grounding you in this stolen moment of reality. It almost doesn't feel real. His kisses trail down your throat, his hands mapping your curves with possessive strokes.

"You're mine," he asserts, punctuating each word with a sharp nip to your skin. "In every universe, you're mine."

The intensity of his declaration sends a thrill through you, fueling your own hunger. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him closer. "Prove it," you challenge, your voice husky with arousal.

Remy grins, a feral spark lighting his eyes. "With pleasure, ma chere."

He shifts, aligning himself with your core, and with one powerful thrust, he shears through your barriers, claiming you completely. You cry out, a mix of pain and ecstasy ripping through you as he fills you, joining your souls in a union that transcends the multiverse.

"Y-yes... yes!" you pant, clawing at his back, desperate to feel every part of him.

Remy moves inside you, his strokes deep and relentless, each thrust a testament to his devotion. "Look at me," he demands, forcing you to meet his gaze. "See only me, darlin'."

You do, your vision blurring with tears of joy as you drown in the crimson and black of his eyes. "Always," you promise, your voice breaking with emotion.

His pace quickens, driving you both towards the precipice. "Together," he gasps, his forehead resting against yours. "Forever."

With a final, powerful surge, he pushes you over the edge, your bodies convulsing in unison as waves of pleasure crash over you. You cling to each other, bodies slick with sweat, hearts pounding in sync.

"Ours," Remy breathes, collapsing beside you, his chest heaving with exertion.

You turn to face him, your fingers tracing the contours of his face. "Ours," you agree, sealing your pact with a tender kiss.

As you lie there, wrapped in each other's arms, the garden around you begins to fade, the portal calling you back to your own reality. But for now, you're content to stay lost in this stolen moment, secure in the knowledge that no matter the multiverse, your love will always find its way home.

[bloominglegumes]

judging earthspark s3

contains spoilers!!!

(my own opinion + not that serious :))

not in order bc i sketch-wrote these down while watching first but guys im so im so .head in hands

-15 pts for the character development, relationships, ideas, etc set up in s1 that were thrown out in s2 and s3. war trauma, immigrant experience, ghost aftermath, individuality, healing process, autobot guilt, byebye. so much character assassination still happening

+1 for following through i guess

+1 shockwave 'all are dead' comic cover reference and having him react to it

+5 every appearance of frenzy and laserbeak. theyre professional hecklers i love them

-1 bc of how the art direction was already established having 2d handdrawn effects but obv their animation has been toned down, there are quite a few instances of 3d smoke made to look like 2d shading which is not necessarily bad on its own but doesnt feel like it fits here

+1 rage virus had nice potential for bringing simmering resentments to surface,, wish the show delved deeper into the characters thoughts + fallout

-1 megatron's va sounds like he was given direction to hold back somehow on his delivery ?? idk it just feels like forced gentleness compared to earlier performance like his lines don't fit him

-2 animation lacking feeling of weight, movements are stiff, unnatural esp for huge guys made of metal. how in the world did twitch push megatron over

-2 fight choreo is more generic and plain,, characters tend to fight in similar ways when they wouldnt, considering different sizes, abilities, personalities etc,, everyone is just tossing each other around

-2 teasing us with breakbee and then actually setting it on fire and then killing bumblebee's personality too and while we're here thrash and mo as well

+1 escape room ep overall was kinda fun. i like the idea of leaning into twitchs big sister role but like u dont have to water down the others when highlighting one character?? the maltos are kids, but theyre not like.stupid

+1 optimus pushing megatron down to protect him and megs glancing down where optimus' hand is on him. someone in story room is pushing megop

+1 prowl being a skilled Hater on entrance

+1 "organics" (derogatory)

-1 optimus tells prowl that the war is over in defence of megatron but literally theyre fighting decepticons again two seconds later so make up your mind earthspark

-5 what are the autobots and decepticons even fighting for at this point? let's shoot them into space so we don't have to worry about that conflict anymore except megatron but he's our friend so don't think about that trust us this is earthspark our show was formed on the basis of being the aftermath of the war hasbro im going to kill you

+1 constructicon mention

+3 prowl being huggable and pickuppable (+1 optimus, +1 elita, +1 arcee)

+1 "terran thrash" "terran nightshade" "stygi-terran" "clan malto" can't tell me thats not objectively cute

+5 blaster feature

+2 megop being deeply embarrassing about robby's weird girlfriend

+5 dramatic megop fight. intense music, personal arguments, falling through the ice sinking to the bottom of the lake together, if i'm going down you're coming with me etc i love it

-1 grimmy not having a single speaking line?? am i tripping

+1 thrash throwing the hat perfectly onto prowls antler tip

-2 duller lighting and colours overall </3 my guy was seriously looking grey in ep 6..,.

+1 "romantic entanglements have hobbled many a soldier. ask optimus." thank u es writers

+1 "there are no implications. there are only facts." banger

+1 multiple pronouns used for the shapeshifting quintesson i just thought it was fun

-1 thrash's character being largely reduced to That One Kid

-1 might just be me but the whole plot with the fake girlfriend was just weird as hell ?? what purpose does it have in robby's character development,,,

-1 dot and alex being less compelling as caring responsible parents. like they're still nice,, but the way they've been written just feels less careful

-1 that movie and confession scene sorry i know it was on purpose but i could not handle the secondhand embarrassment

+1 mole-bots tbh i thought they were going to pull scraplets but they were fun

-4 starscream neglect. where is the justice. nothing but a silhouette all season and then finally all he does is go crazy and get pulled back to jail??wtf

+1 quintesson ship entrance

-1 generic character body language/performance

+1 weird al yankovic going so hard

+1 saving civilians

-2 quintus powers being suddenly able to save the day when they need it because plot

-2 how the chaos terrans are not written

-1 environments are sometimes not that fitting for the action taking place there?? like for the final fight i know theyd need a lot of space for the titan but seriously just a green grassy field and blue sky come on?? give us some artistry,..,.

-1 slightly weird voice effects for quintesson characters but that might just be me

+1 sharkticon pit plucked right out of g1 movie i love it

+1 mo being so polite "mr optimus" "ms elita" "mr prowl sir" sweetheart

+5 what the fuck do you mean "i appreciate you, megatron"

+1 hard confirmation prowl is a hugger

+1 epic titan fusion

+1 prowl being nice. dialogue with bee in that scene felt kind of in your face but it was cute

-1 arresting starscream. girlie was probably starving in there

+1 "little bird"

+1 i'm just happy to have an animated prowl having so much relevance to the main story again.tfa prowl i miss u every day

-2 tarantulas never being seen nor heard from ever again. he had an awesome design, fantastic voice acting, super well written just for hasbro to be cowards

-1 again for just dropping pretty big story points from season 1 for unclear reasons. like i said,, current state of earthspark works fine as a kid's show alone but after how mature and well-handled season 1 was it feels like watching the tv spinoff series to the actual thing. sorry but like zero integrity to the shows basis and values and what the original writing had set up for the world and the characters

[delusional-dinosaurr]

We're Moving Too Fast...Aren't We? (Guro Reiten x Reader)

You're enjoying a night out, on a rooftop bar with a few other WSL clubs, and your own team, Arsenal. It was WSL tradition to throw a big party in London for the end of season, usually this is only the major clubs as the others struggle to get to grips with near relegation. Today's team attendees were yourselves at Arsenal, Chelsea, Spurs, The Manchesters and Villa. 

"Come ooooon Y/N it's time to dance" Your mate Victoria Pelova slurs at you. You approach her and steady her with your arms. 

"Think that's enough to drink now Vic, don't want you vomiting over the carpet in our house" You smile, helping her find a chair and some water, Viv takes over on 'motherly duties' so you can walk away and be with the others. 

"Going on the pull tonight Y/N?" Alex Scott nudges your side. She always gets an invite alongside many other retired players, a lot are still very close friends with the teams they played for. 

"Nah, you know that's not my thing anymore" You wink at her. 

"Y/N I've seen you kissing multiple girls on the same night, why not here!" Leah nudges you. 

"I don't like to mix business with pleasure" you joke, asking the bartender for another glass. “For the record, that was a joke. I’m not like that anymore, I’ve matured from the partygirl I was when I was 19! Magda helped a lot with that”.

"Well at least flirt around a bit, it's always fun to watch how quickly you work your magic" Leah says, convincingly. 

"If you need tips on how to pull you could've just asked Lee" You tease. "but fine, I'll do it, what harm can it do". 

"Okay challenge for tonight, a Chelsea girl" Alex wiggles her eyebrows at you, both you and Leah visibly shudder at the word 'Chelsea'. 

"For one night fine, but mark my words, you'll never find me dating or sleeping with a Chelsea girl" You shake your head walking over to the dancefloor drink in hand. 

You dance with a few of your friends, one of those being Magda, even if she is still Chelsea through and through she was like a mother figure to you during your loan spell at Linköpings when you were much younger. She sees you glancing around and stops you with her hand on your chest, letting out what seemed to be a sigh.

"Y/N... Really? I thought you grew out of this during your year in Sweden with me" She smacks your shoulder.

"It's for Leah's entertainment,and for a bet… and it's a Chelsea girl" You shudder again, making Magda laugh and nudge you.

"Well here's some advice. They don't like the gunners and wouldn't want to flirt with one, but I've heard Guro, Niamh and Jessie all say something somewhat nice about you" She sighs, gesturing over to the girls.

"It's only some flirting to show Leah I'm better at flirting than her" You offer a small smile "Promise I won't be sleeping around or trying to get with one of them" she holds out her pinky, which you interlock yours with hers.

You dance over to the Chelsea girls and greet them somewhat politely, getting hugs from all three.

"You guys had an insane season, congratulations" You hold your drink up to them, which they do in response as you all sip your drinks.

"So what brings you over here?" Jessie elbows you.

"My girls are boring or waaaaay too drunk to be dancing with me" you chuckle, sliding up a bit closer to the group.

“Reckon you’ll ever play for us Y/N?” Niamh smirks at you cheekily.

“Absolutely not, you won't catch me dead in a Chelsea shirt” You grimace, causing the three girls to laugh at your response. “Now what about you guys wearing a Y/L/N shirt to an Arsenal match one day in support of the better team?”.

“Not a chance” Guro says, rolling her eyes.

“I bet I can get you wearing an Arsenal shirt to one of my matches by the end of this year, in support of me” You smirk at Guro. Jessie and Niamh seem to be deep in another conversation with Magda and Pernille to the side, leaving you to work your magic like you told your friends you would do.

“It’s so on, if you fail, you can wear a Reiten shirt at one of our matches, I’ll get you front row seats so you can admire the view” She winks holding out her hand which you shake, sealing your bet.

“Oh believe me I am enjoying the view already” You look at her eyes and give her a soft smile.

“Wait a second…are you doing what I think you’re doing?” She questions.

“Depends on if you like it or not” You mumble, suddenly feeling slightly nervous. This was unlike your usual behaviour when it came to flirting. As you’re feeling the nerves you look into her eyes and feel yourself melt slightly at the soft look she’s giving you.

“And what if I do like it?” She says in a more suggestive tone “Is this the great Y/N getting nervous? Never thought I’d see the day”. “If you do like it, then I’d suggest we take this to the dance floor” You nod over to the dancefloor where many of your friends are dancing together. “Oh and I don’t get nervous, even if it’s a beautiful woman like you”. You whisper in her ear and see a very faint blush on her face. You smile to yourself as you both walk to the dancefloor hand in hand. 

You dance together for a while, still engaging in conversation with each other. As the night goes on the drinks continue flowing and you feel yourself getting more and more confident, making somewhat bolder moves and both getting drunker.

━━━━━

“åh herregud!” You hear as your eyes shoot open. “What the hell, why are you here?”. 

You look around and have absolutely no idea where you are, apart from the fact Guro Reiten is sat up next to you in a bed that you’re both sharing.

“It’s okay, we’re fine” You calm her down. “Now, how the hell did we get here? Where are we?”

“My apartment, and I have no idea how we got here together” She sighs, you admire her morning hair, messily laying on her shoulders. The light coming in through the blinds of her room makes her eyes glisten and skin glow. Wait what?

“Okay question one, do you live here alone?” You ask her, she shakes her head. “Oh my god you have a girlfriend? Shit I’m so sorry, fuck, I should go” You panic and start standing up to get ready to leave. “No you idiot, I share a house with Erin and Niamh” She drags you back down. “My question for you is, what do you think we did last night?”.

“Well from the fact we are both still pretty much in last night's clothes, not a lot” You chuckle, walking over to her mirror “Although I don’t remember me having these yesterday” you narrow your eyes at her in the reflection in the mirror whilst pointing at the trail of hickeys on your neck, causing her to blush. 

“It could’ve been anyone!” She says with her eyes wide.

“Considering I woke up in your bed, I’m very sure on who it was” You roll your eyes. You sit in silence for a few seconds, both getting your bearings on what happened, how and what you’re gonna do to get away with it.

“Do you actually remember much from last night?” She asks you, leaning back against the mattress, you follow her lead and lay next to her. Her shirt has risen slightly from her flopping onto the bed and you can’t help but admire her body. “Eyes up here Y/LN” she smirks as you quickly snap your eyes back up to hers.

“I remember enough to have a good understanding of why I’m here. For the record, Leah and Alex dared me to pull a Chelsea player but as soon as we started talking that all went out the window” You break eye contact, your nerves get the better of you until you feel a hand gently moving your chin to force you back into eye contact with her.

“I guessed that after you snuck your way over to our table, they were watching you the whole time. I also really enjoyed time with you Y/N, I can make myself nice and free today if you want to re-do last night… but with less alcohol please” She says holding her stomach, you nod back enthusiastically.

“I can run home and grab my car? I can drive us somewhere if you like, as it seems we only live around the corner from each other!” You say excitedly. “That and I need to try to sneak in without waking up Vic and Gio, that’s going to be a nightmare”.

“Meet me outside in an hour? That gives me time to freshen up and look less like I had a night with an Arsenal player” She fake heaves, you roll your eyes in response and walk to the door of her room.

“WAIT” She grabs your hand “I think the girls are downstairs, let me distract them and I’ll say Cereal when you’re clear to escape” She says walking out the room. You sneak down quietly and hide around a corner from the girls.

“No I didn’t sleep with Y/N! Jesus Erin, you’ll never catch me with a gooner” She laughs. You hear a gasp from Niamh, instantly you feel that dreadful feeling of being caught.

“Did she do this?” Niamh continues fussing over Guro “In all seriousness I’m proud of you for getting some Guro, it’s about time”.

“Ugh, can we stop talking about her now, have we got any cereal in the kitchen or did you eat it all Erin?” Guro says, you notice the codeword and slowly make your way to the front door of the house and manage to escape barely making a noise. Rather than the walk of shame, you opt for an Uber home rather than walking for 10 minutes, still unable to fight that nauseous feeling. 

When you arrive home you open the door to find Vic passed out on the floor in the living room, you start making her a coffee to help her with the wake up, alongside some painkillers. You lift her gently off the floor and place her on the sofa whilst making her drink, she starts waking up too thankfully.

“Morning Y/N, still wearing last night's clothes?” She jokes.

“Didn’t even make it to my bed, you’re expecting me to go through all that effort to get dressed too?” You lie.

“Morning you two” Gio sings as she walks in with a starbucks in hand.

“Where were you, young lady?” You joke, hands on hips.

“Oh I stayed at Katherine’s, I can see you two got home safe?” Gio says looking over at you both still in last night's clothes. 

“Oh yeah, I got in a little after this one, but all in one piece!” You say nudging Vic. 

“God how drunk was I? I don’t even remember getting home, bet it was Viv” Vic sighs. You sigh, relieved that your housemates have no suspicions of you staying out last night.

“Anyway as much as I love you both, I need to get out of these clothes, and get some shopping done” You say.

“Can I come?” Vic asks.

“Nope, unless you really want to go with me to test out which guitar I want for 3 hours” You smirk.

“Nevermind, I’d rather sit at home eating ice cream” She kisses you on the cheek as she walks off to the kitchen with the coffee you made her, you make your way up to your room. As you get dressed after your shower, there’s a gentle knock on your door. 

“What? I already said I’m going guitar shopping!” You grumble. “It’s me” You hear Gio on the other side “Are you decent?” you open the door for her to come in, you’ve not put a shirt on yet but have your sports bra on.

“Now, Vic may believe your lies, but I do not. Where were you last night?” She squints at you.

“I’m not lying, I was at home just after Vic” You shrug, Gio chuckles.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I won’t tell on you, but I can tell” She gives you a soft smile.

“But..how? You weren’t even home?” You sigh.

“One, you set off our ring doorbell with motion just now. I’ve deleted the recording of you fumbling your way in earlier. Two, your neck tells me a different story” She smirks poking at one of the dark red marks “Now I’ll keep your secret safe, on one condition. You tell me who it was”. 

“You know I love you right?” You look at her guiltily, again she gives you her squinted look. “It was a Chelsea player”.

“I can’t believe you! I don’t even care who it is! If the team finds out you’re so fucked” Gio gasps. You throw a shirt on and get ready to leave whilst Gio is still fussing about your ordeal.

“You’re meeting up with her, aren’t you?” She smirks.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not” You say whilst still grabbing your stuff to go.

“Listen, if you’re thinking what I’m thinking… This is massively out of your normal behaviour. The Y/N Y/L/N doesn’t do dates. So this is clearly something special. I promise I won’t tell anyone, and I can’t wait for you to tell me all about your date later” Gio wraps you in a tight hug and kisses your cheek. “Now go get your girl!” She smacks your back.

You jog out of the house yelling a ‘bye’ and ‘love you’ to your housemates. You get in your car and drive to Guro’s apartment. As you pull up outside you see her having an animated conversation with Erin and Niamh and lower the window slightly to hear the conversation.

“No Erin, it's not some random creep I’ve met. I promise she’s really nice” Guro groans.

“I trust you, but I don’t trust her. Let me meet her. Is that her now?” She points directly at your car and starts walking towards it alongside Guro and Niamh. You decide to hop out of the car and greet them.

“Absolutely not, not a chance. Guro why a gooner!” Erin groans. You two have hung out a few times together post Chelsea and Arsenal matches so you are on good speaking terms.

“Hey nothing wrong with us!” You joke back smiling at Erin.

“Right, I’m going all protective on you now” She nudges Guro to get in your car whilst you two talk. “What are your intentions with Guro, and what happened last night?”.

“I had a feeling this was coming” You sigh “I know I have this history, but that’s all it is now. My intentions with Guro however? I don’t even know, but I do know I will treat her with the respect she deserves. I’m sorta new to this whole going on a date thing and I’m super nervous and I really like her…and now I’m rambling” You blush, Erin starts grinning, Niamh gives a nod.

“Our protective duties are done. She’s all yours. I trust you Y/N” Erin gives you a hug. 

“But you didn’t even let me tell you what happened last night?” You question.

“Ah we don’t need to know, because I let you two and Niamh in last night. You were like giggly schoolgirls. You and I had to carry Guro up the stairs and that was a disaster, followed by us doing the same for Niamh. I was only joking about being protective, I know you care, even if it has only been one day of getting to know her and for the record, I had a feeling you guys would hit it off one day” She winks. You laugh and have a small conversation with the two of them before leaving for your date with Guro.

“Have fun you two! But not too much, yeah?” Niamh jokes as you start pulling the car away. As you get on the road you put your playlist on in the car and sit comfortably in Guro’s company.

“What did they say to you?” She asks, looking over to you. You keep your eyes on the road.

“Well, they went all protective, I rambled, turns out Erin let us and Niamh in last night and we carried you up the stairs, and then had to carry Niamh too. Now she thinks she’s cupid as she expected us to get on well” You chuckle, Guro groans.

“I swear to God she’s so annoying” Guro whines. “What did you ramble about?”.

“You” You say quietly.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t quite hear you” She teases.

“You know what I said. You, I rambled about you. How this is all very new to me and even if it has been less than 24 hours I already really care about you and think you deserve the world” You ramble “Look what you’ve done I’m rambling again!” You grumble.

“Well I think it’s cute” both you and Guro start blushing. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever be such a mess for someone.

━━━━━

"...and that's how I missed the Derby last year" You chuckle as Guro laughs along. 

"To think I thought it was a sport related injury, not tripping down the stairs drunk trying to chase Frida" She laughs. You stir your coffee and admire her, you find yourself getting lost in her eyes once again. 

"You know, you aren't all that bad Y/LN" Guro smiles, placing a hand on yours. 

"Same with you, Reiten" You give her hand a squeeze. 

"I don't wanna go back to the girls after this, I'm gonna get quizzed" Guro groans. 

"You can always come over to mine? Vic and Gio will be home but we can order some food in and chill?" You offer, she nods in response. 

━━━━━

You open your door and you're hit with silence, either they're in their rooms or out. 

"The coast is clear, go go go" you say, dragging Guro in. Luckily you were right, neither of your housemates were home. Your phone vibrates in your pocket. 

Gio - GURO REITEN?! 

As you both settle on your sofa you respond to Gio. 

Y/N - Damn doorbell… Just a friend x

Gio - Liar. Keep your naughty business to your room please, we will be home soon (I didn't tell Vic)❤️

You sigh as you lock your phone, look at Guro who's also looking at your phone. 

"Just a friend?" Guro looks at you. 

"Well… I didn't wanna put a label on it, that's a lot of pressure for us" You mumble. 

"Well I don't wanna just be your friend Y/N" She strokes your cheek "I like this side of you, nervous, caring and a real charmer".

"I try, I try" You chuckle "But in all seriousness, I feel the same. How about… Dating?" You suggest.

"As long as that means I can do this…" She leans in and kisses you, you get carried away until you hear the door being unlocked, you both run up the stairs and hide from your housemates who luckily didn't spot you. 

"That was a close one" Guro breathes out heavily.

You hear a hello downstairs from someone you didn't expect. 

"Oh my god Frida's home from visiting her girlfriend!" You instantly jump up "I'll be right back! FRIDA FRIDA FRIDA" you run down the stairs yelling and jump into your best friend's arms. 

"Oh hello Y/N, I missed you too" Frida laughs, hugging you tightly. "Where are the other two?". 

"They went out, they'll be back soon though!" You smile "You should probably unpack and shower, I'll leave you to it!" you say as you run back up to your room. Guro is just sitting on your bed, admiring your room and looking at your medals and awards. 

"Enjoying yourself?" you smile, she nods. You pass her your phone with your local Chinese takeaway menu on it so she can pick what she wants, once you order you cuddle on the bed just chatting quietly. 

"I can't believe I'm dating an Arsenal player" Guro groans. 

"I'd be honoured too" You smirk. 

"You're never getting me to wear your shirt, national team maybe but Arsenal it's a hard pass" She kisses your cheek. 

"What would it take to get you to wear an Arsenal shirt" You ask her. 

"Hmmm" she taps her chin thinking. You smirk and lean in to kiss her. "That won't work but it'll help your case". You connect your lips and carry on from where you left off downstairs. You lean over her and kiss her from above her, it continues getting fairly heated, quiet moans, shaky breaths. 

"Hey Y/N your food is…. WOOOAH! I am so sorry! I didn't know you had someone up here… wait GURO?!" Frida shrieks. 

“I would say it’s not what it looks like but… yeah” You sigh as you roll off Guro.

“Y/N, a word please? In private” Frida says, waving you out of the room and shutting the door. “Okay you know I love you a lot. But Guro has been through a lot, don’t play around with her, be honest and open and you’ll be fine”.

“Frida trust me, I don’t ever want to hurt her. Yeah it’s a lot for only a day of getting to know eachother, but there’s a connection we have and I can’t explain it. Ever since I first played against her a few years back I always felt nervous seeing her. She’s just so pretty and I used to find her somewhat intimidating. I wanted to get her attention but I knew she had a girlfriend and it’d just be seen as me doing ‘a Y/N’. Main reason I stopped partying and messing about, and she doesn’t even know it.” You ramble.

“Y/N…you really do care about her don’t you? I remember the last match you played Norway that you went all blushy when you did a shirt swap with her. It all makes sense! Y/N has a loooover” Frida sings.

“Shut uuuup!” You groan. “Now can I get back to my girlfriend but not girlfriend?” You whine.

“Yep, but on one condition, you tell the team when you’re official. Both teams that is” She smirks.

“Deal” You say as you open your bedroom door to go back in. 

“Come sort out your food you two, or I’m stealing your spring rolls” Frida yells up the stairs. You instantly spring off the bed.

“NOOOOO!” You run down the stairs and tackle Frida, with Guro following behind, removing you from your friend and pinning you down.

“Traitor! You’re a traitor!” You say towards Guro.

“Us Norwegians stick together” Frida fist bumps Guro and you scowl at them.

You hear a commotion at the door followed by your other housemates walking in. 

“Oh. My. God. We have a Chelsea player in our house, this feels so wrong” Gio jokes, going to greet Guro “I’m Gio, but you can call me Y/N’s worst nightmare”. Guro laughs and gives Gio a small hug. Followed by Vic. The two had brought home food for them and Frida so you all sit on the sofas and eat your food, engaging in chatter. 

“Guro, why her though” Frida whines.

“Hey I heard her ramble to you through the door, I think just that alone was self explanatory” Guro shrugs, your eyes go wide. Guro hugs into your side. 

"I never thought I'd see Y/N with a girlfriend. You're so happy and it's barely been a day" Vic grins.

“Yeah well, get used to it” You smile leaning more into Guro.

After a few hours of chatting, eating and watching shows your housemates decide to call it a night.

“I should probably get going, I’ve got training in the morning” Guro sighs, with a sad smile on her face “I had a lot of fun Y/N, I’m really glad we did have the guts to have a drunk sleepover”.

“Me too, how about I give you a lift home? That or you can always stay for the night? I’ve got some spare clothes and I can take you home in the morning and give you a lift to training, I have no plans tomorrow so I don’t mind hel-” You ramble until Guro breaks it with a gentle kiss. 

“If it helps you stop rambling, I’ll stay tonight. How about we go out for dinner tomorrow…its a team dinner with partners at Chelsea so you’re more than welcome to go with me, that’s if you’d want to do that” She blushes. You nod in response.

“We aren’t moving too fast are we?” You chuckle “Because if so, I don’t care”.

“I think we’ve both had our eye on each other for a while, so I guess we are just making up for lost time” Guro smiles, squeezing your hand as you stifle a yawn. 

“Right you, let’s go to bed” She pulls you upstairs.

━━━━━

Part 2 is already in the works :)

[appleblueberry-pie]

I love yall, and I know I haven't been writing on here...but like what happened to being descriptive in our writing? I feel the effects of communism reaching the fingertips of the only group of writers who still (gladly) bother to give energy into this website. I barely do much, and I barellyyy give anything at all nowadays but without the explanations of anything going on, how are people new to this supposed to understand where ur coming from? I wanna feel the emotion in your story. I want you to tell your tale and i wanna feel what all those characters feel.

Im being given like literal scraps right now. All I see are what could pass as a description of what a book is about and then yall call it a day like whatttt that's not what we're here for. At all. I wanna feel what your brain felt when u wrote that one sentence. Description isn't just meant for smut, its meant for all forms of writing.

The best example I could give is with what I do best, yandere stories(sorry). Jujutsu kaisen(sorry to other Fandoms but what I'm saying does apply to everyone).

Yandere Gojo kidnapped you after you found out he was stalking you for over a week now. You don't even know him like that. He's just your coworker for crying out loud. But now you're trapped in his home for his to have, to take care of. And you can't do anything about it.

.........................okay??? Where's the rest? Why did he kidnap you? What drove him to take you in the first place? He had enough? Did he NOT have enough and just took you entirely out of sad guilty pleasure? Is he a loser that depends on you without realizing it? How does the reader feel about it?? Why isn't there anything about how the reader feels about any part of this?

What about buildup to the kidnapping? The mental work-up to that big moment? Where's the intention behind the language he speaks to you, the love he gives in every move he makes directed towards you, where's the devotion and care he shows in every touch he gives to you? Where's the absolute opposite of that care when he's around anyone that's not you?

Where is this character that you're proposing to us?

It's just hard for me to read anything when no one's....idk it just feels like no one enjoys their own writing anymore. I get everyone's busy, and they still post every now and then. And that's me. Im so fucking busy. But it's just like, somethings off. I wish I could find good writing again.

[natsgrave]

TOLERATE IT | elizabeth olsen

while you were out building other worlds, where was i? you assume i'm fine, but what would you do if i break free and leave us in ruins? ( story inspired by @taylorswift song bcs i love her sm ) i'm not sure if someone else already wrote something like this or what, but if you see a story quite similar to this, let me know so i could give them a proper credit. thankyou!! ( colored wording would be the lyrics ) i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime!! masterlist whispers of heartache m.list

Y/N'S POV Lizzie and I had been together for five years. We met in college, fell deeply in love, and spent countless nights talking about our dreams and aspirations. We were each other's rock, supporting each other through thick and thin.

But how can a perfect relationship turn into a toxic one where we barely talk anymore?

I sit and watch you reading with your head low

I don't know what happened. I don't know how to fix it, it that I didn't even know exist. One second we were fine then the next, we're like strangers.

All I could do is sit here and watch her read the script for her new movie. Reading with her head low and sitting far away from me, almost as if I have a disease. As if there's an invisible wall between us.

We would always sit in silence, her pretending to watch TV or read books, but the tension between us was palpable. I know she could feel my eyes on her, but she never spared me a glance. It was as if she was avoiding me intentionally.

Minutes ticked by, and I decided to make her food. After making anchovy, I gently touch her on the shoulder. She jumped, startled, and looked up to find me standing next to her, holding out a plate.

"I made you your favorite," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Anchovy toast."

Lizzie took the plate from my hand, "Thank you." she replied before looking back at the script once again.

I simply nodded and sat down where I originally sitting, and focused on my own hands folded in my lap with a sigh.

I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes close. I sit and watch you, I notice everything you do or don't do, you're so much older and wiser

I woke up around five in the morning, the sun hadn't completely risen yet, but the little lighting shone through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. My gaze fell upon my girlfriend, who lay beside me sleeping lightly. The rise and fall of her chest matched the rhythm of her breathing, a calming sight that used to bring me comfort.

As I lay in bed, I couldn't help but watch my partner, Lizzie, sleeping peacefully beside me. I stayed there, watching her for a moment and appreciate the sight before me. But despite the serenity of the scene, I still felt a pang of sadness in my heart.

Lizzie had always been a restless sleeper, constantly shifting positions throughout the night and sometimes even talking in her sleep. But tonight, she was lying completely still, her face calm and relaxed. If someone saw it, they would instantly let it go and think that she's in a deep slumber but I'm not just someone.

I know the truth.

She was pretending to be asleep and it felt like she didn't want to wake up beside me, like she is simply tolerating my presence.

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid, use my best colors for your portrait

They were small things I did for her, but meaningful nonetheless. Always wait by the door every day to greet her, to offer and show her some love and comfort after a hard day at work. I would always stand there, gazing out into the evening sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of my lover making her way home from work. It didn't matter what time it was, or how tired I am after a long day, I always made sure to be there, waiting for Lizzie.

I even took painting classes as it seemed to ease my mind. I poured all of my emotions into my painting, using every color in the palette to capture the beauty of Lizzie's face. I spent hours each day working on the portrait, trying to convey the depth of my feelings for her and I'd use my best colors for her portraits.

Lay the table with the fancy shit, and watch you tolerate it

I had always been a perfectionist when it comes to cooking and entertaining. I would always spent hours in the kitchen, preparing elaborate meals and setting beautiful tables for my lover. I would carefully select the finest ingredients, meticulously prepare each dish, and arrange the table with exquisite linens, flowers, and candles.

I'd make her favorite dishes, lay the table with best cutlery and yet again, no matter how hard I tried, she never seemed to appreciate my efforts. All Lizzie gave back were strained smiles, small and almost whispered hums, and nods in acknowledgment of my attempts, and a whisper of "thanks," as she shoveled the food into her mouth, barely taking the time to taste or savor any of it.

she seemed to simply… tolerate it.

If it's all in my head tell me now, tell me I've got it wrong somehow

Despite my best efforts to communicate openly and honestly with Lizzie, I felt like she wasn't really listening to me, and it made me feel invisible. I began to wonder if I was overthinking everything, if maybe I was the one who was misinterpreting our interactions. Maybe I was being too sensitive, too needy.

Maybe I was the one who was crazy, paranoid.

I felt so alone, so lost, and so unsure of what to do.

I know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it

I began to feel like I was living in a dream world where everything I created was invisible to everyone else. It was as if I was speaking a language that nobody understood, except for my own echoes in mind.

"Liz," I said with a trembling voice, "I've been giving everything I have to make you happy, but it feels like you don't see or appreciate it anymore. I feel taken for granted."

My choice of words caught her off guard, she paused for a moment before responding. "Y/N, I never asked you to do all these things for me. I don't need grand gestures to feel loved, I thought you knew that."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was this really what our relationship had become? A constant stream of argument and neglect?

Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized the disconnect between our expectations. I had been trying so hard to show her love in a way that I thought she would appreciate, but it had only pushed us further apart.

And it happen, I finally snapped.

I felt a surge of anger and frustration well up inside of me.

Why was I putting so much effort into something that seemed to bring her no joy? Why did I care so deeply about pleasing someone who didn't seem to care about me at all?

I knew, I couldn't keep living this way, constantly pouring my heart and soul into something that brought me nothing but pain and disappointment. I realized that no matter how much I gave, Lizzie would never truly reciprocate and still, I constantly yearn for someone who clearly did not want me.

With a heavy heart, I packed my bags. Our relationship had become toxic, with me constantly sacrificing myself for someone who didn't appreciate me. I knew it was time to leave, before I lost any more pieces of myself.

Before leaving, I took a one last look, the last thing I want to remember was the way Elizabeth used to laugh at my jokes, enjoy our food, take me out on dates. The last thing I want to remember was how she used to love my presence, and not just tolerate it.

Maybe one day someone would be enough to have their love celebrated by her.

[interstellarsystem]

Experiences With Being Out as a System

So, our parents know we're a system. It's all good, they understand that when we suddenly speak like someone from London that it's just another guy taking the body for a spin real quick and that they don't need to question it too much.

The thing is... They don't know our names, or anything about us as individuals. We don't have enough open communication with them to actually discuss the inner-workings of the hundreds of little guys in our brain and who they are or what they like, but even if we did, it's not actually important to them. It almost seems like it's swept under the rug.

Our mother said that she doesn't get why she should have to know anyone else when we're all "us". We're all just a collective to her still, a bunch of bits that make up her child, even though she knows we're separate. Her child, the original, isn't here anymore. But the thing is.. some of us want to get to know her and the family individually. Even beyond just being seen as who we actually are, we want to be a part of it aside from being treated as someone who is gone. But it's not a thing they understand despite our explanations of what it means to us, even despite the fact they know the original is dormant and has been for years.

The most anyone in our family knows about us is our mother, and she only knows anyone with a voice similar to Sark as "the american one". She doesn't know that there's even multiple who sound similar to him.

Technically, we're out as a system. Effectively, though... We're still closeted. Though not really because we're staying in it, moreso that we left but it follows us around like a shield within our own household, but it's not shielding us. It's shielding them from us.

Our experience with talking to medical professionals has been hard because of this--sharing bits about ourselves has been scary. It's scarier to show them pictures of our nonhuman headmates and say "that one is me", but it's never actually been bad when we've mustered up the strength to do it. One of them looked at Mal and saw his horns and said he looks like a faun from Greek mythology. Even though he's not, a positive response like that was empowering. That same one said Filigree's hair was cool. Little acknowledgements about who you are when you've tried to be seen before is great.

With our IRL friends, we expected the situation to be similar to our parents. Swept under the rug like a taboo and given weird, uncomfortable looks when spoken about. But it's been completely different.

We get asked who is fronting, we get acknowledged as separate people, hell, we even felt comfortable telling them about our actual fictive identities and letting the ones who wanted to follow this blog (hey guys if you're reading this <3) get access to it. They acknowledge our nonhumanity and nonhuman parts, share things about our sources with us because it reminded them of us, etc. Sometimes, now, because we've been open about it, we get people actually ask "is x fronting" and we say yes and they say "I knew it".

That specific feeling of being recognised even when your outward appearance doesn't change is absolutely amazing. Little manerisms, little ways our voice sounds even when masking accents out in public, even the words we choose to use are tells toward who is actually controlling the body and they pick up on it--even things we might not recognise we even do. Sure, there's hundreds of people in here and people won't know every single one off by heart, but the ones who are out here often are being recognised and that, to me, is amazing and validating to all of us.

I guess the point here is me sharing our experiences, but also.... You will be able to find people who see you for you. You as a system, you as a nonhuman, you as a disabled person, you as a queer person--you'll be able to find your people. And you know, I hope you do soon--because the feeling of being known is great.

[monkepawbz]

Kintsugi

Y/N and Wade have been married for several years now, and Wade is feeling extra sappy when Y/N announces she's pregnant for the second time with a second little girl. Wade reminisces on how Y/N, a former scientist, was able to save Wade all those years ago from the biggest threat he ever had: himself.

Warning: Lewd language and talk about sex and pregnancy. Reader discretion is advised (this is a Deadpool x Reader...obviously this rating is Mature at minimum...)

The scientist eventually got dressed and went downstairs to search for some food, a little anxious about how she was supposed to tell Ellie about the fact she wasn't going to be an only child anymore. Wade and Y/N's daughter, Ellie, had just turned nine years old and the couple had decided now was a good a time as any to add a new face to the family.

Wade followed her downstairs, his bare feet padding against the floor. "Hey, peanut? You okay?" he asked, noticing her tension. He leaned against the counter, watching as she rummaged through the fridge. "You're thinking about how to break it to Ellie, aren't you?"

"I am, yeah." She nodded pensively, reaching into the fridge and grabbing the whipped cream. She squirted some into her mouth and sighed, then turned back to look for something else in the fridge.

Wade chuckled and shook his head.

"You're really going to use whipped cream as a coping mechanism, huh?"

He pushed off the counter and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.

"Hey, maybe I can help you come up with a plan. You know, we are married for a reason. Or is that lil ring on that finger worthless now?" Wade joked, holding up his own hand to show his wedding band. It gleamed in the soft sunlight, making Y/N relax slightly upon seeing it.

"You're right, Wade. I'm sorry. I just...I dunno...what if she gets mad? Is all...'waah, you guys are totally ruining my life!' Or something..." The woman found some stuff to make a ham sandwich and grabbed it, setting down the whipped cream in the process. She shut the fridge door with her hip and walked over to the kitchen counter to start assembling her lunch.

Wade's arms tightened around her waist as he leaned in close, his voice taking on a soothing tone.

"Ahahahaha, peanut, you're thinking about this all wrong. Ellie loves us both, and she'll adjust to the new addition just fine. And if she doesn't...well, we'll deal with that when the time comes." He nuzzled her ear. "Besides, I've got a plan. We can make it fun! We can have a family meeting and explain everything together." Wade offered, which made Y/N relax slightly.

"How soon should we do this? We have no idea if it worked today. For all we know, we might have to keep trying to get me pregnant. After all...they taught us in high school that getting pregnant a second time was so much harder than the first time, Wade..." she rambled nervously. Wade gave her a lopsided grin, finding her as adorable as the day they first met.

Wade's grip on her waist relaxed, and he let out a deep sigh. "Yeah, yeah, I know all about the stats and stuff. But we're not gonna worry about that right now. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." He pulled back and looked at her with a serious expression. "Let's just focus on enjoying this moment for now. We've got our little bundle of kickass growing inside you, and we should be celebrating that! The second addition to the Deadpool family! Hot damn, I'm like Bruce Wayne collecting kids here!" He joked.

"But we don't actually know yet...we only just tried less than an hour ago...what if it didn't take?" She frowned, finally finding making a sandwich. She offered it to him, opting to make another one for just herself if he accepted the lunch. Wade graciously took the sandwich and watched as she grabbed him a plate from the cabinet behind her, giving her a silent 'thank you'. She smiled, then sighed as reality crashed back down onto her.

Wade's face lit up with a mischievous grin as he bit into the sandwich, groaning happily at how good it tasted.

"Ahahahaha, peanut, you're so worried about it not taking that I think we need to celebrate either way," His blue eyes sparkles with amusement as he continued. "Win or lose, we're having fun today. And if it didn't take...well, we'll just have to try again soon, won't we?~"

"I guess you're right. It not working just means more sex for the both of us, huh?" she smiled slightly, working on making her own sandwich quietly. Y/N giggled at how Wade hopped up and down excitedly, his sandwich gripped tightly in his hands.

Wade's eyes lit up with excitement as he nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, hell yeah! More sex is always a good thing in my book. And who knows, maybe we'll get lucky and it'll take on the second try," He chuckled to himself, taking another bite of his sandwich. "But even if not, I'm happy to keep trying...for science."

"Hmm, I think you just miss me and all the hot, raunchy sex we used to have before we became parents, don't you?~" Y/N giggled. "We both became so busy what with you being a dad and becoming more of an anti-hero and me switching jobs to stay at home with El."

Wade's face turned bright red as he coughed, trying to play it cool. "What? No way, peanut! I just...I mean, yeah, okay fine. You're right. Being parents is awesome and all that jazz, but let's be real...we used to have some crazy hot times in the bedroom," He winked at her mischievously. "And I'm not saying we can't get back to those times now that Ellie's getting older."

"So you dig the mom bod?" she asked self-consciously. Wade nodded eagerly.

"Uh, a doy, my little MILF. Of course I dig the mom bod, sugar tits. You always looked bangin' but the way you got all curved up makes me hard as a rock God DAYUM." He flirted, spanking her ass playfully. Y/N yelped, her face turning bright red in response.

"Wade, knock it off..." she laughed, clearly flustered.

"Why should I, pookie bear? I'm just giving you some good ole fashioned Wade Wilson luvins! I wanna make my dear wifey feel better, and what better way than doing what I do best? Being a vulgar and annoying asshole to her?" Wade grinned, the smile almost reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat from Alice In Wonderland. Y/N rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but smile.

"There's that smile, firecracker! I love having such a sexy wife all to myself! Not once have I wanted anyone else as soon as you strutted your way into my life, pretty girl." Wade flirted, lightly spanking his wife's ass again and howling obnoxiously like a wolf. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she playfully tried to swat at Wade's hand, but he was too quick and continued to tease her. She let out a little squeal of delight as he spanked her ass, feeling a rush of excitement course through her veins.

"Oh, stop it! You're making me blush!" She laughed, trying to maintain a stern expression while secretly enjoying all the attention.

"Nuh uh, no. I vowed to make you feel good today, and that means I gotta get those feels back up to the good status." He whispered, moving behind her and cupping both her breasts. He softly massaged both, feeling her melt slightly against his warm hands.

"That's it, baby. Let me take care of you today. I wanna make today all about you. You've done so much for our family and have always been there for me, even when I was a blabbermouth of a Merc. Yet you always seemed to see the good in me. You remember that talk we had all those years ago? About the kintsugi thing?" He asked, his voice turning to a low rumble as he continued to massage her breasts. She sighed and leaned her back against his chest, relaxing even more as they stood together in the middle of the kitchen. The sunshine illuminated her hair, making it even more shiny as it framed her face just right.

"Yeah, I think so. Something about us fixing each other like the kintsugi concept, yeah?" Y/N asked tentatively. Wade nodded, kissing her neck softly.

"You're a damn good scientist, baby. Never let that go, okay? You always talk big shit about me being an anti-hero now...but you're really the one who deserves more praise. You saved my life. If it wasn't for you, I'd still probably be semi-homeless, addicted to drugs and addicted to meaningless relationships as a merc. You saw someone so genuinely fucked up and decided...'I want that one'. And dammit, I can't lie, your stubbornness really came in handy this time." Wade chuckled softly, a warm smile on his lips. "Plus, that serum you made all those years ago gave me my looks back. Now our daughter has a normal looking dad and never has to know what I looked like before. And yeah, you didn't mind when I was all mutated and cancery, but I did, peanut...I did...cause why would such a goddess like you want anything to do with some freak like me...?" He hid his face against her back. Dammit, he hated being vulnerable, but he knew Y/N needed to know the truth. Over the years he had become a lot more sappy thanks to her.

Her eyes welled up with tears as she felt Wade's words wash over her. She wanted to hold him close, but he continued to hide his face against her back.

"Wade, stop it," She whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. "You're being ridiculous...I loved you then and I love you now. You were never a freak to me...you were always my broken thing of beauty." She smiled softly, feeling a lump form in her throat.

"Oh come on...let's face the music, Y/N. I don't think life would be as good or even as easy if I didn't look like my old self again...you really gave me a whole-ass second chance, babe. You brought me back to life and screamed in my face 'YOU MATTER' until eventually you got me believing it, too. That's damn impressive if you ask me. You...managed to fix the Merc With A Mouth." Wade moved to stand in front of her and cupped both her cheeks with his hands, causing her to look up at him and set down her sandwich on the counter.

Y/N's eyes sparkled with tears as she looked up at Wade, her voice barely above a whisper.* "You're making me cry again, dammit," She whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

"But you know what? I don't care. Because when I look at you...I see the man I fell in love with. The one who was broken and lost, but still had so much heart. And that's what I fixed...not just your face." She smiled softly, wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye.

"How the hell did a devil like me get an angel like you, sweet stuff?" Wade laughed, voice heavy with emotion. Damn, now HE wanted to cry a little. Fuck, being a husband and father had made him go soft. Whatever, it's not like he needed to be overly cocky at the moment, anyways.

"You're no devil. You just needed someone to talk to. Someone to actually listen to the shit you were saying. I don't think anyone did before, did they?" Y/N asked softly, and Wade nodded.

"When you're a merc like I was, talk was kinda cheap in the grand scheme of things, ya know? But well, surprisingly I'm happy I decided to become less of a mercenary and more of an anti-hero. Maybe the Avengers will finally take me on, yeah?" His blue eyes shined with hope as he looked at her. She smiled warmly at him and reached up to ruffle his fluffy brown hair.

"Wade, they would be lucky to have a guy like you on their team." Y/N said.

The couple embraced, swaying slowly in the middle of the kitchen. They were happy, and that's all that really mattered in the end.

[30somethingautisticteacher]

Their First Married Morning

This tooth rotting fluff has been hanging around in my drafts for over a month.

****

Buck was giddy, his entire body buzzing with excitement despite the early hour. He couldn't stop grinning as he adjusted his wedding ring, still marveling at its presence on his finger. He was a married man now. He had a husband. The reality of it all felt surreal, so different from anything he had ever pictured for himself and yet so incredibly right.

As he stood there, lost in his thoughts, Tommy's voice cut through his reverie. "Uber's here, sweetheart. Are you ready to go?" Tommy asked, his own eyes shining with joy and love, despite the slight bags under them from the previous night's celebration.

Buck turned to face his husband - his husband! - and felt his heart swell even more. Tommy looked adorably rumpled in his travel clothes, his hair still mussed from sleep.

"On our honeymoon?" Buck replied, his voice filled with enthusiasm and a touch of playful suggestiveness. "Hell yeah, I'm ready!"

He reached out, intertwining his fingers with Tommy's, feeling the matching ring on his husband's hand. The simple touch sent a thrill through him, a reminder of the commitment they had made to each other just hours ago.

As they made their way out of their house, dragging their suitcases behind them, Buck couldn't help but steal glances at Tommy. This was the start of their new life together, and he couldn't wait to see what adventures lay ahead.

"I love you, Mr. Kinard," Buck murmured as they approached the waiting car.

Tommy squeezed his hand, his smile radiant despite the early morning hour. "I love you too, Mr. Kinard."

As they settled into the back seat of the Uber, Buck's grin widened even further. He turned to Tommy, his eyes sparkling with amazement.

"I can't believe I'm actually Evan Kinard now," he said, his voice filled with wonder and joy.

Tommy reached over, taking Buck's hand in his own. "Believe it, baby. You're stuck with me now," he teased gently.

Buck squeezed Tommy's hand, his expression growing soft. "Stuck with you? More like the luckiest man alive."

The driver glanced at them in the rearview mirror, a small smile on his face. "Newlyweds, huh?"

"That obvious?" Buck laughed, not taking his eyes off Tommy.

"Just married yesterday," Tommy confirmed, his thumb absently rubbing over Buck's wedding ring.

"Congratulations," the driver said warmly. "Where to? Airport, I'm guessing?"

"Yep," Buck nodded, finally tearing his gaze away from his husband. "LAX, please. We've got a honeymoon to get to."

As the car pulled away from the curb, Buck leaned into Tommy's side, resting his head on his shoulder. The reality of his new name, his new life, washed over him again.

Buck's eyes lit up as he remembered something. "Oh, I had Bobby put in the order for new turnouts. Can't wait to have our name on the back."

Tommy's smile grew even wider. "Really? That's amazing, Ev. It's going to be something else seeing 'Kinard' on your back at calls."

"I know, right?" Buck said excitedly. "They're actually going to say E. Kinard, but still, it's like another way of showing the world we're a team now. In everything."

The driver glanced at them in the rearview mirror, a curious smile on his face. "Firefighters, huh?"

"That's right," Tommy confirmed proudly. "Both of us."

"Wow," the driver said, impressed. "A firefighter couple. That's pretty cool."

Suddenly, a thought occurred to Tommy, and he chuckled. "You know, people are going to be so confused by Buck Kinard. Your nickname isn't gonna make sense anymore."

Buck's eyes widened as the realization hit him. He laughed, shaking his head. "Oh man, you're right! I didn't even think about that. Buck Kinard... it does sound a bit odd, doesn't it?"

"Maybe we should've hyphenated after all," Tommy teased. "Buck Kinard-Buckley at least keeps the connection."

Buck playfully nudged Tommy's shoulder. "Nah, I already love being a Kinard. Plus, can you imagine how long that would be on a turnout coat?"

"Well," Buck continued, "I guess I'll just have to explain it a lot. 'Yes, I'm Buck. No, it's not short for Buckley anymore. It's a long story, want to hear about how I met the love of my life?'"

Tommy squeezed Buck's hand, his eyes soft with affection. "I love the sound of that story."

As the car continued its journey to the airport, Buck and Tommy fell into a comfortable silence, both imagining the first time they'd see Buck in his new turnouts, 'E.Kinard' proudly displayed for all to see. It was just one more symbol of their new life together, a life they were both eager to begin.

"I can't wait to be on the beach with you," Buck said, his voice soft but filled with anticipation.

Tommy's expression softened, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. "Me neither, sweetheart. Just you, me, and the ocean."

Buck leaned in closer, resting his head on Tommy's shoulder. "No emergencies, no alarms, no schedules. Just us, relaxing and enjoying being newlyweds."

"Sounds perfect," Tommy murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of Buck's head. "Though knowing us, we'll probably end up rescuing someone from a rip current or something."

Buck chuckled. "Probably. But hey, that's who we are. Kinards to the rescue, on duty or off."

As the car made its way through the early morning traffic, the couple fell into a comfortable silence, both lost in thoughts of sun, sand, and the start of their new life together. The excitement of their honeymoon ahead mixed with the joy of their recent wedding, creating a bubble of happiness around them as they headed towards the airport and the beginning of their next adventure.

As the car pulled up to the departures terminal at LAX, the driver turned to them with a warm smile.

"Here we are," he announced. "Have a great honeymoon, guys."

Buck and Tommy shared a look, their excitement apparent as the reality of their trip set in.

"Thanks so much," Buck said, his smile bright as he reached for the door handle.

Tommy nodded in agreement. "Yeah, thank you for the ride and the well wishes."

As they climbed out of the car, the driver helped them retrieve their luggage from the trunk. Buck couldn't help but bounce a little on his feet, his energy infectious.

"Ready for this, Mr. Kinard?" Tommy asked, a teasing lilt to his voice as he took hold of his suitcase.

Buck's grin widened even further, if that was possible. "More than ready, Mr. Kinard. Let's go start our honeymoon."

With a final wave to their driver, the newlyweds made their way into the bustling airport, hand in hand. The noise and crowd of the terminal couldn't dampen their spirits as they headed towards check-in, both of them buzzing with the anticipation of the journey ahead - not just their honeymoon, but the lifetime they were about to embark on together.

As they disappeared into the crowd, their matching rings glinted in the early morning sunlight streaming through the airport windows, a small but significant symbol of the new chapter they were beginning.

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

2 - Mouth of the Lion's Den

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

Length: 11.2k

Warnings: Slow Burn, strained parent-child issues, mentions of minor character death, injured/sick child mention, slight canon divergence

Notes: We're in the thick of the plot now. Based on the show but will include direct book elements. Previous Chapter Here.

You used to not travel very well as a child. The first time you left Dragonstone was right at the crux of the seasons change. Summer had ended, and it was a quick Autumn which felt far more like winter the more North you sailed. The sea was always cool, and the north was cooler. When you returned to Dragonstone some months later, Maester Cressen had said that the mix of seasons being the first time you left home is what caused you to get so ill.

What a meeting it was. Lord Stark had told you that it was halfway through your first meal with them when you collapsed. Barley touched anything on your plate which they first thought you just weren’t used to the food. That was until you collapsed onto the floor just as you stood from your seat as you burned up.

Whatever it was, it went through you fast and terrifying to the point where Maester Luwin had told Lord Stark to prepare to send a raven in case the worst happened. It didn’t though, you slept through the fever and by the time you awoke, you remembered none of it. You assumed you fell sick before arriving at Winterfell that’s how little you were really aware of anything.

It wasn’t like that anymore, but as you had sat in your room at the Inn days ago it did make you wonder what could have possibly hit Lord Arryn faster and harsher then that. Despite his age, he was more healthy as an older man then you were at the age of eight. Yet you had survived and his sickness burned through him in one single night.

Perhaps you had too much time that night to think on it, no one really was in any mood to converse after what happened. Once Lord Stark had put Lady down, he had you go find Jory. “Tell him to choose four men and have them take the body back North. Bury her at Winterfell.” He had taken the girls to their rooms, and even in the muffled quiet you could hear Sansa crying through the walls. Arya’s cries would be too quiet to hear, but you were no fool to think her chasing off Nymeria just to save her life wouldn’t leave the child in tears of her own.

So the Inn was silent, save for the low tones coming from Lord Stark’s own room. One where he laid the truth out, what Lysa has sent her sister, what it said about the Lannisters. He asked you what did you notice from before he died, and you were honest. Very little.

Your lord father had kept you away on purpose. He and Lord Arryn distant and secretive, and you had suspected you were sitting on small council meetings not just in his place but as if it would keep you preoccupied from their doings. Which it worked, but it also was not enough to dull you. Lord Stark agreed that it all worked out too seamlessly, Lord Arryn dies suddenly from an unknown illness, Stannis Baratheon urgently marries his firstborn daughter off to a far northern house as he himself flees to Dragonstone.

They both knew something, and what that was, sent your father away on his own accord. Shutting himself back on the grim island and leaving you to the wolves and the lions.

“You’re our family now. You are as good as one of my own daughters, and we protect our own. You stick by me once me get to Kings Landing. Work by my side, you’ll stay in our quarters with the girls until we learn what it is Jon Arryn died for.” Once again, that lingering feeling sat in your gut that walking out of the capital wasn’t going to be as easy as walking in this time around.

Now, sitting atop your horse once more you felt even less happy about being back then you had leaving the north. Your face flat and cold like stone as you rose through the crowds welcoming the King and his company once more. The cart behind you carrying the girls, Sansa no doubt bright eyed and taking in the awe of a place she dreamed would be for her. Arya you knew no doubt, was already wondering just how much she would explore when left to her own curious devices.

Just ahead of you, a page awaited everyone’s arrival. Calling to Lord Stark for a small council meeting at Grand Maester Pycelle’s request. You dared not move an inch thinking about how typical it was that such a meeting wasn’t called by the King himself, despite no doubt arriving before you all had. Oh the many matters of your King Uncle to attend too. So much wine to drink, and so many whores to fuck.

Lord Stark calling back, “Jory, get the girls settled in. I’ll be back in time for supper.” Calling your name, you climbed off your horse as he beckoned you. “You’re with me.”

The Page glancing over his attire and yours as you approached, “If you’d like to change into something more appropriate…” The combination of yours and Lord Stark’s unmoving stare causing him to stammer and backtrack. Any other time you may have considered it, but now you were here in place of your fathers position and spending time dolling yourself up once more looked more and more like a waste of time.

Renly had once told you every time you return to Kings Landing, you seem to be more and more of a splitting image of your bore of a father. He might be onto something in truth.

The Red Keep had not changed, and nothing passed your mind to care to think about it until the doors to the Throne room opened and right at the top looking up at the Iron Throne was just another face you wished not to see so early in the morning. Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, and twin brother to the Queen, he certainly held all the superior smugness of such titles in his very posture had seemed to arrive far earlier then yourself.

A little nod did not suffice as you wished it did, as he saw fit to open his mouth as soon as you came even slightly close. “Lady Baratheon- or, I suppose it’s Stark now isn’t it? Already quite adjusted to the northern boys afterall, aren’t you?” Barley managing to muster up the weakest of half smiles he only grinned more, leaning in to give a fake too-loud whisper in your ear. “I do hope you weren’t too broken in for your new husband, would hate to break the boys heart before he even had a chance.”

Biting your tongue, you were sure had he not found victim in Lord Stark behind you, the pressure would’ve drawn blood. You didn’t wait, making your way into the small council chamber with little care of greeting those already present, for the most part.

“Ah, the newly named Lady Stark. I must congratulate you on your marriage, always nice to see the young love flourishing. Shame to be torn apart so early on.” Nodding, you managed more of a smile this time. You didn’t particularly trust Lord Varys but considering he was the man who likely knew so much he could tell you what you had for breakfast three days ago, playing nice was better then not playing at all.

“Thank you, Lord Varys. But, he has Winterfell to run and I have my work here. I’m sure Robb understands.”

Passing to the table, you nodded to Grand Maester Pycelle, and saw fit to ignore the other party in the room without any shame in doing so. Not that you would be aware of, but to the others it really was as if Lord Stannis had walked in like normal. The man having no patience for Petyr Baelish as well. If anyone lit your gaze up slightly, it was the smirk of the younger man already waiting by the opposite end.

Renly had no qualms about approaching you with a casualness, and no need to pretend as if either of you cared to be formally civil. “I can’t tell if the north suits you my dear niece, or if it’s just being around this lot making you so much more droll.”

Arms crossed in front of you, an eyebrow quirked up as he held a smirk. You’d hit him later. “Shame you were so busy Uncle, would have been nice to have at least one other family member there to share the festivities with.”

Hardly a secret anymore, most in the court knew of Renly’s private preferences but you might be the only one who knew it without any doubt. The only one it seemed, that he trusted to know as well. Not that his brothers would despise him for it, but certainly the King a bit too crass to not be offensive and well, least to say your father was not exactly a comforting kind of man. He wouldn’t care and he certainly would make you feel as such for it.

“What can I say, so much work, so many laws to look into.”

Your eyes glint, passing right by with a tone only audible enough for him, “Swordplay isn’t a law, last time I checked.” You’d be a fool to think Renly didn’t take advantage of so much of the royal court being away, not to lock himself up in his chambers with a certain flower for as long as he could get away with.

Not that you were in such a position to dare judge.

Your father used to get annoyed constantly by the lack of work Renly was properly given, but it might be he expected too much. Renly had a tendency to be handed easy tasks and get more credit then the nights your own father spent buried in papers in his office would accomplish. Leaning your hands on the top of what was now your seat, you watched the others greet the now approaching Lord Stark.

“We are all praying for Prince Joffery’s full recovery.”

Oh the rewards the gods should bestow upon you for how little you changed your expression. He gets one bite from a barley grown Direwolf and he has the realm on it’s knees pretending to sob at the tragic wounds. You had more scars on you from being hit with sticks and practice swords over your childhood before the spoiled Prince ever reached that age.

Even in Winterfell, you watched him get angry and frustrated at how often Robb would hit him in the courtyard simply beacuse he had no idea what he was doing. The Hound having to remind him even that he demanded they spar just to show off, and he can’t stand there and whine blaming Robb for doing exactly what he asked.

Besides, not that anyone had asked, you’d have to admit that not all bites from a wolf were entirely bad. At least it took as long as it did to get back to Kings Landing, those marks having healed over by the time it became too hot to cover them up then in the northern cold.

Renly’s voice from beside you, “You look tired from the road, I told them this meeting could wait another day but..”

“But we have a kingdom to look after.” Looking over you saw a strange smile on Lord Baelish’s face and so did everyone else if the uncomfortable air in the room was honest. “I’ve hope to meet you for some time, Lord Stark. No doubt Lady Catelyn has mentioned me.”

“She has, Lord Baelish. I understand you knew my brother Brandon as well.”

If Lord Baelish could have purposely made things more uncomfortable you think the room might have melted away just to escape it. It wasn’t the first time you’d heard whispers of his affection for her, but it was brazen of him to be so open about it in front of her husband of over twenty years.

Settling in, you sat beside Lord Stark as Renly pulled out a paper, explaining to the council that the King wasn’t exactly a common presence at the small council and most of these matters were left without his input. “My brother has instructed us to stage a tournament in honour of Lord Stark’s appointment as Hand of the King.”

Didn’t take being Master of Coin to know the money wouldn’t be coming from the surplus of the Crown. Grand Maester Pycelle’s frail voice piping up, “Can the treasury bear such expenses?”

As if ordering food from a servant, Lord Baelish waved the concern. “I’ll have to borrow it. The Lannisters will accomodate, I expect. We already owe Lord Tywin three million gold, what’s another eighty thousand.”

You felt for Lord Stark beside you, “Are you telling me the Crown is three million in debt?”

Looking firmly at the table with an irritated grimace, you corrected him for the worse. “Actually, he’s telling you the Crown is six million in debt.” Lord Stark, was in shock at the state, demanding to know how this could happen and once again, Lord Baelish acted like such debt was easily forgiven.

“The Master of Coin finds the money, the King and the Hand spend it.”

Lord Stark beside you sounded as annoyed as you felt on the inside but he was still tinged in disbelief as he looked at the man. “I will not believe Jon Arryn allowed Robert to bankrupt the realm.”

The Grand Maester for all his slowness, had the grace to speak the truth instead of washing it away like the other Lord in front of him. “Lord Arryn gave wise and prudent advice, but I fear His Grace doesn’t always listen.”

Sitting up straight, you nor Renly were quite sure if it was his voice that came out of your mouth, or the unimpressed voice of your father who held the same opinions. “The King loves tournaments and feasts, but not the conversation of money that follows. ‘Counting Coppers’ he calls it.”

You admired his determination to reason with the King. Even with both his blood brothers at his side, neither man could settle his indulgences the way Lord Stark may have the ability too. Even now you could hear the ramblings and angry ravings of your father in his office, going about how he was born the wrong family if he were to ever make his brother listen. Many had thought that Lord Stannis would take over as Hand of the King, and you would take his place as Master of Ships in the immediate aftermath of Lord Arryns death.

Your father had been sat on the small council for almost ten years at that point, and had been home less and less as those years passed. The only letters he exchanged anymore were with some of his closest men, and of course, Shireen. You envied her in that sense. Not that she was loved in the way she was, but that she had such a happy innocence about her.

Once Maester Cressen had said she was the saddest girl he had ever met, that he considered that part of his failure to cure her. But she had been cured, just not by him and clearly he took it hard, but she wasn’t sad, not in the way some assumed. She loved learning, and your father had been determined to give her the same education as he had you. Everyday she would run to him once he was in his own quarters, jump onto his lap and go on about what book she was learning to read, and were he not there, she’d scramble to write a letter to tell him.

Few people adored Lord Stannis, but she was always his biggest supporter.

As you entered the very bottom of the tower of the hand, you wondered how much she knew. Did she know Lord Arryn was dead, did she know you were acting in your fathers place, did she even know you were married? She’d be upset to learn she wasn’t there for your wedding. One day when she was just barley older then a toddler, you had been sitting on the edge of a cliff on Dragonstone with Shireen sat in your lap.

Going on about what a highborn lady would do, who she’d marry and what the wedding would be. You planned hers and yours, just two little girls by the waters edge and it saddened you to think that she wasn’t there to see yours. Childishly, you wondered if she’d like Robb.

Walking through the door, you passed some of the Starks household guard, regarding you with a familiarity as you passed. As if you really were family, not just a guest. Maybe it was for the best that she had father with her again, at least he still felt like one to her.

The chambers were quiet, and as you saw what was left of easy food on the table you hadn’t the stomach for it. Sitting down regardless, you lifted some of the plates out of your place, pouring yourself water as you stared at the little flame the light on the table wickered with. Pulling out a small slip of paper from a small pocket, you slipped the seal off, a small direwolf. Looking over the words as you sipped at the water.

Sending a raven was risky for what he was trying to say, but Robb was smart enough to not say anything of anything. Telling you of Bran, and your heart broke at how devastated the boy feels of not being able to walk again. More he tells you of how he has no idea what to even say to make it better, that Bran just needs time to get used to things but watching his little brother be so miserable and not being able to fix it just makes him angry. You knew exactly how that felt, watching your little sibling suffer and being completely useless to them for it.

A slam shook you out of your focus, pulling the letter back suddenly and tucking it away before you looked up to see a somewhat grumpy Arya now at the table with you. “I know my face usually looks like that, but what’s got yours in such a put off state?”

Sighing, she draped her arms over the top of the surface to gently lay her head in them, turned enough to still see you. “I don’t know how you stand it, being here all the time.”

Leaning forward, you mimicked her posture, looking back at her now from a tilted but even eye level. “I’m here because I have to be, not because I want to be. I have a duty, and that needs to be upheld regardless if it makes me miss home or not.”

Pushing up suddenly, Arya’s eyes were bright and bordering on an intense curiosity. “You’d rather be home? At Dragonstone?”

Moving back yourself you paused as you opened your mouth. Closed it for a second, before sighing out as you crossed your arms over your chest. Leaning back against the chair behind you looking at the nothing of importance on the table. “Honestly? I’m not sure where that is anymore.” Her brows narrowed in confusion, “Where I feel at home I mean.”

Were there not such a heavy weight in your heart you may have smiled at how quickly she reacted, and the finality of her tone. “You’re one of us now, Winterfell is your home.” Just as something crossed your mind, it clearly did hers too. Shoulders deflating as she lost the shine in her eyes. “Or, it’s supposed to be.”

Heart reaching out to hers, you knew comforting wouldn’t make it better, or change what hurt in the first place. “You won’t be in Kings Landing forever.” Her eyes flickered to you and then back did they focus into her mind. “Eventually you’ll go back to Winterfell, get restless there too and you’ll either insist someone take you there or you’ll be old enough to just head out to visit on your own. He’ll always want to see you.”

Arya grumbled out, quiet and filled with a twinge of guilt as if she couldn’t decide should you be able to hear her or not. “Not just me he’ll want to see.”

Leaning forward, your back sat straight for the most part as you leaned your forearms against the table again. “There’s five of you, Arya. You have to share your brother with all of them at least sometimes.”

Quieter so much this time, you weren’t sure if you even actually heard her speak but there was a faint sound like, “Not just us,” that you choose to ignore. As Arya herself pushed passed it as well. “Sansa won’t care. She barley ever even calls him her brother.” There was a bite to her tone, and you knew all too well that it wasn’t just about this.

She didn’t find out until the next day about the butcher’s son, and she still hadn’t taken it very well.

You tried softly calling her name, but Arya got louder. Her arms swinging a bit as she gestured in her expressiveness. “She always calls him our bastard brother, not even half brother or anything like he’s not been her brother since she was born. She doesn’t respect him, she doesn’t respect anybody who isn’t herself or the stupid prince.”

Anywhere but the safety of her own walls, you’d scold her for so freely vocalizing her insolence. But she was in her new home, and Joffery certainly was a stupid, vile little creature who got Arya’s new friend killed. People could claim it was the Queen, but you unfortunately knew her well enough that she was far more clever of a monster then that. No, that was Joffery’s angry, immature rage which sent the Hound out against a boy not even in his teens.

Glancing at the door you knew to be both Lord Stark’s room, and if his work ethic was consistent, scribbling away on the too many tasks the King left to his Lord Hand, too busy to come out and hear you. “Do you want my honest opinion? About that night?” Her head nodding fervently, brows narrowed in a manner that looked so strikingly serious like Jons. “It doesn’t matter what Sansa would have said, as soon as Joffery showed up to the Inn bleeding, the Queen already made her mind up. Sansa could’ve told the complete truth and they still would’ve blamed you and Nymeria.”

A flash of sorrow in her eyes made your heart tighten painfully before covering it up with an easier to swallow emotion, “The she shouldn’t have lied! If it didn’t matter she could’ve told the truth about Micah and-”

“And the Queen would’ve done everything the same. And she still would’ve blamed you.” Leaning forward, your voice lowered to something much more serious. “People like you, like us? We don’t do well in places like this. You’re too honest and headstrong, and you haven’t been here long enough to learn how to hold back. And people like the Queen? Joffery? We are exactly who they want to take advantage of.”

You could hear the condescension even now, “She’s as wild as that animal of hers,” And it made you mad all over again. After some time when father brought you here, he ended up being the one to help you with your sword lessons alone in his own quarters, not wanting people like the Queen, or his brothers to have any more reason to look down on you. He wasn’t a popular man, he knew it, but he wouldn’t have these people mistreat his daughter, especially as a young teenager.

“I’m not saying you have to change, or pretend to be something you’re not. But I am telling you, this place has eyes and ears everywhere. Me, your father, Jory, people like that you can trust. You can be angry, and honest and upset around.” Glancing once again to Lord Starks door, you felt ashamed for what came from you next but mincing words was not a trait of the Stannis Baratheon variety of stags.

“Sansa wants to be here, and she wants to be apart of this because she’s naive. As long as the Lannisters give her pretty smiles, and soothing words she will bend to them because she thinks they could be her family some day. That doesn’t make it right the way she threw you and your friend to the wolves,” Arya quirked an eyebrow with a smirk, and you shook your head with one of your own. “Lions- shut up.”

Sighing, she leaned back into her seat. “I don’t hate her, not really. I just..”

“Don’t trust her.”

Glancing up with a bit of a stun, she seemed shocked you didn’t tell her to do anything otherwise. In a sense, you knew what she was feeling.

You loved Renly, he was closer to your age and the two of you always felt more like brother and sister with how easily he could bring out your more playful side in this pit of a captiol. But you didn’t trust him one bit. Not with your secrets, not with your work, and not with the particular companions he had been keeping as of late.

Renly and you were as close of friends as you had in this city, but at the end of the day. It was Stannis who was your father. It was the brother which both others looked down on, the daughter which had far too much of Stannis in her blood and personality to be seen as one of them. Robert didn’t care much for his brothers, but best be said he is lying to himself if he thinks he doesn’t show preference to Renly.

Stannis had always felt he was cheated of Storms End. The ancestral seat of House Baratheon, his by rights. Many times even in your tenure here at his side, he had gone to King Robert singing the same song. Anytime it was mentioned, your father would clench his jaw so tightly, you thought his teeth would shatter. You once had brought it up to one of his men, back on Dragonstone that he seemed to take it as a slight.

Ser Davos Seaworth had just looked at you with a somber look, one that was as sympathetic to his lord as he was offended on his behalf. “I think, my little lady, King Robert had meant it as a slight.”

It was the same here. Arya suffered, was threatened and attacked, her own direwolf having to be sent away just for protecting her master, and her new friend murdered for just agreeing to play duel by the river. Sansa had lost Lady in the Queens injustice, but she still got to walk the capitol and be treated like the princess she dreamed of being. While Arya was looked at as wild, untruly, and thought less of without being given a chance.

Falling back into the present, you sighed deeply. “Why do you think my Uncle Renly fits in here, when I stand out as much as your father does?”

Arya too, glanced at the closed door. “Because he plays along?”

“And I do my duty.” Sipping at the water once more before continuing. “Sansa is your family, and you shouldn’t forget that. You need each other, but I’m not asking you to trust her. Not the way you do your father, or Jon-”

“Or you.”

In those two words, your heart missed Shireen. She and Arya were alike in a lot of ways, Shireen a little more reserved but the same eager and honest spirit. You smiled, unsure if it was warmth of how Arya saw you, or yearning for the little sister you barley had seen grown up so far.

Silence between you was comfortable for a moment, until of course, Arya found something to blurt out. “Father caught me with Needle.” Raising your eyebrows, she slunk down a bit. “Needle’s my…it’s my sword. Well sort of a sword, it’s small and thin, but it’s supposed to be for my size. Anyways, he knocked on my door and I didn’t really notice that I didn’t bother hiding it. Or maybe I didn’t care if he saw me with it. He let me keep it, but he says I shouldn’t play with swords.”

Shrugging one shoulder, your voice was strangely casual. “They aren’t toys.”

“I know that!” You laughed at how defensive she got. You had a feeling you weren’t the first or even second person to tell her that. “You can use a sword, why shouldn’t I?”

Smiling to yourself, you refrained from specifying that the only reason you started to be trained on how to use one, is beacuse a certain dark haired, grey eyed boy had snuck up behind you and hit you with a practice one when no one was around to scold you two for it.

“Will you teach me?”

The letter in your pocket begin to weight you down, you needed to ask Lord Stark about it before morning. You had another small council meeting early on and you didn’t fancy being kept out of the dark again. Standing up, you ran your hand playfully over her hair as you passed. “That’s up to your father. It’s late, go get some sleep.”

Turning to approach Lord Stark’s room, you missed the feeling glance from the small Stark watching you leave. Something in her eyes that knew things which you couldn’t have guessed she was privy too, but just added to her growing admiration all the same.

As you guessed, the man was sitting at his desk writing away when he called for you to enter. Shutting it gently behind you with a polite, “Lord Stark.”

Chuckling, his hand paused before shaking his head slightly and continuing. “You’re allowed to call me my name, you know. I think marrying my son gives you the right to at drop the titles in private.”

Nodding once as you approached, “I’ll try to remember that.” He knew you wouldn’t.

When you hesitated, he looked up at you with a questioning look. “What is it?”

You stood unsure for another moment before quickly moving to take a seat on the opposite side of his desk, pulling out the letter. “I heard from Robb.” Lord Stark- Ned, leaned forward curiously. “Nothing new, just updating me about Bran, how he’s fairing as Lord of Winterfell.”

“I’m assuming you’re not just here to make small talk.”

Well it certainly wasn’t your skill that was true. Inhaling a slow breathe, you looked straight at him to just ask what you needed to confirm. “Lady Catelyn was here, wasn’t she?” His brows narrowed deeply as he reached a hand out, taking the letter from you.

Skimming over, he smiled amusingly as he reached the end. “You two talk in code often?”

You failed to prevent the smirk on your lips before you had noticed it was even forming. “Only when we’re talking about things we’re not supposed to.”

“And how often is that, exactly?”

You only shrugged. You, Robb, Jon, and later Theon, would get into trouble a lot when you were younger. But when you would leave, you and Robb figured out a way to talk about things that would certainly get you punished if your father ever found out. So you started writing in almost childish imagery. Hence the end of his letter, saying to ask his father about “some stray kitten I saw running around the halls the other day.”

Folding the letter, he handed it back to you. “Clever. But he’s right. I shouldn’t keep this from you, and Robb clearly doesn’t want me too.” Leaning back he pulled something from his desk, what looked like a blade with a rich ornate handle to it. Placing it on the desk you leaned forward to look closer as he explained. “A man came into Brans room some night after we had all left Winterfell. Told Cat no one was supposed to be there, that it was a kindness.”

The bite in his tone was angry and spiteful even if his face remained steadfast. Like he was lost in thought, he seemed to trail off in his head before coming back. Telling you of the man trying to kill him, how he had almost killed Lady Catelyn in the process, and the direwolf which ripped the assassins throat out. “Bran’s wolf had saved his life..”

Leaning forward you felt a horror bubble up inside of you, Bran was a boy of ten who would do such a thing? Voice weaker, cracking a bit at the look of almost shame or guilt in his eyes forming. “Lord Stark?”

Head shooting up to look at you, like those words, that specific title speaking of the wolves clicked something in his head that he didn’t know how to feel. “The direwolves, when we found them in the woods…Jon had said something. That my children were meant to have them..”

Jon hadn’t included himself. There were five pups, two girls and three boys and Jon had purposely not counted himself as one of Lord Stark’s children in order to prove they were meant to go to them. He had found Ghost off to the side all on his own, so quiet Jon wasn’t even sure how he had heard Ghost’s tiny cry when not a soul other had.

Lord Stark still lost in his thought, “If the Gods sent those wolves…I killed Sansa’s..” Just as fast as he lost himself in a spiral, he took back the reigns and pulled right back out of it. “Everything adds up but I don’t know to why. Lysa telling her that the Lannisters murdered Jon Arryn, Jaime Lannister being the only man who didn’t join the hunt the day Bran fell and strands of blonde hair in the tower when I could tell you for a fact no one had been in there for a very long time.”

He tapped his fingers at the blade and you felt a weight in your throat trying to fight against the words. “The blade?”

Lord Stark laughed meaninglessly. “The blade belongs to Tyrion Lannister.”

For all that you knew him, and for as different as he seemed, you couldn’t find it in your heart to see such traits past the blood of who he was and who his family was. “How do you know?”

The answer, you liked even less. Lost in a bet to the Lannister during a tourney, the previous owner knew who it now belonged to without any doubt, beacuse it’s previous owner was Petyr Baelish.

You were finding it increasingly hard to figure out who you didn’t like more in this city. Luckily for Tyrion Lannister he in fact, wasn’t in the city so he found your newfound anger towards him unobtrusive. Not as lucky for you, sitting at the small council you found too many men in the room you didn’t trust as far as you could throw.

Lord Varys avoided much interaction with you has he did your father, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t fully aware of every step you had taken in this city and no doubt others. You dared not think about how much he really knew, not that it mattered much now, but you didn’t appreciate the concept of lording information over another head to make them dance.

Lord Baelish was as trustworthy as he was kind, meaning none. A self serving worm who had no care for anything or one that didn’t give him either money or power. Though, you did consider him to be the less offensive to look at only if in comparison to the bloated faced man standing before the council.

Lord Janos Slynt, Commander of the City Watch was nothing short of an insult to the eyes. Patchy facial hair that didn’t quite sit well over the slight pudginess of his face that wouldn’t be a problem if it weren’t also always plastered with a high and mighty look as if he knows better. Standing before you, speaking of his struggle to keep the peace in the streets.

His voice covered itself in slime. “It’s the Hand’s tournament that’s causing all the trouble, my lords.”

An exhaustion sat in Lord Starks shoulders, his tone annoyed as his posture to the idea. “The King’s tournament. I assure you the Hand wants no part in it.”

Your father didn’t care for Lord Stark personally, but at least they would agree at such a waste of expenses. Being Master, or in your case, acting Master of Ships didn’t mean you were not painfully aware of how much spending your assets should be restricted of just to amuse the growing relentlessness of the King.

Slynt continued. “Call it what you will Lord Stark, the city is packed with people and more flooding in everyday. Last night we had a tavern riot, a brothel fire, three stabbings, and a drunken horse race down the Streets of Sisters.”

Your eyes narrowed, voice loud and yet even with little emotion behind it. It unnerved many how similar you were to the unwelcoming and bluntness of your lord Father. “Discipline should lie with the capabilities of a commander. If you cannot keep the King’s peace during something as innocuous as a tourney, perhaps the City Watch should be commanded by someone whose ability we can rely on.”

Oh the fire in his eyes as he glared at you, spit coming from his mouth as it did his worse. His chest and cheeks puffing like a frog. “I need more men.”

Lord Stark had the final decision however, and you would never dare go against or even speak up against it. Such a thing was not your place, nor would you let it be. “You’ll get fifty, Lord Baelish will see it paid for.” Your own harsh gaze, bordering on a glare peeling over to the Master of Coin seemingly surprised by the notion. Lord Stark’s order firmer then ever. “You found money for a champions purse, you can find money to keep the peace.” Turning to Slynt, “I’ll also give you twenty if my household guard until the crowds have left.”

Giving more men to the one who didn’t know how to command them with fairness was not quite how you felt about such actions, regardless of how the rest of the council didn’t agree. Was it too harsh of a stance, or was it a firm position influenced by what you already knew was incompetence. Janos Slynt was not someone trustworthy, but as long as he got paid he would do the bare minimum.

You and Lord Stark sharing a glance as he relaxed somewhat. “The sooner this is over the better.”

Lord Varys leaning forward, tone as even and light with hope as he could paint it. “The realm prospers from such events, my Lord. They give the great a chance at glory, and the lowly a respite from their woes.”

Legs crossing over the other you sat back in your seat. “It’s not glory those men need more of, Lord Varys I can assure you. They have quite enough of that to go around.”

Lord Baelish leaning far too close to make eye contact with a sly grin. “And yet it puts coins in many a pocket, my Lady. Glory has filled every Inn throughout the city, and the whores are walking bow legged with every step.”

Grin growing more detestable as you looked from him with an uncomfortable glare. Your dear Uncle did not help the matter as he spoke up, a laugh in his lungs doing so. “We’re fortunate my brother Stannis is not with us. Remember when he proposed to outlaw brothels? Robert had asked if he’d like to outlaw eating, drinking, and shitting while he was at it.”

The force to not roll your eyes tested your every power of will. Every sense of faith in a man like your father that they assumed he had suggested or done so on Dragonstone for the superficial. Many Lords in the capital were keen on keeping your father at an arms length and you couldn’t help but speculate how much was truly just his personality, and what was fear deep down.

Afterall, he had two living children, and four which had passed before they could become your brothers. Clearly it wasn’t sex itself that was what he disliked about the premises.

Lord Stark looked to you instead of bothering to even entertain this discussion, calling your name. “You haven’t heard from Lord Stannis have you? He has not formally passed is place on the council to you, I’d have to guess he intends to return from his visit at some point?”

Neither of you said it to the current company, but Lord Stark didn’t quite appreciate the treatment of his new daughter by marriage. Sending you off to be wed out of nowhere, not accompanying or letting your mother or sister come to see you married, and then dragging you away from his son after one night to act on the council in his unexplained absence.

It was unfair to you and Robb, and it also sat rather suspiciously that you had been kept so terribly in the dark with this, and whatever your father had been investigating with Lord Arryn.

Lord Baelish’s tone was as mocking as ever, looking right at you. “No doubt he’ll return as soon as we’ve scourged all those whores into the sea.” You could hear Renly laugh somewhere to your left.

Standing abruptly, you smoothed down your skirt and nodded stiffly. “Until tomorrow, my lords.” As you stepped away you muttered uncaring if you were heard or ignored. “I’ve heard quite enough about my father and whores for one day.”

Renly’s laughter bothered you the whole way out of the small council chamber. You and Lord Stark had business to inquire of Grand Maester Pycelles but you found yourself perfectly content with waiting out of ear from mocking of your lord father for one day.

Words from the night before long since burned in the light of one of your rooms candles, in your pocket now sat one of you own writing and a new one sent to you. A raven from Dragonstone had surprised you only as long as it took to see the neatness of the letters.

Shireen was outraged that she missed your wedding. Had asked a million questions, what did you wear, who attended, did Winterfell have a nicer sept then they? That one you were going to have to explain another time that in your new life, you found more peace in the way the Starks followed that of the old gods. More questions of what is the capitol like with the new hand, was Robb as handsome as she was picturing. A question which even in the privacy of your own room, made you fluster a bit.

Only your dear sister could have you ready to spill about a man your married too, in ways like you were still a girl her age with a petty crush. Her letters always long, and always excited to hear what her well travelled big sister was doing regardless of how little you ever wanted to tell the truth of it anymore.

She was just a child, a rather innocent one at that. You wondered what father told her of the reason behind his sudden return home. Thinking to the two girls you returned to the city with, they too, were too young to have to be around this den of masks and liars. At least Arya’s needle was a bit more of protection then that of Sansa’s naivety.

Grand Maester Pycelle’s office was unbearably stuffy. The scents, the thick air and the mixture of whatever liquids sat both around the surfaces and tucked away into cupboards did not make the heat of summer any easier.

His frail voice seeming having gone on for far too long, “The smallfolk say the last year of summer if always the hottest. It is not often so, but it can feel that way does it not? On days like this, I envy you northerners and your southern snows.”

Both you and Lord Stark standing by his desk, it felt as if he was ready to dismiss before why an audience was requested in the first place. “I’ve been hoping to talk to you about Jon Arryn.”

To his credit, the Grand Maester had the patience to look surprised by the subject but not suspiciously so. “Lord Arryn? His death was a great sadness to us all. I took personal charge of his care, but I could not save him.”

Eyes narrowing slightly with a tilt of your head, you considered back to your own insights. “Did he seem sickly to you before the fever hit him? He hasn’t seemed like himself for some time but it never struck me like a physical ailment.”

Considering the idea, the Grand Maester himself looked a tad shamed. You doubted there wasn’t much he could do, and yet you could see similar feelings of confused failure in like your own once Maester Cressen. “His sickness truck him very hard, and very fast. I saw him in my chambers just the night before he passed. Lord Arryn often came to me for counsel.”

Lord Stark bluntly asking, “Why?”

Your insides rolled over at how indigent and offended the man instantly became at Lord Stark’s mere question. Nothing but worry over pride and image for such people. “I have been Grand Maester for many years. Kings and Hands have come to me for advice since-”

Voice raising enough to speak over him, you cut his tongue back down with the sharpness of your own tone. “Why did Lord Arryn seek you out, the night before he died? What did he want?”

The answer, only brought more questions.

Bringing you and Lord Stark closer in his office to a shelf, many large tomes sat across them as he shakily dragged one onto his desk. Landing it down in front of Lord Stark with a thud. “The lineages and histories of the great houses of the Seven Kingdoms. With descriptions of many high lords, noble ladies, and their children.”

Watching Lord Stark pull off the metal clasp and tossing it down, the book was loose and not well made but the pages inside were vast on thick paper filled to the brim with words in many styles of writing in many degrees of faded letters. Flipping through multiple pages until he landed on one at random, Lord Stark begun reading out one of the passages.

“…blue of eye, brown of hair, and fair complected. Died in his fourteenth year of a wound sustained in a bear hunt.”

Head tilting as he sat back down, “As I said my Lord, a ponderous read.”

“Did Jon Arryn tell you what he wanted with it?”

A slight shake no, of his head. “He did not, my Lord. And I did not presume to ask.”

Skimming the pages, you barley glanced at them before looking up to meet the Grand Maesters eyes but did not find him hiding much behind them. Nothing pertaining to the conversation at least as Lord Stark continued his inquiry. “Jon’s death, did he say anything to you during his final hours.”

Instinctively he denied, “Nothing of import, my Lord.” before pausing his hand raised as if to collect his thoughts within them from his older mind. “There was one phrase he kept repeating. The Seed is Strong, I think it was.”

Your eyes narrowed, “The seed is strong? What does that mean?”

No curiosity in his eyes, “The dying mind is a demented mind, Lady Stark.”

Whatever he said right after, was missed in the brief second of childish notions, much like what Shireen always tried to dish from you. Some familiar just called you by your name, others stuck to the simple My Lady, others such as Ser Jaime Lannister only switched between names in mocking as if there was something usual about a highborn lady taking on the House of their husband.

But hearing Lady Stark so casually, shouldn’t have clicked such a second of girlish glee as it had. You pulled yourself together though, hoping neither noticed your stammer of formality. Lord Stark beside you continuing, “And you’re quite certain he died of a natural illness?”

Grand Maester Pycelle seemed taken back, alleviating guilt at how quick his confusion at such a suggestion was at least ticked a name off your list. “What else could it be?”

Lord Stark seemed like he however, knew what his answer was. “Poison.”

Unwilling to think of such a crime, he shook his head in denial. “A disturbing thought…I don’t think it likely. The Hand was loved by all, what sort of man would dare-”

Your eyes and Lord Stark’s flickered to the other for just a moment, your voice without accusing if only in pure read of your words. “I’ve heard it said poison is a woman’s weapon.”

“Yes. Women, cravens…and eunuchs. Did you know Lord Varys is a eunuch?”

The spinning of mistrust once more, not the game neither you nor Lord Stark cared to get involved with now or ever. Enough was on your plate as it was. There was no conceivable thought of what Lord Varys would gain from murdering Lord Arryn in your mind. Then again, Lysa had named the Lannisters and yet you too had no idea what would be gained by that either.

Nor what trying twice to murder an innocent ten year old boy wold gain. But the signs all pointed to the golden lions.

Finding Arya near the top of the steps balancing on one foot, you smiled. Taking the tome from Lord Stark to his office for him so he could inquire what her dancing teacher had her practising now. Earlier he had commented to you that it felt like everyday Arya came back with new bruises or scratches with a worried furrow in his brow.

You simply had held back a smirk, “If I recall that’s exactly how everyone found out I was learning to sword fight when I was her age.”

Lord Stark had laughed much easier, running a hand over his stubble. “It took us that long to find out because you and Jon would sneak out at night so neither of you would get in trouble.” The first few lessons did have a lot of Jon hitting you harder each time until you got fed up and learned to block properly. “You should be thankful it was me who caught you and not Cat.”

You were twelve at the time, Jon fourteen and even all those years ago still far stronger then you. You couldn’t have imagined how much trouble he would’ve gotten in were it now your own father who caught you two one night.

Sitting now at Lord Stark’s desk, you had been mindlessly flipping through the book. Pausing at random pages before coming across the current accounts of Baratheons. The King first, and his children, then your lord father and his. Including all four which never made it, and a sickening description of Shireen as “disfigured” from her greyscale.

Renly when he thought neither or your father in ear had often referred to Shireen as “that ugly daughter of his” and you hated it. She would’ve been far worse had your father listened to the other Lords. Send her off to old Valyria to be of the stonemen before she infected the whole of Dragonstone.

Dancing over her name with your tapping finger, you told yourself not to. Biting your tongue before your weakness overtook and flipped to the pages of the current Starks. Glancing down to Lord Eddard Stark, then that of Robb did you pause. Shireen asking if he was handsome and certainly the drollness of a Maesters documents did nothing to answer that.

But your eyes skipped down. Looking to the description of Eyes of Grey, black of hair and the beginnings of the letter ‘S’ coming into sight did you slam the book shut with an angry huff. Your best friend for so long, and now his memory tainted with feelings which you both were forced to tear away from.

You’d love to just think of Jon the way you could Theon. Fond memories that weren’t anything more, and none which made the flutter in your stomach getting used to your new husband feel shameful. Hearing Lord Stark’s footsteps you stood up from his seat, leaning against the wall to the side with your arms crossed your chest.

Closing the door behind him, “Do you know a Ser Hugh of the Vale?” Head jolting back you found nothing with such a title and name until Lord Stark elaborated. “He was Jon Arryns squire.” Your lips parting in recognition you turned to look back at him confused. “He was knighted after his murder.”

“Knighted for what?”

Tilting his head he almost smiled. “That’s what you’re going to find out.”

Ser Hugh as it turned out, was exactly the kind of glory seeker you knew didn’t need more cheers and gold bolstering his ego. Down in the open field where they set up the tourney, you recognized him at least while he was in much more average attire. Still nicer then what you recalled he wore as a squire.

“Ser Hugh?”

Your footsteps towards him quick and long, your voice not shouting and yet projecting enough to startle those around as the man turned annoyed towards you. “As you can see, I’m busy.”

Busy taking steps, yes a task needing great concentration to a man of his calibre. Your eyes narrowed in the bright sun making you look far less tolerant of such an attitude. Renly once had said that between the flowing dresses, the light fabric of an equally as long cardigan with hair that looked far nicer unrestricted by whatever styles these girls in the capital pretended were fashionable, you might actually attract a suitor once in a while were it not for you being a perfect copy of your father’s morose and drab glare.

“I’m here on behalf of Lord Eddard Stark, Hand of the King-”

Not giving you a second chance, he waved you off. “Well run along and tell your master if the Hand wishes to speak to me, he should come himself. Knights don’t have time for a servant girls questions.”

Turning and stepping along the path you resisted the urge to see his head smash into the wooden railing he walked beside. There was no point in arguing, he seemed unlikely to be honest if he did answer any questions, and you and Lord Stark had a much more promising visit far down in the streets of the city.

“He said he’d only be willing to talk to the hand himself. A knight such as him.”

You and Lord Stark glancing at the other with a vapid smirk, of course how could you have been such a fool to dare ask anything of a well seasoned warrior such as Ser Hugh of the Vale. Intrepid Knight of Half a Day.

“Ah, a knight. They strut around like roosters down here. Even the one who’ve never seen an arrow coming their way.” The armoury Lord Baelish had directed you towards approached quickly. Sounds of yelling and barters all around and children play fighting in every direction.

Many eyes looked towards the pair riding down the path. Either such a sight was unusual to them, or perhaps all too similar. The Lord Hand and Master of Ships travelling down the poor city streets looking in the same places for the same people, only months after the last pair did the same to no known success.

“We should be careful out here alone, my Lord. There’s no telling which eyes belong to who.” Glancing at him, he seemed unaffected by the idea. Climbing off your horse as he did too, you both steeled in a natural air of cold confidence. Working beside Lord Stark for you was easy, you couldn’t however imagine such an easy pairing in Lord Arryn and your own father.

“Let them look.”

Tobho Mott greeted you both with upmost respect, seemed to be much more relaxed with your presence then he did mention of your lord father. Lord Stark beside you prompting the conversation moreso. “What did Lord Arryn and Lord Stannis want?”

“They came to see the boy.”

Lord Stark saying he’d like to see him as well, Tobho nodded and turned into the forge where the consistent smashing of metals stopped banging. “Gendry,”

Easy to see from his demeanour, it was clear he was likely either incredibly lowborn, or even a slave must to your dismay. He didn’t look at either you or Lord Stark in the eye, standing straight and respectable, but did not think he had the right to make eye contact.

You stood still, trying to see what it is that would be on any interest to the lords before. Not just that, what was seen which scared your father back to Dragonstone, and Lord Arryn into the grave? The three men went back and forth for a while over the ornate bulls helmet which he had made himself, easing the pair into the inquiry.

His voice didn’t give much away, but a tint of attitude which wasn’t unfamiliar. Taller then, you, his hair was dark to the point of a deep brown and by your guess would be a a little younger then you. Lord Stark changed subject, “When Lord Arryn came to visit you what did you talk about?”

Not looking still, your eyes narrowed as something pricked at your skin. “Just as me questions is all, milord.” Next asked if your father had ever questioned him, was a rare moment that made you break a smirk and eyes lit up with an amusement not often seen of you in Kings Landing. “No, he never said a word. Just glared at me like I was some raper who done for his daughter.”

Mott turning and raising his voice. “Watch your tongue boy. This is Lord Stannis’s own daughter you’re speaking too.” Turning to you with sincere apology in his eyes you couldn’t seem to look away from Gendry. He apologized, but you only found yourself looking at him with a more scrupulous gaze.

You tried, but whatever pricked at your skin settled over every corner of it until you wanted to twitch with unease. Lord Stark spoke for you, sensing that you were seeing something close to what he was slowly putting together. “What kind of questions did Lord Arryn ask?”

“About my work at first. If I was being treated well, if I liked it here. But then he started asking me questions about my mother.”

You spoke up before you could stop yourself. “Your mother?” Gendry specifying he meant just who she was and what she looked like, you continued to speak first unable to keep the intensity away out of your gaze on him. “What did you tell him?”

“She died when I was little. She had yellow hair, she’d sing to me sometimes.”

You couldn’t say why it clicked, but it did. Stepping forward you were sharper with him then you may have intended, “Look at me.”

Meeting your eyes, you felt that sensation shiver through your body like you had just been tossed in a river. There was no denying what it was you were seeing. Had you not known better, you could’ve mistaken Gendry for your own brother. The green eyes wide and bright, hair so dark and thick, the strength in resemblance of his facial structure and all linking back to why the snark of attitude pinged at you.

Almost in shock you leaned back, glancing to Lord Stark who briefly flickered to meet your eyes with an unsettled understanding of what you were seeing. You didn’t like what you were feeling in any way. Lord Stark handed him back the bull helmet, “Get back to work, lad.”

Diligently, he left further into the forge and the hammering started once again as Lord Stark spoke quietly to Mott. “If a day ever comes that boy would rather wield a sword then forge one, you send him to me.”

Coming up to Renly’s quarters, your head was in a spin and something told you to go anywhere that wasn’t where all your questions had laid. Knocking on his door, you almost jumped back in surprise by the one who actually answered.

Taller then you with a darkish dirty blonde hair rung up into curls that most girls you know envied with passion, Ser Loras also stood before you shirtless in a manner you amusingly knew a certain young redheaded Stark would’ve had her cheeks turn just as red at the sight off. Luckily for you, the shock on his face and the smirk on yours already knew the story better.

Walking in as you brushed past him, you raised your eyebrows at your Uncle now rushing to cover his own chest as if you were stupid enough not to know. “My Lady, apologies we were just-”

Turning to Loras beside you, you smirked wider with a playful squint in your eye. “Ser Loras, a word of advice. If you wish your private affairs to remain private, maybe don’t answer my Uncle’s door when you’re both still shirtless and this one’s still in bed.” You nodded over to the annoyed Renly.

Loras couldn’t decide if he was annoyed or horrified, but left as soon as he could be considered half way presentable. Door closing behind him, you walked in further, leaning against Renly’s desk. “I know discretion isn’t your strong suit Renly, but maybe if he’s trying to keep it a secret at least pretend you two aren’t locked up in bed half the time.”

Rolling his eyes, he reached passed out to pour himself wine. “Aren’t you missing your tournament?”

Shaking your head at his offer of a glass to you, “Oh am I Hand of the King, now?”

Glaring, he rested beside you against the desk as he sipped. “Spending enough time with him, it’s easy to mistaken I suppose. Much like my dear brother seemed.” Glancing beside you, you said nothing as he continued with mocking joy. “Jon and Stannis spend an increasing amount of time together only to stop when one of them dies and the other runs away out of reach. Only difference is the Hand this time is a wolf, but the Stag stays the same. Or are you a wolf now too?”

Pushing off smug with himself, you crossed your arms. “I married into a house of wolves, my name is theirs now, I suppose yes dear Uncle I am a wolf now if such a distinction matters.” Titling your head you were far less amused now and much more openly accusatory. “Does that make you a rose, or just a stag stupid enough to let roses tie themselves around him?”

He glared at you, “My relationship-”

“I’m not talking about Loras. Not for that. I’m talking about the less time you spend doing your duty the more I seem to find you spending time whispering with the Tyrells.” The guilt on his face grew tenfold as you slammed more to the open air. “You didn’t hide very well what your plan for his sister was, Margaery was it?”

Oh you hit a wound. Renly face twisting into a snarl unbecoming of someone like him. “Plan?”

Crossing your arms you didn’t move an inch but your eyes trained on his with scrutiny. “What was it my father said you planned, trying to make dear Margaery, Robert’s whore?” He paled but you didn’t let him blabber. “Everyone in the seven kingdoms knows he’s got enough of those, so I have to ask why exactly try to send the pretty girl from Highgarden into the bed of our well rode, drunken King, and then you yourself having the same ride by her own brother?”

He shrugged, but did not do well at hiding his anxiety. “You and Stannis are missing out, Tyrells are quite interesting in bed.”

You raised your eyebrows. “So are wolves, I’ve found.”

“Did you come here for this or what?”

Pushing up you walked more to the middle of the room. “No, actually I came here to ask if you’re going to the tournament tomorrow.”

Renly’s eyes flickered side to side, “Most likely. Why?”

You shrugged, losing all pretense of suspicion for now. “Just wondering if I’ll have someone to talk to who doesn’t make me want to tear into my palms.” Renly laughed, telling you this was the wrong place for that.

Sitting down on the edge of his bed, for a brief moment he looked actually concerned. “I know I joke about it, but the capital doesn’t suit you does it?” He smiled when you shook your head no. “You know every time you came back from Winterfell you looked miserable. You hated coming back here and each time you come back a little more fed up then the time before.”

You said nothing as you looked blankly at him. There was nothing to deny, coming back here was always the worst and it never stopped being the worst until you were back with the Starks.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to your wedding.”

You shrugged. Not the answer or even emotion he expected, but you were just looking at him.

The wide bright eyes, the shape of his cheeks, jaw, the colours in those eyes and the darkness of the thick hair he was so bad at letting grow out just like your father. All you could think of was what in those looks scared your father out of the city.

What did he find in those looks that was so bad it got Lord Arryn killed. You and Lord Stark had many clues but no hints except for one glaring one. You had returned to the horses, nearby where Jory had been waiting.

When he asked if you two had found anything, you hadn’t been quite the same since realizing what Lord Stark had. All you could see when looking at Renly now, was what Lord Stark told Jory then.

Something that had no right being a clue to such a dark mystery and yet here you were, standing before water as murky then ever only this time it was your own kin that was being told as the dangers to look out for.

Gendry wasn’t just a tiny clue of no meaning, somewhere in Lord Arryn’s death was a page about finding King Robert’s bastard son.

[live-laugh-lenney]

Thinking about george as a husband now 😭😭

For some reason in my head when it gets to the time where they’re considering having a baby, george is the one who brings it up and wants it first, he’s the one dropping hints and talking about it while his wife is just living her life 😭😭

this turned into some angst... unsure why but enjoy!

"i found a new desk for you."

"i don't need a desk?" george questions, looking over his shoulder to see his wife leaning up against the doorframe to their spare room, his editing for a new youtube channel video going forgotten about on his laptop once her voice broke the silence he was sitting in, "i have one right here."

"i thought we could redecorate in here," she suggests, arms folded over her chest and her eyes wandering from where he was sat in his revolving chair to the empty space around him. the bare walls white and bright once the sunlight filtered through the window, the carpet still looking brand-new and untouched, not a single piece of furniture to give it an office-feel. "it's quite boring for you, no?"

"i figured we could use this room for something else," he admits softly and he pushes his feet into the carpet to push himself out from under his desk, turning in the seat to face her properly, "two bedrooms and all. one for us, one for... i don't know, one for a baby, maybe."

"a baby?"

he nods shyly and she stares at him, eyes wide and her mouth gaped open, her mind going blank for a response to his admission.

they'd only been married for less than six months and they'd only just moved into a brand new building; where they'd lived in her flat for the majority of their engagement, they wanted something completely brand-new. something that had both of their names on the lease and had both of their names on the bills.

"babe, did you-"

"i heard you," she interrupts him and he gulps back the thick lump that was forming in his throat, "george, i-"

"you're not ready, i know. i'm just saying," he stands from his chair and walks over to stand in front of her, "in the future, i mean. when it does happen, and we do end up having a baby, it's a good idea to just be prepared."

"but, i don't know right now," she sighs heavily, "of course, i want to have babies with you. have mini clarke's running around. but we're still young, george. we've got the rest of our twenties to think about having a family."

"i know," he smiles softly, bringing his hands to cup her face in his palms, "i'm just telling you i'm ready. i'm waiting. whenever you want a baby, i'm game."

"okay," she nods, tilting her head into the touch of his left hand, his thumb brushing soft strokes across her cheek, "but we can't leave the room with just a desk and a chair in here, george. we should, at least, add a some new furniture or something. it still feels brand new and we've been here for three months already."

"show me this desk then," he snickers softly.

and that's that for the conversation.

and george didn't want to dwell on the topic anymore knowing what he feelings were towards the next step of their relationship. he was willing to wait until she was ready, willing to talk about their options if she wasn't, willing to stand by her side as she figures her own life out as well as the life they were building together.

but sometimes, all he wants to do is talk about his future.

with the wife of his dreams, someone he loves and someone who can understand him in ways others can't, he was the happiest man in the world. the smile on his face looked like it could split him in two when he realised he got to go home to her at the end of the day. knowing he gets to hold her whenever he wants to give her a hug and to kiss her whenever he wanted a cheeky kiss in passing. making dinner for her when she's had a long day and starting his day with a breakfast made by her. getting to see her walk through the door in the evenings and getting to hear her drop her keys into the bowl on the side table once she arrived back from work. getting to cuddle on the sofa as re-runs of their favourite shows play on the television.

it was the life he had envisioned.

but deep down, of course, he wanted a baby.

-

"so, george," max starts off, watching as his useless hotline co-host took a sip of his drink from the mug in his hand, "we're nearing a year since the wedding. how on earth has it gone that fast?"

"i don't remember you at the end of the altar in the wedding dress," george retorts with a hint of sarcasm dripping from his mouth and he snickers softly at the swift middle finger thrown in his direction from the blonde-haired boy opposite, "but yes. it's been nine months. gone too fast, honestly. i'd do anything to go back to that day."

"it was a gorgeous ceremony," max says, resting his elbows on the desk beneath him and resting his chin on his hands, "i doubt you had anything to do with that."

george snorts and shakes his head in his direction.

"i did, thank you very much," he insists, "i helped choose our venue. i chose the colour scheme and i chose what flowers we had for each person in our wedding parties. with some guided assistance by yn but she let me choose the final part."

and it was true.

yn was impressed at how he had taken an interest in everything they needed to plan for their wedding day; everything except the wedding dress which she refused to let him know anything about. a stickler for the superstitions that came with getting married and he was more than okay with that. she loved how involved he had been, how much he listened and how he had everything planned out in his head... she was, at least, excepting herself to do a lot of the organising but felt a huge weight lifted off her shoulders when he offered his own ideas to help ease her mind.

it was their day and he wanted it to feel like it.

"is there any talk of babies yet? we can only hope that there are mini-yn's running around instead of mini-george's," max cackles and all george can muster is a roll of his eyes, "is that a roll of the eyes at the question or at me?"

"at you," george says with no hesitation, a smirk on his lips, "we've touched on the subject briefly. yn just wants to enjoy being young and free, enjoy us as a married couple, enjoy our twenties before we get tied down with babies and the responsibility of raising someone in this world."

"but what about you?"

"what about me?"

"you said yn wants to enjoy life right now but what about you?" max asks and george feels his cheeks heat up, telling himself to blame it on the lights and the heat of the room if anyone picked up on the matter, "i'm surprised you didn't knock her up on your honeymoon."

"i mean," george shrugs and sits back in his chair, bringing the mic with him as he moved further from the tabletop, "we did a lot of practicing on the honeymoon, anywhere and any chance we had, if you get my drift," he laughs loudly and max pulls a face of disgust, "no, i'd love kids. i'd love a baby, of course i would. a little bit me and a little bit of yn mixed into one human being. it's a dream."

"but?"

"but nothing," george insists, "like i said, we're just finding our feet in the world of marriage, it's only been nine months, so we want to take time in creating a family."

"uh-huh," max nods slowly, dropping the subject there and then to save any awkward conversations later on, "practicing is just as fun as the real thing, anyway. once you have a baby, it all stops."

"like you'd know," george retorts and max covers his heart with his hand, "anyway..."

-

the tension in their flat was thick enough to suffocate them.

when he'd come home from a chrismd video shoot down at the local 3g football pitch, for a football video that would go out on his channel in the near future, he was met with the silent treatment from his wife. confused and unsure of what he'd done, he tried to coax it out of her but to no avail... until she burst on him when she couldn't contain her emotions for much longer.

"you just need to talk about it, don't you?"

"talk about what?"

"you just can't drop the fact that i don't want a baby right now, can you?" her voice is thick with anger, her cheeks bright red and her eyes were dark and he honestly wanted the ground to swallow him whole so he didn't have to look at her. "what don't you understand about my feelings, george?"

"i understand you clearly," he responds only to receive a scoff back in his face and it was evident to him that she'd listened to the newest podcast episode that was scheduled for release that day, "what?"

"i told you how i felt, three months ago, george. i told you i wanted to wait to have kids, i told you we had the rest of our twenties to figure everything out, i told you i wanted to live my life without any heavy responsibilities," and he noticed that when she was angry, she used her hands to accentuate her words, his eyes focusing on the way her fingers scrunched up and how she pointed her pointer finger at him everytime she referred to him, "but you speak about it on the podcast and think i'd be okay with that?"

his gulps are thick as he tries to find the right words to say... although he knew, in that moment, anything he said was going to be ignored.

"i'm not okay with that," she grumbles heavily, shaking her head at him and he felt a pain in his chest like a knife had pierced through his ribs, "it's private information, george. our private life. we spoke about this."

"max asked me-"

"you could have ignored the question, told him you wanted to keep that to yourself," the tea-towel in her hand got thrown on the island in the middle of their kitchen area after she'd finished drying off her wet hands and her feet padded across the floor of their open-plan front room, in the direction of the dining table where she'd laid out plates and cutlery for their dinner, "why are you making me out to be a bad person?"

"i'm not-"

"you are!"

"please don't shout at me when i have no idea what's going on," he tells her and he can see her pause for a moment before continuing to clear up the dinner table, "what are you doing? dinner's done soon."

"i'm eating in the bedroom," she mumbles lowly, "i don't want to sit at the table and look at you right now. i'm angry with you."

"okay," he admits defeat, his words full of remorse and upset, and as toes off the trainers on his feet, he swears he can hear her mutter something beneath her breath but he couldn't bear to bring himself to ask what, "call me when dinners done. i've got some work to do so i'll be in the office most of tonight."

she hums in response and he bends over to pick his trainers up from the floor, walking into the entryway of their home and setting them down on floor beside her work shoes, and it kills him to walk away from her when all he wants is to work things out and argue until both of them are blue in the face. he can hear the gentle intakes of breath as she tries to calm herself down and he takes one last glance at her, as she rounds the island and steps back in front of the oven, and he can feel his stomach aching from the guilt that was building up.

he never meant to upset her.

he didn't think he said anything wrong... but it dawned on him how it may have sounded to her. how his words came out with the intention of answering the question as bluntly as possible without giving away their own private talks and could have been taken the wrong way by yn and how she felt targeted with the topic.

but for now, as much as he wanted to apologise, they needed a bit of time apart for the night

-

he's deep in thought when he hears a knock on the door.

his eyes were stinging from the bright light of the laptop screen that sat open before him and his hand was cramping from the way he was holding his pen tight in his hand, his notebook full of scribbles about upcoming video ideas he could do for his channel and who he wanted as a guest on each one, the silence being so comforting that he was knocked out of his distant look once the sound had disrupted him.

"george?"

he looks over his shoulder and sees yn standing in the doorway. one of his t-shirts hanging down her figure, a pair of tube socks on her feet to keep her toes warm, and a knitted blanket tucked around her shoulders and dragging across the floor behind her. in the bright light of the screen illuminating the room, he can see her wet cheeks and he feels his heart break.

"i'm sorry," he whispers softly and she shakes her head, "no, baby. i am. i should have just dropped the subject when you told me how you felt."

"no, i shouldn't have overreacted earlier."

he turns in his chair and sets his pen down on his notebook, giving his thighs a pat as an invitation for her to come and sit down with him, smiling warmly when she accepted his offer and walked towards him. enveloping her in a tight hug and adjusting himself in his seat as she wraps her arms around his shoulders and curls up on his lap.

"you have feelings, just as much as me," she admits, bringing a hand up to tickle her fingers across his cheeks, "you understood how i felt so i need to understand how you feel."

"but it's a big life decision and i should respect your feelings more," he says and she frowns, "besides, i'm not the one who has to go through all the changes with a pregnancy. i won't be one to develop a bump, i won't go through the emotional changes, i won't have to actually give birth to the baby and deal with the pain. that's all you."

there's a comfortable silence that lingers in the air and she sighs just to break it.

"i know how badly you want a baby," yn admits, "and i do want babies with you, george. not just one but four. there's nothing i want more. but, right now, we have so much of our life to live together. lots we can do before we have a little one running around, so many places to go and see. don't take me not wanting a baby right now as me not wanting babies at all. i want a baby george running around."

"i know," he presses a kiss to her forehead and lets his lips linger on her skin, "i want to enjoy us a little more, too."

"i'm sorry for my outburst," she hides her face in the crook of his neck and he shakes his head softly, "i was just... scared, i guess."

"i'm not going anywhere, little rascal," he murmurs into her hair, "you are stuck with me, i'm afraid."

"there's scarier people in the world to be stuck with," she jokes and looks up at him, his mouth dropping open, "i'm kidding." xx

[maximoffromanoffs]

You’ll always be my baby

Even now that others class me as an adult, to my family, I'll always be the 'little one". In some situations I hate it. I mean when we're at one of stark's many parties and everyone's acting like it's too late for me to be out and not in bed.. it gets super annoying.

Now don't get me wrong I love them all, so so so much. But they're so protective over me since I'm the 'baby' that it gets annoying sometimes.

I've not been feeling so social lately, after coming in from school I kind of disappear into my room and only leave if I really need to. I just can't be bothered, I can keep putting up a front so I don't want to see anyone. Is that realistic? No. But it's not going to stop me trying.

As soon as I step into the compound I'm headed for my room once again. This time I pass Natasha, Wanda and Steve who are sitting in the living room, and once I walk past I try to force a smile on my face, not entirely sure what it looked like to them, today was particularly tiring. I'm sure my eye bags are very much present and my hairs thrown up into an incredibly messy bun. But I don't really care anymore.

Before I can walk out of the room, someone's hugged me tightly from behind. I only notice who it is when a long strand of red hair falls over. Wanda pulls me back with her until I'm seated between her and Nat with Steve next to Wanda.

I try to get up but then Wanda just pulls me down onto her lap and holds me tightly, resting her head on my shoulder. I keep a straight face, honestly not wanting to show them any emotion, even when she repeatedly kissed my cheek trying to get me to smile, I just can't. She gives up but still keeps tight hold of me asking "what's up, sweet pea?". I don't respond so she pulls me back a little so her cheek can rest against my own, mumbling a "huh" as she sways our bodies.

I try wriggle out of her tight hold, I'm not a baby anymore, I need to prove I'm not a baby anymore. I'm sick of people at school making fun of me for how the rest of the team treat me like I'm incapable and just a stupid child. I'm sick of people commenting on how incompetent I must be.

Wanda tries to calm me down whispering in my ear "woah calm down sweet pea you're okay, it's okay, I've got you, just calm down my love". The way she tries to sway me like you would a baby pushes me over the edge with my anger and I start swinging my arms to get out of her hold.

After only a few seconds though , Nat grabs hold of my arms, and pulls me into her grip instead, where she stands and carries me upstairs to her room, uttering a quiet "don't worry about it, I'll sort it" to Wanda and Steve who she leaves in the living room.

Nat feels so much stronger than Wanda as it's practically impossible to get out of her iron grip she has on me. That doesn't stop me from throwing a fit, genuinely like a two year old, and hitting her back and kicking my legs to try get her to stop carrying me again LIKE A BABY. IM NOT A BABY.

She doesn't even say anything in response, she's simply moves one arm to under my legs to keep them still and does her best to keep my arms from hitting her. In about 10 minutes, which took her way longer to get me upstairs than it should have, we reach her room.

I've actually never been in here, sure she's been in my room a couple of times but I've never come in here.. the others say she's super private about her room. They say she likes her own space to help her feel safe. I calm down thinking about this, just as she lays me down. Nat places the blanket over me as I snuggle into her pillow and inhale her scent, making me feel more comfortable and calm.

After some time of just laying there calming down, I look over to see Nat sat on a sort of rocking chair in the corner of the room. After a couple minutes she notices my gaze is on her and gives me a little smile before asking "you okay now?". I just turn around so I'm facing the wall, not wanting to talk.

I hear her sigh and some shuffling before a weight behind me dips the bed. She gently stroked my back whispering "hmm,  you okay", I shrug this time in response. Then she asks "hey what's up baby?". I used the love that name, lots of the others calls me it too. I am the baby of the group. But now that I'm being made fun of by people at school I don't like it anymore. I suddenly shout at her "I AM NOT A BABY".

I see her jump and her eyes glaze over a little, not expecting the sudden scream from me. Before she starts slowly nodding her head but still looks super confused. "Honey... I know you're not a baby, I um.. well...", hearing her stutter I instantly feel bad, so I turn around to face her and subconsciously place my hand right by hers.

We just sort of stare into each others eyes for a few minutes, in an incredibly intimate moment for the two of us. Then Nat takes a deep breath and explains "so I know everyone else on the team kinda adopted that name for you because I mean you're the little one of the team, so it seemed fitting. I um.. suppose it's come to feel like you're my um daughter... in a way and so it seemed right for me. But I'm not going to call you it anymore, it's clear you don't like it and I was stupid to think that anyway".

I give a little shake of my head and whisper "I just don't want people to think I'm a baby".

N: "Ba.. hon I, we don't think you're a baby.."

Y: "No but they do"

N: "Who does?"

Y: Mutters "people at school"

"Oh sweetheart, people can be horrible for no good reason. I bet those people don't have anyone who treats them like we treat you and so they're jealous of that. Don't let their comments get in the way of you and us. Just talk to us, and let us help you. We all want what's best for you, lovely". She says this while stroking my face, going from my cheeks to my nose and my eyebrows.

My eyes glaze over again at her words and I see she pouts at me, before opening her arms to offer a hug. I don't move feeling guilty, as a tear rolls down my face. She wastes no time reaching forward and pulling me practically onto her lap, holding me tight as my head rests on her shoulder. I cling to the back of her shirt, letting her hold me for a moment.

That's until I gasp, and she kisses my temple asking "what baby?" And I mumble "was so mean to wanda", I feel Nat nod her head, "maybe a little, but she'll understand my love. should we go see her?", I give a subtle nod again, and let out a squeak when Nat just stands up holding me, Instead of putting me down. I hear her chuckle at my reaction, as she stares at me for a moment then whispers "you'll always be my baby", kissing my cheek a couple of times. I blush at her actions, and continue to let her carry me back down to wanda.

Once we get to the living room she puts me down, and I stumble over to wanda with my head down. She looks up from her phone in concern and pulls me to sit in front of her this time, which I note is different to usual because of my reaction before so I start to tear up once again. She also refrains from asking me what's wrong again, so I mutter a quiet "I'm really sorry wanda", before glancing up at her. She frowns cupping my face and shaking her head a little "can I hold you now?", I instantly nod my head, so she pulls me onto her lap again, into the same position as before snuggling her cheek against my own.

Nat comes and kneels in front of me asking "tell you what, shall we have a girls night tonight?", I give an excited nod, making both girls laugh at me as Wanda shifts slightly to press kisses to my cheek, then Nat leans to kiss my other cheek, their actions making me giggle until they eventually stop.

I turn my head looking from Nat to Wanda until I say "thank you both, for everything.. I love you so so much",

Nat replies for the both of them "we love you too, baby, so so so much".

[tenderleavesbob]

Hi!! Anon from before, I meant the fic where the chain see each other again but Wild is missing/not there yet :) sorry for the confusion

Aaaah. That makes more sense! This fic. Here you go!

When their adventure ended and Warriors returned to his life as Captain Link, he accepted that it was the end of their time together. He felt blessed as it was to have the opportunity to not only see Tune and Mask again but to fight alongside the new heroes. He didn't expect to receive such a blessing again.

He stepped out of the portal and into preparations for a new war.

The breaking of Ganon's bindings had left them fragile. Even with the Master Sword sealing him back in his prison, no one expected them to hold Ganon for long. They needed to prepare for the new battle.

Impa introduced him to their new weapons. Rather than fighting another war and sacrificing their people to Ganon's madness, they would create divine beasts to join their hero and Hylia's daughter into battle.

"It was a good idea," Warriors admitted, rubbing his chest. "We underestimated him, though. He didn't have the Triforce anymore, but he was still empowered by it." He grimaced. "He was also mad as hell."

Wind pressed against his side. It was still strange to see Wind as tall as him. Wind showed him what he had actually looked like when he died, and Warriors cried at how old and strong his boy looked. He was still crying as Wind scolded him for dying so young.

"It almost worked, but we relied too much on him being similar to how he was before," Warriors said.

Legend tsked at him and shook his head. "Amateur mistake."

"Leg!" Twilight hissed.

Warriors grinned at him. "He's right. It was." He tapped his chest. "This time, it did cost me my life. I won, but no one expected..." He waved his hand vaguely. "Whatever that was. It was nasty. Took all of my power to take it out."

"His Malice," Twilight said. He frowned. "Wild mentioned it."

Warriors shrugged. "It certainly kicked my ass."

Time leaned against him from his other side. Spirits shouldn't have weight, but Time did. A dead man shouldn't be warm, but he was. He was comforting and smelled like the forest around them. "If I'm right about the timeline, it'll be a long time before we see Wild. Your sacrifice will keep Ganon at bay for a long time."

Warriors hummed and didn't respond. They all knew enough about Wild's timeline to know how that would go. He just hadn't realized that he was the hero right before Wild. He had hoped that he would be able to change it, even if it messed up the timeline again. Better prepare them after they used the Divine Beasts.

Twilight kicked Warriors's shin. It didn't really hurt. Nothing did anymore. Warriors still yelped. "I see ya thinking. Knock it off."

Legend grinned. "Don't tell him to knock it off. He'll never be able to start up again!"

Everyone started laughing again. Time kept his hand pressed over Warriors's heart.

His death had been immediate. He had seen the death blow but hadn't felt a thing.

"So now what?" Warriors asked.

Hyrule plopped beside Legend with Four right behind them. Their chain wasn't complete yet. It wouldn't be for centuries. It was nice, though, for all of them to sit together like this, safe within the Great Deku Tree's forest. The forest spirits laughed and chattered around them, and Hyrule resembled them as he offered them the fruit he and Four had gathered. "Now we eat!" he chirped.

"And wait," Four added, passing some of the fruit to Wind and Warriors. "We did our time."

"Sorta," Twilight said drolly. Time snickered.

They didn't need to eat, but the fruits of this forest were good for more than mortal sustenance.

Sky watched all of them quietly, a content smile on his face. In death, he glowed even brighter than life. Under the shadow of the trees, he shone like their own sun. "We're together," he said simply. "We'll watch over Hyrule the best we can and support Wild when it's his turn. For now..." He accepted a golden apple from Hyrule. "We eat!"

"Do you think we could make beer from this?" Twilight mused.

"Or wine?" Warriors offered.

That started everyone off again, including cheers when Wind reported that he knew how to make moonshine. Warriors watched his brothers, far more content in death than he ever expected.

For now, no more battles.

For now, they could rest.

And eat.