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catsteeth · 5 months ago

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The Caged Bird & The Leashed Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 11 ✿:+ A War for a War

Chapter Index | Next Chapter

Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it.

CW: MDNI, NSFW themes, VIOLENCE, misogyny, angst, the boltons, drugged, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence, mentions of arranged marriage, minor character death

A/N: did i say this would be published monday? yeah. is it 3am on tuesday? yeah.

Word Count: 4.6K

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

As Sandor laid on that rock in agony. He was bloodied and his bones were broken, his leg was the worst of it. He laid there and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to get up and walk out from those Vale mountains.

The Falcon was his only company. You sent Lenaera to him as a signal to him that you were alive, that you were in the Eyrie, that you knew he had come, that you needed him.

Though he already knew. He already knew all of that before the bird came.

But now that he lay on that rock at the bottom of a cliff, he laid there thinking of all the terrible things he had done. How he deserved what he was given. And the worst thing he could think of that he had done was failing you.

That horse he saw in the stables could have been some other high bred white mare, or it could’ve been found by a Knight of the Vale and brought back without its rider.

You could have been murdered, you could have been sold, you could have been.. Something even worse.

And if you were, what was this bird? A beautiful, strong Falcon with a blue ribbon around her ankle.

He groaned in pain and shouted and the bird did not leave. It hardly fluttered its wings. He did not scare it. Maybe because the bird could recognize he was a dying man. Maybe because it was waiting for him to die so it could eat him.

But, he thought, if you did die, Gods forbid it, but if you did, maybe that bird was you. Or some form of you, a sign sent by you in the Seven Heavens. Maybe, or maybe his agony and blood loss made him think silly sentimental thoughts. Death does that.

He looked at the falcon perched on a rock. As the sun shined down on the magnificent creature he let out a labored breath, giving in to his sentimentality, “Are you here?” He asked you, only you weren’t there. “I keep seeing that bird, a fucking falcon with a blue ribbon.” He grumbled, “Is that you? You die, and you come back like that? How fucking cruel is that.” He laughed but the laugh forced a bloody cough out of him, once the cough settled he sighed, looking at the bird. “I miss you.” He admitted reluctantly, even when the Stranger was approaching he found it hard to admit it. “I think about you all the time.” He felt the emotion rise in his throat and tears well up, “I hear you in my dreams, your voice.” He shook his head, “I just miss you, simple as that.” When he finished, Lenaera let out a loud caw! And fluttered her wings, still staying by the dying man. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. Can’t hear your voice.” He said, still wanted to believe that bird was for you. Lenaera tilted her head at Sandor. He sniffed and swallowed his emotion and nodded, “Aye, it’s time. I’ll be seeing you. Maybe. Or Maybe I’ll be in the Seven Hells and you the Heavens. Maybe I’ll be lucky and keep hearing your voice.” He said, closing his eyes. He was content to die now, his eyes were closed and he was at rest as the stranger approached him. But only it was a real stranger, not the old god.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Your body felt slightly numb, and your nerves calmed. You began to open your eyes slightly fluttering open, when you finally mustered the strength to open your eyes you looked around at the blue and silver carriage. The same one that you and your father took to King's Landing. You could tell that the carriage was not moving, and from the light coming in from the closed blinds of the carriage you could gather it was nearly night.

You rubbed your eyes and groaned, “Where-” You began until an armored glove covered your mouth.

“Sh!” You looked up at the man who silenced you, in full armor but his eyes shining through his silver helmet were familiar.

“Ser Cole?” You whimpered, still under the heavy fog of whatever had taken you.

He lifted the helmet so you may look upon his face, to see his true concern. “My Lady, please listen to my words. It is important that you listen.” You tried to widen your eyes, blinking hard in an attempt to focus them. “Baelish arranged your marriage to Ramsay Bolton. You were to leave this morning however, Baelish said that you were feeling ill and that you’d better be taken to Winterfell and examined by a maester. However I believe it was an illness brought upon you intentionally. Because you’d not accept it so easily.”

“Where am I now?” You asked sitting up from the plush silk seat that you were laying on, Ser Cole knowing better didn’t help you.

“You’re in your carriage, halfway to Winterfell.” He held his head lower, “Baelish has stepped out to…” He stopped trying to find a more delicate way of phrasing it.

“Just speak,” You whined as you held yourself up

“Piss, my Lady.” He spoke quickly

“Right.” You nodded,

“When he returns, be agreeable.” His speech picked up, he knew his time was limited, “Play along.” He must have gathered a plan while you were deep in a drug induced sleep.

“I can’t go there, Ser Cole.” Fear rose in you. You knew if you walked into Winterfell you wouldn’t be leaving it.

He nodded, “I know that. I will not let them.” His conviction was strong.

“How many men are out there?” You questioned,

“Fifthteen.”

“You can’t cut through that many men.” You said to him as if you were pleading he’d see reason.

“Command them.” He said as if he were tried to plead with you to see reason

“I’ve no power, I tell them to stop and Baelish will tell them to continue-”

He boldly interrupted you, “You have more sway than you may believe.”

Your eyes narrowed on him, “Tell me what you know,”

He looked behind him to be sure Baelish wasn’t approaching yet, “In short summary, My Lady, a little over half the men would follow you if you commanded.” He turned back to you, “Believe that. Believe in your blood.”

Ser Cole heard the “She has awoken…” He said calmly as he stepped to the side, allowing Lord Baelish to enter the carriage. He looked over at Baelish who was looking at Ser Cole with an expectant look, “My Lord.” He finished.

“Thank you, you are dismissed.” Baelish said insincerely, his voice filled with annoyance.

“The Lady wanted water.” He said handing you his pouch of water. You grabbed it with hast. You drank it down quickly, you hadn’t asked for it but it was true you needed it. Ser Cole starred at Baelish as you chugged it down with desperation.

As you wiped your mouth with your sleeve finally finished with your drink, “Alright, now you are dismissed.” Ser Cole of course looked to you, waiting for your decision. An action that did not go unnoticed by Baelish, “No, Ser Cole will ride with us.” you said confidently.

Baelish shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “My dear, I believe we’ve important matters to discuss, best discussed in private-”

You interrupted him, your eyes sharp and your tone dark and unfitting with your formal words. “Ser Varys Cole is sworn to me.” You lied, “He rides with me.” You said sternly as you moved over, allowing room for him to sit beside you.

As Ser Cole sat beside you, he slammed the carriage door closed. Almost making Baelish flinch. As he closed the door the carriage began to move again.

Bealish tried to assess the situation best he could, “How’re you feeling?”

“Is that the matter of importance you wished to discuss?” You practically spit your words at him. You knew Ser Coke had a plan but you’d a better and much more satisfying one.

His eyes lowly gazed on you, narrowed and predatory, “Please.”

“I feel anger.” You said plainly, “Though It is creeping toward a contemptuous homicidal rage.” You said with dark and intense eyes.

He took a moment, finally speaking, “I can understand-”

You interrupted him again, unwilling to hear his words. “Can you?”

“A House without change is a dead House. And there is an air of quiet death in this house and I do not like the way it smells.” He attempted to once again rationalize his stance.

“Is that why you slipped something in my tea?” You questioned. Baelish looked at Ser Cole who only stared back at him with the same venom that you had.

Baelish’s eyes returned to you, “You felt ill, no doubt from your overindulgence the night before.” Ser Cole’s grip on his sword tightened.

“And you used the opportunity to throw me in a carriage.” You responded quickly.

“The Maester was in the Gates of the Moon. You are aware of how long he takes.” You knew what he meant. Your mother. When she labored you were with her alone with a few handmaidens. The Maester was at the bottom of the Gates of the Moon. It took him far too long to come, by the time he did your mother was already gone and the babe was in your arms taking labored breaths. The memory surged through you. But instead of despair filling you, only more and more rage did. “Besides, we were meant to leave for the North this morning. Having you sleep off whatever was burdening you until we arrived in Winterfell seemed best.” His tone was careful and calculated.

“I am not going to Winterfell.” You were stern, and your anger created a dark cloud over you. “You will take me to Castle Black.” It was a split decision but a smart one.

He smirked slightly, letting go of whatever facade he had, “You forget whose carriage you sit in, you forget the direction you are headed.”

“The Lady of the Vale has commanded you.” Ser Cole spoke with a deep and low conviction.

“The Lord of the Vale has commanded her.” Baelish snapped at him,

As he did, you grabbed the dagger from Ser Cole’s belt. You lunged forward on top of Baelish placing the blade to his throat. You felt your own spirit split into two. Battling one another. If you killed Baelish, the power would not be left to you, no you would be thrown in a sky cell and left with Robin to decide your fate. But Gods you wanted to. Wanted to rip his throat out, watch the light in him fade. His memory dwindles over time. You wanted him dead and you needed to be the one to do it. But it would cost you the Vale.

Baelish began to reason with you, pleading. “I have been loyal to you. I took you away from danger and sheltered you from your enemy. I put my own life at reset sheltering you within the Eyrie, I put the Vale at risk doing so. I protected you-” “By killing my aunt.” You almost growled at him.

“She was going to kill you, not to mention she’d admitted to the murder of your father.”

“A murder she'd committed for you?” You pressed the blade against his throat harder, slightly drawing blood, Baelish winced, you took ultimate pleasure from it.

“Not by request.” He pleaded.

“She was mine to kill.” Your eyes were wide, terrifying.

His breathing picked up, “I’m sorry.” It was all he could think to say.

“I will give you an opportunity. Explain to me your intentions.” You needed to hear it, needed to know what he had in mind, maybe it would give you the motivation you needed to finally kill him.

“Marry Ramsay Bolton. Poison his father, soon thereafter Ramsay himself. You’ll be Queen of the North.” He spoke with hast

“I don’t want the North.”

“The Vale. You want the Vale.” He spoke erratically as your blade still pressed deeply against his throat. “Once the Boltons are dead, you’ll marry me.” You sneered in disgust, “You’ll be queen of the North and restored Lady of the Vale. You’ll be more powerful than any woman in the realm.” He forced a smile,

You leaned towards the carriages window, “Stop the carriage!” You shouted, leaning forward into Petyr again, “If you won’t give it to me, I shall take it myself.” You spoke sternly as you removed the blade. He grasped at his throat, a small amount of blood trickling down his throat and hand.

You turned to open the carriage door when you looked over to Ser Cole. His face was one of not shock but a pleasantly surprised one.

You opened the carriage and stepped out.

“Lady (Y/N), are you alright?” A knight asked as Ser Cole followed after you.

You looked to the white horse tied to the back of your carriage, Lika.

You pointed to her, “Untie that Horse.” You commanded but the Knights attention was diverted when Baelish stumbled out of the carriage.

He began to loudly scold, “(Y/N), If you abandon your arrangement-”

“Your arrangement.” You loudly corrected back as Ser Cole mounted his own horse.

“If you abandon it, it will leave me in an uncomfortable position.” He pathetically pled,

You scoffed, “Don’t turn this on me, I don’t want your cloud over my head.” You looked again to a knight, “My horse,” you commanded again.

“(Y/N), Tyrion Lannister has wed Sansa Stark.” The words hit your heart like a steel blade. Though she’d be better off with Joffrey, she was a child, “I hear she is very eager to flee her own cage.” He said with a dark and devious tone.

“My horse!” You ignored him, commanding once more.

The knights did not budge, some were conflicted and confused by the scene laying out before them. Ser Cole then loudly reaserted, “The Lady of the Vale has commanded you.”

The knight looked at Ser Cole with disdain, “We’re under the command of Lord Baelish.”

You held your head high, and spoke with clear conviction, “You are sworn to serve the Vale under House Arryn. My father Jon Arryn is dead but the Arryn blood is not. You’ve sworn allegiance to my blood, to me. Let it be known I (Y/N) Arryn, rebuke the succession. You can either stand with me, or against me.” As you finished another Knight climbed off his horse and retrieved Lika from the back of the Carriage. Baelish stared daggers at the Knight but he did not care. As you Mounted Lika, Ser Cole then announced,

“Swear anew your oath to (Y/N) Arryn as your rightful Lady of The Vale, Keeper of the Gates of the Moon, Defender of the Vale, and Warden of the East. If you support the usurper let it be known now. But let this be known if you swear loyalty only to choose treachery later, you’ll die a dishonorable death.” As he finished, nine of the fifteen Knights left their positions and aligned with yours.

“(Y/N), my little dove.” He attempted once more to manipulate you, using the name your late mother would call you.

“I want you to remember these words. If you choose this fight. You will die, screaming.” You said, as you tugged on Lika’s reins, turning her away and pushing her forward. The men followed, and of course Ser Cole was by your side.

“My Lord?” A knight asked, wondering if he should detain you.

“Let them go.” Baelish said, still holding onto his bleeding neck.

And so began the war

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Sandor opened his eyes, he was in a warm tent, surrounded by candle light, in a comfortable cot wrapped in a blanket.

He coughed, getting the attention of a shorter man with hard hair, “The fuck am I?” He asked, his voice was hoarse.

The man looked a bit surprised to be hearing the wounded man speaking, “In a small hut.” He replied with an amused smirk.

Sandor looked around with only his eyes, he hardly even had the strength for that, “(Y/N), (Y/N) where is she?” He asked, his words shaky and unstable.

“No one by that name here.” The man shook his head, his eyes narrowed on him. Curious of him.

“I gotta- got to find her.” he spoke as he shook his head restlessly attempting to get up,

The man placed a single hand on his chest, pushing him back into the cushioned cot below him, “You’ll find her later. Your bone snapped in half, you need rest.”

Sandor was slightly breathless, “Thought I was dead.”

The man nodded, “Thought you did a few times. Even when I found you, your leg was broken and you were covered in blood and bugs. Tried burying you but you coughed, nearly shit myself.” He laughed to himself,

Sandors eyes weakly tried to focus on the man looming over him, “Who are you?”

“They call me Ray, I’m a septon.” His tone was calming to Sandor,

Sandor closed his eyes, wincing from the pain in his now bandaged leg, “I don’t want to hear a sermon.”

Ray laughed again, “Wasn’t planning on telling one.”

“Ye all are.” Sandors voice was gruff and deep.

“You’ve met many?”

His eyes still closed tightly from the pain, “Met enough to know.”

“Must’ve been a big man to cut you down.” He said, looking at the massive man who laid on the cot in front of him.

He shook his head “It was a woman.” He corrected weakly,

Ray laughed as he left the tent that held the wounded Hound. Leaving him to only stew more on the thought of you.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

As you rode on now further North than you’d ever been, you looked behind you. You felt a growing sense of power. Two of your men had left you, going back to Eyrie to gather more men. And even though you’d only seven men, you knew there’d be more. And only more would follow.

You looked then to your new companion, he was the closest thing to a Hand that you had. So you might as well treat him as such. “Ser Cole,”

“Varys, my lady.” He smiled at you, you smiled back slightly. Pleased with his insistence of familiarity with you.

“Varys, tell me about Jon Snow. Do you know anything about him?” You asked, your eyes narrowing slightly.

He nodded, “Yes my lady. Words have crinkled down from the North that he rose from the dead. Rumors of course but as I have heard it’s been done before. He’s been released from the Night's Watch and is forming an army.”

You looked at him somewhat confused, “An army? An army for what?”

“An army for the dead, my Lady.”

You raised an eyebrow and scoffed a bit, “The dead? Ser Varys, am I traveling to see a mad man?” You teased,

“Less mad than the man you were originally traveling north for.” You nodded in acknowledgment.

You looked back at him, with a soft earnestness in your eyes. “What of Sandor Clegane? Has there been any news of him?” You asked as if there was no emotion. But there was indeed quite a bit.

“No my Lady.” He spoke softly,

“Arya Stark?” You asked again, emotionless. Though your tone deceived your true emotion. And Ser Cole knew that.

“No my lady.” He spoke again in the same softness.

You took a deep breath in, allowing all your anxieties and sorrows to be pushed down, changing the subject to avoid more emotion, “Well if an army he needs he shall get it.” You looked back at the road ahead of you, “A war for a war.” You said as you tighten your grip on Lika’s reins.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

A week had passed, Sandor had made a surprisingly quick recovery, however his leg was still too weak to journey yet. So he took it upon himself to help the struggling sept build their community.

As he sat alone, eating the meal the commune had prepared. He looked up at the sky, blue and bright. It, as all things did now, reminded him of you.

He wondered where that falcon had gone, he missed it somewhat. Maybe it was you, maybe- he couldn’t finish his thought before he heard a familiar voice behind him,

“I think some of the other men are a bit afraid of you.” Ray said, stepping towards Sandor, handing him a drink.

“I’m used to it.” He said washing down a mouth full of bread with a cup of ale.

“(Y/N)” Ray said softly, Sandor looked up at him quickly, his eyes filled with anticipation, “You mentioned her name a few times when you were laid up.” Ray questioned softly, He pointed to Sandors bad leg. “She does that, do you?”

“No.” He asserted quickly, he looked back down to his bowl, “She was…” He struggled to admit it,

“Your woman?” Ray gathered,

Sandor nodded softly, “Aye. Got separated a ways back. Could be alive or not, don't know really.” He shook his head as he held it low.

Ray sighed, “If she’s meant to be here she will be. I thought you died a dozen times. You were stinking and covered in bugs. A bone sticking out here. But you kept breathing.” Sandor looked at him, “What kept you going?”

He thought about it for a moment. “Hate.” He nodded.

It wasn’t really a lie. He hated what the brotherhood did to keep him from you, hated the Lannisters for what they’d done to you, hated Baelish for stealing your land, Hated his brother for what he’d done to him. But mostly he hated whoever might have harmed you.

“No, there's a reason you’re still here.” Ray studied Sandor,

“Yeah I’m a big fucker and tough to kill.” He said, taking another bite of the bread in his bowl.

“No, the reason.” Ray asserted, standing in front of Sandor, “God’s not done with you yet.”

Sandor scoffed, “I've heard that before, man was talking about a different god though.”

“Maybe he was right, I don’t know much about gods.”

Sandor chuckled slightly, “You’re in the wrong line of work.”

“Oh, there's plenty of pious sons of bitches who think they know the word of god, or gods. I don't. I don't know their real names. Maybe it is the Seven. Or maybe it's the Old Gods. Or maybe it's the Lord of Light, or maybe they're all the same fucking thing. I don't know. What matters, I believe, is that there's something greater than us. And whatever it is, it's got plans for Sandor Clegane." Ray hasn't revealed that he knew who he was before. Sandor was slightly taken aback.

But Sandor sat with the words for a moment.

He looked at him, his gaze vulnerable but hard, “You didn’t know me back in my time, you don’t know the things I’ve done.”

Ray looked at him with a deep look, a darker one, “I’ve heard stories.”

“If Gods were real, why haven’t they punished me?” He found himself asking genuinely,

“They have.” Ray said, before walking away.

He wasn’t wrong. He was left not knowing if the love of his life was dead or alive. Left haunted by your scent and your memory. Haunted by the touch you gave to him.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

As you approached the looming black castle. You’d never seen such a thing.

You turned to Ser Cole beside you.

“Grimm looking place.” You said wearily.

He leaned in closer to you, “You can do this, My Lady.” he said quietly only to you.

Your eyes focused on Castle Black, assessing it, “Even if I can’t, I have to.” You said quietly but sternly.

And with that you pulled the reins of Lika, pushing her forward, and your men followed behind you.

꒰ ୨୧ ─

Jon walked across the training yard to his commander’s chamber when he noticed Tormund looking into the Dining Halls.

Tormound turned around and noticed Jon walking closer, giving a look of confusion.

“You’ve a beauty waiting for ye’” Tormound said,

Jon raised an eyebrow as he opened the door to the Dining Hall. He saw you and Ser Cole, with seven other knights. You and your men stood.

“Lady Arryn?” He asked, taken aback by your unannounced presence.

“Lord Commander.” You lowered your head in respect,

“I’m not the Commander anymore.” He said walking towards you,

“I’m afraid I don’t know what to call you.” You smiled softly, trying your best to be friendly. “You are my cousin's blood. And so by some length I suppose you and I share some kind of… familiarity.”

“We don’t.” He said

You took a brief pause, giving up on an attempt to establish any kind of familiar relationship. “I hear you’ve seen the dead, walking.” Your eyes narrowed,

“Aye. Beyond the wall they march.” He spoke with an earnest fear.

“You’re building an army?” You asked

He nodded, “Aye, My Lady. I’ve been traveling to many great houses to ask for their aid.”

“But not mine?” Your eyes narrowed even more,

“Northern Houses. Besides, I’d rather not do dealings with Littlefinger.”

You almost interrupted him “Littlefinger is not head of House Arryn, Jon Snow, I am.” You said defensively, Jon was slightly taken aback, he nodded to your words, “I’ve not seen what you have. I cannot say that I am convinced, though I’ve no reason to assume you’d lie.”

“You’ll give your men?” He asked with a raised brow,

“I will.” You nodded, but before Jon could thank you, you continued, “But this exchange would need to be mutual.” You held your head high, “As you said you rather not do dealings with Littlefinger and recently I as well as more than half of the Knights of the Vale have decided the same.”

“You’ve rebuked the succession?” He took a step closer, his words sounded somewhat accusatory.

“The Lady of The Vale has claimed what she is owed.” Ser Cole spoke,

You raised a hand implying for Ser Cole to stop, “I have. The vale is a large and strong land. The Eyrie itself has never in three thousand years been breached. It would be invaluable to you and your armies.” You spoke with confidence, “If the house swayed in my favor, I would sever all ties with house Lannister. I would do it whether you offered aid or not. But I would join your forces. My house would swear obedience to yours. The Knights of the Vale would be at your service.”

“But you don’t have that?” His voice again turned to one of accusatory.

“I have half that.” Your confidence unwavering

“But not all of that?”

“Do you want the men or not?” You brought the confrontation to a dead end.

He thought about it in deep thought. “Will it be enough?”

“It will be.” ‘it would have to be’ you thought, you held out your hand “A war for a war.” He shook it.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

As Sandor laid in that cot that was far too small for his body whilst being nursed back to health, he would often hold a pillow against his chest. Pretending it was you. Though it didn’t have your scent, your body's warmth, your plumpness, your weight, but it was all he had. He tried to remember the way your ways would look into his.

Your eyes always spoke loudly, they told him everything you felt.

From anger, sadness, fear, lust, ecstasy, and his favorite was joy.

Gods he wanted you badly. Like water, or wine preferably.

He laid there and thought of you, of all of the gentleness you gave to him. He didn’t deserve it, he knew that. And yet here he was dreaming of it at night. With his cock hardening against the soft fabric of the cott he laid in.

He moved off his bad leg rolling onto his stomach, using his strong leg to hold himself up as he clutched the pillow in his arms and grinded into the cott.

The pressure against his aching length was good, but it did not compare to the satisfaction only your cunt provided.

Gods he thought of how perfectly you fit with him. Your body molded to his and his to yours.

He rocked himself into the cot whilst he tried his best to remember how your walls would tighten against his cock, how your lips would find his.

He missed the wetness of your cunt, the plumpness of your breasts, the softness of your body.

He remembered the first time he’d taken you, truly and properly. You’d taken him so well, it was as if he’d been made for you. You held him so sweetly as his cock pushed in and out of you.

A sweetness he’d not ever forget. He needed you badly that was for certain and all he had not was a pillow and a cot.

“Seven hells” he hissed as he reluctantly filled back back into his back and pulled himself out of his breeches and began to stroke his length. He imagined the sounds you’d make. The beautiful moans of pleasure that you’d sing to him, the lustful and vulgar sounds your cunt made when his cock slipped in and out of you.

But what always had done him in was your eyes. Gods your beautiful beautiful eyes. They showed no fear, pity, or disgust. They showed a love he’d never seen before. How warm and soft they were- “Fuck!” Sandor hissed as he spilt his seed out onto his stomach.

Perhaps now he’d be able to sleep. But of course he couldn’t.

꒰ ୨୧ ─

Later the next morning, Sandor was deep within the woods and far from the community. He was finally well enough to walk and run further and further from the commune. That’s the way he liked it. Being far from the rest. He didn’t need any men and he certainly didn’t need any women.

As Sandor chopped wood, he heard a scream, a scream of a woman. Sandor dropped what he was doing and ran as well as he could with his limp he still had.

When he finally reached the sept everyone was massacred, and Ray, the closest thing to a friend he’d had since you or Arya, was hanged in the middle of the sept he helped build.

He picked up his ax and went hunting.

Hunting for the men who did what they did.

NOTE:

Does this one lowkey suck? Yeah. And what about it? This is going to serve as a good catalyst for the next chapter I promise.

K love you, xoxo

Bambi

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hotgirlssupportlando · 2 months ago

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one day x lando norris pt 4

this is a part of my series following one day of every summer from 2016 onwards in y/n’s and lando's lives, exploring their friendship and love for one another. ofc not a smooth ride with some angst and fights along the way. a friends to lovers, growing up together kind of thing. read first part here pairing: lando norris x fem!reader summary of this part: y/n attending lando's first home race in f1, but her expectations weren't really met warnings: kinda sad :( wc: 1,4k a/n: probably a couple of sad parts now in this series but bear with me!! a one day -series can't only be rainbows and butterflies hehe

summer of 2019

Silverstone Circuit, England

y/n was beyond excited getting her invite from lando to attend his first ever home race in f1. she couldn’t believ that the random boy she had met a few years ago now was one of the top twenty drivers in the world. seeing her best friend advancing in the sport truly made her proud, who would’ve thought he’d be going this far? since day one she had always supported her friend both on track and at distance, nowadays most through late night facetime calls as she was still in Edinburgh studying and Lando traveling all around the world.

however, now after being months apart the pair would finally meet again and oh my, was she excited!! she couldn’t help but smile sitting in the taxi on her way to silverstone, headphones in listening to her and landos shared playlist. she fiddled with her mclaren paddock pass that already, proudly, was hanging around her neck, closely reading (for maybe the hundredth time) that all the personal information was correct, it would be just typical lan to spell something wrong and causing her trouble. as soon as the paddock pass had arrived in the mail at her uni dorm she had started planning her outfit, carefully picking out clothes and accessories that would perfectly match the colours on the pass. as the self-conscious being she was, she wanted to be prepared, not wanting to make a fool of herself or lando by turning up as a girl who didn’t look like she belonged there.

now she was sat stroking her new white dress, contemplating whether it was too boring or too much, and what would lando think, would he like it? and why didn’t she take the other dress instead, it would have looked much better! her mind was racing, overthinking every little thing that came to mind and her worries quickly aggravated looking outside the cab window at all the beautifully looking fans that stood waiting outside the paddock hoping to see their favourite drive appear from one of the taxis. oh well, she thought, there’s nothing i can do about it now. she took a deep breath before exiting the car, shyly walking toward the entrance where she blipped her paddock pass and quickly rushed away headed towards the big mclaren sign in the distance. overwhelmed by the situation she just wanted to see lando, knowing that his presence would calm her nerves.

after some walking she finally arrived at the mclaren hospitality, almost immediately spotting jon, lando’s trainer. ”hi we’ve only seen each other through facetime but i’m y/n l/n, landos friend”, she said approaching jon. ”oh hello, i thought i recognized you from somewhere!” he smiled, ”you’re probably looking for lando?”. y/n nodded smilingly. jon looked around a bit worried, telling her that he should be here somewhere but that his schedule had been a bit hectic this race day morning. she was offered to wait in the hospitality while jon was gonna go tell lando that she had arrived. with a good mood she went and grabbed a tea, sitting at a table that overlooked mclaren’s part of the pit lane.

after scrolling a bit on her phone and texting her friend, she saw in her periphery, more specifically in the garage, a familiar looking boy. he was giving some fangirls a tour around the garage, letting one and one test sit in his car. he looked so happy, being in his element. after a short while jon approached lando, and by his lips y/n could read something about her arrival. landos reaction was cute, he seemed excited that she was there but didn’t seem ready to come meet her just yet. y/n was just glad she had seen him at a distance and didn’t mind waiting for some time longer, she had already waited several months so what harm could another hour do?

if it only had been an hour or two or even three.. patiently she sat waiting, looking at the clock seeing it was nearly time for race preparations. nope, she thought, if she wanted to see him she would need to take it into her own hands, and that’s what she did. confidently she walked the same route she had seen jon take to the garage and after getting lost a couple times she found a visitor friendly spot. at the same place other high paying fans were stood looking at the team doing their pre race preparations. lando, as the kind boy he was, of course greeted the fans and let them take pictures with him. shortly after he spotted y/n who stood with a huge smile and open arms to greet him in an usual hug, but she wasn’t met by the same excitement. a rather cold and quick hug was what she got, from a boy that felt unexpectedly unfamiliar. a bit caught of guard by the reception and embarrassed by the amount of people that had seen this awkward encounter she felt like running far away. somehow she managed to still ask lando if their agreed meetup after the race was still on, to which she received a short ”yeah, sure”.

stunned from the whole situation she went back up to the hospitality and watched the race in some kind of haze. wtf was that? she didn’t have to be here, lando was the one that invited her there, didn’t some good old kindness include in that package? presumably not then. her thoughts wandered, shocked that the boy she had known for years abruptly was someone totally else, just because they weren’t alone, the two of them, as they usually was. or was she overreacting? maybe it wasn’t that bad. or maybe this was her fault? she could’ve put a bit more makeup on and change the dress so that she would’ve been prettier, maybe that was the problem, that she wasn’t as pretty as the other girls in the paddock.

in the middle of her overthinking someone patted her on the shoulder making her jump of fear out of her seat. ”sorry sorry sorry! i didn’t mean to scare you” a familiar voice half laughed, half tried to sound serious. she turned around meeting a pair of kind brown eyes, it was carlos sainz she remembered, lando’s teammate. ”are you waiting for someone?” he asked. y/n looked at the clock, it was late, somehow she had been thinking about her own problems so long that she hadn’t noticed that the race was done ages ago and that the other hospitality guests had gone home. ”oh yeah, i was waiting for lando, he’s my friend, but i guess he has forgotten about me.. again” y/n said not covering her disappointment very well. carlos smiled compassionately, like he understood, ”i’m sorry.. i remember when i was new to f1, everything’s so new and exciting that sometimes the one’s that has been with you from the start gets left behind..”. ”well, thats assuring” y/n laughed quietly as she felt her eyes tearing up. ”noo sorry, y/n was it? i didn’t mean to upset you, what i meant to say was that in the beginning you get kind of caught up in the fame and girls running after you, but when you settle in to the sport you sooner or later understand who the real one’s are” he said and gently hugged you afterwards. y/n sniffled after the hug ”well i hope so.. this wasn’t at all what i expected from this day” she sighed walking towards the door out of the hospitality. ”i’m certain he will come around, some new drivers take more time than others to realize that all the new attention is just empty and fake, nothing that can compare to a girl that waited the clock around to hopefully see her friend” he smiled trying to cheer y/n up. a small smile cracked on her face as she thanked him whilst they walked out of hospitality together.

they didn’t have to walk very far before she heard lando’s familiar laugh, y/n turning around to spot lando in the distance, flirting with some very beautiful girls, noticing how he didn’t have a thought in the world about his old friend. she felt her heart sink and eyes tearing up again, was she really that forgettable? if anything, it only confirmed all her self-conscious thoughts. carlos that was walking beside her noticed the same as her and immediately connected his eyes with y/n’s, giving her a compassionate look while hugging her from the side. ”don’t you worry darling, remember my words”

_____

taglist

@amberpanda99 @phantomxoxo @landossainz @chezmardybum @lan4cha16 @tvdtw4ever @starlit-skiessss @dorothea47

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space-dreams-world · 11 months ago

Text

DPXDC soulmate prompt au:

Everyone has a soulmate. Even if the way you meet your soulmate is different, you can still feel a click in place. Even with different species, romantically or platonically, and multiple soulmates. ( like one person has by sight, and their soulmate is by touch. Basically, you can have soulmates with the same markings or two different types and still work)

So, Danny, after becoming Phantom and dealing with the ghosts, finally finds a way to shut down the Portal around his last year of high school, and multiple people aren't happy about that, i.e. his parents, the ghosts, Sam, the GIW, and even Vlad as he was banking on the fentons for his shit to work, and he had plans surrounding Danny's family.

He gets run out of town by Amity and his parents after they uncover his secret. Danny then spends the next few years in space, discovering aliens.

(During his disappearance, the GIW are disbanded, Vlad doesn't have access to the zone anymore and asking for him to search in space is a permadeath sentence for him, his parents regret their Gung ho attitude and miss him. In a twist of faith, an accident kills them off, and they are working through their regrets in the zone, waiting to see Danny so they can pass)

Now, as I mentioned at the top, this is a soulmate au, so in Death, Danny is able to get a feel for soulmate, like if his soulmate had a marking for him to recognize even if his soulmate identifier is lock on sight. (He essentially has an advantage of figuring out his significant other as he has his soulmate symbol on him.)

So, whose Danny significant other? Look no further than Gotham depressed himbo dad, Bruce Wayne, whose soulmate identifier is a tattoo of Danny's mark.

This could be pretty early on in his hero career or after Duke is a part of the Bats, but basically, Bruce goes on a space mission with the league and in one of their stints to get info, Danny immediately recognizes Batman's mark which was his soulmate clue. So, Danny, who hasn't spoken human or been on earth in years, has zero in on him,but they don't get to talk before Bruce heads back to earth, but Bruce knows there is something off about the possible alien man.

On Bruce's side, he hasn't seen anyone that has made it work, except if if you want to make it a polycule with Superman. (Dick has his redhead squad or the titans, Jason ends up with Roy or someone else, Tim has Bernard and Kon, and Damian is starting to platonically be friends with Jon. Cass has found her soulmate in Stephanie.

(The Joker is a weird case where he has a soulmate that isn't born yet or died already, or he has no one and that why he is crazy and scars the Bat symbol on him as he sees his enemy with no soulmate either.)

Anyway, something big happens on earth, like an invasion, and the Bat is almost killed before a bright light descends upon the sky and removes the threat. Batman, once recovering his sight, sees the same masked alien man from before. Once they regroup, the masked man removes his helmet, and Bruce finally gets his soulmate connection. Danny has aged significantly since his first departure of earth and attempting to relearn earth's customs and figure out what happened with his family and friends.

( Jazz is soulmates with Talia and is in a secret relationship with her after Damian is made.

Sam is soulmates with Paulina but despises this, which causes her some mental instability, and refuses to acknowledge their bond, somehow still banking on Danny being her knight, and rebrands herself as Pamela Isley or Poison Ivy and finds love in Harley.

Tucker actually renames himself after Amity as Silas Stone and has a child. He works with Alien Tech to see if he can find his best friend again.

Dani is only made after Danny's return to earth but loves her indefinitely as he feels that the Portal had robbed him of a good life with offspring.

And Dan is working on his aggression in the zone.)

#dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom #dpxdc #au #soulmate au #spirit halloween ship #or Danny/Bruce/Clark #ghost zone #infinite realms #eldritch danny #ghost king au

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azzifudd · 6 months ago

Text

streams

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary:

Jon Wanna explain why my friend asked me if it was true that you and Paige were making out at a bar last night

Jose WHAAAAAAT

four times paige & azzi were on tiktok live

rated: teen

2.8k words

disclaimer: you kinda have to know about the lore surrounding all those lives they've been a part of to fully understand this. this is based around existing events, but obviously a fictional interpretation of those events. also a warning that this is sappy as hell

[AO3 LINK]

“Let’s go! Two more points!” Paige’s shout echoes through the room. She stands from the bed and howls at the top of her lungs.

Azzi is unfazed. She knows just how much Paige loves LeBron. In fact, to her embarrassment, she has spent countless nights staring up at his face as she laid in Paige’s bed.

She hears Amari proclaiming that she’s single and sees Paige go over asking to be dapped up.

“Someone said Paige has a girlfriend and I have a boyfriend.”

“Paige does not have a girlfriend,” Inês protests, or maybe it’s Ice, Azzi can’t really tell, too distracted by Paige who has come back over to the bed and is leaning half over her with a smirk. Azzi rolls her eyes, but still returns the soft peck that Paige presses to her lips.

Then she playfully shoves Paige away, letting her get locked into the game again while she reclines on the bed. Almost immediately, she finds herself becoming extremely bored. Maybe she’d be interested in watching if LeBron was getting the record against Steph, but he’s not. Azzi didn’t even recognize the team he’s playing against.

She grabs Paige’s ever present iPad and pulls up her favorite game.

Paige stares back at her, eyes wide and incredulous. “Azzi, we can’t play- Are you serious? She wants me to play a game right now, when LeBron’s about to get the record?”

Azzi pouts at her, but Paige doesn’t give in. Instead, she jumps up, yelling, “Lock in!” as the game returns from commercial break.

But when not even half a minute later, a foul is called, Azzi takes advantage.

“Free throws! Come play,” she demands, and Paige flops back onto the bed without protest. Inês makes a whip motion with her hand, and Paige gives her the middle finger.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Azzi whines.

Eventually, the game starts again, and Paige stands up, shouting about the gameplay. LeBron finally breaks the record and everyone screams in celebration. They all watch the ceremony before Amari begins to wrap up the live.

“Only cuz of LeBron, not cuz of Azzi.” Paige says, when a viewer mocks them all for shutting up at Azzi’s complaint. But she still crosses back from the other bed, laying beside Azzi for some quick cuddle time before she has to go back to her room.

“Paige, someone’s gonna take you to breakfast,” Amari reads.

“Better not.” Azzi mutters, under her breath as the others laugh.

Amari ends her livestream, and they spend a little more time messing around, until they realize that it’s almost curfew.

Ice turns to Azzi’s bed which has been suspiciously quiet for the past few minutes.

“She’s asleep, already?!” Paige appears to be deeply asleep, mouth slightly open and face pressed into the pillow as Azzi cuddles in behind her.

“Shush, you know she has trouble sleeping sometimes.” Azzi whispers over her head.

“Well, she’s gonna have to have trouble sleeping in our room, because I’m not getting in trouble when the coaches come for room check and lover girl is missing because she’s over here being your little spoon.” Ice grabs a pillow from Inês bed and whacks Paige in the face with it.

“Bruh, what the hell?!” Paige sputters.

“Let’s go! I want to sleep too.”

“Ugh, fine.” Paige stands and quickly gathers her things before going to stand beside Azzi’s bedside. Without a word, their friends turn away as Paige leans down to kiss Azzi goodbye.

The next morning, a knock sounds at Paige’s door.

“Ice, answer it.” Paige shoves her head under a pillow.

“You’re closer to the door.” Ice complains.

“Freshman duty.” Paige fires back.

“I’m not even a real freshman!”

Knuckles rap against the door again. “Room service!”

Paige finally drags herself to the door and pulls it open. The hotel employee wheels in a cart full of food, transferring it onto the table in the corner of the room. Paige thanks him and he leaves.

A full breakfast spread covers the table. A small white card sits by itself on a plate at the center of all the food. Ice wanders over, drawn by delicious smells. She picks up the card, snorting out a laugh at its contents.

“Thank you, Azzi.”

Paige’s face scrunches up with confusion before she takes the card from Ice’s outstretched hand.

Enjoy your breakfast.

Love, Not Paige’s girlfriend

Azzi wakes to the sun shining directly into her face and her bed moving beneath her.

It’s only when the bed groans in pain that she realizes it’s not the bed that’s moving, it’s Paige beneath her, burying her face into the crook of Azzi’s neck.

“Why do you sleep with your blinds open?” Paige hisses, clearly as hungover as Azzi feels.

“I do not sleep with my blinds open,” Azzi rasps, unable to raise her voice above a whisper as her head pounds. “I didn’t have time to close them after you threw me onto the bed and koala bear’d onto me.”

“You know I get cuddly when I’m drunk.”

It’s an understatement. Azzi is still foggy on some of last night’s events, but she can remember how Paige had spent half the night latched onto their teammates and the other with her hands glued to Azzi’s body.

Azzi throws the blanket over both their heads, hoping the darkness can help them recover before they have to wake up. But before they can get any meaningful rest, a knock sounds at the door.

“Hey, are you guys decent?” Caroline’s voice comes through the door. “I’m coming in, in three, two, one.”

She still gives them a few more seconds. She’s one of the only girls on the team that hasn’t walked in on them, and she wants to keep it that way.

Azzi has poked her head back out of her sheets, but Paige remains hidden, just a lump in the blankets.

Caroline places a bottle of Gatorade and a bottle of coconut water on the bedside table alongside some pain killers.

“Caroline, my angel.”

Azzi sits up, throwing back the pills with a deep swig of the coconut water. She nudges Paige, who simply rolls over and buries her face in Azzi’s stomach.

“Dude, drink the Gatorade.”

Paige cracks an eye, looking up pitifully. “Feed me.”

“Ugh.” Caroline makes a disgusted noise. “Well, when you guys are good, Ice brought breakfast. Not sure how much you remember from last night because you both were pretty gone, but something happened on Ice’s live that you’ll wanna see.”

“Um, that don’t sound too good.” Paige has finally propped herself up to take light sips of the Gatorade that Azzi has passed to her.

“It’s not a huge deal,” Caroline says, clapping her hands together. “Just something you should know about.”

“We’ll be out soon,” Azzi replies, and then Caroline exits, leaving a confused Paige and Azzi behind her.

Azzi sighs and reaches for her phone, shocked to see her group chat with her brothers has over ten unread messages.

Jon Wanna explain why my friend asked me if it was true that you and Paige were making out at a bar last night

Jose WHAAAAAAT

The rest of the texts are mostly them arguing about a clip on tiktok and asking Azzi if it means that she and Paige are coming out.

She tilts the phone to let Paige read the messages.

“What the fuck? Ice! Isuneh!” Paige gets out of bed, suddenly very awake and heads toward the dining area, Azzi following close behind.

A bunch of the girls are gathered at the dining area, some eating and some clearly waiting out their hangovers.

“Good morning, Paige and Azzi! I brought breakfast.” Ice says, her voice sounding falsely positive.

“What happened last night?” Paige questions, taking the last available seat next to Ice and pulling Azzi to sit on her lap.

Ice winces and slides her phone over. “Before y’all get too mad, it’s been wiped from TikTok and not that many people saw it.”

The video is only a few seconds long, a grainy snippet from Ice’s livestream from the night before. The camera pans along the bar, showing Jana, then Caroline deep in conversation with Azzi who is wrapped up in Paige’s embrace. They watch as Paige’s hands roam from low on Azzi’s hips, up toward her back as she turns toward Paige with a hand on her face. And then the camera is jerking and the frame fills with Ice’s shocked expression.

“Bro, you need to warn us when you’re on live. That could’ve been so much worse.” If Ice had kept her camera on them for even a second more, it would have been much worse.

“I’m sorry, but I did! It’s not my fault you can’t keep your grabby hands off!”

“You know I can’t help it. Did you see her last night?”

Even now, Paige’s arms are wrapped around Azzi’s waist, and her chin is tucked over her shoulder as they look down at Ice’s phone.

Ice rolls her eyes as Azzi smiles, pleased at the comment.

Suddenly, the smile drops as Azzi looks sharply at Ice. “No more lives. You’re banned.”

“What?! That’s not fair!” Ice looks pleadingly at Paige, always the more lenient of the pair.

“Let’s just chill on the lives for a bit, aight? At least until this blows over.”

Everyone agrees, and after Ice apologizes one more time, Paige and Azzi take their breakfast back to Azzi’s room so they can get some more sleep.

Paige only lasts three days before she lets Ice and KK back on live.

It’s nearing 11:30 PM when Paige tells Ice and KK that she’s heading out.

“Girl, boo.” KK shoots her a thumbs down. “I thought we were gonna play some more Fortnite.”

“Nah, I’m tired dude. Supervising y’all on live took a lot out of me.” Paige smirks as KK rolls her eyes and Ice, the main instigator in most of their slip ups, muffles her laughter.

Paige leaves them to their own devices, slipping out of the apartment. She doesn’t tell them the real reason she’s leaving early, that Azzi had made it clear that if Paige showed up at her door past midnight, they would both be sleeping alone that night. The girl takes her sleep seriously.

She can imagine how much shit she would get from the girls if they knew how she refused to even consider spending a single night away from Azzi, but she doesn’t care. She just wants to be near Azzi, always.

Paige lets herself into Azzi’s apartment, which is dark and quiet, with all its occupants asleep or on the way. She heads into the bathroom, brushing her teeth with the brush she keeps there, and gets ready for bed.

When she finally makes her way to Azzi’s room, she’s surprised to see light still shining from beneath the crack of the door. She eases the door open, as quiet as she can. She isn’t surprised to find Azzi asleep, with a book in her lap and her glasses falling off her face.

Paige doesn’t try to stop the grin that spreads across her face at the sight. She moves closer, putting the book on the bedside table and carefully sliding Azzi’s glasses off her face. Then, she turns off the light, flooding the room with darkness.

“Mm,” Azzi hums as Paige slips under the covers next to her.

Paige shushes her, trying to ease her back into sleep as she pulls Azzi’s head to rest on her chest.

“Go back to sleep, baby. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

Azzi murmurs something else into Paige’s neck, clearly more awake now.

“Watch out for my boyfriend.”

Paige has already closed her eyes, but they shoot open when she registers what Azzi has said.

“Huh?”

Azzi smiles lazily, stretching her body until she’s pressed head to toe against Paige’s.

“Y’know since I apparently have a boyfriend now, he probably wouldn’t like finding me in bed with someone else.” Their legs tangle together beneath the sheets.

Azzi’s words finally register, and Paige groans in understanding.

“What the hell? How’d you find out already?”

It couldn’t have been an hour since the moment where Paige had had a too visible reaction to KK reading a fan’s comment claiming Azzi had a boyfriend and that she was with him at that time. She hadn’t been able to stop her growing smile, and before she even realized it, she was scratching awkwardly at the bridge of her nose, trying to distract from her reaction and Ice and KK’s muffled laughter.

“Ice texted me, but I’m sure it’s all over Tiktok already.”

Azzi shifts again, until she’s seated astride Paige’s hips, hands splayed across the hard, flat plane of Paige’s abdomen. Paige inhales sharply as the other girl begins a slow glide in her lap, hands immediately find their place among familiar curves.

With a sure grip, Paige guides Azzi into a heavy grind, pulling their bodies together until they are both panting. Azzi dips her head to give Paige a searing kiss, tasting mint and something distinctly Paige.

When they part, Paige snarkily says, “What would your man say about you kissing someone else like that?” But the effect is slightly lessened by how breathless she is.

Azzi reaches down to tug her shirt over her head before leaning down again. She whispers, “Stop talking,” against Paige’s lips. Paige does.

When Azzi texts that she’s on her way over to the hotel, Paige drops Drew off with Ice and heads to the market next door. By the time she’s done, Azzi’s dad has dropped her off at the front.

It’s been just over a week since Paige has seen her, but Azzi is always a sight for sore eyes. She looks smaller than usual with the big brace over her knee, and when Paige hugs her hello, she holds on just a little longer than what might be considered casual, pressing her face to her favorite spot where Azzi’s neck meets her shoulder and sneaking a kiss there.

“I missed you,” Azzi breathes into her shoulder.

They text almost constantly, and are on FaceTime whenever they’re free, but it’s not the same as being together. It takes Paige back to the years before UConn, before she knew what it really meant that she would sometimes miss Azzi so much it felt like a wound.

She squeezes Azzi around her waist one more time before pulling back and leading her up to the room. She swipes the key to unlock the door and holds it open so Azzi can limp through in front of her.

Ice has taken Drew to bother some of the other girls, so they can have some much appreciated time alone.

Paige has barely shut the door behind her when Azzi is crowding her up against it, throwing her arms around her shoulders as her crutches clatter to the floor. Paige catches her around the waist, dropping her shopping bag on the floor, and lets Azzi kiss the hell out of her.

“You really missed me, huh?” Paige rasps as Azzi moves her lips down the line of her jaw, her neck. Her hands reach down to palm Azzi’s ass, pulling her closer and squeezing.

She knows something is wrong when Azzi pulls back, releasing a choked gasp. Her head ducks down to stare at her knee, throbbing at the sudden movement. When she looks up at Paige again, her eyes are wet.

“I can’t even kiss you without hurting myself.” Azzi lets out a bitter laugh.

Paige remembers the back and forth of emotions that came with such a big injury. How one moment it could be like nothing had happened, but then something would remind you and the world would feel like it was crashing down on you.

She pulls Azzi into the room, helping her to take a seat at the end of one of the beds before going back to the door to pick up her bag.

Paige comes back to kneel in front of Azzi handing her the bag with an uncharacteristically shy look on her face. Azzi pulls out an only slightly crushed bouquet, two family sized bags of her favorite chips, and a stuffed plushie.

Azzi stares at the gifts for a second. She shouldn’t be surprised at Paige’s thoughtfulness, not when she’s been this way for as long as they’ve known each other.

But she loves how Paige can still surprise her after this many years. She just loves her.

So she places the gifts gently to the side, cups Paige’s face between her hands, kisses her softly, and tells her just that.

💗 I love you, Pookie. 💗 9:13

😡🙄 9:14

love you too 9:15

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #pazzi #like almost embarrassingly sappy

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lonelyslutavatar · 8 months ago

Note

Imagine if all the extreme spooky stuff didn't happen, but Martin and Jon still wound up getting together, and without needing to be on the run for murder, it takes a while for Jon to reconnect with Georgie... she finally gets a call asking if she wants to meet for a concert event and catch up, so she goes, and just does NOT recognize Jon; Mr Cool Haircut in relaxed vaguely-grunge clothes, being all handsy and VERY PDA with his new boyfriend. She's just ??? (all the identity-stealing monsters aren't real, but Georgie is considering a body-snatcher conspiracy)

if he had the chance, Jon would totally be that 30-something year old guy who didn't get to have much fun in his 20's so he's making up for it now

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crazybiscuit · 1 month ago

Text

Give 'em Pumpkin to Talk About

Pairing: Clark Kent x Reader (ft. Jon and Conner Kent) Summary: Ma Kent sent Clark home with way too much pumpkin to carve... Warnings: No warning, just fluff and family bonding :) Word Count: 1459 Credits: @strangergraphics thank you for the dividers! A/N: This is actually my first official fic, so I hope you all enjoy it. There will likely be mistakes but I will revise all of the fics I'll be publishing this month at a later date.

“Clark, these pumpkins are ridiculously massive,” you remark dryly, staring at the three large pumpkins taking up the entirety of your dining table.

Clark lets out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck, “Ma insisted that I take them with me for the kids…”

“Did you fly them here? Never mind, don’t answer that, I already know the answer…,” obviously he's Superman so this would’ve been easy for him, but it's difficult to wrap your mind around how strong your husband is at times.

He clears his throat, sensing that you don't seem too upset, “Do you think the boys will like them?”

You're still a little disturbed to see your kitchen overtaken by pumpkins but you can’t help but let out a small laugh, finally setting down your purse on a chair by the kitchen island, “No doubt Jon will love them, that's for sure. Not sure about Conner..."

"I didn't know your parents grew pumpkins... Are these naturally grown?” you ask, approaching the table to touch one of the toddler sized pumpkins curiously.

Clark is amused by the question and nods, walking up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “They don't, a friend gave them to them but they are in fact naturally grown."

He stays quiet for a second before continuing, "You know these pumpkins are actually fairly small compared to our record holders.”

You try to hide your shock as you look back at him with a small smile, "I'm not sure if I should be horrified or impressed, Smallville."

He chuckles, kissing the top of your head before letting go of you, “I'll have to show you the contest one of these days."

He begins to grab his coat and car keys as he glances at the time, "I’m going to pick up the boys, Conner's going to be landing soon and Jon probably wants to greet him at the airport."

You nod, kissing him quickly, careful not to hit his glasses, "Alright, I'll get started with dinner in the meantime. Be quick!"

About 40 minutes later, you recognize the familiar sound of a small child running down the hall and you set down your knife to wipe your hands. You then hear the usual sound of Clark fumbling with his keys and you hold back an amused smile, walking towards the door. Before he even gets the chance to find his house key, you unlock the door and open it.

Clark jumps slightly, feigning shock to maintain his persona, and lets out a slight laugh, “Oh! H-hi, Darling.”

"Hi, Love," you greet him again, glancing at the two boys with him, "You should consider carrying less keys when you go out."

You give the two young boys a smile as your son runs up to you, hugging your waist, "And hello, boys. How was school?"

Conner gives a wave, removing his sunglasses, and drops his backpack by the door, “Alright. I got out early, so not too eventful.”

Clark walks past you and Jon, carrying Conner's suitcase to the guest room. You give Conner an apologetic smile, running your hand through Jon's dark hair, "I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Conner. We figured buying you a flight would be less suspicious than having you show up here using your abilities-"

Conner smiles, shrugging, "It's fine. I get it, I'm just glad I can be here for the weekend."

You turn your attention back to the nine year old next to you, "How were your classes, Jon?"

The boy brightens up, “We had a quiz today and I got 100 on it! And Ms. Sally also let us pair up for science class!”

Jon keeps talking for a while longer and Clark ruffles his hair when he finishes, "That's great, kid. Conner, I set up your bed and put your bags in there."

"Alright, if you boys are ready, I almost finished dinner and then Clark has a surprise for you two."

Once you all finish eating dinner (on the kitchen island because of your pumpkin problem), Clark finally shows the boys the pumpkins and the carving has begun.

"How many pumpkin pies do you think we could make with each one of these?" you ask jokingly as you scoop out the filling of Jon's pumpkin, glancing at Clark and Conner, who are basically done hollowing out their pumpkins.

Conner glances up from his work, Jon practically hanging off of him as he works on his Jack-o'-lantern, as he responds with a small smirk, "Too much."

"There's no such thing as too much!" Jon exclaims, stepping away from Conner, letting the teen breathe, "When can I start cutting?"

You smile slightly, "Soon, I still need to hollow out your pumpkin."

The nine year old nods, surprisingly patient. Clark notices your struggling to keep up with his and Conner's super speed and he carefully takes your hand, "I'll finish that up. You start tracing the face for our Jack-o'-lantern."

You hesitate slightly, not wanting him to work for you, "No, it's al-"

Your husband cuts you off with his sweet smile, "I insist. Anyways, I trust your artistic skills over mine any day."

With that, you resign and begin tracing a fun design on your shared pumpkin, "Boys, do you think I should make a cat or a witch?"

The two kids look up from their tasks, sharing a glance. Conner speaks up, looking back down at the sketch he's helping Jon with, "Why not both?"

You thought about it for a second before nodding, "That's probably a good idea actually. There's a lot of blank space to use."

The next few minutes are filled with small talk as everyone starts focusing on transferring their sketches onto the large pumpkins. Clark helps Jon to the best of his ability, struggling a little to recreate the design Conner helped Jon with. Luckily for the Superman, his son didn't seem upset at all with his mediocre art skills.

The peaceful atmosphere, however, has given you the urge to mess with your poor husband, seeing he is likely too focused on his artwork to notice your scheming.

You glance at the large bowl of pulp and seeds sitting on the counter next to you and you grab a handful, motioning to the boys to be quiet. Conner's eyes widen slightly, catching on to your intentions and he pauses his sketching for a few seconds. Jon, on the other hand, is less discreet, giggling at the prospect of his father getting pranked.

Unfortunately, this giggling caught Clark's attention, "What's wr-"

You drop the pulp on his head, causing him to flinch for a few seconds as he processes what just happened. A few seconds later, he begins to laugh and turns to face you, "Alright, you asked for it!"

This marked the beginning of a food fight in your pristine kitchen, as Clark throws pulp back at you. You let out a small yelp, feeling the cold and slimy filling hit your skin. Conner grins and teams up with Jon, throwing their own handfuls of pumpkin pulp at Clark and you.

You feign a gasp of offense as the boys betray you, "How could you? After I offered you both cookies!"

Your cries of playful outrage fall on deaf ears, "Sorry, mom. This is war!"

The food fight ended surprisingly soon as you all ran out of ammo, the seeds and pulp covering nearly every inch of the dining room. Each one of you is also covered in an absurd amount of pumpkin.

"White flags?" everyone nods, still laughing.

"I'll quickly clean this up, you three start carving so we can put these outside tonight."

You glance at Clark, a little surprised, "You sure?"

"I've got it, It'll be faster like that anyways," he says, leaning down to kiss you smiling. You happily kiss him back and allow to pull away to clean.

It takes him barely ten minutes to clean but by that time, Conner has finished his detailed pumpkin and you are about halfway done guiding Jon through his pumpkin carving journey.

"Thank you so much, Love," you say, smiling as he begins carving your design.

"It's really no big deal," Clark responds.

By the time you are all finished, you have three drastically different pumpkins: Conner's being a detailed design of his favorite horror villain, you had decided to go with a more simple design of a witch with her cat, and Jon had a cute (though a little sloppy) design of Superman and Superboy on his pumpkin.

“Are they going to fit on the balcony you think?” you ask, both staring at the carved pumpkins.

“We’ll make it work,” Clark responds, kissing your cheek as the boys take pictures with their pumpkins.

#clark kent x reader #clark kent x you #clark kent #superman #kal el #jon kent #jonathan kent #conner kent #kon el #superboy #superfam #fluff #domestic fluff #halloween fic #october #october fic #dcu #dc fic

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thecapricunt1616 · 4 months ago

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thank you for speaking on jon bernthal's blatant zionism, the fact that he has people defending him for that is so nasty. not to mention his support of domestic abusers it's really crazy the amount of support and defending he still gets on this app

Oh my god hi!!! Don’t think I am ignoring you holy heck!! I’m not sure where my brain was on Monday if I’m honest I have 3 whole asks just sitting!!!

I agree. And let me be clear here (since some sick people equate loving and supporting the Jewish Community with also supporting Zionism) That I LOVE and support every ethnicity and religion! I love Jewish People. If you are Jewish OR Palestinian - know you are SAFE, and LOVED, and SUPPORTED on this blog.

Separating ART and the MUSE is very important. We can appreciate Mikey Bear, we can appreciate how touching and sad and gut wrenching his story is -

We can ALSO recognize that Jon B-🤢🤮 sorry I can’t even say his name. That he supports HORRIFIC people. That he supports the literal blatant murder and torture of children and other innocent human beings, and animals! Let’s not forget that even when this ends - all of the bombings have destroyed ecosystems and natural land.

Palestine will take so long to recover when this finally stops. I don’t care if people unfollow. I really from the bottom of my heart will not miss you in the slightest if you support ‘Israel’ (the land of make believe!).

Judaism all though I am not Jewish is such a beautiful religion and to its fucking core it condemns the behavior the IDF it is imposing on the Palestinian people’s. I truly identify with the morals that Judaism holds. But just like Catholic or literally any other religion ever!! There are evil people who claim to be that religion but it’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

If you support Zionism God isn’t proud of you. If you hurt any of gods children, he isn’t proud. And it doesn’t matter I think this, because when it comes time for their judgment day - their god will shake their head and tell them just how horrid they were.

All this to say to my core fuck zionists, and abuse defenders like Jon ber-🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮

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most-tragic-character-tournament · 10 months ago

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So,

What a wild ride, everybody.

This tournament went live on July 13th, 3023, and concluded January 1st, 2024. For a long time before, I’d been wondering if I should try my hand at running one of these tournaments, and then I realized we hadn’t had a general tumblr-wide one for tragic characters. I knew that I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, but I decided to bite the bullet and take the URL. The rest is history.

I didn’t have a set plan, but I figured I could take 128 entries. And then in less than a week and a half, I had ~122. And honestly, I wasn’t happy continuing with just those I’d gotten so far, and thought it’d be unfair if it closed that quickly without warning, so I decided to up it to 256 with a max 2 characters per canon after preliminaries. Only after that did I go on a mad search to find brackets that were big enough for that, and I’d almost given up before I finally found these:

Those are all the characters that made it past prelims and into the competition. Some quite unexpected results came out of these matchups, round after round, and honestly I’d consider the first round to have had the most brutal competitions, because I had tried to do the best I could to match levels of popularity with each other, as far as I could tell. (Yeah, that’s why we had c!Tommy v Jon Sims and Primrose v Jinx.). But even eclipsing all of those, as the weeks went on, we were eventually met with Antigone versus Lloyd Garmadon. Ah, those crazy kids.

At some points it was stressful, in the early rounds when I had dozens of posts, each with edited images and alt text, to prepare for every round, but I never regretted starting this. As of posting, this blog has 2,020 followers and has made over 1,000 posts. This will be the last post on this blog—any future asks I receive I will answer privately back to the asker, or cannot be answered if they are anon—but it will always remain here for posterity. The link below is to the similarly-preserved google sheet compiling every word of every submission this tournament ever received.

I’d like to take this chance to say thank you to everyone who submitted characters, supplied photos, sent in propaganda, reblogged the polls, indoctrinated their teachers into greeklitsweep, and everyone who kept good sportsmanship when their blorbos proved so tragic they couldn’t even win. Thank you to the small group of URLs whom I’ve consistently recognized in my inbox from submissions all the way to finals, thank you for letting me know when a name was messed up, and thank you for your patience in-between rounds. (Shoutout to @elemom as well for having their tiktok on the original antigone/lloyd poll blow up.)

If you’ve stumbled upon this blog weeks, months, or even years after this was posted, I would direct your attention to the tag map in the pinned post to sift through the tumblr history you’ve just uncovered. And I would also be tempted to point at the big sign next to it reciting the nuclear zone warning poem. Lastly, if anyone here or there wishes to talk to me about anything regarding the tournament, you’re welcome to DM @twilight-skies.

There were times when I said to myself this was a one-and-done thing—I was NOT dealing with this again, but….keep a look on the horizon, ya never know.

But until next time, it’s been amazing.

Sayonara you weeaboo shits.

#most tragic character tournament #most tragic tournament #tumblr polls #polls #important #gifs

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magpod-confessions · 5 months ago

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Martin is such a genuinely complex character and I love him deeply.

Because I see people talk about how his niceness was just a facade. Which is only really true to a point.

His awkwardness was a facade. He wanted to seem awkward and unassuming and nonthreatening. As a large person, I relate to this. I've been told by people my whole life that they thought I would be mean or intimidating when they first met me because I'm tall and large and loom over people. So I've always put on an extra bubbly personality when I meet new people to counteract this.

Annabelle mentions how he also used this to get what he wanted from people, which is true but doesn't make his niceness a facade.

We see his mask slip a lot in season 5. But even then he genuinely cares about people. He cares about the people suffering and wants to help them, especially when he learns about the children. Martin "Kill Bill" Blackwood may have a vengeful streak, but he's also genuinely compassionate in a lot of ways.

And a lot of what we see in season 5 of him not being as kind or placating as usual is really just him finally setting up boundaries for himself. Something that took some time and distance from interpersonal relationships for him to manage but that's important nonetheless. He asks Jon to stop making statements to him because he knows it's too much for him and he's setting a boundary. He even says "I can't be that for you". While season 1 Martin might have just held it in and let it happen, it doesn't make him less kind for expressing his needs.

I think it's important to acknowledge the parts of him that were not a facade. Making tea for his coworkers was not a facade. (It may have contributed to it but it's clearly something he actually enjoyed and wanted to do.) Wanting to end people's suffering was not a facade. Protecting people he cared about from a freaky invisible sea captain by essentially sacrificing himself to loneliness was not a facade (even if he did partially do it because he had given up). Treating people with decency and respect even when he knows they can't hear or see him was not a facade.

One thing I love so deeply about this podcast is that it is filled to the brim with complex characters, nearly all of whom are some form of morally gray. There is no black and white. There are no easy answers. There are no "good people" (I would say or bad people but I'm pretty sure there are very clearly some bad people). They're just people.

The fandom likes to latch onto pieces of a character. Things that make them more loveable or more fun. This is true of most, if not all fandoms. But the characters here just simply aren't clear cut. And I think even the critiques of fandom representation of Martin (and other characters for that matter) fail to fully recognize that.

#anon you are so right actually #magpod #tma #the magnus archives #magpod confession

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acute-crashout-jeyuso · 2 months ago

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Between the Ropes.. a Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley Fanfic.

Chapter 15: Now Wait A Damn Hour..

Rhea sat cross-legged on the couch, surrounded by the warmth of furry bodies—her pets snuggled close, and Jon and Trinity’s dogs sprawled out on the floor around her. The comforting sound of Snapped droned in the background, but Rhea was more invested in the chips she was munching on, crinkling the bag as she reached for another handful.

Her eyes were fixed on the screen when a scene unfolded. "That's where he fucked up!" she exclaimed, pointing at the TV. "Do you see that shit, guys? Left the damn murder weapon!" The dogs’ ears perked up at her voice, some looking her way as if they understood her frustration. “Amateurs," she muttered, shaking her head as she tossed a chip toward one of the dogs, who happily caught it.

Jey had been gone for what felt like hours, and her stomach growled, reminding her that she was waiting on only two things: Hawaiian pizza and brownies. How hard could it be to find that in Florida? she thought to herself, glancing at the time on her phone. She was just about ready to order DoorDash if he didn’t show up soon. Her hunger was gnawing at her now, and the thought of warm pizza was starting to make her impatient.

Suddenly, her phone rang, jolting her out of her thoughts. She jumped, her heart skipping a beat as she fumbled for it on the couch. Rhea had forgotten she’d changed her ringtone and the unfamiliar sound made her chest tighten with unease. She grabbed the phone and answered without checking the number, a knot forming in her stomach.

“Hello. You have a collect call from the Orange County Jail from Inmate Number 2498148 … 'Matthew Adams,' do you wish to accept the charges?”

Her breath caught in her throat. The sound of Matt’s name made her blood run cold. She stared at the phone for a split second, heart pounding, before she abruptly hung up. A shiver ran down her spine, and her hands shook as she blocked the number.

She quickly called Jey, her fingers trembling as she dialed. The phone rang, and Rhea anxiously waited for him to pick up, her thoughts spiraling.

The phone rang once, twice, and by the third ring, Rhea was tapping her foot anxiously against the floor, biting her lip. Finally, Jey’s voice came through, a bit muffled but familiar.

“Yo, what’s up?”

“Where are you?” Rhea blurted out, her voice sharp with a mix of fear and frustration.

There was a pause on the other end. “I’m about ten minutes out, got caught in traffic. I’ve got the pizza and brownies. What’s wrong? You sound off babe.”

Rhea swallowed hard, trying to calm herself, but the chill from Matt’s call still clung to her. “Matt,” she whispered, barely able to say his name aloud. “He just called. From jail.”

The line went silent for a moment before Jey spoke again, his voice low and serious. “Did you answer it?”

“I—I didn’t mean to. I didn’t recognize the number, and then I heard his name, and I just hung up. I blocked it, but—God, Jey, I didn’t think I’d ever hear from him again.”

Jey cursed under his breath. “That bastard. I swear, if I ever—” He cut himself off, trying to rein in his anger. “He’s just trying to mess with you, babe. He knows he’s lost. Don’t let him get in your head.”

Rhea closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “I’m trying, but after everything… the baby, the hospital, the detectives—" She paused, her voice trembling. "I thought it was over. Why is he still doing this? Why can’t he just leave me alone?”

Jey’s voice softened, filled with concern. “I’m almost there, okay? Just hang tight. We’ll figure this out together, like we always do.”

Rhea nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. She needed him here, more than ever. “Okay. Just… hurry.”

They ended the call, and Rhea sat there for a moment, staring at her phone, her heart still racing. She glanced down at the dogs, who had sensed her distress and were now crowding closer, their eyes filled with concern. She reached out to pet them, her fingers sinking into their soft fur as a way to ground herself. The warmth from them was comforting, but it didn’t chase away the chill that Matt’s call had left behind.

Jey had always been her anchor in the chaos, and she needed that now more than ever. The weight of everything — the affair, the pregnancy, the loss — was becoming heavier each day, and now, with Matt trying to claw his way back into her life, it felt like she was being suffocated all over again.

Rhea took a deep breath, pushing the fear aside. She had faced worse. She was strong. But deep down, she couldn’t deny the fact that Matt’s shadow still lingered over her life, and now, he had made his presence known once again. She clenched her fists. Not again. Not this time.

Minutes felt like hours as she waited for Jey. When the door finally swung open, the smell of pizza hit her before Jey even said a word. He stepped into the room with Jon trailing behind, carrying the pizza and brownies, but the look on his face showed he was more concerned about her than anything else.

“I’m here,” he said softly, setting the food down on the coffee table before walking over to her. Without hesitation, he pulled her into his arms, and she melted into him, feeling the weight of her fear and anxiety momentarily lift as his warmth enveloped her.

“He’s not gonna touch you, ever again,” Jey whispered against her hair. “Not while I’m here.”

Rhea clung to him, her eyes shut tight as she let his words sink in. For the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to feel safe. But in the back of her mind, she knew this wasn’t the end. Not yet.

As Rhea pulled away from Jey’s arms, Jon stood nearby, watching them with concern. After a moment, he broke the silence.

“Rhea, you need to change your number,” Jon said, his voice gentle but firm. “Blocking him won’t stop him forever. This is the only way to make sure he can’t reach you again.”

Jey nodded, stepping in to back him up. “Yeah, I’ll add you to my plan, make it easy. We can do it today. No more of this Matt crap getting in your head.”

Rhea broke free from the hug and shook her head. “I don’t want to run. I’m not hiding from him,” she said, frustration creeping into her voice. “I’m not going to let him make me live in fear.”

Jon stepped closer, his face soft with understanding but still firm. “This isn’t running, Rhea. It’s protecting yourself. You’re not giving him power—you’re just putting up walls so he can’t reach you. That’s not weakness. It’s strength.”

Rhea looked away for a moment, chewing on her lip as she thought about it. Jon had a point, but it still felt like she was giving in, in some small way. After a beat, she sighed, nodding. “Okay… you’re right. I’ll do it.”

Jon gave a slight smile of approval, and Jey’s serious expression lightened. “Good. Now let’s focus on something better, like food.” He moved to the coffee table, flipping open the pizza box.

Rhea’s eyes narrowed as she glanced at the box. “Hold on… is that Pizza Hut?” she asked, raising a brow.

Jey grinned, pulling out a slice of the Hawaiian pizza she’d requested. “Yeah, it was the fastest option. What, not fancy enough for you?”

Rhea took the slice, biting into it with a smirk. “No, no, it’s perfect. I just thought it’d be my last meal before I end up on Snapped. You know, murder charges and all that.” Her tone was dark, but the joke was clear.

Jey burst out laughing, while Jon chuckled and shook his head. “You’ve got a twisted sense of humor, you know that?” Jey said, still laughing.

“Hey,” Rhea said, waving the pizza slice. “If I ever get caught, it won’t be because I left the damn murder weapon out like those idiots.” She shot a look at the TV, where Snapped was still playing in the background.

Jey grinned, sitting down beside her with his own slice. “Nah, you’re way too smart for that. If anyone’s surviving this mess, it’s you.”

Rhea smiled, feeling a little more grounded. It wasn’t over, but for the first time in days, she gained control.

Jey lay on the king-sized bed, his phone pressed to his ear as he spoke to the customer service representative. Meanwhile, Rhea sat cross-legged beside him, carefully painting her nails a sleek black. Jon, stretched out on the floor with his dogs lounging around him, was taking in the scene with quiet amusement.

"$1,600 for a phone?" Jey exclaimed, clearly in disbelief. Rhea flashed him a mischievous smile but kept her focus on her nails.

"Yeah, yeah, I still want to get it. It’s the only one she wants…" Jey added reluctantly, glancing at her as if he had no choice in the matter. Rhea just shrugged with a smirk, clearly enjoying how easily she could sway him.

"Desert Titanium, 1TB. No, I don’t need the AppleCare," Jey said, and before he could react, Rhea punched him lightly on the shoulder using her dried hand.

“Ow—nevermind! I’ll take the AppleCare,” Jey quickly corrected himself, giving her a side-eye as he rubbed his arm. “No, I don’t need a case…” Before he could finish, Rhea punched him again, this time a little harder.

“Oww! Okay, okay, a case! A pink one.” Jey grinned, trying to get a rise out of her.

Rhea wasn’t having it and immediately threw another punch.

“Ow! Fine, fine, a black one! I’m sorry,” Jey groaned, defeated, as Jon watched the entire exchange from the floor, barely containing his laughter.

"$49 for a car charger?" Jey blurted out, the incredulity back in his voice. This time, before Rhea could punch him, he held up his hand in defense. But Rhea was quicker. With a grin, she used her foot instead, lightly kicking him in the side.

“Owww… okay, yes, please! Throw in whatever other accessories you’ve got; I’m begging you,” Jey pleaded, his voice a mix of pain and surrender. Jon burst out laughing, thoroughly entertained by the whole ordeal.

When Jey finally got off the phone, he turned to Rhea, a playful smirk on his face. “Your Highness, your $1,800 phone order will be ready for pickup tomorrow, Saturday, at 3:30 PM,” he said with exaggerated amusement, bowing his head slightly in mock servitude.

Rhea smiled, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. “Good boy,” she teased, and they both laughed, feeling at ease in the comfort of each other’s company.

Jon, still lying on the floor, wiped a tear from his eye, unable to stop laughing at Jey’s ordeal. "You two are something else," he muttered, shaking his head as his dogs nuzzled him.

“Bestieeeee!” Rhea exclaimed, practically glowing as she wiggled her freshly painted black nails in front of Jey. Her excitement was infectious.

“Oooh, girrrrl!” Jey responded in a playful tone, admiring her nails. “Looking fierce!”

Jon, lounging on the floor with the dogs, glanced up with a bored expression. “What are we going to do? I’m getting kind of restless here.”

Jey chuckled, shaking his head. “Uce’, you can’t just enjoy a comfortable situation for once? Always gotta be on the go, huh?”

Before Jon could respond, there was a knock on the door. The sudden sound made all three of them freeze, curiosity piqued.

“I’ll get it you scaredy cats.” Jon said, pushing himself off the floor and heading towards the stairs.

As he made his way down, he called out, “Awh hell, bisexual Undertaker is in Uso territory!” His laugh echoed up the stairs, mingling with the sound of his footsteps.

Rhea’s eyes widened in excitement, and despite the pain in her abdomen, she sprang up from the bed, moving with surprising speed. She darted towards the stairs, nearly tripping in her haste but managing to catch herself just in time. Her smile was so wide it seemed to light up the entire hallway.

When Rhea reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw Damian standing at the door, his presence commanding and warm.

“Damian!” she shouted, her voice filled with joy.

Damian grinned, taking in the sight of Rhea’s enthusiasm. “Hey there, my Tormenta.” He said even with a bigger smile.

Rhea ran to him, almost tackling him with a hug. “I can’t believe you’re here! This is the best surprise ever!”

Jey appeared at the top of the stairs, looking down with a pleased expression. “Guess I should’ve known you’d show up when we least expected it.”

Damian laughed, ruffling Rhea’s hair. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by. Hope I’m not interrupting anything too serious.”

Rhea shook her head, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “No way, this is exactly what we needed. Come on in, let’s hang out!”

Damian stepped inside, and the group began to settle back into the living room. The atmosphere lightened as they prepared to enjoy the unexpected visit. For the first time in a while, Rhea felt a genuine sense of joy, surrounded by her best friend.

—

As the music from the speakers filled the patio once more, creating a lively and upbeat atmosphere, Jon busied himself with his phone, ordering some more food and drinks. He turned to Damian with a grin, asking, “What kind of beer do you want?”

Damian shrugged casually, “Whatever you’re drinking is fine by me.”

“Got it,” Jon replied, tapping away on his phone as he added a few more items to the order.

Soon enough, all four of them—Rhea, Jey, Jon, and Damian—settled comfortably on the back patio. The pets were a whirlwind of activity, running around the backyard and adding to the joyful chaos. The warm evening air and the sounds of their laughter made the setting feel almost like a scene from a perfect day.

Rhea, still bubbling with excitement from Damian’s unexpected arrival, turned to him with curiosity. “So, Damian, how did you end up here? And why’d you leave Kayden at the Airbnb?”

Damian chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a relaxed demeanor. “Well, Mr. Hothead over here,” he said, gesturing to Jon with a playful smirk, “called me up yesterday and asked if I could be a… como… a Happy Dark Presence in his home for his fellow Samoan. Couldn’t say no to that. I also didn’t leave Kayden at the AirBnb. She had Tiffany come and stay with her, I told her you needed cheering up and she understood.”

Rhea’s face lit up with pure joy. “That’s amazing! I’m so glad you’re here. You really made my day.”

Jey, sitting beside Rhea, chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Yeah, I guess I did keep you locked up this morning, didn’t I?”

Damian grinned, winking at Jey. “You know, it’s like I’m Shrek and Rhea’s Fiona and you are Fiona’s dad. Just needed a little help to get out of that tower.”

Rhea burst into laughter, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh my God, that’s perfect! Damian, you’re definitely our Shrek.”

Jey laughed along with the others, shaking his head. “As long as I’m not Lord Farquad, then I guess I can live with it.”

As the conversation flowed seamlessly, Rhea’s curiosity about Jon and Jey’s tattoos grew. “I’d love to hear more about your tattoos,” she said, leaning in. “I’ve seen bits of them, but I want to know the stories behind them.”

Jon and Jey exchanged an amused glance. Jon began to explain with enthusiasm, “Our tattoos are deeply significant. They reflect our Samoan heritage, each design representing aspects of family, strength, and personal journey. They’re not just tattoos; they’re a narrative of who we are.”

Rhea’s eyes sparkled with interest. “That’s incredible. I’ve been thinking about getting a new tattoo. Something with real meaning.”

Jon’s eyes lit up with a mix of excitement and mischief. “Would you consider a traditional Samoan tattoo, Rhea?”

Damian nodded encouragingly. “It would be a great way for you to mark this new chapter in your life. It’s a powerful form of self-expression.”

Jon added, “Our tattoo artist is at our dad’s house right now. With one call, he could be here in an hour.”

Rhea’s face brightened at the thought. “That sounds fantastic! I’d really love that.”

Jey, who had been quietly observing, suddenly interrupted with a firm, “No, no, no…”

Rhea looked at him, confused. “What do you mean, no?”

Jey’s gaze faltered, struggling to find the right words. His mind was racing with emotions he hadn’t fully expressed. The reason for his hesitation was more profound than he had initially let on. He wanted to get matching traditional Samoan wedding tattoos with Rhea. It wasn’t just about getting inked; it was about symbolizing their commitment to each other in a way that was deeply meaningful.

Jey’s voice softened, laden with emotion. “It’s not the right time for that. I don’t want you to rush into something like this.”

Rhea, sensing there was more to Jey’s reluctance, nodded and excused herself to the bathroom, leaving Jey, Jon, and Damian alone in the patio.

As soon as Rhea was out of sight, Jey turned to Jon with a troubled expression. “Don’t tempt her like that,” he said quietly but firmly.

Damian, picking up on Jey’s distress, asked, “What’s going on?”

Jey took a deep breath, his face reflecting a mix of vulnerability and determination. “I want to marry Rhea,” he confessed, his voice cracking slightly. “I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. I finally talked to the attorney today and he started on my divorce. I was hoping to get matching traditional Samoan wedding tattoos with her. It’s something that’s deeply meaningful to me. It’s not just about a tattoo; it’s about marking our commitment, our future together in a way that honors our heritage.”

Jon’s expression shifted to one of understanding. “So, it’s not just about the tattoo. You want it to be a part of a bigger commitment.”

Jey nodded, his eyes earnest. “Exactly. I want it to be special, something that signifies our journey together and our promise to each other. I didn’t want her to rush into a tattoo without understanding how important this is to me. I want it to be something we do together, when we’re both ready for it.”

Damian’s eyes softened, touched by Jey’s heartfelt confession. “Jey, that’s incredibly meaningful. It’s clear you’re thinking about this with a lot of love and respect.”

Jon clapped Jey on the shoulder. “You’re right. It should be something truly special. You should talk to her when you’re ready. She’ll understand.”

The moment she excused herself from the patio, Rhea’s excitement about Damian’s surprise was tinged with an underlying tension. As she walked towards the bathroom, she felt a familiar pull toward the bedroom. The pain in her abdomen had been nagging at her, and the stress of everything lately was becoming overwhelming.

Once inside the bedroom, she made her way to the dresser where she kept her pain pills. She had been taking them more frequently lately, savoring the temporary relief they brought. The escape they provided was becoming a comfort, and she was starting to crave that sensation more and more.

Rhea grabbed the small bottle of pills as she thought of a very awful idea. As she shook out a few tablets, she felt a pang of guilt for needing them so badly, but the allure of the numbness was too strong to resist. She looked around the room, searching for something to help her crush the pills into a fine powder. Her eyes landed on a small glass vase with fake flowers, which added a touch of charm to the room.

The vase seemed perfect for the task. She picked it up, feeling its cool, smooth surface in her hand. With a determined expression, she used the vase to crush the pills into powder. Each motion of the vase against the pills made her heart race with anticipation. The process was oddly satisfying, almost ritualistic. Once the pills were reduced to a fine powder, she wiped the bottom with her hand and she placed the vase back on the shelf, trying to fix it to it's right place.

Her hands trembled slightly as she prepared to snort the powdered pills. She knew it wasn’t the safest method, but the instant relief was too tempting. She pulled out her wallet from dresser drawer and pulled a debit card out. She used it fix it into three perfect lines, she then wiped off the debit card and grabbed a crisp dollar from her wallet, she rolled it into a makeshift straw and with a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, she did the unthinkable...

The act of snorting the powder was a jarring experience, but as the effects began to kick in, she felt a rush of relief that made the discomfort and anxiety melt away. The numbing sensation started to spread through her, dulling the sharp edges of her reality. She leaned against the wall, her mind drifting in a haze of euphoria.

For a brief moment, everything felt lighter. The weight of her worries and the strain of the day seemed to dissolve into nothingness. She allowed herself to sink into the comforting embrace of the high, feeling both liberated and trapped in the same breath. She knew she was slipping further into a dangerous habit, but for now, she couldn’t bring herself to care. She quickly wiped her nose off and checked herself in the mirror, she wiped off the remaining residue and quickly washed her hands.

As she slowly made her way back to the patio, the world around her felt distant, almost dreamlike. She plastered a smile on her face, hoping to hide the fact that she was high and not fully present. Despite the warmth of her friends and the joy of Damian’s surprise, Rhea couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that she was losing control, even as the pills provided her a fleeting sense of euphoria.

A few hours earlier, Jon sat quietly in the lobby area of Brentley and Barnum Law Firm, tapping his foot nervously against the polished floor. He glanced around at the modern decor—tasteful, minimalist, designed to put clients at ease. But Jon wasn’t at ease. He hated this waiting game simply because he could only look at tiktok for so long.

Inside the sleek office, Jey sat across from Julian, the lawyer WWE had hired for him. Julian was calm, professional, and had an air of confidence that came with years of navigating high-stakes legal battles. After discussing Matt’s arrest and the legal implications for Rhea and Jey, Julian finally leaned back in his chair and gave the update Jey had been waiting for.

“You and Rhea can leave Orlando on Sunday,” Julian said. “Given the charges against Matt and his current incarceration, there’s no legal reason for you to stay here any longer.”

Jey exhaled, feeling a small weight lift from his chest. "Good," he muttered, though the thought of Matt still being out there, even behind bars, gnawed at him. He shifted in his seat, his mind racing toward a different issue—his marriage to Takecia.

“I wanted to ask you something else,” Jey said, his voice quieter now. He met Julian’s eyes, hesitant for a moment before continuing, “Can you represent me in my divorce?”

Julian raised an eyebrow, intrigued but not surprised. “Your divorce in California?”

Jey nodded. “Yeah, San Francisco. Takecia’s already got herself a lawyer. It’s… it’s happening.”

Julian thought for a moment before responding. “I still have my license in California. That’s where I started my practice. I can absolutely represent you, Jey, but we’ll need to go over the details.”

Jey nodded again, appreciating the professionalism. He wanted this done quickly, cleanly. He didn’t want any more mess than there already was in his life. “I’m going for an uncontested divorce. We’ve already talked about it, and she’s laid out her demands.”

Julian sat up straighter, the gears in his mind turning as he considered the process. “An uncontested divorce means you both agree on all terms—no arguments, no drawn-out court battles. It’s usually the smoother option. However, you’ll still have to deal with California’s six-month waiting period before the divorce is finalized.”

“I understand,” Jey said. “I just want to be fair. For the petition, I’m agreeing to pay for our kids’ college education, we’re going to do shared custody, and Takecia keeps the house. That’s what she wants.”

Julian leaned forward, tapping his pen thoughtfully against his legal pad. “That’s a reasonable arrangement, especially if you’re both on the same page. But are you sure about giving her the house? It’s a significant asset.”

Jey nodded firmly. “Yeah. The house is where she’s raising our kids. I don’t need it.”

Julian took notes, satisfied with Jey’s clarity on the situation. “Okay. We’ll file the petition with those terms. I’ll need you to sign some documents to get things moving, and after that, we’ll let the legal process take its course. You’re looking at about six months before it’s finalized, as I mentioned.”

Jey rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a strange mixture of relief and sadness. Six months. Six months of waiting, of knowing his marriage was ending, of officially closing that chapter of his life. A part of him felt guilt for how it had all unraveled, but another part of him felt an overwhelming sense of inevitability. His heart hadn’t been with Takecia for a long time, not since he met Rhea. This was just the final step in a process that had begun months ago.

Julian glanced over the papers, then looked back at Jey. “If you’re sure this is what you want, I’ll handle it. You’ll be free to move on with your life once everything’s finalized.”

Jey swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. I’m sure. Just… let’s get it done.”

The lawyer nodded, wrapping up the conversation as they stood to shake hands. Jey left Julian’s office feeling like he was walking toward a new beginning but also carrying the weight of his past. As he walked back into the lobby, Jon looked up from his seat, his expression a blend of curiosity and concern.

“How’d it go?” Jon asked, standing up to meet him.

Jey sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s happening. The divorce is going through. Six months, and it’s over.”

Jon clapped his brother on the shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “It’s for the best, Uce. You deserve to be happy.”

Jey didn’t respond right away, but he nodded, the weight of the decision settling into his chest. There was no turning back now. The path forward was clearer than ever, but that didn’t make it any easier to walk.

As the evening wore on, Rhea, Damian, Jey, and Jon were all in high spirits, enjoying each other's company and the warmth of Damian’s surprise visit. The conversation flowed effortlessly as each of them each hard a topic to talk about. Suddenly, Damian’s phone rang, breaking into their lively discussion.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Damian said, standing up and stepping away from the group to take the call.

Rhea watched him with a curious glance, but the conversation was muffled as Damian moved a few paces away. After a few moments, Damian’s face tightened with concern, and he responded more seriously.

“Hey, Dominik. What’s up?” Damian asked.

There was a pause as Dominik Mysterio’s voice came through the line. “Hey, Damian. I just got a call from Matt. He’s in jail and apparently looking for Rhea. Do you know anything about this?”

Damian’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Matt. He had been hoping the situation would remain under control, but it seemed Matt’s attempts to reach out were escalating. Damian’s mind raced with the implications.

“Yeah, I know,” Damian replied, his tone heavy with apprehension. “Matt has been trying to contact Rhea. But please, don’t say anything about this to anyone else. It’s important.”

Dominik didn’t ask for further details, simply acknowledging Damian’s request. “Got it. I won’t say a word.”

Damian sighed with relief as the call ended. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before heading back to the group. With a determined look, he pulled out his phone and quickly sent a message to Paul Levesque, their boss.

Damian: Matt is going around calling other wrestlers, trying to reach Rhea. We need to handle this immediately.

Paul’s response came almost instantly.

Paul: I’ll take care of it. Thanks for the heads-up.

Damian put his phone away, a grim expression on his face as he rejoined the group. He forced a smile, trying to mask his concern, but the weight of Matt’s actions was clearly on his mind.

Jey noticed the shift in Damian’s demeanor and leaned in, concern evident. “Everything okay, Damian?”

Damian nodded, though his eyes betrayed his worry. “Yeah, just… had to deal with something. But we’re good for now. Let’s focus on enjoying the evening.”

The group resumed their conversation, but the shadow of Matt’s threat loomed over them, a reminder that not everything was as carefree as it seemed. Rhea, still feeling the effects of her earlier actions, was more focused on the present moment, trying to savor the time with her friends and momentarily push aside her anxieties.

As the night wore on, the clock struck 1 a.m., and Jon, heavily buzzed from the evening's festivities, excused himself, stumbling slightly as he made his way toward the guest room. He was ready for bed and couldn’t help but chuckle at Jey’s parting joke about needing lotion since Trinity was out of town.

“Shut up, Uce,” Jon said with a grin, flipping Jey off.

Damian, who had been enjoying the playful banter, chimed in with a smirk. “I guess I’m stuck with the couple tonight then.”

Jey grinned. “Uce, I love you, but Damian, you going on my nephew’s bed. Sorry, man.”

Rhea, still buzzing from the earlier excitement but feeling the weight of her own issues, laughed at the banter. As they all moved back inside, they gathered the pets, ushering them into the house with them. The house was now a cozy chaos of people and animals, but there was an underlying sense of warmth and camaraderie.

Jey showed Damian to the kid’s bedroom, a cheerful room full of toys and colorful decor. “Goodnight, Damian. If you need the bathroom, it’s just down the hall.”

Damian thanked him and bid goodnight to Rhea, who gave him a heartfelt hug. “Goodnight, Rhea. Sleep well.”

As Rhea and Jey headed to their own room, Jey couldn’t help but notice Rhea’s sluggish, almost detached manner. It was concerning, especially since she hadn’t had much to drink that evening. He tried to catch her eye, but she was already pulling her shirt over her body, revealing just her bra. For the first time, Jey’s attention was drawn to the bandage covering her abdomen, a reminder of the recent trauma she had endured.

Rhea noticed Jey’s gaze lingering on her bandage and, with a hint of defensiveness, asked, “What, don’t you want to fuck me anymore?”

Jey’s face fell, taken aback by the bluntness of her comment. It was completely out of character for her, and he could see the hurt and confusion in her eyes. He struggled to find the right words, feeling the weight of everything that had happened recently.

“It’s not that,” Jey said softly. “It’s just… with everything that’s been going on, I’m worried about you. I didn’t mean to make you feel… less.”

Rhea rolled her eyes, clearly frustrated. “I’m not a damn glass doll, Jey. I’m fine.”

Jey’s confusion deepened. They had just enjoyed a great night with friends, and now she was acting as if everything was falling apart. He could see the hurt in her eyes, the pain masked by her attempts to appear strong.

Rhea, with a sigh, put her shirt back on and climbed into bed, her back turned to Jey. The room fell into a heavy silence, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. Jey lay beside her, his mind racing as he tried to understand the sudden shift in her mood. The night had started with laughter and companionship, but now it was tinged with a sense of melancholy and confusion.

As Rhea lay still, facing away from him, Jey reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand gently on her shoulder. “Rhea,” he said softly, “talk to me. What’s going on?”

But Rhea remained silent, the only response the subtle rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed. The weight of the night’s events pressed down on both of them, leaving them in a tangled web of emotions that neither knew how to unravel.

Jey’s frustration grew as he faced Rhea’s silence. Despite his repeated pleas to talk, she remained resolutely turned away. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him. It wasn’t right, he knew that. He felt a pang of guilt, but his concern for her overshadowed his reservations.

He gently pulled her back toward him, his touch tender. For a moment, Rhea’s face lit up with the familiar, radiant smile that he loved so much. It was a small, fleeting comfort in the midst of their turmoil.

“What do you want daddy to do to you?” he asked softly, trying to keep his tone light despite the heaviness in his heart.

Rhea’s eyes, clouded and distant, barely focused on him. Her voice was a sluggish, almost inaudible slur. “Everything…”

The word hung in the air, and Jey felt a knot tighten in his stomach. The haze in her eyes and the way she spoke made him uneasy. This wasn’t the Rhea he knew. She was slipping into a state he didn’t fully understand, and it troubled him deeply.

He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, his voice barely a whisper. “Soon,” he said, hoping to provide some comfort despite his own confusion and worry.

Rhea’s smile faded, and she rolled back onto her side, clearly irritated by his response. The warmth between them evaporated, leaving only a cold silence in its wake. Jey watched her, feeling a pang of helplessness. He had wanted to reach out to her, to fix what was wrong, but instead, it seemed he only managed to deepen the rift.

As Rhea settled back into bed, facing away from him, the room grew heavy with unspoken emotions. Jey lay there, staring at the ceiling, the weight of the night pressing down on him. He knew that Rhea was struggling, but he felt powerless to help her in the way she needed. His heart ached as he grappled with the complexity of her pain and his own sense of inadequacy.

The silence stretched on, filled with the quiet hum of the house and the distant sound of the pets moving about. Jey remained awake, his mind racing with worries and regrets, while Rhea’s shallow, uneven breaths filled the quiet room. The distance between them seemed insurmountable, and he wondered how they could bridge the gap that had grown so suddenly between them.

As the night wore on, the darkness outside mirrored the uncertainty within, and Jey was left alone with his thoughts, yearning for a solution he couldn’t yet grasp.

Rhea woke up with a pounding headache, her mind foggy from the previous night’s haze. The dim light filtering through the curtains only added to her discomfort. As she groaned and tried to sit up, the realization of not having showered before going to bed hit her. She glanced at Jey, who was still sleeping soundly beside her, his soft snoring a faint reminder of the comfort she had once felt.

She slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him. With a groggy sense of urgency, she undressed and headed towards the bathroom, not fully processing her surroundings. Her foggy state of mind led her to forget that this was not their home and that Jon, Damian, and Jey were all in the house.

Turning on the shower, Rhea stepped under the hot water, letting it cascade over her and ease the tension in her muscles. The steam enveloped her, and she let out a sigh of relief as the heat worked its magic on her aching head. The shower was a sanctuary, a brief escape from the confusion and discomfort of the previous night.

After a few minutes, Rhea turned off the water, wrapped a towel around her body, and walked back towards the bedroom. The house was quiet, save for the occasional shuffle of the pets in the other rooms. As she reentered the room, she saw that Jey had woken up.

He looked at her with a mixture of confusion and concern. The sight of her in a towel, freshly showered and smiling, seemed out of place considering the mood from the night before. She approached him with a warm, somewhat uncertain smile and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

Jey’s confusion deepened. “Morning, Rhea,” he said, his voice groggy. “You feeling okay?”

Rhea nodded, though she couldn’t fully remember the details of last night. “Yeah, I’m just… trying to shake off this headache. I forgot to shower and just needed to freshen up.”

Jey sat up, rubbing his eyes and trying to piece together the previous night. He was still processing the sudden shift in her mood and the oddity of her early morning actions. “You’re not making much sense, Rhea. Last night—”

“I know,” she interrupted, her voice soft but determined. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember much, but I’m trying to make things right. I just wanted to start the day fresh.”

Jey took a deep breath, sensing that there was more beneath the surface of her cheerful facade. He reached out and took her hand gently. “Rhea, if something’s wrong, we need to talk about it. You can’t keep pushing it away.”

Rhea smiled weakly and squeezed his hand. “Let’s enjoy the morning and figure things out as we go.”

Jey hesitated but nodded, sensing that pushing further might only cause more strain. He watched as Rhea got dressed and moved around the room, a sense of unease still lingering between them. He wanted to understand what was going on, but for now, he decided to give her the space she seemed to need.

As Rhea prepared for the day, Jey remained thoughtful, the unease in his heart growing. He knew they needed to address the issues between them, but for now, he could only hope that the day would bring clarity and healing for both of them.

Rhea sat at the vanity, her movements deliberate as she applied her makeup. Her excitement about picking up her new iPhone was like it of a kid in a candy store, a small but significant joy in the midst of everything she had been dealing with. Jey, meanwhile, was styling his hair, focused on making sure he looked presentable for their outing.

“We’re finally getting out of the house,” Rhea said with a smile, her eyes brightening at the thought of the simple trip to the Verizon store.

Jey looked at her through the mirror, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Yeah, it’s about time. I know it’s not much, but it’s a step in the right direction.” Given last night’s tension, he figured he would give in to Rhea and finally take her out.

Damian and Jon had left earlier to explore the city. Damian, eager to see more of Florida, was taking full advantage of the opportunity to explore, as he had only been to the state a few times before. Rhea and Jey were left to themselves, and Jey decided to seize the moment for a quick errand.

Both of them were dressed in all black, a conscious decision by Rhea to cover up and maintain some semblance of privacy. It was a change compared to the usual vibrant colors Jey might wear, but it provided a sense of security and anonymity they craved.

As they left the house and made their way to the Verizon store, Rhea couldn’t help but feel a sense of liberation. The prospect of a new phone and a brief change of scenery was exhilarating, and she welcomed the distraction from the recent turmoil in her life.

When they arrived at the Verizon store, they checked in with the manager to ensure their privacy. To their relief, the store was quiet, with only two elderly women browsing through accessories. The tranquility of the store provided a welcoming to the chaos that had marked their recent days.

The manager greeted them with a friendly smile and guided them to the counter where Rhea’s iPhone was waiting. As Jey and Rhea approached, the manager quickly retrieved the phone from the back and handed it to Rhea with a flourish.

“There you go,” the manager said. “Your iPhone 16 Pro Max in Desert Titanium. I hope you enjoy it! The accessories and case are all here as well.”

Rhea’s eyes lit up as she took the phone, her excitement evident. “Thank you so much! I’ve been looking forward to this.”

Jey watched her with a smile, pleased to see her happiness. “Glad we could get this sorted. Now we just need to get everything set up and you’ll be all set.”

Rhea nodded, her smile unwavering as she admired her new phone. The brief outing had already started to lift her spirits, and she was eager to go somewhere else and Jey knew just the right spot.

As Jey and Rhea left the Verizon store and got into Jon's car, Jey turned to Rhea with a warm smile. “How about we go watch the ocean?” he suggested.

Rhea’s face lit up instantly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Without hesitation, she leaned in and kissed him gently. “I am so in love with you,” she whispered, her eyes brimming with affection.

Jey’s heart swelled at her words. He started the car and began driving towards Titusville, FL, a serene spot just 46 minutes away. As they drove, Rhea reached out and placed her hand on his. Understanding the gesture, Jey gently took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. The simple touch brought a deep sense of comfort to both of them.

The drive was soothing, with Rhea feeling an unprecedented sense of calm and peace. The rhythmic hum of the car, coupled with the soft music playing through the speakers, added to her tranquility.

Jey's music filled the car, and Rhea found herself smiling as the melodies wrapped around them. “Oh, this is it right here, babe, just for you,” Jey said, his voice carrying a hint of playfulness as he turned up the volume. The familiar beat of "Let Me Hold You" by Bow Wow and Omarion began to play, setting a romantic mood.

As the chorus approached, Jey started singing along..

In my arms in my mind all the time I wanna Keep you right by my side 'til I die I'm gonna Hold you down and make sure everything is right with you You can never go wrong if you let me hold you

His voice steady and full of love as he kept his eyes focused on the road. His singing was a perfect mix of heartfelt and playful, creating a warm atmosphere inside the car.

Rhea couldn’t help but join in, her voice blending with his. Together, they sang along to the song, their voices harmonizing effortlessly. The moment was pure and joyful, a relief to the complications of their recent days.

Down like a real friend's supposed to I'm trying to show you The life of somebody like you should be living Ohhhhh, baby baby You could never go wrong if you let me hold you

The shared experience of singing along to their song, coupled with the comforting rhythm of the drive, made Rhea feel deeply connected to Jey. As the song played on, their hands remained clasped, and their smiles grew wider, their love for each other shining brightly in the soft light of the car.

The ocean was still some miles away, but in that moment, the journey felt like a celebration of their love and a brief escape from the troubles they had faced.

Jey and Rhea finally arrived in Titusville, FL, and Jey headed straight to his favorite spot, the Moonlight Drive Inn. The familiar neon sign and the comforting scent of burgers and fries greeted them.

“Do you want to come inside and check out the menu?” Jey asked, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.

Rhea shook her head with a smile. “Just get what you usually get. And add a lemonade for me, please.”

Jey nodded and went inside to place their order. He knew exactly what to get: the mouth-watering bacon double cheeseburger and sweet potato waffle fries. After a brief wait, the cashier called out his number, and Jey collected their food and drinks.

Returning to the car, Jey carefully placed the bags on the floor and made a quick 3-minute drive to the beach. They reached a secluded spot that Jey knew well, perfect for a quiet, intimate meal.

He parked the car and pulled out the two trays from underneath Jon’s car seat. After giving them a quick wipe to ensure they were clean, he retrieved the bags of food. With a gentle smile, he handed one of the bags to Rhea.

“What did you get me?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Jey opened the bag and revealed its contents. “A bacon double cheeseburger and sweet potato waffle fries. And I also grabbed some fried pickles and fried mushrooms for us to share.”

Rhea’s eyes lit up with delight. “You’re the best,” she said, taking the bag from him.

They settled into their seats, the car providing a cozy refuge from the gentle breeze outside. Rhea eagerly unwrapped her burger and took a big bite. Her eyes closed in pleasure as she savored the taste.

“Oh my god,” she moaned, her voice full of satisfaction. “That’s a good fucking burger.”

Jey chuckled, watching her enjoy the food. He took a bite of his own burger, nodding in agreement. “Told you it was worth it.”

As they ate, the car was filled with the soft sounds of their enjoyment and the rhythmic crashing of the waves in the distance. The simplicity of the meal and the serene setting made the moment feel special, a perfect break from the recent chaos in their lives.

After finishing their meal and taking in the serene view of the ocean, Jey and Rhea found themselves enveloped in a cocoon of intimacy within the car. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore provided a soothing soundtrack as they inched closer, their eyes reflecting the soft glow of the fading sun.

Their kisses started gently, a tender exploration of each other's lips. Each touch was careful and deliberate, as if they were savoring the newfound closeness. Jey’s hands slid to Rhea’s face, his fingers tracing delicate lines along her jaw, his thumb brushing softly against her cheek. Rhea responded with equal devotion, her hands weaving through his hair, pulling him closer, their breaths mingling in the small space of the car.

The passion between them deepened with every kiss, growing more fervent and urgent. Their bodies pressed together, creating a tangible warmth that seemed to ignite the air around them. Jey’s lips moved over Rhea’s with a mix of tenderness and intensity, each kiss conveying a thousand unspoken words of love and desire.

Rhea’s response was just as fervent; she clung to him, her fingers roaming over his back and shoulders, her lips dancing against his with an eagerness that mirrored his own. The world outside their car became a distant blur, leaving them in a cocoon of shared passion and connection. Their kisses were an eloquent expression of the deep bond they felt, each touch and caress a testament to their profound intimacy.

Just as the moment reached its peak, the car’s voice interrupted, announcing a call from Jon.

The car's voice came through, “You've got a call from Twin. Do you want to answer or reject?"

Jey sighed, a bit annoyed at the interruption. “Yes, Jonathan, what do you want?” he answered, trying to mask his frustration.

Jon’s voice crackled through the speaker, carrying a hint of impatience. “Any chance Bonnie and Clyde are joining us for dinner? Me and my lovely wife, who just got in and is a bit cranky, and the bisexual undertaker have booked a reservation for a private dinner.”

Jey couldn’t help but chuckle at Jon’s description. “You’re really laying it on thick, huh? I guess we’ll join you.”

Rhea, overhearing the conversation, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, let’s go. I’m up for it.”

Jey relayed the message to Jon, who confirmed that the reservation was for 9 PM. He then hung up, leaving Jey and Rhea to realize that it was already 6 PM.

After ending the call, Jey looked at Rhea, who was still catching her breath, her cheeks flushed from their passionate encounter. “We’ve got a bit of time before dinner,” Jey said with a playful grin.

Rhea, her smile still lingering from their intimate exchange, shook her head with a soft laugh. “I can’t believe we’ve been lost in each other for almost an hour.”

Jey’s eyes sparkled with affection as he teased her. “You’ve got lungs of steel, you know that?”

Rhea rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “You’re impossible,” she said, nudging him playfully. The warmth between them was caring, their earlier connection translating into a shared laughter that only deepened their bond.

As they drove back, their hands intertwined, they were both content and at peace. The romance of their moments together had created a beautiful memory, and the anticipation of spending time with Jon, Trinity, and Damian only added to the joy of their evening. They knew that the night ahead would be a cherished continuation of their special connection, filled with moments of warmth, laughter, and love.

—

Rhea stood in front of the open closet, arms crossed, biting her lip as she scanned through Trinity's collection of dresses. The closet was bursting with color — vibrant yellows, deep reds, pastel blues — a more girly change to her own darker wardrobe back home. She tugged at one dress, a flowy floral number, and held it up with a look of mild frustration.

"Why does Trinity have nothing but color?" she muttered, shaking her head as she looked through another handful of dresses.

Jey, stretched out on the bed with his phone in hand, glanced over at her, amused. "Not everyone is as dark as you," he teased, the corners of his lips lifting into a smirk. "But come here for a sec."

Rhea sighed, setting the dress back on its hanger and making her way over to Jey's side, her brows furrowing as she noticed the Zillow app open on his screen. "What is it? Pensacola?" she asked, eyeing the house listing he was showing her.

Jey nodded, sliding the phone into her hand. "Yeah. Trinity and Jon are gonna sell this house. They wanna’ move back to Pensacola."

Rhea blinked, surprised. "Seriously? I thought they loved it here."

"They do," Jey said, sitting up and leaning closer to her. "But Jon’s missing home, and you know how it is with the family. Trinity’s down for it, too. Says she wants to be closer to everyone." He paused for a moment, reading the skepticism on her face. "It's just a rental for now, though. Nothing permanent."

Rhea glanced back at the listing as Jey swiped down showing her the photos of the property, still unsure. She liked the idea of being closer to the family, but a sudden move like this felt...unsettling. Especially after everything that had happened recently. "I don’t know, Jey... I mean, it's been crazy lately. Now moving?"

He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, kissing her temple. "Babe, it's gonna be alright. Plus, my dad's putting the house in Titusville on Airbnb. He’s moving back to Pensacola, too. Everyone's gonna be around. It’ll be good, trust me."

She looked down at the phone in her hand, then back at Jey, the warmth of his arm around her easing her nerves just a bit. "Yeah, I guess... it could be good. I just don’t want any more surprises, you know?"

Jey smiled, brushing a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. "No more surprises. Just family, okay? We'll figure everything out."

Rhea leaned into him, feeling a small sense of calm as she rested her head on his shoulder. "Alright... I'll trust you. But I still gotta figure out what to wear for this dinner," she added, her voice lightening as she gestured to the colorful closet with a faint chuckle.

Jey grinned, tapping the screen of his phone again. "Well, at least I don’t have to worry about that. I already know what I’m wearing."

Rhea rolled her eyes, playfully shoving him. "Of course you do. Lucky you."

After what felt like an eternity of sifting through endless colorful options, Rhea finally settled on something that felt more like her. She tugged a little black lace dress from the back of the closet — sleek, fitted, and unapologetically bold. As soon as she slid it on, she knew it was the one. The way it hugged her curves made her feel confident, even if it was a bit tighter than she wanted. She twisted around in front of the mirror, admiring the way the lace glistened under the light, but there was one problem — the back was too tight.

Rhea huffed in frustration, tugging at the zipper, but it wouldn’t budge. Defeated, she slipped out of the room and into the bedroom where Jey was still lounging, focused on his phone.

"Jey, can you help me?" she asked, trying to sound casual, but there was a hint of irritation in her voice.

Jey didn’t look up at first, too absorbed in scrolling through his Zillow listings, but the moment he glanced over at her, his jaw nearly dropped. He blinked, slowly lowering the phone as he took in the sight of her in that dress. The tight black lace clung to her in all the right places, and the subtle sheen gave her an almost dangerous allure. He’d seen Rhea look amazing before, but this? This was next level.

“Damn, babe,” Jey muttered, his voice low, clearly blown away. “You look… insane.”

Rhea gave him a smirk, feeling her confidence swell even more at his reaction. "Yeah? Well, you can admire me after you fix this." She turned her back to him, pulling her hair to the side to reveal the too-tight zipper.

Jey got up quickly, still a bit speechless as he moved behind her. His fingers brushed her skin as he carefully loosened the zipper, his eyes never leaving her reflection in the mirror. "You seriously look amazing," he said quietly, his hands lingering for a moment longer than needed as he adjusted the back of the dress.

Rhea caught his gaze in the mirror and smiled, biting her lip. "Glad you like it," she teased. "Now focus, I need to be able to breathe at dinner."

Jey chuckled, finally loosening the zipper just enough to give her some room, he used the buttons inside the dress to fill the gap from the zipper and he couldn’t help himself from letting his hands rest on her waist for a moment longer. "If we weren’t going to dinner with Jon and Trinity, I’d suggest we stay in," he murmured, half-joking, half-serious.

Rhea turned around, playfully swatting his chest. "Nice try. We’re going, and you’re gonna sit across from me and pretend like you’re not thinking about this dress all night."

Jey grinned, pulling her closer for a quick kiss. "Deal. But just know, I’ll be thinking about it."

Jey finally slipped into his outfit, looking sharp and relaxed in his black button-up shirt and fitted jeans. He adjusted his collar in the mirror while Rhea fussed with her makeup, adding the final touches to her look. Once satisfied, he stepped back, nodding to himself. "Alright, I'm heading downstairs," he said, giving Rhea a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving the room.

As he made his way downstairs, he found Damian, Jon, and Trinity standing around in the living room, chatting and laughing. Trinity noticed him first, checking her phone. “It’s almost 8:30… we gotta gooooooo,” she teased, dragging out the words with a playful smirk.

Jey rolled his eyes, pulling his phone out. "Alright, alright. Let me call Rhea before y’all lose it." He reached over the stairs and called up the stairs, "Babe, we gotta roll!"

From upstairs, Rhea’s voice echoed back, "Coming!" She grabbed her new iPhone and wallet from the dresser, giving herself one last glance in the mirror. Satisfied, she took a deep breath and strutted down the stairs.

As she stepped into the living room, all conversation halted. Damian, Jon, and Trinity stared at her, their jaws slightly dropping as she descended the stairs in that little black lace dress. Jey stood there, grinning like a fool, unable to hide his pride.

Damian broke the silence with a laugh, shaking his head. “Where’s the stereo so I can play Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer? It’s giving She’s All That.”

Rhea stopped at the bottom of the stairs, glancing down at her outfit, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious under all the attention. "Too much?" she asked, her brows furrowed as she tugged slightly at the hem of the dress.

Immediately, they all shook their heads, a chorus of "No!" erupting from the group.

"Rhea," Trinity said, stepping forward with a smile, "you can personally have that dress because no one else could pull it off like you. Trust me, it’s perfect."

Rhea’s tense expression melted into a smile. "Thanks, Trin," she said, feeling more confident again.

Jey extended his arm out toward her, a charming grin still plastered on his face. “My beautiful girlfriend…” he said, emphasizing the words as if he wanted the whole world to know.

Rhea smiled, taking his arm and glancing at him with affection. "You're too sweet," she murmured, giving his arm a playful squeeze. They looked every bit the perfect couple, ready for a night out, and as they headed toward the door, the excitement in the air grew.

"Alright, let's get going before Trinity freaks out," Damian joked, ushering everyone out.

—

As the white Escalade eased to a stop in front of Fogo De Chão, the staccato burst of camera flashes greeted them before they could even open the doors. Jey's sharp eyes caught the swarm of media waiting just beyond the valet stand, their cameras poised like vultures. He sighed, glancing over at Damian, who was seated next to Rhea.

“Damian, take Rhea and go in first,” Jey instructed quietly, his voice low and calm despite the brewing storm of reporters. “Stay behind Jon and Trinity. We’ll keep the focus on them.”

Damian nodded without hesitation. He stepped out of the car, opening the door for Rhea, who quickly slid on her sunglasses, her face partially hidden beneath the brim of her cap. She gave Jey a brief, grateful look before stepping onto the pavement, her arm lightly brushing against Damian’s as they made their way toward the restaurant entrance. Behind them, Jon and Trinity exited the car, their frustration evident in their body language.

Trinity shot a glare toward the photographers, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I swear, they can’t leave us alone for one night,” she muttered under her breath as she adjusted her sunglasses and smoothed her jacket.

“Don’t let it get to you,” Jon said, his hand brushing hers as they walked. “Let’s just get inside.”

“The reservation’s for Fatu,” Trinity snapped, turning to the valet as she handed him the keys. Her tone was short, and her patience was clearly wearing thin.

The valet smiled politely, quickly scanning his list before offering instructions on how to retrieve the car. “Thank you, ma’am. We’ll have the car ready for you when you’re done.”

Trinity barely acknowledged him as she ushered the group toward the entrance, eager to escape the blinding flashes of light and murmured questions from the reporters. As they passed through the glass doors, the cool, quiet interior of Fogo De Chão was a walk in the park compared to the chaos outside. The familiar scent of roasting meats greeted them, the atmosphere inside serene and calm compared to the frenzy they had just left behind.

The restaurant’s manager, a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair and a kind smile, immediately approached them, his eyes filled with concern. “Mr. and Mrs. Fatu I’m so sorry about the media. We didn’t expect this tonight.”

“It’s fine,” Jon said, though his tone suggested it wasn’t fine at all. “Just make sure we don’t have to deal with them while we’re in here.”

“Of course,” the manager assured him, nodding quickly. “I’ve already arranged for a private room in the back. I’ll have the waitress take you there right away.”

A server appeared, her smile welcoming as she gestured for them to follow her. The group made their way through the main dining area, the lively chatter of diners and the sound of clinking glasses surrounding them, though it all felt distant, like a world apart. Rhea kept her head low as they walked, her body language still tense from the encounter with the press. Damian, always protective, remained close to her side, his presence offering silent support.

They were led into a dimly lit private room at the back of the restaurant, a secluded space with large windows that overlooked a quiet garden, the soft glow of candlelight giving the room an intimate feel. It was exactly what they needed—privacy, away from prying eyes.

As everyone took their seats around the large, round table, a heavy silence settled over them. Rhea removed her sunglasses, placing them down on the table beside her phone. She glanced at Jey, who sat across from her, their eyes meeting briefly. The last few months had been an emotional rollercoaster, and though the noise outside had momentarily quieted, the weight of everything they’d been through was still there, lingering between them like unspoken words.

Trinity sighed as she settled into her chair, her fingers tapping restlessly against the edge of the table. “Can’t even go out for dinner without them showing up,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. “I’m so tired of it.”

Jon placed a comforting hand on her arm, leaning in slightly. “Let’s just focus on tonight. We’re here, we’re safe, and we’ve got the best food in town coming our way.”

“Yeah,” Damian chimed in, flashing a small smile at Rhea, who sat next to him. “Let’s make the most of it. We’ve earned a little peace after everything.”

Rhea nodded slowly, but her mind was still far away, her thoughts drifting back to the whirlwind of events—Jey, the affair, the pregnancy, and the heartbreaking loss that still ached deep in her chest. She glanced down at her hands, her fingers absentmindedly fidgeting with the edge of the napkin in front of her. Damian, ever the observant friend, reached over and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. His silent reassurance grounded her, pulling her back into the present.

The server returned with menus, placing them down on the table as she took their drink orders. As the room began to settle, the tension slowly ebbed away, the dim lighting and quiet atmosphere offering them a momentary reprieve from the chaos outside.

“Let’s make a toast,” Jon said suddenly, lifting his glass of water as he waited for the others to join him. “To getting through this mess. To family, to friends… and to better days ahead.”

Everyone raised their glasses in silent agreement. Rhea managed a small smile, glancing around the table at the people who had become her anchor in the storm. For now, in this quiet room with the people who mattered most, she could try to let go of the weight pressing down on her, if only for a little while.

Rhea excused herself from the table, her stomach churning for more reasons than just the food. She could feel the weight of the pill bottle in her purse, calling to her. As everyone was almost done eating, she seized the moment, muttering something about needing to freshen up. Slipping away from the table, she glanced back to see if anyone noticed, but they were still engaged in conversation.

Jey, on the other hand, had been watching her more closely than she realized. He quickly finished his lamb chops, excusing himself in a hurry. As he stood up, Jon couldn’t resist the opportunity.

“You need a condom, Uce?” Jon teased, a smirk spreading across his face. The comment hit like a thunderclap.

Damian and Trinity erupted into laughter, their voices cutting through the low hum of the restaurant. Jey didn’t even bother to respond verbally, flipping them off instead as he made his way toward the bathroom. His heart raced, not entirely sure why, but something felt off with Rhea tonight.

He saw her slip into the family bathroom, the door barely shutting behind her. He hesitated only for a moment before following her. Quietly, he turned the handle and stepped inside, careful not to startle her. But she already seemed on edge, her hand darting out of her purse the second he entered.

Rhea froze, her breath catching in her throat, her eyes wide as she looked at him. She stood by the sink, inches away from pulling out the pill bottle she thought she so desperately needed.

“What are you doing in here?” she asked, her voice shaky, the question more of a defense mechanism than anything else. Fear flickered in her eyes—she wasn't ready for this conversation.

Jey stepped closer, his eyes locking with hers. He could tell something was wrong. Something deeper than just sneaking away for a break. Jey leaned against the sink, his eyes soft but full of concern. He broke the silence gently. “Babe… I hear them.”

Rhea froze, her breath catching in her throat. She didn’t dare look up as she felt the weight of his words settle between them. “What do you mean?” she asked, feigning innocence, her fingers brushing against the edge of her purse again.

Jey’s expression didn’t change as he referenced the pills. “The bottle. I hear it every time you move.” His voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge of worry underneath. “Are you in that much pain?”

Rhea forced herself to meet his gaze, and without thinking, she lied. “It’s… It’s just the pain, Jey. The cramps. They’ve been killing me. I needed something.”

Jey’s face hardened just a little, and his tone dropped. “Nah, Demi… I saw the bottle. The ‘as needed’ pills? They’re gone.” He shook his head slightly, disappointment creeping in. “You haven’t even touched the antibiotics for the infection. The Oxycodone… that’s the only thing you’ve been taking.”

Rhea winced. He never called her by her real name unless things were serious—really serious. The guilt began to gnaw at her, but she forced herself to hold his gaze.

“Joshua, it’s the cramps… they hurt me…” She lied again, the words bitter as they left her lips. She could feel the gap between them widening with each untruth.

Jey didn’t push further, but the weight of his disappointment was clear. He sighed, stepping closer to her, his fingers tracing her cheek before he leaned in and kissed her softly. It wasn’t like his usual kisses—this one was filled with a deep sadness and vulnerability. When he pulled back, he looked into her eyes, and for the first time, his walls came down.

“Demi, I love you,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you more than anything. I’d do anything for you, you know that. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you from Matt, but moving forward, I want us to start fresh.” His hand found hers, squeezing it gently. “I already started the process to divorce Takecia.”

Rhea blinked, shocked by the admission. She hadn’t expected him to take that step so soon, and hearing him say it made her heart race.

“I’ll help you divorce Matt too,” Jey continued. “We can be free of all this. I wouldn’t be here, buying you a new phone or planning a life together, if I didn’t mean it. Fuck… Dem I wouldn’t be here if I thought you was a ho’. I’m all in, Demi. I love you. I want a future with you.”

Rhea’s eyes filled with tears, the sincerity in his voice cutting through every defense she had built up. He was right—he wouldn’t be doing any of this if he wasn’t serious. He was all in.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Rhea made a strong choice. She reached into her purse, pulled out the pill bottle, and handed it to Jey without saying a word. Her hand trembled as she let go, but the moment felt powerful—like reclaiming a piece of herself she was about lose.

Jey looked at the bottle, his expression softening. Without hesitation, he walked over to the trash can and dumped the pills, letting them fall away with a quiet clatter. He didn’t say anything, but the gesture spoke volumes.

When he turned back to her, his eyes were filled with a mix of love and relief. He walked back over, cupping her face in his hands. “I’m all in if you are, Demi.”

Rhea nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks as she whispered, “I’m in, Joshua. I’m all in.”

They stood there in the quiet of the bathroom, wrapped in each other’s arms, as the weight of their situation slowly lifted. For the first time, love wasn’t just something they said to each other—it was the choice they made. Together.

—

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mongeese · 3 months ago

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The way that Faulkner died... his reunion with Carpenter was a final trial and he failed. He refused the hand that was reached out to him until it was too late, drowned by his river, dragged down by the robes he fought and killed and lied to obtain. It's never to late to change isn't it? Can't we all still change? But he was too far gone, couldn't recognize his sister, couldn't recognize himself. People can change but you have to take the opportunity when offered. You have to accept love when it's given. People can change but so often the world doesn't let you, or you don't let yourself. He sent his sister away and regretted it too late. But still she granted him kindness... it's not a question of deserving it. Things can end with kindness regardless. Starts sobbing uncontrollably. Jon and Muna and Méabh and B. when I fucking GET YOU!!!!!

#tsv #the silt verses #tsv spoilers #and hes literally doing this while blond...

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rise-my-angel · 4 months ago

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Heart of the Great Wolf

54 - The Final Marching Trek

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

Length: 16.1k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, unspecified mental illness, mental duress, references to cheating/infidelity, body image issues, insecurities, violence and disturbing imagery, past trauma torture and mutilation, separation

Notes: Thank you for your patience in me posting this, I appreciate you all more then you know. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

It was not a sight terribly dissimilar to the one you were looking to now. A ridge overlooking a river with the cold wind blowing your hair out in front of you. The melancholy feeling unsure in your bones not knowing what it was the future held you were moving towards, what family and love was to soon look like. Only, then it was a dress grazing along the grass as it blew as well and the company some degree behind you was vast and irritating.

What too was different, was who approached you. Trapped within the clutches of that day you recalled, was the graceful beauty of Queen Cersei approaching you in your silence standing by the running water as the noise faded into the distance. Not with words yet did she make her presence known, but you felt her there all the same. Her blonde hair loose much like yours now, the long length you, back in such a memory, had long since given up having again.

Yours now was such a length as hers, but then you had half less then her in frustration. She had always insisted you have proper handmaidens from your first day in Kings Landing, and you by fourteen had cut your hair short in a ladies standards to avoid them fussing over it everyday. It was longer then even Jons long curls now but still was quite short in terms of what a highborn lady normally looked. Her dress too, always impeccable. Never did you see such a Queen in your reflection which sat so naturally on her.

No matter how much now you would wish for nothing more then to see Cersei Lannister as far from the Iron Throne as possible, she no doubt looked the most like a true Queen should then any attempt you could make in your life. She had been pregnant with Myrcella by the time you first met her at the feast on Dragonstone, and even then she was beautiful. Standing next to her at that river side however, it was not one highborn lady against another.

You had long since then learned when Cersei spoke with manipulation, but it was a raw honesty she had finally let out only when she was sure no one else was near to listen.

She once held affection for you when you were a girl, and only sometimes by then did she still have enough humanity to let it out when no one was looking.

Strangely enough, she echoed something similar to what Renly had said to you not long before you departed for the Kingsroad. “Most girls don't look quite so grim before their wedding.” You didn't answer, and luckily, she took no offence to it.

Cersei it seemed, saw such raw nerves within you, or the hiding of something unknown and recognized what almost, seemed like a vision of herself in another time. Biting your tongue, you thought not of the face you were losing but the unknown of what having what you had with him, would be like with his brother. A small tilt of your head to the side indicated your uncertainty on the matter.

Taking another step closer, finally you could sense her gaze towards you but you were unwilling to look away from the waving waters rushing by. “If it is the bedding you are worried about-”

“It isn't, your grace.” That was a lie, but you would have rather not gotten into that discussion now or ever with her. “I've known Robb Stark many years, what I will be getting myself into shouldn't be much of a mystery as a whole, I suppose.”

Glancing to her, there was a sadness you had recognized from many years before even that day. One as a girl of fourteen in her chambers being told a heavy truth, realizing that was not the end of what she had to say. “Never expect the men in your life to treat you with any form of goodness, and it will never be able to disappoint you when they become far worse.”

Yet the image did not match what you knew, outside of the love you then were too scared to admit, Robb was as perfect of a match as a highborn girl just like yourself could dream for. Still though, you had found yourself giving into her perspective just a little, if not from the nerves running inside you. “I am aware of what is expected of me, your grace. Do what makes my husband happy, and that should be enough for most men.”

Her huff was not a laugh but perhaps something more sinister in perspective of her own marriage. “Trust me, my dove, that will never be enough for any man. You will give every part of yourself to him, and it one day will be too little. Your bed grows colder and colder until you no longer sleep in the same as him, and when he finds himself with a new, younger woman to play with, you will have no choice but to pretend it is not happening and that you are still enough.”

Attempting to interject, it did not fall on deaf ears, but perhaps biased ones. “Robb is not a man who would-”

“All of them are. Make no mistake.” Finally your eyes met as you turned more to face her, as much malice was painted behind hers there was also something wishing to provide a proper comfort which she did not think existed. “Learn that early, and you will never be disappointed when they betray you. You will do your duty, but once he does not need you anymore, don't waste your life trying to force it to be as it once was. A wife will never convince her husband to return to her once he's taken a whore into bed behind your back.”

All in the high court knew too well the degree of Robert Baratheons infidelity, and it made not a soul comfortable with the fact of how brazen he was with it. More of a strained whisper, you could not match such images from Robert to Robb. “He would still expect me to..”

“Birth him children, and you will be surprised what little he shall expect of you afterwards. In the rare event Robert leaves his whores long enough to stumble drunk into my bed, I finish him off in other ways. In the morning he doesn't remember.”

No, you thought again. None of that fit, that was not Robb. You knew without a doubt that was not the Robb you knew. If it was only fear she meant to instill however, why looking at Cersei did you then feel something a wave of doubt in your own sense of self. You knew you looked nothing near her beauty, and if she could not keep her husband interested in someone who looks as alluring as she, perhaps it was not out of the realm of possibility.

But again, you had known Robb for years. “This isn't the same, I've known Robb since I was a girl. You've always hated Robert-”

If it was honesty you did not expect, it was honest you got in a very suddenly raw display of genuity in her eyes. “Hated him? I worshipped him. Every girl in the Seven Kingdoms dreamed of him, but he was mine by oath.” Glancing out to the river now, lost in a memory of her own you could see bright in her eyes. “And when I finally saw him on our wedding day in the Sept of Baelor, lean and fierce and black bearded, it was the happiest moment of my life.” But as her eyes met yours, so did the memory of false hope fade within her. “Then that night he crawled on top of me, stinking of wine and did what he did, what little he could do, and whispered in my ear Lyanna.”

Instantly you looked away. Face falling into a twisting conflict, knowing one story and another but there was little you could say to make that alright. Lyanna Stark was dead, but on that night Cersei Lannister was a living girl, now his wife, and Robert refused to love her more then the one who was never coming back. Not something you imagined then, or now, would be easy to feel.

It was the thing you refused to let Jon think in comparison to Robb, but Robert let Cersei feel it in comparison to Lyanna. None of it was fair, but it was what she said next that was on your mind in the cold present. “Do you remember what I told you when you were a girl? The morning your red flower had bloomed?”

You hesitated, but nodded yes.

Cersei if anything, spoke with something even more honest behind her attempts to hide it. “Never forget that. If it weren't for my children, I'd have thrown myself from the highest window in the Red Keep long ago. They're the reason I'm alive. It isn't much, but yours may be the only happiness you'll be able to find, as mine are.”

Truth be told, you knew she must have been quite willing to be honest if not for a second did she say anything against it when it slipped out. “Even Joffery?”

But she almost only smiled knowingly. “Even Joffery. He was all I had once. Before Myrcella was born. I used to spend hours looking at him. His wisps of hair. His tiny little hands and feet. You always hear the terrible ones were terrible babies, but it's nonsense. Whenever he was with me, he was happy. And no one can take that away from me, not even Joffery. How it feels to have someone of your own.”

Did you have that? Had you ever? Past or present you struggled to see if you ever truly found that as the fog continued to fade so much away from your mind. In the memory, you had barley found the strength to respond, “It cannot be impossible to find some medium, your grace. Somewhere in between the best and worst, to just have a family I may be content with.”

“But it is, my dove. Women such as us do not have a choice. We either claw our way to the top, or die at the very bottom. We don't get to have a middle ground.”

She had left you alone by the water then, the next day you would all set out to make the remaining two days to Winterfell and find out if what she warned had been the truth or not. But as you stood in the cold air in the present, your mind felt far away still, and you had not yet thought you figured it out.

Little Eddard had woken up before the rest, and you had brought him far from the significant amount of hearing space from the campsite to settle him. Cries more muffled as you held the warm bundle close to your front to take all of the cold wind away from his exposed skin, and yet you had somehow found yourself drifting to that day by the water when he was finally calming.

Cersei was not a stupid woman, she knew to Joffery she was lesser in his eyes, but she loved him anyways. Held onto that love because he was hers, and not even he could take that away from her, but as you stood there it felt worse and worse. The fear that Eddard was yours yes, you needed him, but he did not want you. He was supposed to be the thing you held onto that would keep you even a small bit happy, but what if your son was different?

What if he was never happy with you? Already a festering fear dripped into your bloodstream whispering poison that you would never be the same for Jon again. You reached the point Cersei spoke of. You gave him one, and perhaps this was it. You would give him more and nothing else mattered about you to him. A woman like Cersei was beautiful, you were not. You could not even offer Jon that much.

The girl, Daisy, she had been fearful to be honest with you. Admitting that her instructions from Petyr Baelish included securing one of her girls in the brothel to seducing the King in the North for means of sabotaging you both before marriage. But you had not feared it then, knowing there was guilt on her for ever once considering needing to do it. You were not insecure when you had jested to her that marrying the day he and you returned likely ruined that plan.

But you were now. It would be weeks before he could even take you the way he'd want too, and you knew Jon enjoyed his freedom to be physical with you. You hated it, you never compared Robb to Robert but now something inside of you was falling into Cersei's trap and fearing that it was Jon who would cast you aside.

He didn't deserve to be questioned, you didn't even mean it maliciously. You felt as opposite of alluring as you could ever possibly be, Jon would not be to blame if he sought someone smaller and prettier then you for his pleasure instead. You'd give him as many children as he wanted without question, but maybe you had lied to yourself into thinking you were the exception here.

A happy family, a husband and son that you loved and loved you. But if Cersei was right, you were only lying to yourself, and it would only cause Jon and now little Eddard to feel smothered by your attempts to try and keep them to yourself.

The previous night may as well not existed, whatever laughs and smiles was shared between your new family of your making, did not exist. Maybe you imagined it, or Jon was only humouring you because he still had to put up with dragging you home for days. But you shouldn't complain. This was what you were born to do.

Marry a man and have his children. That was your duty. You didn't have the right to want more from Jon then what he's already done for you.

The sudden feeling however of arms slinking around your person, one to your hip and the other gentler across your front and tugging you back just slightly almost had you jump in place. A deep murmur rasping in your ear with a just as gentle chuckle to follow, “Didn't mean to scare you.” Muttering passingly it was fine, Jon leaned over your shoulder a bit to properly see the little one. “Everything alright?”

Nodding, you could only hope your whisper was not as obviously unsettled as was the beginnings of racing returning to your heart. “He woke up a little fussy. Brought him over here so he didn't wake you all.” Almost turning to look, Jons grip on your hip tightened to keep you in place as he assured you so far only you five were awake. “Five?”

Feeling his head nod somewhat in the distance to just outside your immediate view, you could see Ghost and Summer both clearly stalking around the distant forest in hunting demeanour. A small babble coming from the bundle, you shifted so the baby could more easily look around. Jon pulling his hand from your front to tug a glove off with his teeth, stashing it to his side before reaching back around. His hand gentle as it ran across the top of his head, and the babble turned into a louder sound.

Just as nonsensical but a little brighter as did his eyes open more from his drowsy state. You could practically feel Jons smile without needing to see it when you felt the hesitation in you, fighting with the logic and ultimately the question slipped out more uncertain about which answer you'd rather receive then you liked. “Did you want to take him?”

If he picked up on it yet, he didn't say anything. Just a shake of his head before rasping out, “No, we're all fine right here.” Once more, if your silence in response was awkward you did not know if he noticed or chose not to speak on it. Just a tight lipped single nod, before finding yourself no longer able to relax, as if you had been relaxed before.

Jon wasn't touching you as if he didn't want to, but you also knew you were mostly hidden away and would be until you were within at least four walls. You'd have something figured out by then, what to do about it. Desperate in hope you would be able to spot his dwindling interest and you'd be smart enough to find a way to keep just a scrap of it a little while longer.

“How much longer until we reach the Wall?”

Glancing over only long enough to spot Meera by Bran and Jon as she asked the question, you quickly turned back. Stone facing your gaze to something more passive in case they caught it. Your eyes only narrowed for only a moment until they turned somewhat playful. A smirk forming over that did not help the look in Eddards. You knew that mischievous look far too well, present in some form or another in all Starks.

Sighing deeply, you let your fingertips run along his sides as you leaned in with a gentle whisper, a scolding tone not serious enough to be picked up on. “Oh, so now that you're clean you've decided now is the time to start being silly?” He was so small still, it had only been a few days but it was noticeable everytime you cleaned him.

As best he could making almost what you could describe as rather grabby hands, you shifted so one hand pulled the loose strands of your hair more behind your back as he once more almost giggled. For something so small and young, already he was chalk full of personality. You wished you had proper clothes to dress him in. Only using what of yours and Jons you both could readily spare, wrapped up more in fabrics and furs around to keep him extra warm but you hated not having things for him.

Pulling him up finally and resting him high on your torso, whatever lightness was on your face suddenly left as you turned back. Jon kneeling down securing his pack as he smiled at whatever he and Bran were talking about. Benjen and Meera both seemingly familiar with one another to some degree discussing something which looked as if it were about the area. Ghost and Summer both similarly sticking by one another close to Jon and Bran.

The only one who was not quite fitting in with the group however was not you alone. Instead, you could see the unreadable stare of Yara watching you from where she was covering up the embers of the fire. Hardly brave enough to hold her gaze in case she said something, you didn't want to start a confrontation with your son in your arms. Biting your tongue you tugged the furs a little more over Eddards head before looking away.

Inhaling deeply, you moved to pretend as if you belonged in this trio of pairs which had no room for you. Glancing up from Bran you could see Jons silent gaze ask once more if you were alright, the tight smile you gave which lasted hardly half of a second as your eyes tore away from him, meant you missed the look he gave in return. Lips parted slightly as if wishing to say something, but swallowing rough as the rest of his face twisted into a frown, no longer engaging quite the same with Bran.

Jon had to leave much of your things behind when you were taken, unable to carry two packs and a baby. He tried to bring what he could of yours, but you had nothing to carry if not the baby. Not even the furs on your front, now being used to keep him wrapped and warm since Jon had to make use of what you left behind. The cloak Benjen tore from the dead for you to wear was still all you really had to fight the wind outside the long sleeved layers over you otherwise. So you had nothing to prepare to leave but the baby in your arms, as everyone else worked to leave.

Not a clue you had, that you looked extremely lost and disconnected as you stood in the camp sight without finding anyone to go close to in any capacity. You felt it, but you thought you were discreetly more to the side then you were. But no, you stood out greatly to multiple eyes who unbeknownst to you, could see something was wrong.

It had been for days and it wasn't getting any better.

New mothers were supposed to be filled with joy, and you felt love and a bonding with Eddard but your insides felt hollow. As if what you were giving him was the remainder of your emotional capacity, it was not terribly unlike when you returned from death. Not as torturous and grieving, but the same emptiness in your heart like something in you was left behind.

When the thought came into your head, you didn't know, but all you could tell was that it hadn't left in hours. The thought, the realization that Ramsay was right. Birthing a son was your only use, and once you fulfilled that, you were useless and worthless to the world. Not at all aware as well, of how worried you had begun making Jon since you all set out that morning.

He had come up to you with a bright worry in his eyes, asking low with a hand at your cheek if you were really alright and you had barley muttered with not much energy, “It's fine, let's just go.” Your eyes avoiding his the whole sentence. Jon tilted his head trying to glance around but found too many people trying to watch. Instead guiding you with a hand at your lower back to begin moving, muttering into your ear to tell him if you need help or want a break from carrying him.

You hadn't even let him help you wrap the baby up and around your front to carry with ease, which he had done every time without second thought. Jon certainly noticed that as well. Too he wondered, if he didn't even hand you food would you even eat of your own free will? You knew you had to beacuse of the baby, but you didn't even look like you wanted to eat or drink anything. You barley were focused if not just on the baby, and the small moments of joy you had were less and less and more Jon found something with a pain behind your steeled expression.

It frustrated Jon, he didn't have any real privacy out here. When it was you, him and Ghost alone, that was nothing but privacy. But now, Jon couldn't have any time with you that wasn't with at least one pair of eyes watching. Yaras voice came from his left, her own eyes trained forward on your figure moving closer to Meera, Bran, and Benjen but not close enough to be part of any conversation. “I told you this would happen.”

Low and rough, Jons face twisted rather quickly into anger. “I know my wife better then you do.”

He despised the dismissive and snarkish manner she threw back with. “Let me guess. You're different, you aren't like most men, what you two have is special and she knows it.” It sounded pathetic the rude manner she phrased it, but that didn't make it all false, he knew what you had was different but he let her keep speaking. “Trust me, Stark. You're not different. None of you men are. She knows eventually one day you'll get tired of her, and start choosing to get any run of the mill whore to suck your cock instead of her.”

Reaching out, Jon forced her to stop as he twisted her to face him in an instant. Face and eyes radiating with anger that hissed out in his low tone to not draw attention. “You have no idea what you're talking about.” Questioning if she didn't, Jon felt his muscles urging to twitch and lash out with the feeling knowing there was no where for the tension in them to actually go. “She's the only woman I've ever loved, ever been with-”

“Is she the only woman you've ever fucked, Stark?”

Something unwell churned in his stomach at the question, and yet the manner which his lack of response was taken, was in the worst way possible. The one which he knew gave her an image that wasn't anywhere near the truth. He would've been able to confidently say yes if it weren't for Ygritte, and now the image he just gave Yara was Jon had been unfaithful to you.

A condescending smirk came over her face, “I told you. All the same. You're pretty wife over there knows it'll happen again, it always does. If you really love her, try and at least pretend you'll be loyal to her until you can get her help. Bad things happen when you let newborn mothers become this way.” Asking what, Yara's smirk fell into something serious and dark which Jon already figured out the answer to as she spoke slowly. “Bad things. If you want my advice Stark, maybe start carrying the baby yourself. Protect your son from her, if you don't really care enough to help her.”

Trying to walk way, Jon yanked her back aggressively. That time, not caring that her protest caught the attention of everyone else. Still speaking low, “And you're what? An expert on protecting your family?” Sharply mentioning he was the one who killed Victarion he cut in, “We both know who I'm talking about. So don't stand there and talk down to me about protecting the people you love.”

Nearly shoving passed her, his shoulder running into hers, he cared not about looking back. Ignoring the stares from the rest, Benjen motioned to keep going. Reading quick into Jons lack of willingness to even partially explain whatever it was just occurred. Instead, coming up to you, Jon turned you back to go forward and pulled you into his side as must as he could without jostling you and the baby.

Letting his hand at your lower back rise up to your hip and waist he tried to run up and down as soothing as he could. Your voice gentle trying to murmur to him, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jon knew he wouldn't be able to guess which way you would take it, but he said it anyways with the only truth he had. Not letting you stray from his touch again. “No. I just wish I could have you to myself right now. Both of you.” But when you gently asked again for his sake if he wanted to take Eddard for a while, Jon almost paused in his step.

If he took him right now, Jon knew it meant he was worried he didn't trust you, but your bright eyes looking up at him with that same softness Jons always been addicted too, he felt not a distrustful bone in his body towards you. Pulling your head only close enough to press a kiss to as he muttered by your ear, “He likes being carried by you more then me.”

Brows narrowing, with almost a light protest you shook your head slightly at him. “That's not true, Jon.”

“No?” Another kiss, tugging you closer into his side. “Next time we all stop, we'll test that, alright?” Your head jolted back a bit in what was the closest to amusement you had in a huff all day thus far, but you agreed with a nod. No he too thought, Yara had not a clue what you both were. Jon just needed to remind you of that too. The last thing he wanted was for you to fear he'd ever betray you like that, or even have eyes for a woman not you.

The men in your family did not provide a stable history of mens loyalty to their wives, Jon knew. So he needed to remind you that you were also his family. And now more then ever did Jon know, the men in his family were indeed loyal to those they were promised too.

Jon couldn't afford to let you get worse out here, he needed to get you home where you all belonged in order to properly give you the love you needed reminding was permanent. You were a drug to Jon, and one which it's potency would never lessen in any strength no matter how much he stayed with it.

Nights were easier, you weren't sure why. But they were.

Sitting by where Bran had comfortably propped up against for the evening close to the fire, he seemed always eager to have a chance at being allowed to just hold his nephew. Both of you speaking low, but the fog always in your head still seemed to clear more as the sun went down. You tried not to think how much Jon was incapable of looking away from you where he stood to the side of the small camp site with Benjen.

“It'll be easier to explain, or show you when we get to Winterfell. I promise, it's not that simple to put into words.”

Nodding with a small smile, you let your hand drift to mindlessly pull up the layers covering the baby, pulling a subsequent laugh from Bran. “What?”

As much as had tormented both of you for years, something inside you felt utterly relieved that you still could look at Bran and see the boy come out easily. His eyes had not let lost the light so much harm had stolen from many. “It's new, seeing you this way.” Mentioning he had been old enough to see you with Rickon as a baby, it was not unlike if someone would bring Shireen up to you. It went unspoken, but no blame came from his side when he switched his focus back to his original point. “Seeing you help with my brother isn't the same as seeing you as a mother.”

Your mindlessly gentle touches to the settled Eddard only stopped long enough for a noise to erupt from him as it to ask you to continue to run your hand over the top of his head. A smile brought out of you in an instant with a breath of a laugh. “It's odd being one. For a long time I thought I lost my only chance.” Bran protesting that he didn't mean it was odd, but you again laughed, albeit a little less meeting your eyes that time. “I know you didn't. But it doesn't make that false.”

Meeting his young gaze, yours softened away any duress in your own eyes. It was easy with Bran, no matter what had changed he was still the sweet boy you've known his whole life. Inhaling deeply, Bran looked up to Jon. You couldn't see, but the brothers both met eyes and Bran could not help but try and convey a lot to the blatant worry on Jons. Benjen too picked it up, purposely pulling Jon back to the conversation at hand, despite how often he kept looking over.

You took no notice, the smile on your lips growing as the baby tried to loosen his swaddle to grab at your hand. You had to fix the fur around him to keep him contained, but allowed him to grab at your hand, or moreso the only finger he could even pretend to grasp properly without looking away from eyes that looked so close to yours and Jons both.

What came out next however, was nothing close to the thoughts in which occupied your head beforehand. “You were the one in my dreams- visions, whatever we're calling them. But early on I'd see a boy almost watching whatever was happening trying to speak to me but when I came back I could never remember them.” He hadn't said anything, and so you prompted him properly. “Why?”

Opening his mouth, as if no time passed you dryly continued, “And don't say anything purposely cryptic like I was not in the right mind to accept it was you.”

Trying to withhold a small laugh himself, Bran looked away before meeting your eyes finding only a patience unlike the judgment which he seemed to have been expecting. More then once he seemed to attempt find the right words before settling on a quiet tone not meeting your gaze once more. “I didn't know I was doing it at first. I was trying to see if I could find anyone. Like the way Jojen found me in my dreams, I didn't know it would be so strong trying it with you.”

Swallowing roughly, you dared not imagine the charred black bones as you looked down to the baby. “That night..the dragon..the Targaryean girl. It felt like I was in someone elses head.”

“You were.” Meeting his eyes, Bran back tracked a little. “I told you, it's not easy to explain. I have to show you for you to understand.” Asking if that included what happened to cause him to come find you and Jon, Bran looked as if a grieving sorrow too hit him. “We all need to get to Winterfell first. He can't find us there.”

Hesitating, you almost weren't sure if you wanted to ask. “What does any of this have to do with Euron Greyjoy?” If Bran was going to answer, it was Yara who spoke up first. Coming up behind suddenly, she stood to your side as she spoke only to crouch down to meet more the height you met Bran at previously.

“He says you have some great power. That he wants you by his side because he's powerful, and you can give him even more.” You didn't want to consider it, how much more and more it was sounding like Euron was mixing with another who sounded much like that. “But the boy is right, you'll be safe in Winterfell. As long as where you are doesn't have a ship port nearby, that's as safe as you can get from my Uncle.”

First it was Brans eyes you met, then down to the babies, but turning to look at her your head continued as you spun around to realize it. What had been kept from you. Who this person was and only did her first name finally click. “You're Theons-”

“Sister.” Finishing for you, you nearly plucked the baby from Brans arms and moved away from her, but all of you stayed right where you were as she confessed, and in a rather honest almost guilty tone it appeared. “He sent us to take you to him, and then he sent his own men to finish the job hoping your King in the North back there would kill us first.”

It came much more out like distrust, but everything Ramsay had done to Theon and they never came for him. He had to risk his own life to run with you to escape when he had the Iron Islands which should have protected him. “Why would Euron hope for that?”

Turning, Yara sat not quite by Bran but on the wood serving as the seat propping his torso up comfortably. Elbows resting on her knees as her hands clasped together, face twisting as she debated words in her head trying to say them out loud for what seemed to be the first time. “You know what a Kingsmoot is?” Nodding your head yes, she ignored any of Brans reaction much to your dismay. “Well, I almost won it. Then Euron showed up, made a number of terrifying threats and promises and he knows if I didn't serve him then I'd oppose him. So, likely he expected the hot head over there to murder me and my uncle before we killed him.”

Breathless as your heart begun to pick up, you asked with wider eyes, “How did he know where to tell you to find us?” When she said he gave specific geographical directions, you felt no better. No, you felt a wave of dizzy rush through you as that racing heart turned to a painful pounding. Too much was going on around you now, everything was closing in on the North one way or another and you felt prepared for none of it.

Pushing up suddenly, that dizzy feeling suddenly waved over you like none other. Disorienting you as you could see him in your mind perfectly, but none of it made sense. Without any acknowledgement of other voices, you found yourself walking off into a direction without care of what was behind you. You needed air, you needed silence and you needed the cold to sting your lungs as you found yourself in a middle spot of nowhere only surrounded by trees.

Nothing illuminated your sights but the moon in the sky reflecting against the snow, but the remainder of the world spun. Eyes fluttering closed at the sensation, you crouched down to the ground squeezing them shut purposely to block out everything else trying to gain your focus. Bran, Euron, Bloodraven, crows and the sight it all spun a tale which you had no right being in and yet the reason most of this group were here was beacuse of you.

This wasn't what you wanted, returning back to the living you never wanted to be the centre of a single thing. Everyone else had a part to play so much more important, but yet here you were. Spinning in your mind, why would this all connect, how did you fall into the middle of it? Your visions and dreams once you saw Bran, then a crow and a raven and you knew one but not the other. The stranger- Euron, never spoke of a boy at all as if he didn't know about him.

Hands covering your face, your exhale was shaking. You had to pull it together, you knew. One thing at a time or else you were threatening to drown yourself. You could not afford to care what Euron wanted with you, not now. Rising your head from your palms, you ignored the sensation of watering possibly having slid down your face. Trying to steel your expression with each attempt of a deep breathe.

What was right in front of you? The answer was simple. He wanted you, not any else. Send men to take you, sent men to kill Jon, and you had no doubt were he to find you all know, he'd kill the baby too. So the solution was simple. Forget the rest plaguing your mind, get south of the Wall, get to Winterfell. Whatever he wanted with you, he couldn't go through them to do so.

Pushing up to your feet, wiping the remainder of tears away as the panic left your heart, the feeling creeping at the back of your neck rose up, only this time you had no weapon to brandish and the approaching figure remained a foot or two out of reach to prevent if you had. Eyes wide as you looked over Benjen, as he did with more of a narrow eyes concern as you let the nerves inside deflate a little bit.

“Jon seems to think you're rather good at running off out of nowhere.”

Inhaling a bit, the words heavy in your throat to push down the residual panic into something a bit strained but far more controlled. “Consider it the result of spending most of your life always doing what you were told.” Approaching more, your eyes glanced around behind him, none had followed.

Benjen picked up on it with ease. “I told the others to stay put. The last thing an emotional person needs is to be surrounded with other equally as emotional people.” Glancing away, your eyes almost rolling up a bit to indicate you understood his position. Wrapping your arms around yourself under the cloak you stood waiting for him to speak again. “I know this is all overwhelming.”

Raising an eyebrow without looking to him, you were rather dry about it. “Do you?”

Nodding, he breached the gap properly. Tone low without the return of attitude your exhausted state gave him. “For years, I thought I was the only one out here trying to figure this all out. Years, I thought that. Been all over the place, and everytime I learned something new I thought it couldn't get any more overwhelming. But it did.” Glancing up properly, your eyes did not paint as off putting a presence as your body language surely spoke. “And on top of all that, the family I never thought I'd see again, dead. Almost all of them dead. I thought I left everyone behind to save them, and they died before I could learn how to protect them from something they didn't even know was coming.”

For a moment, only a moment did you see it. The face, the eyes, the low tones serious but not mean. The only sibling he had left, and he only died months after parting ways. Blinking the remainder of the dizzy feeling away, you almost begun to look down more towards the ground in guilt. “It..it's almost strange. Like nothing has ever been right after the Lannisters took his head.”

Neither needed say who you were speaking of. But Benjen's brows furrowed as he looked down, hiding whatever he wished to keep internal, but you continued. “Your family should have all been together, handle this without having lost one another but it feels as if there's so few left we're all just scattered trying to fight what's too big for so few people.”

“How do you think the Nights Watch has felt for a long time?” A huff of a laugh came first from you, then stronger from him. “Do you remember why Bran and Meera went to find Jon and I went looking for you, instead of my nephew?” Shaking your head, Benjens answer as as passive sounding as it was unexpected. “The same thing Jon was scared of. What happened to Lyanna happening to you.” Asking gently what he was getting at, Benjen paused. Worried in your mind you came off as rude, but again he only laughed. “What?”

“I can see why my brother always wanted to keep you around, he never liked when people beat around the bush either.” The smile gracing your features was faint, but there. Such a thing was true, serving as Ned Starks ward for half of your life had certainly proven beneficial, when he needn't train you to prepare how he approached the world. “Everything closed in on my sister by the end because one mad man decided to make his grand vision all based around taking her for himself. You don't have to like that Eurons made this about you, but you have to understand it from our point of view. Each time you pull away, you're making the rest of us worry if we're about to watch it happen all over again. And I don't think Jon could handle losing you now.”

Benjen waited patiently for you to let such details sink into your mind. Not noticing the approaching footsteps somewhat in the distance behind him as your hand came up to nervously tap your nails at your lip for a moment trying to consider your words. Sometimes you hardly noticed, how easily you found yourself slipping back into the words as if he were right there. “When I married Robb, Lord Stark told me that I was one of you now, and the Starks all protect each other.” Benjen nodded but let you come to it on your own. “I suppose that hadn't quite kicked in yet, in my mind. That loyalty to your family means something very different then it did in mine.”

“You and Jon came out here to risk your lives to protect your people, so let the rest of us pay that back by protecting you. Where none of us had the chance to protect her. I'm not saying what you've been through is easy, but it'll be far easier to just let other people protect you instead of worrying it makes you selfish.”

The voice from the distance however, was a little less comforting as it cut through the end of Benjens statement. “She's pretty bad at that.” Not quite light enough you could read Jons eyes from where you stood, but he seemed to have been leaning against the tree behind his uncle for some time. Arms crossed as his muscles seemed loose as if having stood back calm for a while. Making eye contact with his uncle, something unreadable passed. “I want a moment alone with her.”

Just as the Starks were though, they knew when to be serious and when the tense air required a reprieve. “You're King now, no arguing with a King.” Jon mustering only half a smirk as the two wolves passed the other. A hand braced on Jons shoulder, one wide eyed looking to his uncle as something either unspoken was shared or just that you could not hear.

It was not until Benjens footsteps finally crossed the barrier of audible when Jon slowly made his way over to you. Instead though of whatever he may have come to say at first, he seemed to have changed his mind as he got within merely a few feet. Holding a hand out to beckon you to come closer to him, the moment you slowly rose it to grasp his, Jon wasted not a second more pulling you firmly into his front.

Your arms wrapped around him almost faster then his could yours. A hand bracing against the back of your head to hide you within his neck as he leaned down to rest against your head with the side of his. A gentle rasp in your ear passing as he felt you holding back, “I want you to listen to me when I say this. You're an idiot.”

The laugh that burst from you pulled a big grin from Jon you could feel in your hair. A shaking voice no longer with a shred of devastation which seemed so inevitable earlier. “Thanks, Snow. Really making a girl feel special.”

Chuckling deep, Jon pulled you closer into his front more to keep you shielded from the rest of the empty forest around. “I've never met anyone as good at deluding herself into thinking no one wants her then you are.”

“I have a knack for it.”

Pulling back enough, Jon let a hand leave your hair to tilt you up by your cheek to meet his bright eyes shining down to you. “I know none of this is easy for you. All your life you were told this is why you're here and now that you've actually done that, all those horrible people whispering in your ear have lied to you enough it's manipulated you into believing it.”

A gentle whisper as your hands drifted to rest along the fur against his torso. “I know you love me, I do-”

The hand on your cheek drifted, running through the loose strands by the side of your head. “But something inside of you keeps lying to you and saying I don't. Yara and Meera both said their mothers went through something like this.” Brows narrowing in confusion, Jon was as gentle with his words as he was keeping you close to him without care. “After they gave birth, they said something in their mothers was wrong. They weren't themselves, always sad, they didn't think they were good enough. Neither know if it even has a name, but this isn't you. Everything pushing you away isn't really you. Whatever your worrying I think, it's not true.”

Biting your tongue, there was not a hint of a lie or facade anywhere in Jons eyes. Nothing but a love that could crush you if you let it, which sometimes, you wondered if such an option was the right one in fact. Fingertips toying with the material under them as if to distract, you forced the words to put themselves together. “I never meant for you to feel like I didn't trust you, or doubted you or how you feel. But after everything..it started to feel impossible to forget what everyone would tell me growing up.”

Cupping both your cheeks, Jon drew you up closer as he leaned down to nudge his nose gently against yours. “You brought me back to life, darling. If either of us is stuck with the other, you're the one stuck me with me.”

A skip in your heart followed with a beat passing before you found any words, not eyes closed feeling so warm close to him. “I'm sorry I was-”

Muttering close enough you felt his breath dance across your skin as he continued to brush your noses against one another. “Stop being sorry for things, for once in your life. Alright?” Only a hint of a smile was felt so close to you, but your nod was enough, just for now. Everything had fallen apart in hours only days ago, but you knew you never gave yourself a chance to process a second of it.

Of almost truly losing them, and them losing you. The world kept testing you, and thus far Jon and yourself have stayed in the others arms despite being tore apart too many times to count, this was just another one of those times. With more unnatural variables thrown in the mixture, but if you thought about it, death had already fallen upon both of you. What else could possible top that by now?

Leaning without any more patience, Jon for what you think was the first time since being torn apart, pressed his lips properly to yours without anything to hold back. Your hands moving to wrap around his shoulders and back of his neck, Jons grip on your cheeks and jaw was firm and unrelenting as guided your lips to follow along the demands of his soft ones.

Gentle as each single kiss did Jon deepen it only just the slightest. Easing you back into his touch, and moving to cup the back of your head, keeping you pressed to his lips and the other wrapping around your back to pull your front close to his. Brushing his tongue along your bottom lip, you parted right away, his tongue gliding into your mouth to let his tongue taste along yours. Yet it never felt between you as if he was demanding what you couldn't give.

Almost prompting you to explore him the way he loved doing to you, and patient as you were shyer and more hesitant of being so brazen with your own kiss. Breath leaving your lungs but you did not wish to say anything, not being prepared to feel anything but such soft lips against yours.

One kiss, then another, then one deeper one before the issue was far more Jon unable to pull away from your lips then anything else. Tearing himself from you, your lungs almost begging for air as the strands of saliva between you barley snapped before he turned your head down to leave a more firm kiss to your forehead. Resting his against yours, Jon only pulled you comfortably into his front, as you arms held him as tight as he held you tenderly.

Rasping roughly, his warm breathe meeting your skin as he spoke. “This is what we're going to do. Until I get you home, all that matters if you and the baby. Everything that's happened, even Euron, none of that matters as long as you're out here. We get you and our son home, make sure you're alright, and only then do we start thinking about the rest of it.”

Nodding, you leaned up, wrapping your hands more around the back of his neck, as Jon returned your kiss with as much deepening passion as it could take to steal your breathe once more for himself. Hardly able to pull away enough to speak it, “I love you.”

Jon smiled partially into the kiss, his lips harsh and firm before pulling back again to look at you. Grey eyes bright as his smile. “I love you.” Only a moment passed before in a much lighter tone did Jon trail off into something more on the air of amused. “I don't want to be pushy, darling, but unfortunately for you, our son has my appetite.”

Eyes shining bright towards his, you muttered, “Oh I am well aware of that.”

Jon knew he'd need to keep an eye on you the next number of days until he got you home, but at this point, he knew being overprotective of you was second nature for him. It did strike both of you though, looking up to him from the side as he guided you back asking, “What are we going to tell everyone when we return after six months with a newborn?”

Pulling you more into his side, Jon muttered into your ear, grinning as you breathed out a flustered laugh in response. “I think they're all well aware of how often I interrupt my day to sink deep inside of you. They'll put it together.” You were beginning to think flustering you was Jons preferred past time by now.

“Are you purposely being stubborn?”

Raising your eyes up to look at Jon, you widened them only to make eye contact with the baby, leaning in with an exaggerated whisper towards him, “Now that could be been directed at either of us.”

Shaking his head with a concealed smirk dancing still in his eyes, Jon came to your side. A hand pulling your head closer to his lips to press against you, muttering with an amusement both of you were aware you'd pick up on. “If he's anywhere near as stubborn as you, I'm going to have my work cut out for me.” A laugh left you, trying to go back to little Eddard not wishing to cooperate with being swaddled once more after being brought to the side of the camp to clean. The hand of Jons not lingering on your spine reached over, gloved fingertips almost dancing playfully across his torso as the baby almost moved too much in his little laughter.

Learning your head somewhat towards Jon from the side you muttered, “You are not helping the matter, you know.” Instead of replying, Jon crouched down to be able to see the baby more at his eye level, leaning forward as he pulled his hand away only long enough to pull his glove off. Running his hand over his head gently as you realized he was distracting him for your ease.

Moving quickly with your own work, Jon leaned in to further keep the babys attention. “We both love you, but stop making things difficult on your mother. She does that enough by herself.” You didn't look up to notice if Jon spotted your barley hidden smirk, but he let himself have a much brighter one, only growing tenfold as he caught his sons gaze again. Leaning forward more to press a gentle kiss to the top of his head, it gave you just the right amount of time to capture the babys waving arms to finally keep him nice and warm as you wrapped the fur once yours around him properly as his usual final bundling layer.

“Thank you.” Jon, only moved to then close the gap between his lips and yours. Cupping the back of your neck with but a firm kiss together, hardly getting anywhere as suddenly a sound almost like a protest came from the baby. If such a small, so very young newborn could frown just like Jon, the baby was managing it. “Come here, silly boy.”

Picking the bundle up, you kept him close to your front as Jon helped you stand. Muttering lowly with his free hand running along the where his back would be if not hidden by so many layers. “He's fighting me for your attention, I'm telling you.”

Rolling your eyes jestingly, you only gazed back up at him with something softer then the days before. Bright was his eyes but so were yours, somewhat asking for something you weren't sure of yet, but Jon was a translator of your needs. Leaning in again to nudge your nose with his as you whispered, “And whose fault would that be? His rather shy mother, or his possessive wolf father.”

The hand on your back slid down to your waist, sneaking under the cloak to pinch at you as you nearly jumped close in his arms as a startle. Adjusting the grip to then pull you closer, he pressed a kiss to the top of the babys head and then grasped your chin, guiding you to meet his once more. And just as it seemed Jon was testing him, as once again little Eddard made a sound as if wanting him to stop. “You need to share her sometimes. I have to put another baby inside her eventually, give you your sister.”

Flustered and wide eyed you looked around. “Jon.” Laughing lightly he pointed out no one was listening when you nodded down to the baby. “He does not need to know these things.”

“He can't understand that yet. We have years before he learns how that all works. Well over a decade if we're going by your standards.” Your mouth fell open, walking directly into the trap he set out as you called his name. The laugh instantly from deep within gave away how easily Jon would set you up for such a reaction.

Moving back towards the main group, Jon clarified, “You sure you're alright with me carrying him in the afternoon?”

Nodding, you had become quite used to the baby being wrapped up and strapped safe to your front, but you also knew two things, you truly wanted to see Jon holding his son as much as possible with your own eyes, and never would you want to carry him alone and never give father and son time together alone. “I'll likely have to feed him twice, you should have him after since he won't be as fussy if he doesn't need to be passed back and forth.”

The area you all had stopped by was for all other aspects, quite calm. The forest pushed right up to the edge of the cliff side. Not tall as the mountains of months before, but enough one with a fear of heights would be woozy next too. The lands moving up an incline from the rooting river paths stemming off of the gorge. A few miles up ahead according to Jon and Benjen both was where the river ended, pooling into a lake just beside the edge of a village.

You remembered most of this area, the villages Jon had led you through the first days into this journey months ago, you had went through a good number of villages that had been abandoned by even the first time Jon had passed through them. It was almost a little bit comforting, no longer feeling entirely reliant on the path of others, you knew it was essentially a straight shot from here to Castle Black. Around an hour if you continue directly forward through the remainder of the forest.

The only reason you had stopped, was to go over the plans of what would happen when getting there right away. Likely it should not have surprised you when Benjen was the first to put forward that regardless of what has occurred out here, for the babys health and yours, Jon should push forward and make the final stretch to Winterfell, and get you to properly be seen by a maester who would be more familiar with complicated childbirth and early born infants then Maester Aemon.

Still only Jon had been the singular one there who knew, and he forced that feeling to be shoved right back down his throat as soon as it came up. But it was for more reason then one, and it was the second he shared with his uncle. “I don't know whose there now, Maester Aemon..he passed.”

Both elder Starks knew the man well in their own ways, and Jon appreciated someone else who would understand even a little bit of the feeling. Brows narrowing on his face, Benjen spoke with a calm but a weight behind that told of much respect. “When was this?”

Trying to consider what Sam had told him when they reunited, the information much more detailed then when it was from a raven passing such information on. “I sent him with Sam, a brother who worked with him, to Oldtown. They stopped at a port in Bravvos and, he was too ill to survive the journey. I don't know who is there now.”

Nodding, Benjen much like Jon kept whatever thoughts he had to himself over the matter. Sticking much to the main facts in front of them. “Well, either way getting them home is more important right now. I imagine a few will be surprised to see me, I'll stay back and catch them all up on certain things and meet you in Winterfell later.”

The knowing look between them rather similar, “Would be easier to explain certain things to everyone the more people they hear it from, likely.”

Walking along closer to the ridge by the rushing river below, it took some getting used to out here when the baby wasn't being carried by you in anyway. To your left sat a thick brush of trees hardly able to be seen through, least of all at the corner of your vision. Eyes trained into the sight across the way, squinting in the colder wind as you begun to kneel down.

Pulling the cloak off, you hauled it in front of you. Using the quiet to simply adjust the pin keeping it open to something a looser now that you'd be taking the baby back to push the final way. You would blame it on one thing or another, but you knew in truth, you had simply let your guard down. But from the dark trees beyond did something you did not expect to be so close creep forward. Neither did you look down to see either what had been climbing its way up, almost in stealth.

As if you were the target much as you had been that day in the Nightfort. Two people in the room and three went for you. With two direwolves up ahead scouting any danger in front, it was what came following behind which was to watch for. This time, there were six of you, but they went for you just the same.

It reached up from where none knew it was there. Only the sound of gravel and small rocks shifting by, you put the cloak down in a moment of curiosity. Cold and strong, it reached from beyond. Surging up with an inhuman sound, grabbing you one hand yanking at your hair and the other to your wrist before both pulled before you could stop it.

Whoever called out to you was heard none as the sudden sounds so close on you took over, your bare hands clawing at the sides of the rocks. Skin tearing in a bloodying pain as you tried to hold on while also trying to knock the wight from your back, but the hand in your hair slammed yours against the same wall.

The thing was, you could not pick up the sounds of those above, only what too followed. One at the rivers edge climbing with a weapon in its mouth, another stalking along the edge coming from the dark trees beyond. The dagger strapped to your ankle was useless as trapped as it had you.

The moment it happened though, who did what was too, the unexpected. A matter of who was closest, it happened to be in fact the one who understood the least about it all. If one had asked why she moved so fast, Yara at the moment wouldn't have had an answer, she just did. Knocking her to the ground from the side, she had but a single moment to recall needing the dagger Jon had given to her.

The wight snatching one wrist, and the other being pushed back by her with a strain fighting against what looked like an intent to claw her eyes out. Thrusting her head up she tried only managed to push it back before finding herself covered in a blood black and thick as she shoved the blade into the neck of the growling creature. Tossing it with a strain to down below only to find herself in the yanking grasp of one coming for you, now with a new target. You were far lower being dragged either down to the one ascending or taken by the one you couldn't even hear the chaos above against.

Sounds overwhelming in your ear did you try to throw your head back to force it off but its grip was tight and already did you feel it tearing into your skin where it had held you. Suddenly being nearly thrown back, you found yourself being snatched by a hand against your more blood covered arm by Yara, too holding on herself. It only fell as back down as somewhat below, yanking you with its grip the moment Yara tried pulling you up.

Jon only just having given the baby to Bran, did he narrowly miss grasping Yaras hand as her grip nearly lost. But in his desperation as the fear arose did he look passed her to the one clawing its way back up to you and another heading for neither him nor Yara but you as well, and you knew it. Strain meeting his gaze with your muscles shaking in pain, only seconds did you three have to come up with a plan.

Only, you felt one of its hands trying to tear at your leg, digging into your knee and reopening the healing wound from the last they had come in a cry in pain. Looking up to Yara, her own hold on you as strained as the one she and Jon struggled to keep. Jon sensed it, knowing exactly what you were about to do. Nearly growling your name out not to, but your faced again twisted as you felt as if your knee was being torn to shreds by its nails sharp as claws clutching on.

“Get him to the Wall,” He tried warning you in name but you shouted more. “Jon, get him to the Wall- please.”

But as Jon you knew saw the panic, you for only a second too found Yaras gaze. Instead though, her grip on you tightened as she gave but a nod. You did not grasp why she wasn't saving herself, but you didn't question it. Jons voice calling to your once more, “I'm not-”

“Yes, you are.” You didn't have the time to assure him, either they got you and it would all be over now, or they all stayed here as more could gather. This could have even been a trap, and Jon knew as well as you did what would happen should they come with the baby out in the open. Three grips let go, yours of what remained clawing at the rocks against your front, Yaras purposely letting go of Jons and him failing to catch hers once she let it go, but with a yell of your name as if faded.

The only grip that did not let go, was hers to yours as without any further doubt did the sudden fall get crash landed roughly with the sting all around of frozen water. Filling your sense as you knew not which way in the running river did you even land.

What was up and down you didn't know only that you found your self free to kick against the wight still ahold of you. Air leaving your lungs as you felt it tear at your skin one last time as it flew as disoriented in the rushing water as you were. Either they would kill you, kill Yara, or more would come and try to kill the others, Jon and even worse, the cold wind may come and take the baby too.

Letting go into the freezing river was a risk, but one which meant certain it gave the others time to go, get to the Wall, get to safety, and that was what mattered. Not the filling of cold in your lungs as the violence of water gave no mercy to those within its stream.

“I'm not leaving her out here,”

Jon could not ascertain if the others were rather calm for what had occurred, or if his senses were burning to such an angering degree that anything lower then the shaking in his very veins had felt like too little of a reaction. Benjen failing to bring him down any level, his words only making Jon feel even worse the longer he stood here. “Jon, listen to me. No one is leaving her behind, but we need to go before more may make their way here.” Not bothering to listen Jon gathering his weapons to him without second thought, Benjen continuing to talk to a wall. “She is giving us a head start, to protect the baby.”

Not looking up, Jon continued to move, strapping Longclaw firmly around him as he nearly growled out against his heart racing. “Then get him to Castle Black, but I'm not leaving her out here.”

Bran was silent as Meera tried her hand next. “You're his father he needs you.”

“And he needs his mother.” And Jon in his heart added that he needed you too. Son and father both needed you and Jon could not fathom getting to Castle Black without you, not knowing if you were alright to even make it back. He didn't leave you behind once he wasn't starting now.

“She's giving you a chance to get your son somewhere safe.” Turning to look at him, being held still by Bran, it was the only thing which gave Jon reason to pause. Closing the gap, Jon knelt down to take Eddard for a moment. Wide green eyes looking up so brightly as if he didn't know his mother was gone all over again, but too in those eyes did Jon see yours.

It wasn't doubt or defeat, but something begging for him to trust you. You had worried so long that you had lost his trust, and now before letting yourself fall into the freezing river to keep the Wights away from them all, he felt a wave of guilt. Eyes closing he stood now carrying the baby free in his arms, he too had promised his son they'd keep you safe. But you were too keeping them safe.

Meeting Brans eyes, he too was asking something with such similar worry as it was trust. “I'll go.” Quietly calling his name, Bran shook his head. “Summer is out there with Ghost. I can go out there, and we'll find her and get her back here. Uncle Benjen and I are his family, but you're his father. He needs you the most.”

Jon disagreed, he and his son needed you the most. But looking at his sons bright eyes, he did not return his grasp. Pulling him close to keep him warm at his front, Jon kept him close enough he could always feel even his breath against his skin for now.

Why did trusting you always have to test the weakest part of Jons need to have you close?

You could say one thing, coughing up water was far less unpleasant then whatever sick would come up at the peak of being with child. Stinging your lungs and as your torn knee sat rough against the rocks, the rest of you braced against the ground as you had pulled yourself up from the shores. Luckily, Yara was no better feet away.

Breath shaking as you looked up, the hint of a village long emptied of people in the distance, and the lake behind you from which the river deposited you, you were right in where it led. Begging your limbs to function, trying to stand only to hiss out as the material against your legs tore at the bleeding skin scratched right open as the wight tried to bring you down to him and his other kind. One foot braced up first, then another, you took far longer then you should've finding your stance upright.

“Where are we?” Head turning to the side, Yara had dragged herself up with less effort, as she walked over to you. Both of you now freezing as you were soaked head to toe.

Looking around, your legs shook trying to withhold buckling from one knee's pain. “One of the villages the Free Folk used to live in.” Asking with a shortness what that was, you inhaled mostly to not react with the same tone only because the past moments were too much for your patience. “The wildlings. Some used to live here, it's only a few hours from Castle Black.”

Coming to your side, her eyes looked over your person as you continued to ignore the pain. “How did you know this was where the river led?”

Glancing only for a beat, you turned back with another hiss the moment you attempted to move. “I've looked at a map before.” Not bothering to witness the glare, you took a step as the pain shooting through your calf up to your knee was as if it would rupture the wrong step. Asking how your leg was, a diminished patience had come out that time with less resolve to keep yourself proper. “Better then ever, Greyjoy.”

The feeling of an arm coming to your side had you side stepping from her as you knelt to one side a bit as your knee screamed at you. Asking what she was doing, it was her turn to look at you if you were the slow one. “Helping you walk, since you can't even stand.”

The glare returned as pretty as before. “What does it look like I'm doing?”

Cocking an eyebrow, the audacity to smirk looking you over once again came over Yara as did a smug tone you had not felt for over a decade. “You look like you're going to fall over the moment you walk six steps.”

You did not move to prove her wrong, and her smirk increased. Cursed you were, looking up to the clouds hiding any sun with your eyes fluttering closed. You were cursed to endure the Greyjoys in every capacity which tested your willingness to cooperate as raised to be. Muttering under your breath, knowing she could hear your eyes narrowed at the nothing you looked at. “I thank you for your help back there, but I can't say I see great appeal in relying on you to walk south east over the course of multiple hours.”

One limb, then another, Yara's speed matched with more of such attitude you despised. “Yes, you're doing so well.” Praise sounded horrid coming from her condescension then it did Jons genuity. In the silence did you bite down on your tongue as the pain grew more as did your shivering, but you walked beside her not willing to see the expression. Her words spoke that for you. “You and him are made for each other, both the most ungrateful cunts I've ever met.”

A burning rose in your veins to lash out, but resisting was what you had to do. You would not yet put it passed Yara to respond to a petty jab by kicking your knee in and leaving you here. Stopping in place you looked over to her, the shivering both still within your bones did not help, but trust did not come easy towards her family. Only one, and you had yet to wonder if she even knew of his fate once being abandoned to the Boltons. But, it was not the time for that either.

Jaw clenched roughly, you nodded as Yara wrapped an arm steady around you, leaning into her side as she could now do the heavier lifting for you each step. “Thank you.”

Yara made it rather easy to regret offering any polite words, raising her voice up to something far beyond a jest into a mocking you knew she could feel you tense towards. “At least you have more manners then your husband. And I thought giving you to Euron would mean you'd be married to an insufferable ass.”

That was meant to rile you up, and it would not be the last to be spat towards you nor the only time you'd withhold any words in return, but for the first little while, you limped and she walked in relative, teeth chattering silence.

Not a weapon left on either of you, you wondered if Yara was aware of the danger quite yet. Whatever she had seen before that evening was fraught compared to what was out here. Jon always ensured to stop before it grew dark, even with the shared weapons both of you could wield. Now was not the same assurance, somewhere no doubt the dragonglass on you both sunk to the bottom of the river, not a bow, nor knife only two women one unable to stand with ease on their own.

“Neither of you are particularly chatty, are you?” Yara read your silence at the bare minimum. Not waiting for a reply, in Greyjoy standards, she could talk to herself at you as long as it entertained her.

Most of any words spoken were short in reply, and if you were to be honest, your dwindling patience was growing more and more within the realm of spiteful irritation that she either did not grasp why you would not have interest in talking to her, or knew and did not care. But it was not your newest injuries alone which were the source of your pain.

No, such a reminder came in the general state you had existed in now for nearly seven days and the hands in which helped such problems fester. The woman nearly dragging you across the snow covered forest had not a clue what had brought you out here in the first place. Not any knowledge of what it took to get there, and what risk it was gaining the information Jon now had to make sense with the rest of it.

You had come out here for the only place left giving you answers, but still the world proved it was far more preoccupied with whatever games for power the people played amongst themselves. Yet worst of all, she and her men, orders or no, had ripped the only happiness you had found in this frozen land and never for a moment since had that peace and happiness come back to you as it should've.

Every now and again, you had caught yourself nearly turning to look at her from the side with nothing near a pleasant expression. “What?” Quiet sat heavy between you before she tried again, only louder. “You have something to say, then say it.”

Strong urges within you begged, implored to keep it to yourself. To not say it, but yet you did. It came out as if you were a child without a filter, either in words spoken aloud or even in an attitude any could detect. “It's strange is all, what you consider worthy of your loyalty.” Demanding what that was supposed to mean, you wished to hold it back.

But you knew better. You knew many truths now, and some did not connect as well as others, all of which did not feel good at any stage. “You're helping me now, but you came out here at Euron's orders to kill Jon and kidnap myself. I can't help but wonder why your own blood saw none of that even attempted towards him when he needed it most.”

Yara was quiet, and not with any reason you knew for. But her voice was a distant mutter, as if a fear existed that if heard in the air someplace other then her mind then she may have to deal with the consequences of it. But if no other hint was to be given, yourself and Yara knew too well who you were thinking of. “And you know more about it?” Humming in your throat, an edge sharpened along her own. “I doubt that. Those Boltons mutilated my brother, sent what they cut from him to us in a box.”

The pain in your body radiated into your heart, a pain long wished to see him move past. The way Theon sat outside the tub your own desecrated body was soaking in, the way neither of you could look as he spoke of it all. The taunts, forcing you into a nightmare of the making from the deepest of the seven hells and yet how Ramsay would look up, and mock him. Call him a name to strip him of his life and mock for what he could not force him to participate in.

She did not take your doubtful ire well, grip around you tightening inadvertently as she herself was working herself up more into something you knew she had no true grounds to stand on. “I tried to help him, what have you ever done for him? Have your precious King in the North kill the Boltons for him? Make him stay on and serve the same family who kept him hostage-”

Teeth gritting, your muscles begged to heal in an instant to turn on her for what she had no right to claim. “You wouldn't-” Heart floating in your chest as if dropped from a mountains edge, your eyes widened as your mouth parted slightly before turning to the side with your face twisting into a true mistrust. “What do you mean you tried to help him? By leaving him in the North while you sat in your home on Pyke?”

Whatever guilt she felt, you had suddenly wished she would drown in it. The manner in which she struggled to let any of it out before telling you what she had done, after receiving a mutilated piece of Theon from Ramsay. You held very little memory of it, perhaps the vague recollection of the bells tolling but muffled under a deeply disturbed hallucination through ill and fever. You had seen none of the Dreadfort beyond the courtyard and the halls in and out of the dungeon you existed in for months.

Yara explained that they had been taken to where Theon was, and what happened in that room. Only, the story ended the only manner which was possible. Theon was still there, and dragged to Winterfell with you eventually to which somehow, it only got worse as the torment was now shared as a joy for Ramsay to enact on both of you together.

Hounds. It was those bloody hounds that sent her away. And before you had thought of any words, nothing but disgust erupted inside of your system until it seethed in your eyes. Stopping in place, she almost stumbled noticing you had not continued with her. But as she tried to defend herself, she only dug herself a grave. “I did everything I could.” Turning to face you head on, you had not even blinked as she tried again, almost pleading for you to listen. “I tried to get him to come, he refused to listen to me.” Your eyes did not move nor did you breathe you were certain, nothing could even twitch unless it came out before you could contain what you could not finish. “It was my men against those hounds.”

Jaw twitching in her, but something devastated shared the space occupying your rage. You never knew this. She had come for him, but she left. Without him. And her final plea was her last as she tried to turn, imploring you to walk and finding an immovable force within your stance. “Theon wouldn't come with me, I couldn't risk losing my men and my life if he refused to come home. It isn't my fault.”

Unbeknownst to you however, your words were a repeat of her own history. Turning your body to face her she spun around the moment they passed your lips. “He's your brother.” The shame was growing and you only added onto it as she pleaded she had no other choice. “Theon is your brother, as he is mine and you left him to die.”

In her own mind, Yara felt a bit stunned. You looked at her with the same vitriol she had looked to her own father with. Yet she now was the one making the excuses he did for why they should leave Theon to die. Stammering a bit, she couldn't make eye contact as she attempted any way to pull herself from the grave she knew she had just flung herself into. “I would've died trying to get him out, I had to leave.”

Cutting right though it, the truth was harsh for her to hear and you said it with every intention for it to hurt inside. “Theon and I were both prisoners to them. And when we were dragged to Winterfell, Ramsay Bolton only begun to torture us together in brand new ways. I wanted to die. I was ready. I wouldn't have made it any longer before killing myself if it weren't for him.”

Would you have lived through the night had Theon not made a plan to get you out? You didn't even know if you could hold out until the sun rose with them any longer. And you told her why you did. Helping you escape, running from his men and those hounds. “He refused to leave me. I was a dead weight to him trying to escape and he never let me slow down until we found anything even resembling safety. He had the perfect chance to leave alone and start new, but he didn't leave me behind even though some days I still wonder if he should have.”

You didn't care the look on her face, what it meant or said. Shock or guilt, it didn't matter. She left him behind to die, and so Theon refused to do it for you. Her whisper was seeking a way to pick at your story but with no ability to meet your unblinking gaze, too intense for her to hold steadily. “If he was free then, why did he never come home?”

It hurt to hear, what you said. And for once, you were glad to be the one to deliver such sharp wounds to another. “Because he has a place here. He belongs in Winterfell. He's the closest thing to a true brother I have, and never for a moment did I let the things he did before effect how he was treated after. If he had a chance to go back to Pyke, then he never took it. But not because anyone was holding him back from it. He stayed because he's as much a Greyjoy as he is a Stark.”

Yara was his blood, but not his family. Such things were not the same. The Starks gave you family when yours never wanted to be one in whole. And it was the thing which kept the only family you thought you had left together, between you and Theon. You left knowing he was angry with you, because you did not want to tell him you may never come back. You didn't want him to think he had to watch you leave to what could be death. Because you didn't want to stand there after everything and hurt him more then he had getting there.

But abandoning him to his death? To save your own life? That was not the kind of man Eddard Stark raised Theon to be, unlike whatever Balon Greyjoy raised Yara to be now. She may have helped save you here, but she also almost took you away from Jon and your son. She knew nothing about truly protecting the ones you love.

Limping passed her, you did not withhold how your shoulder bumped roughly into hers. Each step producing an even worse wince when she turned to try and follow with a shout. “Are you just going to limp to the Wall, is that it? Lecture me and leave?”

Only a dry yell back you did not stop your slow but continuing pace to the ones you loved. “I know the path. I'll make it one way or another.” Yara begun to follow, raising her voice to you about just leaving her there and you shouted back only a little less dry and a tinge more tense. “Your feet work, follow me then. Or don't.”

Sometimes it surprised you, how quickly it was let out. Not often did it happen, but just when the right combination of things presented itself, did everything your father raise you to be go right out of the window. And in it's place the yell and the furious anger of a Baratheon just as Robert could take it's place, the second Yara grabbed your shoulder to make you stop. Turning in place you leaned more up to her face, as she clearly held no issue either with yelling. “You save my life once and suddenly it forgives trying to force me into a monsters hands, coming out here to kill the man I love, separate him and our son from me? Give me one reason why saving my life one single time means I shouldn't shove you right back into those waters and leave you to freeze in them.”

Her voice yelled right back as the sun went down around your spat. “You going to be the one to tell Theon you left his sister to die?” You came right back that you left him to die, her face twisting further into anger as yours narrowed in a seething despite the shouting from your burning lungs. “I did what I thought I had to do for my family-”

Were your body not weak and in pain, your shaking muscles may have been effective in anything other then making you feel dizzy as the pain in your head increased. “You have no clue what family truly means.”

“Keep interrupting me, Baratheon and I'll-”

Leaning in your yell dropped sudden as a waters drop. Down to a hissing in her face that she could even think to defend what she'd done. “You will what? Hit me? Kill me?” Holding your arms out, you took a painful step back. “Go right ahead, Greyjoy. Kill me and see who is left to side with you then. Get to the Wall and explain to Jon how you got angry and left the mother of his child to die. Go to Winterfell and defend it to Theon, see how much he appreciates what you do to protect your family.”

So little did fury flow through you but you would not bend for her. She was taller, stronger, and scarier but you had faced death and far worse then death. Whatever she could do was nothing compared to what blood had already been spilt in your nightmares.

The growling though? That came not from you nor her, and yet it increased suddenly until something snatched at Yaras clothes and yanked her back enough to throw her on the snowy ground. Splayed out did Ghost appear in front of you vicious and snarling as the equally as large and darker furred Summer get in her face as all anger in her bled away to fear.

Your senses returning from burning red as you had to shake yourself into the present, “Summer, stop-” Growling more did the direwolf lean into her face before turning on a dime to look at you. Stare unblinking and stern, but in comparison to Ghosts, you recognized the human in his eyes. Ghost was as he always was as a protector alone, but what you had learned to see in him was now seen in Summer. Limping forward a bit, your hand braced against Ghosts fur, easing up beside you you knelt down in a wince as the other came up to you.

Head tilting back as something amazed painted over you just as it had when you saw such a feat right on Jons face doing it, but now in the opposite manner. “Bran?” The wolf's head nodded, and you almost laughed. Whispering as you reached up to run your hand gently over his fur, “I suppose I shouldn't be surprised with you Starks. Is everyone alright?” A single nod as your heart nearly deflated in relief.

On the ground behind still you heard Yara with a shout, “What the fuck is going on with any of you people?” Ghost leaned closer to your pained figure as you looked over Bran in Summer's eyes.

He glanced up to the sky as did you to follow, the sun had little time left. Without looking to her, you shouted back only without the anger this time as your hand ran gently over Ghost beside you, comfort returning in some capacity to your heart. “We need to leave. We shouldn't be out here alone when the sun goes down.”

Forcing herself up, you could see from the top of your vision how much she did in the moment, remind you of Theon. Her high strung exasperated state in frustration muttering, “I hate this place.”

Eyes finding Ghosts, the direwolf's mind his own and yet it was just as warm as if Jon were beside you. One in the same they were, and even if Jon couldn't come for you as he wished, needing to protect the baby, Ghost was just as good, and just as something reminding you of home.

A few hours to the Wall, only a few hours. But you had to leave now, pain or no through your person, once the sun goes down, the white winds could come at anytime and there was no place to hide from them this far south here.

As four figures approached the Wall, the sound Jon once thought would be comforting to hear was only a reminder of what he still didn't have with him. Meera having switched places again to take over pulling the sledge carrying Bran. Benjen beside Jon now, his hand coming up to rest comfortingly on Jons shoulder not where little Eddard was being held while he rested, his uncle's words low. “She'll get here, Jon. He'll make sure of it.”

Looking to his brother, Jon finally realized what it looked like. Brans eyes a pure white, he had to trust that he and Ghost together could find you and get you back. In only two hours would the sky turn dark, and he feared what it would take to get you back once what comes in the night, comes crawling out looking for eyes to turn blue forever.

Looking down to the baby, Jon shushed him gently as he made a small cry at the volume of the horn, “We're almost home, I promise. We just need to get her back.” He trusted you and he trusted Bran, but his heart couldn't take being apart from you much longer. Desperately, he tried to hold back the sting in his eyes at how horribly the world kept tearing you apart from him, and now your son together.

The gate to Castle Black finally begun to open, but Jon felt sick at the thought of walking through it.

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