#arya is like “uh I knew him first back off”

[bisexualmultifandommess]

My favourite kind of Gendrya fic is either a reunion or post-reunion fic or a relationship reveal fic of any kind where Gendry and Arya obviously seem to know each other and Jon is just stood there watching them like:

[mortuarywriting]

Wip Wednesday! Despite my saying otherwise I did, in fact, work on the self indulgent bit.

Lets start with nothing most anyone here would care about but! Prompts are Dancing (bonus points from partners if I make it slow dancing) and possibly Flow. Not sold yet on if it's a one or two.

In fairness, even he hadn't expected himself to pick up or even take mildly well to Dancing. He'd far more considered himself a bit more on the brutal side, efficient and sure but more focused on getting the job done than fluidity. Nashmeira had apparently seen something in him, though, and he'd taken the soul of the dancer- well. In stride, really. Ranaa was easy to dance with, all eager to prove herself and their mentor's choice in placing her in the troupe. It was easy to balance her, get her to ease up and mellow back out. That? That was different than this, though. Not like he can ask Nashmeira, last he'd heard she was last seen talking with X'rhun and neither Amasar, Arya, nor Nijoh'ir knew where he'd wandered off to.

and now the promised self-indulgence.

You press the heels of your hands to your eyes as you grumble, "fffffine. Fine, fine. You know if you're hungry we've only got breakfast food for tomorrow. I just ran out of snackies-" "Not the snackies. The 'umanity," Simon states dryly, eyes glinting with humor. His quip is answered with a swift bird in retaliation as you otherwise ignore his comment, "and I'll be making english muffin bread after dinner. Will y'all need me to grab anything to drink with dinner? We've got," you trail off, mentally taking a tally, before pointing, "and this is just what's in the fridge- water, milk, coke, sweetea-" "Sweetea," Johnny can't stop himself from mumbling while shooting a look at Kyle. The latter shrugged, "American south thing. Not for everyone." A hum of assent from the doorway, "yeah y'all'll probably hate it. What else uh, lemonade, whatever is in the beer fridge, aaaaand I think we have some irn-bru. Need water refills yet?" The question was met with a chorus of "we can get it ourselves," "No, we're fine please don't worry," and "we're adults we can-" in response. Your eyes crinkle in fondness and you coo, "aww, you're all sweet. None of you were told about the post-mission decompression steps, were you." Ghost grunted, mid-swig of water at the point, "no, dinner discussion happened first." "Ah! Right! That'd do it," you clap your hands together, "there's a routine whenever he gets back here. Compartmentalize whatever needs it, drink at least a cup and a half of water but two is better, shower, dinner, and then the bedtime contingencies are gone through."

Thats what I got.

[hoperenae]

Turning Heads (a Haikyuu fanfic by hoperenae)

PREVIOUS — SERIES MASTERLIST — NEXT

PART 18- Boys

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, I met the first-year VBC boys at Kageyama’s house. He and Hinata were hopeless when it came to English, and Yamaguchi’s math skills could use some work, so Tsukki and I agreed to help them study (although saying Tsukki agreed was a bit of an exaggeration; he was coerced).

Kageyama’s mom directed me to his bedroom, and when I opened the door, I wish I could say I was surprised by what I saw. Hinata, Kageyama, and Yamaguchi were crowded around a computer watching a volleyball video, and Tsukki was sitting on the floor propped up against the bed, headphones on and ignoring the rest of the world.

“You guys were supposed to start the practice tests before I got here,” I sighed, closing the door behind me and shaking my head. They all jumped when I spoke, and Kageyama quickly closed the internet tab and wheeled around in his desk chair, like he had just been caught watching inappropriate videos.

“We were just about to start,” Yamaguchi stammered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m sure you were,” I chuckled. Even after the long day I’d had, these boys always knew how to make me feel better.

“Tsukki,” I said, tapping him on the shoulder. He looked up from his phone, finally seeming to notice my presence, and took his headphones off.

“What?” he grumbled.

“You were supposed to get them started on the practice tests so I could go over what they got wrong.”

Tsukki shrugged. “What’s the point? It’s not like they’re gonna become geniuses overnight.”

“We don’t need geniuses, just passing grades.”

“Even that will be a miracle. Those two,” he pointed at Hinata and Kageyama, “don’t have any space left in their shared brain cell for anything but volleyball.”

I frowned. “Unfortunately for us, if they fail their tests, they can’t play volleyball. And we need these weirdos. So suck it up and help me help them.”

Tsukki frowned and mumbled something under his breath, but then he reached into his backpack and pulled out a textbook and the practice tests. He worked with Hinata and Kageyama on English grammar while I went over some math problems with Yamaguchi. After a couple of hours, the boys looked thoroughly brain-dead, so we decided to call it a night.

“I’ll walk you home, Arya-san,” Hinata beamed as we walked out the front door. He grabbed his bicycle from the front lawn.

“But you rode your bike,” I plainly stated. “Besides, you don’t live anywhere near me.”

Hinata smiled softly. “You can’t walk home alone in the dark.”

“Fine,” I conceded with a smile.

As we walked, my mind kept drifting back to my time with Toruu earlier that day. I wasn’t usually one to hate people, but I hated his fangirls. Or rather, I hated the person he turned into around them. Was I really okay with being second place forever? I mean, I had the rest of my life to date around; why should I put so much effort into something if it didn’t make me happy?

“Don’t you think so, Arya-san?” Hinata was looking right at me, and I realized I hadn’t been listening to a word he was saying.

“Oh, uh, sorry, Hinata. I wasn’t paying attention.” I fidgeted with the strap on my bookbag.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied, cursing the slight shake in my voice.

“Is it about the Great King?”

I stopped dead in my tracks, and after noticing my abrupt halt, so did Hinata. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes, but I blinked them back and swallowed the lump in my throat.

“When I first joined the volleyball club, I felt like the odd one out. Like everywhere we went, every practice match, everyone was judging me, secretly saying that there was no way a girl could play on par with the boys. But the harder I practiced, the more I proved myself, and the more I began to feel…special. Like who I am is not a burden; it’s my superpower.” I paused, my breath becoming steadier the more I voiced my thoughts. “You volleyball boys always make me feel like the most important person in the room. I guess…I guess I’ve never felt that way with Oikawa. I’ve never felt special around him.”

When I noticed Hinata’s blank stare, I blushed and tucked my hair behind my ear. “Sorry, that was kind of deep and personal. Just forget I said anything.” I glanced away from him and down at my shoes. I almost started walking again when the orange-haired boy spoke.

“When Kageyama and I do our quick, I feel unstoppable. I feel like we have something that no one else has. Something…special.” He paused, and I made eye contact with him as he smiled brightly at me. “You deserve to feel special all the time, Arya-san.”

My tears dried up and the solemn expression on my face disappeared, the corners of my mouth turning up into a grin.

Message me or comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

[nephilim-problems]

Can't Keep a Secret pt. 2

Part 1

Taglist

@mac99martin @chloeinlondon2021 @staradorned

Tw: graphic depictions of violence, general criminal minds grossness

Parings: Aaron Hotchner x reader

The central city police gracefully gave us a small office with a few empty deals by us. Luckily no one was even close to ear shot. 

"You've done very well with this team and as you know your 4 year evaluation is coming up," Hotch said, keeping his eyes on me. 

"I'm pretty sure you didn't bring me out here to tell me about my evaluation," I replied, rolling my eyes at him. 

"I need you at the top of your game. I need you to stay professional," he said, putting emphasis on the word professional. 

"I am staying professional," I snapped and crossed my arms. "Is this about me hugging Joe and Barry? 'Cause they're just really close friends." 

"I just think you might be going to meet Barry for other reasons," Hotch replied and I could swear he sounded like he was jealous. 

There's no way. He's my boss he would never. 

"Hotch, trust me," I looked around and when I was sure no one was looking at us, I grabbed his hand and looked up at him. "Barry is a useful resource and I think I can get him to get the officers on board." 

It was the first time I tried to flirt with him and I have no idea what made me do it. I just did it without thinking. But he wasn't pulling away though he was tense under the touch. He was looking down at me but not with any anger or hate but something else and I couldn't figure out what it was. 

The moment was cut short when Emily opened the door. I quickly removed my hand from his and mumbled a good-bye to him before running up the stairs to Barry's office. He was standing by his desk like he always did. 

"So what does the flash have on this?" I asked and leaned back against a desk across from him. 

"Nothing," Barry replied. "I'm not really good at catching killers like this." 

"So nothing from Cisco or Caity?" I asked fiddling with random crap on the desk. 

"They don't have anything either," he replied. 

"What about forensics?" I replied it was worth a shot even if he talked to Morgan already. "Anything weird like metahuman weird?" 

"No, it's definitely not a metahuman but," Barry sped off and grabbed a thing of papers and very quickly flipped through some pages before quickly stopping in front of me making my hair flip around. "They found these fibers around her mouth, the same fibers were found on her wrist.”

“So he gagged her and bound her wrists together,” I shrugged at him. “That’s not weird a lot of sickos do that.”

“That’s the thing the same fibers were found in her lungs and her,” Barry flushed for a minute awkwardly. “And- uh- hey were in her genitals.” 

“Now that is weird,” I said, shaking the paper. “I knew you wouldn’t fail me Bares.” 

“I-I-Uh-I’m sorry. About the divorcce and Savitar,” Barry paused and looked at me. A long time ago I would've given anything to see this look again. 

“Barry it’s fine, it was a long time ago,” I paused and licked my lips nervously. “We’ve both moved on, you’re engaged to Iris and I’m so happy for you. You’ve found the person made just for you.”

“I see how you look at him,” Barry said smiling. “Derek said his name was Hotch or something."

"I don't look at my boss any sort of way," I snapped. 

"Yes you do," Barry smiled. "You-you don't have to be a profiler to see it. He looks at you the same way." 

"Oh and I'm so sure you've seen it you met him for the first time today," I rolled my eyes at him. 

"I know because he looks at you the way I used to," Barry smiled and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. 

"Thanks Barry," I smiled and walked towards the door and stopped. "You know, Barry Iris asked if I'd be her maid of honor at your wedding." 

"What did you say?" Barry asked. 

"I said yes. I love you guys and I want you to be happy Barry," I smiled and tapped the door frame. "I meant what I said. I don't care if it's with me or if it's with Iris but I want you to be happy." 

"I love you Arya," Barry said and it took me back a little. I hadn't heard my real name for years. 

"I love you too Bares," I smiled back. "But I have to show this to the team. It can change some things. Also keep the flash line open, we might need him." 

With those words I left and handed Morgan the file.

"Barry gave us this, it's a little weird so I figured it could help," I said walking into the office. 

"What did Hotch say sweetheart?" Morgan asked once he noticed Hotch wasn't in the room. 

"He just told me I need to remain professional," I said, rolling my eyes. 

"Oooh Hotch is jealous," Morgan laughed. 

" Hotch is absolutely not jealous," I said a little too sternly. " Our relationship is strictly professional." 

" Right, and you looking at him with old puppy dog eyes is being professional Right?" Emily laughed. 

" Regardless of how I feel, Hotch would never date an employee," I said, crossing my arms. " Can we get back to the case please?"

"Reid, anything on the geographical profile?" Emily asked as Reid ignored her. "Reid?" 

Reid still didn't reply and just kept staring at his board. 

"Any ideas?" I asked and everyone shook their heads. "Well we have 38 hours to find this girl. Where's Hotch?" 

" He went to talk to captain Singh," Morgan replied. 

Before anyone could say a word J.J bolted into the room, " the killer didn't wait. There's another body." 

"Fuck," Morgan shouted and pushed a chair. 

"Let's go, we need to catch this guy soon," I snapped and followed J.J out the door. " Is Hotch already there?" 

"Yeah, so is Detective West and Captain Singh," J.J replied. 

I checked back and saw the entire team including Reid and Rossi following close behind us. Well all piled ourselves into one vehicle but for once J.J drove instead of Morgan. 

It was a silent car ride. No one wanted to talk about it but we all blamed ourselves. We always do when something like this happens. It's the what ifs that kill your mind. What if I was faster or Smarter? It eats at you. It had only been a few hours but it still bothered us. Things weren't much better at the crime scene. Joe was taking this especially personal; this was his city after all and it wasn't often someone could stump both him and Barry at the same time. 

"How long ago was she found?" Morgan asked as we made our way out of the suv and towards the body except me. I stopped by the SUV for a second before following the team. 

"About 30 minutes ago," Joe replied. "A car drove by and called in a dead body." 

"It looks like she was killed here. There's scuff marks where she fought back," Hotch said pointing at the dirt. 

" He didn't cover it this time," Rossi said. " Maybe he didn't have enough time." 

" He definitely had time. Rossi, look at her hair, it's perfectly combed out, her nails painted. Her hand one right over the other, nice shoes completely clean, clean clothes," Morgan replied looking over the body. 

"It's just like the last crime scene. I can see it from the road as we pull up. She's in plain sight," I piped in. 

"Maybe she has some DNA under her nails," Emily said. 

" No, not likely. He spends so much time cleaning her up and making her look nice. There's no way he left something as simple as some DNA," J.J replied. 

" Something must have spoo-" I started speaking until I heard Barry behind me. 

" I'm so sorry I'm late," Barry said, running to the victim and throwing his stuff down. "I just saw I had some missed calls and came down." 

"Oh, Barry Allen? Late? Never!" I joked, not even realizing who was next to me. 

That was the problem with Barry and the whole reason I fell in love with him. When he was around no one else was in the room. Almost exactly what also happens with Hotch whenever we're together. 

"Barry, do you see anything weird?" I asked. 

"Wait, I think there's something in her mouth," Reid said, getting closer to the body. "Barry, can you hand me something to grab?"  

" Uh, sure?" Barry replied, confused. He reluctantly handed him a pair of giant tweezer things. 

" Thanks," Reid replied and started digging. He successfully pulled a crumpled piece of paper from the victim's mouth and opened it. 

"What does it say?" Hotch asked. 

"It's an article published by Iris West. Her name is underlined and it says 'The next liar'. He also highlighted the part that says 'FBI to investigate bodies left on the side of the road. No one was available for contact.'" Reid said which made Barry and Joe go white, I was probably pretty white myself. 

"Joe call Iris," I snapped. "Make sure she's in a safe place so we can work on this case without worrying about her."

"Barry, Joe is going to take care of her. I need your head in the game. You're the most brilliant forensic scientist I know and I want to catch this sick fuck before we have to hide her," I said layingy hand on his shoulder. "Now tell me what that brilliant mind sees." 

Barry took a large deep breath and started examining the body. 

"You know what gets me? He abducts these women with no witnesses and kills them on the side of the road still with no witnesses. Someone had to hear something," Morgan said, which caused everyone to start thinking. 

"He could've told her if she didn't cooperate he'd kill her family," Emily said.

"But then why didn't she scream? Again this is Central City plus the flash probably would've seen something," I said. 

"She didn't scream," Barry replied. "He removed their tongue before he killed her." 

"I didn't think this sick fuck could get any sicker," I snapped. 

"We're ready to give the profile," Hotch replied. "Captain Singh, have your men meet us in 30 minutes." 

With that Hotch walked out leaving us standing there. It wasn't weird but he seemed more cold than usual. Maybe I was imagining things. 

"Anything else Barry?" I asked. 

"I found the same fibers. I'm going to test them specially," Barry replied. 

"Did you not have them tested before?" Morgan asked. 

"Of course I had them tested before," Barry replied. 

"So why have them tested again?" Morgan asked, prying. 

"Sometimes Barry outsources to S.T.A.R labs," I replied. "They have better tech than the police." 

Morgan gave me a side eye. He was beginning to see right through my facade. 

"We should probably catch up with Hotch," Reid said a little too awkwardly. 

"I think I will be taking my own air conditioned Uber ride back," Rossi  out his phone and calling for a ride. 

"Hey Rossi let me come with you," Morgan shouted. 

"That defeats the purpose of 'MY very own Uber ride.'" Rossi replied, earning a protest from Morgan. 

"Come on Rossi, it's too hot in that car," Morgan responded. 

“Not my problem,” Rossi replied as he slid in the uber ride.

We pilled into the black SUV and rolled down all the windows in an attempt to alleviate the unbearable Missouri heat. 

“Is it just me or is Hotch more irritable than usual during this case?” I asked, taking off my suit jacket. 

“Yeah, I noticed that too,” Emily replied

“He probably just wants the case solved,” Morgan replied.

 “He probably just wants out of this Missouri heat,” J.J replied. 

“He doesn’t like Barry,” Reid replied. 

“Why?” J.J asked, chuckling. “Barry has been nothing but helpful with this case.” 

“How do you know Barry, (Y/N)?” Emily asked. 

“I went to college with him. I already told you,” I chuckled nervously. 

“You didn’t hug him like no college buddy,” Morgan replied. 

“You loved him didn’t you?” Reid said. 

“I married him,” I whispered, earning a few eyes. 

“We were just waiting for you to tell us. You might be able to hide things from us but Barry is a different story,” J.J replied. 

“Barry is basically an open book,” I sighed. 

“Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell us?” Morgan asked. 

“There are parts of my life I want to keep private. We share too much of ourselves already," I shrugged. "Besides Barry is a past I left behind." 

We sat in silence for the rest of the ride. It wasn’t great but I was thankful for the chance to be able to avoid conversations like my crush on Hotch and my past with Barry. IT wasn’t exactly something I wanted to talk about. 

When Morgan pulled up to the station we all immediately jumped out and Rossi was right next to us. He jumped out and muttered a thank you to the driver and met up with us. 

“How was your nice air conditioned ride?” I asked earning a perk up from Rossi.

“It was fantastic,” He responded, which made Morgan and I shake our heads.

We made our way toward Hotch and sat down in the office. Rossi shut the door behind himself. I picked the seat next to Morgan and caught a glance of Hotch’s side eye. I had no idea what I had done wrong this time. 

“What do we have for the profile?” Hotch asked.

“White male, late 20s early 30s, sexual sadist, seems like he removes the tongue because it shows how he feels when he talks to women. That’s why he has to rape them he can’t talk to women let alone keep one engaged long enough to sleep with her,” Morgan shrugged. 

“It could be a sign of something else, Schizophrenia or something else,” I responded. 

“No he’s definitely a sexual sadist,” Hotch replied. 

"Maybe Barry has some--"  I started when Hotch quickly cut me off.

"I don't think there's anything else Barry can give us," he said sternly but not unprofessionally. 

I mean it was true the only reason I was asking about anything is I was hoping he used his flash abilities to find something out. So far nothing.

Morgan shot me a look and so did Emily which made me turn red. 

Maybe there was more to how Hotch felt than I thought. 

[vivilove-jonsa]

Just saw there are some August Prompts! If you're still up for it, #28. Polaroid Photos, please? 😊🤗

Okay, I wasn't necessarily doing the prompts but it's you and I love you and I love this prompt too so here you go...

I'm going vintage here for my polaroid photos so check out this old commercial with James Garner I found to show off Sansa's spiffy Christmas gift...lol.

Fic under the cut. Mentions of Marijuana use.

Christmas Night 1978

For years, Sansa had known she wanted to be a photographer someday, to take amazing photos like the ones she’d see in her magazines. Fashion, nature or wildlife, she was sure she was meant to do something like that.

So this year, she’d begged for her own camera, a Polaroid One Step, and she’d received it. One button, just aim and click and out came your picture. She was going to take so many pictures! Except she’d have to raid her piggy bank to buy more film. The camera had come with 3 8-exposure packs of film but she’d had to test it out thoroughly, right?

Not all of them had turned out so great. Rickon and the dogs wouldn’t sit still long enough. Bran and Arya liked making faces at her too much. Some were too dark and one got touched while it was still developing. Mother and Daddy had cooperated at least and she had a nice one of them tacked up on her corkboard to display.

Jon and Lyanna had shown up for coffee and cake and final presents around nine. It was nearing midnight now and the adults were playing cards in the kitchen. Robb had disappeared to his room with Jon a while ago and the younger kids were in bed. Sansa was starting to yawn and thinking about slipping into her PJs and listening to her other gift on her record player, the soundtrack for Grease.

Jon had gone for his mandatory trip to his dad’s today as per the custody agreement which was why they’d been so late coming over. He’d been in a bad mood when they arrived. It sounded like he still was. Robb’s door was ajar and she could hear him fuming about something. It also smelled like marijuana in there. Robb rarely did it when Mother and Daddy were home but it was Christmas and maybe he thought he could get away with it. He was probably right.

“I’m not going next year,” she overheard Jon telling Robb. Alright, she’d stopped to eavesdrop a little.

“But I thought you had to go.”

“I’ll be eighteen next year and they can’t make me then. I’m not wasting another Christmas with him just because he likes pissing off Mom and then be ignored the whole time. Fuck him.”

Sansa gasped at Jon’s language and then covered her mouth, standing still as a statue and hoping neither boy had heard her.

“What do you want, Sansa?” Robb asked in annoyance as he poked his head out. (Of course, they’d heard her.)

Jon poked his head out too as she was trying to come up with an answer. She didn’t necessarily want anything. She’d just been curious. She didn’t want them to think she planned on snitching on them for smoking pot either. Scrambling, she blurted out something that sounded plausible.

“I wanted to take Jon’s picture before I go to bed! With my new camera.” It was still in her hands and she held it up.

Robb rolled his eyes but she saw Jon cracking a smile, the first one she’d seen from him today. She’d made him smile and that made up for the fact that she’d be using her next to last picture on him.

Robb held the door open wider and told her not to say anything. She knew what he meant. The ashtray was sitting on his window sill with the window cracked. She nodded. She could be cool. She wasn’t a little kid.

“You really want to take a picture of his ugly mug?” her brother asked, teasingly.

“He’s better looking than you at least,” she snarked back before she’d thought those words through.

Robb laughed and now she was blushing…dammit. But Jon was blushing a bit, too.

And when she thought about it, she didn’t think they had a recent picture of Jon, not since he’d been ten or so. That’d been when he’d started going to his dad’s on Christmas and Christmas was one of the few times a year Catelyn Stark made a point to get her camera out for a photo or two. Her mother was always busy on holidays. It seemed a shame not to have a more recent picture of Jon.

“Where’d you want to take it?” Jon asked, his hands shoved in his pockets. He looked kind of self-conscious. It was kind of cute. He was kind of cute actually. She hadn’t really considered it before.

In an attempt to hide the fact she was still blushing, Sansa looked around her brother’s room and took more than three seconds to consider the lighting and background…like a real photographer might.

“Stand there and, Robb, you stand beside him. I’d like to get you together.”

Robb grumbled but both boys were grinning when they heard “Say cheese!” and she clicked the button. She thought it might be the best photo so far. It was definitely going up next to the one of Mother and Daddy on her corkboard.

“What about you?” Jon asked as Robb was trying to shoo her back out of his room.

“What about me?” she asked as Robb groaned.

“Have you had your picture taken today?”

“I…well, there’s only one left and I don’t know if…no one would…”

Jon reached for her camera, his warm hands brushing hers and making her blush all over again. “There should be at least one of you with your new camera. I just aim and click, right?”

“Right,” she stammered as Jon held it up, grinning at her and making her tummy do the silliest little flips and flops.

Deciding he liked being photographed apparently, Robb wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze. “Smile, Sansa.”

She thought she looked more like a deer caught in headlights once the picture developed but Jon said she looked pretty in it. “Can I keep it?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah…sure.”

“Thanks.”

He was carefully placing the picture on top of his jacket as Robb kicked her out for good this time. She thought she might have floated to her room more than walked. She laid down in her bed that night, staring at the picture she’d taken of him, listening to her new album and daydreaming a little.

[cellsshapedlikestars]

jonsa prompt fic/modern au

(look at me, making my way through the rest of my prompts from *checks watch* five months ago)

This one was from the lovely @chispas-and-broken-bindings and the prompt was: “I'm sorry 'bout the other night and I know I could be more creative and come up with poetic lines but..”

1) had to google these lyrics, and I have to say, I had never heard of this song, so thank you for also bringing it to my attention

2) I have no concept of what a drabble is, apparently. I meant to keep all of these at under 1k words but nooooope

.

.

Jon grunts as he reaches deep into the fridge – he can see the label of one of those craft beers Theon had (with shockingly good taste) brought in the back and he'd really like that instead of the cheaper swill crowding the front.

Sansa's birthdays are always massive and he honestly forgot the way she goes all out for them. After high school, he just never really made it back for her big, late-September parties and then after college, he'd taken a job down in Dorne. It's his first year back and he sort of forgot how overwhelming it all is - how many friends she has, how her entire extended family shows up.

It doesn't help that he barely knows any of her friends anymore. He recognizes a few from her high school years, but other than that he knows no one. Thank the gods the Starks and Theon are here, because otherwise, Jon's lost in a sea of strangers.

“Jon Snow!” he hears a voice behind him, light and airy and filled with what almost sounds like glee. His fingers finally manage to grasp the neck of the bottle he was aiming for and he pulls back and stands up and turns around to see – fuck, what's her name? Margaery, that's right. Sansa's best friend from high school.

“Hey,” he says, giving her what he's sure is the smile that Robb always calls ‘weird’ and ‘awkward‘ (how you've ever gotten any woman to sleep with you is a miracle, he remembers Robb telling him once).

“It's so nice that you could come,” Margaery says, voice oozing with... something he can't quite place.

“Uh, yeah?” he agrees, because he guesses it is nice? He starts to move around her – they're the only two in the basement right now, everyone else is outside at the party, he'd only come in to grab a drink.

“I mean, I guess we're all adults now, high school is so a decade ago, am I right?” There's a sort of glint in her eye that Jon doesn't like and he really, really wants to get back outside, but there's also a part of him that wants to ask what the hell she means.

“It was a decade ago,” he agrees again, edging towards the door.

“It must have been so awkward for you, I guess that's why you've been avoiding her all these years,” Margaery sighs and tilts her head with a piercing stare, like she's trying to look into his soul or something.

“I... what?”

“Oh, it's ok,” she smiles, leaning forward and starting to whisper even though there's no one else around, “she told me everything.”

“Everything about what?” he asks, mind going suddenly blank because he cannot think of a single thing that Margaery could be talking about.

“Your crush, duh!”

For a moment there's silence in the basement, before, “my crush?”

“I mean, you were like... obsessed with her!”

Jon blinks, feeling both very confused and very stupid as he says, “what?”

“Oh come on! We were all there when you sent her those flowers. You clearly wanted everyone to know, you had them delivered in the middle of lunch! She even read the card aloud – what did it say? Oh my god, they were lyrics, that's right! I'm sorry 'bout the other night and I know I could be more creative and come up with poetic lines but..” she trails off with a giggle. “I'll be honest, I never pegged you as a Rihanna fan.”

Jon feels some sort of creeping horror filling him because he has - one, never sent anyone besides his mother flowers and two, doesn't think he knows even a single Rihanna song.

“Excuse me.”

He walks out of the basement with Margaery's tinkling laugh following him and when he's outside, he immediately spots Sansa, surrounded by a group of her friends by the pool, laughing with a glass of sangria in her hand and a flower crown on her head and a sash that reads Birthday Girl! across her body.

Arya calls to him, but he ignores her as he pushes through the crowd of Sansa's friends and family, making his way to her. She spots him right before he gets there, a smile forming and then fading when she takes in his face – and then panic seems to cross her features and she looks around, like she's going to try to run.

“Sansa,” he says before she can bolt, and her friends part to let him through. “Can we talk?”

She opens her mouth, but he takes her by the arm and starts dragging her away from her friends and behind them, he thinks he hears a few of them start to whisper and giggle and the annoyance that's been simmering in his chest flares.

“Jon, I'm so glad you could make it!” she says brightly, plastering a smile on her face that he can tell is completely fake. “It's been-”

“Why does Margaery think I had a crush on you in high school?”

He watches her open and close her mouth a few times, eyes darting around for an escape and he tightens his grip on her arm.

“I don't...” she starts, but her voice isn't very strong.

“Sansa,” he tries to keep his voice calm and even.

“Ok, fine,” she hisses, eyes snapping back to him and narrowing and there's the Sansa he knows. She may look sweet and innocent, but Jon has known her long enough to know she isn't the wilting flower she sometimes pretends to be. He watches her spine straighten and her head rise and she looks him in the eye. “I told some of my friends back then that you had a thing for me, so what? It was like, a decade ago. It's nothing to freak out over.”

“Well, Margaery is bringing it up to me at a party a decade later. Why does she think I sent you flowers?”

Her confidence falters then, pink staining her cheeks. “I needed to convince them you had a crush on me, so I... may have... sent myself flowers and made the card from you.”

He stares at her, dumbfounded, before asking, “why did I never hear about this before?”

Sansa shrugs and says, “you were away at college at the time. And then you went south and this is the first time you've been around my high school friends since then?”

“Why?” he asks, mind still reeling over this (and, oh gods, he hopes none of Sansa's high school friends ever said anything to Robb or her parents. But no, if they had, Jon's pretty sure he'd be dead in a ditch or, at the very least, banned from family functions by now).

He watches her struggle to come up with something to say, watches the blush spread from high on her cheeks down to her throat and she visibly swallows and for a moment he thinks she might cry and he feels suddenly horrible. Except no – she's the one making up stories about him. He shouldn't feel bad!

“It was... we were at a party and they were all talking about-” she lowers her voice to a whisper, eyes darting around, “-sex and they kept making jokes about how I was a virgin and they knew I hadn't slept with Joffrey before we broke up and I was sick of them making fun of me so I just... I told them I wasn't a virgin. And then they wanted to know who and... well, you were the first person I thought of.”

He's not quite sure how to take that and he doesn't really know what to say (though honestly, he wants to tell her that her high school friends were shit then and they're still pretty shit now, if Margaery cornering him in the basement to taunt him about his supposed crush is any indication).

“And the flowers?”

“Ok,” she says, letting out a forced, breathless laugh, “here's where it gets funny. I promise, you're gonna laugh...” He keeps frowning at her and she gives a subtle tug to her arm and, finding it unmoving, realizes she's going to have to tell him. “Margaery asked a lot of questions and I could tell she didn't believe me and it turned into this whole thing where you were like, obsessed with me? I told them you wrote me poetry and then I sent the flowers to myself...” she trails off uncertainly and Jon wills himself to breathe deep and bite his tongue against his initial retort.

“And you never thought that your gossipy high school friends might spread this around and it could get back to, I don't know, your brother - my best friend? Your parents?”

Her eyes go wide in horror and Jon can tell that no, she never thought of that. Her eyes dart around the party and Jon turns to look behind him and he can see a group of her high school friends whispering together and not too far away is her parents talking to her Uncle Benjen. He watches her eyes well up with tears and he fights back a sigh of annoyance because he wants to be furious with her, but he can't quite manage it (he is weak to tears, yes, but he also remembers high school Sansa – how insecure she was, how desperate to fit in with her friends, that little shit boyfriend who made her feel even worse – and he can't bring himself to be mad).

“Did it have to be Rihanna?” he sighs eventually, giving her what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

“It's a good song,” she says, hesitantly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth in return.

“You really should ditch those friends,” he tells her, serious again.

“I honestly don't hang out with them anymore, I just invited them because we all still live around here and Margaery DM'd me a few weeks ago about my party and I felt weird not inviting her. If you want, I can tell them the truth. I should have years ago.”

“It doesn't really matter,” he shrugs. “As long as it never gets back to your family, I do not want to deal with them thinking I deflowered their precious daughter.”

She huffs out an incredulous laugh and says, “I almost wish it had been you, Harry...” And then she stops and her mouth drops open and her eyes go wide like she can't believe she said that and honestly, neither can Jon. It hangs between them for a moment and suddenly he is very aware of his hand still on her arm, how smooth her skin feels beneath his touch. He lets go of her like it burns.

“Well,” he says, shifting back to give a few more inches of space between them. “I should probably let you get back to your party.”

“Yeah,” she says and then, just before he turns to go, “I'm glad you're back. In Winterfell, I mean. I guess I'll be seeing you around more?”

He stares at her for a few moments, the pink stain back on her cheeks, teeth biting into her bottom lip, fingers nervously playing with her birthday sash and he should say no because he can feel this leading down a road he was not prepared for, but instead he says, “yeah. Yes. I'll see you around.”

“Good,” she says and she smiles and as he walks away, all he can think is – Robb is gonna be so annoying about this.

[megsironthrone]

Found

Based on this request:  Moden Robb x reader where Grey Wind runs away and Robb is distraught putting up posters and reader is the one who finds the direwolf and safely returns him.

Here you are! *Characters are NOT mine!*

Warnings: Modern AU, missing animal, fluff.

Pairings/Characters: Robb Stark x reader, Grey Wind

Robb was distraught. It wasn't like Grey Wind to run off like that and now Robb couldn't find him. He'd been searching for three days. Honestly, how hard is it to track down a giant dog? He was bigger than any wolf after all. Robb suspected he was the most closely related dog to the extinct dire wolf. He hadn't been at all easy to train, but Robb had managed. Until something caught Grey Wind's attention and he went running off.

         Now, Robb was searching everywhere. He'd even gone so far as to start putting up posters. It seemed silly, but Grey Wind was family. Robb wasn't going to rest until Grey Wind was back home where he belonged. So, he put up posters and asked his friends and family to keep an eye out. Even Arya put a post up on her social media (Robb was a bit behind the times with technology sometimes). Somehow they knew Grey Wind would come home.

         It was two days later, a grand total of five days that Grey Wind had gone missing, when Robb's phone rang. It didn't matter that Robb was sitting at his desk trying to get some work done. He dropped everything to answer the call. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Robb Stark?" Robb answered that it was.

"Oh good. My name is Y/F/N. I'm pretty sure I found your dog," you said and then chuckled before continuing, "Or rather, your wolf. This boy is massive." Robb's mood instantly picked up. "You found Grey Wind?!" He could practically hear your smile over the phone.

         "I don't think there's any mistaking him. I'll send you a picture just to be certain and we can meet up. He's a beautiful dog, but he's eating me out of house and home at the moment. Plus, I think he'd much rather be back home with you." Robb agreed without any hesitation and hung up. A moment later, his phone pinged, indicating a text message.

         Sure enough, the picture you sent was of Grey Wind. He didn't look any worse for wear. In fact, he looked relaxed and content in the picture. He was lying down with a child leaning against him and what looked to be a turtle on his back. After calling his father to let him know what was happening and that work would be a little late, Robb grabbed his coat and practically ran out the door.

         As soon as he reached the appointed destination, Robb stopped and looked around. No sign of you yet. Or at least, no sign of Grey Wind. He had no idea what you looked like after all. Robb began shifting his weight as he waited. Would Grey Wind be okay? Had you been kind to him? He was so preoccupied that he didn't hear what was probably the thundering steps of a giant dog coming up behind him. It wasn't until Robb found himself face first on the ground to an enormous weight on his back that he came back to reality.

         As soon as the weight was off his back, Robb rolled over. "Grey Wind!" he cried in relief, reaching up to wrap his arms around the giant of a dog. A chuckle brought his attention away from the beast for a moment. Robb got up and dusted off his trousers. "Are you Y/F/N?" You smiled and offered your hand. "That would be me. I'm glad we found you. And sorry about the turtle and my sibling's kid. It was the only way Grey Wind would sit still long enough for me to take the picture."

         "How'd you find him?" You proceeded to tell him that you had been out with your niece/nephew that day getting them their pet turtle when Grey Wind just suddenly appeared, nearly knocking you both over. Apparently, he'd caught the scent of one of you and followed it.

         "We looked for you for a while, but I had to get the kid back or my sibling would have thrown a fit. Then one of my friends sent me the link to the post about Grey Wind on social media." Grey Wind rolled impatiently in the grass as Robb thanked you. "How can I repay you?'

         "Not necessary. I love to see a man reunited with his best friend." You called the dog's name and he was instantly up and by your feet. You reached down and gave him a few pets, encouraging him to be good and not run off again. Then, you bid Robb goodbye and turned to leave.

         As you walked away, Grey Wind began whining and trying to run after you. This time, Robb grabbed his collar and used every ounce of strength he had to hold the dog back. Grey Wind stopped, but continued to whine. He looked between Robb and your retreating form with a gaze that nearly broke Robb's heart.

         "You really like them, huh?" Robb asked and Grey Wind wagged his tail a bit. Robb sighed and tried to convince the dog to move in the opposite direction. He wouldn't budge. After a moment, Robb huffed in frustration. "Fine. What do you want me to do?" Robb was pulled toward you, nearly colliding with your back when you stopped as you heard Grey Wind's steps.

         "Well, hello again. You know, I didn't think I'd see you again so soon," you joked with a wink. Robb cleared his throat, "Yes, well, Grey Wind had other ideas." You laughed and shook your head. "Of course he did. I really do have to go though." You started walking away again, and Grey Wind began to whine.

         "This is a problem," you stated, hearing the whine from the animal. Robb nodded in agreement. "Look, I come to this park every day with him. Maybe we could, I don't know, met up once a week? For Grey Wind's sake." You smirked a little as his face turned red. "Sure. For his sake. Then, maybe one night, we could have dinner…for Grey Wind's sake," you said.

         Robb flushed even more. "You're very bold." You shrugged a little. "I know what I like and any man that cares about his dog the way you seem to is someone I could definitely like." Robb cleared his throat. It had been a while since he'd met someone so forward. "Dinner sounds great. I'll, uh, text you?" You nodded before leaning down to kiss Grey Wind on the nose. You whispered something that sounded like a "thank you" to his before turning and walking away, leaving Robb wondering what he'd just gotten himself into.

(a/n: I hope you like it, lovelies! I’ve got a thing for making direwolves matchmakers apparently.)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard​ @brewsthespirit-blog​ @etherealpotter​ @line-viper​ @frozenhuntress67​ @cd1242​ @gruffle1​ @smalltownbigheart​ @igotmadskills​ 

Robb Stark Tags: @multi-fandom-imagines8​ @silversprings98​ @i-padfootblack-things​

[emu-lumberjack]

Don’t Answer the Phone Tired pt. 2

It’s the next day and Damian has gotten even less sleep, thankfully he’s not too tired after a some surprise news shocks him awake.

———————————-

Hey guys here’s the sequel everyone was super excited for. I really hope y'all like it, I definitely wrote it tired, but it should be coherent. 

Read part 1 here

Read part 3 here

Read part 4 here

Read part 5 here

He really needed coffee, especially after dealing with his brothers after they found out about Marinette. The youngest Wayne was up till four yelling at them to lay off, among more colorful terms, everyone time they called. He would’ve just ignored them but he knew that ignoring them would just wind up with him getting a surprise visit sooner than later. The fresh Parisian air felt good against his face as he stood on his balcony.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel let down your hair!” Marinette's voice called from the street.

“Only if the prince is willing to protect me from my aggravating brothers!” He cracked a smile as he shouted back.

“Alas I cannot do that, but would my damsel take this as a reward?” She held up a purple travel mug and a bag filled with a croissant.

“I think I could take that deal. I’ll be down in a few minutes.” He ran inside to grab his bag and throw on some day clothes before meeting Marinette.

“Have I mentioned you’re the best girlfriend? Because you’re the best girlfriend.” Damian said walking up to Marinette.

“You could stand to mention it more.” The bluenette replied handing him his promised coffee and croissant. He gulped down the coffee barely taking a breath until Marinette laughed and said, “Slow down there, you won't have any time to savor any of it.”

“If you want to stay up late dealing with my brothers, please be my guest but if not,” He gestured with his cup, “I’m gonna drink as fast as I want to.” Marinette nodded to that.

“Was it that bad last night after you left?”

“By bad do you mean each one of was trying to call me every five minutes out of ‘concern’ for my health or to check to make sure I hadn’t kidnapped you.” Marinette laughed again. “Anyway if I didn’t talk to them at all they probably would’ve hopped on the first flight they could to see what’s going on.” They stopped at the light, when Damian turned to look at Marinette he noticed she was avoiding his gaze. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about my brothers. Would you Angel?”

“Well, I might have gotten a text from Aurore to keep you away from school because three older guys had come and were asking around for you. One of them was half asleep and she couldn’t figure out how he was functional.”

Damian paled, after a moment he said “And why then are we going to school, I personally want to get as far away from them as possible.”

“She sent me a follow up saying to get there as fast as possible. Lila told her lie in front of the wrong person and, well I’ll show you the video.” Marinette handed her phone to Damian who hit play on the video that was up.

The forms of Grayson, Todd and Drake half asleep leaning on Jason. A voice came from off screen saying,

“Girl I can’t believe Tim’s not taking you to the Wayne Gala.” Alya, Damian thought. She was beginning to walk into frame with someone else. He knew who she was before she spoke.

“I know right. It’s just why would he invite someone else!” There in all her demonic glory stood Lila Rossi, not yet realising who she was walking next to.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but are you talking about Tim Drake? Adopted son of Bruce Wayne?” Grayson asked innocently. Damian knew that voice, it was the same one he used when he was going to demolish someone. “Well yeah. He’s her boyfriend, who are you anyway? Why do you care?” Alya was immediately there to be Lila’s guard dog.

“Well my name is Richard Grayson-Wayne. Tim’s brother and Bruce's son. I care because unless he’s as good at keeping secrets as Damian is, which he’s not, then he isn’t dating this girl.” Alya paled, the camera zoomed in on Lila’s face. She looked like she was about to be sick

“Huh? I heard my name.” Drake, who was in a rare moment of lucidness, looked at Dick.

“Are you pulling a Damian and secretly dating a girl in France?” Todd still Drake’s support was glaring at Lila.

“What?! Are you kidding me? No!” Drake looked like he was just hit with a cement slab.

“What are you talking about obviously you’re dating Lila! Stop Lying! I bet you're not even the real Tim Drake.” Alya was shouting now drawing crowds from around the courtyard. Drake looked at Grayson confused.

“She does realize that we can sue her if she’s really telling these types of lies right? Like she can’t be doing that.” Tim stood in front of Dick and turned his back to the paled liar and fuming reporter

“Oh leave Lila alone!” Alya came towards Drake and shoved him into Grayson.

“That does it.” Todd who had moved off to the side started walking towards the brunette rolling up his sleeves. Grayson and Todd recovered quickly, and moved to hold Todd back.

“We should get there before Todd kills them.” He said calmly before handing the phone back to Marinette. “Otherwise we won’t be able to take her down ourselves.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

In no time the duo were walking up the steps of Françoise Dupont where the sounds of shouts could be heard. The scene they entered was somehow more chaotic then the one Aurore had sent in the video. Todd was hanging upside down, the rope leading up around the handrails on the second floor then back down to a corner of the courtyard. Drake was on the bench snoring softly with his head almost touching the floor. Dick was on the phone, presumably with some lawyers. The entire bottom courtyard of the school was littered with papers and balloons were strewn about. Lila was nowhere to be seen.

“It looks like they’ve taken care of the situation, and they haven’t spotted us yet so I’m just gonna…” Damian began.

“There he is! Demonspawn, finally I thought you’d never get here.” Jason interrupted. He had spun around and caught sight of Damian and Marinette walking in. Dick turned around at the sound of Jason’s voice before saying “Yeah Duke I’ll have to call you back, but we need to sort this Lila stuff out.” He put his phone away before walking over to a corner of the building where he took out his knife and slashed a piece of rope. Jason came crashing down.

“A little warning next time Dick.” Jason said brushing off some dust that had settled on his tan leather jacket. Each one of them were dressed in their civilian clothing. Dick had on a pair of blue jeans with a grey t-shirt paired with some black sneakers. Jason was wearing his usual jeans, t-shirt, and leather jacket combo. Drake was in some weird form of pajama and day clothes mixing a graphic T-shirt and red flannel with grey sweatpants and slippers.

“Now I know that we have to be dreaming. Demonspawn is actually wearing a sweatshirt. I don’t even think Alfred could get him to do that.” Damian had run out once he heard Marinette’s voice that morning so he had just thrown on a pair of pants, a shirt and a sweatshirt barely thinking about it. He had become relaxed in Paris.

“What the hell are you guys doing here.” Damian’s face was quickly beginning to match a tomato in color and he was backing out of the entryway.

“Well obviously we had to come and see you, and meet your girlfriend.” Dick who had walked over to Marinette grabbed her hand and shook it. “My name’s Dick, the grumbling menace over there is Jason. The one currently passed out is Tim, nice to meet you, uh”

“Marinette.” She supplied. “I also have to thank you for taking care of a certain person, I’ve been trying to figure out how to get rid of her for a year.”

“Oh it was no problem at all, especially after she claimed she was dating Tim.” Damian quickly interrupted the two with a few well placed coughs. “I don’t mean to cut this short Grayson but we have to be getting to class.”

“Oh don’t worry. Bruce already called you out for the day, and Marinette I’m sure you can miss one day of school.” Jason said walking up behind Marinette.

“As much as I’d love to, I have two tests today. I’ll be happy to meet up with you afterwards though.” Damian’s eyes widened as the words sunk in and he realized what that meant for him.

“Please don’t leave me alone with them.” He looked at Marinette pleadingly.

“You’re gonna have to tell us how you got him to say please, it took Alfred a month to do that.” Jason remarked.

“Maybe another time, now I’ve gotta get to class.” She gave one look at Damian and there was laughter in her eyes.

“I hate you.” He said.

“No you don’t.” She called back, disappearing around the corner.

“So how bout we wake up Timmy and go get breakfast. I for one am famished.” Jason came up and put a hand on Damians shoulder.

“Ya know that doesn’t sound so bad Jason. Then Damian can tell us all about Paris, and the people he’s met.” Dick stood in front of Damians glare gleefully looking at Jason.

“I will kill you both and Father will never be able to find your bodies.”

“Yeah but then Marinette will be disappointed. For some reason she gives off the ‘thou shall not kill’ vibe.” Grayson said. “Now how are we gonna wake Tim up.”

“Oh I’ll  take care of it.” Damian said grabbing his Ice filled water bottle.

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[magalidragon]

Silent Shadows | Chapter 14: the journey | a teaser

"How are things with you and Arsehole?"

That was pretty not at all subtle. She rolled her eyes. "Arsehole?"

Arya shrugged. "He's been a total toolbox the last few days, I wanted your take on why." She wagged her tongue and eyebrows. "You not putting out or something?"

"Arya!"

"What? Maybe he just needs to get laid."

She rolled her eyes, her turn now to be irritated. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the exam table, wrestling with telling Arya the full truth. It wasn't like she didn't know. By now, six months after she'd gone to Essos for her surgery, things had shifted, enough so that the ones closest to her and Jon were fully aware of them.

It had gone around town rather quickly, the vet moving in with the deaf wolf owner. It took a few months, her possessions slowly migrating from the apartment above the office to Jon's house-- their house-- until one morning Jon just asked her flat out if she wanted to move in. He had been very Jon about it all.

He was brushing his teeth, while she washed her face, side-by-side sinks, very domestic, and after he spit out the toothpaste, met her gaze in the mirror and signed: "Do you live here now? If not, you should." Then he turned around and walked out.

Dany raked her fingers through her hair, letting it fall out of the messy braid she'd tugged it into that morning, in a rush to get out and to the clinic in time for her first appointment. The distance between the house and the clinic had been the only thing she didn't much care for when it came to moving in with Jon. She began to rebraid her hair, quietly speaking to Arya. "It's jus tbeen hard, the last few months."

"I know," Arya murmured.

They were referring to Ghost's attack, the terrifying moment when they thought that all would be lost. She had been more scared than any moment in her life combined, focusing on every ounce of training in her bones, healing the animal that gave her loved one his voice. Without him, Jon could not speak, and with everything else in their life, losing Ghost was not an option.

Thank the gods that had not happened, he was recovering well, still weak and slow, but healing. So was Jon, his heart having been ripped from his body at the sight of his beloved companion bleeding in the snow, and lying in the operating room while she stitched him together. They had been through too much to let it get to them, but it had been exhausting.

Six months of constant upheaval, they were still there. She figured Jon was allowed a few days to be an arsehole, even if it pissed off Arya. "I told him I didn't want to do another round yet," she mumbled, digging her toe into a groove in the tile. It was aged, desperately needing replacing, just another thing on her 'to do' list.

Coat rustling, Arya moved back from the window, and went over to stand next to her, lightly touching her hand. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"It is what it is, you know?" The surgery had been successful, Mel said, removing scar tissue and other adhesions, and so with the first round they hoped it would take, but she was prepared for the worst. It hadn't, which had been devastating for them both.

She blamed herself for getting Jon's hopes up too. He was all in, from the moment he'd appeared in that hospital hallway to the way he'd 'artfully' proposed he'd be her donor. They didn't speak much about another round, until two months later, and that hadn't worked. This time she was saving up for another go, knowing Jon could afford it but not wanting his trust fund to be depleted because her stupid body couldn't do the one thing that it should do as a female.

Arya quirked her lip. "It just isn't time. Ghost's attack, moving in together...perhaps it's for the best right now."

"Yeah, I tell myself that too." They didn't bother to prevent it, didn't stop, but she was growing weary of 'scheduling' their lovemaking to when it was most conducive to pregnancy. She chewed her bottom lip, thinking of the box that was in her bag, waiting for when she went home, just in case. She was late. Maybe this time...

She didn't want to tell Arya just yet. She didn't even want to tell Jon. Sometimes she didn't even want to tell herself. It was a constant struggle. She chewed on her bottom lip a moment and then forced a smile, when Arya gave her a furrowed frown. "I'm fine," she lied.

"Uh-huh."

Of course Arya would not believe her. She was so protective. It was a blessing and a curse. She patted her hand, reassuring. "Seriously. Things will be fine. We're also getting used to things."

"Like what? Can I help? Gendry moving in with me was the weirdest thing ever. I thought I knew all his strange habits but then..." Ayra shuddered. "Men."

Dany laughed. She shrugged and knelt down to pet Lady, needing something to do with her hands. "Oh just all kinds of things. I had to get a sleep mask for his light alarm. Learning how to approach him so I don't scare him. Sometimes the silence can be a lot. I don't watch much TV but it's odd."

"He doesn't care about that, you know."

"I know, but I do." There were also the flashing lights on the microwave, the oven, and some other assistive devices she hadn't realized were even there until she moved in. Strobe lights in place of smoke and carbon monoxide detectors. Red blinking light over the door if someone was there, motion detected. There was also a vibrating device in the bed, she'd discovered, that could be hooked up to alarms to wake him, but he didn't use it.

"Freaks me out sometimes," he signed, when she asked why not. He smiled lecherously. "But we can find an alternative use for it."

Jon, always the resourceful one.

She clipped Lady's leash to her harness, standing and passing it over to Arya. "Then there's just the weird habits. You're right, men are weird."

"Jon has to be the weirdest."

"I don't know about that, but he does have some quirks." He hated laundry, waited way too long to do it, and it drove her insane. There was also the way he sometimes 'pretended' not to hear when she knew damn well he'd seen her signing, feigning surprise when she asked why he wasn't 'listening.' Usually when it was related to chores. Otherwise they had settled into a routine.

Arya walked out of the room with her, allowing Lady to lead the way to the door. "Well if you ever need a drink, let me know. Tormund misses you."

"I know, I have to stop by and see him."

"Rickon also says he wrote a song about you, he wants to send it to you, but needs your email." Arya rolled her eyes. "I shudder to think what he says in it."

Dany laughed. She liked Rickon and it seemed Rhaegar did as well. He had connections to the music industry in Essos and was looking into getting RIckon's band a few gigs. "I'll let Rhae know."

"Your hottie brother is so weird."

"Ew! He is not a hottie!"

Arya shrugged. "Sansa has a crush on him, don't tell her I told you that."

Dany pretended to gag, opening the door for Arya and Lady. She gestured for her to leave, with a flourish. "And with that, I bid you farewell. I also need to burn out my eyes, because my brother is not hot." Annoying and melancholy, yes. Hot? No way.

"Whatever. I think he's hot."

"Arya!" She made a face, sticking out her tongue. "Well, then let me tell you that your cousin is super hot and kept me up all night long last night with his..."

"Ew! Shut up!" Arya slapped her hands over her ears, closing her eyes tight. "La, la, la, la!"

She smirked. "Two can play that game."

"Goodbye bitch."

"Later." She made another face and waved, Lady hopping off excitedly towards the truck. She leaned against the door frame a moment longer, watching Arya drive away. It was nice to have someone close. Someone to joke with when things got tough. Her friendship with Arya had been a constant for her to rely on during her time in the North, even during those hard times with Jon. Missandei was so far away. Even if Dany was still trying to convince her to move there, her best friend hadn't budged, citing the cold was too much for her.

After a few minutes, she closed the door and flicked the sign, closing up for the Friday afternoon. Gilly had already left, to go deal with some sort of school drama involving her sons. Dany finished up and did some paperwork, trying to distract herself from what lay ahead at home

[janiedean]

hey, can you talk about this: why is it that even after jaime saves brienne from rape & jumps into a bearpit for her, brienne still expects the worst from him and thinks he wants her to kill sansa? can b ever fully trust and love jaime? will brienne ever accept that jaime loves her and is capable of good or will she always expect evil from him/ be insecure + expect him to pull a ronnet? i think this will cause problems for them if they ever get together. do you think it would be a deal-breaker?

tldr: no because the moment you read her affc povs you see she’s way past her initial distrust and actually that scene is... the turning point? like you don’t know that because you don’t have her pov, but anyway I think I’ll just break it down and be done with it since I had wanted to for a while - regardless, premise: you can see exactly how far she goes with trusting him/changing her mind about him by seeing her dialogue choices in asos before, as in, she calls him ser for the first time after he saves her from being raped and when they’re in the bath she snaps at him the moment he goads her about renly and she’s naked in front of a man and she feels most likely guilty for the loss of his hand, and the moment he faints she catches him and she volunteers to dress him/clean him up after, like... you don’t do that if you don’t want to and if you don’t care about the person some regardless. ANYWAY SO let me just find the whole scene.

SOOOO, counting that he’s doing this just after he basically broke up with cersei...

The wench looked as ugly and awkward as ever, he decided when Tyrell left them. Someone had dressed her in woman’s clothes again, but this dress fit much better than that hideous pink rag the goat had made her wear. “Blue is a good color on you, my lady,” Jaime observed. “It goes well with your eyes.” She does have astonishing eyes.

Brienne glanced down at herself, flustered. “Septa Donyse padded out the bodice, to give it that shape. She said you sent her to me.” She lingered by the door, as if she meant to flee at any second. “You look . . .”

“Different?” He managed a half-smile. “More meat on the ribs and fewer lice in my hair, that’s all. The stump’s the same. Close the door and come here.” She did as he bid her. “The white cloak . . .”

“. . . is new, but I’m sure I’ll soil it soon enough.”

“That wasn’t . . . I was about to say that it becomes you.”

right, so, when this entire scene starts you have the worst flirting that ever existed but like basically that’s pretty much what it is - they haven’t seen each other in a while right, and first he goes like UH UGLY AND AWKWARD, then in the span of three lines he decides that the dress looks nice on her and it fits her, and when he opens his mouth he calls her my lady and compliments her on her appearance and her eyes and then thinks SHE HAS ASTONISHING EYES which like... jaime you were thinking she was ugly three lines ago where is the truth, the truth is that he’s hella attracted to her, he’s not admitting it to himself but he can’t help saying it and so hey hello brienne, you just showed up in my room where I summoned you after having you freed and I’m telling you you’re hot!! when you never heard it before from a guy ever!!!

brienne at that point is FLUSTERED and feels like pointing out the bodice is padded as if he hasn’t seen her naked, and she’s obviously afraid af because she’s standing near the door, and then she goes like ‘you look...’ while most likely STARING at him like OH MY GOD HAVEN’T SEEN HIM IN WEEKS LOOK AT HIM jesus, and then he starts going off with the self-deprecating humor telling her to get over here, she does, she starts again with the white cloak, he goes all defensive self-deprecating again (I’ll soil it soon enough, presuming that she still thinks that of him)... and then she goes like I was about to say it becomes you, which means I’m telling you A WHITE CLOAK FITS YOU AND IS BECOMING ON YOU, which given the significancy of the white cloak/kg/the fact that he confessed her he believed in his vow/knighthood when he was fifteen in the bath... she’s telling him being honorable becomes him, which sorry but does not to me qualify as ‘expecting the worse of him’. now:

She came closer, hesitant. “Jaime, did you mean what you told Ser Loras? About . . . about King Renly, and the shadow?”

Jaime shrugged. “I would have killed Renly myself if we’d met in battle, what do I care who cut his throat?”

“You said I had honor . . .”

“I’m the bloody Kingslayer, remember? When I say you have honor, that’s like a whore vouchsafing your maidenhood.” He leaned back and looked up at her. 

problem is: he is on the self-deprecative spiral wanting to distance himself, which I have a feeling is because he’s a) upset because of cersei from before b) not exactly processing his feelings re being into her, so everything she is saying he’s shutting her down, which makes her hesitant - first he shrugs away having gotten her out of prison and talking for her to loras when if you read that part you know he cares about getting her out, she’s all like oh YOU SAID I HAD HONOR!!! **, and he immediately shuts that down too with the it’s worth nothing if I do, so basically she’s there all ‘!!! ** !!!’ and he’s back to shutting her out, which... considering how brienne is would make her lose a lot of courage here, right? right. also: SHE CALLED HIM JAIME in the beginning, which means... she feels like they’re on a familiar enough level that she can use his name without the ser before and she’s not calling him kingslayer. like. she’s absolutely expecting the best here.

“Steelshanks is on his way back north, to deliver Arya Stark to Roose Bolton.”

“You gave her to him?” she cried, dismayed. “You swore an oath to Lady Catelyn . . .”

“With a sword at my throat, but never mind. Lady Catelyn’s dead. I could not give her back her daughters even if I had them. And the girl my father sent with Steelshanks was not Arya Stark.”

“Not Arya Stark?”

“You heard me. My lord father found some skinny northern girl more or less the same age with more or less the same coloring. He dressed her up in white and grey, gave her a silver wolf to pin her cloak, and sent her off to wed Bolton’s bastard.” He lifted his stump to point at her. “I wanted to tell you that before you went galloping off to rescue her and got yourself killed for no good purpose. You’re not half bad with a sword, but you’re not good enough to take on two hundred men by yourself.”

now, for the chapter where grrm knows that words mean things: the definition of dismayed is : experiencing or showing feelings of alarmed concern or dismay : upset, worried, or agitated because of some unwelcome situation or occurrence, which means that the moment jaime goes like ‘oh and I gave arya to roose bolton’ she is UPSET at hearing that... because she didn’t expect that? she changed her mind, she thinks he’s honorable, he saved her from being raped, he’s complimenting her, she’s trying to compliment him, she thinks they have an understanding, he told her all of that...... and now he’s telling her he gave arya back to the boltons? when she thought he cared about their oath and he freed her? like what the fuck jaime? obviouly she’s upset, but because she already expected better and he’s a disaster emotionally stunted person who just moved on from 17yo of emotional maturity and he can’t have that conversation without going in self-defense. he points out he can’t do that but anyway then tells her it’s not arya.. because he didn’t want brienne to go after her ie he cared about her well-being and now he throws in a compliment too (you’re not half bad with a sword) and she’s most likely like wtf, also he gestures at her with the stump which cersei refused to interact with before and brienne doesn’t even flinch at that, but never mind let’s go on.

Brienne shook her head. “When Lord Bolton learns that your father paid him with false coin . . .”

“Oh, he knows. Lannisters lie, remember? It makes no matter, this girl serves his purpose just as well. Who is going to say that she isn’t Arya Stark? Everyone the girl was close to is dead except for her sister, who has disappeared.”

“Why would you tell me all this, if it’s true? You are betraying your father’s secrets.”

The Hand’s secrets, he thought. I no longer have a father. “I pay my debts like every good little lion. I did promise Lady Stark her daughters . . . and one of them is still alive. My brother may know where she is, but if so he isn’t saying. Cersei is convinced that Sansa helped him murder Joffrey.”

“The wench’s mouth got stubborn. “I will not believe that gentle girl a poisoner. Lady Catelyn said that she had a loving heart. It was your brother. There was a trial, Ser Loras said.”

as stated: she shakes her head, which is a thing you do... when you’ve just been given conflicting information, which he just did because he just told her HEY MY FATHER JUST BASICALLY LIED TO HIS ALLY, but poor girl is not a political shrewd mind because a moment later he explains her that they both knew and so on, and at that point brienne is understandably like WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS IT’S TREASON, which it technically is.... and then he remembers tywin disowned him and they argued so ‘I no longer have a father’, but he doesn’t tell brienne that, goes back to self-defensive, goes like ‘well I’m a good lion and I pay my debts’ and then only mentions what his brother and sister think, counting that brienne doesn’t know tyrion and know what he does about cersei... that might make her think that he’s taking their side, and now she is getting defensive pointing out it couldn’t be sansa and so on, but like... he basically has given her conflicted reactions, now she’s back on the defensive... as she generally is unless it’s with someone she trusts.

“Two trials, actually. Words and swords both failed him. A bloody mess. Did you watch from your window?”

“My cell faces the sea. I heard the shouting, though.”

“Prince Oberyn of Dorne is dead, Ser Gregor Clegane lies dying, and Tyrion stands condemned before the eyes of gods and men. They’re keeping him in a black cell till they kill him.”

Brienne looked at him. “You do not believe he did it.”

Jaime gave her a hard smile. “See, wench? We know each other too well. Tyrion’s wanted to be me since he took his first step, but he’d never follow me in kingslaying. Sansa Stark killed Joffrey. My brother’s kept silent to protect her. He gets these fits of gallantry from time to time. The last one cost him a nose. This time it will mean his head.”

now they discuss the trials blah blah blah, and brienne figures out he doesn’t believe tyrion did it just from the tone/the way he says it - because the facts are kind of straight, so it must be the tone of voice, and then what does he says as he gives her a *hard smile*? that they know each other too well. and then he goes and says a bunch of stuff that’s not true (sansa killed joffrey, tyrion kept silent), goading her again...

“No,” Brienne said. “It was not my lady’s daughter. It could not have been her.”

“There’s the stubborn stupid wench that I remember.”

“She reddened. “My name is . . .”

“Brienne of Tarth.” Jaime sighed. “I have a gift for you.” He reached down under the Lord Commander’s chair and brought it out, wrapped in folds of crimson velvet.

Brienne approached as if the bundle was like to bite her, reached out a huge freckled hand, and flipped back a fold of cloth. Rubies glimmered in the light. She picked the treasure up gingerly, curled her fingers around the leather grip, and slowly slid the sword free of its scabbard. Blood and black the ripples shone. A finger of reflected light ran red along the edge. “Is this Valyrian steel? I have never seen such colors.”

“Nor I. There was a time that I would have given my right hand to wield a sword like that. Now it appears I have, so the blade is wasted on me. Take it.” Before she could think to refuse, he went on. “A sword so fine must bear a name. It would please me if you would call this one Oathkeeper. One more thing. The blade comes with a price.”

... at which brienne absolutely falls for it and protests but then he goes like ‘oh there you are’, so he was most likely either testing her or pushing her to say it again/assure himself of what he was doing, but for her... it’d be even more confusing. she blushes when he calls her wench, and then when he says he has a gift she’s scared af until she sees what it is, and when she asks what it is first he does the self-deprecation thing again, then says he wants it named oathkeeper, so far so good... and then says it comes with a price, which makes it sound like she has to do something in return to have it, and how would that sound to her after this entire conversation when he hasn’t told her that he’s cut off ties with anyone but tyrion and he’s been basically hostile/sarcastic/has rebuked all her compliments?

Her face darkened. “I told you, I will never serve . . .”

“. . . such foul creatures as us. Yes, I recall. Hear me out, Brienne. Both of us swore oaths concerning Sansa Stark. Cersei means to see that the girl is found and killed, wherever she has gone to ground . . .”

Brienne’s homely face twisted in fury. “If you believe that I would harm my lady’s daughter for a sword, you—”

“Just listen,” he snapped, angered by her assumption. “I want you to find Sansa first, and get her somewhere safe. How else are the two of us going to make good our stupid vows to your precious dead Lady Catelyn?”

The wench blinked. “I . . . I thought . . .”

now here’s the point but like... she assumes he wanted her to do what cersei wanted when he hasn’t given her any other hint he might want to do otherwise throughout the exchange and basically never told her anything straight and she had come in all excited and wanting to compliment him and presuming the best, and then he gets angry because she assumed wrong... but what was she going to assume? then again: asos!jaime handles a lot of his interactions like an angry teenager because again he started moving on from it during this book and he has no idea of how to deal with her or that that kinda attitude would confuse the shit out of her and make her assume wrong things when she wasn’t assuming them to begin with, and when she immediately realizes he just wanted to keep the oath she goes back to OH, like... she was presuming they’d withhold it from the beginning when she mentioned it along with arya, so it’s her now knowing she was right and go like OH FUCK I FUCKED UP, but like... jaime baby ily but just tell her from the get go right? nah, I guess. buuut let’s go on.

“I know what you thought.” Suddenly Jaime was sick of the sight of her. She bleats like a bloody sheep. “When Ned Stark died, his greatsword was given to the King’s Justice,” he told her. “But my father felt that such a fine blade was wasted on a mere headsman. He gave Ser Ilyn a new sword, and had Ice melted down and reforged. There was enough metal for two new blades. You’re holding one. So you’ll be defending Ned Stark’s daughter with Ned Stark’s own steel, if that makes any difference to you.”

“Ser, I . . . I owe you an apolo . . .”

He cut her off. “Take the bloody sword and go, before I change my mind. There’s a bay mare in the stables, as homely as you are but somewhat better trained. Chase after Steelshanks, search for Sansa, or ride home to your isle of sapphires, it’s naught to me. I don’t want to look at you anymore.”

“Jaime . . .”

“Kingslayer,” he reminded her. “Best use that sword to clean the wax out of your ears, wench. We’re done.”

Stubbornly, she persisted. “Joffrey was your . . .”

now not that I don’t think that jaime wasn’t pushing her also in... outright denial of not wanting her to go, but: now he’s angry at her (when he technically got her angry when he could have not) and wants her to go and he’s telling her again in the sarcasticselfdefense tone and she immediately - immediately - tries to apologize, he shuts her off, doesn’t tell her that the mare is not homely at all, and tells her it’s naught to him when it’s all to him since she knows what his honor means to him, she goes from ‘ser’ (honorific) to ‘jaime’ (personal) and he goes back to ‘nah I’m the kingslayer see that’s all I’ll ever be leave’, except that... she doesn’t leave and she persists, stubbornly, because she actually wants to know, and presses asking about joffrey since she knows he was his father and is most likely still WTFFFFF HE’S BETRAYING HIS FAMILY...

“My king. Leave it at that.”

“You say Sansa killed him. Why protect her?”

Because Joff was no more to me than a squirt of seed in Cersei’s cunt. And because he deserved to die. “I have made kings and unmade them. Sansa Stark is my last chance for honor.” Jaime smiled thinly. “Besides, kingslayers should band together. Are you ever going to go?”

Her big hand wrapped tight around Oathkeeper. “I will. And I will find the girl and keep her safe. For her lady mother’s sake. And for yours.” She bowed stiffly, whirled, and went.

she expects him to say his son? he say ‘his king’ and LEAVE IT AT THAT, giving the idea he doesn’t care, and at that point she goes like okay so why would you protect the person you said killed him, fair question right, which I think on her side was... wanting to see what he’d reply because she’s realizing he won’t answer straight right, and exactly he thinks ‘joffrey deserved it and was nothing to me’ but doesn’t tell her that, he tells her that he made kings and unmade them, fair, and then that sansa is his last chance at honor, and smiles thinly (not hard like before), which suggests he’s visually being sincere, and it’s an answer brienne would get... and then he reminds her that he’s called a kingslayer and she is called one and neither of them actually were in the wrong but they both have bad fame for it and they should band together and pledge their oath, and... brienne gets it because she stops asking questions, takes the sword and goes, but instead of falling for his bait or be angry about being called a kingslayer, she says she’ll fulfill their oath and find sansa for catelyn’s sake and for his sake too, pointing out she’s swearing a vow to him too before she leaves after bowing, which basically seals it...

which means that she walked in with a good impression of him, he challenged it, then she realized it wasn’t wrong and he just was shit as communicating and she’s not... expecting the worse anymore? anytime she thinks of him in affc is as the honorable man who saved her and she swore a vow to and she wishes would be with her on her quest, not as someone she doesn’t trust. so, to go with your questions:

1) brienne still expects the worst from him and thinks he wants her to kill sansa?

as stated from the above: she doesn’t :)

2) can b ever fully trust and love jaime?

she was about to die for him at the end of affc, I think she already does X°D

3) will brienne ever accept that jaime loves her and is capable of good or will she always expect evil from him/ be insecure + expect him to pull a ronnet?

she’s already... not? I mean, accepting he loves her might be a problem because she doesn’t conceive he would as it is and it’d take a while for her to not be insecure, but that he’s capable of good she already does, and she’s way past expecting him to pull a ronnet XD she doesn’t even compare them once like... I don’t see how this would be a thing X°DD

4) i think this will cause problems for them if they ever get together. do you think it would be a deal-breaker?

I don’t because like... okay her being insecure might eventually but honestly she wanted to die for him anon and she was convinced of his good intentions the moment she walked into the room and then he threw her in for a loop and she came out of that even more convinced soooooo no I really don’t think it would XD

[jackoshadows]

The Expanse and GOT Spoilers.

I have been doing The Expanse re-watch to prepare for the best season ever - season 5 - starting on the 16th. And the writing is so good, even for the secondary characters and their relationships. I can’t help but compare it to the garbage writing on the more popular Game of Thrones.

Watching season 3, and the character dynamics between Camina Drummer and Klaes Ashford is what I think Benioff and Weiss wanted between Jon Snow and Sansa Stark in seasons 6 and 7. There is a tug of war for power and leadership between Drummer and Ashford and the same holds true for Jon and Sansa. Scene for scene there are parallels of the conflict between the characters on both shows.

But context matters. Drummer and Ashford actually work because she’s the new, younger leader in charge of the Behemoth and Ashford is the older, more experienced leader who thinks he should lead because of his experience. On the other hand, it does not work at all with Jon and Sansa. In their case, Jon is the older, more experienced and knowledgeable leader and Sansa is the younger sibling trying to make the case that she knows better than him and therefore should be the one making the decisions.

The Expanse actually lays out and explores in detail the conflict between Drummer and Ashford. They spar and argue with witty dialogue and good delivery of lines that makes the case for both of them. Each character knows and is clear about where the other character stands. They know what the other character is trying to do. That makes their scenes exciting and interesting to watch.

Ashford: Camina, you have nothing to worry about from me. I am here to be your first officer and I have no problem with that.

Drummer: You believe you should be in command.

Ashford: Ah, of course I do, but this is not about experience. It's about politics and perception.  Fred has Protomolecule, Dawes has Cortazar, and they both need this ship.  And neither one of them cares if you or I are happy with the arrangement.

Drummer: Ah, finally, some truth.

Ashford: I haven't lied to you...

Drummer: Yet...

Ashford: But my point is that we both have orders to follow, which means we have to work together. For the good of the new Belter state, ke?

We never get a similar scene or confrontation between Jon and Sansa. Sansa hides information about her Vale army from Jon so that she could get the credit of the victory, leading to the needless deaths of thousands. And Jon just shrugs it off with a kiss on the forehead. Imagine if we got a game of thrones in Winterfell between Jon and Sansa - like we got between Tyrion and Cersei in KL? Where both characters know what the other is trying to do and try to outwit each other? But D&D never really committed to what they wanted Sansa to be on the show and their Jon was written as a gullible fool and so we got scenes that made no sense.

Remember when Sansa undermined Jon in front of the other houses and later Arya observes that Sansa was trying to get the Lords on her side rather than Jon’s. Again, the show hesitates to commit to what Sansa is doing. Jon is made out to be the bad guy for requesting that Sansa not undermine him and Arya comes off as being the mean sister for pointing out that Sansa is not supporting her brother.

Meanwhile, on The Expanse, we clearly see what Ashford is doing and so can Drummer.

Sansa wants to punish the children of the traitors. Jon wants to pardon them and give them back their lands. Drummer wants to throw the drug dealers out of the airlock. Ashford disagrees. He asks for a private word with Drummer and orders their audience to step back - he then persuades Drummer to change her mind but it’s clear to the people watching that he made the decision. Both the audience and Drummer can see that Ashford is indeed undermining Drummer here, but he’s more sly about it.

They have several such arguments. Ashford questions Drummer’s decisions within hearing of their men. Ashford wants them to hear his disagreements.

Ashford: Oh, and it's just too bad we don't have our chief engineer to build us some probes.

Drummer: You have something to say?

Ashford: Yeah, I said it. We needed Nagata here, and you let her go.

Drummer: This isn't a slave ship.

Ashford: No, it's a warship. The Belt's first and only.

Drummer: And I'm its captain.

Ashford: Yeah. Yeah, you are.

Drummer: We have a few autonomous farm drones with chemical samplers for soil. We can convert those into probes. A captain must know their ship.  Hmm?

Later one of those men approaches Ashford. He trash talks Drummer to Ashford and insinuates that Ashford should take over.

Diego: Bossmang...

Ashford: Yeah, what's up? What's the problem, Harari?

Diego: I na like da ting Drummer say to you... or how she say it.

Ashford: Uh... a captain can run their ship however they choose to.

Diego: Captain should be you.

Ashford: Tread carefully, good my boy.

Diego: You been bossmang from da time before me or half the Beltalowda on this ship was born.

Ashford: Yeah, that's true. I have. And I've drunk real Earth whiskey out of a UN Admiral's mug and then scuttled her ship. I flew dark past a Martian battle group, and they never even knew I was there. And I've seen friends breathe the vacuum and watched my only child burn. So when I tell you to tread carefully, you would do well to stop talking.

This scene parallels the Northern lords saying that they should have made Sansa queen instead of Jon. Sansa listens to their complaints and then says that Jon is their king and they can only do what he says. We see Arya observing this and later confronts Sansa in a scene where Arya comes off as being unnecessarily harsh and wrong. I am not going back and watching this trash, but if I recall, Arya actually gets angry at Sansa’s fashion choices here! Like why? What does that have to do with anything? What does that have to do with Sansa trying to win favor from the Northern lords while not supporting Jon’s decisions as king? Again, the show never commits to exploring Sansa’s decisions here.

But Drummer knows what Ashford is doing. She’s clever.

Ashford: I understand why you let Nagata go. If I had a chief engineer who didn't want to be here, I wouldn't want them around, either. But she was your friend.

Drummer: She is my friend.

Ashford: No, I always treated my friends harder... harsher, to show the crew I wasn't playing favorites... even if I was.

Drummer: You just can't stop giving me advice, can you?

Ashford: I'm trying to help you.

Drummer: Yet, still you call me out in front of the crew.

Ashford: Yeah, I could've done that better.

Drummer: You did what you meant. You put it in everyone's head. And after I left, I bet you were all praise for me, yeah? How important it is to respect the captain and so on. That way, when the turn come and you take over, they all know it was because you had to. No choice.

Ashford: Oh, we have a problem. And we need to work it out.

Drummer: Or else what?

Oh, how I wish we got this sort of confrontation, conversation, a similar scene between Jon and Sansa after he got back to Winterfell.

And the beautiful thing about Drummer and Ashford is that we can actually see where they are both coming from. They are both looking out for their people, they both want to do right by the belt. The older, more experienced Ashford thinks he should be in charge and knows better than the young whippersnapper Drummer. Smart Drummer is actually capable of being a good leader and can see through what Ashford is trying to do. They end up helping each other. And in the end, Drummer turns out to be right, Ashford acknowledges this and in the next season they work together.

In GOT however, we are just supposed to accept that Sansa is right, despite Jon making the right decisions to tackle the problems facing them. Sansa’s actions are never challenged by anyone. Jon just floats around like a gullible fool and Arya’s real issues with Sansa in season 7 are never again mentioned. And because there is no resolution to the conflicts and drama, in season 8 we get Arya suddenly and inexplicably thinking that Sansa is the smartest ever, Jon continuing to trust the person who lied to him and undermined him and Sansa continues to win despite being wrong about everything.

Drummer and Ashford are secondary characters in The Expanse and yet their character dynamics, the conflict, the resolution is all so well written and played out. Meanwhile, Jon, Sansa, Arya and Bran are all main characters and Littlefinger is a main antagonist and yet that whole story in seasons 6 and 7 was so badly written and nonsensical that it’s absolute trash. Ultimately Benioff and Weiss did not know what they wanted Sansa to be - they wrote her one way, did not want to commit to the character they wrote, and wanted the other characters (and audience) to see her another way.

It’s clear that the writers and showrunners of The Expanse are invested in their characters and good storytelling. And that’s why it’s a far more enjoyable and entertaining show with likeable characters than GOT.

[razieltwelve]

Meeting (Final Rose x GOT)

Ned Stark looked his friend up and down. Robert was the very picture of a mighty king, his  presence filling the courtyard. There was no trace of weariness or weakness about him. His blue eyes were bright, and his powerful frame still rippled with muscle. For a long moment, neither of them said a word, but Robert’s lips twitched ever so slightly.

Robert smirked. “You’ve gotten old, Ned.”

Ned smirked back. “And you’ve gotten fat.”

A shocked silence swept over the courtyard, and then Robert gave that deep, booming laugh of his and lifted Ned clear off his feet in a hug so strong that the Lord of the North feared that his ribs might break.

“Gods, it’s good to see you again.” Robert chuckled and squeezed just enough to make Ned’s ribs creak before setting him back on his feet. “Where have you been all these years?”

Ned made a show of rubbing his ribs. He’d almost forgotten just how strong Robert was. “Keeping the North for you, Your Grace.”

“Hah! And keeping it well if all I’ve heard is true.” Robert threw one arm over Ned’s shoulders and leaned over to whisper in his ear. “We’ve much to talk about, you and I. Your last letter was... interesting.” Then he raised his voice and gestured grandly at the crowd. “A man - and a king - is only as good as his friends. A true and loyal friend is worth more than his weight in gold. I’d not have this crown on my head were it not for the loyalty and friendship of Lord Stark here and all of the North.” There were cries of approval from the crowd, and Robert beamed. “Too few kings have paid heed to the North, but you need never fear that from me and mine. As my wife’s House is so fond of saying: a Lannister always pays his debts... and so does a Baratheon. While my line sits on the throne, the North will always have a friend in the South.”

Ned grinned. It was nice to see that the years had not changed his friend for the worst. He had worried, for a time, that Robert might never overcome his grief at the loss of Lyanna. Yet from the letters they had exchanged, he knew that the birth of Robert’s children had restored his sense of purpose and allowed him to move on. “You have my thanks, Robert. You and yours will always be welcome in the North.”

“And speaking of you and yours, Ned.” Robert nodded at Ned’s children who were standing dutifully nearby. “Introduce me.”

Ned finally managed to pull out of Robert’s grasp. “I should start with my wife first. You remember Catelyn, I’m sure.”

Robert grinned. “As beautiful as I remember.” He nudged Ned and glanced over his shoulder at Cersei. “We’re lucky men, Ned. Both of us lords and with pretty ladies to boot.”

Ned and the queen both shook their heads in fond exasperation. Catelyn, of course, adopted a more polite approach. “You honour me with your words, Your Grace.”

“None of that,” Robert said. “And you too, Ned. I’ve too many people already toadying up to me and calling me Your Grace. I don’t need it from either of you. I’ve no better or more loyal a friend than you. Call me Robert, both of you.” He embraced Catelyn. “Thank you for keeping an eye on Ned here. He likes to think he’s the sensible one out of us, but I remember growing up beside him at the Aerie...”

“And moving on,” Ned said quickly. Both he and Robert had ample stories of childhood misdeeds, but his friend had seized the initiative as he was wont to do. “My eldest, Robb.”

“Ah, my namesake.” Robert studied Robb. “You’ve the look of your mother, lad, but there’s steel in those eyes of yours.” He glanced at Ned. “Blooded, is he?”

“Aye,” Ned admitted. “Helped saved his younger brother from Wildings.”

“Good lad.” Robert squeezed Robb’s shoulder. “A man should protect his family.” He shifted his attention to Ned. “I’ve heard mutterings of the Wildlings stirring. We can talk about it later, but if you need help, you’ll get it.” He glanced past Robb to Sansa. “And who is this lovely young lady?”

“Sansa, Your Grace.” Sansa gave the king a perfect curtsy, and Robert beamed.

“A perfect lady, just like her mother.” Robert looked to the two younger boys beside her. “And unless my memory fails me, then, from your letters, Ned, these must be Bran and Rickon.”

“Aye.” Ned said. “Bran’s got a clever head on his shoulders and Rickon...” He chuckled. “And Rickon is still young.”

“You’re really big,” Rickon said, staring at Robert.

Robert threw his head back and laughed. “That I am, lad. I doubt you’ll ever be my size, but there’s plenty of growing in you, I think.” He paused. “Ned... didn’t you have two more, or am I remembering your letters wrong?”

“Uh...” Ned breathed a sigh of relief as Lyara finally returned, all but dragging Arya. His youngest daughter had, of course, decided that the best time to take a tumble in a muddy puddle was right before meeting the king.

Robert stared at the pair for a long, long moment. Ned could understand his shock. Lyara resembled his sister in many ways although, objectively speaking, Ned could admit that she was fairer, having inherited much of Catelyn’s classical beauty to go with the wild charm his sister had possessed. Then he shook himself, and his shoulders began to heave as he took in the sight of Arya covered in mud.

“Hahahaha...” Robert had to reach up to wipe tears from his eyes. “Oh, Ned, this reminds me of... before.”

Ned mentally breathed a sigh of relief. Another king might have been insulted, but Robert wasn’t like other kings. “Aye. Arya has a knack for trouble.” He put a mock scowl on his face, and he had to fight to hide his smile as Arya quailed. Robert noticed what he was doing and only laughed harder. “Greet the king, Arya.”

“I... uh... welcome to Winterfell, Your Grace.” Arya did her best to sketch a curtsy and failed miserably. Catelyn covered her face with one hand. 

“So...” Robert finally got his mirth under control. “Tell me, girl, what do you favour, the sword, the axe, or the spear?”

Arya stared at him in shock, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she’d heard. And then she smiled, the brilliant, wonderfully warm smile that Ned could honestly say would be breaking hearts in several years. “The sword, Your Grace! There is no better weapon than a sword!”

“Oh? I favour the war hammer myself.” Robert smiled indulgently. “Perhaps you could show me your skills while I’m here, or perhaps test them against one of my sons.”

“Really?” Arya’s eyes shone. “I’d love to!” She paused and then quickly added. “Your Grace.”

Robert hesitated for a moment and then reached out to ruffle her hair. “She reminds me of Lyanna, Ned.” There was a trace of grief in the words, but Ned was relieved to hear it accompanied by fondness too. Robert would likely always mourn Lyanna, but he had also moved on. Robert’s gaze shifted to Lyara. “And you must be Lyara.”

“Aye, Your Grace.” Lyara met his gaze, and Ned was only mildly surprised to see that there was none of the awe in it that people usually had when they met Robert. Instead, there was only measured calm. It was as though she’d taken Robert’s measure and had been satisfied by what she saw. “It is an honour to meet the man my father calls his dearest friend.”

Robert’s lips twitched. “A wolf indeed, Ned.” Ned had mentioned in more than one of his letters that he’d always thought the wolf’s blood was thickest in Lyara. “They call you the Rose of the North. Mind explaining the title?”

Lyara’s eyes gleamed. “A rose is known for it’s beauty... and its thorns, Your Grace.”

“She’s the finest swordsman in the North!” Arya cried before Catelyn frantically moved to shush her.

“Is that so?” Robert rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “My eldest is supposed to be a prodigy for his age, as skilled a warrior as any youth. Perhaps you’d care to test his mettle.”

“Perhaps.” 

Robert tossed Ned an amused glance. They were likely both thinking the same thing. A match between their House would be perfect. “Well, now that I’ve met your lot, allow me to introduce my lot.”

X     X     X

Edward, who had once been Diana, bit back a chuckle as another one of the Lannister guards did his best to impress Lyara Stark only to end up disarmed and face down in the mud. 

“Gods,” Tyrion muttered. “That’s the fifth one already. I know Elric. He’s no Arthur Dayne, but he’s no slouch either. All that talk of her being the finest sword in the North might actually be true.”

“Well, the North has never been much given to exaggeration.” And if his suspicions were true, there was a reason none of the young men eager to impress her had gotten anywhere. It was a pity that he hadn’t managed to corner her for a private conversation, but the royal family had been pulled into a whirlwind of activity after arriving at Winterfell. “If they say she’s damn good, then she’s damn good.”

“Are you going to try your luck, nephew?” Tyrion asked. “Although you must surely be aware of what your father is thinking.”

Edward was indeed aware. If his suspicions were correct - and the more he watched Lyara fight, the more certain he grew - then this could get extremely awkward. “Even so, I’d like to test my blade against hers.”

“And it seems you may just have your chance.” Tyrion chuckled. “Best of luck.”

As Edward accepted the wooden practice sword and stepped into the arena, a pair of Lannister guards dragged the unfortunate Elric over to a nearby bench to recover. 

“Don’t take her lightly,” Ser Barristan murmured as Edward passed him. “She’s good, Your Highness, amongst the best I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s a good thing, then, that I’m also amongst the best you’ve ever seen.” Edward’s lips curled up into a smile. “Wish me luck.”

Ser Barristan grinned. “Good luck.”

“Your Highness.” Lyara greeted him with a nod. Edward’s father had always insisted on no special treatment for him in the training yard. He was to be a proper warrior, not a coddled prince. 

“My lady.” Edward took up his stance, vaguely aware that they had already begun to draw an audience. He was widely considered one of the finest swordsmen in the realm despite his tender age, and already the only ones who could challenge him with a blade were his uncle and Ser Barristan. “Shall we?”

“Any rules?” Lyara asked.

“Well, obviously, we won’t be fighting to the death,” Edward said as he began to circle, drawing laughter from the crowd. His sword whipped out, lightning fast, only to be parried just as quickly before a riposte forced him to lean to the side. He found his smile widening. He knew that riposte. It was one of the very first moves he’d learned from his mother in his previous life. “And fighting until first blood might be problematic since we’re using wooden weapons. I daresay, we’d have to club each other halfway into the grave.”

“That would be unfortunate, yes.” Lyara skipped forward, as swift and easy on her feet as a bird in flight. Her blade went high and then low before a feint to his mid-section was followed by a thrust to his exposed shoulder. Edward blocked the first two blows and then dodged the third. He was definitely grinning like an idiot now. He knew that sequence. It was a training sequence the Yun had often used to teach the importance of seeing through feints. From the faint smile on Lyara’s face, he could tell she’d noticed the ease with which he’d dealt with her attacks - as though he’d known what they would be.

Well, it was time to give her something to think about. “A point match then,” he said. “With blows pulled before contact. I think we both have the control for that.”

“Aye.”

“Then... have at thee.” Abandoning his lackadaisical stance, Edward closed the distance between them. His sword rose and fell with all the force of a sledgehammer, swift, sharp, punishing blows that were nevertheless perfectly controlled and without overextension. It was a training sequence from a Yun sword form melded with the techniques of his previous’s life’s mother. If Lyara was who he thought she was, she would recognise it in a heartbeat.

The light of recognition in her eyes made Edward’s heart soar. He’d feared he might be alone in this new world with none of his friends or family from his previous life. Yet the ease with which she parried the blows, the way she evaded the strikes she knew would be coming, it was practically confirmation. Still, he couldn’t resist pushing harder.

Diana had spent her entire life testing herself against Averia. Edward wanted to see how good Lyara really was.

X     X     X

“Gods,” Robert muttered as he watched Edward and Lyara fight their way around the training area. “The lad’s been holding back on us.”

Beside him, Ser Barristan was watching everything with a critical eye. Despite his calm demeanour, Robert could tell that the old knight was excited. Ever since the death of Arthur Dayne, Barristan had been acknowledged as the greatest swordsman in Westeros. Even Jaime could admit that while he was close to the older man’s equal, Barristan still held an edge. Yet the way Edward was fighting now, Robert could sense the same thing Barristan could.

He might finally have met his match, or possibly even his superior.

And the fact that Lyara was matching him blow for blow...

“She’s a wonder, Ned,” Robert said. “You’re a good swordsman, yourself, but this...”

Ned nodded sombrely. “I don’t know where she gets it, Robert. There’s no swordsman in the North her equal. It’s as if the gods themselves gave her a gift.” 

“Aye.” Robert found himself smirking. “But look at the pair of them. They’re doing their best to beat each other’s heads in, but they’re having the time of their lives.”

It was true. Despite the intensity of their spar, both Edward and Lyara were smiling although the girl’s expression was more reserved. They were talking as they fought although the clatter of their wooden swords made it impossible for Robert to tell what they were saying. Still, he couldn’t help but smile. He’d hoped that Edward and Lyara might get along, but this? This was beyond his wildest expectations.

“They’re bloody flirting,” Robert said, chuckling. 

Ned stared for a long moment before shaking his head. “By the gods, Robert, I think you might be right.”

Suddenly, Edward and Lyara broke apart. They were both sweating, but neither of them looked as though they wanted to stop. 

“Spear,” Edward barked curtly. “Someone get us a pair of spears.”

A blunted spear was soon tossed to the prince, and Robert felt pride swell in his chest as his boy handled the weapon like he was born to it. Likewise, a spear was soon tossed to Lyara as well, and she too handled the weapon with aplomb.

“Shall we continue?” Lyara asked.

Edward’s grin was pure Baratheon. “With pleasure.”

X     X     X

“Did you see it?” Arya cried, tugging on Jon’s arm excitedly. “Did you see it?”

“Aye,” Jon replied, chuckling. “And I’m glad I did.” He’d always known that his sister held back when they sparred, but he’d never realised just how much until she and the prince had fought. Gods, it was like watching something out of a story or a legend. “It was a draw, though, since neither of them managed to land a decent hit.”

“Well, I think she won,” Arya proclaimed. “Maybe they’ll have a rematch.”

Jon thought of the light he’d seen in both their eyes when they’d been fighting. Oh, they’d have a rematch. It was like they’d been waiting their whole lives to meet each other and were overjoyed to finally meet. “We’ll see.” He ruffled Arya’s hair. “Did you see my match?”

Arya nodded. “You fought Ser Barristan!”

“I lost.” Jon shook his head in wonder. The knight was every bit the legend people said he was.

“But he complimented you. He said you fought well and everything,” Arya replied. “And I don’t think he would have lied. He didn’t seem like the type of person to lie.”

“No, no, he didn’t.” The words were still warm in Jon’s heart. To be praised by a man like Ser Barristan! And his father had squeezed his shoulder and complimented him on his fine showing as he’d left the sparring arena. 

“And Robb didn’t do too badly either,” Arya said. “Not that he won.”

“He was fighting Ser Jaime,” Jon said. “Robb’s good, but Ser Jaime might be the second-best swordsman in the realm behind Ser Barristan.” Or behind his sister and Prince Edwards, Jon thought. “Still, he did well. Ser Jaime seemed to think so, anyway.”

“Well, I can’t wait to fight the king.” Arya folded her arms across her chest. “You, Robb, and Lyara have all gotten to show off. I’d like a chane to show what I can do.”

“Try not to kill him,” Jon japed. “He’s father’s friend and a good ruler, by all accounts.”

“I’ll be merciful,” Arya said before lowering her voice. “I do hope he takes it easy on me.”

The king had sparred a few bouts himself. Jon had been shocked not just by the raw strength the king possessed, but his speed. No man that large and that strong should be able to move so swiftly. It was clear, too, that he was pulling his blows. Had he struck with anything even close to his full strength, then even the padded, wooden war hammer he’d wielded would have crushed his opponents in a single blow. 

Jon had heard tales of how Robert had struck down Prince Rhaegar during the Battle of the Trident. Seeing the man in action, it was easy to imagine the Targaryen going down beneath a storm of blows from the Baratheon’s mighty hammer.

“Of course, he will, Arya. You’ve seen him around the others. He’s not cruel. Why, he even agreed to spar Bran, and he handled him as kindly as father does.”

Bran, of course, had been starstruck at the thought of sparring the king, and Robert had humoured him, offering words of advice and encouraging the lad to do his best before ending the bout with a simple disarm.

“Look.” Arya huffed and pointed. “They’re talking again.”

Jon followed her gaze and bit back a chuckle. Arya was so used to having their sister’s attention that he wasn’t surprised she was a bit put out at the amount of talking Lyara and the prince had done. It was like they were old friends catching up after a long time apart or something. Yet from the expression on his sister’s face and the warmth in her gaze, it was clear the pair were truly getting along.

Jon smiled. He’d always worried that his fierce, wise sister might struggle to find a man who could appreciate her. Yet everything he’d heard about the prince suggested that he might be precisely such a man. More than anything, he wanted her to be happy. Yet, he would keep a close eye, as would Robb. If the prince were to do anything untoward, well, they’d have to step in. But if he proved to be an honourable man who would make their sister happy? Well, they’d welcome him... after a bit of threatening, of course.

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

You asked for more, so here it is.

Uh oh. People are really getting the wrong impression. Just wait until Edward and Lyara realise what they’ve done. It was also nice writing this version of Robert who is really the king he could have been rather than the king he ended up being. More intrigue to follow. Perhaps a peek into the Sealord’s court or what’s going on Beyond the Wall.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

I also write original fiction, which you can find on Amazon here or on Audible here.

[bigdaddib]

Gendry Who? pt2

So, lol, this is from like so so long ago and I didn’t update it cause it started getting so much longer than I ever intended it to. I did make a part 2 though, from Gendry’s pov. If anyone’s still interested, here ya go

“Arya’s recital is next week, you coming?”

 Gendry had long since conditioned himself to not respond too dramatically when her name was mentioned. Instead, he withdrawals so deep within himself even he couldn’t tell you where to find him. “Wouldn’t you be bringing Ygritte?” Gendry asked, not pausing as he shoveled down cereal and scrolled through his phone.

 “Yeah, but she invited you too, she just has to know so she can reserve us a seat.”

 This, however, Gendry did not prepare himself for. His spoon, just as it was about to enter his mouth, became so still not even a drop of milk spilled over the sides. His thumb hovered over his phone screen, eyes unblinking but not seeing anything around him.

 Sure, she had said she had forgiven him. And, sure, he had believed her because she was Arya. If she didn’t forgive you, if she harbored any negative emotions toward you, you knew about it. But he didn’t think her forgiveness would change anything, as much as he had hoped it might. He had played multiple scenarios in his head on how it might, he had no choice in the matter. Letting his mind wander meant fantasizing about seeing Arya again, eyes soft and caring as she opened her arms so they could simply pick up where they left off two years ago. Thinking of what it would be like to kiss her again, even if it were just for a second…

 Even if it were just on the cheek.

 Those cheek kisses were what he had lived on. He’d be anxious for the end of the night because he knew he had a kiss on the cheek waiting for him. He’d need that kiss, since it was all he had to carry him through until the next time he saw her, then the cycle would continue. It was so easy to get caught up in that routine again, just one kiss on the cheek from her and he was left pressing his fingers to that spot dreamily an entire month after. He was fully prepared to rely on that last kiss for the rest of his fucking life. Forgiving him didn’t mean taking him back, and he had no right to ask for her back, he barely had the right to ask for forgiveness. It was a blessing that he managed that, especially with the way he had went about it. Jerking her around, stuttering his stupid arse off, it was a wonder she understood him at all, he sure as hell didn’t understand himself. He never understood himself when he was dealing with her, never knew what the right thing to do was.

 Seeing her through the rain on the side of the road, angrily kicking her flat tire, the right thing to do was to help her out. When it turned out she was Arya Stark, famous rebellious daughter to Ned and Catelyn Stark, openly defying their wishes by pursuing ballet, the right thing to do was help her out and not expect anything in return. People must do things for her all the time, expecting some sort of favor in exchange. He wanted to show the small girl with wide grey eyes and soaked through dark clothes that he didn’t want anything from her, didn’t expect anything.

 Then she had kissed him on the cheek.

 “She…invited me?” was all he was able to say.

 Jon raised a brow. “Did something happen between you two?”

 Gendry’s overwhelming first instinct was to say “no!” Of course not! Why would he even think that?! Arya and him…they were nothing, he had helped her out with her car and her wifi and one time with her mysteriously broken bed frame and that was all they had to do with each other…

 But that sort of thinking was what had gotten him into this situation, wasn’t it?

 If he had simply answered these types of questions honestly, where would he be now? With Arya? Waiting outside her dorm room to take her to a quick lunch between classes? Walking hand in hand with her down the street, feeling her tucked into his side?

 Embarrassing her?

 He winced. He had to stop that. She wasn’t embarrassed by things like he was, she didn’t care, so why should he? If she was willing to let Gendry drag her down to his level, then he should be too. Whatever people said, whatever their questions and whatever their jokes, they shouldn’t bother him because he had her. He had her tucked in next to him, hand in hand, getting a sandwich before she had to head back to practice…

 Except he wasn’t, because he couldn’t. He couldn’t let himself have her without thinking she would one day wake up and realize she had been wasting herself away on him. Realize all the shit and jokes she would have to take for him weren’t worth it and she would leave. So he had to leave first, he had to make sure no one would know what sort of loser Arya was running around with so that maybe Arya wouldn’t figure it out either.

 That wasn’t quite how things worked out though.

 “What do you mean?” Gendry said, finally putting the spoon into his mouth.

 “I mean…you guys never talk anymore, and you got kind of weird just a second ago.”

 Gendry cleared his throat, set his phone down. “No…I just…you know she knows ballet’s not my sort of thing. But, uh, yeah, I’ll go. If she wants me to.” Honestly, he’d go anywhere if she wanted him to.

 Jon nodded, grabbed his jacket and keys. He’d come over this morning to give Gendry his flat keys, but Gendry had said he didn’t need them. He trusted Jon enough to live with him for two years, he trusted him enough to keep a spare set of keys.

 “Then I’ll meet you there, yeah?” Jon turned to look at Gendry as he opened the door to leave.

 Gendry only nodded and didn’t move after Jon left.

 Did this mean she wanted to be friends? Or was she only being polite?

 No. If Arya didn’t want him there she wouldn’t invite him. That’s the way she was, she was blunt and straight forward. Which is why what he did to her was so difficult all around. The lying and sneaking around may have been fun for her the first month or two, but when they started getting into the “I love you’s” and holding each other all night, it probably got a bit redundant. He could feel it, he could feel her frustration with him, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Numerous times he found himself at her door with full intentions to simply give up and be with her, to not think about it so much. But then she’d open the door and he’d be struck by her smile and by her eyes and know deep, deep down, with everything in him, that he didn’t deserve her. He never would. No one did, but especially not him.

He’d never seen her dance before. Of course, he knew she did it professionally. The entire bloody world knew that. He assumed she was good at it. With her passion for it and the way she blatantly disregarded her parent’s wishes for her in order to do it, her skill was the last thing to questioned. He never felt he needed to watch her in action, he already knew everything he needed to know. Ballet, though he never took the time to watch anyone do it, was boring anyway. It must be, or else more people would say otherwise.

 Obviously, he was wrong.

 Although, he was biased. If it had been anyone else besides Arya dancing on that stage, he probably wouldn’t have been nearly as interested. But she was, and he couldn’t even find the time to blink. He had to watch the almost liquid way her body moved across the stage. Bent and twirled, leaped and stretched. Gendry knew Arya’s body well, probably better than he knew his own, and he liked to think he knew its limitations, but he never truly grasped its potential. What had he been doing, throwing her legs over his shoulders? Watching her back arch against a wall? What did any of that prove? He should’ve been driving her to practice, watch her dance every damn day. Not doing so was a fucking waste of time.

 He was confused when it was intermission, even more so when he saw Jon snoring peacefully next to him. Angrily, Gendry shoved at his shoulder. “What’s wrong with you?” he barked.

 Jon blinked dazedly. “Sorry, you won’t tell her, will you?”

 Gendry rolled his eyes, feeling genuinely angry. How in all seven hells had Jon managed to fall asleep? Was he even watching? If Arya asked and Jon said she was wonderful, he would set the record straight. Besides, Arya was the one person he couldn’t lie to, not really. He could lie to Jon, he could even lie to himself, but not to her. Not to those big grey eyes.

 Gendry found he was too angry to hold up conversation with Jon, so he excused himself to go to the bathroom.

 The second half of the ballet seemed to be going just as good, if not better, than the first half. Gendry found himself leaning as far forward as he was able, watching as Arya’s body flowed just as easily and languidly as the silken dress they had put her in, knowing her very skin felt just as smooth.

 When she fell onto her right ankle it took everything in him not to climb onto that stage and carry her off.

 It took her two attempts to get back up, everyone around her kept up with the routine but it was all a bit awkward considering she was the lead dancer.

 Gendry’s knuckles turned white as he saw her wince for the first time since knowing her. It stirred something different in him, something protective and fierce. He’d felt something similar to it once before, seeing her cry for the first time.

 He hadn’t registered it at first, the single tear glistening down her cheek. He thought it was a trick of the light, a reflection off the window, anything but a genuine tear. Anything but a tear coming from Arya Stark’s eye. That simply wasn’t possible, Arya Stark didn’t cry, she couldn’t, wouldn’t let herself. But she was, and it was because of him. Fuck, if everything in him didn’t crumble into dust.

 Arya wasn’t crying now. She was getting back up, dancing on that ankle he was sure he heard crack. And she kept dancing, right up to the very end. Gendry hadn’t taken a solid breath the rest of the performance, holding it for something horrible to happen, and when it was finally over he stood up in an immediate search for her.

 Eventually, he found her in the dressing room, foot elevated and head in her hands. It was swollen an angry read, an ice pack rested on top of it. There was a man whispering in her ear, hand rubbing up and down her back. Gendry paused at the sight, Jon halting just behind his shoulder.

 “Arya?” Jon called out.

 Dejectedly, Arya lifted her head. Only her tired grey eyes visible. Gendry’s feet started walking toward her.

 “You’re Arya’s family?” The man straightened up, back straight and shoulders broad. If Gendry was making assumptions, he’d say he was one of Arya’s dance teachers.

 “We are,” Jon answered and Gendry’s chest tightened. He added nothing to contradict him.

 “She should be fine. We had the doctor come in and—”

 “I can speak for myself Jaqen,” Arya snapped. Jaqen’s only response was a sigh, brought his hand back to her bare shoulder.

 “I’ll check up on you later,” he whispered and Arya’s only response was to rest her head back into her hands. Jaqen smiled tensely toward Jon and Gendry before leaving.

 “Are you alright?” Jon was the first to ask, walking around Gendry and kneeling in front of her.

 “No. I fucking blew it,” she bit out. “No company will hire me now, its fucking over.”

 No one knew what to say, it was quiet for a moment. Then Jon tried, “You were beautiful up until then, Arya, I’m sure they’ll see that.”

 Gendry let him say it, she didn’t need to hear that Jon had actually been napping the whole time.

 “It’s fucking whatever,” her voice was violent, yet very tired. “I’ll just go to real college or something. The world is at my fingertips and all that. This is a sign I shouldn’t throw it all away,” she made it obvious she wasn’t serious about any of the words she was saying.  

 Gendry wanted nothing more than to go over and hold her as tightly. Maybe even let her cry on his shoulder, if she felt comfortable enough. He could feel it, her warmth pressed into him, her head nestled into his neck. Maybe it wouldn’t make her feel better, but he would.

 “Can you…can you just bring the car around or something?” Arya spoke up. “I just want to get out of here.”

 “Right. Right, Gendry, stay with her. I’ll text you when I’m out front,”

 Jon left and Gendry promised he wouldn’t be the first to speak. He wouldn’t push her.

 “Can you leave?” she whispered.

 His heart shattered. “…Wh—why?”

 “Because…because…” her voice cracked. She paused to release a heavy, shaky breath. “I can’t hold myself together around you.”

 Something close to hope warmed him, and he let that propel him to kneel beside her as Jon did. It was a reflex to smooth a hand over her temple. “What are you holding yourself together for?” he whispered.

 Arya shrugged in response.

 “I won’t tell anyone that you’re upset if that’s what you’re worried about.”

 Arya shook her head. “It’s not everyone else…I don’t wanna know.”

 Gendry took a second to collect her meaning. “You don’t want to know you’re upset?” he clarified.

 Slowly, Arya nodded.

 “Alright, I won’t tell you either,” he agreed easily.

 Arya’s shoulders shook in a dry laugh, revealing a dark, glistening grey eye. On the verge of tears. He rubbed a thumb over her brow bone. “Your secret’s safe with me,” he whispered. In movement a similar to the leaps she made on stage, she was in his arms. Head buried into his neck and fingers clawing at his back, she clutched him to her desperately.

 Her entire body shook with her sobs and he felt his shirt absorb her hot tears, he was proud to hold her through it. It’s what he should’ve done that first time. He should’ve held her, all night if that’s how long it lasted. How long had she cried? He wondered that often. Was it all night? Did it carry into the morning? Was it no more than a second?

 He himself found himself crying through an entire month. Alone in his room, often in the middle of his dreams. He’d wake up sniffling, laying on a wet pillow. That was different, though. He deserved it, she didn’t.

 He had cried into that voicemail.

 He wanted to ask about it, during the party. He wanted to know if she had gotten it, half hoping she hadn’t. He had immediately regretted it, once it was sent. A month later and he was still staring anxiously at his phone for a response, any response. A fuck off, an lol, anything at all, anything but that horrible silence. Because Arya Stark was never silent on things she cared about, and didn’t she care about him?

 He hadn’t brought it up, obviously, because what would she say? What could she say to make him feel better? That she hadn’t gotten it? Maybe, but in retrospect her knowing his pain was a different sort of comfort. He wanted her to know he had truly cared for her, wanted to be with her, he wasn’t simply jerking her around. Whether or not that changed anything between them didn’t matter, as long as she knew that.

 And if she had listened to it? What then? What more was there to say? She had heard him break and decided to leave him there and that was that. No response told him all he needed to know, no use in opening old wounds.

 Except now, holding her, all of his wounds were open and pulsing and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Gendry’s phone buzzed which was probably Jon telling them he was out front. They didn’t move.

 “I don’t suppose you’d let me carry you?” He tried, dreading watching her limp all the way to Jon’s car.

 “Actually,” her voice was breathless and ragged, voice raw from sobbing. “I really don’t think I can walk on it. I already overworked it.”

 Gendry was oddly excited. “I could…is there a back door or something? We could sneak out front.”

 Arya pulled back enough to gift him a small smile. Nodding, she said, “I’ll tell you where to go.”

[show-choir-gal]

GoT Preference - How He Asks You On A Date (Male)

Guide: Y/N - Your Name -------------------------------------------------

Robb - He asked you on a date after you were done teaching Arya how to shoot a bow and arrow You finished up teaching Arya how to shoot a bow and arrow for the day. She was so elated and couldn't stop thanking you. You rubbed her head and told her to run along and enjoy the rest of the day. You put the weapons away and you started to head to your house, you ended up running into Robb right as you left the shooting range. "Mind if I walk with you?" Robb asked as he held out his arm. "Not at all." You replied with a smile as you grabbed his arm. You two walked and talked for what seemed like hours. Robb was very interested in you, more than he ever has before but you didn't mind. He was asking a lot about your life before coming to Winterfell and how you got so good at bow and arrow, He really seemed to care and want to know more about you so you kept on talking. You two eventually made it to your house. You were just about to enter when Robb spoke up, "Y/N, I was wondering if you would like to go on a date with me tomorrow? If not, that's okay. I would understand.." Rob asked as he started stammering. You walked closer to him and kissed his cheek, "Calm down Robb, I would love to go on a date with you." You replied as you went inside and waved goodbye. Robb blushed and waved goodbye as you entered your house.

Jon - He asked you on a date after he found you and Theon at the Godswood Jon had heard enough, he cleared his throat loudly to assert his presence. You and Theon quickly turned around and you wiped off all the tears on your face. Theon started stammering, "How long have you been there?" "Long enough to hear everything... Theon, can you leave me and Y/N alone for a few?" Jon asked. "Of course." Theon said as he stood up. He wiped a tear off your cheek and kissed the crown of your head as Jon walked closer to where you were sitting. "What exactly did you hear?" You asked. "I'm pretty sure I heard everything..." Jon said as he started to trail off. There was a few minutes of awkward and tense silence. Neither of you knew where to start, but after a while Jon spoke up. "I don't hate you. It's the exact opposite.... I'm really sorry about how much I've pushed you away. I didn't mean to, I really didn't. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you. I promise Y/N..." You interrupted with tears streaming down your face, "Then why did you? Why did you push me away? You hurt me Jon, you really hurt me." "I know, I know I hurt you. I just...I...I can't say why right now..." Jon pulled you in for a hug and he started to run his fingers through your hair, "I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you..." You pulled Jon in tighter as you finally let all the emotions out. You love him and you can't be upset at him for long. You eventually pulled away and looked at Jon in the eyes, Jon started to wipe your tears away. "I really like you Y/N, and I would like to ask you if you wanted to go on a date with me?" Jon asked as he wiped the last tear away off of your face. You were taken aback, a bit surprised at the question but you blushed and smiled, "I would love to go on a date with you." You replied.

Ramsay - He asked you on a date the day before you were due to leave the Dreadfort You were packing up your supplies when you heard a knock on your door. "You can come in." You replied as you kept packing your sewing supplies. The door opened and you looked up to see Lord Bolton's Bastard, Ramsay. "Oh hello, I wasn't expecting to see you here," You said as you closed your bag and looked at him, "Is there an issue with a garment?" You asked. Ramsay blushed and smiled at the floor, "No, no. Not a thing is wrong, they're actually quite lovely and comfortable..." "Is there an issue with anything else?" You asked with a concerned tone. "Uh no, well...yes and no... The only issue I can for-see is that we're not going on a date before you leave." Ramsay said as he cocked an eyebrow. You blushed and smiled, "Would you like that to be changed?" You asked. "I suppose I would... Would you like to go on a date with me tonight?" Ramsay asked, looking shy for the first time ever. "Of course I would." You replied with a smile.

Tormund - He asked you on a date the day after the Battle of Castle Black As Jon and others were helping collect the deceased, you were helping attend to the wounded after a long sleepless night. You were helping person after person making sure that everyone was at the very least okay. You checked on Jon and the others at the big table trying to discuss the plans to move forward and what to do next. You suggested that everyone should try try to rest tonight so everyone has a clear mind and time to reflect and relax. Everyone agreed and started to leave, you were staying back and just staring into the fire roaring in the fireplace. You felt like you were just staring for hours when you were startled by a voice behind you. "I'm sorry to scare you, but you should go to bed." Tormund said as he stepped toward you. "It's okay, I guess I was just lost in my thoughts. I needed someone to snap me out of it." You replied with a smile and a chuckle. You started to head out and Tormund followed you and  you talked until you arrived at your room. You were about to say goodnight when Tormund spoke up abruptly, "I was wonderin' if you would like to go on a date with me when the time comes." He said very abruptly as he blushed. You chuckled, "I would love to go on a date with you Tormund. Have a goodnight." You replied with a smile and you closed your door behind you.

Gendry - He asked you on a date one random afternoon after he got done working You had been spending a lot more time at your fathers shop learning how to create weapons and dabbling in learning how to create armour and helmets. Your father has enjoyed you getting out and secretly trying to get you and Gendry to talk to each other. He likes Gendry, he approves of you liking Gendry. One afternoon, your father sent Gendry home early so he can attend to your mother. You ran into Gendry and you two started to walk together. You two were just chatting about the day and the week and other mundane things. You offered to cook Gendry dinner since you two lost track of time and it's about dinner time. Gendry agreed and went to your house and you cooked just a simple but delicious meal and you two sat in the loft of the barn. You two were enjoying the meal when Gendry suddenly looked up at you. "Can I ask you a question?" He asked. "Of course you can." You replied. "Would you like to go on a date sometime...with me?" He started to blush, and so did you. "I would love to." You replied as a smile grew across your face.

Podrick - He asked you on a date the day before Joffrey's wedding After another extravagant dinner at King's Landing with all the other nobles, you made your way to the garden and just walked as you soaked in the moonlight. You were strolling through the garden gracefully for what seemed like hours. You were looking at the Lady's Lace when you heard someone clear their throat behind you, you jumped and looked at who was behind you, it was Podrick. "Podrick, you made me jump out of my skin." You said with a bit of a giggle as you sat down on a bench. "I'm sorry m'lady. I was hoping you would turn around and see me but you seemed to be in your own world and I didn't want to disrupt that." Podrick said as he sat down next to you. You both sat together in an awkward silence for what seemed like forever before Podrick spoke up. "Are you interested in anyone? Like, romantically?" Podrick asked with a bit of shakiness coming through. You thought for a moment before replying, "I suppose so, now that I think about it... But I don't think he is interested in me back." You and Podrick looked at each other. "Maybe... tomorrow night, after the wedding, we could spend some time together...alone...?" Podrick asked, blush starting to form on his cheeks. You smiled, "If you're asking me on a date, then my answer is yes." You replied.

[black-streak]

Waiting for the Worms - Hey You

Part 15

I had planned to be so much further in the plot by this chapter and yet here we are. I don't want to say this is a filler chapter, because the reunion of the team and all is important but like, nothing exciting happens here. Very tame. Don't expect anything crazy. That's next chapter.

Special thanks to @cassiopeiathequeen for reading this over for me when I second guessed if I should even post this one or not.

CLOSED list of dinner specials (I'm tired, shush): @northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @miraculousdisapointment @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @dast218 @lysslovsanime @emilytopaz @naoryllis @iloontjeboontje @thepeacetea @danielslilangel @finallyaniguana @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @vixen-uchiha @yuulxd @bleeding-heart-romantic @magic-inthe-stars @st0rmy-w1th1n

~---~

It took a moment for anyone to move, all still looking back and forth between Jason and her, as though unsure how to proceed.

While they took their sweet time figuring it out, Damian glanced at Jason, then back to her, "I see what you meant now. This will take time to adjust to."

"Oh?" She inquired, a quirk to her eyebrow.

"I keep looking to him, but that isn't correct, is it? It's annoying to think I might accidentally treat him as I treat you just because his flesh prison is the one I am accustomed to."

"Would that be so terrible?" She offered, face barely hinting at amusement.

"Yes."

Chuckling, she drew him closer into her lap where he allowed himself to huddle close, turning to watch the masses once more.

Jason, a state of content shock, kept their hands tightly bound, watching the two before him interact with such ease. Meanwhile the others only just now found the nerve to move fully into the living room, very aware of the two sets of eyes observing them. One pair, they thought they were used to, had seen almost everyday for years, but the glow to them was different. Electric green seemed to spark through the vivid blue, dangerous and wild. 

Kagami never felt fear as a civilian, especially after having been a superhero for so long. Had never felt threatened or like an easy target, but those eyes on her suddenly made her feel like prey in the sights of a killer. The dark green eyes set below only added to this.

Juleka couldn't explain how on edge the little boy put her. His hardened eyes never strayed from their little group, harsh and judging. No child should be so intimidating or coiled so tight, as though to pounce. The protective arms wrapped around him seemed less for their safety, but rather hinted at more than one opponent should things go downhill.

Marc suddenly had a new idea for a story about a lone wolf and her wolf cub, living in the wilderness, avoiding conflict but capable of taking down even the mightiest of warriors. They could wager a guess where that idea came from as they stood behind the armchair Kagami placed herself in, Chloe sitting on the arm of it, Juleka sitting on the carpet between her feet.

As for Chloe, she simply stared at who she could only assume was Jason. That tall, ridiculously muscled man, with his white streak and swimming teal eyes was who they had fought alongside so long? How in the hell did he pull off a tiny little teenage girl for so long? How old was this guy even to have such a scarred, built body? What had Mari been through in her time as him? She couldn't help it, she needed to know.

"Jason, how old are you?"

He startled in his seat, turning to look at her, "uh, well I was a year older than her, so eighteen, I guess."

"Seventeen and a half," Marinette corrected.

"But he said-"

"You don't continue aging in a dead body."

She answered so matter of fact, so flippantly, they fell silent once more. Kagami was the first to regain her bearings.

"Must you be so blunt about it?"

Those eyes swung to focus in on her, sharp with challenge, "Why not?"

Chloe rose to it first, "Because it hurts okay? Your acting like it means nothing, but it does. It hurts-!" 

"Like a crowbar to the face?" She cut in, a dark little smile twisting her face as the green seemed to flash in her eyes.

Damian snickered at the playful jab, adding on, "Such cutting words, Mari, how do they compare to the autopsy?

"Like a gentle caress, little one," her grin becoming more wicked as she nuzzled the top of his head. Right then the hand she forgot was gripping her own became nearly crushing as it shook.

"Fucking hell, Mari," his voice rattled out and as her head jerked in his direction, she saw his crumpled expression break into a broken laugh. He ran his free hand through his hair, "I only found out you were alive an hour ago, could we maybe hold off on the morbid humor?"

"Hey, that means I was alive two and a half more years than you thought though," she attempted to comfort him.

"Yeah? And how were those two years spent?" He snarked back, though she could hear the desperation in his voice, begging to know why she hadn't come back sooner. Hadn't looked for him.

"Curbing my bloodlust," she easily replied, not outwardly reacting, eyes searching his for understanding. The flash of green in his own answered. 

He shook his head and nudged Damian, the boy instinctively moving at the nudge from a familiar hand and looking pissed upon realizing his mistake as he dropped onto the other end of the couch behind where Mari had ended up. Jason heeded him no mind as he pulled Marinette closer until she moved herself into his lap, letting herself marvel at how small she now was.

"Excuse me? Do we just not exist over here?" Chloe snapped into their little bubble.

"I wish," Damian muttered.

"Watch it brat."

"Chloe," Marinette growled out the warning.

The blonde teared up, "Mari, we're friends. You remember right?"

Sighing, she clamped down on the anger, "Of course I remember. Please try to refrain from calling him names though," swiveling towards Damian, who had started smirking, she snapped him out of it, "And Damian, learn tolerance. More people will be entering our lives now and we'll have to navigate around those the other chooses to associate with." He hunched in on himself at her reprimand.

"She lashed out at you. Her feelings about your death are not your fault."

"They aren't, but I also have zero tact about the topic of my demise. Maybe I cannot be blamed for her feelings over my dying, but I could control how hurtful my words are. Then she wouldn't have felt the need to lash out, just as you wouldn't. I won't become more tactful and I'll understand if she doesn't wish to talk to me because of it, but I could have," she turned back to Chloe with that, noticing the contemplative look to some, sadness to others. Jason simply looked like he understood and sympathized.

"So how exactly did this group come to be?"

"It took less than two months for Jason to fire Chat," Juleka spoke up, gripping Kagami's calf from her spot on the floor, purposefully drawing attention to the person she held, " choose her as the new black cat."

"Fair enough, and the rest are holders as well, I presume?"

At this moment, kwamis began to reveal themselves, Longg peeking out of Chloe's bag, Trixx popping out of Marc's hoodie, Mullo showing off their spot amongst Juleka's hair. Tikki eventually floated out of Kagami's blazer, looking at her with forlorn, yet hopeful eyes.

Feeling a purr start up against her neck, she twisted to look up at Jason.

"You two switched?"

"We switch often," Kagami spoke here, cradling Tikki who sat her palm holding back tears at the lack of reaction given, "good for confusing the enemy. They never knew which of us it was until the fighting style gave it away."

"It also became necessary due to my not being a very good fit for Tikki despite my body being the proper match," Jason cut in here.

"Juleka and I switch often as well. Fits us better that way."

"I stay the same, but I have three different forms, so I suppose it's fair," Chloe added.

"And Hawkmoth?"

"Gone. We ended it about a year or so ago," Jason reassured.

Only then did a tiny, happy smile slip onto her face, lightening the atmosphere and allowing everyone in the room to relax.

"Tikki? I've missed you sweetie bug," Mari cooed, the little goddess perking up and launching herself forward into the other side of her neck to cuddle close.

"Mari? I'm so happy you're alive! I missed you so much, you don't even know!" Tikki sniffled then immediately begin to scold her, "don't you ever pull a stunt like that on me again, do you hear? I can't lose you again."

"I know, I'm sorry. I cannot promise that."

"What does that mean?!"

"I might not have known I would die in that moment, but I would do so again," she looked over to Jason now, "I would take that hit again without hesitation. And I'm sure my life being threatened isn't going to suddenly stop. I will however do everything within my abilities to prevent another unnecessary death." 

The kwami gave a little huffy sniffle and ducked back into her neck once more, as Kagami gave a cough. "Don't worry, I have no intention of taking back your miraculous. You fit Tikki quite nicely from what I can tell."

"You.. Don't want me back?" Tikki spoke up.

"It's not that I wouldn't like to have you back by my side, but tell me truthfully Tik. Looking into my soul, could you see me being able to use your miraculous?"

The kwami deflated once more at that, knowing her to be right. At that moment, she felt a small hand softly tap her back before reaching up by her neck and slowly cupping the sleepy cat resting there. Sitting perfectly still until Plagg had been completely extracted, she turned to watch Damian slowly pet the God, the surprisingly docile kwami watching the boy out of the slits of his eyes. 

"What is he?" Damian looked to her, wide eyed and curious.

Chloe spoke up, trying to amend the static from earlier, "He's a kwami. They're like pocket sized Gods, bonded to pieces of jewelry. The person who wears that jewelry is granted the ability to use the corresponding kwami's power. His name is Plagg and he's the kwami of Destruction."

Damian nodded along, eyes filled with wonder as the others took turns introducing the other kwamis in the room, Tikki joining them as Plagg floated back over to Mari. For her part, Mari relaxed further as the others became purposefully distracted so as not to overwhelm each other any further, while also keeping Damian occupied.

Turning to greet Plagg, she offered a considering look, "You were on my person in the cafe."

He nodded.

"You adjusted my aim during the attack."

"You were going to kill them," he tensed up, tone defensive.

"I know."

"Marinette-"

"I'm glad you stopped me. They were not lives that needed taken."

"You've changed so much," the cat kwami sounded remorseful and desolate, taking her in, soul and all. 

"I have. You still love me though?"

"Course I do, sweetheart," the big green eyes teared up, never good at hiding his real feelings around her, especially now that he could see his own destruction magic in her soul and consuming Jason's body.

Taking a deep breath, she spoke out to the room, informing them that she'd be in the kitchen, making lunch. They all nodded in agreement, knowing they all needed the space to figure out their thoughts.

Jason followed her, "Mind if I join you?"

Turning around, knowing they no longer had an audience, she let her tears fall freely, speaking softly to not alert the others "Jay? This is real isn't it? You're really here?"

Holding her by the shoulders, he leaned down to meet her eyes, "shouldn't I be the one asking that?" He teased, smiling at her small laugh, "This is some surreal shit, isn't it?"

"Yeah," she choked out, rubbing her eye as she pushed forward and pressed her face to his chest, wrapping herself around him, feeling his arms hover a moment before pulling her in tight.

"You're being strong for him, aren't you?"

Grabbing his hand, she led him into the bedroom, closing the door softly, "He doesn't have anyone else, Jay. I'm sure he told you about the league?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Didn't happen to mention what he was doing there, did he?

"He slipped a bit, but I'd rather hear it from you."

"Talia is his mother. She took me in so I could get him out. Trained me to be the perfect protector, gave me the means to leave, disconnected from him completely so he wouldn't argue. And of course I agreed. He was being abused, Jay. It was so terrible, the way they were raising him. But I don't know what I'm doing."

"I don't know, you seemed to be doing a pretty amazing job out there," he brushed tears off her face, still amazed that he could, "How do you want to handle this? With me having taken my body back. I'll follow your lead here."

"About that… You and I have joint custody."

"What?"

"Legally, you're his older brother, who adopted him after your parents died, since you were of age to do so. Marinette Todd is your wife who adopted him with you."

"Wh-why would you- I mean-?" He cut himself off, confused.

"Well I mean, I didn't think the connection would ever come back, but in case it did or if I felt it safe to find you. I didn't want to take a chance. We can go back and change them?"

"It's fine, just, how old did you make us to be married and able to adopt a child?"

"Well he's your brother, so the adoption part would be easy despite age, plus we forged documentation for cps check-ins for two years, so they won't be checking now."

"And how old does that make us?"

"You're twenty one and I'm twenty. We've been his legal parents since you turned nineteen. We married the year after I graduated high school. You looked old enough to pull it off and I wasn't sure what I looked like anymore but doubted anyone would look twice."

"Well alright then," he blinked, pulling her close again and setting his head on top of hers, "It's going to take a while to get used to being this tall," he admitted.

"How do you think I feel," she rested fully against him, blown away by the ability to lean on someone for once.

A knock sounded on the door and Damian peaked in, "Mari? You need to come see this."

[schnoogles]

Curiouser and Curiouser written for the @jonsa-halloween event! Day 2: Drink Me/Colors Read on Ao3 

Theon began lining empty whisky tumblers, “how about everyone here try my newest concoction? I call it ‘The Kraken.’” He poured the brightest color of electric blue liquid in each glass and gestured for everyone to pick one up. Jon eyed it warily, “Where’d the name come from?” He lifted it to his mouth. Theon smiled as he watched everyone down it. “Eight legs, eight ingredients! Most of which are alcohol.” Robb immediately slapped Theon across the face after he drank his. Everyone else went into either a coughing fit or started gagging.

Theon had the best idea for a drink. Unfortunately, he wasn't anticipating Sansa being a lightweight.

“What up bitches! It’s time for SHOTS.” 

Everyone groaned. Arya was having way too much fun at this party.

“Gods, was I like this when I became legal drinking age?” Sansa looked at her little sister across the room, horrified at the bubbly young woman in a Cheshire cat costume. She’ll be first to admit though, Arya was absolutely adorable, even with what looked like a drink in each hand.

Jon snorted. “No, but you were like this when Robb took you to your first college party and Theon gave you an AMF.” 

“Not my finest hour.” Sansa grimaced at the memory. “On the plus side, that was my one and only time ever getting that wasted. Even now at legal drinking age I stay away from hard liquors. All thanks to Theon’s peer pressuring.”

“Hey!” Theon protested from behind the counter, “That drink gave you the fucking courage to kiss Jon! You should be thanking me!” Jon and Sansa shifted uncomfortably. Nearly four years later and still only one drunken kiss between them. Robb had seen what they were doing and put a stop to it. He didn’t care if they wanted to date but he didn’t want his best friend and little sister to do anything they’d regret. Unfortunately, they were both too embarrassed and didn’t bring it up the next day. Which led to both parties assuming the other did, in fact, regret it.

“How ‘bout we don’t humiliate Jon and Sansa tonight, Theon?” Robb walked up to the group, Arya in tow looking decidedly put out.

Theon laughed and pointed an empty shaker at her, “Why the pout, Cheshire?”

“Robb won’t let me have anymore shots.”

Everyone in the group snickered at her. Leave it to Responsible Robb to reign in his little sister. 

“Tell you what shorty,” Theon began lining empty whisky tumblers, “how about everyone here try my newest concoction? I call it ‘The Kraken.’” He poured the brightest color of electric blue liquid in each glass and gestured for everyone to pick one up.

Jon eyed it warily, “Where’d the name come from?” He lifted it to his mouth. 

Theon smiled as he watched everyone down it. “Eight legs, eight ingredients! Most of which are alcohol.” Robb immediately slapped Theon across the face after he drank his. Everyone else went into either a coughing fit or started gagging. 

“That,” he wagged a finger at Theon, “is absolutely disgusting.”

“Noted.” Theon shook his head, slightly disoriented from Robb’s slap.

Arya slammed her glass down in front of Theon. “Another!”

“No!” Everyone but Theon shouted. 

“Spoil sports, all of you.” Arya grumbled. 

The group of friends chatted some more, with Theon occasionally coming in and out of the conversation as he was making drinks for his guests. They were all having a good time. Talking, laughing, having some more drinks. No one thought they needed to stop until suddenly-

“Jesus Christ,” Sansa giggled, “Does everyone else see the pretty dancing colors?” Sansa looked around them in wonderment. She noticed a slight change in her vision earlier but thought she was imagining it. Now though, with another cocktail under her belt, she knew she definitely wasn’t imagining the pretty lights and bright swirling colors.

“Sansa?” Robb looked at his sister in disbelief. “Are you drunk already? Theon what the fuck was in that drink?”

Jon placed a steady hand on Sansa’s lower back. “Well, I think she had maybe one drink earlier, but I dunno what it was. Might not have been agreeable with Theon’s catastrophe-”

“It’s called Kraken, thank you very much.” He was affronted by Jon’s misnaming. “And how was I supposed to know that Queen of Hearts over here is a lightweight? She’s usually the DD!” He wasn’t wrong. Sansa always volunteered to stop drinking early at parties to make sure her older brother and his friends were safe. For good reason.

“First of all, Mad Hatter,” she scoffed at the name of Theon’s costume, “I’m the Red Queen! Pick up a book, learn the difference, get it right.” When drunk, apparently Sansa Stark became Sassy Snark. She hiccupped before gleefully announcing, “Second of all: I’m a one shot wonder babeyy!!” The boys tried to smother their laughter at the dancey redhead. Sansa wasn’t finished though. It was Theon’s idea to throw an Alice in Wonderland themed Halloween party so how dare he not know the different characters. During her long winded explanation of the various different queens in the story, Arya managed to sneak a drink from over the counter. She didn’t, however, manage to sneak it into her mouth.

“Freeze, Underfoot.” Robb gestured at the drink in her hand. “You’re cut off for the next hour. Pace yourself or you’ll end up like-” he stuck a thumb at Sansa, “-over there.” Arya looked over his shoulder and saw her older sister attempting to put braids in Jon’s curly hair. She snorted. “It’s water for you for the time being.” He went to grab two bottles from the fridge. One he gave Arya and the other he tossed to Jon. 

“Here we go Sansa,” Jon moved her hands off his hair and handed the water bottle to her, “I have some water for you.”

Sansa smacked his hand away. “The only thing you have is the audacity!”

Jon chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry?”

“You should be! How dare you have such nice soft hair! It’s not fair! You don’t even do anything with it!” Sansa suddenly squealed with delight and reached behind Jon. “Thanks Theon!”

“Wh- Hey!” Theon stood flabbergasted as she swooped over and stole his drink from his hands.

“What?” she asked curiously, unaware that anything was wrong. Instead of waiting for a response, she took the shot.

Theon spluttered, “What do you mean ‘what?’ That wasn’t for you!”

Lies. Clearly the shot was meant for Sansa. “But it was practically begging for me to drink it!” 

That gave Jon an idea. He uncapped the bottle of water and lifted it in front of Sansa’s face. In an unnaturally high pitched voice, he said, “Drink me, Sansa, drink me!” while waving the water in front of her face. Perhaps he was a bit tipsy too.

“Oh! Well okay, sure!” Jon’s jaw dropped at how easily and happily she took the water and drank. He blinked several times before calling out to her brother. “Uh… Robb?”

“Sup?”

“We can’t leave Sansa alone all night.”

“Um, sure…? But why?”

“She is a far too agreeable drunk.” Jon replied, eyes still not off of the pretty lady in front of him who was dancing to the music, water still in hand.

Before Robb could open that can of worms, he saw in the corner of his eye his other little sister running off with what looked suspiciously like a bottle in her arms. “HEY! ARYA COME BACK HERE!”

At the sound of her brother screaming, Sansa looked over, then enthusiastically started waving at the back of her sister’s head. “Bye Arya! See you later!”

Robb groaned and started banging his head on the counter. Sansa looked at her brother with the utmost concern. That surely must hurt him! 

“Don’t worry man, she’s fine,” Theon chuckled. When Robb glared at him, he explained. “She’s newly 21, remember?”

“Yeah, and?”

“And she just ran off with a bottle of grenadine,” Theon snorted, “Something tells me the only thing she'll get is a sugar crash.”

Robb sagged his shoulders in relief. He really didn’t want to deal with another drunk little sister. Those two are going to be the death of him. At least he only has to worry about a sugar crash tonight coming from Arya tonight.

Suddenly though, it was like Sansa sobered up out of nowhere. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“What’s wrong San?” 

She pointed at something passed her brother. When the boys all turned, they immediately frowned. A pompous ass, thy name is Joffrey. Robb swore. This is what he gets for letting Theon be in charge of everything, including the guest list.

Jon turned to Theon. “Bro.”

Theon scratched his head. “Look I didn’t invite him. I’m guessing Renly did? He’s usually forced to take his nephew to outings.”

Robb scrunched his face. “And since when were you friends with Renly Baratheon?”

Sansa, still not taking her eyes off the blonde asshole, answered, “Since the only way Margaery Tyrell would accept Theon’s invitation was if she was allowed to bring her brother Loras. And where Loras goes, so does Renly.” Sansa looked away from her source of disdain and lifted a brow at a very sheepish looking Theon. “Girls talk.”

“Of fucking course this is about a girl.” Robb sighed and looked to Jon. “I’m gonna handle this. Do you mind?” He jerked his head at Sansa and Jon understood the underlying request. Take my sister away from here while I kick out her ex, who would most definitely make a scene. 

“Hey, Red Queen?” Jon grabbed her hands and started backing up, pulling her along.

Sansa perked up. “Yes Jon?” She let him guide her, Joffrey already forgotten. Jon stumbled just a bit. Something about that Yes Jon that excited him.

“Remember how you were curious about where Ghost is during the party?”

Sansa instantly smiled brightly. She loved Jon’s dog. “Yeah?”

And her smile must be contagious because Jon returned it tenfold. “You wanna go see him?”

Sansa gasped enthusiastically, “Oh my gods! Yes pleeeeease!” 

Jon coughed. Something in his chest grumbled approvingly at her words. “Perfect,” his voice came out a little rougher than he intended. “He’s upstairs in my room.” And suddenly he was no longer leading Sansa, she was leading him. Tugging Jon along, she ran through the crowd of partiers to make her way towards the stairs when suddenly she stopped. Jon, not expecting the abrupt interruption in their journey, collided into her.

“Oooof! Sorry, Sansa, you okay?” 

She didn’t even notice, too busy looking around the room. “Isn’t it so pretty?” 

Jon laughed quietly at how she was admiring some fancy color-changing LED lights and, in his opinion, a rather tacky disco ball. Sure, the luminescence of the atmosphere was pretty cool, but it didn’t compare to one admiring it. What was in that drink Theon? “It’s gorgeous. Come on pretty girl, Ghost is waiting.” At the mention of the dog, Sansa squealed and grabbed Jon again, dragging him along.

When they opened the door to his room, she rushed over and started giving Ghost all the love. He was the best boy that ever was and deserved so many pets.

Jon closed the door and with the loud music now a muffled noise, he could properly appreciate her company. And he couldn’t help but admire her affections for his dog. When he sat on the edge of his bed, she looked up at him. 

“Jon, are you uncomfortable when I’m around?” That caught him off guard.

“What? No, not at all. Where is this coming from?”

Sansa bit her lip. “Well, I can’t help but remember the last time Theon plied me with alcohol.”

Jon turned his attention to Ghost instead and swallowed. “And?”

“And you sort of ignored me for a week. Sometimes I think we’re okay, but then you pull back again. And I’m not stupid. It always happens when I try flirting with you.”

Jon did a double take. “I’m sorry, you flirt with me?”

Sansa grimaced. “Oh god, was I not? Dammit Arya was right.” She started mumbling to herself as Jon watched, shocked at this new information. “Am I really just too nice to everyone? Is that why my flirting game is so off? My god is that why Arya thought I was flirting with the mailman when I told him it was so good to see him? Fucking hell.”

At the mention of Sansa flirting with someone who was not him, he snapped back to attention. “Wait wait wait. Sansa, you like me? Like… like me, like me?” Jon, channeling his inner Cheshire, slowly began to grin very, very widely.

“Aw you’re making fun, I don’t want to look at you anymore.” She turned her back to him, sticking her face in Ghost’s soft fur. Jon laughed at the woman with her face buried in his dog’s fur. But oh no, Jon couldn’t let that happen, no sir. He slid off the bed and joined her on the floor with Ghost. Gently pulling her and making her face him, Jon stared into those vibrant blue eyes of hers. They were as blue as Theon’s drink. At the memory of Theon’s drink, which had delightfully led to this conversation, Jon chuckled.

“Sansa, I’m going to need you to remember this conversation tomorrow morning, alright?”

“Of course I’ll remember!” She squinted her eyes at Jon. “Why do I need to remember?”

“Because I like you too and you’re drunk.” 

“Oh!” Sansa nodded. Jon made perfect sense. She is drunk and he does like her. With that confirmation, she went back to petting Ghost. And Jon went back to watching her fondly. 

Eventually, she drifted off to sleep, trapping Ghost in her arms. Jon’s eyes darted back and forth from her to his bed, debating. Nope, Jon had some decency left in him. He lifted her up and took her to Robb’s room. His friend can sleep on the couch for a night.

As he was tucking her in, Sansa grabbed at his arms. “Hey Jon?”

“Yeah?”

“Did I ever tell you? When I was dating Joffrey back in high school, it always felt like the light was drained out of me. It was kinda awful.” Jon furrowed his brows. He knew Joffrey Baratheon was an ass, but never knew to what extent. Before he could say anything though, Sansa continued. “But when I got to really know you and when we kissed a few years ago, it was like everything got inexplicably brighter. My life suddenly went from black and white to technicolor and I've never wanted to look back.”

Jon couldn’t stop smiling. “Alright pretty girl, it’s time for bed.”

She smiled mischievously at him. “You could always join me.”

Suddenly they heard a gagging noise coming from the inside room with them. Arya popped up from the floor on the other side of the bed. She pointed a bottle at them and glared. “I swear to all that is holy and good, if you join her Jon, I will vomit. And I’m not even drunk!”

Jon laughed as he backed up towards the door. “No worries, Underfoot, I’m going.” With one final wave at a giggling Sansa, he went out and closed the door behind him. Jon prayed to the gods that Sansa would remember tomorrow morning. 

Tomorrow Morning

Sansa opened the door and peeked through to see a snoring Jon. She went in and shut the door behind her. After some light contemplation, she thought ah fuck it and launched herself on his unsuspecting body. 

“Oh my god!”

“Good morning Jon!” she said sweetly to him. 

“Hi?” Bleary eyed Jon was not a morning person.

“Hey Jon. I remember.” 

His eyes snapped open. Suddenly Jon, and all parts of Jon really, became a morning person. 

Arya heard giggling come from Jon’s room while coming back from the bathroom and scoffed. “Filthy animals.”