#been getting play by plays of the Horrors and boy are they horrible

[campbyler]

impatiently and annoyingly asking abt the werek fic?

thea is chipping away at it! she’s had a Rough couple of weeks at work and has also had to work from home/on her weekends in addition to the work week so writing has been a pretty low priority for her recently and i fully support that. she’s hoping to get back into a rhythm with it over her upcoming weekend but honestly if she wanted to sleep for 48 hours i would support that as well she has Earned It

[katiekatdragon27]

Hello Dandy's World fans.

I've recently been playing the game on Roblox with my friends and sibling, and it's been a ton of fun! Sure, I'm horrible at it, but it's the thought that counts ig.

And don't worry, I draw normal things too.

Like these things.

But it's mostly angst and unhinged things lol.

Below is a silly goofy Shiny Shrimp (that's the ship name I made up for Glisten x Shrimpo lol) AU that's just angst and tragedy and bullying Shrimpo emotionally lol:

OKAY SO CONTEXT: I thought it would be funny if Shrimpo had to keep Glisten company while exploring the floors but was also the one to witness his change into his full twisted form and almost die lol.

SO, I'd imagine it going down like this.

Basically, during one of the missions below, Glisten doesn't make it to the elevator in time. Shrimpo gets wind of this and gets very pissed. Despite everyone's protests, Shrimpo decides to join on of their runs to gain iquor, but mostly to fine Glisten.

And boy does he find him and all his shattered face glory.

Glisten: "Shrimpo!?" Shrimpo: "G-Glisten?" Glisten: "I knew you'd come back for me!"

Shrimpo attempts to leave the situation, seeing that Glisten is indeed twisted, despite Glisten's insistence that he is not. As Shrimpo tries to leave, Glisten gets more attached, constantly asking Shrimpo to not leave and to stay with him. Another person in the party (haven't decided who yet), tells Shrimpo to stay with Glisten and keep him company until all the machines are done. Shrimpo reluctantly agrees (and says "I HATE YOU" a couple times) and spends the rest of the round with Glisten.

However, the whole time Shrimpo's trying not to get attached because deep down, he knows it's too late for Glisten.

At the end of the round, everyone is called to go to the elevator. Shrimpo goes to leave. Glisten tries to block him off. Shimpo forces his way through. Glisten gets pissed and rips off his ribbons in anger, letting the infection take over his whole body. As Glisten's shifting, Shrimpo grabs one of his discarded ribbon pieces and beelines it to the elevator (as fast as Shrimpo can run). However, it is not fast enough, and Glisten easily catches up. He knocked over Shrimpo and lunges at him, ready take him out.

That's when Goob comes in. While everyone is trying to get the elevator to close faster, Goob grabs Shrimpo from below Glisten and pulls him into the elevator. Glisten hits the floor and breaks his face even more. As he gets up, he shouts at Shrimpo, who is shaking in Goob's arms watch Glisten break down.

Glisten: "YOU PROMISED YOU'D STAY WITH ME-- YOU PROMISED!"

Then, the doors close. Glisten is gone, and Shrimpo is angry and traumatized. How fun.

Shrimpo does not do well after the whole incident. He is much more reserved, but still just as angry. Except to Goob. Goob saving him gave Shrimpo a soft spot for the guy. Also, Goob let's Shrimpo vent to him like the supportive icon he is.

Shrimpo: I think I miss my partner, Goob.

But he's not the only toon Shrimpo talks to.

Vee: "Geez. This crying is ruining your "tough guy" persona."

My sibling gave me the silly idea to have Shrimpo and Vee be "friends" in this bc Shrimp hates Dandy waaaaaaaaaay more after the Glisten incident. And Vee hates Dandy in general, so boom, situation friendship. However, Vee sucks at being a supportive friend.

And some silly stuff my friends requested. Shrimpo chucking Dandy into the stratosphere and Goob being Goob. Healing the world one crappy doodle at a time.

Thank you for looking at the dooles and mindless rant of a grown adult about a Roblox horror game for 9-year-olds. You're a real one. Have a good day broksies.

[skyedancer-system]

Going into Poppy Playtime Chap. 4 I was not expecting to get halfway decent plural rep but here we are????

Spoilers for the new chapter under the cut, and also cw for all the general Poppy Playtime stuff (child death + experimentation, body horror, if you know the game you get the gist)

SO THIS GUY HUH

Doey the Doughman, the surprise character revealed just days before the chapter dropped and who finally answered the question of the red/orange/yellow hand imagery we’ve been getting teased with for so long

In the chapter himself he’s pretty important to the plot and is an ally to the player, Poppy, and Kissy for (most of) the chapter, and he’s a pretty nice guy just with a bit of a temper, and very overwhelmed by having to keep the Safe Haven together and protected in Poppy’s absence.

But his personal story? How he was created via Playtime Co.’s Bigger Bodies Initiative? Oh god it’s honestly one of the most messed up ones yet other than Yarnaby (and that’s saying something considering this is child experimentation we’re talking about, and Yarnaby lost his entire self and was treated like a straight up animal, isolated so he would love and obey Harley and only Harley)

Where most of the living toys were made from one child, Doey was made from three. Jack, a visitor to the factory that got caught in a freak accident and was taken into Playtime’s care for his medical recovery. Kevin, a problem child in the Playcare known for his anger issues. And Matthew, an extremely kind boy who tried to keep hopes up among all the orphans in the Playcare, and was a sort of leader to them.

And all three of them are still present in some form; at various points in the game you see them switch, speaking and thinking differently, with varying opinions on everything happening. And from the tape of the Jack’s parents seeing what Playtime did to their son, we see that the three have separate memories as well, at least they did when they were first put together.

And this plurality that was forced onto them isn’t played for scary points like you’d expect from a mascot horror game. Yes it is part of Doey’s monstrous design once they get upset, but them being upset is because everything they had worked to protect was destroyed by the Prototype. All of the other kids turned toys that had kept their consciousness and relied on Doey for protection, mercilessly killed. Anybody would be horrifically upset in that situation. And one of the three boys - Kevin - lashes out at the player, the other two trying to calm him down only for all of them to fall into anger and emotion.

You can clearly see the three kids; one angry, two sad, all of their emotions coming together into a grief induced rage, with physical pain only compounding it. And when you eventually have to kill them and put them out of their misery, their last words?

“I’m sorry.”

They were just kids; three kids forced into a horrible situation and having to learn to live with it. And for a long time it seems that they did, working together rather peacefully until their lives were upheaved by the arrival of the player and Poppy’s reappearance.

Kevin’s anger at everyone and the world is completely justified; I mean he and the other two were experimented on and then kept caged like animals, being practically forced to kill! He wanted to protect them; to avenge the countless others that had been killed by the Playtime scientists and the Prototype! And considering things only went to shit after the player and Poppy showed up? Well it’s no wonder that anger got directed at them

It it a super good depiction of plurality? No, not by a long shot. But it’s definitely way better than I would expect from a game like Poppy Playtime.

I was not expecting this post to get this long whoops fbsnbdns; if anyone else has anything they want to add though we’d love to hear it!

[sweetfwr]

SKOOL LUV AFFAIR ˒˒ yjw

it’s your junior year, and all you want is to survive the rest of your high school life away from the prying eyes of others. however it seems the universe has other, more absurd plans, like a secret love affair with the student council president.

genre) FLUFF, high school au, secret relationship, kinda based off a true story..

pairing) student council president!jungwon x newspaper club president!reader

wc) 1k

now playing) intro (end of the world) - ariana grande

“she seems sadder, doesn’t she?” a girl you hardly know outside of being a classmate and (barely) an acquaintance murmurs pitifully, and a second, taller girl nods vigorously.

“i would be too if i lost lee heeseung.”

you? sadder? you frown in deep thought. you had forgotten to put on concealer after pulling off an all-nighter and practically flew out of the house once you realized you slept through your alarm, but that was about it.

after all, what reason did you have to be sad? in your humble opinion ranking number 5 out of 452 students and recently being named the head of the school newspaper were hardly mundane things. besides, there’s also j—

“there’s no way they’re getting back together, right?? he’s with someone new, for god’s sake!”

“aren’t you updated?” the taller one gasps, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards when her friend shakes her head no. “they just broke up! heeseung told one of the guys on the football team and the news spread everywhere.”

now that’s something you didn’t know.

“oh my god, he’s single now?”

“he’s been single. my friend’s boyfriend’s cousin is in his class. want me to set you up?”

you think you’d rather go down a waterslide lined with razor blades and land into a pool of alcohol than continue on listening to this nonsense, so you pack up your books, turn up the music in your earbuds, and quietly leave the writing club’s room completely undetected by the other two occupants. you dive into the warm, crowded halls adorned with sunspots and ethereal views of the after-school sunset.

needless gossip is something you can definitely tolerate. when your ex is the school’s poster boy for popular kids, you’ve accepted the irrelevant whispers that have surrounded you since your sudden breakup one full year ago, because kids your age make mistakes, and a little positivity goes a long way!

but as you walk through the halls and slowly come to a stop at the sight of a chattering crowd and lee heeseung making his way through it, frantic gaze looking left and right as if he were looking for someone as he holds a absurdly large bouquet of flowers in his right hand, a pit forms in your stomach for what’s to come.

you take one huge step back in preparation to sprint away, but it’s too late when heeseung’s eyes land on you and he goes completely still.

the crowd-goers around him follow suit in an almost comedic fashion, and some even cock their heads and murmur to each other in confusion when they collectively realise who the bouquet is for.

your ex-boyfriend grips the bouquet a little harder and gulps visibly, before making his way to you in slow steps. his friends, a few of which you can name from the back of your head as jay, sunghoon, and jake follow suit and arrange themselves in a line behind him with illustration board signs that bear horribly written lettering. to your absolute horror, it says:

WILL U B MY GF? (again) in bold with a winky ;) face at the end.

needless gossip, you can handle. public confessions from your ex on the other hand, is something that was completely unfathomable to you only 30 minutes ago. who even does public confessions anymore? especially in school. it’s hot, sweaty, and just so… public. you never know who’s watching, either! including… fuck.

in an internal frenzy, your eyes start darting between the numerous people in the crowd until they land on the yang jungwon’s, student council president, eyebrows furrowed and a hand in his pocket while the other was situated in a deadly grip on one of his backpack straps at the commotion.

“hey,” one guy whispers to his friend, eyes nervously shifting between heeseung and jungwon. “he shouldn’t be doing this infront of the student council president, man. he hates racket in the halls.”

slowly, all the color drains from your face and you’re prompted to leave, immediately, even when heeseung gets on one knee and begins loudly proclaiming his love for you. to his and everyone else’s shock, you rush past him and push through the crowds until you’re out of the building gates and into the open air.

at this point the orange swirls in the skies fade to a dark blue and thunder clouds begin to form above, but you’re too irritated to care. who cares about positivity?! your ex has just started weeks worth of rumours about the two of you when you’ve been trying to fight them off for a full 12 months! you think your uniform might be getting soaked, but a fog clouds your mind and you can’t think straight despite the fact that you’re getting poured on by heaps and heaps of heavy rain.

that is, until an umbrella is quietly held over your head, and you know in your heart exactly who the owner is.

you continue walking, albeit at a slower pace, and he follows behind you wordlessly.

“i can’t believe him, won.” you let yourself complain, for the first time in a long while. “he cheats on me, then he lets everyone and their mom in the halls know hes wants me again? talk about guts, right?” you scoff.

“totally.” despite not being able to see him, you hear his smile, and you know it’s not because he finds your complaining silly. rather, he’s just happy to be around you outside of the constraints of prying eyes at school, even if it is while he trails behind you, holding an umbrella over your head under the pouring rain as you curse and release your frustrations to your heart’s content.

in fact, he genuinely can’t think of a better way to think of your six month anniversary, in what in his eyes, is a romantic moment under the rain in the middle of an empty street with his girlfriend.

“he was so cheesy about it too!” you groan, hands reaching up to comically pull at your hair in frustration. at this point, you’ve come down from your hysteria enough that you allow yourself to briefly glance back at jungwon every once in a while. “the signs, seriously? you should’ve seen what they said hon, they—“ you stop in your tracks and take a good look at your boyfriend.

at your abrupt pause and gaping stare, he only cocks his head curiously. “what? keep going.”

“won, you’re soaked.” you murmur sadly, only having realized now that your boyfriend, your real boyfriend wordlessly held an umbrella over your head to let you shout profanities in peace despite getting soaked himself.

he scoffs playfully at your sensitivity. “i can change when i get home, don’t be dramatic.”

completely going against his words, a wide, genuine smile graces your features, all of your previous anger fading away at the sight of your man. “jungwon, you big softy! did that go on for long? how have you been? did you have a good day at school?”

“would’ve been better if i got to see you,” he hummed, playing it cool despite the fact he was soaked in rain water from head to toe. “even if it was just from afar.”

“you were jealous, weren’t you?”

“…i wasn’t.”

you coo at him fondly, and at this he only smiles and looks away bashfully. your boyfriend, the student council president and the one who ranked number 1 out of that 452. the boy who decided to convey his feelings to you over a handwritten letter 6 months to this day and the one who called the shots to keep your relationship secret, for your sake, because he knew that that was what you wanted.

you started off as only co-workers as the editor-in-chief of the school paper and the student council president, but you can’t thank the universe enough for letting you know the beautiful human being that is your boyfriend anyway. at this thought, you grab the umbrella from his hands and toss it away before entrapping him in a bone-crushing hug.

“let’s go home.” you murmur quietly into his neck, “i can lend you clothes.”

he hums in response, more focused on the way your arms wrap around him and give him warmth as he returns the gesture. “that sounds nice.”

“happy monthsary?” “happy monthsary.”

[screams-of-the-damned84]

(flops on stage) i now present to you my very silly swap au,,,

essentially jasper is now the co-leader of the society who was bitten by a werewolf and is trying to hide it, jekyll is the uni student who got kicked out due to his experiments and then picked up off the streets, etc. jasper and rachel can’t communicate and jekyll and lanyon are living the world’s weirdest horror romcom you’ve ever seen. more info under cut hehe (feat. bad explanations and doodles)

in simpler terms, jekyll and lanyon swap narrative positions (?? is that the right term) with jasper and rachel respectively. (lanyons and rachels swap doesn’t technically work as well as Jekyll’s and jaspers does but shhhhh). Frankenstein becomes the mad scientist that attacks the society and moreau becomes jaspers idol.

longer explanation but WARNING!! it is 3am when i am typing this and i am terrible at explaining. it may be slightly incomprehensible.

so like jasper and rachel founded the society after jasper publishes his research and gets semi famous. two years before current events jasper is out on a research venture and gets bitten by a werewolf. he doesn’t want to scare rachel or the lodgers so he keeps it a secret (to his own detriment). flash forward to now and jasper gets a call to investigate a “creature” terrorizing the streets of london only to find hyde.

before jasper can process the dumpster man he is looking at hyde transforms back into jekyll. jekyll explains that while trying to prove his theory of spiritual alchemy at his university he may or may not have split his own soul. and got kicked out. and is now living on the streets.

jasper, not really knowing what else to do and kinda relating to the poor guy, takes him back to the society. he introduces his co-leader rachel, who pretty much keeps this entire thing up and running. (rachel and jekyll still become friends but she especially takes to hyde. that little brother shaped hole in her heart is still very much present!) then theres the lodgers (idk how they all swap) and then there’s lanyon, a university student at the society because it was mandatory for one of his courses. he is not enjoying it and would very much rather be breaking boy’s hearts back at school. lucky for him tho, there’s jekyll!

this goes about as well as you would expect. lanyon then spends the rest of his stay at the society trying to understand (and woo) the conundrum that is jekyll and hyde. it’s very fluffy and they learn to communicate like jasper and rachel in canon (yippee!)

unfortunately for jasper and rachel, they have been playing the “just friends” game for the last decade. im having a bit of trouble trying to flesh out swap rachel so i don’t really know if she’s in a lavender marriage like canon lanyon is or is estranged/divorced or just single but whatever the case is she likes jasper but thinks he just sees her as a friend while jasper is madly in love with her and is too scared to tell her. this problem has only worsened since jasper got bitten. everyone else tho is aware of how they feel about each other and are stuck witnessing their tortuously long slow burn.

(hyde and lanyon at some point probably come up with a scheme to try and get them to confess. it goes horribly wrong.)

so yeah. this au has been floating around in my head ever since i read the comic for the first time. it mainly came to be because of how well jasper and jekyll parallel each other and because i wanted to draw stupid fluff and older jasper lol.

if anyone has any ideas/questions/etc TELL ME!!!!! this is just a rough idea if you have a better concept go for it awhdvgevd

[everytimewetouch-dot-mp3]

shen yuan, dragon god of cang qiong mountain sect, has a new mission.

[Mission {Master of Masters} at 2% progress. Subquest {Master of One} begins now! USER_002 must obtain protagonist [Luo Binghe] as a personal disciple! Continue to work hard!]

there are steps between, of course. shen yuan comes back down the mountain once he’s calmed down—just to check on binghe, not to make a scene! but yue qingyuan was alerted that their sect’s god had descended his peak, and a meeting of all cang qiong’s lords was called. every peak lord is called back to cang qiong. it’ll take a week for everyone to arrive—liu qingge is off on a night hunt, and shang qinghua is accompanying his head disciple to negotiate contracts for fabrics and dyes (and, shen yuan thinks resentfully, probably off doing traitor-to-the-sect business. fuck that guy).

while they’re waiting, shen yuan is invited to stay on qiong ding—as if he doesn’t have a perfectly good mountain he can ascend again until the peak assembles. but yue qingyuan seems anxious to have him, and shen yuan is kind of internally geeking out over getting to properly meet this sect leader. so he agrees, and he’s arranged in a manor fit for a visiting sect leader, which is kind of insane. rich, dark woods; silks in qiong ding’s deep blues and grays; night pearls illuminating every room. is this how people live in this world???

yue qingyuan…hovers a fair bit. surely he should be busy with sect-leader-y things, but apparently having shen yuan come down is a huge deal that requires yue qingyuan’s constant attention. bringing tea and snacks, accompanying him to meals on each peak with all the lords in residence (except shen qingqiu), escorting him to and from qing jing every day when he goes to check on binghe.

that always seems a little uncomfortable for yue qingyuan. shen yuan is still rightfully pissed about binghe’s treatment, but he hasn’t gotten that horrible feeling that his territory is under threat again, so he assumes binghe is alright. the first time he tells yue qingyuan that he’s going to qing jing to check on ‘that young disciple your shidi thought it right to whip,’ yqy gets this constipated look on his face before—before fucking defending sqq.

saying sqq isn’t a cruel man, really—or, he is, but not without reason. all of cang qiong’s disciples are disciplined when it’s appropriate, he says. shen shidi has had problems with that disciple before, and lord canglong shouldn’t judge him too harshly before he hears the full story.

the furious energy crackling around shen yuan is enough to cut yue qingyuan’s entreaty for leniency off. yue qingyuan always seemed like the kindly big-brother type in the novel, if a bit too indulgent of sqq. and shen yuan always wondered why he would turn a blind eye to sqq’s abuse of lbh when he knew it was going on. now he’s seen it with his own eyes, and yue qingyuan still has the audacity to try to cover for sqq, and it kind of makes shen yuan sick.

he’s been doing his best to play the part of the great immortal now that the upset of his initial descent from the mountain has passed. but when yqy defends sqq like this, shen yuan can’t help but drop all pretense of formality and glare, eyes blazing, at this sect leader. ‘do you think i’m fucking stupid?’ he spits. and yqy pales, horror in his eyes, trembling more as shen yuan lays into him.

to discipline a child is to teach them the way they should go. what does whipping a thirteen-year-old boy teach him? shen yuan knows what luo binghe has learned from his shizun’s instruction. that he is stupid, incapable, unworthy of his martial family’s care. that the sect who took him in—the sect shen yuan himself established centuries ago—only took him so it would have something to beat.

shen yuan is pissed. he doesn’t wait for yqy’s escort to qing jing; he takes his sword there himself, finds luo binghe, and brings him back to the guest manor yqy set him up in. binghe is confused, of course, to be faced with his savior’s fury, but when lord canglong makes a request of him, he’s all to happy to comply. and if he buries his face against lord canglong’s robes as they fly back to qiong ding, it’s only to protect his face from the wind.

there’s warmth in his chest whenever he walks near lord canglong, and as he’s led by a hand on his shoulder into lord canglong’s guest quarters, binghe feels like he might combust (in one part, from the overwhelming, humbling joy he feels at being the subject of his sect’s god’s attention; in the other part, because lord canglong’s grip is imbued with so much spiritual power it makes binghe’s skin tingle all the way down to his toes).

binghe follows lord canglong into the main room and, when it’s clear they’re done walking, he sinks to his knees in gratitude.

‘enough of that, luo binghe,’ shen yuan splutters, reaching to pull binghe up from his kowtow. honestly, he’s going to be the emperor! none of this prostration; it’ll only be a debt on his head later on! ‘get up. i won’t see you humble yourself to this—uh’ shit! System, help! What do gods like this call themselves?!!

[Answering USER_002, his title is {Lord Canglong, Shen Yuan, Grand Master of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect.} ‘This Grandmaster’ would be expected and appropriate.]

god, that feels so pretentious. shen yuan swallows his millennial sensibilities and does his best to thicken his face a little. ‘—to this grandmaster whose sect has treated him so poorly.’

binghe looks up with stars in his night-dark eyes, and it takes every shred of shen yuan’s self control not to soften at the awe in this child’s face. how come no one told him little lord luo would be so cute?! of course he’s adorable; he’s the protagonist.

‘this—this lowly disciple wouldn’t dare—that is, he wouldn’t presume to, um—lord canglong is—”

poor thing! too cute, too cute!

‘luo binghe is not lowly,’ shen yuan says first, because that feels like the most important part to address. no humbling yourself in front of this old dragon, ah! no debts to this sect! ‘didn’t this grandmaster say in front of everyone that luo binghe is uniquely gifted?’

‘this disciple thought…’ luo binghe’s eyes are already trained on the ground, but he shrinks into himself at this. in this grand room, luo binghe looks so small, so unlike the menacing demon lord shen yuan knows he’ll become. ‘this disciple thought that perhaps, in his anger, lord canglong…exaggerated… to make a point to shizun.’

‘if i have anything to say about it,’ shen yuan mutters, ‘he won’t be your shizun much longer.’

at that, luo binghe’s gaze snaps up, his shoulders tight. ‘this stupid disciple doesn’t understand.’

‘not stupid,’ shen yuan says immediately. ‘what this grandmaster means to say is just that. luo binghe will not be a qing jing peak disciple for much longer. this grandmaster does not trust qing jing peak’s lord to raise luo binghe well, so he will do it himself.’

[xhoneygirlxx]

Watermelon Sugar

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

summary: Eddie shows you the eight wonder of the world. his mouth.

warnings: reader and eddie are 18+, established relationship, fluff, Eddie being a munch. nicknames/pet names used (baby, honey, sweetheart, etc.) MINORS DNI 18+ smut: fem oral receiving, blowjobs mentioned, talks of past sexual experiences, praise/body worship, swearing. *Skin Color/Ethnicity not mentioned! not proofread, spelling errors and horrible writing.

if I miss anything plz lmk!

a/n: hello my loves! thank you all for the kind words and reactions on my last couple of posts! as you all know smut is not my forte but I felt the need to write this. am I projecting??? maybe but we’re gonna pretend that i'm not :)

The low hum of Steve Nicks’ voice plays through Eddie’s room, the soundtrack of your makeout session with your boyfriend. Orange glow from the late afternoon sun comes through the window, an angelic glow casting around the frizz of the mentalhead’s hair.

It started as an innocent day, hanging out together in a comfortable silence in his room. Him doodling in his notebook and you flipping through one of his old comic books. Somewhere along the way a featherlight touch turned into shared giggles, sitting in his lap turned into a chaste kiss, and it ended up with him in between your parted knees, kissing like his life depended on it.

A curtain of curls block out the skylight, tender lips on yours like melted honey, and big hands roaming down the expanse of your body. When Eddie moves away from your mouth, he takes the oxygen from your lungs with him and you whimper at the loss.

"Gonna let me have a taste of you, pretty girl?" Big doe eyes shine down to you, way too eager and excited. Your stomach twists into knots, the training you put yourself through in case of this moment, has all been for nothing. What do you say to the man that hovers over you with so much love in his eyes?

"How about I suck you off instead, hmm?" You try to come off as sensual but instead you sound scared.

It's an offer that you've made so many times over the short course of your relationship with Eddie. This was your first real relationship besides the eight grade love affair you had with Simon Willard. That only lasted a week.

You weren't anywhere near a virgin, that so called sacred part of yourself is now in the possession of a random boy you met on vacation before your senior year. Hookups weren't uncommon to you but what was uncommon to you was the affection you received during the sex.

People you've hooked up with never really cared to get you nice and ready the way Eddie does, prepping you with two or more fingers, working you open so that it doesn't hurt going in. Guys didn't care if you got off or not, they were just looking for a hole to fill and someone who wouldn't get clingy.

You had guy friends, including Eddie before you started dating, and you heard the horror stories they had of going down on a girl. It was never in mean spirit, although the discussion should've stayed in the bedroom, but it still scared you shitless. How one girl didn't properly take care of herself, causing the smell to be rancid. This girl didn't wipe the right way, leaving scraps of toilet paper down there. And the one that really settled itself into your brain, was how good or bad a girl tasted.

Of course you, and all of your guy friends, knew that girls didn't taste like ice cream, or strawberries, or candy. It was made up, another bullshit beauty standard for woman to worry about.

You had paid attention to the way guys would ask you if you wanted it done. The way they would sigh and roll their eyes like it was the biggest task of their lives. You would end up telling them that you're more of a giver than receiver, and that you just weren't interested in that whole thing. When they would release a breath of relief you would fill with shame, almost like you were the one who requested it to be done and had been turned down. The embarrassment of rejection you didn't even ask for.

So when you and Eddie first had sex as boyfriend and girlfriend, you made it your mission to never let that horrid question come from his mouth. You always made sure to offer him head first, and if it looked like he was about to ask, you'd simply tell him you couldn't wait anymore.

Now here you are, under him, ready and willing to take him in your mouth, and he's gotten the question out before you could beat him to the punch.

"Ya know I will never say no to that, sweetheart. But-"

Uh oh. That's the word that comes before a life or death sentence. It's hanging heavy over you, the once comfortable silence is now killing you. Squeezing all of the air out of your body, limbs going numb with the loss of circulation, all the while your ears ring like an explosion has gone off.

"I want to return the favor." It's so sincere when he says it and it makes you want to cry. A boyish smile taking over his mouth, deep dimples appearing on the fat of his cheeks.

You must look like you've seen a ghost because the pretty smile that was written on his face is now taken over by worry.

"I mean, I don't have to. It's just- I feel like," Eddie's a panicked mess, backing his face further away from your own. The small bubble of love that the two of you created has now been popped with your own doubts and fears.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, I just thought I could make you feel good s'all." The confident man that you know all too well is now reduced to a fumbling and anxious person. His fingers work at the chunky silver ring on his finger, twisting and twisting and twisting it around.

"You just always, I don't know. It just always seems like you never ask for head and I just wanted to offer it to you, I guess."

The whiskey eyes that never left your gaze won't even look at you anymore. Focusing on that damn ring that goes faster and faster the longer you wait to respond. You want to run and hide. Dig a deep hole and never come out. Your lovely boyfriend who's done nothing but treat you like the queen of the goddamn universe, now thinks he's made you uncomfortable.

Embarrassment rushes through your veins, throat closing with the grip of shame making it harder to breathe. Tears prick your eyes, hot and heavy, ready to fall at the drop of a dime. You feel so guilty for not just telling him the truth, for not saying all the concerns that you had. Even before you started dating Eddie always confided in you, telling you the deepest secrets that kept him up at night and you couldn't even tell him this one thing.

"I'm embarrassed." It comes out in a sniffle, lip wobbling beneath the teeth that hold it down, trying to make it go away.

"I'm just embarrassed I won't be good. That I'll be another conversation for you and the boys to drink to. Will I taste good? Do I smell weird? Does it look pretty? All of these questions circle my brain and I'm so fucking scared that you won't like me anymore." It comes out like word vomit, so fast and uneven in tone that you're not sure if it even made sense.

You don't have time to think it over anyway, Eddie's too quick putting his hands on your cheeks, gently making you look up at him. The same kind eyes that you always see meet yours. Thumbs gentle swipe the fat tears off of your face, his cold hands extinguish the flames of your skin.

"Honey, I promise you I would never, ever do some dumb shit like that. What the guys and I talk about is irrelevant, half the time they don't even know what they're talking about. I felt the same way when you wanted to suck me off the first time, every single question you ask yourself is what I ask myself." Eddie's eyes are searching yours, looking and waiting to see the dread leave your head.

"Like I said before, I would never want you to be uncomfortable but if you're okay with it, I'd really," He places a gentle kiss on your forehead, "really," he continues to place more delicate kisses around your face, "really love to make you feel so fucking good."

When he's done, he looks back down to you with a dopey smile, he's low and hazy drunk off of you. A smile tugs on your own lips, so warm and fuzzy off of him. You know he means it and you feel sad that you even questioned him. Childish laughter rings out between the two of you when he pinches your sides, tickling out the stiffness in your body.

When the laughter dies down, he asks you again by cocking his eyebrow up in question. Nodding your head, you give him a confident yes, something you didn't feel the first time he asked.

Moving down your body, trails of kisses are left on your skin, mapping out his journey to your center. When he reaches the hem of your pants, he looks up to you once more waiting for a reply. Encouraging him to go further, his chilled fingers douses the warmth radiating off of you.

Leaving you only in your polka dot designed panties, Eddie teases you by running his fingers up and down your thighs.

"I gotta say bub, I love the pink dots. Top notch fashion if I don't say so myself." Eddie jokes and it makes you giggle. Swatting lightly at him, he returns the laughter.

"I'm not lying, I swear! If only you know what you do to me." As much of a joker Eddie is, he was never one to joke about your beauty. He found everything you did, said, and wore so fucking breathtaking and flawless, he'd probably get hard from the sight of you in a Tin Man costume.

"If you, at any time, want me to stop just tell me. I won't get mad, just let me know, okay?" Eyebrows scrunched with seriousness, Eddie makes sure to be loud and clear with his instructions.

"I promise, Eds." You say and he takes that as the green light.

Eddie's index finger teases your cloth slit, running up and down so slowly it feels like torture. When you lift your hips looking for more friction he snorts lightly.

"Patience, my love." His fingers continue to dance over your panties, running back to the top of the band and pulling them down in a swift motion.

When the cool air hits your wet seat, you whimper slightly at the feeling. Eddie has seen your pussy multiple times, but when he spreads it with his fingers, you can't help but feel shy, closing your legs around his arm.

"Don't go shy on me, baby. I just wanna see the prettiest picture I've ever seen." His eyes are still trained on the glistening of your sex, glimmering like bright pools of water.

It feels like an hour of no movement from Eddie before he goes to change his position between your legs. Shuffling back on his knees, he picks your thighs up to place on his shoulders as he lays on his stomach.

Still having doubts, you lean up on your elbows, watching your boyfriend to see what his reaction is. To your surprise, he looks like a kid in a candy store, awe and wonder swimming around in the big brown pools of his eyes.

When an obscene sniff rings through the air, you can't help but cringe a little. Waiting for him to look repulsed, you're again astonished when all your met with is a feral look.

Very tentatively, he runs his flat tongue from your hole to the top of your clit. Moaning deeply, he moves his gave up to you. A smirk breaks out on his features, so devilishly and mischievously.

"Oh baby, you have no fucking clue how good you taste." There is no questioning in his cadence. It's smug and cocky and it makes you shiver with need.

Repeating his motions from before, you mewl at the feeling, lifting your hips again. The chuckle that comes from Eddie vibrates off of you, make you move you squirm. Reaching his strong hands around your thighs, he holds you in place with his firm grip.

When the wet muscle breaches your needy hole, you fall back onto the bed moaning out in pleasure. He works your open with it, flicking it in and out efficiently.

Pulling out of you, he moves up to your bundle of nerves. Starting slowly, he circles around once or twice, before working it in figure eights.

You melt into the bed like a popsicle on a hot summers day. There's not a single thought in your head other than the feeling of his mouth. You're a livewire come to life, so sensitive and lost in the haze of pleasure.

You think this is the precipice of ecstasy but then one of his thick fingers enter you and his mouth sucks hard on your pulsing clit.

It feels like fireworks on the fourth of July, bright and explosive, big loud bangs ringing out into the night sky. It's like the feeling of going down the big drop on a rollercoaster, tingling deep in your belly and a rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins. It's like winning first place, heartwarming and shocking all at the same time.

You feel all these things at the same time, every single one of them caused by the actions of your boyfriends mouth. It's overwhelming and so fucking delicious but you can't say anything than cry out in bliss.

Letting go of your clit with a pop, Eddie's head pokes up at you like an excited puppy. "S'it feel good baby?" You want to answer, you really do but the way he sneaks a second finger into you and crooks them at the perfect angle makes you lose all motor skills.

"Awe, honey" he coos mockingly, "Is it that good?"

"S'good Eds, so good." You're a blubbering, crying mess. So hooked on the feeling of him, hooking on the feeling of how he made you feel.

He doesn't say anything else, too busy pushing his face back between your legs. His motions go faster, fingers hitting that sweet spot inside of you that he only managed to find, his mouth switching between motions, driving you closer to the edge as he does.

The string in your belly is pulling tighter and tighter, barley hanging together by a thread. You're a thrashing, sweaty mess on his bed, gripping the pillow underneath your head that your knuckles will probably be stuck in that position. You don't care, not when he's moving his head back and forth, slurping up your wetness like a handmade milkshake.

It's filthy, down right dirty the way it sounds. The noises that carry out into his room echo so loud the neighbors could probably hear. The squelch of your wetness being pounded into by his hand, the way he's drinking you up like a dehydrated plant, the moans that escape out of your parted lips.

"Eddie, please. FUCK, please." You're blathering at him, not even sure at what you're asking for.

Separating himself from you again, he continues working his fingers deep into you.

"You wanna cum, pretty girl? S'that it? Wanna cum all over my fingers?" You moan louder in response, clenching around him harder as you do.

"Go ahead, be a good good and cum for me. Come on, honey. Cum for me." That's all you need to hear before you're hurtling off the edge of your release.

You release with a silent cry, all the air being punched right out of you. Your body feels weightless, like you were thrown up into the clouds and not being able to come down.

Your whole body shakes, tears streaming down your face, all while your hole pulses and quivers around Eddie's fingers. A gush of wetness coats his fingers, a big puddle under your ass, leaving another stain on his bed seats.

He watches in awe as you hit your peak, how your back arches off of the bed and how you look so fucking perfect like this. The shy girl that never got experience this kind joy, now swims in the ocean of euphoria of the climax. He feels so lucky to witness this, to be the first and last person to ever see you this vulnerable.

Eddie wishes he could paint this moment, make a portrait of the way your kiss bitten lips form the perfect O, make the brushstrokes of your hair and some of it sticks to your sweaty face. You're so beautiful and he doesn't know how blessed to be yours.

When you float back down to earth, to the springy mattress of Eddie's, you take a moment to catch your breath. When he removes his fingers from you, you weakly hiss from movement and he offers a quiet sorry.

Moving back up to his knees, he hovers over you and smiles brightly down at you. Smiling weakly back at you, he uses the hand that's not supporting his weight to place it on your jaw. His thumb brushes back and forth and you melt right into it.

"How was that?" Pink tints his cheeks, grinning ear to ear.

You chuckle weakly, shaking your head in disbelief.

"I think I went to outer space for a second there."

A booming laugh leaves his chest and it makes you smile even harder. Your heart feels so full and so happy. You're so in love with him and it makes you delirious. You want to see him like this for the rest of your life, big smiles and even big laughter, so pretty and delicate only for you.

"Well I'm glad you enjoyed yourself there, space cadet." Leaning down to press his lips to yours, your soak in the feeling of it. When he moves away you pout at him, and he bops you on the nose with his finger.

"I was thinkin' I could return the favor, big boy." You whisper seductively.

"Oh baby, that sounds wonderful but-," He makes eye contact with you, "I need to be in you like yesterday because that, right there was the hottest thing I've ever witness."

"I happen to be a romantic. So I shall wait until my fair maiden is okay to resume our activities." Closing his eyes with pride, he places a hand on his heart.

Hiding your face with your hands, you bust out laughing at his little antics and when you peek between his fingers you see his teeth flashing back at you. Removing your hands from your face, you tuck a loose tendril behind his ear.

"You're a dork, but that sounds good to me."

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Thank you all for reading! I loves you all and hope you enjoyed!!!

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[aimedis]

guy & honey headcanons 🍕🍯

"you are getting close.. hi! hi baby, i love you..."

honey calls guy “baby” occasionally (it's quite frequent actually) and he loves it so much

guy is good at reigning himself in now because of the one time honey seemed to get a little too exasperated with him and he felt horrible and closed his mouth for the rest of the day (they had a talk about boundaries and each person’s needs in their relationship and it’s never happened again)

honey has little moments of being clingy with guy but in the way that they just like to hold him and tell him that they love him without snarky comments (they claim they can’t do it all the time because they can’t have guy getting a big head, them being mean to him is to keep the world in balance) 

guy physically can’t handle it when honey flirts back with him or initiates any affection, he gets very very flustered and his eloquence flies out the window (cue guy’s face blowing up red and honey laughing at him)

it doesn’t matter how long they’ve been together, sometimes honey being any more than two inches in front of guy makes him nervous as hell

sometimes honey can’t help but smile at guy all adoring like

honey loves playing with guy's hair. sometimes when he's talking, they'll just run their fingers through it and it automatically makes him shut up and lean into their hand

honey and guy don't argue a lot and when they do it doesn't really get heated, they just talk for hours on end about whatever they're disagreeing about

they have movie nights where they just watch really shitty movies/shows and make fun of them while eating candy and snacks

honey sometimes plays horror/thriller movies on purpose just so guy can snuggle up to them in fear and hide in their neck (also so he clings onto them at bedtime)

guy almost never wants to be big spoon (when they both want to be little spoon, they'll rock paper scissors for it but if he loses, guy starts whining so much that honey just lets him be little spoon anyways)

sometimes guy comes home from a long day and can't stand the thought of speaking another word so honey just puts on his favourite show and holds him

honey plays solitaire and they're not very good at it (guy finds them raging over the fucking card game at their computer)

honey does their work in bed sometimes and guy just snuggles up to them to fall asleep to the keyboard clicking sounds

guy is only semi-good at cooking anything that's not pizza and honey is really good at so they do most of the cooking

guy bakes a lot though (he stress and apology bakes)

whenever the two are on the couch together, more often than not guy's head is on honey's lap

honey has adapted guy's colourful vocabulary subconsciously and the only reason they noticed, was because when they were speaking to a friend they said something guy would say as a joke and the friend was like "...what?"

the two have a billion inside jokes

honey gets stressed out very often and guy just holds their hand while they rant

a lot of the time when guy is rambling about nothing, honey is just playing with his fingers

honey's clothes are also guy's clothes

guy gets jealous frequently. but it's like a play jealous. honey can't even speak of another person's name or he'll go on a 20 minute rant about how they don't need anyone else in their life other than him (as a joke of course)

honey's type of jealous is a raised eyebrow and a "hm."

guy got his wisdom teeth taken out and he was in a constant cycle of "you're so pretty i wish you were my partner" "i am your partner, guy" "...really?? :0" for three hours until he fell asleep long enough for the anesthesia to wear off

they're both usually awake at the same time in the morning but guy usually leaves first. honey kisses him in the three exact spots every single day before he leaves (forehead, nose, and lips)

sometimes guy bites honey when they're not paying enough attention to him

their song is good-old fashioned lover boy (remastered 2011) by queen

guy just stares at honey a lot, admiring them

honey also stares back at guy when he's talking. guy has stopped mid-rant so many times because they were looking at him so deeply

guy loves kissing honey on the lips

honey loves kissing guy's forehead

both of their love languages are quality time and acts of service

they have "nuh uh" "yuh huh" battles every day

sometimes guy calls honey when he's on break just to talk because the people at his job don't deserve the level of yap he gets when he's with them

guy is constantly trying to get honey to stay in bed with him and sleep in

whenever honey does or says something really sweet, guy starts crying because he knows how hard it is for them to show their affection so blatantly

honey "helps" guy shave (they're just doing it for him)

guy does honey's hair for them

they're the type of couple to do different things in the bathroom at the same time (guy will be brushing his teeth while honey showers)

they watch celebrity scandal recap videos in bed together

honey has fallen asleep during one of guy's rants before (his voice relaxes them unfortunately)

honey is just as much of a menace to guy as he is to them

whenever anything happens, the other is always the first to know (work drama, family drama, big news etc.)

[inmyheaddd]

ravi singh boyfriend headcannons

a/n: omg this has been sitting in my drafts for agesss sorry 😭 need to write for ravi more he’s so bf wc: 1k taglist: @heartwithsimplenotes @anintellectualintellectual @thecircularlibrary masterlist

your parents literally like him more than you now, and boy does he know it. 

you’d come back home to find him in your room sitting on your bed.

“oh, you’re back! was waiting for you for hours— i started to think something terribly awful happened to you.” he got up from the bed in an instant, wrapping his arm around your side and giving you a quick peck on your head.

“hi ravi, um who-“ you furrowed your brows as you looked back to your door then back at him. “who let you in?” 

“oh, your brother did.” he stated matter of factly as you both went to sit down on the bed. “then your parents asked me to stay for lunch, then your dog started playing with me, then i started to miss you so i came up to your room. it smells just like you in here.” 

one thing caught your attention. “then you started to miss me? wow, i see how it is…” you shook your head dramatically and frowned in faux disdain. 

he shot you a smile, “what can i say? the whole family likes me, it’s not my fault.” 

“well i don’t like you.” you crossed your arms over your chest. sarcastic bits like this with ravi happened constantly. 

“oh, you especially like me.” his lips turned up into a slow grin and he poked your shoulder, breaking your annoyed facade and making you laugh. 

ravi makes new nicknames for you all the time.

you were talking a walk, telling him about your day when you paused abruptly and turned away from him, ravi looking at you confusedly and raising a brow.

then you sneezed, and then you sneezed again.

“woah, bless you.” he said through a chuckle, “and bless you again.”

after you tried to resume talking only to be interrupted by a sneeze for the third time, he spoke up.

“sweetheart, you’re going to be holy by the end of the day with how many blesses you’re getting.” he bent down slightly to get a better look at your face. “are you alright?”

you sniffled slightly, “yeah i’m—“ sneeze “i’m fine.” you said as your cleared your throat.

“okay sneezy,” he said as he slung an arm around your shoulder, not caring about getting sick himself, “how about we get you home, you take some medicine while i make you some soup, and you tell me what a spectacular cook i am?” 

“but you’re a horrible cook.” you muttered with a light laugh.

“i’m sorry, what was that?” he bent down slightly with a large grin on his face, “you’re so excited and can’t wait? oh, you’re too sweet to me, sneezy. what did i ever do to deserve you?” he quipped back as kissed the top of your head, before steering you two back to walk back to your house.

he kept calling you ‘sneezy’ the rest of the night and for days after that.

“would you stop calling me that?” you asked.

he took a second before answering, putting a finger on his chin and looking up, before shrugging and simply saying, “no.”

a week later he was the sick one, (he hates being sick. “this is what i get for spending time with my beautiful, amazing, but incredibly ill girlfriend?”) and he would still call you sneezy. 

as much as you wouldn’t like to admit it, you were missing the other cuter nicknames he would call you like crazy. but to be fair sneezy did grow on you. 

his sneezes could make a deaf man hear again. 

you were both sitting in silence, focus only on the horror movie playing on the tv and his sneeze literally made you scream and jump off the couch in fear. you thought you were about to meet your end.

“oh my- ravi!” you said breathlessly as you put a hand over your heart, catching your breath.

he was an absolute laughing wreck at your reaction, and all he had to say was, “what, no bless me?” 

speaking of scaring you, his favorite ways to greet you unexpectedly is hugs from behind, telling you how much he missed you and kissing your head. 

that, or placing his hands on either your shoulders or waist, jolting you and yelling at the same time.

you always know it’s him but you get nightmarishly scared every single time. there’s no in between. 

you two have a playlist together and when you’re away, he’d randomly send you a screenshot of a song on it with something along the lines of, “this song reminds me of you.”

when he has to go on a long car ride alone he sends you updates by the hour. literally.

your texts:

ravishingly handsome — Hour one, all is good. Some bastard cut me off and another nearly rear ended me, but still, all is good 👍 

you — oh my god ravi 

you — are you okay?!?!

you — pls call me when u can 

ravishingly handsome — I’m actually perfectly fine

ravishingly handsome — Felt a strong urge to curse them out and hit something, then I thought about your face and oddly enough I felt perfectly peachy, if not a little happy 😃🙂

you — no you did not 😭 possibly giggling and kicking my feet rn

you — ur emojis make me laugh out loud 

ravishingly handsome — I think I’M the one making you laugh out loud, not my emoji choices

ravishingly handsome — Also, call me any time. Always free for you.

he texts like an old man honestly, but you love it. 

he’s the type to not be on social media too much, so when you say a reference/ joke he just thinks you’re insanely funny. 

you don’t have the heart to tell him it’s not your joke.

you start to influence him though, and he has little pieces of your slang/ way of talking in his everyday talking.

obvious but, he is a proud member of the sassy man apocalypse. 

all of your parents are now best friends because you and ravi spend so much time together and are always at eachothers houses.

it’s gotten to the point when sometimes your mom texts ravi’s mom to ask you to clean your room when you get back, because you aren’t answering your phone. 

sleepovers that last days are very common occurrences. 

you’re always wearing his sweaters, and he secretly loves seeing them on you so much. 

forehead kisses are 24/7, along with interlinked hands and his thumb running circles on your knuckles.

he doesn’t believe in all that toxic masculinity BS, but when you hold his bicep when walking, his heart flutters a little.

he’s always mentioning you, and your friends harmlessly poke fun at him for the way he can’t stop smiling whenever your name is mentioned, or how he can’t stop talking about you.

you both adore the small quiet moments, like him putting a necklace he bought you on you, or running your fingers through his hair after he’s had a stressful day. 

sometimes he cuts himself off when talking to you, or forgets what he’s saying simply because he thinks you’re so gorgeous.

you act annoyed and tell him to “stop that,” but the flush on your face and the way you bite back a smile says otherwise.

[radicalreliablerandomness]

Podcast Rec Masterpost

I've been asked a couple times for podcast recommendations so I thought I'd post a compilation of some shows and a bit of info about them. Most shows I talk about are tagged below (I ran out of tags) so you can look through fan content as well if you're not one to care about spoilers. My asks are still open for personalized recs if you send me some others that you've listened to just because I love you, yes that's right! You. The person reading this right now!

Here goes!

Dungeons And Daddies *not a BDSM podcast

This show is a dnd actual play podcast. The first season is about four dads from our world lost in the Forgotten Realms in search of their lost sons. It’s a comedy but as with all comedies, you will cry by the end of it. It's super easy to get into with great chemistry between all the cast players and the dm, no prior knowledge of dnd is necessary. They do invoke slight horror sometimes so do keep an eye out for content warnings. Season 1 has 68.5 episodes along with bonus content and a mini campaign in between seasons 1 and 2. Season 2 is currently ongoing. Transcripts available.

The Bright Sessions

This is a science fiction podcast. The premise is a collection of clinical recordings of superpowered people's therapy sessions. The plot gets more interesting and convoluted as you get further in. Incredible voice acting filled with emotion. Does have some heavier discussions so be on the lookout for content warnings. It has 7 seasons (the last two are technically not part of the first five seasons' plot) and is completed. Transcripts available.

Hello From the Hallowoods

A post-apocalyptic fiction podcast. A beautifully written and preformed podcast that explores identity, religion, and other themes in vignettes throughout this haunted world narrated by an omniscient being. Some heavier topics are included so check the content warning before each episode. Seasons 1 and 2 are completed and season 3 will be done soon. Transcripts available.

The Magnus Archives

A horror fiction podcast. A well written chronological story told through anthology which seem to be tape recordings from a paranormal investigation institute. Incredible writing and actors that really bring it to life. This is horror so make sure to check the content warnings. The show is completed at 5 seasons. Transcripts available.

Neighbourly

Another horror fiction podcast! An interesting look into all the houses on Little Street and their peculiarities. Some more peculiar than others. The podcast is absolutely delightful with a horribly fun narrator. I would suggest checking the content warnings as some episodes are more intense than others. The show has 2 completed seasons. Transcripts available.

The Fall of the House of Sunshine

A musical mystery fiction podcast. The first season is about an investigation on the murder of a beloved host of a children's tooth-themed show. That's all I can say without spoilers. There are 3 incredible seasons along with short stories in between each season. Transcripts available until halfway through season 2.

Welcome to Nightvale

Possibly the most well known science fiction podcast, it really speaks for itself but I'll do my spiel anyways. Recorded as snippets of a daily radio broadcast, the show details the weird goings on in this strange desert town of Nightvale. Narrated almost completely by the radio host's smooth voice. It's ongoing and is currently sitting at 233 episodes. Transcripts available.

The Two Princes

A fictional queer romance podcast. It takes place in that special part of fiction that always starts with "once upon a time," it feels like a story book almost. The show is based around two boys meeting in the woods. Spoiler alert: they fall in love. It's just a cute feel good show. The podcast is complete at 3 seasons. Spotify auto-generated transcripts available.

What's the Frequency?

A self described psychedelic noir podcast. It's an absolute blast even if it is a bit hard to follow. Takes place in the 1940s in LA when all radio broadcasts were turned to static. You kind of just have to go with it until you get to the end. Completed at 12 episodes. Transcripts available.

Story Break

A writer's room podcast. The basic concept behind Story Break is 3 Hollywood writers in a room together take a prompt and try to make a story for it in an hour. There are many laughs in this podcast and just all around good humor and vibes. The show is complete at 169 episodes plus two full movie scripts. No transcript.

Who Killed Avril Lavigne

A science fiction podcast. It's about a time traveling pop punk loser and that's all you need to know. It's a podmusical so you'll be getting great nostalgic pop punk type songs along with crying from laughing so hard. Completed at 8 episodes. No transcript.

The Behemoth

A fiction podcast. Based around an unexplainable creature emerging from the ocean and how the world, and one girl in particular, deal with this phenomenon. It is pretty short with the longest episode being about 12 minutes. Completed at 20 episodes. No transcript.

Rude Tales of Magic

A dnd actual play podcast. It is mainly focused on the actual roleplay and story telling as opposed to the actual play. A handful of college students from Polaris University fuck the world up by completing a hazing ritual which in this case is a supposedly demon summoning. Obviously now they need to fix the world. Currently 64 episodes and ongoing. No transcript.

Midnight Burger

A very well written fiction podcast. It’s about a time/space traveling diner where the employees try to help solve a problem every place they land. Think Doctor Who adjacent vibes but with more drama. There is an overarching plot that comes together so look out for that. It has incredible characters that are really nicely fleshed out. You’ll somehow like and hate all of them as much as possible in the best way. Currently has 29 episodes of the main feed and a 9 episode mini-series. Transcript available.

Monstrous Agonies

A fiction podcast. It’s an radio advice segment on a station for “liminal Britain” aka the monstrous world to put it plainly. It’s really chill and comforting. There’s very good advice there and the intermittent ad reads will have you giggling to yourself. Episodes are on the shorter side, averaging about 15 minutes each. It does have some heavier discussions so make sure to check the content warnings. The show is completed at 111 episodes through 3 seasons. Transcripts available.

Desert Skies

A fiction podcast. The voice acting in this one is incredible, it’s the same person the whole time. The show as a whole is also just super well done. The premise is that when you die you show up on a highway and get to this astral pit stop. I’m not going to spoil it anymore you just have to experience it. There is an additional show, Desert Skies FM that's a buddy to this one. I recommend listening to both. Season 1 was completed at 12 episodes. Transcripts available.

Wooden Overcoats

A sitcom dramedy podcast. The show is about two siblings that run a funeral home on an island. It used to be the only one, it isn’t anymore. It has a wacky cast of characters and even wackier plot points. The dialogue can be a little hard to get used to at the beginning but once you get into it it flows easily. The show is completed at 4 seasons. Transcripts available.

Greater Boston

An audio drama podcast. It's set in Boston if you couldn't tell from the title and starts with the death of a man on a rollercoaster. It blends real life with some subtle (and at times not-so-subtle) fantasy elements. It's currently at 4 completed seasons. Transcript available.

Gay Future

A science fiction podcast. In a world where everyone is gay in the future we focus on this one straight kid. Following his journey to destroy the government who are making everyone gay. This is a satire by the way. 1 season completed at 6 episodes. No transcripts.

Death by Dying

A dark comedy podcast. The show follows an obituary writer while he does things that are totally under the jurisdiction of his job. A well written and preformed show. There are a lot of laughs and obviously some heartbreaks as well. Currently 1 completed season with season 2 sitting at 2 episodes for a bit now. Transcript available.

Not Another D&D Podcast

An actual play dnd podcast. This one's more mainstream than my other podcasts so I don't talk about it as much but that doesn't mean it's not incredible. The first campaign is about 3 adventurers off to save the world. Obviously. It can be a bit slow in the beginning but anything past the second half of the first season is incredible. There's humor, drama, love, and much more. The DM is also just incredible. 1 completed season, a couple mini campaigns, and the second season is currently at 43 episodes. No transcripts.

Forgive Me!

A fiction podcast. It starts based around vignettes of confessionals in this small town taken by a new father in the local church. An overarching plot is present but it's generally a feel good, sweet and simple show. They have 2 complete seasons with season 3 currently at 9 episodes. Transcripts available.

Real Housewives of D&D

An actual play dnd podcast. This show is based around the concept of a "Real Housewives..." type show but you don't need to know anything about those to listen to this. It's about 4 reality TV stars thrown into a magical fantasy world with no knowledge of how to get home. There's drama, excitement, danger, and lots more. The first season was just completed at 16 episodes. Transcripts available.

The Silt Verses

A horror fiction podcast. Two people who worship a banned god travel together up a river in a pilgrimage. There is incredible worldbuilding in this show along with acting and sound design. This is horror and a very good one at that so make sure you check content warnings. Season 1 and 2 are completed and season 3 is at 2 episodes so far. Transcripts available.

The Land Whale Murders

A comedy fiction podcast. It takes place in the year 1899 and is about a pair of friends? maybe not, that metaphorically explore the world they're living in. It is a commentary on the world we live in and the problems in it through a hilarious and wacky cast. There are currently 17 episodes between both seasons 1 and 2. Transcripts available.

Elaine's Cooking for the Soul

A post-apocalyptic cooking podcast. The show is about a dentist who makes her way through the fallout of an apocalypse while also making a cooking podcast. It does have depictions of violence, war, and dentistry so check out the content warnings. There are 2 completed seasons. No transcripts.

Fawx and Stallion

A mystery podcast. If you hate Sherlock Holmes you'll love this podcast. Also if you love Sherlock Holmes you'll love this podcast. It's based around the detectives who live across the street from Holmes at 224B Baker street. It's pretty goofy. Season 1 is completed. Transcripts available.

The Amelia Project

A fiction podcast. Follow the shenanigans of this death-faking organization as they take in new clients and hear their stories. It does develop an actual overarching plot later on but every second is fun. Seasons 1-4 have been completed and season 5 is in progress. Transcripts available.

A Voice From Darkness

A horror podcast. It's centered around a radio show hosted by Dr. Malcolm Ryder, Parapsychologist. He helps people who call into his show with supernatural problems, gives PSAs and warnings about strange happenings, and more. Season 1 is completed and season 2 is at 9 episodes. Transcripts available.

Station Arcadia

A dystopian fiction podcast. Formatted through a radio show, it tells the story of a world that's slowly dying. There are vignettes of different characters through different areas of the world. Season 1 is completed at 25 episodes. Transcripts available.

Margaret's Garden

A science fiction podcast. It has two plots running at the same time which keeps you on your toes but makes for an intriguing story line. In one plot line, two agents are sent to investigate the strange happenings of a weird little long abandoned town. Simultaneously, we hear from the past of that town as it catches up to the agents. Completed at 10 episodes. Transcripts available.

Camp Here & There

A horror comedy podcast. It's recorded as a set of daily announcements over a loudspeaker at a totally normal summer camp. The announcements are made by the camp nurse and he's also totally normal. I promise. Make sure to check in with the content warnings as some topics are a little mature or graphic. There are currently 34 episodes. Transcripts available.

Wayward Guide for the Untrained Eye

A companion horror podcast. This is actually a bit meta because it is the result of a youtube series. This show is the one the podcast hosts in the series release, it's definitely worth both the watch and the listen though. It's got werewolves and drama. Completed at 10 episodes of video and 10 of the podcast. No transcripts.

I am in Eskew

A horror podcast. It's about a man who's trapped in a city where the buildings always change and the rain never stops. There's a weird monotonous creeping horror in this show that just draws you in. Check for content warnings definitely. Completed at 30 episodes. Transcripts available.

Traveling Light

A comfy cozy fiction podcast. It follows The Traveller on their exploration through space, visiting alien planets and collecting stories to send back to their community. For supporters of the show, it almost functions as a choose-your-own-adventure with choices to vote on and listener submissions. It's made by the same people as Monstrous Agonies so if you enjoyed that, you'd enjoy this and vice versa. There are currently 16 episodes. Transcripts available.

Not yet described but still recommended:

Eeler’s Choice

The Secret of St Kilda

The Endless Ocean

The Department of Variance of Somewhere, Ohio

The Sword & The Stoner

World Gone Wrong: a fictional chat show about friendship at the end of the world

Travelling Light

Waterlogged

Brimstone Valley Mall

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Mcr headcanon: y/n (gn) is starring in a horror movie and they’re character d!es in the movie.

Like they d!e in a HORRIBLE way, like horrifying way, how do the boys react to it?

TW: mentions of a fictional character's death, mentions of food, mentions of jealousy

Gerard

I'm literally on my way back from a Yosakoi festival after getting up at 3am (it's 9pm currently, I had 4 hours of sleep), and my feet have been in soaking wet shoes for the past 10 hours (I think they're starting to develop gills) because the rainy season decided to made a comeback and they had to cancel the fireworks because of that (at a festival that's called a "fire carnival" of all events), and you're coming with this? Not formatted properly because I'm literally sitting in a bus, that's driving through the Kyūshū night while I have glitter stones stuck to my face and two braids with Yukata-hair-accessories on my head.

WC: ???

Assuming Gerard knows what's gonna happen, he's probably looking forward to it. He's sitting in your living room, watching the screen attentively, the snacks you were sharing long forgotten as his eyes follow the action. He's leant forward, ellbows on knees, asking "oh, is this where it happens?" in an almost gleeful voice. Depending on how sudden the scene happens, he either gets jumpscared or just follows the story like the most interesting lecture. Either way he ends up laughing, and leaning back into the couch once it's over, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and kissing your forehead. "Well done," he'll tell you with his lips pressed to your forehead.

Would he watch that movie again: sure! It's a good movie! Next time he'd like to discuss the foreshadowing of the ending through the use of colours and the weather in the early scenes of the movie.

Mikey

Mikey loves horror movies, and that his s/o is staring in one is just a major plus to him. He has a lot of experience with horro movies, so he catches on pretty early that your character is going to die, even if you didn't tell him. He would low-key get excited about it. A voice in the back of his head tells him that 15 or 20 years ago the idea of watching a character that has the face of a beloved person die on screen would have terrified him, even though he was very well able to tell fiction from reality, but now he just enjoys the action, as he feels you cuddled into his side. He might even go as far as offer ideas for even more gruesome deaths, or ways to make the character's death even more painful for the audience.

Would he watch that movie again: absolutely! Has the potential to become a new favourite of his.

Side note: my seatmate just fell asleep on my shoulder. I shall not move until she wakes up.

Ray

Ray would generally be pretty chill about it. He grew up with horror movies too, and he is used to seeing you on screen, so he isn't all too bothered by it, but probably more bothered than Gerard. He doesn't show it all too openly, only pulls you in after the scene is over and praises your work. The only indication that he is more affected by it than he lets on is when he pulls you in a little tighter that night, holding you close to his warm body with his nose buried against your neck. (Seatmate just tried sitting up, and failed. Head is back on my shoulder.)

Would he watch that movie again: he wouldn't necessarily bring it up by himself. If he wants to see you act, there are other movies you're in, where you get a happy end, or at least don't die (he prefers watching those over watching your character die, even if he has to suffer through watching you kiss another actor or actress in front of the camera. It always makes him a bit more self-conscious watching you kiss those perfect people, even if it's not real, and he get a bit more clingy than usual for a few days afterwards.)

Seatmate sat up again, is leaning towards the other side now.

Frank

Frank plays is cool, but isn't. Like the others he has seen enough horror movies and has seen you enough on screen. He's even okay with your characters making out with other characters on screen, even though he does have a (well controlled) possessive side that usually tries to act up when some person is hitting on you. (Seatmate's head is back on my shoulder. She's so cute.) So he knows he shouldn't feel that pit in his stomach opening, it's just fiction after all, you're right here next to him, babbling about how hot the studio was that day while playing with his fingers. Still he closes his eyes at the last shot showing your character staring up right past the camera with lifeless eyes. He has watched your characters die on screen before, but something about the way this is portrayed hits different. "Whoa, that looked pretty real," he'd chuckle, his voice a little more shaky than he'd like to admit, "rad acting there!" Luckily you know him well enough to see through his facade. You know he's self-conscious about his feelings towards this scene, so you don't address it directly, but you scoot a little closer to him at night, and he takes the invitation, and wrappes you in his arms (which is rare, since he usually needs a little bit of space to fall asleep).

Would he watch that movie again: only if you asked and he couldn't come up with an excuse not to watch it. He'd rather not see this last shot of your face again.

And since nobody asked, you get a picture of our banner

[howlsofbloodhounds]

What's your opinion on Dadmare aus?

I don’t think much about Dadmare aus, or not very often. I don’t have anything against them and whenever I come across content i usually think it’s cute and like the post before moving on, but i don’t seek it out and hardly engage in it.

This is mostly because i haven’t found an interpretation of dadmare aus ive been able to get invested in, most interpretations ive come across just aren’t for me.

My biggest “issues” (but not really) with most interpretations is that nightmare is almost always portrayed as a perfect dad who can do no wrong, all the other sanses are infantilized to hell and back, and as @/signanothername said in their own post, none of the characters feel like their own people.

Their relationships to eachother and Nightmare all feel very one note and cut from the same mold most of the time. All the same reactions, all completely trust Nightmare and kiss the ground he walks on.

I don’t mind found family, but I don’t like it when the found family is shoved into little boxes and cannot differ from them.

Nightmare is 500+ years old, did not grow up with any significant parent figure in his life despite winging it on taking care of Dream, and spent his 6 early years of life being routinely abused by all the adults around him. And then he was horribly transformed and corrupted.

Why would he take on a parental role again when the last time he tried something like that he was also a child, he had no other choice, and everything went to shit despite it? Wouldn’t he also struggle like any actual parent would.

If he spent 500+ years isolated and only interacting with others when forced to, or needing something from them like negativity, wouldn’t that life experience translate into trying to care for this group of traumatized men.

And they are men. They aren’t boys. They’re adults. Unless they’re supposed to be actual children when they meet Nightmare, or one or all of them are age regressed, then I don’t see the point in infantilizing them or treating them as if they’re children. None of these guys are looking for a father figure.

Adults can be found family, there doesn’t need to be any dad or child or siblings boxes to me.

Especially not when Horror already has a brother, Killer’s concept of family dynamics is also very likey screwed to hell and back (just look at what he thinks about any relationship, there’s no such thing as “equals” in his eyes, killer in dadmare dynamics would probably just view it as another role and game he has to play and “dadmare” is his new Chara), Nightmare killed his mother and his currently trying to kill his brother after trapping him in stone for years.

Dust killed his brother and is constantly haunted by his hallucination, Cross destroyed his entire AU and also came from an entirely different AU with a completely different life from the others. (Alphys being his sister, for example. Horror having lobotomized his Alphys and Killer having likely killed and tortured his many times and Dust having murdered his.)

So tldr: I don’t mind dadmare, but it personally isn’t for me. I like found family bad sanses, but not if there’s roles assigned and not if it’s not earned.

I don’t like Nightmare being the perfect father somehow and the sanses being treated like children even though they’re 30-40+ adults and aren’t looking for a father figure.

I prefer dysfunctional found family dynamics with the bad sanses.

Also that some people aren’t likely to be overly emotionally involved or invested in these dynamics for a very long time if at all, even if he plays along as if its all a game or some elaborate test being played on him— either because he thinks he has to, or because it’s something new and he’s curious. He may even get bored of the dynamics eventually, and start asking Nightmare when it’s game over.

Which could lead to something very interesting if he realizes it was never supposed to be a game or a test.

[anon-sect]

Can you turn me (a nerd) into my bully (the gassiest jock frat boys) fart absorbing underwear?

Picture source: @conradsbeautifulmen

Kevin had been doing Henry's homework for the past three semesters, on the sake of not being a human punching bag at their dorm room. Henry was athletic jock that joined the fraternity last semester. He viewed Kevin as annoying initially. But it was when he saw how smart he was, he used him to do his homework for him. He made sure to room with him each semester for that purpose.

One day, Kevin had enough of his bully jock roommate bossing him around and doing his homework. It was true he wasn't as muscular as his jock roommate, but he could at least stand up to him for once. Maybe he would stop if he did it just one time. So, he purposely decided not to finish a paper for Henry that was actually due the next morning.

"Where is my assignment, nerd?" Henry walked into the dorm room after a gym session. He looked seriously at his nerd roommate. He needed that paper to turn into class in the morning. "I need another A just like you always do." He added.

Kevin looked him in the eyes. "I didn't finish it. You will have to do it on your own." He spoke in a defiant tone to let Henry know he was done being his toy.

"What was that you said?" Henry asked back, thinking the nerd was trying to tell a joke. "I didn't think I heard you right."

"I am not going to finish it or do anymore of your homework. Get someone else to do it." Kevin spoke back, standing his ground.

"I suggest you get to finishing it or you will be sorry. There are worse fates than being a human punching bag." Heny threatened as he pulled out his phone. He recently downloaded the TF Pro app to his phone. He wanted to see if it was true that any cell phone could be used to repurpose objects or people into something else.

Kevin refused to be bullied into obeying his jock roommate. "I won't do it." He spoke even more defiantly than before.

Henry pointed his phone at Kevin and hit the flash option. With one flash, he saw his nerd roommate become a nice new pair of Calvin Klein underwear. He picked up the underwear off the floor and examined them. "Very nice underwear. I told you there are worse fates than being a punching bag. Now you get to be up close and personal with my ass, nerd." He spoke to his underwear with a devious smile on his face.

Kevin was immobilized and had no voice. From what Henry said, he knew what he was now. He was literally underwear. He would rather be a punching bag. He also discovered that his face was in the rear instead of the front of the underwear. He watched in horror as he saw Henry slide his legs through and slide him up around his waist. His face was directly up close to his ass.

Henry put on some shorts and sat down to play a quick game. He remembered that he had Mexican for lunch earlier. He wasn't gassy at the gym, but he could feel it now. He let out a fart that smelled foul. He waved in front of his nose because of the smell. He then thought about Kevin. It must be ten times worse for him. He laughed at that thought.

Kevin had no way to move or get away. The foul stench coming from Henry butt was so disgusting and foul. With his face being at the rear, he felt the full force of it. Several more gaseous farts followed as Henry continued to sit on his face and game. The stench was so horrible up close that he would have gagged everything out of his stomach if he had a human body.

After two hours, Henry decided to finish the paper that was started. Before he would, he pulled down his underwear. "Since you didn't do as I asked, your punishment will be to be my underwear for the next two years till I graduate. I will decide then whether to release you or keep you. I hope you enjoy your view." He laughed as he got started to finish up his assignment.

Kevin figured his bully jock roommate would not let him go so soon. He really didn't want to be stuck this way forever. He hoped that he would change him back soon than that.

[applestorms]

do you have lawlight fic recs

*cracks knuckles*

(Not) According to Plan by FlamesRise: this fic was Fundamental to me figuring out what my ideal light (smut) characterization is. fun lawlight lawyers au that is also mostly kinda just about light manipulating himself into an uncomfortable sexual scenario yay👍(this really sets the stage for what the rest of these recs are gonna look like so prepare yourself lmfao. aka these are gonna be like, 90% questionable smut and/or dead dove, i just don't read much else... 🫠 oops)

blood in the walls of the yagami house (series) by qu_ilinn: gotta put the lawlight brocon on there since this is basically what got me into the DN fandom. grins. one of the best Terrible Horrible L depictions ever, i love this series sm lolol <33

rewards for fools by autumnstar88: cough. and so we notice a trend. this is once again light putting himself in a horny situation he's uncomfortable with and then freaking out as he likes it too much LOL, this time set immediately after he gets his memories back during yotsuba. light in a skirt, what else is there to say.

caligula would have blushed by findingsaturn: medical kink going wilddddd this blew my fucking mind the first time i read it. an absolutely delectable ratio of body horror to weird sex stuff, chefs kiss. i also rec corrosive wash and self-surgery, by the same author.

literally anything from the alignmentverse by praise_lilith and tsukinousagi: this is easily one of my favorite lawlight series, every single fic in this collection is absolutely fucking golden. 10/10 some of the funniest light and L characterization ever.

A complex fool and a simplex fool. by gomikyun: also some hilarious lawlight characterization, this time in the canonverse. i don't usually go for bottom L but this is The Exception. shout out to that one time i took like three hours searching for this just to find this stellar quote:

Why, why didn't I do this before? L has to hold himself back from letting out a whiny groan. He should have just pushed Light down and fucked himself ontop of him instead of playing tennis on that stupid fucking court. Would have been a great icebreaker. And made headlines, probably. ‘Hideki Ryuga and Light Yagami, top scorers on the To-Oh entrance exams have a friendly game of… gay sex on the tennis court. This year is looking to be quite interesting!’

Diamond by exAm: another top 3 for me in terms of lawlight being funny and horrible. one of if not The best het lawlight dynamic i've ever read (man light/woman L, in this case). light is such an egotistical, stupid asshole here, hubris through the fucking roof, and it works fantastic. also fun to see L dealing w/ canon-typical DN sexism LMFAO

Back to then by LiveLongEatWell: this one just has great smut idk what else to say. shrugs. also L obsessively fucking himself into the worst possible scenario lolol here's how KIRA could've actually won

Trading Blows and Idle Hands by gayraito (Mercurial_Magic): more yotsuba smut shenanigans, very fun. honestly most things by this author are great, hard to pick just one... The Gift is also great and somewhat inspired some of my own android light in superegos (read my lawlight fics too 🫵 boy)

draw it out by emmerii: VERY noncon no-memories light. smiles. this one makes me actually insane hides in my evil little corner

actually if we're doing the more heavily dead dove ones, there's also Take Me With You or Let Me Follow by WhyDoesEverythingHappenSoMuch and I will take what's mine, create what god would never design by FlamesRise for the specific concept of L being a freak over L's corpse. necrophilia warning? :]

Kouyaku by Not_default: basically a KIRA wins au where L doesn't actually die. sometimes L deserves to be the one locked in the basement ig. very very nice

The Dreadful Need by the_gabih: somewhat non-traditional omegaverse au that is also just about very dubcon prison sex. this makes my brain fucking melt please don't ask why

Perfect Life by foreskinsmoothie: probably the longest thing on this list, this one Fucked Me Up when i finished it a couple weeks ago. OCD light to the extreme, which is additionally Made Worse by L kidnapping him for shits and giggles 👍 that being said, i absolutely adore the ending of this one, so. if you can get past the graphic self-amputation, this is a (very fucked up) lil treat :>

Kira's Guide to the Munchies by plant1r: ok this is more like matsulight but i have to include it for light's characterization alone, AND ALSO NEAR. one of the best near depictions ever. this is hysterical, my favorite weed light fic everrr

praise the sweetness by cxtangerina: read my fic boy 🫵 cult leader L au. unreality apocalypse world wammy's cult weirdness. what more can i say. this is probably gonna have a meronia sequel in the near future so watch out for that (after i post this other lawlight fic anyway, which is ALMOSTTT done uwu everybody clap)

that enuf for you anon?

[bbluesrreality]

Increasingly comical gender war porno where tboys try to forcemasc gangbang me and trans girls try to forcefem gangbang me.

Pink and blue hallway. Whistle blows and 12-20 trans people run in to tug-of-war my body back to their respective rooms. When we pass a certain threshold the other team must relent for a full minute.

Pulled into the girls’ tufted, rose gold bedroom first, I’m pushed into a makeover at the foot of the bed. Holding my head still to brush my hair, filing my nails, and getting my boring, neutral socks and shoes off.

When the boys bust in having taken the ref’s whistle, hollering and swirling their shirts above their heads, the girls are too offended and honestly too polite to properly stop them from whisking me off. The fire two passes are choreographed for pacing, then the game really opens up. After the first two minutes, I’ve toggled PVP mode on. My co-stars have been made aware who among them is a stone top and who is else is a CNC switch down for wrestling play on the side of the main action. Any good team fight will involve into side some 1v1s, 2v1s, you know? Ad-lib away. The camera remains here with the girls as they strategize.

The boys room is a locker room, of course. They waste no time getting into dirty hazing rituals, men only want one thing after all. I’m on my knees in a corner, metal lockers cold on my back, they stuffed briefs out of my mouth and press tdicks hot on my tongue, impatient, competitive hands in my hair, begging for a wet moment. They pulled my hands away to touch themselves with, but one took enough pity on me to grind his work boot into my dick.

The ladies enter the room like it’s a SWAT raid, with their makeup brushes and palettes up like they’re guns, and the boys react as such. “Get on the ground! I’ve got a pop of color!” Is terrifying to the fragility of masculinity! They put their hands up. The ones who get on the ground get made fun of, Nelson style. There’s a beat for the girls to hit the men who make fun of other men for listening to women. The police moment is played entirely for camp, not horror.

One woman takes a guy by the neck and advances on him. None of his buddies quite have the courage to help, all being threatened with Models’s Own Gold Sand highlighter at his cheek, or Ink Velvet 06 lip stain held at his mouth.

She pushes him through the middle of the room, backing him up to the lockers. The camera follows, closing in on them, suffocating him with her. Everyone quietly watches. “Your skin… is going to be so supple…” he wails “Noooo!” As a friend pumps moisturizer in her hand to apply with two fingers, outwards from the bridge of his nose. The men cry out and rush to save him from this horrible fate and I’m carried off in the confusion. It seems like I haven’t been making any of my own choices, but I haven’t protested to a single thing that’s happened to me.

It’s clothes this time- torn fishnets slip up my legs, they’re groping my legs and barely, gently, patiently grazing my pussy as the goth girls move onto eyeliner. Coos like “Oh, you’re so soft here!” And “I can’t wait to find out what your shaving pattern is” in my ear, giggling and talking about me between themselves right in front of me, the way only populars at a sleepover with a perfect idiot subject to teach do.

They only get one wing on before the boys enter, a clear leader this time, more organized and efficient in their capture, but at the end, a straggler’s been left…. A tboy hostage. Perfect. This specific guy has been preselected, he is comfortable with drag.

I’m laid back on the bench this time, tights getting more and more torn, it looks like I’m thrashing, but their ripping them is just pulling my legs every which way. There’s cock in my holes and my hands and they’re slapping my abs and pinching my nipples and laughing at every sound of pleasure or pain. There’s no right answer, no real way to get praise here.

“This is what we’ll do to you”

The camera whips over and the women have entered silently offscreen. They’re leaning against lockers having stripped a man and put him in a tiara, a clear plastic pleated ultramini skirt and Pleasers that make him look like a deer. Their holding him up just off his balance point. One woman lights a cigarette.

They forgot about their boy! Women knew the boys would be too distracted with sex for solidarity. He writhes against the headlock to no avail, getting his nipples pinched.

A particularly bearded guy steps up. Ideally one that the girl given this line has a huge crush on IRL.

“Oh yeah? How are you gonna do that… when I do THIS?”

He tackles her with a kiss as she giggles and everyone forms a ring to watch them wrestle. When he starts winning, her girlfriends come in to back him up. “Hey that’s not fair, he’s juiced!” The brawl multiplies until almost everyone’s involved and some people take out pouches of pink and blue powder to throw at/spread on each other and it turns into a full on silly, sexy gender war wrestling match. Maybe there are more back and forth between the rooms passes with be before we shift into this mode of the film but I want to allow room to insert other people’s ideas there so I don’t want to over script. Act 2 is A fast-paced, messy, jackrabbit fucking, screaming and fighting and laughing and yelling and hitting and playfighthatefuck orgy playing out. I’d like to talk to the cast and crew about what shots they think men like to see in porn most, and put them here. Tittyfucking. Close up hole slamming. The angles in this scene are reminiscent of those you see in studio pornography, as explicit and exposing and NSFW as possible, wholeheartedly embracing of the feelings of being degraded and exploited and used as an object/total control. The findom who has a higher price for physical contact than what I could ever budget for this film watches her cigarette smoke in the corner. Her eyebrows come together for a moment. The fire alarm goes off and she protects her hair.

The water washes all the pink and blue powder bombs from the “fight” scene off of us as the new sensation of the rain pushes a few people into orgasm, and then we gather and shift to a more communal rather than combattive second climax, after cleaning each other in the communal shower then moisturizing and massaging we end up sucking and fucking and scissoring and caressing each other in the girls room. I’m now just one of the many beautiful bodies in the sea of girls kissing girls, boys kissing boys, boys fingering girls’ holes, girls pulling boys’ hair, a free love, pleasure forward scene with many orgasms, lots of words of praise and love and intimate, warm artsy shots of naked trans bodies feeling wonderful with each other. We cum many times, service enjoying orgy participants help us clean one more time, we turn down the lights and fall asleep together.

If I want to end it on a gag, the findom in black leather is still clothed and smoking in the corner. Her cigarette sets off this fire alarm too. Everyone groans and she says “Sorry!” , sounding only half like she means it.

Fin. :)

The action and dialogue will be more scripted towards the beginning of the film and opening up as it goes, meaning the production process will take less setup per minute of footage filmed as it progresses, hopefully this will keep set interesting, give us a good amount of time to all get comfortable bantering and with each others’ and the crew around, and make each shot feel like less of a tech slog than the last one. I hope for an efficient, respectful and lively set that is the opposite of a slog and leaves everybody excited to potentially work with each other again in the future.

I feel like maybe I should split the tops by femmes/mascs so that people don’t feel like they need to abide by gender roles they don’t want to. I’m asking people to pick team lipstick and team jersey for a fun role play bit and an excuse to do what a lot of cis people see as dirty gender things, not actually trying to enforce the idea that expression needs to line up with identity. Every aspect of this script is challenge by choice and I would invite all of my collaborators to tell me about changes they would prefer I make, either for physical comfort reasons, because they had a hot idea, or to address a subtextual meaning they derive from my script that they want to make align with their worldview, or body of work, or way of being a fulfilled performer.

While you were studying the blade I was writing barely coherent transgender gender war gangbang concepts on tumblr. Also I want to figure out however they made the colors look like that in But I’m A Cheerleader and do THAT. If there was a moodboard for this idea it would contain multiple shots from that film, from gay think Men.com, or FratX without the dogwhistles, and from Marie Antoinette (2006)??? And all of the beautiful women on twitter who inspire me very much.

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

56 - Wolves Teeth and Claws

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

Length: 16.5k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, character death, blood and disturbing imagery, past traumas and loss, unspecified mental illness/duress, hints of suicidal ideation

Notes: I know the smut has been in a bit of a drought but I promise we're nearing the end of it, just trust me that it has been gone this long for a reason. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

Looking back to the moment everything changed was easier then she would once have thought. Her life so different now, and truly had been for five years, but there were two which stood out. One she preferred not to think of, the memory of watching it followed by the nothing as the utter horror and devastation screaming through her veins forced her to collapse unconscious. If she thought about it too much, she'd feel that ill rising up in her throat and she scarcely wished to think about it anymore.

The other was as much a shocking death as the previous, but the way it changed her life was unusual in contrast to the previous. Much of that day felt a blur by now, much of being forced to endure the normal torment inflicted by the King as for once she was not the immediate target, but now had to sit and watch the torment be endured by, well it was odd to think of him as her husband now, but then she had become used to it in a strange way. Now though, they hadn't spoken nor known the others whereabouts since that moment.

She could hear it so clearly in the silence, the coughing beginning to rise before in a scared panic did Margaery Tyrell shout out to the onlookers, “He's choking,”

Lady Olenna had yelled for them to help the poor boy, before Joffery had dropped the goblet to the ground grasping at his throat, stumbling down into the clearing as he made a strangled wheezing, and then did the woman stand up with an even louder shout of demand.

“Idiots, help your King.”

Sansa had been standing in a sort of shock watching it play out so suddenly when she felt a figure approach her subtly from behind, a voice somewhat familiar in her distant mind telling her, “Come with me.” But she didn't yet move. Joffery had collapsed to the ground almost vomiting up blood in a truly horrible sound as Cersei had run to his side desperately yelling his name in distress. In the back of her head as the voice spoke again, she begun to recognize it as Ser Dontos. “If you want to leave, we have to leave.”

The shock almost split between two sides, one whom understood what he was offering and yearned to turn to go with him but the other froze her feet and eyes to that spot unable to stop watching. Choking horribly as even from where she stood she could see Jofferys skin turn purple, his hand reached out as the crowed turned to look. Picking up the very goblet he dropped in a confused shock of his own was her husband, Tyrion Lannister, before attention drew back to the King just as he stopped moving.

Tears came from Cersei holding her now dead son, before something kicked Sansas senses wake just as Cersei turned to look at Tyrion. Saying that he had done this, he murdered her son. Screaming furiously to the guards to take him and suddenly Sansa felt herself moving backwards.

Just enough that it seemed to indicate to Ser Dontos it was time, grabbing her by both arms he dragged her away before taking her hand as they begun to run from the scene as more yelling by Cersei and then Lord Tywin increased in the background. Giving her a cloak to throw around her to hide what of her appearance she could, Ser Dontos urgently led her through the empty streets of the city as bells begun to toll in the distance. One street then the next, over the rocks and down cut to a set of stairs leading to the water with just a small boat as he told her to get in.

Asking where they were going, Ser Dontos only told her, “Somewhere safe.”

Sansa had turned to look up to the city that had kept her there for over three years and in a sudden moment did she wonder, was this how you felt? Fleeing from the city with your only chance of survival, did you turn to look before leaving for good? Wondering if it was the right choice? Leaving behind who you'd be forced too? She had never once blamed you for leaving, she had watched Joffery order her father beheaded, she was smart enough to know if you had not ran, she'd have watched the same fate fall to you.

But, Sansa didn't think as long as she suspected you did. You were forced to leave three Starks behind but who was she leaving behind? There were people who were kind to her of course. Margaery tried her best to ensure she felt as if she had support and a friend, she cared deeply about her handmaiden Shae who always tried to protect her, and she was now leaving behind Tyrion whom she never before thought she'd care about leaving behind. They were forced into a marriage together, but he had shown her a compassion she didn't expect.

Trying to ensure her this marriage wasn't because he asked for it, and that while he didn't really know how she felt, she didn't know how he felt and in that way they were on a similar level. Even before having to finally walk out of her chambers and make her way to the sept he tried and even succeeded to make her laugh to ease the clear nerves in her. How the dread within her filled as Joffery had begun yelling about the bedding ceremony before it all came to a halt as through his rather drunk state, Tyrion had threatened him in front of the crowd for demanding it. He was still clearly drunk as they stood in his chambers alone, but as nervous as she was, he was just as uncomfortable considering both her age and unwillingness to lay with him.

Saying he would not share her bed until she wished for him to do so, and even a promise that he'd never force her if she never wanted to share it. It was not a marriage either expected nor wanted but after that it got easier to handle. Through the pain of deaths which came next it still was a bit easier, but standing at the boat that afternoon Sansa had realized why you made your choice.

The opportunity was right in her face, if she didn't take it, she may never leave Kings Landing again, or alive. So she got in, and the new chapter of her life had begun. A new name, a new identity, a new family and home. Petyr Baelish had come through on his promise to help her escape Kings Landing, but in turn Sansa knew the second she walked through the Bloody Gate, she was no longer herself.

Hiding her away in the Vale, she was thusly given the name Alyane Stone. Posing as Petyr's bastard daughter, which was nowhere near ideal but it was the only option she had. And in such a short time there, too much had happened which tested her ability to keep up with this new ruse, and it was a test she realized, she had passed.

She and her cousin Robin had gotten into a childish fight, and Sansa had reacted as rotten as he did by slapping the boy. Petyr had come to her as Robin ran away, and if it was Petyrs kiss she thought she did not know how to react to, she was wrong. Her Aunt Lysa had confronted her about it. Something Sansa never asked or wished to happen, and her Aunt Lysa dragged her to hang over the open moondoor yelling such horrible things. And before her eyes, Petyr had convinced her to let her go, and thusly pushed Lysa out of the moondoor himself.

The Lords and Ladies of the Vale had questioned him about what happened, and she was too brought to answer for being a witness. She did not know what he told them, but despite everything, he had kept her safe. Even from her own aunt, he kept her safe. What would he tell them? What story would a man like him spin? It was a blind guess what he would say, and she took it. But Sansa too had one last trick, because even though he kept her safe, his kiss in the courtyard told her that she might never be able to truly trust him. So, she looked to Ser Yohn Royce, whom knew her father, and revealed who she was. In tears not even now did she know were real, she managed to sell the lie Petyr wanted, all the while placed herself in a position where the others too would have reason to want to protect her. Not having to rely on him alone.

And so it all begun. She was Alyane Stone from that moment on, playing her part.

She knew the plan, what to do, how to act, what to say and prepared for the plan he told her of. Until the day he called her into his study, and a new truth was revealed. The things he had been keeping from her was to not overwhelm her as he put proper plans into place, but things had changed he said. Something of an opportunity had arisen, and he could bring her home. Take her safely to Winterfell, where her long passed brothers crown awaited it's proper heir. And with Petyrs help and connection to the Vale, she had more then just the remains of a Northern army at her aid should need be.

But she was so far removed from her previous life, that Sansa had not questioned certain things which in retrospective, she wished she would have before leaving.

Once more she was asked to return to being Sansa Stark, but it had been two years. Alyane was who she was, but now she had to go back to Sansa. But Sansa had not been anywhere near home or family in five years. What was she to expect getting there? Petyr assured her it would be a big day for the North, returning her there. So in that journey, slowly letting the dark coloured dye in her hair finally wash away to the colour which so vividly reminded her of her mother, she grappled with what her life could be being home again.

She never thought she'd see Winterfell again, but he had told her what she thought was the truth. With Robb dead, with you dead, and no son nor heir between you both alive, nor her brothers or sister alive either, she was not only her fathers lawful heir, but Robb’s too. The only trueborn left, he assured the North was hers by right. That wasn't what Sansa had preyed for in the night when thinking of home, but this was the way in which would get her there, so she would take it, and embrace it. The idea of being Queen sounded far better then the two years she had spent posing as nothing but a bastard.

As she laid eyes on her once home, it looked..different. The same, yet different. Parts of it still in ruin, many places once burned down but now being rebuilt. Did it's insides look the same? Was her room still there? So many questions she had with wide eyes looking out of the carriage's translucent window at her home. There were nerves in her like a girl, but also excitement all the same. She knew what to expect, and what to do, Petyr had prepared her for it.

But the guards seemed apprehensive about her presence even when assured it was indeed her, and then they had told them to wait. That before allowing them in, that Lady Stark needed to be informed of their arrival. But her mother was dead. You were dead. Arya was dead. It baffled her who that could mean if not her mother or sisters. She was welcomed home, Petyr told her. They awaited her with Robbs crown he said. So why was the air so fraught with tension?

Then the gates opened, and a crowd had gathered within the courtyard. And three figures stood in the middle to receive them, and suddenly Sansa realized that the truth Petyr told her was not going to play out quite the way he promised it would.

Because Arya was alive, but looked not a single bit happy to see her.

She had prepared for it. What was coming, and what to do. The days before did the council and trusted allies gather in the quiet of a study to discuss what options there were, and to answer the unknown question of intent. What did both parties arriving seek? But Arya had less and less faith that they were arriving with good intentions the more Selyse spoke of what she knew about Littlefinger.

Her brows narrowed with a disdain in her tone as she spoke, “Stannis had to outlaw all forms of prostitution on Dragonstone just to get his spies out of watching his actions.” When questioning gaze arose, she clarified further. “The only person on the small council he knew he could not manipulate was him, knowing were Stannis to take the Iron Throne, Lord Baelish’s head would be on a spike before the night was out. My husband knew not for a moment to trust anything he claims to your face.”

Maege Mormont leaning with her palms braced against the table with her jaw clenched, muttering through her teeth. “Anyone else feel it is a mighty coincidence that the time he finally chooses to come all the way up here, also lines up to where our King and Queen have been gone for months?”

Narrowing his eyes, Theon stood with his arms crossed next to Arya. “You think he would try to take advantage of their absence?”

Eyes somewhat turned more to Selyse, knowing out of them all she was the closest any had to true eyes on what he was like between Stannis and your encounters. “He does not have any claim in the North, but if one who does comes with him on her side, then it would not be unlike how he found control of the Vale. By marrying Jon Arryn's widow, following her death, he becomes the acting Lord of the Vale in practice if not by name.”

Arya felt that feeling arise once more. This wasn't fair, it wasn't right. She did not leave Kings Landing wishing to leave Sansa behind, she had even told Jaqen that she could not yet go to Bravvos with him because on top of you, her mother and brother, Arya needed to find Sansa too. But this was not the way she wanted her older sister to return home.

Would their word enough be convincing to her? Because the truth was right there in Aryas face, she was not a fool in what way it could look. One on hand, Sansa may come home and learning that Jon rules as Robbs successor, she could see that in the eyes of how the Iron Throne would consider such a thing. Little more then a false King, a usurper. But on the other hand, the way those around Arya like Maege Mormont, like Galbert Glover, others who were standing in place of the Lord that did sign off like Smalljon Umber too, they had all agreed and signed off as witnesses that Robb Stark’s decree of inheritance and succession was solid and unanimously approved of.

But they did not have to listen. Robb was dead, you were not a Northerner and since you had not given birth to Robb's heir, your ties to the North could have stopped then and there. They could have ignored your words, your plight and much like how Cersei Lannister refused to honour her dead Kings words, so the North could Robbs. Smalljon Umber had described the day they crowned him to her months previous.

Jon had accepted it much like Robb apparently. Neither said anything, not a yes or no to the words of the Lords around them putting up their support for such a claim. Brothers both, the North had understood their silence and the responsibility of such a weight could be handled. But even moreso then Robb, it was Jon who arguably they would fight for harder, because this time, the war they fought was nothing like the other and only Jon knew it. No one in the North ever had to defend the position of Stark King to their fellow Northmen, but they knew fighting for a Stark Blooded King named Snow would be an inevitable should someone decide he has no right.

They had chosen Robb as the first King in the North since Torrhen Stark, and he led them as their own independent people in a war to free themselves from the yoke of the south. When they crowned him, you as his wife already, was crowned Queen. And from everything Arya understood, you were seen differently as a Queen then many others. Cersei only had her power once Robert was gone, Margaery Tyrell was not a Queen with her own power over the people at King Tommen's side. Even in front of her, Selyse was a Queen at Stannis Baratheon's side but she held little sway in her husbands actions.

As Arya stood as Lady of Winterfell in place of Jon title of King, Selyse was there in place of you only as something like Queen Mother. You had the respect of the North when you were at Robbs side as if you were his equal when your own crowning was only complimentary to the crowning they truly chose in Robb.

But they kept looking to you as Queen even when Robb was gone, it was why the Boltons needed you. The North still respected you as Queen, had Jon refused, they still would have looked to you. And that day, they looked to you as you looked to Jon and Arya knew that it was not honouring law alone that they chose Jon. Robbs will was what convinced Jon to accept this title, but it was the people still who decided for themselves.

You had died and returned to life, Jon had died and you returned him to life and now you both were out there alone to protect the North from a war which would come for everyone should nothing be done about it. Jon had found allies to the North, and he had come from far less privilege then even his own brother. The North would not back down on him now, Arya was certain of it.

Which meant she could not back down either. “If they are coming now beacuse he knows Jon isn't here to stand up for himself, that means we cannot give Littlefinger any reason to think he could sway our opinion. As soon as he finds what he thinks is a weakness, he'll exploit it.”

Someone speaking up to ask about Sansa, and Arya knew she had to stand firm in her choice the way Jon would, the way Robb or their father would. She could still hear her fathers voice.

“Now winter is truly coming. And in the winter, we must protect ourselves, look after one another. Sansa is your sister. We cannot fight a war amongst ourselves.”

Arya didn’t want to fight Sansa on their own family, but she would do what needs to be done to protect the family she returned to Westeros for. She had sat in the inn seeing Hot Pie doing well after all these years, recalling how instantly she called him a liar the moment he said Jon was King in the North. The way which he instantly came back asking why he’d make such a thing up. The way you were dragged before that thing pretending to be her mother and defended with your life at risk, Jons right to hold such a title.

She couldn’t allow that all to be taken away from him now. To return and think everyone had turned their backs on him the moment his sister came home. She wouldn’t allow Sansa to use how much she looked down on Jon for being a bastard to her advantage, not now. So a plan was made, and all they could do from that point on was wait. Only a matter of days before she would arrive. Sansa was welcome in her home, but Littlefinger and his weasely tricks were not.

As the room cleared, Selyse had stopped the silent Gendry, mostly there for Arya’s sake. Turning partway to her saying she needed a word with him in private. Waiting now outside the room, she wracked her brain trying to think what issue needed to be said between the two of them of all people.

By the time he emerged, as they walked down the halls both knew he could sense her questioning stare. Not even looking at her as he asked, “Are you waiting for something?”

Prompting him with a further look she knew he was pretending not to see, Arya now alone felt no shame in pestering him. “What was that about?” Gendry only replies dryly that it was private, an emphasis on what they both heard Selyse say. But Arya narrowed her gaze. “So it’s something so private you can’t tell me about but can talk about it to her?” It was not an offence towards her, but an oddity she did not grasp.

Your name came out of his mouth with an ease, “Maybe it was about her. She’s her mother afterall.”

Arya snapped out with as much quick dryness as he normally could deliver to her. “You have a mysterious friendship with her you won’t tell me about, and now you have a secret, what? Kinship with her mother you won’t tell me about?” His lack of response only made her more annoyed and they both knew it was intentional. “You know I’m in charge right? Which means you shouldn’t be keeping secrets from the person in charge.”

Gendry though was not deterred and once again, Arya knew it was to pester her right back. “So what outranks what? The King in the North’s little sister or the Queen in the North’s mother? Queen sounds like it should outrank Lady of Winterfell.” The smirk across his face when her own fell in annoyance. Multiple times a week she’d tell him to stop calling her that, most people around her addressed her by her name anyways, which is what she repeated then and there. “To other highborns, maybe. How many servants and maids around here don’t call you milady?”

Her glare spoke the answer they both knew and once more she dropped the issue before she shoved him into the wall and walked off. But Gendry pulled the discussion back to the matter at hand bothering her most. “Do you really think your sister is going to try and claim the North for herself?”

“If she’s coming with Littlefinger, then yes. He wouldn’t travel a thousand miles just to deliver her to the gate and then leave.” Your name leaving her mouth again, “He tried to have her killed so she’d be out of his way. He betrayed her and my father in Kings Landing. Tricked my mother into betraying Robb. Sansa is only his newest way to try and destroy my family from the inside all over again.”

But by the time night would come, Arya sat in her chambers once more at her desk. Pulling out a small journal, ready to be opened right near the middle as she added another line to the already filled out two pages. Not needing to even count, she already knew the number as she muttered it aloud to the quiet room in a defeated tone. “One hundred and ninety four.”

That was how many days Jon and you were gone. She tried not to let it bother her, knowing six moons had passed now and Jon had told her he didn’t know when they were coming back. Arya was fairly certain you did not know she was aware you left already pregnant, but how far would that make you? Eight moons? Nine? Would the baby inside you even survive a journey like that?

It was a horrible feeling, that you may one day return with nothing in your arms. Jon would blame himself, for bringing you out there in the first place. But he had no choice, he assured her he had no choice and this was what needed to be done. But the closer she crept up on ticking away two hundred days, the worse she felt about it all. With you both out there, that made four members of her family lost to the far North. Six if she included Ghost and Summer. Seven if she included what was supposed to be her niece or nephew. All for the coming winter storms.

Why did the cost have to be her family? So much of her family when already too much was gone as it was? How was Arya supposed to hold Jons position forever when he deserved it, when she wanted him to come back and have it once more?

Two more days had passed when finally through Nymeria’s eyes did she see them. Her own direwolf leading a pack of her own around the North as if protecting it while the King in the North could not, she saw them. They had yet to reunite together, but Nymeria and Arya still were connected, and they both still protected the ones and places she loved. It would be within the hour she’d arrive at the gates. And Arya went to Selyse, went to Theon, and then as the men all converged on the courtyard for the worst, and the three of them descended out into the cold. Selyse was as stern as she’d ever seen the woman but reminded Arya so much of you.

Theon was nearly unreadable, he was most often these days now. But he stood tall beside Arya in the home he once ruined, now here to defend it with her if need be. Arya stood in the middle between them in the clearing as the gates opened and in came a carriage, and a group of men on horseback, likely guards.

Then he emerged first. No words in the cold air was spoken as he then reached in to assist the other to climb out. The last she had seen of her sister was as she collapsed to the ground after their Illyn Payne took their fathers head, but this was not at all the sister she saw screaming and crying desperately for them to stop.

She was taller then Arya remembered, and even more beautiful as she’d grown into a woman. Her hair still long and an orange tinted red, even moreso then their mother, the rest of her distinguished and developed in a way Arya knew she wasn’t. That was the first thing that came out of Jons mouth when they reunited, only a joke of asking how after all this time was she still so small. Her clothes though, blacks and greys as her cloak matched that of Littlefingers as they came to stand beside one another.

She certainly looked like Sansa, but in another way, it was as if Arya was looking at a complete stranger. A stranger, who looked shocked and confused to see her. “Arya?” Nothing, she said and did nothing yet. Letting Sansa find the greeting on her own. “I thought you were-”

But something impulsive spoke, interrupting Sansa with a shortness. “Well, I’m not.”

Sansa almost looked confused, as if seeing her sister again not being filled with a happiness was something foreign to her. But there was a whirlwind of feelings as the two sisters looked at one another. Arya wanted to be happy, wanted to go to the sister she hadn’t seen in years and hug. But she wasn’t, and she didn’t. Sansa at the least, picked up on it, and the very quiet courtyard of people around as she took a step forward, which Arya matched.

“What’s he doing here?” Eyes flickering to the curiously watching Littlefinger, Sansa followed the glance and then back as he begun to speak. Only for Arya to cut in but with far less patience. “I asked my sister, not you.” The weasel of a man did not look deterred but with a curiosity she hated. Peeling her gaze back to the much more apprehensive Sansa, Arya asked once more. “What is he doing here?”

Her brows furrowing, Sansa struggled it looked, to keep up with the tension. “He brought me here, he’s helping me.”

“The way he helped father?” Arya’s darkening eyes finally met his narrowing ones. If he thought she was just a girl who was in over her head, he was wrong. She never trusted him, and now she trusted him even less. Sansa tried saying she didn’t know what she was talking about. “Don’t you?”

Selyse tried to even the rising tension out, glancing between both girls with a calm, lower tone. “I believe we are getting into matters best discussed inside.” Sansa asked who she was and Arya once again looked even more suspiciously at her when she seemed again, confused by the answer as your name came from her mouth. “She is my daughter.”

Taking control once more, Arya did not allow more questions. “She’s right.” Softening just the smallest bit, hoping Sansa could pick up on it. “You’re home now, you should get settled in before we do this.” Sansa first turned to Littlefinger, and it was his nod that had them both move forward before all attitude returned. “Not him. Winterfell is my sisters home, not yours.”

His voice was exactly as she remembered, and it angered her just as much. Feigning ignorance when they both knew why Arya did not want him near. “The castle too crowded?”

Selyse was the one who offered it, the even third party between them all it felt. “Perhaps it would be wise, my lord, if you allowed the girls their privacy after so many years. There is an inn on the edge of Winter Town I’m sure would be happy to house such a well paying guest.”

The man could at least read the tension in the air. Backing off with a smile she could not trust, but seemed to fool Sansa. “Of course, who am I to get in the way of a happy family reunion?” Sansa turned quickly to look at him, but whatever look he gave her seemed to be of a bit of comfort. “We’ll speak later. Get used to being home first.”

Arya barley glanced to the side, which was enough of a command for Theon to turn to guards under his command. “Lads, escort Lord Baelish into Winter Town. See to it he and his men get to an inn without issue.” Or delay both thought. Of course, the men were under instruction to then stay there, to not let a man like him wander her home on his own, but he could find out that in his own time.

For now, as the nerves eased in the courtyard, Arya rose an eyebrow to Sansa. “I assume you still remember where everything is.”

“Hopefully.” Sansa’s light tone should have been funny, and again Arya thought, they should have hugged. But they didn’t, and neither sister made a move to do anything even close to that.

Most of the crowd was gone when the small few of a group remained as the rest continued about their duties in the grounds. The scoffing sound of Maege filled the air as she came up beside Selyse, gesturing her head tilt towards the woman with your name. “And I thought her reunion with her father was the most loveless thing I’ve ever seen. Made those two look downright affectionate.” Selyse managed to muster part of a laugh in agreement.

Arya though, she looked over to Theon whose expression as a doubtful as her own. His voice low speaking mostly to her alone. “Would be a bad look to have guards following her around. I think that’s more of the duty for someone smaller. Quicker.”

A small smirk finally peeked onto her face. “Stealthier?”

His own grin finally came through to match. “Exactly.” He was not wrong, everyone had their instructions and now was not the time to let it all fall apart. Turning to go inside though, Arya did notice it was odd that for once where he’d be seen working away by the armoury, Gendry was absolutely nowhere to be seen.

In her own way, she shouldn’t have been shocked that she ended up where she did. Most of them it seemed gravitated to the crypts once they were once again within Winterfell. The pull to family lost after so many years all spent apart, the morbid wonder of who was there, and more importantly they wondered, which ones of them weren’t.

For Arya, she knew her sister likely wondered if there would be four of them, but in truth there was only half that and only one statue when there should’ve been two. Seeing her standing still in the distance, her expression was unreadable. Only the two of them had been there that day, and it haunted them both but how much did that matter in the now, Arya didn’t know. Their father would’ve wanted them to come together again, nor did Arya wish to do this in front of him, but they were alone down here.

Sansa no doubt heard her approaching footsteps, but did not turn to look her way. Allowing Arya to come within a few feet as they both stood near one another facing the statue of their father. The crackle of fire the only sound within the vicinity, until her voice spoke out finally in a solemn sort of quiet. “It doesn’t really look like him.”

Arya’s gaze didn’t move, staying on the statue. “I think it does. Whenever he was serious, he always looked stern like that.” Neither sister said anything for a moment, but he knew thoughts were brewing in the head beside her.

When speaking them outloud, she dared not interrupt this part. She let it be about family first, allow her sister to take in the grief as she had when coming down here. “Bran and Robb aren’t here.”

Short Arya’s tone was. “No.” Asking why not, she pushed down that strangling darkness in her throat which she last felt. Seeing you again, the finality knowing Robb would never be brought home and how both refused to let the other go until that pain had come down from something so overwhelming of the matter. Instead, she chose the route of less pain in her heart. “Because Bran isn’t dead.”

From the corner of her eye she could see Sansa turning wide eyed to face her, but Arya once more did not turn away. “Bran’s alive?” Only a slow nod, her jaw a little more clenched as she continued to force herself together. “What happened-”

Cutting her off, she put the details as concise as she could manage. “Bran and Rickon ran away, and Theon never found them. So he had one of his men kill two orphan boys, and burn the bodies so people thought he caught and killed them.” She could her the trailing start of Sansa finding a defence, and yet Arya did what you had done for many months on your own. “Leave it, Sansa. Theon paid for what he did but he never killed them. Never wanted to hurt them. He killed Ser Rodrick because he thought he had to, but he knew Bran and Rickon their whole lives. He’d never actually hurt them on purpose.”

But the weight was heavy between them, and Arya braced herself to tell her sister what had hurt terribly when Jon told her. Sansa’s voice was little more then a held back whisper. “What happened to Rickon?”

Jaw clenched, she felt herself tensing her hands at her sides trying not to let that feeling overwhelm her, and in such a prospect she knew she was leaving details out. If not to pile too much on at once, then to prevent herself from trying to imagine it too much. “The Boltons found him and killed him. I don’t know much about it, Jon saw it happen. Not me.”

Aryas eyes however, did peel to the side to watch her sister now, but she gave nothing away while the topic was still on Rickon. “When was this?” Arya answering that it was around a year ago, but that again she was not there when it happened. Sansa it seemed though, switched to something else rather then address what was going unsaid. “What happened to you, where did you go?”

Turning to face one another, Arya inhaled with her eyes narrowing. As if to figure out once more what details she deserved. Once more, she kept it rather simple. “I was on the run, the whole war and even after, I was out there. Just trying to survive. But then I had no one left, and no way to get to Castle Black on my own, so I left.” Sansa asked to where, and her answer seemed to confuse her. “To Bravvos. I had met someone who was from there, I thought he could help me.”

“Did he?”

Arya didn’t answer. She still did not know that answer. Did seeking out the House of Black and White help her? Or did it make her worse, did it push away what she was trying to hold onto, to a point she still was seeking parts of herself.

Vividly she could recall that evening. Carefully folding away all of her things, and dropping it into the water. But then she stood there. Holding Needle in both hands and every time her fingers asked to open, she clutched it harder as the tears welled up behind her eyes even more. It was all she had left, it was the one thing that was hers and always had been. It was home, but more importantly, it was her brother.

She stood there on the dock, and she could see Jons smile and the feeling as if she’d be a monster came over her should she throw it into the water too. So she buried it. Hid it. And every single night Arya would think of going to seek it out but didn’t, because until she thought becoming Arya Stark once more was safe, she could not cease being nothing but a girl.

But she did leave. She did return home, and brought Needle with her because it was Jon she was coming home for, and Needle was just as much part of her as her memories of her brother was.

Just as her name left Sansa’s mouth, did Arya interrupt now pivoting to face her. “Why did you come here?” Whatever excuse left her mouth came off too much as deflection and Arya stepped closer looking up with much more distrust. “Jons held Winterfell for well over a year, it’s been safe to come home for over a year. Why only come now? Why did you bring him?”

“I told you he was helping me-”

Arya couldn’t help the way her voice raised. “The way he helped father before betraying him?” Sansa claimed almost defensively that he had no choice but it only caused Arya to come off with an even stronger anger. “No choice but to help send out father to his death?”

Sansa rose her voice as well. “Petyr didn’t do that, Joffery did-”

Arya only yelled louder then her. “Because he set father up, he put everything into place for Joffery to kill him. He betrayed him, betrayed our mother, he betrayed Robb,” Finishing as well that he too, had betrayed you as well but Sansa's face twisted into a frown as she turned away. But Arya only moved to follow, forcing her to meet her eyes once more. “How could you ever think he has the right to be here? In our home? What did he tell you?”

Only this time it was Sansa’s turn to switch her own tactics. “You said Jons held Winterfell. He isn’t here.” Arya didn’t say anything, she waited for her sister to get to the point without talking around it. “He’s in the Nights Watch, he can’t just leave to take back a castle.” Arya only said shortly that he did, and pushed her further and further into getting to the root of her point. “Was he only holding it until one of us came back?”

Arya could feel it, what was coming. Despite the beg for it not to, she braced herself regardless as she was honest. “Until I showed up one day, Jon thought I was dead. He didn’t know if Bran was ever coming back, no one knew what happened to you, and Rickon was dead.” But Sansa she realized, picked up on the way she phrased that.

She was very calm as she said it, but with something hiding a confidence she was sure in. “If he thought Bran and I were alive, and then you showed up alive..he was holding it until one of us could come back.” Say it Arya thought, just say what she really came back for. “Robb didn’t have any children when they killed him.”

“No.”

If Sansa picked up on the tight and rigidness of Aryas tone, she said nothing of it as she put it forth as matter of fact as she could. “Which means his crown passes down to us. His oldest living sibling.” Neither said a word, but Arya played this game far better now then Sansa ever could, and remained deathly silent. “If Bran isn’t-”

Arya only then cut her off, she had to get it over with before she left any further ideas get into her head. “It did pass to his oldest living sibling.” Sansa tried interjecting that Arya had just said they thought Bran wasn’t coming back. Arya though, did not even blink. “I wasn’t talking about Bran.”

She knew she had put it together. The referring to Arya as Lady of Winterfell was the biggest clue, she was not ruling as anything more and Sansa’s face only twitched a bit in a disbelief with her doubting tone to match. “Jon’s in the Nights Watch-”

“He isn’t now. Kings can set precedence to pardon men from lifelong vows for urgent royal decrees.”

The two sisters looked to one another, and finally it was said what Arya knew she’d do. “He can’t be a King, he’s a bastard.” It shouldn’t have made Arya as mad as it did, she knew what was coming but it still made her angry. Learning Jon was King in the North, she had never even considered that. He was her brother that was all which mattered. “Bastards can’t inherit-”

“He can if Robb decreed it before he died.” Sansa shortly asked if he did, and Aryas brow raised slightly as if testing her. “Maybe you should ask everyone out there for yourself. He reclaimed Winterfell from the Boltons, he’s the one finishing Robbs work of making the North independent again. No one had to listen, Robb was dead they could’ve ignored his will. But they chose to make Jon the King all on their own.”

Her expression was hard to read, but Arya stood firm as she argued back. “The law has never allowed a bastard to-”

“What law, Sansa? The Iron Throne? He’s not fighting for the Iron Throne, he’s King in the North. He’s following what the last Kings law was, what Robb wanted.”

Sansa was quiet, and Arya hated the next thing she said with a passion. “Robb named him a Stark.”

If she did not grasp the anger on Arya’s face, that was her fault. The anger in her she felt was difficult to keep down. “Jon’s name is still Snow, but he’s always been a Stark. He’s always been one of us, and Robb knew it. Jon has every right to be King.”

The quiet between them was deafening. “If he’s King, why isn’t he here?”

Arya matched the quiet one, not letting her sisters taller stature intimidate her as she stepped into her space looking up at her. “He’s doing what needs to be done.” Sansa only asked what that was, and Arya felt her face harden even more. The feeling petty but unable to be tossed aside that she didn’t deserve a real answer, she wouldn’t even believe it. “Protecting us. All of us.”

Stepping away she had enough, Arya didn’t want to fight more in front of their father, in front of Rickon. “So if you only came here to be Queen, it’s too late. The North already has a King and Queen.”

Turning on the spot, Arya hardly got anywhere away when Sansa had spoke up. “And a Queen?” Turning her body only half way, Aryas brows narrowed at her. “You said a King and a Queen. Wouldn’t that mean Jon got married? To who?”

Arya though, let her head jolt back a bit in confusion. “Littlefinger didn’t tell you as much as he claimed he did, clearly. If you don’t know yet.”

Sansa had yelled an ask of, “Know what?” But Arya left her alone down there. She had told Sansa their brother was King, and all she did was question why he was allowed to be if he was a bastard. She still didn’t get it. At this point, Arya didn’t know if she ever would, and it only made her even more angry.

To say things around Winterfell were tense was an understatement. Both sisters avoided each other, as Arya continued about the duties Jon left for her. The back of her mind she knew it must have stood out that even though her older sister was home, the lords around still spoke to Arya instead. Unsure if it was because now they were simply used to her, or if Sansa had proved herself to be as untrustworthy as Arya feared.

If Sansa had learned where Jon was, she didn’t say anything. If she learned it was you he was married too, she didn’t say anything. If she even learned of both his and your deaths, she didn’t say anything. Arya and Theon barley were around any time Sansa would be for a meal, finding themselves purposely busy elsewhere.

It was all rather uncomfortable, but Arya didn’t know how to approach any of it on her own without accidentally turning the situation into something far closer to a boiling point. A fair number of people stood freely in the meeting hall discussing one thing or another. Arya could see Sansa lingering in the background watchful, but neither sister said any words to each other.

But then they heard a ruckus outside. Muffled as it grew and grew, until it sounded like excitement was found in the courtyard. Looking to the walls as if seeing through it, Arya and Maege traded a glance of question which turned into something brighter and hopeful, certainly on Aryas face as the muffled sounds of what appeared to include the words king and north. The second someone came through the doors it was clear what they were about to say by the level of noise. “My lady, it’s-”

Arya cut him off with wide eyes, seeing no one around her anymore. “My brother?” She did not even hear his next words before her feet begun to move, as did all else in the hall and those still inside slowly making their way out as word spread like a forest fire.

In every truth, it almost was too overwhelming to the point Jon hardly could focus on any of it.

The crowd small, and then more and more people came and then the talking, shouting, and gleeful celebration of their Kings return came which only drew more people. Climbing down from his horse, he was grateful for the small few still rushing through to do their duty as he managed to hand the reigns off to one of the stable boys.

Being who he was had an advantage in the fact that the people moved for him as he could too see the level of people overwhelmed Meera, still atop her own horse. Pushing through, he held an arm out as if to motion for them to move, before grabbing her as she climbed off herself, and brought her back to the side of the cart he had been at with an arm around her shoulders.

They had all spent much time out alone, and Meera even moreso then he and you. It was all loud and overwhelming to the senses but he could hardly focus. The more people came out, the louder it got until they all realized who else was here, which then it fell silent.

Stepping up to the cart, Jon carefully prompted you up with him, guiding you down to the ground as Meera assisted on the other side to ensure the jostle wasn’t too destabilizing for the baby. Pulling you close into his side with one arm wrapped around your back, resting at the upper arm of yours, too keeping the baby close tucked up in your chest, the other at your waist keeping you pressed back into him safely, but there was no denying what they were all now looking at.

His eyes looking over the crowd desperate for someone he could trust without explaining anything when instantly he caught sight of some just emerging with wide eyes. Whispering waved over the people as Jon lifted his head to shout, “Selyse.”

Your mother looked stunned for a moment, but she moved swiftly as Maege beside her acted as the guide for her through the crowd as Jon moved you with him to meet in the middle. Nodding for them to turn around it became a small huddle as Jon spoke lowly for the two women to hear as he guided you to the entrance they came from. “Take her to my chambers, get Maester Wolkan to look at both of them immediately. I’ll be there soon as I can.” Pulling your head just the slightest closer to him, Jon rasped in your ear only for you. “I won’t be long, I promise.” Pressing his lips to your hair, he let Selyse and Maege take over bringing you swiftly out of the noise and into the castle.

As if all understood suddenly, the noise returned in far more yelling. For what they all realized, not only had the King in the North returned after months but he had returned with his Queen and a newborn in your arms. The details would require a proper explanation at a later point, but the laughs and mighty pats and smacks to his arm as he passed, Jon could only return some back with more of a smile gracing his face.

Trying to move back to where Bran and Meera still were, Jon had gotten within a few feet when he heard a voice shouting over the rest. Turning in place in an instant, Jon looked over the crowd knowing damn well she’d see him before he could spot her short stature, but the moment he saw one pushing through the crowds did he shout back. “Arya,”

Not a single moment wasted like the last, neither caring about those watching at all. Jon moved to her as Arya ran to him. And still further not he nor her hesitated as she jumped into him, and Jon caught her. Pulling her tight as she held him tightly back, both relieved beyond anything. Sitting her back to her feet, Jon didn’t hold back in pulling her head close as he leaned down, pressing a firm kiss to his little sister’s forehead. Arya looked up to him with a bright smile. “I missed you.”

Smiling just as much, Jon muttered it right back. “I missed you too. But I wasn’t the only one.” Turning her towards the cart, it was likely, not even half a second before they saw one another.

Bran called to her, Arya called to him, and not wasting any longer did Arya run and practically leap up onto the cart. Were Bran not already sitting she’d have knocked him over, but both wrapped their arms around the other as tight as could be. Jon knew, what he and Arya had were special but Bran and Arya to each other were much like what Robb and Jon were to one another. Close in age, and each others closest companions most of their lives.

The two practically were twins in how much they could once be seen together, always getting into trouble or bickering as if they existed to poke fun at the other. Appearing moreso behind them, Jon braced himself perched by the edge as he smiled brightly at how both were to see each other again after all that time. “I promised you I would bring him home.”

Both laughing but truly refusing to let go yet, it only made sense. Bran was ten and Arya was eleven when they last saw each other, and now at fifteen and sixteen they were so different yet not at all changed. Looking up enough to Jon, his hand running gently down the back of his little brothers head as he joked up to him, “I certainly didn’t make it easy.”

Yet, there were two pairs of eyes in the crowd which did not have anything close to such a reunion. One had watched, but slunk away as if feeling there was not quite the room for how things had been for the days she was there, but as soon as Jon thought he had caught sight of hair he had not seen as long as he had seen Bran, did it disappear.

Arya though, pulled away from Bran. The whispers were unheard by any else, but she knew Jon of all people had to know before walking into the rest of the castle. The other though, is what pulled his attention away from both his siblings or any of the people around to greet them as well. Grey eyes wide as he watched her carefully, it was a pain which she had refused to speak about but it was going to always come out one way or another.

She was still just a girl, and Jon could only wonder if this was the first time Meera had let herself feel the true extent of whatever had happened out there.

Slowly did she start moving through the more parting ways crowd as some returned to what they had been doing or moved into groups, at the same time Howland Reed carved a path through towards her. Meera stood still the moment father and daughter got within a few feet of one another. No words even needed be spoken.

A knowing passed across Howland’s face as he tilted his head in the only question he’d ask about it outright, but the tears on Meera had fallen without her ability to stop them. Slowly she shook her head, but the very second her father stepped into her reach did she break. Not loud enough for any around to notice, and the ones who did recognized it all too knowingly as Jon had.

Howland puled Meera into him, as her arms wrapped desperately around her father. Keeping her tight in his front, he ran a hand over her hair, letting her cry in the safety of his embrace as he briefly glanced up to Jon and Bran. Bran swallowed roughly with something begging to go away washing over his eyes, and Jon nodded one and subtly.

Were Meera not so hidden in her fathers arms, one may have heard her muffled attempt of, “I’m sorry,” through jagged breaths between cries, and the gentle murmuring of her father telling her not to be. In a way, Jon was glad. Well over a week he knew her, and for years to to be keeping that inside and finally letting it out, it was in the arms of her own father to feel that loss.

Watching your brother die in front of you was something not many knew what such agony felt like, nor a parent losing one of their children. But everything she had done for Bran, she was as good as family in Jons eyes. What she wanted next would be up to her, but Jon would ensure she knew just as it was for her father, she too would always have a place in Winterfell for what house Reed has done for Jons family.

There was lots to do, discuss, go over and be brought up to speed on, but right now, the only priority Jon was going to take care of was his family. All of what remained of his was here, or on their way in his uncle’s case. One of which however, Jon did not know what them being here would mean or what it already might mean, but he wouldn’t focus on that now.

She had a place in this reunion, but it was her choice to walk away from being part of it. And whatever way which that would mean for the rest of them going forward, he’d find out in due time. But, Jon had one place to be and much of a crowd to greet in order to make his way there first.

“Would you like to explain how a couple could be that far North for what? A little over six months, and return with a bloody newborn?”

If it were at all possible, which it was, Maege was somehow more irate then your own mother about all of this. Though, you did not yet know if it was being directed at you, or if Jon was going to be on the receiving end of her anger more then you were. It had a chance of going in either direction. Tilting your head, you muttered without much effort, “I presume saying time does not run beyond the Wall the same as here, would not be a believable explanation?” Her eyes narrowed, but yours only softened with a plead. “Jon had no choice-”

“Of course he did-”

Attempting to be firm, but not loud with the baby close to your front you narrowed your eyes at her just as much as she was giving you. “Maege, no one hates that he brought me out there more then Jon himself. If he had a choice, he would never have made one risking any of this, but he did what he needed to do, and so did I.”

The room was quiet, as your mother watched the now silent standoff between yourself and Maege as if the later was the mother you were trying to avoid a lecture from. A small sound though, softened all expressions in an instant as you pulled the still wrapped bundle back from where you held him. Laying him down more comfortably out in your arms, little Eddards eyes started to pry themselves open as his arms now were more free from the fabrics around him.

A gentle shushing came from you, as you moved him in your hold lightly. With all babies it seemed a tender rocking was soothing to them, and the one in your arms was no exception. Selyse and Maege both stepped closer to where you stood holding him but did not invade. The faint trace of a small smile came over you, as he begun to settle before waking up in such a new place with new people could upset him.

It was either you did not notice they could hear you, or part of you simply did not care but not such a soft and loving mutter was ever heard on you from either of them in such a manner as you spoke. “It’s alright, you’re home. We’re finally home, sweet boy. I promise.” The way his eyes shined up at you, it never ceased to strike you thus far the degree to which they looked just like Jon. The green was yours, but even at such a small size and age, you could tell he was going to grow up to look exactly like his father.

Drawing your attention up as Maester Wolkan came in, but unlike either of the two in the room accompanying you, he did not seem surprised at the sight. A small bow before turning to close the door, “My Queen” Turning properly, his calm was somewhat relieving to the nerves running within your blood. “It is truly a relief to find you have returned to us safe and sound.”

That time it was Selyse who spoke up with a slight indigence. “Safe?”

Turning your head barley to the side, you couldn’t even see her but the tone pushed through all the same. “Mother.” No words came back to you as once more you looked to Wolkan as you approached him slowly. Reaching out gently with an ask of permission first, you nodded. Pulling back the covering by the babies head just the slightest to get a first glance at him. Muttering quietly to him in almost a lulling voice, “It’s alright, this is Maester Wolkan. He is here to make sure you’re good and healthy.”

Eyes flickering up to him, the slight worry however was seen painting over your own features. Wolkan asking with a soothing calm, “And does the little one have a name?”

“Eddard.”

You looked not at either womans reaction, not in the right mindset to handle whatever associations in their minds they were making personally. Wolkan though kept his tone soft and even. “A fitting name for a Stark blooded Snow. Would you be comfortable laying him down on the bed, so we could take a closer look at him?”

Nodding, you both moved to the bed, gently holding the back of his head to support him before he lay out comfortably. Undoing the blankets and swaddled shirt keeping him hidden away. Muttering to Wolkan as you sat down on the bed next to the where the baby laid out that you had no clothes to dress him in. “Has be been wrapped up like this the entire time?” Explaining he was more then hidden from the cold even in furs when out beyond, he looked him over with gentle eyes.

Clearly used to interacting with babies, part of you felt nothing but thanks that between all of the maesters you knew, the three most important ones in your life had all been gentle and kind beyond what you knew some were. You dared not imagine how little comfort having your infant tended to by Grandmaester Pycelle would’ve been.

Noting he was rather small, he asked you how long ago was he born. “Over a week. I’m not sure how many days beyond that. Jon would know for certain.” Before he could ask or say anything, you revealed the truth that to a man such as himself he likely already knew. “He was born a month early. I had only reached eight months when he came into this world.”

Whatever shock your mother and Maege had you looked not to such reactions, not now. Telling him of the size the baby was when he was born, and already what of him had grown, Wolkan did not add to the worry you and Jon had felt when seeing for the first time his very small size. “Infants born that early tend to be quite small. Some occasions they will have stunted growth for some time, and others the body compensates too much and they grow too quickly. I presume you have fed him from your own breast?” Nodding yes, Wolkan hummed in thought as he seemed to be almost testing the baby with how he would physically react to certain gentle stimuli. “You have nothing to fear thus far in regards to his size, your grace. Early born infants rely on the nutrients of their mothers milk far more then normal babes. It helps them catch up to the growing they would have done inside you.”

Questions here and there, inspecting parts of him which only a maester would know what it means, he had asked you in passing almost. “What assistance did you have when you laboured him, may I ask?”

You knew your quiet sounded suspicious, but that your answer would catch even more attention from all three parties. “We were a near a week from reaching Castle Black. There was only, Jon, Ghost and I. Jon had to deliver him, himself.”

That time you purposefully were keeping your attention down on the baby, keeping his focus on you to not get upset by still being so exposed to the air around a man he did not know. “The King delivered your son alone?” Biting down on your tongue, you nodded once. You still hated it fell on him, that shouldn’t have been forced to be his responsibility. You couldn’t imagine what you had forced him to feel in those hours practically all alone with how little you could speak through the pain and blood.

By the time Wolkan seemed to come to his assessment, you were nothing but relieved. “He seems, for his size and circumstances to be in extraordinary health. I would suggest we meet every other day to check on his progress until he reaches his proper potential, but otherwise you have nothing to worry about thus far. You and his grace have taken wonderful care of him in such circumstances.”

It was your turn however, and as you wrapped him back up in what you still only had, you felt more nerves then before. Glancing up to the stern silence of both women in the room, you hesitated as you shifted the baby in your arms. Maege found the right words first, passing you by with a comforting hand on your shoulder with a fondness as she looked at you. “I’ll see if we can’t find something proper to dress him in.”

You thanked her in a whisper, but both of you knew she needed nothing of the sort from you. Turning to the other, you gestured down to him. “Would you be alright taking him, mother?”

She stood at once, with a light in her eyes you had not seen in some time. “Of course.” Coming close, as you both exchanged his hold, your mother softened with a smile you hadn’t seen in even longer. “Hello, little one. You’re safe with me, I’m your grandmother.” Holding him calm in her arms, your eyes met. Had you two held such a relationship, you both may have found words for what wanted to be said, but there was none. “Would you want privacy?”

You shook your head though, not sure if you needed another in the room, or perhaps if the idea of little Eddard being so far away again upset you. But she understood. Finding a place comfortable to sit with him, but giving you privacy for what needed to be done, you knew too there were a number of things you would need to explain, and more then a few injuries to elaborate on.

At the very least, your entire time knowing Wolkan had not made you both strangers to seeing such intimate injuries on you, nor was this anywhere near the strangest or most horrifying. Each description increased in the severity of the situations, but by the time the most pressing part came, you could provide little to add. Just an unspeakable pain and more blood then there should have been. You looked at none but the dark stone ceiling above with as little voice as you could provide, trying not to return to that night. For many reasons, but such an important one to be seen to was the least you wished to return to.

You spoke not of the terror that you wouldn’t make it.

By the time you were sat more upright, your mother had come closer. Sitting on the edge of the bed, but not invading your space entirely as she watched with a careful gaze. Wolkan however, seemed to have much more confidence and comfort then either of you. “You will need much rest for the next number of days, but otherwise your injuries have begun healing well all on their own.”

Your mother asking in a quiet doubt which you took no offence towards. “Right after birthing a child, and none of those have long lasting problems?”

Wolkan only shook his head. “I assure you, my lady. Were it to be more severe, she would be in far worse shape then she currently is. Likely most of her current weakness comes from a mixture of exhaustion and strain on the body in general.” Directing his attention towards you, which you had by then moved to more match your mothers position rather then staying laid out on the bed as before. “The worst of the bleeding has all but ceased. Birthing a child that early means you will likely require far less time to heal, but I will need to see to you on a regular basis to ensure no further complications have arisen.”

Merely a nod left you, thinking not to yourself what something darker was asking to be brought up. You had only just gotten back, push that away. Just for now. Handle it tomorrow.

Putting little Eddard, mostly now asleep in a small cradle, your mother seemed to speak for you to Maester Wolkan with little thought to your relative quiet, how little you had yet to move. “I’m sure we will be able to find something suitable enough for him to sleep in properly.”

Wolkan had been putting his own things away slowly. “Lord Stark raised six children, I’m sure somewhere within the storage below we will find an appropriate bed for him.” His attention turning to you, catching your gaze to shoot up suddenly. “We should be able to acquire something before the tomorrow evening.”

You were quiet as you said it, a little dispondant had you the thought to put a word to it. “No need to rush yourselves. He got this far without a bed.” Luckily, muffled voices from outside spared you from any further questioning as your brows narrowed looking towards the door.

Though there was little question as to who was speaking to whom, both strong voices when agitated could grow to a loud yell echoing over top one another. Maege seemed to have found herself at a crossroads with Jon about whether or not he should interrupt, with the later not taking it very well at the insulation that he should give his own wife privacy in these regards. The moment you heard something well along the lines of Jon saying he delivered his son himself, and Maege starting on something about he dragged you out there in the first place your hand rose to press against your forehead as your elbows leaned on your knees.

“Mother, could you go out there and tell them to stop arguing about me where I can hear them?”

Her head tilted a little in an understanding if not a bit of amusement behind her gaze knowing what form of headache could arise in you. Moving swiftly to the door now that little Eddard was settled and asleep in his small cradle on a table closer to the fire, she and Wolkan stood at the door where no doubt both heads turned to see your mothers disapproving stare along with a strict lecturing tone. “If you two are going to argue, I presume taking it elsewhere but the hall would be appropriate.”

Hearing the trail end of Jon asking how you were, the door closed behind the rest of them likely to discuss it as giving you quiet. Slowly standing, you circled around to where little Eddard slept soundly. Your hand rising to rest just enough on the blanket covering his chest that you could feel his faint breathing moving up and down.

It felt strange, knowing he was here and real and yours. It was not a dream you would awake from and find yourself trapped back down in the cold cell of the Dreadfort, alone and feverish. Not the life you once thought you’d have but one similar in the one you once wanted. But the way to such a path was so blood soaked you felt like it all would melt away around you and reveal it was a facade.

Head turning on the spot, the door opened and closed with only enough space for Jon to quickly slip through. Wide eyes as he looked from the bed over to where you actually stood. Whatever was in his hand he didn’t even look as he placed it to the cabinet beside him and walked over to you. Looking you over in the short time he had to cross the way was something shining bright in his eyes as if the worry had yet to realize it didn’t need to stay.

Turning to face him more, you hadn’t even managed to say his name before Jon wasted no more of his time. Cupping your cheeks, Jon leaned down as he too pulled you up to meet his lips. A desperate kiss rough and demanding as if pouring the remaining nerves flowing through him into yours, just as in return you gifted him your sighs. Your hands found his waist at first, but as Jon tilted your jaw up to better keep your lips to his. You let them slide up his chest and around the back of his neck.

Keeping one hand on your jaw as he deepened his kiss, Jon wrapped the other around your waist and back to pull you tight into his front before keeping you there at your hip with a tight hold. Small nibbles to your bottom lip were followed by him chasing to keep you even closer, the hand on your jaw sliding to cup the back of your neck and force you to lean up for him.

The urgency faded a little, replaced by something no less desperate, but begging for you to not pull away yet. Hand adjusting and re adjusting over and over through the strands of hair in his fingers to almost caress his hold as much as it was forcing you to stay in his kiss. His tongue gently running along your lip as you gasped from another small bite, only for his hands to grip you tighter, the manner in which you so easily parted your lips granting his tongue permission to brush over yours. Your hands tightening their grip with your nails digging somewhat into the curls fallen loose from the day as he explored the taste of your mouth gently with a need constantly keeping him pulling you close when you drifted even somewhat.

Not yet letting you go, Jon used his grip on your hip to turn you away from the table. Pushing you further back into the room before the back of your knees came into contact with the edge of the bed. Pulling away just enough, Jon rasped deeply as his breath danced hot across your skin he remained so close. “Sit.”

The moment you tried to gently protest of his name, Jon pulled you back to his lips as soon as he connected them on his own moving forward. Sitting you down your hands braced against the fur below you before seeking Jon out again. Now kneeling before you Jon had to lurch upward to almost hover over you again. As if were he not dragging your lips up to his you might escape, and he could not handle that by how much he cupped your cheeks once more with a force pressing you to his lips that made your lungs start to burn.

Begging for air, but no mercy was granted as he stole each and every but of air you needed, taking all for himself what your needs were to trust he’d give it back. A whimper slipped through just as your nails dug deep into his skin enough indents were made, did he tear himself away. Strands of saliva not yet snapping between you as he tilted your forehead to rest against his. Your chest heaving as you tried to regain your breath, Jon running a hand down your hair at the back of your head.

Through the pounding in your heart, you heard not the door knocking. Only a faint murmur from Jon refusing to let you move from him, telling them to come on. The moment your eyes opened Jon tugged you back to focus on him, eyes closing again naturally from the force it took him to keep you close enough he could push forward hardly an inch and capture your lips again.

Hands smoothing out against his shoulders until voices told him whatever they had been doing was ready. Barley muttering out a thank you as the doors closed, your brows furrowed. Jon only then tilted your forehead down to meet his lips as he pulled back enough to seek your eyes.

The rasp just as deep, but the grey returned to his eyes wide looking now up at you. His touch never leaving by your jaw, cheek or through your hair. “Maege brought him some clothes, and I had them run a bath for you, both of you when he wakes up.” Smoothly running your hands along the skin exposed around his neck, you couldn’t help but look Jon over with a silence but all within it dripped of a gentle feeling you hadn’t been able to give him alone in days upon days. Not realizing your silence, Jon prompted you as he nudged his nose against yours before racing down the length of it. “Do you want to be alone for-”

Shaking your head, your words were more desperate then you expected, or him. “No, no. Please, I want you with me.”

Sighing deeply, Jon nodded. Pulling you in for one more gentle kiss, much more chaste then before. A smile breezing onto his lips as he chased your kiss once, twice more. “Always.”

As if made of porcelain, Jon stood grabbing your hands to pull you up, but never quite let go as he ran them smoothly across your hips. Once more resting his forehead against yours. Your voice small but tender as you let yours sit high on his chest. “I’ll set the record straight with Maege tomorrow. She’s worked up is all, I don’t want her thinking you did anything wrong.”

Only a single nod followed, as Jon moved to pull your head close to kiss your forehead muttering against it. “Don’t worry about that, darling.” Perhaps something sat on your tongue wanting to defend your position, but you didn’t. Allowing him to guide you to the other room, warm and steaming the water begged for you to join. Everything sat out ready, with a smaller basin kept warm nearby as Jon muttered in your ear. “It’ll be his first proper bath.”

Leaning back into his chest as he kept you pressed against him you only smiled faintly once more. “It’ll be his first proper night in his real home.”

Lips finding their way to your neck, Jon murmured against you, letting his hands now drift up to the remaining layers covering your front. “Our first proper night as a family.” Instead of finding a good response, Jon stole your breath again but this time with the swiftness in which he pulled your final layer off from your torso, leaving you exposed to the cold. Muttering back that was all you could ask for, Jon only laughed as he turned you to face him, working now gently on your bottom layers. “We’ll do this right next time. I’ll give you a little girl, and we’ll have her here.”

You only nodded, once again letting a shiver come about as the last of the wretched layers you felt so trapped in for so long were finally off you. Not moving in the slightest, you begun working on Jon. The layers easy to come off, but too did you look forward to being able to take your time again. Work on his many layers, leathers or armour. Undoing every little bit keeping him so well put together that gave you both more intimate quiet then the minute or two this all took in total.

Instantly, your hands found his torso. Palms flat against the scars across him, just as real as they ever were before you shook yourself out of it. Reaching up you reached behind without looking from his grey eyes, letting loose his curls. Running your fingers through them as his jaw clenched ever so briefly as his eyes fluttered. Swallowing rougher, Jon rasped as he pushed lightly at your hip. “Get in for me.”

Little needed to be said, there was little to say at all. First Jon pulling your back into his chest so he could carefully wash your hair and skin, only for you to turn in his grip. Perched in his lap to do the same. Acts so simple for a man and wife but so long forgotten between you both in this manner. Unable to help himself, more then once as you were so close, Jon interrupted your work to pull you by your chin to meet his lips, letting you go to work again as he ran his hands along your waist, then losing that control again and kissing you once more.

Nearly unwilling to let you go for any period of time, even as he pulled you both from the water did he keep you in front of him. Hands, lips and eyes always attached to you in one fashion or another, but it was the small sound in Jons main room which drew a smile from you both. It was someone else’s turn that time.

For such a small thing, it did strike you both as rather funny it still took four hands to bathe little Eddard. One of you would occupy his need to grab and play with one of you, while the other gently cleaned him. Water splashing at you more then once as the baby's small babble of a sound drew your eyes narrowed. Leaning down to him with a jesting lecture, “You won’t be so silly when this takes too long and the water is cold.” A small kiss to his forehead and he was much more at ease.

“They won’t fit him perfect, but it will do until we can get him things of his own.” Jon was right, the baby being born so early meant that normal sized clothes even for newborns were still too big, but at least he could be warm and comfortable better then he had been able to since he came into the world. It all felt so easy, so natural the way you and Jon worked together with him, but you had not much in the way of time to focus on it. Jon kissed the side of your head, muttering into your hair, “You look as tired as him. You need to rest.”

For once, you did not argue that at all. A fading mumble as he laid you under the furs properly, “Thank you.” A smile passing his lips asking for what, your brows furrowed as if he should already know. “For everything, for him, for getting us home, keeping us safe. All of it.” But your eyes begun to slip closed, and with a kiss to your lips, then forehead before all you recalled warm in Jons bed was his rasp in your ear to sleep and perhaps the fading off memory of telling you he loves you, but by the time you would have wished to respond, the softness and warmth around you finally overtook whatever remained in your head, and drifted away.

Jon could affirmatively say, he had only been expecting to take care of one child that night.

But much to his own instant amusement, did the feeling not long after he left you and the baby to sleep did his discussion with Wolkan get interrupted with something running into his leg with a rather young sound to follow. “Jon,”

Blonde hair and bright blue eyes, if those did not give it away, the giggle did. Looking down, did the laughing figure of a more grown Sam come into Jons view. Crouching down more to him, Jon smiled easily running a hand over the boys hair. “Look how much bigger you’ve gotten.” A quick glance saw he was alone, and a knowing look rose in his eyebrows to the boy. “Where’s your mother?”

Shaking his head in what Jon knew all too well was a mischievous look, he grinned. Continuing on, “Now I know you’re not supposed to be awake.” Glancing up to Wolkan who was equally as amused. “We’ll finish discussing this in the morning.” Picking the boy of three up whose arms raised eager to be picked up by him, Jon perched him in his arms to keep him at his own eye level. He hadn’t seen either of them yet, so Jon did not know where Gilly would be, but he had a feeling he knew Sam well enough to guess where he’d be at this time in the evening.

Voices a little frantic were heard behind the door as Jon approached, raising a brow to the toddler as if to point out what hes caused. From looks of worry to surprise to exasperation all within seconds did Gilly turn from where she and Sam had been much more worried and make her way with playfully narrowed eyes. “Samwell.”

Hiding instantly into Jon, he could only laugh as he approached her. His voice more gentle then before, “I think he heard I was back, and came looking for me.” Sighing deeply, Gilly tried to apologize before Jon dismissed the need for it. Putting him down, Gilly pointed to the other side of the room where no doubt his bed was in a side room.

All watching little Sam make his way before it seemed to dawn on both other parties exactly what was happening. Sam calling Jons name in a relief, and the closer Gilly just as matching in tone, “We didn’t know when you were coming back, I’m so glad you’re alright.” For someone who was as small as you were, it continued to always surprise Jon when Gilly’s hug could be as strong as it was. Jon only muttered he didn’t know either, she pulled back with a desperate wide eyed look saying your name. “Is she alright, is the baby-”

Holding her by her arms, Jon muttered that you were alright, both of you. Letting go, she glanced between he and Sam before giving both space she knew that they needed. If Gilly was happy to see Jon back and alive, Sam was even moreso. Neither hesitated in bringing the other in for a hug, no time the two of them spent apart ever had managed to separate that they were as close to brothers as they could possibly get without the same blood. And too many times had they seen the other off not knowing when or if they’d ever come back.

“What was it even like?”

Both arms perched on the table between them, Jon first only propped one up by his elbow as he let the bitter taste of the ale burn down his throat. Doing little to hide the wince as he let the mug hit down on the wooden surface a little harder then necessary. Rough and low his tone was, but in truth he couldn’t stand around listening to anyone congratulate him anymore. “What was it like? What do you want me to say, Sam?”

Already people were whispering about it in wonder, when it really did not feel good to look back on for either of you. Jaw clenched, Jon could nearly still hear it, the screams in his head. How in the cave they echoed around you both making that all either of you could hear. Sam had clearly not been expecting the sort of reaction Jon was giving him. “I only mean, you delivered the baby yourself. That must have been something.”

Dark eyes stared down at the wood as he failed to clear his throat before the tearing showed up in his voice, only a mutter but something heavy and in pain intertwined with it. “It was awful.” Meeting Sam’s taken aback gaze, Jon dropped his eyes once more as they grew brighter but with a shine none close to happy. “We were alone, and she only had me. I- I couldn’t even help her. Something was wrong and she was in so much pain but I couldn’t do anything but force her to handle it alone.”

Jon didn’t want to see the look in Sams eyes, he didn’t want to confront the gut wrenching feeling in his own heart. Luckily, his voice came down to his lack of loudness and was less sympathetic but more on the realistic side Jon tended to live at. “And Maester Wolkan said they are both fine. You did everything right, Jon-”

Cutting him off, he was far away. Not present as his hand gripped the mud tight to the point the strain was visible in his knuckles. “I thought I lost her.” The heartbreak in his eyes was something Sam almost couldn’t look at, but he held Jons gaze as much as he was willing to meet his. “When it was all over, for a moment she..there was a minute after when I didn’t even know if she was alive, and all the blood..”

Sam had tried a more reasonable way to divert that pain, “There’s always pain and blood in delivering a baby, it was-”

“My father had four children after me, Sam. It was never like that..she was in so much pain she could barley breath, she couldn’t even talk.” Jon bothered not to hide the water behind his eyes, but attempted to drown out that feeling in his veins as he downed far more of the bitter ale then he had the last time. “I didn’t comfort her once, forced her to endure it on her own because I had to focus on the baby.”

Sams voice was stern as he spoke up. “Jon.” Eyes flickering back over, Sams head tilted a bit as his voice followed with more emphasis. “She’s alive, the baby’s alive and you’re all home, together. Most men wouldn’t have even done as much as you did, most would’ve left her to birth a child all alone.”

He didn’t want the tears to fall, but even if they did, Jon knew Sam could see how much they were already building up as it was. “And after?” Words not spoken at first, and it only gave Jon the room to let that darkness brew further. “I was supposed to protect her, and I didn’t. Twice. I wasn’t the one who hurt her, but I didn’t keep her safe. I’m the reason she was out there in the first place. She shouldn’t be thanking me for keeping her safe when I didn’t.”

In a switching tactic, Sam changed the subject not too far to be jarring, but enough to hopefully swivel Jons self hatred from falling too deep into the depths. “So you named him after your father?”

In the minimal, it pulled a small grin from Jon. “From the minute he was born I knew I wanted to name him after my father.” Meant only as a joke, Sam had commented that at least his name would be easy to explain, being a family name already, but Jon hadn’t even thought much of how he said it nor to be patronizing. “Sams is easy too. You’re already his father where it matters.”

Not unlike the name of Eddard, Jon knew. Not much different at all. Two fathers by blood a son would loathe to learn of, and a father which birth or not was the only one which mattered.

“When are you going to reveal him?” Jons face jolted back twisting in a pure confusion for a moment as Sam laughed. “Really, sometimes I think you of all people forget the most that you’re a King.” His brows furrowed more and Jon was already aware for his sake, Sam was withholding a no doubt clever comment about his intelligence. “He’s not just your son, he’s the son of the King in the North. Aren’t the firstborn Princes of a King supposed to get revealed formally to the court?”

Jon hadn’t even considered that. Not truly. Thinking of himself in terms of being called a King was one thing, but now calling his son a Prince? That certainly would take a grand amount of getting used to he realized. Running a hand over his forehead Jon muttered your name, “When she’s better then maybe. There’s a lot more to do first then reveal a son everyone already knows I have by now.”

By the time Jon made to leave, Sam had one more question in mind as he turned from where he was by the door. “Jon, what did you learn out there? Something that could save us, or help?” When he hesitated, Sams tone lowered to more a concern again. “Was it anything good?”

It wasn’t any words Jon said, as he said nothing, but the morose look on his face that did not give much optimism by the time he muttered out, “Goodnight, Sam.” And closed the door behind him. Jon and you had learned too much out there, and part of him wishes he never did. It might have made some of this a bit easier, but there was no changing the past. He knew what he knew, and the only singular option was to move forward best he could.

As Jon grasped the handle to his chamber door, for a moment, Jon thought perhaps he spotted her again. If so, she had disappeared down the hall before he could call out to her. Sighing deeply, Jon closed his eyes to gather that tension and leave it here before walking into his chambers for the night. Tomorrow he had a busy day, make sure you always had someone with you to help and ensure you were actually resting as needed. Make sure by the end of the night he’d have most of what his son would need now that he was home.

But right now, the fact that Sansa was both watching and avoiding him couldn’t be on Jons list of things to deal with. He couldn’t force her to accept anything, and he was likely the last sibling she would take well to some of the more harsh truths about their new specific debacle. He never wanted it to be one against the other with any of his siblings, but Jon was aware enough that if there was one sibling who such a problem would turn unpleasant against, it was her.

For now, he had to be fine with the simple fact that she was home. There weren’t many of them left, their family, but what there was, was alive and it would have to do. Jon did know however, that tomorrow he and Arya needed to start handling the much more urgent problem, that came with Sansa returning home.

Jon though, was not quite sure he had the self restraint to not at some point, let his temper get the best of him in what would be his first meeting of Petyr Baelish. He never liked him from the stories you would tell him when you sat on the small council, and now that had grown into a hatred. But as he entered his chambers, he could only smile.

You and the baby clearly had been awake at some point. His small cradle moved from the table to the floor on Jons side of the bed as the fur there was rustled as if you had sat there for a while. Likely he presumed, he had woken up hungry and no doubt woken you up with him. Now uncovered by the furs, laid atop you, in fact you were on top of them further down the bed not even with a pillow. Your arm by the look of it seemed like you would be able to easily reach down to soothe him should he awake again and you wanted to be close if need be.

As quiet as could be did Jon pull most of his layers off, leaving just his breeches as he carefully climbed up on the bed beside you. Leaning over to press a kiss to your neck as he pulled your long hair out of his way, Jon didn’t move you. Just positioned himself behind you in the same manner close to the edge, only tugging your back a bit more comfortably into his chest. One hand running over your hip, Jon had to remind himself.

Maester Wolkan had said you’d need a while to heal entirely if you got enough rest. The bleeding had stopped but you’d still be in too much pain for anything like that. Your emotions had been all over the place, even if since getting to Castle Black they had been on the better side. Jon had to remember not to push you, or make you feel pressured just because of the darkness in his head. He could look at you now, and say without any fantasy that you were the mother of his child and even that thought alone he felt his cock stir.

He didn’t want you to feel like he would pressure you into anything, he wanted to wait as long as you needed. Jon closed his eyes, nuzzling into the back of your head and neck as the oils he used to wash your hair invaded his senses enough to relax him. His final thought as his mind begun to fade was to ease off of you for a while. Back up the amount he could be physical with you, no matter what the wolf in him growled in such a dark clawing instinct, sex with you wasn’t anywhere near the most important thing in his love for you.

If only the twisting fog in your own head had understood that when you would wake.