#every time i hear the alarm go off my brain doesnt go 'oh yes this is the alarm noise which means we have to get up'

[secretsniper3]

Part 2: Wet..

I wake, rolling over my alarm says 08:00, my day starts now. Blinking and drinking in my surroundings im surprised that im not bound anymore, Master probably released me from my situation before he too went to sleep, makes sense since I still have my morning routine to do. Spreading my thighs my hand creeps under the sheets and massages my clit, moisture instantly wetting my fingers as i rub up and down, fingers dancing expertly over my throbbing clit, being denied for so long my reaction is second nature now as my back arches up off my bed as my hand continues its assault on my senses. 1 edge moments later my mind abuzz with desire. Another edge, 3 to go and my morning can really begin. On and on my fingers go, dancing circles around my needy clit. Stopping just shy of another orgasm, 3 edges down. Pushing a finger and then another into my wet pussy I rub the walls and pull out seconds later. 4 edges down, returning my fingers to my box as my other hand clutches my breast, back still arched high, I slams down to the bed and thrusts my hands to my pillow. 5 edges done.

Climbing out of bed I go and brush my hair and then my teeth. A outfit is already laid out by my Master. A latex sleeveless shirt and matching pants, black high heels and a corset. My day will clearly be a tough one for me. Looking around I cannot find anything even resembling underwear. Knowing my punishment would be beyond measure if I were to dress my pussy myself I don my latex outfit for the day. Shirt, then the pants, sliding easily up my smooth legs as my juices made for handy lubricant. Pressing the latex on my pussy I pause. A simple deep breath removes my hand from what I know is forbidden to me now my morning edges are complete. Sitting on the bedside I clip my heels on so it doesnt fall off and put on my corset, only being able to loosly cinche it without help.

With great care, I walk out my bedroom door, slow paces in my high heels, my pussy rubbing against the latex with every step sending chills down my spine making my mind drift to my little buzzer throbbing away relentlessly. down the stairs, Master was waiting for me. Standing before him I assume my position on my knees, legs open palms up, head down.

“Good morning Master” I say keeping my head low.

“Morning my dear, sleep well i hope, i have a few fun things for you to enjoy today” my Master sounds eager.. its a little unsettling.

Standing up at his command I follow him to the dining room. Breakfast is already served. Im stunned, something is going on and Im concerned by what this means, my Master has almost never made breakfast for me. Heading to my seat I spot it. A large dildo, right where my pulsing pussy would lay, with my Masters guiding hand I ease down onto the large toy. The latex over my pussy parting at the intrusion! how could I not notice that gap when I put it on?? sliding down the thick cock my pussy serving to lubricate it all the way to the base. With a wet shlop Im completely full and I havnt even touched my bacon and eggs! perhaps a drink to calm my nerves, as I take a large gulp I feel warm.. a little too warm. Looking to my Master, he confirms my suspicions by raising his own glass. My pussy now spasming around the dildo as the aphrodisiac runs its course as I lean forward and stifle a moan.

My Master laughs at my situation. “Eat up my dear, your going to need your strength.” he says sending a flurry of chills down my spine leading right to my throbbing womanhood! gasping for air I raise a shaking hand to my fork and eat my food, likely spiked as well.. yes, its spiked. With each piece I swallow I feel the heat burn hotter, like a raging inferno my body craving the 1 thing my mind knows it must never have without consent! finishing my drugged meal my Master takes me by the hand and raises me up. Stopping several times to prevent a unauthorised orgasm. Leading me to the play room I see a device I have never seen before but it scares the hell out of me.

Standing, or lying in the middle of the room is a series of Stock restraints circling a large padded seat, leading me over to it, my Master lays me down flat. locking my wrists in their own personal Stock holders, followed by my ankles. Breathing faster at this development and my need constantly rising im hoisted in the air by the cushion im laying on, my restraints following suit. Standing beside me my Master reveals more holes in my latex, a hole per nipple with which he inserts a suction cup with a wire and covering it with the latex again, leaving just the wire exposed. moving down to my clit he reveals a suction cup, its thin and long and now, attached to my maddening, throbbing buzzer, he begins pumping. My eyes fly open in a combination of fear and arousal as my clit starts to get sucked into the tube, further and further its pulled from its hood till I feel it. Something hard is touching my clit, looking down Im greeted with a wire, pressing the tip of my isolated clit with the means to make me thrash around were I not restrained already. My drug ridden mind flooding with thoughts of my soon to be, hellish day that started too calmly as my Master slides a thick metal cock into my ass. I cant see it but I can bet theres a wire attached to it as well.

Moving to my head Master puts a dildo gag in my mouth and a latex hood over my head, my long red hair pulled through the back and the hood sealed tight. I cant see, I can barely hear and I can only weakly moan around this toy in my mouth, and as my thoughts go to the toy in my mouth, it expands, and again, and again! My mouth now completely full with cock my pleas and moans now a dull grunt, barely audible to those outside my hood. My pussy feels cold air, Master has moved the latex away from my drooling slit, heat radiating off my hungry hole, I breathe deep as Master presses his tongue against my slick folds. If I could scream, I would have. instead my legs tremble uncontrollably and my arms spasm, locked in my restraints thats all I really can do. Master licks again and again drawing more fluid from me. My breathing now very audible as air rushes in and out through my nose, Then I feel it. its coming, shit IM CUMMING! and then.. pure agony. My nipples cop it first, but only by microseconds, as they light up with electricity, followed by my ass and worst of all, my throbbing clit. My eyes shoot up into my skull as Im torn down from the plateau I was cresting mere moments ago! My pussy spasms in need as my Masters tongue only redoubles its assault knowing he has me, right where he wants me.

A full hour passes, and Masters Tongue leaves my pussy as another orgasm is slammed away by the electricity as this setup is designed to deny, not reward so I scream into my inflated cock gag. A few moments pass by idle as Im left to stew in my burning need, electricity occasionally zapping my nipples to make sure im denied release from my drug fuelled arousal. I hear Master say something outside my latex hood, I cant make out the words but he seems to know that I was only moments from cumming just now and thats led his to this pause to let me calm down, if that were possible with the drugs coursing through my veins and the intoxicating latex still coating my body and head Im swimming in a sea of arousal and Im not allowed to cum even a little even in my intense exhaustion im allowed only this peace of not being dragged kicking and screaming to more denial! A familiar sensation returns as Masters tongue reaffixes itself to my Labia and once again im lit of with electricity as another orgasm is beaten back, Round 2 begins.

2 Whole hours of torturous orgasm denial at Masters hands and tongue pass as im finally lowered to the ground, it only took a minute to unlock my limbs from the hellish devices that held me down, and another minute to free my ass, nipples and clit from their own hellish devices. A flick to the clit confirms Im still conscious. My Master picks me up and carries me to the nearby lounge, there he removes my hood and gag, and rests my head on his lap and runs his fingers through my sweat soaked hair. Stripping me of my latex suit, leaving only my heels on he continues my massage, as I regain my senses slowly.

“Master.. Thank you for training this slave to serve” I say weakly, as he cups my cheek with his tender hand, I roll over and fish out his throbbing cock and begin sucking, after all that pain and denial i need something I love, i need Masters cum in my mouth to savour the taste then swallow like the Good Slave I am. Eventually im rewarded with a mouthful as i drink every drop im given and swallow, it really is delicious to me now, I cant go back to a normal life, I belong to my Master.

Taking me to the loungeroom Master instructs me to edge for my lunch. A simple task but as he turns to leave he gives me the number. 30 edges.. My pussy pulses again and the flood gates reopen, I still havnt had that orgasm my body just remembered it was desperate for. oh god could I really do 30 in a row without stopping or spilling over? My Master seems to think so. Already days into my denial and with drugs wracking my brain I begin my edges. It only took a hour but I finally got them all. Another dose of drugged lunch and Im back to normal, if horny out of my mind is normal. The rest of my day is fairly standard compared to my morning training, part of me wants to do it again but not any time soon.

Pleasuring my Masters cock I polish his shoes after that in my favourite maid outfit, remembering to always bend at the waist, never the knees, my Master loves a good show. My daily chores complete Im taken to the shower and cleaned by my Master, taking great care not to rub over my pussy too hard. A lovely steak for dinner with some wine, I could hardly taste the drug in that wine, but my pussy sure felt it. My Master, eager to set me to bed attaches a chastity belt tightly to my pussy. I dont see the point as I would never touch without permission.. right?

[i-fucking-hate-ppl]

Headcanons for Alastor, who heard the singing of his crush, and this is a song about nonreciprocal love (and he doesn't understand that the song is about him) My apologies for my terrible English! Love you 💜

The song used in this one shot was the closest I could find to a unrequited love song, I hope you dont mind! Also this was soooo much longer than I intended, but the idea just kept flowing so I kept going with it. Anyway, enjoy!

Alastor could hear faint, gentle music playing from somewhere among the halls of the hotel.

Of course, his curiosity gripped him tight and he couldn't find it in him to let it go. So he followed the soft music that drifted in the dark, empty halls until he made it to your door.

He found it was cracked a few inches and peaked inside a little, just to see what you were up to.

He found you setting on your bed; wearing your favorite red shorts and a black shirt that had "fuck off" written in red along the top along with fuzzy red socks on your little feet (well little to him).

You were brushing/combing out your hair (or wig if you're bald for whatever reason).

He was going to continue on with his day like nothing happened, until you began to hum, he could tell you were about to sing.

He couldn't move away from your door, you'ee voice was so... beautiful and he hadn't even heard you sing yet! Although he could hear the sad undertone to the hum.

He felt his heart clench. What could make you so sad? Was it the song? Was it something someone had said? If so he would have a busy afternoon...

He decided to listen to what you were about to sing, hoping it'd give him some kind of clue.

(In case you want to listen to it, it's called Shiver by Coldplay, I love Coldplay)

"So I look in your direction, but you pay me no attention... do you?

I know you don't listen to me, 'cause you say you see straight through me... don't you?~"

He watched you with intent eyes as you got up to set your brush/comb on your vanity. He frowned as he watched you sit in the chair and give your self a sad look.

"And on and on from the moment I wake to the moment I sleep, I'll be there by your side. Just you try and stop me. I'll be waiting in line, just to see if you care.~"

Alastor felt like he was going to be sick. Not only were you sad, but it was because someone had broken your heart.

You fell in love with someone, and they didn't reciprocate your feelings, they possible didn't even notice you.

But how could they not? You were a so beautiful/handsome. You were practically a god/goddess.

Although the worst part, was probably the fact that you didn't love him.

"Ooooh.... Did you want me to change? Well I changed for good. And I want you to know, that you'll always get your way.~"

"I wanted to say... Don't you shiver~"

"Shiver... shiver~"

"I'll always be waiting for you.~"

You leaned back in the chair, look up at the ceiling with glossy eyes.

"So you know how much I need ya. But you never even see me... do you? ...And is this my final chance of getting you?~"

You rest your forearm across your eyes to hide your tears eventhough you thought no one was there. But Alastor was, and he already saw them.

He looked down, feeling bad he couldn't really do anything to help you. Although he was determined to speak with you after you were done singing, in hopes to comfort you.

"And on and on from the moment I wake, to the moment I sleep, I'll be there by your side. Just you try and stop me. I'll be waiting in line, just to see if you care... if you care. Oooh~"

"Did you want me to change? Well I changed for good. And I want you to know, that you'll always get your way.~"

"And I wanted to say... Don't you shiver.~"

"Don't you shiver.~"

"Shiver~"

"I'll always be waiting for you...~"

"Yeah I willalways be waiting for you. Yeah I will always be waiting for you. Yeah I will always be waiting for you. For you I will always be waiting.~"

"And its you I see, but you never see me! And it's you I hear, so loud and clear! I sing it loud and clear! And I'll always be waiting for you.~"

"So I look in your direction, but you pay me no attention. And you know how much I need ya, but you never even see me...~"

Alastor waited a few seconds and plastered on a smile before gently rapping his knuckles against your door.

You sat up quickly, wiping the tears quickly before walking over towards your door.

You opened it a bit more and peaked out to see Alastor. You gave him a nervous smile before opening the door all the way.

"Hey Alastor, what's up?" You smiled at him.

He could tell that your smile was forced. It didn't quite reach your eyes; sadness and heartbreak still swam in your eyes as clear as day.

"Well my Dear, I should be asking you that question."

You laugh nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. "What do you mean?"

Alastor let out an exasperated sigh, doing his best to keep the smile on his face. "Not that I meant to be an eavesdropper, but I heard the song you sang. You sounded quite beautiful, but on the contrary upset. So I felt the need to ask if you were alright."

You frown quickly and dart your eyes away from Alastor. "Yeah, I'm... I'm fine. It's just the basic girl/guy loves a guy who doesnt really notice her/him, y'know?"

Alastor feels the need to frown, but he knew he'd alarm you so he made his smile grow.

"Yes well, you know what they say, unrequited love makes the world go round."

You look at him in disbelief, before cracking a smile, and soon a small, breathless laugh.

"Who says that?"

"Well I just did."

You let out a giggle as you shake your head. "So no one."

"Well I didn't really think of myself as no one, since I am someone. Everyone is someone really, although that's not quite the point we're discussing."

"We're not discussing any point really." You copy his really with a smile.

"Oh? I thought we were discussing of blockheaded, dimwit who couldn't notice a diamond in the ruff such as your self."

A blush flourished across your face like a field of flowers spreading in the spring time. Slow at first, as if you were regeristing what he said and then it spread quickly, leaving no bit of flesh untouched with a tinge of pink.

You gave him a gently shove that made his heart accelerate from your touch. He normal didn't like people touching him in anyway, but he couldn't make himself dislike your innocent touches. It made his heart flutter in a way he both hated and loved.

"Oh stop it, I'll be okay."

He nodded. "Yes, well I thought perhaps you'd like to talk about it."

You paused, thinking it over he assumed. "Well there's not much to talk about. He's just... out of my league. It's no wonder he doesn't really notice me, I don't necessarily stand out. Which is okay, it's always been like that for me."

Alastor tried to process what you said. What do you mean, "you don't necessarily stand out"? You were the absolute first thing he saw among everyone in the hotel.

You stood out like white against black, but not in a bad way. You are definitely something special, something extraordinary. You made Alastor fall in love with you, and that's not an easy task.

The more he gets to know you from others, the conversations he happens to over hear, and by observing you, the more fond he grows of you.

He may not have sexual desires towards you, but he never has had any type of sexual desire. That will never change, but he can still understand how beautiful you are.

He just couldn't understand why others never chose you, how couldn't they? You were perfect. Was this why you seemed so insecure about this guy? Because no one ever chose you?

Alastor felt a great need to change that. He felt like he had to tell you his feelings. You won't like him back because you're hung up on that other guy, but maybe he could boost your confidence enough so you gain the courage to tell him. To know someone had chosen you.

He may not enjoy the though of you with someone else, but for the first time in a long time, it wasn't about him. And he couldn't let himself make it about him.

"Well darling, I have something to tell you."

You looked at him in the eye; a curious glint shining in your eyes. Seeing your curiosity only made him fall deeper in love with you.

"What is it Alastor?"

He found it hard to find words for the first time in his entire life. His life both on Earth and in Hell. What were you doing to him?

"You see, ever since you came here, I've been fixated on you. You're like no one I have ever met in either of my lives; I hypothesize that's what drew me to you. The more I had gathered on you from everything I saw and heard, the more I had grown to adore everything you were and are. Even though I am asexual, and I will never have any sexual desire for you, I do have the desire for you to love me as much as I love you. Although, from the song you had sang, I know now that you never will. I will never hold that against you. I'm telling this to you in hopes you gain some confidence in telling that guy, whoever he may be, that you love him. If he has any kind of brain function, he'll reciprocate your feelings."

You stares at Alastor in confusion. Neither of you said anything for a while, so Alastor took it has his cue to leave.

"Well, have a good night (Y/n). I hope everything works out for you."

He turned to leave and you panicked. You reach out and snag his coat, tugging on his.

"Wait! Stop!"

He turns to you, "Yes? Did you need something else?"

"Wh-What do you mean?! You can't just walk away after confessing! You didn't even hear my response."

"I already know the answer though, I was simply giving you confidence."

"... Did you mean what you said though? Or is it just a confidence boost..."

Alastor couldn't help the frown that tugged at his lips from the sight of your disbelieving and hurt look as you trained your eyes on the floor.

"Every word. I swear, and I'll have you know I am a man of my word."

You looked up into his eyes, tears brimming the edge of your eyes before plummeting down your face.

Alastor was quick to move, wiping the tears from your face. "I didn't mean to make you cry Darling. You dont have to like me back. I'm not pressuring you-"

Alastor was cut off as you jumped forward into his chest, knocking the air out of his lungs as you tightened your grip around him.

"Its not that! I... I just... no one has ever truly liked me back before... I just really happy."

Alastor paused for a second before grinning. He hugged you back.

"I've never had anyone like me back either, but I guess you have to like them to begin with. Your special (Y/n), if not to no one else, then to me. You'll always stand out to me."

[wolfqueen-is-here]

Kisses Remembered, Kisses Forgotten (Jonsa Secret Santa 2018)

Dearest @moonchildslife, I am so sorry for my delay, Christmas was crazier than I expected, and I didn’t finish my gift on time. But it is here now, and I hope you don’t find it too terrible ;). I wish you a wonderful year with Jonsa becoming canon in April and our fandom wishes coming true. Be happy, be healthy, be yourself! <3

Many thanks to @jonsasecretsanta2018 who made all of this happen, you truly are amazing!

  A/N Don’t be alarmed by a brief mention of the Hound. I promise you, it has nothing to do with SanSan in any way except mentioning The Un-Kiss. Book!canon, but mostly show!canon, can be interpreted both as a filler and an AU. 2300 words

  Kisses Remembered, Kisses Forgotten

Every now and then Sansa remembers, even though she has tried so hard to leave the past behind. The Hound was rough and scary, but the kiss that he took left a lingering taste on her lips—it was as soft as snow, almost familiar, she’s caught herself missing the shy affection that came with the kiss, a wary touch so vulnerable it felt almost childish. She remembers the kiss that he took. The only thing she doesn’t remember is him taking it.

Every night feels longer and darker than the former ones. It isn’t until she jumps from Winterfell walls that she remembers how to feel warm again, but the road north is as cold as ice and covered in snow. “His lips felt warm”, she thinks as she runs towards her freedom. “The kiss that he took, it felt warm.”

There are times when she is almost certain that she gave it willingly.

 —

“You look cold,” Jon says after staring at her in silence for a good half an hour. It would annoy her beyond reason, were it anyone else, anyone less trustworthy, anyone less… Jon, but coming from him it’s almost flattering. No one has ever cared for her so since she’d lost Father. Not once until this very moment has she felt safe since then.

“I’m okay,” she smiles. His unblinking eyes refuse to leave hers even for a second as if she’d vanish otherwise. Sansa leans towards him and strokes the inside of his palm with her thumb. It’s the most innocent of caresses, but it makes Jon stiffen and finally lower his head. She misses the stare instantly. “I’m okay, Jon.”

She tastes his name on her tongue. It feels rough—when was the last time she used it? —but sweeter than all the cake she’s ever had. She wants to swallow it, possess it, make it hers. “Jon,” she muses. “Jon. My Jon.”

If it’s something more primal than sisterly affection, she doesn’t recognise it in time. It may occur to her later, but it will be too late.

 —

The first night that she spends at Castle Black is a sleepless one. The shadows are long when she paces aimlessly around the room, too exhausted to fall asleep, too cold to lie still. Knocking at the door alerts her at first—she’s not used to feeling safe yet—she whispers: “Who’s there?” so quietly as if she were hoping nobody would answer.

“It’s me,” Jon says.

She lets him in.

“Do you have everything that you need?” he asks, looking at her with a strange longing.

Had it been more fitting, she’d say: “I have you,” but in their current situation she’d stumble over the words for certain. Instead, she just invites him to stay—just sit next to her and not talk until the sun rises and the shadows go back under her bed. They repeat it every night after that, it seems to comfort both of them.

 —

Jon’s eyes follow Sansa as he tries to find something—anything—that would remind him of a little girl she used to be. Her skirts dance when she rocks her hips, walking around Castle Black like she’d lived here all her life. He wants to avert his gaze but finds it impossible. She’s grown so tall, so slender—so beautiful.

“She’s your sister,” he thinks angrily, hiding his face in his hands. “You are not allowed to look at her like that.”

There were times, many lives ago, when they were only children. Sansa’s hair was more orange than auburn, Jon’s face—smooth, not a trace of beard or scars on it. They both called lord Eddard Stark their father. They both walked around holding Robb’s hand. They both watched Bran fall asleep while they were singing lullabies. Both, yes, but not—together.

When he tries to think about their lives before everything happened, before he went north and she went south, he keeps coming back to that one particular memory. And he’s not allowed to remember it. Not ever.

“She’s your sister,” he thinks, but as her lips move while she’s telling him another story, he watches. The redness of them almost provocative, they look like she’s been biting them for the past few hours. It’s a mesmerising set of colours: her lips with a raspberry tint, screaming to be tasted, licked, devoured; her eyes, deep blue almost exactly like the ones that used to follow him with disdain when he was nothing more than a bastard boy, but there’s no disdain in Sansa’s eyes, only hope. Her fair complexion contrasts with the dark streaks of her auburn hair, almost brown in the dimly lit room. Jon quashes the need to cup Sansa’s cheek and stroke it with his fingers, to check if her soft, unwavering beauty isn’t only a product of his hallucinations. He wouldn’t dare.

 —

Sansa enters the dining room when there’s barely anyone left. A few wildlings share a horn of ale, laughing. There’s also Edd sitting in the furthest, darkest corner, and he looks really down—Edd always looks down, that’s an inherent part of his personality, “The defining part”, Tormund insists, but Sansa doesn’t care, because Edd, albeit rather shy, is kind and caring, and that’s more than she could expect from a stranger. The wildlings terrify her still, she doesn’t know their customs, they’re far too loud and bold for her taste, so she chooses to cross the room and take a sit in front of Edd.

They don’t talk, there’s no need for it. Sansa eats her soup, wondering whether Jon has already eaten, and Edd just keeps staring at the ceiling. Weirdly, his silent presence comforts Sansa more than any words could.

When everybody leaves, Sansa reaches for Edd’s half-empty horn and moves her hand up and down its uneven surface. It’s become apparent these past few days that sleep refuses to come easily for her at Castle Black, and when she finally drifts off after hours of rolling over from side to side, her dreams are filled with memories—but are they real? Are they hers?

She doesn’t think about the Hound that often. He’s been a big part of her life when she was a prisoner in King’s Landing, but her fascination with his tragic story faded and went by long ago. She cannot remember his face anymore, only the scars, she doesn’t even know if she’d be glad to see him again. The memories of him and the torments from the Lannisters became too inseparable in her mind, and that’s why she doesn’t want to think of him or imagine their meeting.

Not now. Not ever.

Then why is her brain so set on bringing back the memory of the kiss? She can feel a sweet breath on her chin every morning when she wakes up from her blurry dreams—why is it sweet? Wasn’t the Hound monumentally drunk that night?—she can taste it, again and again. Her first kiss, that one thing she knows for sure. She’d gotten a few pecks from Joffrey, yes, they should probably count as first, but somehow it doesn’t feel right.

She closes her eyes and clasps her hands around the horn.

“I thought you weren’t fond of our ale,” Jon says, suddenly very close—how did he get so close without Sansa hearing his steps? Did she black out again?

“I heard it helps to forget.”

“It does,” his voice sounds worried, “for a while. It doesn’t make your past go away.”

Sansa raises her head and their eyes lock immediately as if they’re a couple of lovers always on a mission to find each other.

“For a while,” she repeats. “Sounds better than never.”

The ale tastes much worse than she remembered it—it’s bitter and stale, and reeks of old, damp barrels—but her lips don’t leave the edge of the horn until it’s empty. Jon’s eyes move to her throat as she swallows and stay there even after she’s finished.

At first, she doesn’t think anything’s changed—the same emptiness fills her, the same desperation—but minutes pass as they sit opposite one another in silence, and her head finally starts to feel both lighter and heavier, her thoughts stir inside her brain, but never fully form. It’s a bliss. It’s a curse.

She sits in the middle of a meadow, it’s late summer. The winds got chilly but she’s got a blanket around her arms. She’s knitted it herself. She’s content. She’s happy. She’s Queen Naerys Targaryen.

“Are you alright? That’s quite a lot of ale you just inhaled,” Jon murmurs, gently touching her arm. Sansa looks up and smiles at him.

“I’ll be fine,” she answers. “I’ll be fine, Jon. You can go to sleep, you look tired.”

He laughs hoarsely and it makes Sansa’s belly tighten.

“Not until I see you safely tucked under your furs.”

He approaches her with his back straight and a sword at his side. Where did he get that sword, she thinks briefly but continues to look at his beaming face.

“I’ve come to rescue you, my Queen.”

“You can’t, my love,” she says, remembering to dress her face in the deepest, most regal shade of sadness. “We’re bound to our fate forever. You’ve made your vows, as I have made mine.”

He kneels before her. He’s brave, he’s gentle, he’s strong. He’s Prince Aemon the Dragonknight.

Sansa tries to stand up all too quickly, her head spins violently and she has to hold on to the table to avoid falling. She can barely feel her legs and her arms—how strong was that ale?—but the burning hotness of Jon’s hand on her lower back, oh, that she feels.

“Careful,” he says, pulling her closer and throwing her arm around his neck. “You’re still much too weak to start drinking so heavily. Don’t let go, alright? I’m going to walk you to your chambers now.”

And he proceeds to do just that.

When Sansa lies in bed feeling truly sleepy for the first time since she’s reached Castle Black on her dying horse, she suddenly remembers everything.

His face is just inches away. He’s wearing his hair pulled tightly in the back like a true adult, but he’s been playing with swords all day and a few strands have escaped the knot, hanging loosely around his face. She feels the urge to curl one of them around her finger but before she decides to make a move, he leans in and kisses her on the lips.

It surprises her—the lightness of it as much as the act itself. “It’s not wrong as long as I’m Queen Naerys and he’s Prince Aemon,” she tells herself as she involuntarily moves closer and exhales into his warm mouth. His fingers wander up and down her sleeve, curious but never inappropriate. The kiss doesn’t last long, a few heartbeats maybe, but before it’s finished, she can hear him whisper: “Sansa.”

And instantly he’s Jon again, and she’s Sansa. And they’ve done something unforgivable.

 —

Jon’s almost asleep when he hears banging at his door. He jumps out of bed and rushes to open it only to find a breathless Sansa on the other side. Her eyes are wide, and she looks absolutely terrified. If she’s still a bit in her cups, it doesn’t show.

“What happened?” he asks.

She’s shivering. He wants to put his hand on her arm but she jumps away.

“You kissed me,” she hisses, her tone accusatory.

Jon blinks. Not that he hasn’t thought of it, because of course he has. He won’t admit it to anyone but though he tried extremely hard to see his long-lost sister in the beauty that has brought him back to life, he failed miserably. The truth is—she was never a sister to him, not even before they parted ways.

“I assure you,” he answers quietly, “I did not. I didn’t even enter your chambers, I asked lady Brienne to help.”

“Not tonight,” Sansa sighs and Jon realises she’s standing before him barefoot, dressed only in some old sleeping gown, but somehow she’s never looked more queenly with her demanding expression and fiery glare. “When we were children. A few months before we left Winterfell. We played… we played, and you…”

And he kissed her.

He kissed her and he never regretted it once until she came to him, crying, and ordered him to forget it ever happened. He didn’t want to, it was too precious a memory, but he obliged. For Sansa.

“I thought we weren’t speaking of it,” he whispers carefully.

She was really shook when she came to him that day, he never wanted to see Sansa cry, and to be the reason for her despair—it was too much for him to bear.

“We aren’t. I just… I forgot.”

“You forgot?” he asks, feeling hurt. It was his only kiss before Ygritte and he wasn’t even allowed to savour that memory. How could she have forgotten?

“I’m sorry,” she says. “What we did… it was wrong. I didn’t… I couldn’t… I think I repressed it. I made myself believe it happened with someone else.” She lowers her head and he’s afraid to spook her by asking who that person was, but he’s certain it will haunt him forever. Was it Joffrey? Gods, he hopes it wasn’t him. Jon couldn’t bear it. Sansa makes a strangled noise at the back of her throat. “But I remember now.”

He doesn’t know what more to say, but Sansa doesn’t seem to expect any kind of explanation. It happened. It shouldn’t have, but it did. And it changed things between them.

Sansa finally dares to look at him. Her lips are parted, ready as they were in that meadow years ago. He doesn’t take advantage of her vulnerability. When they win back Winterfell, when the war is over—she will come to him of her own volition.

And he will have that second kiss, gods be damned.

[confusedunit]

The Other Side Looks The Goddamn Same - Chapter Thirteen

“...So...” Gerard shifts slightly on the sofa. “...How’ve you been?”

Gabriel doesn’t even look up at him from his spot on the floor, arms wrapped around his knees. “...Two of my closest friends have come back from the dead, and I’m still trying to put together pieces of my past that are missing. How do you think I’m doing?”

“Right. I...should have guessed.” He tugs at the edge of his scarf, before he sighs. “...Reyes.”

He looks up.

“...You wanted to know what happened, yes?”

“Yeah.” He uncurls slightly.

“When...” He runs a hand through his hair. “When she attacked me, we were in our room. I had been sleeping, but woke when she got up. I...suppose the original plan was to kill me in my sleep.” He closes his eyes. “We...fought. I did what I could, but it’s...hard to win a fight against someone you’re unwilling to kill, when they’re willing to kill you. She stabbed me, poisoned me, then shot me in the back and left me for dead.”

“Gerard...”

“I was too far from base, so I had to rush over to a nearby hospital. Small place...Don’t remember its name.”

Gabriel leans forward. “...They helped you?”

“As much as they could.” He looks down at his hands. “By the time I got there I moved, and...suddenly I just...couldn’t. They told me that the bullet had finally worked its way through my spine.”

“But you can move now. Did they-”

“They didn’t have what Angela has.” He slowly pulls up his sleeves. “So...they did what they could.”

His eyes widen in shock. “Gerard. I...”

Several wires make their way down Gerard’s arms, connecting into a metal cuff at his wrist. A small flat segment rests at the front of his wrist, sunken into the flesh. A longer one does the same on the back of his wrist. His hand twitches and shakes as he tries to hold it steady. “Both arms, and my legs. It...was what they could think of to do.” He takes a few airy breaths. “Bypass the problem once I healed up. Spine recovered. The nerves didn’t.”

“Dios Mio...”

“The poison didn’t help matters. It was a newer version of Talon’s current airborne neurotoxin, a deadly soup of nerve agent, tranquilizers, and good old fashioned poison. I had to breathe on a machine for months. ...Still do, technically.”

“What are you talking about?” Gabriel’s not sure when he started shaking.

“Like I said before...” Gerard pulls off his scarf, dropping it to the floor before slipping off his coat. A metal tube wraps around behind his neck, moving down and connecting to two plates in his chest. On the back of the tube, under Gerard’s hair, there’s a small connection that leads down to a metal machine on his back. At the front of his throat there’s another metal plate, this one more oval, and ridged. The wires from his arms make their way up to connect into it. An identical plate on the back of his throat connects to the wires from his legs. “...They did what they could.”

“Is that...”

“A breathing machine, yes. My lungs were worn too thin in places, for me to be able to breathe too much on my own. They were worried that too sharp of a breath would just rip the muscle in two.” He slowly looks over at Gabriel. “...I...can swap it out for an air tank, when I need to, but I prefer to run with this. I’m supposed to use a mask as well, instead of just pumping it directly into my lungs, but when I’m not on the run I can manage this.” He has to take a shallow breath. “I can’t talk with the mask on.”

He slowly reaches out a hand. “...You need to speak to Angela.”

“And what can she do? My nerves are broken, and my lungs are thin. What can she do this late?”

“Muscle regeneration and regrowth are her specialty. You don’t have to, but...please consider it.”

He sighs, before he takes his hand and nods. “...Alright.” He’s quiet for a few moments.”...I was still stuck in bed when I heard the news. I saw the collapse on TV. Hearing about you...”

“Death due to injuries and smoke inhalation.”

“...And Jack.”

“...Death due to traumatic burns and a multistory fall.”

“I didn’t know what to do. I dug up more information on Talon. Snuck around wherever I went. Ran into your son, eventually, though he didn’t realize it at first. I eventually made contact with him, and we worked together for a bit. He went to the Recall soon after, and...” He sighs again. “...And that’s all I’ve got, Gabriel.”

“...Thank you, Gerard. For telling me, and...for getting me out of there.”

“No worries. You know I don’t like to leave debts hanging.” He smiles faintly, before it falls. “...You’re welcome, Reyes.”

-

Jack doesnt know what he expected to see when he walked outside, but a Bastion unit sitting in the middle of the garden, holding a potted tree, with a bird on its head, isn’t anywhere on even the strangest list he can think of.

He’s alarmed at first, of course. He remembers the Crisis vividly, after all. He’d been sure that all the units had been shut down, how had this one slipped through the cracks? Why is it here? Why doesn’t he have his gun? He can’t take on a Bastion unit with his bare hands, it’ll shred him apart before he even gets a chance to get near it, there’s no cover to try to deal with it from range-

He stumbles and falls back, scrambling backwards, but he freezes when the unit turns and ‘looks’ at him. He’s going to die. All this time, all this fighting, everything he’s done was for nothing. His fate’s catching up with him. Why did he think this wouldn’t happen, of course the universe would do this to him. Or is this all just his imagination?

He can’t see. He can’t see- he smells smoke, blood, charred wounds of the fallen- he hears shouting but it’s distant, muffled, indistinct. A sniper rifle, shotguns? A building’s falling, or- it already fell, it must have- there’s blood dripping down his face from a head wound, and he can’t move- did it catch him in the legs or the torso? He can’t remember, why can’t he remember-

It must be his imagination, the thought that he’d actually live through this. You can’t defeat that which doesn’t sleep, doesn’t rest, doesn’t need to do anything to survive. They make more faster than humans can get new soldiers, they fight harder than even the SEP could have hoped for.

He must be dying.

“Bastion!”

He knows, he knows- he can’t move. They must have had to leave him behind, he doesn’t hear her rifle. The shotguns are gone. Why can’t he hear them?

“Bastion, wait!”

Oh God, it’s going to shred his torso. He’s seen it happen, the images are burned into his eyes. There’ll be nothing of him left. Hysterical laughter falls from his lips. It’s not like there’s anyone left for them to ship him back to.

“Dammit- Commander! Can you hear me?”

Someone’s shaking him- why can’t he see? He’s gasping, why can’t he breathe?”

“Morrison!”

He recoils, as everything abruptly comes into focus. He’s shaking. Why can’t he stop shaking?

Genji’s crouched in front of him, faceplate removed. One hand rests on Jack’s shoulder, the other on Jack’s chest. “Breathe, Morrison.”

“The Bastion-” Jack wheezes, brain foggy.

“I know. They are nearby.”

“Genji-”

“They are not aggressive. They do not wish to harm.”

That’s it. Genji must have finally snapped. There’s no way that he could be saying such impossible things.

A set of beeps and chirps sound behind him.

“Bastion! Stay sitting down, please!” He looks back at the omnic. “He has had something similar to what Ganymede helps you with.”

Another set of beeps comes from the unit.

Genji turns back around. “They will not hurt you. They just like plants. Torbjorn brought them here to keep them safe.”

“...Torb? He...” His head hurts. Why does he feel so sick?

“Yes. Here, Commander, may I pick you up? You need to recover from your attack.”

“I...Sure.” He winces as he’s picked up, zoning out as they move. He closes his eyes.

He’d thought of Reyes. He thought he was dying, and his first thought was of Reyes. Of course. God, he needs to let go, for his own sanity. He can’t, and he knows he can’t, but he knows he should.

He finally zones back in when he realizes he’s hearing a conversation.

“...And how long ago did this happen?”

“About forty five minutes. It took me almost thirty to get him to respond to me.”

He’s on a bed, he realizes. His visor is off, but his mask is on. His jacket has been removed, and a blue coat has been draped over him like a blanket.

“I understand. Thank you for bringing him here, Genji.”

His brain finally catches up. “...Ana.”

“Jack.”

He grunts. God, his head hurts. He feels sick. He’s so tired.

“Heard you had some trouble, today.”

“Fuck off, Amari.” He doesn’t even have the energy to hide the emotion in his voice. “You know what it was like.”

“I stayed much further away, on average, than you did. But...yes. I know.”

“You’re a fucking sniper. Of course you were farther away.” He shivers, curling slightly on his side. “...Fuck.”

“...Genji,” Ana speaks again. “Thank you again for bringing him to me. I think he will need some time to recover. I’ll take it from here.”

“Of course. Let me know how he is doing later?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.” Genji stands. “Rest well, Morrison.”

Jack’s quiet until he hears the door close. “...Great. Fun.”

“Don’t. Jack, do not feel embarrassed or guilty.”

“Fucking stupid-”

“Jack.” Ana rests a hand on his shoulder.

“...I thought about him, Ana.” He slowly opens his eyes, wincing. “...Thought I was gonna die, and...”

“...Which time?”

“The time in Germany. When the entrance caved in, and I was bleeding out alone in a storeroom.”

“...I’m sorry, Jack.”

He grunts gain. “...I don’t want to think about this, anymore.”

-

“Will you two just tell me what the fuck is going on?” Sombra huffs, pulling at her hair.

“You seriously don’t know?” Lena blinks, watching her. “But it’s so obvious!”

“To us, Lena. But we worked with him, remember?” Jesse adjusts his hat.

“I’m about to beat you over the head if you don’t fucking answer me!”

“It’s about Soldier 76.” He rests a hand on her shoulder. “We know who he is. We thought you did too.”

“No, I looked everywhere, though every archive I could find.”

“Som. Come on. You work with Gabe, for Christ’s sake. You find Ana alongside some random military guy, and you don’t put the pieces together?”

She stares at him, before her eyes widen and glow a deeper purple. “You can’t be serious. There’s no way!”

“It’s true.” Lena nods.

“How?? No one could survive the kinds of things that were reported!”

“He didn’t fall, for starters. Got out of there and took off, I assume.” She shrugs. “The details don’t really matter.”

“But this is big! If Gabe’s here, and Jack’s alive, we can reunite them! They’ve been in pain for years, they need this!”

“That’s the hard part.” Jesse starts to pace, but he stills when the door opens.

“Sorry I am late.” Genji enters quickly, closing the door behind him. “Morrison met Bastion.”

“Oh shit.”

“Are they both okay?”

“They are both fine. ...Ish. Morrison is recovering with Ana.” He stretches his arms. “What are we talking about?””

“How to tell the two of them that they’re alive.” Sombra crosses her arms.

“They told you while I was gone? Now I’m disappointed.”

“Shut up. Do you have an idea, or not?”

“I think I do.”

-

“How are you feeling, Doctor?” Her assistant speaks quietly, as she enters the room.

“I am ten minutes of shouting away from killing Akande and everyone else in this building.” Moira grumbles, rubbing at her temples.

“Migrains again?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to-”

“No. Thank you, but no. They’re refusing to take me seriously.” She sighs. “‘You can’t even control those in your grasp’, as if that means I don’t deserve respect or basic human decency.”

“So he continues to be unreasonable.”

“Yes.” She turns, looking up at her. “Have you had any luck with the samples?”

“Sample 93W caused it to react as if it was being scalded or burned. Sample 27A refused to mix. Sample 15C caused a minor reaction, but not enough to be interesting.”

“Unfortunate. Do you think I could get away with killing Akande?”

“No. What tests should we run next?”

“Mix half of what remains with Sample 7R, the other half with Sample 132DM.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. What if I kill all his associates?”

“I’m one of those associates. No.”

“I obviously didn’t mean you-”

“No.”

“Hmmph. Fine. Get back to work.”

-

Angela’s anxious.

She can’t really help it, she’s pretty sure she’s been anxious for the past fifteen years. She’s constantly working, avoiding sleep for as long as she can manage. She’s sure that if it were medically possible to replace blood with coffee, she would have done so years ago.

It’s worse now. There’s no missions going on, no one is hurt. The lack of injuries is a good thing. The lack of work to do is not.

She sighs softly, rubbing at her eyes as she hears the door open. “Come in.”

“Doctor Ziegler.” Zenyatta’s voice is calm, as he floats into the room with a tray of breakfast food.

“...Is it time to eat already?” She looks away. “...I didn’t notice.”

“I know. That is why I’ve taken to making sure that you do, after all.” He sets the tray on her desk, tilting his head slightly. “Are you alright?”

“...No.” She rubs at her face again. “...I don’t know if I ever will be again.”

“What’s wrong?” He floats nearby, resting a hand on her shoulder. “...Is it Moira?”

“This is all my fault!” She takes a breath to hold back tears. It’s been over seventy two hours since she last slept, and her walls are crumbling. “Everything that’s happened, it’s all my fault...”

“That’s not true. Do not take blame for someone else’s actions. You did not control her, even when you two worked together.”

“Gabriel is my fault!”

“No. You gave him another chance, but what he became was never because of you.”

“It was! Everything that Moira’s done, all the people she’s hurt, everyone she’s killed, it’s all my fault!” She slams her fists onto her desk, almost spilling her coffee.

Zenyatta rests both hands on her shoulders. “Angela.” His tone is quiet. “Why do you feel this way? Surely you know that the only actions you are responsible for are your own.”

“Because Gabriel Reyes wasn’t the first person I ever brought back to life.” Tears are falling down her face, as she looks at Zenyatta. “He was the second.”

“...Oh.” He’s quiet for a bit. “...Angela, I’m so sorry...”

She finally bursts into tears, hugging him tightly as she sobs.

[princess-of-embarrassment]

Some 3 am realizations about life, relationships and maybe more?? idk whatever have fun.

Ok before i start on this shit I am going to say it is 3 am and i am just dumping some thoughts like i usually do. Sorry for the shit grammar, disorganized thoughts and all that jazz... In a sense i feel like this is a letter to myself and what i have been trying so damn hard to understand so yeah i am talking to myself and to this website. I think. Idk. i will probably delete this in the morning when i am back on bad bitch mode and go back to posting memes pero por ahora vamos a ver como nos va. Mayb ei will leave it up bc i forget or because i dont care who sees it. sorry for the shitshow of a post you are about to read but you probably already kinda know me so yay! I debated posting this shit because the internet is a wildin place but oh well!!1!!11

ok tumblr it is 3 in the morning and i have 100% regressed into being a 15 years old on this damn website shitposting and reblogging some corny ass posts but it feels right, so here i am attempting to process it through the only form i know how to actually know how to cope with things. I mean memes are cool and all but lets be real, they don’t address the problems. this is the one place i can brain dump all of my thoughts and not really care about where they go because they will eventually disappear in the tumblr algorithm.

My old blog was often the only separation I had between my reality and the life i really wished i had, but now I have that life that I always wanted so why the hell am i back at square one? To be fair, the life that i have right now may not be envied by many but its a pretty darn good life to me. Im safe 99.9% of the time. The other .1% is a story for another day. I have been trying to figure out for months as to why i’m back to being so active on here and now that it’s 3:00am I realize it’s because of self isolation (thanks corona!). 

Let me start off by saying this; my reality is not something I am going to be able to escape. Ever. It has brought me to where i am today, allowed me to meet some really incredible people and i am so so grateful. I have learned so much in the past few years. i am grateful what happened happened. Wild, i know. I escaped it physically but i cannot escape it mentally, at least for now. School, work, writing, dealing with my freshmen’s problems was what kept my brain occupied and away from having to face the part of my life that I really just want to forget. To be fait my trauma response has taken pretty good care of fucking up my memory and all of those fun things but ironically the things i want to forget about so badly are the things i think about every single day without skipping a beat. brains are weird like that.

I am ok now but sometimes i forget and fall back into my new reality. That is ok. People that know my story ask me why i don’t write about it on a public platform because it’s inspiring?? or hopeful?? or whatever cliche people want to use when addressing a topic that makes them uncomfortable and they want to feel better about the life they live. 21 year old latina girl faces adversity and lives the american dream (barely)..i mean, i did run a whole ass magazine and wrote a piece for graduation including some details of my story but that was like the rated g version with only the little sad parts that people are able to handle without feeling like their comfort zone is being violated. MEdia is a wonderful place isnt it???  so i get where they are coming from, but what they dont understand is that an international platform is not where i can share any of these thoughts... Listen, I know this is cryptic and confusing and you are probably really curious about what the hell happened to me but i don’t feel safe to type it out on international platforms with public access. I don’t know if i ever will... Yeah i can talk to people i trust about it because i am in control of the space and the situation and who is obtaining that information but you never really know with the internet. 

maybe in the future i’ll write a book on it. even then i will probably use my alias make it a YA fiction with an added love story that ends in a happy ending. Maybe one day one of the school girl crushes I have will turn into that YA story and i dont have to make any of it up.

If i am honest...this blog is the only safe place i will probably ever have where he wont find me. He can find my school and my address and phone number and work and everything in between because that is just the way things work. Yeah yeah i get it stop posting shit on social media that is how he finds you whatever. What people dont understand is that I cant stop living my life again. I already started so i cant go back to giving him that power. It makes no sense. Also, his family is too confused by all of the ups and downs of the last year that they dont really know where i am going or what i am doing. So anyways, long story short - That’s why i am back on here, because it has become the same written safe haven I had when i was 15 and tried to escape my physical reality. Only difference is that i am trying to manage the mental reality of it all...

I also have so many questions about what to do next. Like i mentioned in another post, i didnt think i would make it to 21 but i did. I didnt think this far ahead so i guess i will just figure it out along the way but hear me out. How do i face a new reality that no one can relate to. At least not the people around me. How do i make friends and know when the “right time” is to tell them hey btw if this happens lmk lol. Even more importantly (because it relates to my future as world famous YA novelist.. lol sure grace...) How do I even date someone??? many questions are tied to that. like... I know theyre going to ask. “what happened?” “who is it?” “how can i help?” “Isnt there something we can do?”. i am more than willing to answer these questions because fuck, if im dating someone i would be curious too.. but do i even answer those questions. How do i know they are ready to handle that kind of information? how can i guarantee theyre not going to leave. How can i know that they arent going to be frightened by what has happened. how do i know they are not going to think differently of me. How do i explain to this person “yeah i have stress nightmares about what happened and when i wake up i think i am back in that situation and not where i live and i have to remind myself i am in a whole different area code but then its fine lol so if we share a bed at any point in time dont be alarmed if i wake up in a panic.” or how do i explain to them when something triggers me and all i can do is freeze because maybe it is him. Maybe he finally found me. but then i am back to reality and move on with my day because that is the only thing left to do. I cant throw myself a shitty pity party thats generic as fuck and i dont have time for it but whatever. moving on. next question. How do i know theyre not gonna walk away because they have the misconception so many people have?? Just because i went through some shit doesnt mean i am unstable or unloveable or whatever bs people think. This isnt going to go away. This shit is a aprt of me but it doesn not define me. it is not who i am.I dont have the option to make it go away but people have the option to pick up their things and go. seems unfair to me sometimes. It seems unfair to generalize people like that. I am always open to a new relationship but people expect me to be sitting at home scared to go out into the world and live my life. I have a life to live and i am so ready to explore it by myself or with someone by my side but quarantine has brought me back on here to deal with the fact that i am back to being stuck inside. Mentally and physically. One sucks less than the other. 

I have so many other questions but i am feeling tired again and its almost 4am so maybe i should go to bed. Y’all dont know how happy i am to have this trash site to vent to in the middle of the night. theres some relly judgy people on here but at least i know my feed wont judge me or try to fix what has happened. it will just listen.

Anyways, i doubt anyone will read this because this post got long as fuck but if you did i give you a high five and a virtual hug for getting through the clusterfuck of sentences. Thanks tumblr. If i ever go viral again on this shitshow of a website i may have to bring back my studyblr and go underground lmfao jk maybe. I cant wait to hug my friends and the people i have met that have become a part of my daily routine (yes even during social isolation, get off my ass I am still socially isolating). All i can do for now is wait for someone who cares about me for me and isn’t scared of my past or the pieces of it that linger in my present. I deserve nothing less. if they cant do that they are not worth my time and i hope they drop their keys every single time they go to open their front door. oh... they also better be ready for the hours i spend typing away my thoughts on my computer. Maybe one day they will be allowed to read them too... lol maybe not. whatever who knows. Peace out kiddos stay healthy xoxo.