#god i hate ashe's design.

[tritoch]

Something that bugs me a lot in Dawntrail discourse is watching people who think they are defending the expansion argue away its best aspect. Because here's the thing: Wuk Lamat isn't like prior FFXIV characters. She takes up way more space than them. That's good!

A common thread you see in defenses is that people are complaining about things they were fine with earlier in the story. "Oh well actually Lyse was also the main character of Stormblood and people didn't hate her as much!" or "Heavensward is the story of Aymeric and Estinien and Ysayle, and the Warrior of Light doesn't do that much!" or "No one complained when Gaia jumped into the Eden raids, or when Emet showed up during Seat of Sacrifice" with the implied conclusion of "Wuk Lamat's not different from any other previous major character, your complaints have more to do with [sexism/transphobia/your crippling insecurity about not being the main character] than the way she's written." First of all people did hate Lyse. I get what you are saying but they very much did hate Lyse.

But Wuk Lamat is different. She's different because Dawntrail is unapologetically, full-throatedly her story. She is there at the start, she is there at the end, she is there basically all the way through except for a brief interlude. She is the character you talk to the most, she is also the character that talks the most. She has more of a complete arc than anyone else in the expansion. The antagonists develop much stronger direct and personal relationships to her than they ever do with you. Several major characters have relationships to you through her more than they do with you directly. At multiple points in the story you explicitly step back and are like "Go right ahead, queen, do the main character stuff." She 100% takes your role in certain ways. She's literally a new WL to your WoL!

and that's awesome! Like, holy shit! If you had traveled back in time and told me after Endwalker, "Hey, the next expansion will be almost solely and entirely focused on the character journey of a young woman, and she'll be nuanced and complex and allowed to fail but also allowed to succeed wildly, and her characterization will be interesting and her ideals will be very directly challenged, and she'll get to do some real classic 'sorry my noble opponent but I must stop you, even though I sympathize' shit, and the way she is framed won't feel excessively male-gazey, and she won't get stuck in the FFXII Ashe Miniskirt, and she won't just be someone you watch and clap for while the real protagonist and narrator is some random guy in her entourage," I would've been like "haha, okay, I like FFXIV as much as the next guy but I don't think it's shaken its baseline sexism off enough to do an expansion entirely about a woman and her personal growth and what makes her a good leader, especially after Stormblood's mixed reception. And CBU3 definitely doesn't have the guts to make her even more of a main character than any other prior NPC, and you didn't mention this part future time traveler, but I also don't believe they'll be willing to cast a trans woman in the role." And I would have been fucking wrong!

Yes, Wuk Lamat is the main character. Yes, she does get more attention than other NPCs, or even your Warrior of Light. And yes, that's totally fine, and even something to praise!!! You don't have to run from it to accommodate people who are looking for something to complain about!

[lovesodakid]

what a tease.

chris x fem!reader

summary: y/n and chris have a ‘weird’ friendship. that friendship took a sexual turn one night. which ultimately led them to being friends with benefits. now, playing card games with everyone with slight teasing between two of them.

warnings: smut!, teasing, dom!chris(ish). should be it. *not proof read*

____________________________________________

“oh my god, nick!” i whine, throwing my face into my hands.

the triplets, madi, and i are all having a game night at the triplets house. we all collectively decided that we needed to have a night to our selves, all of us being so busy with work causing us to almost barely see each other anymore.

nick, matt, and madi sit on the couch as chris and i are sat on the floor in front of the coffee table facing the couch. a deck of UNO cards sitting in a nice stack in the middle of the table, while right beside it, is a messy stack of cards that’s been thrown down by each of us.

nick just threw the +4 card down on me.

“sorry y/n!” he giggles, showing anything but empathy in his face.

i groan before grabbing 4 cards off of the stack, earning myself 2 reverse cards, a +2 card, and a regular blue number 9 card.

chris being after me, he lays down his choice of card before speaking.

“you’re definitely the type to throw tables when you lose a game y/n/n.”

my eyebrows furrow as i shoot him a disapproving look.

“you are so insanely wrong,” i begin. “i might hate losing but i definitely don’t throw tables.”

“i don’t know, you kinda seem like that type.” matt chimes in.

i throw my hands in the air, opening my mouth to speak until i get cut off by nick and madi agreeing while laughing to themselves.

the game continues, music humming at a low volume coming from the tv.

once the game end games with matt winning, we sit around in the same spots, just talking about life and what our plans for the future are.

“i’m working on new designs for second choice right now, i don’t have anything else going on other than that at the moment.” madi explains to all of us.

“can i see some!” nick asks excitedly.

“of course!” madi smiles, grabbing her phone, scrolling on it, seemingly showing nick her designs as he lets out a few ‘oo’s and ‘ahh’s in adoration.

matt, sitting next to them scrolling on his own phone.

chris and i, sitting next to each other, also on our own phones. occasionally showing each other funny tiktoks that’s come across our for you pages.

“here.” chris says. pointing his phone toward me so i can see his screen.

i look over to his phone, expecting some video of someone falling, like he’s showed me pretty much everytime he decides to show me something.

but oh. was i wrong.

when i look at his phone, it’s one of those slide pictures, with a red background. i swipe two times before reading the words on the red screen.

“you look good in clothes. but you’d be looking fine ash without them.”

im surprised my eyeballs didn’t come rolling out of my head by how wide my eyes opened, along with my mouth.

i shake my head, pushing his phone away from me as he lets out a small chuckle.

a few moments go by, occasional conversations between nick and madi, sounds coming from our phones, and the music in the background filling the silence.

until i feel a warmth on my exposed thigh, due to my pajama shorts. i look down, noticing chris’s hand almost completely covering it. god. how i love his hands.

i quickly come out of my trance of staring at his hands as i look up to him, furrowing my eyebrows.

he notices, and mouths a quick “what?”.

i look down to his hand, then back up to him, almost as if to say: “what are you doing?”

with that, he just gives me a cocky grin as he turns his attention back to his phone, keeping his hand on my thigh.

thankfully, it seems like everyone else is in their own little world, completely oblivious to chris’s actions as he slowly and sensually works his hand more upwards. closer and closer to my center until his middle and ring finger are slightly ghosting over the middle of my shorts.

“hey y/n/n, do you want to see my new designs?” madi asks, turning her phone around to face me as she slightly leans over the coffee table.

“sure!” i smile, leaning my own body forward a little bit.

in my peripheral vision, i notice chris’s face being taken over by a sly smirk. before i can question it, i feel a quick up and down motion right on my clothed clit. that’s why he was smirking.

“so…what do you think?” madi asks, excitedly.

i clear my throat to choke back a small moan as his finger movement speeds up. “t-they’re gorgeous!” i chirp back.

she smiles sweetly at me as she leans back into the couch, attention going back to her phone.

i turn my own attention on to not making any sounds as chris continues to speedily move his fingers against me.

i grab his hand with mine, harshly moving it to his own lap as i leave it there. which causes him to quickly snap his head toward me with the most smug grin on his face.

i roll my eyes, turning my phone back on to scroll through instagram.

“hey do you guys wanna bake some brownies?” nick questions the group excitedly.

-

“and now we wait 30 minutes.” madi tells us, setting the pan of uncooked brownies into the oven.

“i don’t know if i can wait that long!” chris groans loudly.

“you’ll be fine kid.” matt chuckles, picking up the trash that was left over from our baking.

i walk over to get the bowl of brownie batter. because everyone knows brownie batter is the best part about brownies.

i swirl the spoon around the bowl, picking up some of the left over mix. i lift it up to my mouth, licking the spoon clean as i hum at the chocolatey taste.

i go to put the spoon back in the bowl to scoop up the rest but i stop as i get the feeling of eyes burning holes into me. i look up, noticing chris staring at my mouth. like his eyes can’t be ripped away.

i smile to myself, scooping up the rest of the batter before i stick my tongue out, slowly licking up the spoon. i hold eye contact with chris as i do so.

“hey y/n…can you come help me pick out an outfit for our next photo shoot?” chris asks, a small hint of urgency lacing his voice.

i nod my head, putting the empty bowl and spoon into the sink.

“don’t take too long, we got brownies to eat!” nick exclaims as chris and i make our way to his room.

well more of chris dragging me to his room.

once we get to his bedroom door, he swiftly opens it, pulling me into the room behind him. he practically slams the door shut as he pushes me against the back of it, pinning me to it.

“what the fuck was that?” he rasped.

i furrow my eyebrows, allowing a playful smirk to spread across my face.

“what?” i question dumbly.

“you know what.” he retorts.

i shake my head side to side. “no i don’t.” i say mockingly.

he lets out a low chuckle before leaning into me, his lips grazing over my ear. i’d be a fool to say the sound of his husky laugh coming from his mouth didn’t turn be on tremendously.

“licking that spoon like that?” he rasps, lifting his left hand to caress the left side of my face as he breaths into my right. “the same way you use that tongue on my dick?”

he closes the gap, his mouth attaching itself on that spot right under my ear.

“chris!” i yelp breathlessly, the tingling in my abdomen becoming almost unbearable from the teasing earlier and now this.

“hmm?” he hums. “what is it baby?” he detaches hisself from me, staring into my eyes.

i whine at the detachment as i return his gaze.

“i need you.” i whine in a whisper.

“mhm.” he hums, a smirk present on his face as he connects our lips.

our lips dance across each other smoothly like a ballerina sways across a stage.

his left hand slides from my cheek to my neck, wrapping his hand around it firmly as he pulls me off the door.

he swiftly turns me around, walking me backwards until the back of my knees hit the smooth frame of his bed.

he intensifies the pressure on my throat. but as quickly as he does, it’s also gone as he uses that to push me onto the pillowy soft comforter of his bed.

my body bounces from the impact before stopping, sinking into the mattress.

he waists no time in using his hands to loop around the waistband of my pajama shorts, yanking them down. they end up finding home somewhere on his bedroom floor.

“god ‘ma. did i do this to you?” he groans, noticing the wet patch in my orange lace underwear. he takes his index finger, running it up and down my clothed folds. repeating his steps from earlier.

my hips buck up, not expecting the sudden motion.

“chris!” i cry out.

“shh baby,” he removes the hand from my center, covering my mouth with it. “don’t want them to hear you, hm?”

i nod my head. he smirks, removing it. “think you can handle being quiet?” he husks, removing his sweatpants.

i nod my head once again, this time at a faster pace than before.

he pushes his red boxers down, stepping out of them. his cock visibly throbbing, needing attention.

he kneels back down between my legs, his hands making their way up the plush of my thighs. once he reaches the lining of my panties, his fingers hook around them before skillfully gliding them down. which also end up making home on his bedroom floor.

“we gotta be quick ‘ma.” he breathes out. referring to the fact that there’s still a house full upstairs.

he crawls over me, using his hands to hold himself up as they come on each side of my head.

“you ready baby?” he cooes, rubbing his hand up and down my clothed stomach. the both of us only being nude from waist down.

“yes.” i whisper, entangling my hand in his hair.

he smiles as he looks down between us. i moan softly as his tip begins pushing into me.

“fuck.” he groans as he bottoms out, his head falling into the crook of my neck.

“move chris, please.” i whimper.

he pulls out, leaving his tip in before he pushes back in at a slow pace.

he continues the slow thrusts, my walls hugging his dick in all of the right ways.

“chris, faster!” i moan out.

almost as if he was waiting for me to say it, he speeds his thrusts. rutting into me at a harsh but pleasurable pace.

“taking me so well, hm?” he grunts into my ear. the rasp of his voice traveling through my ear straight to my pussy.

the tip of his dick continuously kissing the sweet spot inside me, sending me over the edge.

“mm-fuck.” i moan quietly, reminding myself of the people upstairs.

“were you thinking about this when you were licking that spoon like that?” he grunts. “maybe next time you can use that pretty little tongue on my cock?”

i moan in response. his hips snapping into mine at a quick pace.

“chris-i’m gonna cum!” i warn, feeling the coil in my stomach get closer to snapping.

“c’mon baby, cum for me.” his already quick pace speeding.

almost as if my body needed confirmation, the coil snaps immediately. ecstasy coating my body.

“fuck.” chris moans in a grunt. his hips sputtering as he paints my insides white.

we lay with our body’s connected for a moment as we both catch our breaths.

he eventually pulls out, causing both of us to hiss at the slight overstimulation. he walks to his bathroom, grabbing a towel to clean the both of us up.

once we’re both clean, he dresses himself before dressing me.

“let’s head up now, yeah?” he pulls me up, leaving a small kiss on my forehead as i nod.

we both make our way out of his bedroom, back upstairs to join everyone else.

“took you long enough! the brownies are done!” nick yells excitedly. a plate with a half eaten brownie sitting on it. matt and madi sitting with him at the table.

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a/n: i’m so sorry this took so long to get out !! im working on sts 6! and sorry this is so rushed, esp towards the end, i kept zoning out during it so it lowkey kinda sucks lol

(also thank you to @imwetforyourmom and @bernardsbendystraws for lowkey helping me out w this 🙏)

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[toomuchracket]

secret admirer (dad!ross x reader fluff)

day 1 of valentine's week by bff @abiiors!! in this one... the kids want to know how you and ross got together. cute as shit. enjoy <3

it's at dinnertime when you're first asked the question. 

ross is quietly coaxing keir to finish his peas, to minimal success. eilidh swallows a mouthful of gravy-soaked mash and turns to look at you curiously. “mummy… how did you and dad meet?”

“you already know, bean,” you take a sip of your wine and smile at her. “met dad and your uncles when i helped design the stage for one of their first shows.”

ross takes a break from lecturing your son about the merits of eating your five-a-day to look at you and wink. there's a warmth in those dark eyes of his - the same one that got you hooked on him in the first place, actually - and you know he's thinking about that fateful first meeting too. “yeah, when i had to save mum, eilidh,” he chuckles. “from matty talking about his vision at a hundred miles an hour. her eyes were proper glazed over and everything, you know.”

“they still go like that when he talks to you now sometimes, mummy,” keir adds, still pushing peas around his plate. his dad and sister laugh, while your jaw falls open at the fact you've been clocked by your four year old.

he's not wrong, though.

eilidh's giggles fade into soft hums. “but how did you end up being boyfriend and girlfriend?”

ross’s eyes meet yours again. he smirks, taking a sip of his own wine. “d'you want to tell the story, love?” he asks, foot sliding up your leg under the table, flirty. “or shall i tell them how i swept you off your feet?”

“oh, is that what it was?” you tease, trapping his leg between your own.

“of course.”

you laugh. “you and i remember it differently, then. but alright,” you stretch, shuffling in your seat before looking at your kids’ anticipated little faces. “here's what happened…”

2013

“should we do something different for valentine's day?”

you turn to look incredulously at matty, exhaling your cigarette smoke. “is further context required there, or are you asking me out? because absolutely not, if so.”

“oh, charming. thank god i see you as a little sister and no more,” matty winces, taking a drag of his own cigarette before he speaks again. “i mean for the show on the 14th. we could do, like, pink lighting instead of white, or something.”

you hum. “i don't hate the idea. but i think sticking with the black and white thing is maybe a good idea for now. cohesion, recognition, establishing identity as you gear up to release the album, all that jazz, yeah?”

“good point.”

“i do like the pink, though. maybe we could do something with it in the future?”

“yeah. i'll keep it in mind. usual staging it is, then,” matty turns to face you, resting a shoulder on the brick wall. “so, given that you've theoretically rejected me…

you roll your eyes.

“... who are you seeing on valentine's day?”

“nobody. we've got a gig, remember?” you ash your cigarette glumly. “i'll be selling t-shirts with your face on them up the back of the venue all night.”

“and i love you - platonically - for that,” your friend grins. “but what about after the show?”

“after?”

“yeah.”

you ponder. “probably just going home to shower off the residual weed smell i'll inevitably take on, to be honest.”

matty laughs; his face drops when he realises you're not kidding. “oh. you're serious.”

“mhmm.”

“but,” he looks baffled. “you're twenty-three. you're cute, objectively. you're sweet. you're fun. there's really nobody you want to spend valentine's day with?”

well… your lips part of their own accord as if to speak; you quickly snap them shut before you make a sound. no. you can't tell anyone. especially matty, of all people.

apparently, though, you don't close your mouth fast enough - your friend notices, and giggles, eyes lighting up. “who is he? go on, tell me. promise i won't tell anyone, honest.”

“not a chance.”

“pleeeeeeeeeease?”

“no, matthew,” you take a final drag of your cigarette before stamping it out. “i'm never telling anyone, because it'll never go anywhere between me and him anyway, and thus i am perfectly fine just letting the crush i have fade without acting on it. i'll develop another one soon, anyway.”

no you won't. you've never fancied someone as much in your life as you fancy…

“there you are. was wondering where you'd gotten to, matty,” ross wanders round the side of the building, relief evident on his face. it seems to light up when he sees you, but that's most likely your brain playing tricks on you. “oh. hiya, love. didn't know you were in today, s'nice to see you.”

love?!

shut up. it's ross. he calls everyone that, dipshit.

you clear your throat. “hi, ross. s'nice to see you too. you look… well.”

you pray neither of the boys noticed the awkward pause while you came up with an alternative for “devastatingly attractive”, or that your voice didn't sound as small and squeaky as it sounded to you.

thankfully, neither of them mention it. ross just smiles, and all you can do is focus on not squealing at how cute his dimples are. “thanks. you look good. hair's nice like that.”

“oh,” you self-consciously touch the ponytail you hastily shoved your hat-messy hair into earlier. “thank you.”

he smiles again. “so, what are you gonna develop another of? were you talking about work?”

you say “yes” at the same time the gobshite next to you says “yeah, but then we moved onto talking about how she has no valentine's day plans but she also won't tell whoever she has a crush on that she wants to shag them because she thinks it’s unrequited.”

for fuck's sake.

sighing, you facepalm. ross blinks. “fair enough.”

“you don't think she should tell him?” matty looks aghast.

“what i think is that you should stop pestering her about it,” ross looks pointedly at matty, then turns to you. “but - and i don't want to overstep the mark here, love…”

“no, no, it's fine.”

“... you’ll never get what you really want unless you ask for it,” he finishes, a pleasant smile on his face. “what have you got to lose by doing so, anyway?”

this. our friendship. potentially my job, if i fuck it up enough.

“yeah, i suppose,” you murmur hesitantly. “i'll consider it.”

and you do - in fact, you're still considering it when you next see ross, during setup for the gig on the big day itself. he appears when you're pushing the box light into position on the tiny stage, quickly laying down his bass to run and help you, despite your protests that you've got everything under control.

seeing his arms flex as he works, though, and the way the stark white light somehow manages to warm up those dark eyes? you most definitely do not. still, you refuse to say anything to him then. or before the show, when he automatically passes you a beer so you can be included in the pre-gig cheers. or afterwards, when he risks being pounced upon by drunken fans just so he can help you pack up the merch stall, cracking jokes despite his tiredness.

it's only when you're loading the boxes of t-shirts into adam's car that you actually start to think that mentioning the crush to ross might not be a bad thing. you close the boot with a weary sigh, turning to face ross and high-five him - like you always do - with gratitude. and then he does something… strange.

he hugs you.

it's not a long hug, and definitely one of the “thanks, mate” variety, but still. it's not a common thing to happen between the two of you, ross’s arms wrapping around your shoulders and your waist and pulling you into his chest. it's warm. cosy. safe. and as soon as he lets go, you miss him.

before you get a chance to dwell on that, though, he speaks. “you coming to the pub with us now?”

“us?” your brow furrows. “who's us?”

“everyone except adam and waughy,” ross grins. “you're not the only one with no valentine's plans, love,” his face contorts into panic. “wait, fuck, i just assumed, because you said last week-”

“ross, relax, babe,” you smile, beating yourself up internally for the way the pet name just slipped out; you blame the joy that fizzed up in your stomach when he essentially admitted he's single. “i'm coming to the pub.”

he smiles again, relief evident in his eyes. “alright. good. i think we'll have a good night.”

you do, actually, despite matty monologuing the whole walk there about “you should just phone that guy you like and tell him. for the love of god, at least one of us needs to pull tonight. s'depressing if we don't”. it's actually george who manages that first, disappearing after the first round with a redhead and returning, lipstick-stained and gleefully dazed, half an hour later. matty's next, chatting up girls at the bar and collecting phone numbers by the handful, pointing out vaguely handsome men to you with “yes? no? maybe?” to no avail.

ross doesn't pull at all.

not for lack of trying from the female clientele in the pub, though - every time he leaves the table, you watch heads turn in his direction, and some bodies following. envy tinges your vision green whenever a girl approaches him, but you needn't worry; no matter how pretty or persistent or personable the girls are, ross politely chats as he waits for the drinks, bids them goodbye, and comes back to you. well, to the table. where he sits next to you.

it makes you feel good. so good, in fact, that you decide to tell him how you feel, right then and there. you take another sip of your wine - dutch courage and all - and rest your elbow on the table and your head on your hand, facing ross. “i'm glad i came out tonight.”

“so am i,” he mirrors your pose, smiling. god, you love his dimples. “it's been a good night.”

“yeah. not a bad valentine's day at all.”

ross giggles. “as good as it gets for singles,” he takes a sip of his pint, then looks at you a bit more seriously. “you spoken to that guy yet? the one you like?”

you bite down a giggle, shaking your head. “d'you think i should? ask him out?”

“if you really like him, yeah.”

“but,” you look down at the table, absentmindedly running your index finger round the rim of your glass. “what if he doesn't like me?”

“why wouldn't he?” ross's voice is soft - so are his eyes, you look up to discover. “you're great.”

“really?”

he nods. “really great.”

your heart glows. your face does the same. “thank you, ross.”

he shrugs. “i'm just telling the truth, love. now,” he grins, tapping your phone. “ask him.”

bless him. 

you exhale, smiling. “alright,” you turn round to compose yourself, then look back at ross with a smile. “would you like to go for dinner with me?”

for a second, you falter as ross's brow furrows. “what, now? like a kebab- oh,” his jaw drops, and he blinks a few times. “really? it's me that you have a crush on?”

“yeah,” you bite the inside of your cheek, nervous. “is that��� really bad?”

“hmm? no, no, not at all! just surprising, s'all,” ross takes your free hand in his own. he looks dazed, but he's genuinely smiling. “i had no idea you liked me like that.”

“and here i was thinking i was doing a shit job at hiding it.”

ross laughs, softly stroking the back of your hand with his thumb; warmth erupts under your skin wherever he touches. he looks at you, so tenderly you want to look away. “yes.”

your turn to be confused. “yes i was doing a shit job at hiding my crush on you? or…?”

“no, love,” ross chuckles, squeezing your hand. “yes, i'd love to go for dinner with you. tomorrow too soon?”

you feel weightless, joyous, positively giddy. but you have to stay cool, so you simply beam at him. “tomorrow's perfect.”

present day

“...so, we went for dinner - pasta, before you ask, keir - and that was it. dad said he wanted to be my boyfriend before we'd even gotten to the tiramisu,” you smile at the memory. “and then we were like that for a while, and then we got married, and then we had you two. and now, here we are.”

“that's it?” keir frowns at you, then looks up at his dad. “but you said you swept mum off her feet.”

ross snorts, ruffling his son's hair. “yeah, not literally, keeks. i just meant that she was very impressed by me.”

“i don't get it.”

“well, ask matty to explain metaphors to you when you next see him, then.”

you wince (ross laughs at that), turning to your daughter, preoccupied with petting ash the cat, who climbed onto her lap halfway through your talk. “thoughts, eils?”

“hmm,” she makes a face. “it's not a very exciting story, mum.”

“cute, though, no?”

“kind of, i guess.”

“wow, you two are hard to impress,” you sigh, turning to ross and smiling despite your kids’ boredom. “worked out well for us, though, didn't it?”

“absolutely, love. couldn't have worked out any better,” ross leans over the table to kiss you; you return it with relish.

“ewwwwwwww! gross!”

“dad, please don’t do that to mum in front of me ever again.”

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

I’ve finally reached a point where I can sit down and do some work on Ash’s game on my own. It took a lot longer than I thought it would. Not only because his workflow is incredibly chaotic, but also his design is incredibly complex, far more complex than anything we work on at Rainy Day, but it’s fun to feel challenged again.

I’ve spent every night this week in Ash’s living room while he walks me through everything he has so far, sorting out the design and the mechanics, his ideas for the worlds, characters, storylines, objectives, and so on. Yet, it feels like we’ve only scratched the surface.

We work well together, but we’re also easily distracted, often going off on random tangents and talking about everything from our families to school years and childhood friends to experiences we’ve had or want to have; we talk about how fun it would be to have our own indie gaming company one day, if only we could focus on the actual game for longer than an hour at a time.

Last night a song came on that inspired a whole conversation about music and all the songs we used to sing the wrong lyrics to, and some he still sings wrong just to annoy Lex. We started playing a game where we’d give each other a random word or category and the other would have to play a song they liked that fit. At one point I asked him what his guilty pleasure song is.

“Oh, I have dozens of those,” he said, “uh, but the first one that comes to mind is The Boys of Summer.”

“Your guilty pleasure song is an 80’s song?” I was shocked considering the amount of shit he gives me for the majority of my playlist.

“No no no no,” he shook his head, “I should clarify. The original sucks.”

“Of course you think so.”

“Obviously. Okay, but the one I’m talking about is the cover of The Boys of Summer by The Ataris.

“I like the name, but I have no idea who that is,” I admitted.

He laughed as he pulled up the song and told me, “You’re either going to love this or hate it. I’m not sure which.” When he pressed play, all I could do was watch in awe as he shamelessly enjoyed the song, complete with hand motions, air guitar and lip syncing. At one point he leaned in and sang directly to me, “But I don’t understand what happened to our love. But baby when I get you back, I’m gonna show you what I’m made of!” And then he spun away and started dancing to the chorus.  

Before I had a chance to think too hard about whether he was trying to tell me something through the lyrics, he pulled me off the couch to join him. We sang and danced with everything we had until we collapsed onto the couch, out of breath and wiping tears from our eyes.

When we finally calmed down, he pointed at me, “Your turn. What’s your guilty pleasure song?”

“Oh god,” I covered my face, “I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this.”

“Tell me.” He demanded.

“Dancing With Myself by Generation X. I can’t hear it and not sing and dance around my apartment like an idiot.”

“Oh, I have got to see this!” He sat up excitedly to find the song and turn it on… and then cheered when I began clapping my hands to the beat… and then completely lost it and fell over laughing when I sang along with my eerily accurate Billy Idol impersonation.

It’s become one of my favorite things, making him laugh. He has about a dozen different laughs from a rush of air through his teeth, to an infectious giggle, to a loud belly laugh… but my favorite is when he’s laughing so hard that no sound comes out aside from a series of clicks until he finally catches his breath.

It’s so easy with him, to get out of my head, to just relax and be myself.

Not everything is easy, though. I keep telling myself that eventually my feelings will fade, that it will get easier to just be his friend and nothing more, but if anything, it’s getting more difficult. Sometimes when we’re together, all I can think about is sliding my hand over to rest it on his leg, or to pick up his hand and interlace our fingers, or to reach up and hold his face, turning it toward me so I can kiss him. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about kissing him, his lips, his neck, that inch skin above his waistband that sometimes shows when his shirt rides up just enough, every part of him. Sometimes I let my eye contact linger just a little, desperate for him to give me a sign that he still feels the same way, but he never does. On some level, I’m grateful. It’s better this way. I’d only end up hurting him again.

I hear the front door open and close, bringing me out of my daydream and back to my computer screen. I look over what I’ve done so far to make sure I didn’t screw anything up while I drifted away.

A second later, I hear Dawn enter the room and flop onto my bed behind me and I glance at the clock, it’s only two.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“Finished early. What are you doing? I thought you weren’t working on Fridays anymore.”

“I’m not. It’s just a side project I’m working on with Ash.”

“Ooooh I see.”

I roll my eyes and change the subject before she can inquire further. “So, why are you on my bed? What do you want?” As I say the words, I’m overcome by the feeling that we’ve done this before.

“For you to take a break and go do something with me." I'm antsy. "I’m antsy.” Her words come out like an echo from my own mind and my whole body feels fuzzy for a moment.

“Have we had this conversation before?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Hm. I’m having the weirdest déjà vu.”

“Maybe you’ve been staring at that screen too long. We should get out and do something.”

“What do you have in mind?”

I’m open to suggestions. “I’m open to suggestions.”

Weird. This conversation, the song playing through my speaker, Dawn laying on my bed, me at my computer… everything feels so familiar. “Where’s your boyfriend? Why aren’t you dragging him out?” Even as I ask the question, I know I’ve asked it before.

“He’s busy…” Having coffee with his ex-girlfriend. “Having coffee with his ex-girlfriend.”

Okay, I clearly need some fresh air, and she clearly needs my support right now, so I save my work, lock my computer, and spin around to face her. “Oh, that’s why you’re antsy. Okay, I can take a break, but let’s go outside. We can go for a jog, that’ll get your energy out.”

“Fine, I’ll go change.”

Prev // Deja vu // Next

[txttletale]

Can you give your thoughts on the general character art design of Hades? It's always seemed kind of off to me and you seem to have good enough media opinions to put the reason why into words

i mean, first of all, i think that they suffer just from being The Greek Gods and therefore just having the most barebones basic designs that those archetypal characters get in pop culture. like look at zeus:

like. this is Zeus. there are some interesting flairs here with the lightning crown and cloud beard but like. It's Zeus. the visual language here is not communicating anything more interesting or unique or vivid than It's Zeus. contrast, like, rukey from pyre:

look at how much fucking personality is conveyed by this little freak. the fucking moustache! the fancy little cloak but the messy dog hair. the playful expression, the gold tooth, the glint of cunning in the eye, the raised little paw. you look, at this guy and get an immediate idea of what and who he is.

i also hate how 1. shrinkwrapped and 2. fucking grey and ashy every single character in hades is. like look at zeus's muscles up there this man is fucking dehydrated and like. why does athena look like this

she is grey. she is so fucking grey. this is a vampire. this is a woman made of ash.

furthermore i find what they did with the greek gods wrt to making them a few different races to be a cowardly half-measure. like--the idea they forwarded in interviews that greek gods are 'global' and should represent the whole world are, quite frankly, just bullshit! i dislike this universalization of a mythology that is very very very tied to a particular culture and time and place because it is just another shape of the attempted universalization of the 'Western Canon', the removal of these things from historical place and context to make them abstract ideals that can be imposed upon the whole world because they 'transcend culture' while really they have just been incorporated into a dominant culture.

but, like, most frustratingly--there is a like huge wealth of cultural variety to be found in greco-roman myth. versions of these gods were worshipped in north africa and egypt and west asia and even as far as india. but, like, the commitment to multiethnicisim is purely surface-level, so they don't employ any of the iconography or look into these non-european syncretic depictions of these deities. they just take all their design cues from the tired pop-culture versions of purely greek aesthetics. imagine how fucking interesting the character designs for hades could have been if instead of making dionysus a person of colour and calling it a day, they represented a specifically indo-greek dionysus!

first after the conquests of alexander and once again after the expansion of the roman empire, these sorts of syncretic beliefs flourished throughout the mediterranean. if you really want to write a greek mythology story without a cast of white guys then give me Zeus-Ammon, god dammit!

anyway yeah the fact that all of hades' characters look like they're severely hydrated and their roof just caved in on them is weird and bad and other than that they're for the most part just deeply generic Greek Gods with what feels like very little care or innovation or personality put into their designs compared to characters from transistor or pyre. shomar shasberg and manly tindenstauf each have more unique visual personality than every hades character combined

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

16 - Ashes of Various Grey

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

Length: 16.1k

Warnings: Angst/hurt comfort, character death, mention of child death, description and threats of violence, mental duress, execution, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v, possessiveness

Notes: The length is absurd because I have zero self control, but hey part 4 starts today. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here.

Shireen had always been as fascinated by the Targaryeans as she was fearful of them. Many years she had spent asking and wondering if the dragons carved into stone of the ornate castle would one day come to life, always in a fear. Yet you could recall the books she had on them, her favourites always being about Aegon’s conquering. Part of you had always wondered if it was growing up on Dragonstone that caused the interest. The volcanic rocky terrain that surrounded your home, the impossibly beautiful yet terrifying design of the castle itself with dragons atop pillars and towers. All mixed with the looming not so distant history that you and her grew up in the very place that homed the dragon riders that would soon conquer the lands.

You never cared much for it, not for the stories, not for the dragons and not for the oddness of the Targaryeans and their strange and unseemly ways of life. But she did, Maester Cressen once said that teaching her to read was a terrible idea since it took him days to get her to pay attention to any other lessons once she started understanding the words of history. She yearned for adventure, and you had always spoken of many and the older she got the bigger the adventures were promised. Dragonstone was no place for a girl like her to grow up but you made it work as best you could to see her smile.

You told yourself it was hypocritical. You had refused to let the Nights Watch and Wildings burn Jon’s body and yet you let the same fate be that for your baby sister. Trying to tell yourself that the Targaryeans burned the bodies of their dead, and following a ritual of something that fascinated the girl was one last indulgence of her passions. But part of you, knew it was childish desperation.

You didn’t do what you had done, for them. Not for the red woman, not for her god, and not for whatever visions she saw in the flames that demanded a sacrifice. You had given her a death that would end the suffering she was laying in. Almost unrecognizable from what her own mother let happen, kept asleep with essence of nightshade solely because the pain alone could end her. She cried and begged to you it was a mistake, but she let it happen. She allowed Melisendre to drag your sister onto a pyre and only cried for it to stop when her screams became too much. She died without knowing you came back to her, and it was their fault. It was your mother and this red priestess that whispered in her ear.

But perhaps burning her, wasn’t just for Shireen. You woke from what felt like the dead to a life with none left in it. Robb and your son dead without you, most of his and your family dead across the lands and finally as you found your way back to some, you found just more death. She had said burning that of King’s Blood was a sacrifice needed, and perhaps if there was the slightest chance giving Shireen to the fire would find a way to bring your father back maybe you should just do it. She was already gone, and burning bodies was the way the far North did things now but perhaps a tiny helpless part of you wondered if it would bring Stannis Baratheon back.

You had no idea if he had died hating you, still thinking you as a traitor but perhaps it would be easier to look at the cold hateful eyes of him, then it was to look at nothing left but quiet.

One day had been spent thrown back into the duty of a leader and yet every single choice you made was done alone, done out of desperation, and every single thing just felt like you were nothing of a leader that the King’s once around you were.

The cold of the night was painful, stinging your face and hands as you walked through the tunnel hearing the whirling of wind ting in your ears. The sheet of white in your arms was all you’d allow anyone to see. She didn’t deserve to be remembered this way, she deserved to be remembered as the girl she once was.

Coming to the end, the land opened up to a vast clearing that led into the darks of a forest you had seen in your dreams. The fire was no ceremony, no ritual to be done. Small enough for a girl.

Your mother stood beside Ser Davos on the right in front of him, and you could see Theon and Edd standing a smaller distance away keeping watch. None said a word as you approached. Your eyes far off as your lungs refused to even breathe. Gently, you knelt down to lay her on the flattened pyre. Running a hand over where the top of her hair lay under the sheet. She deserved more then this.

Coming up to your side, Tormund held a torch as he crouched beside you. Most wouldn’t speak a word in such a situation, but you found a small appreciation in how comfortably he approached you. Voice low and grumbling as he watched. “Why bring her out here to do it?”

There was a gentleness in the way you looked and touched her that was uncommon of most everyone he had met. You wanted to smile at the memory, but you felt only the way the dagger so easily slid into the base of her skull. “She had never even left home before this. She always dreamed of adventures and the last time I saw her, I’d promise to take her on one.”

He had told Jon once that once they burn their dead that’s it, there’s nothing else to it. But then there was the anger in finding his body, the way Edd had closed Jon’s eyes as he spat that some fucker had butchered him. And now in the way you looked like this was the one last tie to the world before you faded away forever, you weren’t speaking to him really. The whisper for the girl under the sheet.

“I know it’s not where I said I’d take you. I’m sorry I couldn’t fulfill my promise, but beyond the wall is as far as either of us have ever been. A small adventure is still an adventure none the less, right?” Leaning down you pressed one last gentle kiss to her forehead before Tormund handed you the torch.

Both standing up, you placed it down onto the wood before backing away to stand to the left of your mother and Davos. The flames lit and burned in flickering quiet, the crackling of wood all there was to hear and none of the screams that haunted the night before in the chaos.

Your face was still, unmoving and in life’s previous you’d have wondered if you looked cold and uncaring but you knew the tears slipping from your eyes as you watched the fire consume more of her, they all could see. Your pain sat right in the colours of your eyes and as you looked into the flames you saw nothing. Whatever visions were said to be there, you only found the last of those who held your heart and a life of darkness alone in the hours of the next morning to await what was left of you.

The only ones left were three of you. Edd continued to watch, and would make sure you got safely behind the wall once you were ready to go back through the tunnel. Tormund had no reason to stay with you as you watched, but you were glad he did. None of this should have mattered to a man like him, but in his own mind, Jon mattered to him and you mattered to Jon. Which meant you were someone who mattered to Tormund now.

The only other friend you had left was in Theon, but there was betrayal, pain, and blood in that history. At least in Tormund the pain that greeted in less horror and agony then the other.

Neither man said a word as the remains of the fire smouldered and little was left in it to be recognized by any. Uncaring of the remaining heat, you knelt down and gathered a handful of ash and bone left behind in a small pouch keeping it in the same pocket a small paper flower sat as well. The final thing you could do for her, was keep something of Shireen with you for wherever this tormenting life had in mind for you.

She wanted to go with you on grand journeys and you would take her there.

Left alone as the gates closed behind you, you leaned against the back of a wall and looked up to the glow of the moon. The yard mostly empty as scattered men kept their distance and words to themselves. The tears were still fresh, but you did not wipe them away. Let the gods see you cry for the last of those you love they tore away from you.

Maybe they would finally see fit to end such cruelty.

The stars shined bright in that cold. Mocking you for how much the world around you was the same without having a place for you anymore. Like no matter where you searched, no matter what you did or spoke, part of you had been ripped away so deeply that night and you found nothing to heal it. Nothing that gave you purpose and it all felt futile, like more then people you loved had died, but as if you died and the part of you which came back was just like this night.

It looked clear, the skies beautiful and bright but there was nothing within you but the bitter cold in your lungs and a missing purpose. The path to your fathers quarters was hollow. Gently draping the coat over a shelf, and sitting down in the dim room at his desk felt even worse. The letter weighed so heavily in your pocket that taking it out and tossing it’s folded contents onto the desk almost felt like a shift that left you lightheaded. With it you gently laid both the little flower under what was left of her on the desk as well.

“I will cut out your bastard heart and make her watch.”

“Let you freeze to death next to the bastard who loved you so much.”

The voices passing back and forth in the forefront of your mind as your fingers reached up to where you had laid Longclaw out on top. The pommel even in the light of only the window’s moon, the red jem shined against the carving of the wolf. Jeor Mormont had seen so much in him, that he had the bear remade not just into a Direwolf, but into Jon’s Direwolf. Had given him a sword that once his families for five centuries, and then so betrayed by his own son sat with the man for over twenty years.

He had seen something in Jon that had him dedicated to giving it to him, but felt worthless under your own touch. You had earned nothing, but as long as you were here it seemed it was entrusted in your care. The people looked at you in a silent reverence at the person long thought to be dead and all you had done was make decisions you had no way of knowing if they were even decent.

You had never had to lead like this alone. You hadn’t led anything in over a year, and now you were to do it by yourself and maybe it was a test of how incapable you were. A high ranking man of the Night’s Watch executed under your command only a day after their Lord Commander was murdered, who was supposed to take charge of a mantle so few understood.

His closest companions heard enough about you to trust, but you weren’t Jon and you couldn’t be a leader like him. As you ran your fingertips over the carved teeth you felt that twisting in your stomach that had you put any food in it, may have come right back out. But much like since you found yourself awake, you had little desire for anything but a sleep that never ended.

A scratching at the door is what finally grabbed your attention, scratching and whine that you knew could only come from one animal. As you opened it, you were nearly tackled by Ghost who was suddenly far more energetic then he had been since you arrived. Reminding you more of the puppy you left him as then the unusually intense and aggressive demeanour he had all day.

Leaning down slightly you ran a hand over the side of his face as he whined. Turning in place and beckoning you to come with him, and a whine that seemed more urgent then before. Looking to the outside nothing you could see looked dire but you felt an inkling in your stomach that felt more confusing then sickening.

Glancing back inside, you grabbed Longclaw keeping it tight in your grip as your other hand closed the door behind you. “Alright, it’s alright Ghost. Show me what’s wrong.” Your voice was low and steady but your heart pounded as the direwolf led you down to the ground level and over to the one place you didn’t want to be.

Opening the harsh doors, a few stragglers noticed the grimness of the sight and wondered just what the Direwolf was leading you into but the idea hit both them and you. The stairwell into the main halls of the ice cells was just as it was before. Saving itself from a pitch black only from scattered torchlight.

Your steps echoed against the stone as your breath increased in nervous pants the closer you got to where you didn’t wish to see at this moment. But the cell door, was slightly open and you stood frozen beside Ghost. He just look up at you with another whine, your hand gripping the sheath with one hand and the other tightly against the sword’s mantle as you finally walked forward.

You had told them, you’d handle it. You would deal with the consequence of not burning his body and now it seemed as your final punishment you would have to deal with it now. Dreams long passed of bodies raising up with eyes just as blue as the figures in the night you dreamt of, along the cries of infants. You knew the stories, and you knew the threat that had taken over the worries of all this far North.

It was now though that you’d face it for the first time and it couldn’t be towards a worse opponent. But as the slight open door came into your eyes, you could see nothing outright. Pushing it open only enough that it let you slip inside and Ghost behind you, you didn’t notice you had lived this mistake before as a girl. Outside in the training yard of Winterfell and then too, you hadn’t thought of checking corners or watching for what was coming up behind you.

Stepping towards the iron bars which still had yet to be locked, there no longer was anything there to keep guard. And that was the problem. Your eyes widened, and your heart felt painful inside you as you looked to where you knew for sure you had left him but there was no one.

Ghost had walked to the other side of the room, your eyes glancing to meet his red ones with a sharp panic until it swelled into a fear that sent you turning around, your grip on Longclaw loose enough you almost dropped it. The heavy metal door you walked in though, right behind you now, slammed shut with an echoed thud.

Turning in place though, you could see a hand press down on the lock before you met their eyes. Eyes, that weren’t a crystallized blue, but a grey so dark they appeared almost black.

Neither of you spoke a word in that moment, your heart stopped in your chest as your muscles all shook in such a shock it glued you in place. Just as he looked only with colour and life breathed back into him and far less dead, Jon looked at you with as much of an intensity as you felt.

Instinct told you to fight in fear of what was warned to you, but nothing of what was to be seen was found. It wasn’t a standing corpse in front of you, but just an older, more wild Jon Snow as alive as you were. His own eyes were as incapable of staying in once place as yours, but his feet stepped forward towards you.

Both your breathing was heavy as you dared step forward as well and yet still you saw nothing dead in his eyes. Just as full of words and emotions as he always lived in them and they looked over you as your mouth parted open in words that refused to speak outloud.

You didn’t know when you dropped the sword, but it now lay useless on the ground as you and Jon stood so close in front of each other you could feel the warmth he always gave off even in a place so cold as this. A pain in his eyes that almost looked like he would fall apart was too much, but yet your own found the same place that sickened you hours ago.

Your fingers reaching up, and just as they did before, gently pushed the edges of his shirt aside and ran gently over the wound over his heart. Only this time there wasn’t cold under it, but that of a beating heart as your breathing picked up heavier. Trailing down over the others they were as real as they had been before.

Jon’s own hand reached up, causing you to pause but not look away. Pushing the material up and up until his large, calloused hand ran over the just as mortal, deep scar across your stomach until his palm laid almost flat across it. Like he knew exactly what he was looking for and as your head rose up to look at him, there was such a deep seething anger in his eyes as he looked where he was touching.

Finding the others gaze, you searched for something to say, but your heart was so heavy and so flipped around inside you stammered silently as he looked at you the same. Such a silent whisper in your voice yet it felt like it screamed in the small room. “You were....”

His voice sent something running through your veins, something that burned and shivered down every inch of your nerves as you finally heard it. That deep, low rasping husk of a voice that could entrance you, roughly looked at you with his own pain behind it, a hand still on your own scar. “So were you.”

Not another word was let out though, or even a thought for you finished. Only a moment passed between you, before Jon’s hands reached up to cup both of your cheeks.

Taking you by suprise, he pulled you up while he also leaned down to meet, Jon roughly pressed his lips to yours and suddenly that burning turned into an overwhelming scream in your head. A feeling that took over and shoved out every other thought and sense, as you meekly steadied yourself with hands at his waist. His lips were rough with you, demanding but refused to give you any space to breathe before he turned your body himself and you were shoved roughly into the wall beside you.

Jon pressing his own body tight against you as he moved to hold your jaw and keep your kiss as deep as he could while his other hand ran down and in a second, only pulled from you to suddenly yank your shirt up over your head. The cold of the cells striking over your skin as Jon gritted his teeth in a hiss as his eyes trailed over your bare breasts. You looked at him with a need that you hadn’t felt in such a manner in your entire life, folding instantly into him as he roughly kissed you once more.

His hands reaching up and grasping at your breasts, groping tightly and running his thumbs intently over your nipples until he heard you whine against his mouth. You arched into him as your core already burned at the touch, Jon biting at your lip until you gasped. His tongue slipping into your mouth before his hands gripped and teased you more roughly at how easily you explored him back.

Your own hands suddenly reaching up to shakily rip open the rest of his shirt before trying to move against his demanding kiss and intense touch to push it down his shoulders. Jon never breaking the kiss as he helped shove the material off for you. Your hands running freely along his shoulders and chest before wrapping up around his neck and running into his curls.

Jon cupped the back of your head the second you even tried pulling back for air, refusing you any reprieve as he squeezed every inch of skin his other hand ran along. Kissing deep and increasing in demand as your breaths turned to moans gifted right into his own mouth.

Touch leaving you, Jon ran his hands down until he reached your pants and just as he pulled from your lips, both of you matching in growing red, swollen from his roughness and panting in desperation, he suddenly knelt down. Yanking the material straight down and off your legs. All but throwing your boots to the side and leaving you bare for him in the freezing cold.

You didn’t even consider the scars and horrid marks so blatantly left on the inside of your thighs, as before you could say anything Jon didn’t come back to your lips. Stayed knelt on the ground before pulling your legs as far apart as he could. Gripping your hips to pull you to him, and in a second of confusion for you it was soon replaced with a gasp of his name.

This..you didn’t know about what this is. Had no idea what he was doing but Jon’s mouth leaned up to run along between your legs. His mouth was hot and his tongue licked along your folds up to your clit that had you arch against the stone and hands pressing harder into it as you shook. Jon kept his mouth against your cunt like a true wolf starved from the world as he gripped your hips tightly. Refusing to let you escape him, his tongue ran across your clit before sucking slightly at the tiny bundle, making you jump and cry out his name.

You couldn’t contemplate what Jon was even doing to you, as any slight hint of you trying to pull away from something boiling fast inside of you he yanked you back to him tighter. You knew you were just soaking him from how easily you grew wetter and wetter and it mixed with his tongue running flat along your folds before you cried more.

His hands having pulled you wider open for him, and his tongue reaching to lick inside of you as you stuttered out gasps with no way to speak. Only letting you go long enough to snatch a hand of yours he guided it to run through his hair, and the second you let your nails scratch along his scalp Jon shook against you. The vibrations of his growl against your cunt soaked him more as it spiked a screeching and burning pleasure inside of you. His facial hair burned against your skin, making you desperate enough to want to beg for mercy.

Just as he refused for your lips, he never allowed himself a second to tear way from licking into you as if he could sense every single angle and manner which brought the most moans from you. Truly a wolf that had been starved for weeks and finding something worth dying for between your legs.

Your orgasm passed through you without any warning, you tensed in his hold and hand grasping his curls tighter as he shoved you hard against the wall and ran his tongue across your folds, inside as it pressed along something gaspingly sensitive and back up to your clit. Your core snapped and you begged with nothing but pleas of his name that made him groan and growl into you more.

But he didn’t give you a second’s reprieve. He seemed to lick every sound of wetness between your legs and now the pressure build to the point you almost started to panic. Jon’s grip too strong as he licked so much inside you that he found every way to tune you like an instrument until tears slipped from the corners of your eyes.

Both hands dug into his hair as he pushed you into the wall more and almost forced you to hover just barley on your toes with hands braced against your inner thighs. Letting him press his mouth against you entirely as he dragged you right from one orgasm into another as he refused to let go until he tasted every bit of what you soaked him with.

As your legs shook in his hold, Jon finally pulled away. Rising up with one hand gripping your jaw to tilt you up to his mouth, the other made quick work at tossing off his own pants. Your hands gripping his shoulders as he purposely kissed you with a sloppiness that forced you to taste what heavy wetness you left on his tongue as he ran over yours.

Barley leaving your lips as he moved enough to kick what was left of his own clothes somewhere behind him before tilting your head more up to his mercy, words brushing against your lips that pulled a whine from you, “I love the way you taste.” Before kissing you again and pressing his body tight against you into the wall.

His cock was as hard as the stone scratching at your back. Jon’s hands unable to choose where to stay on as he let himself grind into you, his cock slipping between your legs to move along your entrance.

You writhed into him back as Jon once more returned to his determined goal of keeping your lips pressed against his. As your hands reached behind his neck, Jon suddenly shifted, hoisting you up by your thighs as you kept them partially wrapped around his waist as he held you in his arms against the wall.

This was not the hesitant almost of years ago. As soon as you felt the tip of Jon’s cock press against your clit, he slid along you and with the wetness you soaked his mouth with and how much his own saliva soaked you, there was no resistance.

You cried so loudly into his kiss at the burn. One single push inside you and you could truly feel how long he was and how almost too thick his cock was to handle, how stretched you open for him. You shook in his arms but Jon never wavered in holding you. Letting himself slide as deep as he could inside of you without pause.

He wasn’t fast and impatient, instead keeping you so close to him as he pulled his cock slowly out of you to the tip before slowly once more sliding right back as deep as possible. Your head slammed against the wall behind you as you whined and Jon’s face fell into your neck as you felt him bearing his teeth in deep pants of his own.

His cock was slow as he slid it in and out of you, but just enough to have you feel delirious should he let you go now. Even in this cold, sweat begun to run lightly across both your bodies as he pulled his face up to look into yours.

His eyes black and lips swollen and parted before a particularly deep thrust had his eyes shut and teeth grit together in a hiss. You couldn’t see, feel, or think of anything but Jon like he consumed every inch of your soul as he fucked you.

Just as before, it started out of nowhere but this time your walls soaked his cock, clenching so tight around him Jon’s groans turned to deep growls as he had to fuck up into you harder to slide his cock as deep as he could everytime. Your foreheads pressed together as tears fell freely from your eyes and you could barley breathe but he kissed you everytime you were sure you could handle his fucking and stole you right back to being so out of breathe you held him tighter as the dizziness set in.

Sliding so smoothly in and out of you with such slow and deep strokes against a sensitive wall inside you, Jon’s breathing begun to stutter himself before kissing you again and licking inside your mouth just as his tongue did inside of you and in the same slow overtaking lack of mercy which your orgasm snapped, burning as it spiralled in from his touch.

You grasped onto him so tightly as you tried to cry into his mouth but he stole every breathe and word as he kissed and fucked you slowly through it. His cock pushing up into you with slightly harder thrusts until he pressed against you so tightly you felt only his lips, cock and his chest and none of the world existed beyond that.

Jon shook in your touch, his cock throbbing deep inside you before holding your lips to his with a hand at the back of your head. His cum was warm, unusually warm. One arm still holding you up, as he had you pressed tightly against the wall, Jon forced the leg he held onto, to widen as much as he could make you, as his cock spilled inside you. His cum was also thick, you could feel it was so thick that it matched the almost painful way his cock so largely filled you. But it was a lot, enough of him filled you that it tried to slip down your legs but he stretched so tightly it could only stay deep inside you.

As he slowly fucked the rest of his seed into you, you could feel he was still hard. In an instant your world spun, as he turned you around and pressed you hard into the cold ground. Your legs still spread wide as he pushed them far as they could go, and he looked over you with a need in his eyes as you had in yours. The greyness almost glistening as his chest heaved, your eyes looking over the stab wounds as his found the deep scar on you.

You had seen most of him before, but not like this. His cock was long, and like his seed, he was thick enough it intimidated you even now and making you shudder, clenching around nothing, the sight of it soaked from you and tinted white from his own cum still inside you. Jon gripped his thick base and pushed himself back as deep as he could inside of you. The mix of his cum and yours making the sound almost shameful at how wet it was.

Your muscles all tensed at the large push inside you, his cock running firmly along your sensitive walls as you cried out. Jon’s eyes flew down to where you were joined, watching him slide deep inside of you before his hand rose, pressing against the scar and pushing down firmly that made you jump with a spark of wild desire before slipping to hold your hip.

His other hand tightly gripping your hair before moving to lean down and kiss you once more as this time, he fucked you a little faster, but with much harder thrusts. The force used made his skin slap loudly against yours and you gripped his hair tightly while against his lips.

He pulled away, almost lovingly raking through the back of your hair as his own dark curls brushed against your skin, your jaw and neck was red from how much his facial hair scratched raw against your skin just as it burned still between your legs.

Jon hovered over your lips, his cock never stopped his pace as he fucked into you rough and just less then fast enough that it made you clench so tightly around him he needed to pound harder just to stay so deep inside. His voice rough, and his northern accent so thick it slurred. “You’re so beautiful,”

You gasped as he was pulling you to another orgasm, this time it would be much more powerful as you felt his cock so deep and the sound of his skin against yours with a rough slap each time but soaking wet to the obscene. You pressed your forehead against his as you lost everything that wasn’t his touch, his voice, anything that wasn’t Jon fell away.

Voice wavering as tears fell freely from the mix of pleasure so overwhelming that his cock almost made your cunt burn in pain but you craved every second. “I missed you, gods, Jon I’m sorry I-”

His lips shushing you between more gentle kisses that did not match his cock’s pounding, how tightly his one hand gripped your hip to force you to take his rough pace. “Shh, shh, I’ve got you, darling, I know. I missed you so much,”

Jon could feel the pressure around his cock growing and he knew you were losing it, shifting you to hold your head into his neck as he buried his face into your hair as he fucked you a little faster with every passing second. Low murmurs into your ear of how he missed you, how he was the sorry one, how beautiful you felt and just as you clenched tightly around him you arched up with a true sob.

Something inside you burst around his cock and you knew you were truly soaking him but it felt as if you were underwater and nothing around in the water did anything but drown you in a pleasure that burned in agony through it’s orgasm.

Your nails with a mind of their own in desperation, clawed down his back as he groaned into you. His cock thrusting shallow but deep as he left the rough pace and shamelessly sped towards filling you once more. A trail of two sets of nails raked across his back bright and red but you were covered in bruises that fit his hand and mouth perfectly as he pushed back your soaking orgasm to his.

Jon came much more that time, spilling inside you deep and the slick wetness around his cock and filling you with his warm, thick seed as his hips never stopped until there was nothing left. For a moment, you both held the other, panting with something close to tears even in his own eyes but you were too far gone to comprehend.

Pulling out of you, you whined against Jon but he kissed you gently. Turning you slowly to press your back against his chest as you tumbled into him. His arms tight around you as you muttered distressingly, “I can’t, I’ll wake up and you won’t..” But while your eyes shut and voice mumbled, Jon nuzzled the back of your head.

“Sleep, darling. I’ll be here, I promise.”

Something in Jon’s mind almost worried this wasn’t real as much as you did while falling asleep finally, but he also knew something more. He knew he had watched you through Ghosts eyes, lived as the very direwolf that sat in the corner almost keeping guard of you two. If he knew that was real, then Jon could finally let himself actually sleep for once assuring this was real too.

He could feel the heart beneath his wounded chest slow against your back and he felt the deep scar across your stomach as he too finally fell asleep. Something inside him was feeling like yours, something that looked to the other and felt consumed by their presence.

Something about finding you again, that had Jon feel like a true wolf. Risking going rabid and crazed if he let you slip from him this time. When his eyes slid open to the room, with Ghost at his side as he finally felt his mind properly settle, suddenly all he could think of was finding you. Desperately sending his companion out to bring you here as he felt like a mad man at finding himself truly back in his own once murdered body.

But then you walked in, and that wolf snapped. If direwolves mated for life, Jon couldn’t really know, but he did know as he fell asleep finally, that this wolf certainly did. Ramsay Bolton’s manic letter had accused Jon of stealing you, “Give me my bride back.” It had said.

You weren't his bride, you weren’t Ramsay’s and you never would be. As soon as Jon woke back up in his true body, something inside him couldn’t stop the nagging question. Why did it feel like you were the one who brought him back? Why was he consumed in his new life with you, but he also wondered if you somehow were feeling the same.

Eventually, you both would have to face everyone. Walk up those steps and they would see the impossible before them. The time could come where those remaining would see the remains of a murder walking on two feet, those who watched the crime and those who mourned but none expected Jon the way he was now.

But right now, you both struggled to bring yourselves to walk into that realization. Partially dressed, Jon’s back was leaned against the wall as he kept you perched in his lap. Neither with a shirt on as both of you ran your hands over the scars of the other. Both trying to find an explanation in the other but Jon was persistent. “No one survives something like this.” You tried to argue but your name slipped firmly from Jon’s mouth as his eyes narrowed up at you on his lap. “I saw it, I saw you. You were dead.”

It made sense in your heart but not your mind. “That isn’t...it’s not possible-”

His touch was soft as his hands shifted to your waist, yours gently resting on his shoulders while he leaned his head back onto the stone to look up. “It’s not possible to survive these either.” Nodding down to his chest, your eyes narrowed with your face twisting harshly as you ran your palm flat against them. They felt like yours. Not quite healed, but not scarred either. Like they just existed without being part of your living body. The wounds like they were dead but everything around it alive underneath.

Jon watched you for a moment, his voice low as he spoke again. “Maybe these dreams, these visions I’ve been having. Maybe they were trying to tell me to find you, protect you before..” You both swallowed. You couldn’t talk about that now, neither knew when you should. You watched his eyes soften as you ran a hand gently over his jaw, the coarse facial hair scratching your skin before they moved to gently run along the length of his curls. “Whatever brought me back, we might need to consider it that it brought you back too.”

You bit your tongue as the nerves rose but instantly Jon leaned up, pulling you to press his lips to yours gently, trying to soothe those nerves instead of letting them fester. He still knew you far too well. You swallowed harshly as your mind ran too fast in too many directions, “So, the gods what? Keep me alive just so I could come here? See you dead just long enough to think I’ve lost everyone?”

He hummed, unable to stop his hands from running along your skin as long as he was this close. In truth neither of you understood enough to say what this was. All was known that Jon felt a bit different in this new life. Like something more dark and possessive lived inside of him and he was consumed with you until he had you in his arms. He felt as if he was going to lose his mind in the time between sending Ghost to find you and seeing you step into that cell.

Even now, he took you twice in the early seconds he woke up. Your breasts currently littered in marks from his teeth and bruises from his mouth, he had yanked you up onto his lap as he desperately bounced you rough on his cock, him sitting up and burying his face into your chest smothering the growls in him. Barley awake compared to him, you were at his mercy, his cock fucking up into you as hard as Jon’s grip on your hips moving you himself to fuck you down onto him, letting him take you in whatever demand he wanted. Pushing past both your first orgasms without ever stopping to let you come down.

He was a man possessed, something terribly animalistic in his heart as he felt a screaming, dark desire to spill deep inside you, to fill you up again as soon as he did the first time. You, yourself had felt as if you were burning up on the inside until he was inside you again. Like something was deeply tethering you to him.

The feelings were calm, much calmer now but there remained something between you that was difficult to explain. Like in your new life, you only found purpose after seeing the other again but for Jon it just took far less time and torture to get there. You knew he was angry, wanting to demand everything that happened to you, but it wasn’t the time for it.

His own clothes back on, Jon was before you helping put your own shirt back on neatly as he tilted your chin up to look at him. Gods help him Jon was about two seconds away from just pushing you back onto the ground and taking you all over again, but the dark look in your eyes was focused on something else as you pulled away, reaching down to hand him Longclaw.

Both of you held onto it for a second as he watched you closely, “Out of all the ways for things to end between me and him, it’s hard to believe it was you of all people who did it.” Your eyes wide as they looked at Jon asking how he knew but Ghost had walked over to nudge at Jon. Smiling at him while strapping it back around his person, “I could see things through Ghost...or was controlling him. It’s hard to explain but it was like as soon as I died I could see and move through him.”

A whine coming from Ghost had him kneel down, running a hand along his fur as the two looked at one another. You were to afraid to bring it up yet, like saying his name would destroy whatever had been created in this little, dark room together but you think you understood it. You had watched a strange almost abnormal ability to control a direwolf before.

“Wish I could say I’m glad he’s gone but at least that part of my humanity came back with me.” He knew about Ser Alliser Thorne, he knew it wasn’t vengeance but justice you were seeking for him. “If yesterday didn’t scare the others into making up themselves for what they’ve done-”

“Then seeing you now sure will.” Looking up to you with a more serious look, Jon stood back up and pulled you into his arms for a moment. Only for a moment, as quite quickly, you both were nudged in the legs by Ghost, causing you both to turn to him with a laugh. “At least one thing does make sense to me. If you were somehow living inside Ghost, it would explain why he was so..intense and aggressive yesterday but far more of a large pup now that I remember”

Jon held you one hand gently at your jaw, the other your waist as he looked back to you, waiting for you to meet his eyes before you both felt the air turn much more heavy and tense. “You told them today is a fresh start.” You nodded slowly, a hope that it didn’t make him mad but his expression never changed. “Why?”

Your hands struggled to land on him, much like that night in Winterfell like despite the closeness seconds before you were now afraid to touch him. “Everything they said, about the North, about the Others. I spent over four years with a war and it’s aftermath having dreams and visions of what was happening but I didn’t understand any of it. But...now I do, and I think even the men who betrayed you need a chance to realize that was well.”

Jon watched you closely, his voice low but assuring. “Then we give them that chance.” Almost leaving for a second, Jon hesitated before pulling you back with a gentle call of your name, “Theon...”

You shook your head firmly, a stern look with no room for question. “He’s paid for what he did. He’s paid the cost and then far more then what he deserved. And he’s the only reason I made it out of Winterfell alive. He’s with me and right now I would leave it at that.”

The relief in you as Jon never doubted your word, giving a nod. “I won’t pressure you, but eventually I am going to need you to tell me what happened. What he did to you.” He, you both knew, meant Ramsay. “Not right now, but we can’t avoid him forever and I need to hear what he did from your mouth, because if I have to hear it from his, I may not end up letting him even finish a sentence.” His hands tightened on you, before you finally reached up to run along where his scars behind the black shirt sat under.

He would. You knew it. Ramsay loved to use information as torment in and of itself, and that letter...either Jon finds Ramsay first or he brings himself and the rest of the Boltons men here. But he’ll mock him with every torture his words can summon, it was just his cruel nature at work.

Was it fair to assume the worst? Some considered it so. You had followed Ghost to the Ice Cells in the dead of night and quite some time had passed and none had seen you. They all knew what was down there by now, and all of them feared what the worst might mean.

Ser Davos Seaworth had shared a moment with the large wildling, Tormund. Discussing that they may need to begin forming plans for the worst, knowing now that there were bigger threats on the horizon and the remaining wildings and Night’s Watch could not just stand by and wait for whatever threat to attack from one side of the other.

Jon Snow’s last stand had been the choice to fight for not just the North he now guarded, but the North that was his home, the North that the woman he loved was trapped within. He had made it known he considered those beyond the wall to belong to the realms of men, and now he had remembered truly that his duty was to those south of it as well.

He had died for that conviction, and if that damned letter was right, without King Stannis Baratheon now they had to face the idea that you too might not come back alive from the cells if it had been this long. Tormund had said it was by nightfall most men turned to the blue eyes of the dead, and that the only things he’d ever seen kill them were fire, and that sword of Jon’s.

Some said you brought it with you, others weren’t sure. If not, and if you couldn’t grab a torch in time, they were going to have to find a way to continue this on their own and they didn’t like their chances.

Only, they didn’t have too.

The large pure white direwolf emerged first. Thick metal doors opening as he walked out onto the yard first, and caught many eyes. But, what followed Ghost was enough that every person in Castle Black stopped and watched. You were still you, but you also walked beside a figure that they had seen dead the day before.

He looked exactly as he did before, scars still on his face red from their freshness, Longclaw strapped to his side as it truly belonged, and even more striking, eyes just as grey as they were before that night. No blue, no sigh of death, no fear from you except the dark looks on both your expressions as the men all gathered close.

Whispers begun right away. The North’s previously thought dead Queen, had disappeared in the dark of night and reemerged hours later with the once dead Jon Snow alive by her side. Davos had seen the body himself, but there was no sigh of the dead to fear in the man. Just the man himself, and you.

You were in rough shape the morning the Greyjoy had brought you here, but you were darker, angrier, and missing part of the life he knew in you as a girl that he wondered would ever come back. You refused to speak on what happened at The Twins, refused to speak on the whispers of you being dead and only said “As you can see, I certainly am alive right now.”

But he saw Jon Snow dead, and the ones who hadn’t, either murdered him, watched him be murdered or had the trusting word of his closest companions and the woman he died for. But here he was, speaking to his men as much of a leader as he saw before.

Davos tried not to look to where he knew the red woman to be. He had no idea what you could have done to bring this man back, but knew he did not want her of all people having any place in what was to come. In any of it. But as Jon stood on even ground as his own men, you stood beside him as your eyes blazed in a mistrusting rage towards the same woman Davos was ignoring.

Edd and Tormund both walked closer to the pair, sharing looks of bewilderment at the other. Both had seen things they never in a lifetime thought would be true, but this was something else. This was a dead man standing before them but not in the same horror’s Tormund and Jon himself had witnessed at Hardhome.

He had found a lot to admire over the past few years of the crow, and over the past few months in particular stood out. Never would’ve thought possible, but somehow he both admired the man more after watching him lead the crows to defeat the free folk. Somehow found himself being the man doing the growing and changing afterwards.

He had heard him talk about you once they finally found common ground that day in his office. To Tormund, it seemed a bit stupid. You were in love with the girl first, you snuck around for six years with her and then you let your fathers make her marry your brother and you go off and vow yourself to the crows instead of fighting for her. He could not understand either of you, but now looking at the two of you he knew no other explanation then somehow you found a way to bring him back from the dead.

That is some power between you two only gods are supposed to have, if you asked him.

As he spoke, the same deep rasping voice came out, but a tinge rougher with more of an anger behind the words. A darker tint floated around Jon Snow, and it would never quite go away, but no question, those who knew you before could also could see it in yourself as well.

“Most of you should know, two night’s ago twelve of our own took it upon themselves to betray a brother. Lured me out alone, cornered me, and stabbed me in the chest and heart. Then threw me into an ice cell thinking they could get away with it if they hide the evidence.”

A glance up from where you stood beside him, you could see Olly pale and full of a shocked kind of fear in his eyes. A look that was shared by a number of others who had seen it themselves first hand. The boy had your word, but the same would not be found for others.

“Nine of you came forward yourselves, admitted your part. Except three.” Drawing attention to you, the way the eyes watched you both was far easier then yesterday doing it on your own. “Ser Alliser Thorne planned and carried out my own murder, and then paid the price for his crimes, but two of you didn’t. Two men who once stood by my side as Lord Commander.”

The yard quiet as this time, you had already named them front of everyone the day before but still, they found no courage to step forward until this time, the one who named them was the brother they killed.

“Othell Yarwyck, Bowen Marsh.”

There was quiet until a path begun to turn, men shifting in place to draw all attention on the two older men so white they just may have passed out if not for the bitter cold keeping them alert. There was no need for yesterday’s demands, and this time, it was Jon who saw men that once voted against him force the two to come to his feet. Shoved onto the ground as they looked up at him.

You promised a fresh start, but for those who confessed before you did it for them. You executed the man who did this to him, but Jon knew better then anyone both of them had shoved their knifes into his chest and watched him bleed out. And never had the courage to speak up when confronted.

Jon would stand by your decision for the others, but you would stand by his decision for the two of them. “This fight is bigger then us, bigger then our disagreements, bigger then our vows. I’m not leading these men to fight for nothing but the wall.” His face twisted slightly, tone almost irritated that some of them hadn’t understood the grander image yet. “I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that there’s no room in our vows that means protecting the North, the whole North, or the people we love in it.”

The men found nothing in glancing at you. It wasn’t you they betrayed, and it wasn’t them they were to answer too. Their eyes tearing up to Jon’s in hesitancy, neither finding the bravery to speak. Voices that did speak up were men scattered in the crowd, perking up from different points and picking up in fervour. Words of “murderers”, “dirty traitors” all the way up to “hang them” as still the men found no courage to truly face the man they ended.

It was Edd who stepped forward enough to capture attention, something barley held back in his expression of awe and relief. “What is to be done with them, Lord Commander?” A point in his voice, make sure any possible descender know, he is still in charge, he is still the leader they chose.

Stepping closer to them, Jon’s eyes narrowed sharply as he found more anger in his disgust at their cowardice. His head nodded back to your distant stillness, “She was kind enough to show you mercy.” His grey eyes bordering on a black as his tone lowered to something rough that made them shiver. “But I’m not. You have until sundown to make peace with yourselves.”

Multiple men stepped forward, dragging the remaining two men to be tossed away. For a moment, there was a tense quiet as they all looked to their somehow undead leader, and bless Edd for stepping forward first to break such still heavy air.

The two friends hugged, and the gates opened to the rest of them approaching their brother, and the scattered wildlings joining too.

You could recall the day you left Winterfell. Hearing behind where you stood Jon and Robb saying their goodbyes and how wrong it felt to accidentally intrude on it, the same felt deep in you now. Stepping back slowly as men all approached Jon before something in the pit of your stomach needed to walk away entirely. These were his people, not yours. You still didn’t belong here.

You weren’t quite sure where you were even headed at all until reaching far into part of a dining hall, dim and empty as the mass of men were outside. You could feel your heart pounding but nothing to explain why or even the senses to tell yourself to breathe. It was as if the world was dizzy and your chest ready to burst open as your palms braced on a counter. Your eyes shut as you leaned over hearing the blood rushing in your ears.

It all felt too much all in one instance. The strings, the blood, the warm blue eyes turning to terrifying pale ones, all swirling into bodies and fire and her and him and all of them as the night before screamed in your head and deafening you until a gentle hand found it’s way to your upper arm.

Flipping around with a desperate gasp of air you found Theon flinched back slightly, for only a second did you try and tell him not to sneak up on you but you only felt the world fade and twist in colour before slinking to the ground. Your back pressed against the counter as Theon slowly knelt in front of you. “What can I do?” His voice quiet but a concerned plead as you felt like the world spun in your mind.

You shook your head almost choking on the words of not knowing, eyes stinging with water trapped behind them until an old trick came to Theon’s mind. Stepping away from you you heard thuds and shuffling but you could only hear a mixture of voices. Voices of Jon, of Robb, of Shireen, of your father and the mocking words of Melisendre that day in the Westlands.

Heart stopping yet racing all at once until Theon returned with a large mug shoving it into your hand and just moving you to drink. “Come on, all of it, let’s go.” Ale rich and bitter but you let it sink down as you slammed it on the ground before letting your head fall against the wood. The world still spinning as your eyes remained closed but it all eased up as Theon spoke. “You alright?”

Taking a deep breathe before nodding, you moved your feet to sit flat on the floor knees closer to your chest as your head dropped into your folding arms. You felt Theon shift to sit next to you, it was never often him all those years ago that would see spirals of panic this way but he’d seen them once or twice enough to recall what they looked like. And the memory of having you down something alcoholic to simmer it out or maybe just to distract you for a moment still worked luckily.

Voices spoke muffled in the distant outdoors before you finally felt your heart grant your feet back on the earth and mind lifting such haze. Your arms remained folded against your knees but you raised back up as he could see you wipe back whatever tears fell with the back of your hand, frustrated furrow of your brows that they even fell in the first place.

He leaned over quietly, as if hiding with a whisper in the empty room of your name, dropping any formalities or titles in the moment, knowing right now you just needed a friend. “What the hell happened?”

You looked forward at a spot on the floor, a shrug in your shoulders with a weak voice. “I don’t know, I have no idea what I had done. He was dead one moment and alive the next. I...” You didn’t know how to say it, you didn’t want to even think of that night not the blood not the fire or the strings or the chanting but something about last night felt true as you spoke. Voice meek like a confused child, “I don’t think he’s the only one.”

Theon’s brows furrowed, but you couldn’t look at him as you spoke. “Something’s been so wrong with me since that night, something inside me felt so twisted and missing like I never really survived. As if I’ve been walking around barley alive until last night, and now it’s all right here and it’s too much at once but...” Finally, you looked at him.

A far away concern in his eyes that you knew wasn’t judgment, but just not understanding. You didn’t expect him too, you think only person in the realm will understand it now. “I died that night, Theon. I know I did, I felt it...I died beside him. But it never felt like I woke up until..”

“Until he did?” His head gesturing outside vaugley as you nodded. “Could be why you came back. You couldn’t stay dead because you needed to be here to bring him back.”

You shook your head, letting it thud back behind you once more. “Given this a lot of thought, Greyjoy?”

The smile wasn’t really genuine, but the light tone in your voice that accompanied it gave a little perk to him, as if for a second it was just the two of you years ago. Teenagers in Winterfell that snuck into the kitchens to have a drink way passed when anyone was supposed to be awake. “One of us should.”

He nudged your arm, you nudged his back. The panic and tears were still staining your face and soul but in the quiet it was a tad easier to swallow down. “What is it the Drowned God speaks of? What is dead may never die?” You looked at him with an unconvincing half smile. “What does he say about those who bring a man back to life?”

Reaching beside him, he dragged a mug of ale back over to you with a second for him. Nudging you to take a sip. “Nothing. Think it might just be you two.” For a moment it was quiet before he asked “Do you think he’s lying about your father? Ramsay?”

Biting you lip harshly before you took another sip, “I couldn’t say. He’s a commander, an excellent one. But I’ve seen more then enough commanders take knives to their hearts to feel any kind of optimistic about it anymore.” The ale was bitter, but Theon was right, it helped bring you down a little bit even if it was the sake of distracting your mind. “If he isn’t, he died thinking I hated him. If he is, then he will hate me anyways.” His eyes narrowed in confusion as your heart felt heavy. “The wrong daughter came back.”

A fleeting wish in Theon that maybe those thoughts had found their way out of your mind, but in the quiet of the room you still voiced the same. His head dropped, face twisting downward. “You’re still his kid. No parent wants to outlive their kids.”

In the quiet of the room, your head tilted slightly to the side, almost resting on him if only just a few inches closer. “What about you? You’re here when you could be making your way back to Pyke instead of being with me still. Your father would want to know you made it out of Winterfell alive.”

His heart in that moment felt far away, much like your own. “My real father lost his head in King’s Landing.”

Little seemed to change, the outside was different, the people not as cruel and the circumstances to get here were something of chaos, but in here it was the same as back there. You and Theon still held this strange dynamic, a bond that was rooted in feeling out of place in the world amongst your own people and your own blood. Your voice was just as quiet. “Some days I wonder if mine did too.”

You had to guess where he may be, though logic ended up telling you to search your quarters. A strange place to look for him, if considering what his position really is here. Your fathers quarters just as cold and dim as the way you left it the night before. No sign of life beyond you and Theon as you walked in but your eyes remained sharp. You had a feeling he was in here, but you weren’t with such energy to hunt.

Coming around to the desk, you ran your hand over the leather of the grey overcoat hanging across it you barley paid attention to before. Grasping it gently in your hand as you pulled it up, you could see it on him. Not magnificent of a wardrobe, much of similar things but they all were very striking of your father’s appearance.

Looking up you caught Theon watching, both of you turning away in an instant. You swallowed as you nodded over to the table near the back. The things on there clearly that of a young girl, “Could you..”

You turned away as he walked over to take them out of your view. Eyes drifting to the window up to the clouds of the winter day as you tugged the leather over your person. Too large to do up, without swallowing you, you kept it open and at least felt the leather warm you the slightest bit more then the only soft material under it before.

The first of papers on one side containing raven scrolls large and small, papers with too many numbers and listing details to count. One in particular still catching your eye, words you read and reread far too often and yet even now you felt just as awful thinking of it’s contents as before. Fingers tracing over it’s edges before a shifting across the room and a startle from Theon had you stand up suddenly.

“Seven hells, what are you doing hiding in here?”

Stepping around, Theon looked startled but annoyed as he looked at the now exposed Olly hiding in a corner. His face pale and hands shaking that fear you saw in him yesterday at that very desk back with a much larger looming fear. “He was dead, I stabbed him I know he was dead.”

Your jaw set, tilting your head slightly to Theon to continue on you stepped towards the boy, a hand outstretched. Pushing him lightly forward from his back as you led him back to the main room. Away from where you couldn’t handle being around Shireen’s things. Sitting back at the desk, you leaned against it to face him.

“What did you do?”

Your face still and unblinking for a moment before you came to an honest answer. “Maybe I didn’t do anything. The gods may have just decided he wasn’t supposed to die and made it so.” Your brows narrowed as he looked distant in his gaze. “Olly-”

“He’s going to hang me too.” You sighed, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I put a knife in his heart, if he sees me, he’ll hang me.” Opening your eyes you shared a flicker of your eyes with Theon, almost as if asking each other if you thought it was a possibility. But you couldn’t, it seemed like a different person who would do such a thing.

Olly’s circumstances didn’t make what he did to Jon any more acceptable, but there were unavoidable truths in his age and what drove him here to take in account. Executing adults is part of being a just leader, but children was...

“Do you know where Riverrun is?” Both looked at you confused only getting an eyebrow raised back to him until Olly nodded yes. “Our army was garrisoned there near the end of the war. River Lords had attacked Lannister forces without our knowledge and they took two teenage boys hostages. Not much older then you.”

Theon didn’t know any of this either, leaning against the wall to watch as you yourself turned further away for a moment. “I spoke to them, gained their trust, gave them food and water. They were prisoners, but they were still boys who weren’t the ones responsible for the war. They were good kids, really. Then in the middle of the night, five of our own men dragged them from their cell and murdered them just for being kids of the enemy.”

You could see them, the way they were laid out in the hall that night and the tension so thick in that room that radiated fury. If you let yourself, you could still hear Robb yell that they were just boys.

“The King had four of them hanged, took the head of the one who planned it himself.” Crouching down to look at him closely you could still see how young he really was. “We executed five of our own men, and lost the support of one of our own bannermen’s houses as a result of that execution. And we did it because they were grown men who murdered two boys your age. We did it because they were under our protection and murdering them was treason.”

“Kill me and be cursed.”

Push the thought from your mind, push it all back. You couldn’t. Not now, maybe not ever. Exhaling deeply you leaned in more to make Olly meet your eyes. “Some might argue it’s justice the other way around. But I don’t see it that way. Sometimes...” Both men in the room watched you look over to Theon. “Sometimes what we think is justice leads to things which are far worse.”

He had many things to hate you for in your life after him, but you couldn’t imagine executing a thirteen year old boy would be something wherever he was, he would look at you any more favourably for. If indeed, there was anything left he’d be even remotely alright with. Not now, not after last night.

“But you are going to have to face him. You can’t avoid that, and you shouldn’t. The last thing you should do right now is hide from him. You came to me yesterday, told me the truth all of your own choice. Don’t make him have to come to you.”

So why were you up here hiding from Jon as well? After everything why was it you still felt that lingering dread that he wouldn’t want anything to do with you? Unable to tell if it was the worry of disappointing just one more person with who you’ve become, or the pit deep within you of guilt at how desperately attached you felt last night.

Leaning forward so his forearms rested against his knees he looked down before finding your eyes, a doubt of his own painted across. “Why are you helping me? After everything I did, you cut off Thorne’s head when he confessed.”

Circling around you placed yourself back behind your fathers desk, fingers tapping at the wood before settling. “I have a soft spot for giving those who have wronged the people I love, another chance at life, you could say.” Flickering slightly to the side, you didn’t properly look at Theon but you both could sense the other’s gaze. Two years ago you nor Robb wanted anything but bring him down from the North and take his head but now you wouldn’t want the man going anywhere else.

Pausing you leaned forward, hands clasped together. “I betrayed my own father.” Olly’s eyes rising to you in confusion, you nodded to the desk. “Stannis Baratheon was my father, I was his eldest daughter and he raised me to be his heir. Gave me a proper education, let me spend many years in Winterfell and Kings Landing to learn as he was, and then the Lannisters took Ned Stark’s head.”

This time you purposely didn’t look at Theon, you never spoke of it, but the day you all found out you had visited Theon in his tent. Things everywhere were thrown around and a few bottles were smashed on the ground. Nothing truly had been right since that day.

“Everyone expected me to go to his side. Join my father, the rightful King and fight for his claim, but instead I sided with Robb Stark. I sided with the man I married and when they declared him King in the North my own father declared me a traitor.” His eyes dropped a bit, Olly being from the North himself had long heard of the two of you. “I cannot deny what I did, I was a traitor to him. What I am saying is, we all do bad things. We all do things many consider horrible or monstrous, but it’s what pushes us to those circumstances that matters when facing judgment.”

A knock at the door had all three of you raising your heads up, Olly looking from the door to you with a barley concealed panic as Theon went to open it. First only Ser Davos walking in causing no alarm until it was the one who came behind him that made two hearts jump for very different reasons. Having changed into something without the traces of his own blood, and black fur around his shoulders that made him look large and imposing.

Instantly you gestured for Olly to come around the desk to stand behind you, doing so with a jump as you could see him try to remain steady. His grey eyes unblinking as he moved to stand beside Ser Davos on the shame filled yet terrified ones of the boy.

Jon wouldn’t go against your choice, he understood it likely better then you. He knew what Olly had come from, and he knew too well that putting his anger on the boy would be misplacing the ones who knew what they were really agreeing too. He could still recall having that final knife shoved into his heart, but he also could see the confused, angry pain in the tears in the boys as he did so.

As you sat there, it was an odd feeling for him. He once could recognize Stannis Baratheon without ever being introduced his name because of how much he could see you in the man. Now though, it was as if he could see Stannis in you as if he didn’t know you first. You had left in the noise earlier and now looked at him with something very held up, very guarded in your eyes that he didn’t like.

Something about his connection with Ghost had him once wondering if this strange phenomena was what being a warg was, and then his spent over a day in his direwolf’s body and consciousness when he finally found you again. Too much of the day now he had been torn between the nature of his new life, and how something deep within him knew it was through you that he could stand here now. The other was burning and obsessive being able to touch you in ways he for too long thought was a dead gone dream.

But then you sat there, looking at him like you weren’t sure if you wanted to be here trying to put that wall up he knew came from Stannis himself. Only his wasn’t a wall, just his nature and with you it was hiding you away from everyone else. Jon wondered, did you realize how well he still knew you, did you even know yourself anymore. His voice was rough and low as he spoke, “It’s time.”

He didn’t need to ask he knew you would join no matter what you were trying to ignore. You glanced to Theon, indicating something with a more narrowed glance before the man left with the quickly joining him out the door with Olly as Ser Davos followed in a thoughtful silence, the sounds of distant shouting and footsteps heard in the distance. Looking at each other for a moment, Jon turned and closed it completely shutting the world out. Gloved hand still on the wood as he faced away from you, his eyes shut as he inhale deeply.

“They all think you had something to do with bringing me back. And I don’t think they’re wrong.”

Turning back to you, your eyes were set to the floor with something that he could feel the sting sitting just behind them. Only a mutter left in it, “I can feel it. As if it’s screaming at me like I’ve found any kind of a purpose, for the first time since...” Your words died right in your mouth and it only left you more uncomfortable as you sat there.

Everytime Jon had to share you with the world, it made things between you that much more difficult to overcome. Only now, the weight of so much in this world bared down on both of you and only brought you together after forcing you to lose everything. Jon hoped Robb could somehow see how much he meant to you, hoped that he didn’t hate him for always holding part of your heart.

But he had it for so long, so far away from you, that it was possible to Jon that you forgot what letting it share between you both felt like. “I know it would have been different for you, I don’t know how long you were..”

The shatter in your tone made him want to go to you, but the stillness and harshness in your distant unfocused eyes had him stay. You’d just flinch back from him at that moment if he tried. “It was the same night...” You sighed, running a hand over your forehead before resting them both on the desk, hands clasped against your lips. “It could have been minutes, or hours, but it was long enough to throw me in a cage and for them to...”

Whatever was on your lips next left with something that swam over your eyes like it was about to make you sick, and Jon felt a similar sinking feeling that it was about Robb. That the details you were forcing back down your throat would only serve to hurt him as well.

He could see you bite your tongue even from where was before you. Your name falling so gently from his lips before you stood abruptly. Making your way towards the door and breaking the quiet tension between you both as the cold air rushed in. “We shouldn’t keep your men waiting.”

That damned letter was on the desk in the seconds he was left alone in the room. The letter that started all of this, and the one that woke him from a slumber of refusing to involve himself with the realm. He didn’t read it as he gently picked it up, but he certainly took it with him. As he descended upon the awaiting crowd. You now standing grim and tall much like your father by the platform, standing by his choice no matter what you would’ve done or not done the day before.

Only hours ago Jon had you in ways he never thought would be blessed to him, and yet now you looked at him like you would shatter if he ever got that close again. He couldn’t let you walk away, like being too far from you even sent his head spiralling and an aggression in his chest rose. A barley contained growl within as if he was an animal watching his mate in pain.

Jon felt consumed with something darker in this new life and yet surrounding all of it was a burning possessiveness to keep you close. Jon just didn’t know how to quell that great strengthening desire in him, nor did he know how to keep you by his side without chasing you off. Just his gaze on you was enough to startle you out of the room like a frightened deer. But he could feel it in his heart, he sensed it that night.

The pull to find his body once more as if he could feel his mind being pushed back to where it belonged and all he could think or feel as it happened was you. And then his eyes opened once more in his own body with Ghost at his side and he knew it was you his heart was once more beating for. Beating because of.

But Jon also had no idea what you had truly been through, the extent of the night Robb died and what led you into the captors of the Boltons escaping with barley your sanity. Perhaps you just needed time, but Jon needed you. The darkness was coming to devour them all, a night that never ends and Jon had seen first hand the death which would follow if no one did anything about it.

It was on his shoulders now, but Jon couldn’t do it without you. He didn’t want to either.

Draped in blacks and furs, scar over the skin right beside his eye still red and imposing as the snowflakes fell across the wildness of his curls. Jon stood tall as he faced the two men who had yet to find any redemption or remorse. They had watched what you did to the man responsible, and now Jon would finish what you started.

His eyes dark as he looked up, their hands tied together and noose around their necks with looks of contempt from all three men standing there. Jon’s a seething and quiet outrage as Yarwyck spit, “You shouldn’t be alive, it isn’t right.”

You stood only a few feet beside Jon, his voice rasping deep as he didn’t turn away from them. “Neither was killing me.” Eyes flashing to down in that cell, the first time you pulled the edges of his shirt to the side to trace over the wounds deep in him and how they later felt flat against your palms as he knelt over you.

Bowen Marsh was pleading with more regret but no apology. “Would you let my mother know, she still lives in White Harbour. Tell her I died fighting the wildlings.” It wasn’t her Jon had issue with, and it was his duty to listen to the mens final words and requests. He gave a nod in agreement to his request, and their fate was sealed.

He let them go loose, and it took minutes for the sounds to stop. Jon had told them he wouldn’t give them a death as merciful as you had to Ser Alliser, and yet he felt little guilt. Looking to you, it was hard to tell if there was regret or shame in your own eyes.

A power of the gods had told them that Jon Snow should not be dead, and it was through you they chose to do so. You could argue against the idea, but you both felt that deep pull. Loving one another was just part of who you were for so long, but this wasn’t just that. This was something darker, something more desperate and protective that Jon knew would be impossible to keep away from this time around.

You could feel her eyes on you, watching with a shocked curiosity that you knew would lead to answers you already dreaded. You knew what you had done, what you had felt and what was said about such powers in her god. Her intentions for one man, but it flowed through you to bring back another.

Men all around this camp wanted to speak to you, had things to address and questions which needed answering but none of them were what you could handle. Not today, maybe not tomorrow or ever by this state of your mind. Not until one final thing was done.

When none had seen you part, none followed, she finally did.

A small fire finding itself lit as the remains of the hanged burned before the brother, the leader they betrayed and the men who now remained which stood with him. A few stragglers remained about, and it was them who helped you up.

The steps towards the lift were sturdy but you felt even there the cold wind of night increasing over your face. The long leather across your back and arms at least sheltered the warm better then everything else on you. Closing the gate behind you, you leaned against the back with your hands braced against the wood as you looked to the rising view of Castle Black.

The darkness of the North you knew in front rose up and the fires lighting below dimmed. Enough of the days clouds had scattered as the moon shined bright, but the crackling and gears turning around you were loud. The floor not shaking, but uneasy under your feet as you raised higher then most had ever been before leaning your head back eyes slipping shut to await the stop.

You knew in the morning, Ser Davos would seek you out and speak the words you wished you could throw into the mud. Where your place was now you did not know, but you did know it wasn’t that and it never would be. Your father did not come all the way to the Wall thinking it would help the Iron Throne and if he truly died in attempts to reclaim land from the Boltons that was not for anything but the North either.

A North that he turned away to your face and not. A North all his side called you a traitor for siding with, you had no place in his plans then and you could not see taking up them in his memory as right or fair. A new purpose needed to be carved before the swirling agony of panic inside you had you leap from these heights. This was far taller then the stone walls of Winterfell. This jump would certainly kill you.

The tops of the wall were higher then most, only opening up in carved spots to look out too as braziers laid about that had the stragglers within. Some men only watched you with a silent fear as you passed, others with a nervous mutter of a title you had not heard in a long time. Coming around the corner was an empty opening, but high enough the sky lit the trees below.

The wind was utterly freezing as it blew the edges of your coat and the strands of your hair around behind you. Your eyes widened a bit and the cold stung them, but the sight was as magnificent as it was invoking of terrifying. You had been out there, just barley and yet with no idea this was truly what lay beyond.

Only, the cold grew within your bones and for just a moment the dark of the night enveloped you with blues and cries of an infant in dreams long passed. Images of this sight but in the daytime flashed through your eyes and pretty red hair flashed through your mind and instantly you closed your eyes to push them out.

For too long you had been nothing but a problem in his life, something keeping him down and even now your very name in Ramsay’s hand caused his death. Even in his new life you had no idea if you belonged in it or if he wanted you in it. In the throes of the night it wasn’t even a thought that was all just a passing passion but now in the quiet and the freezing high dark you could hear him.

Hear how much he wanted to break you case any others wanted to play with his new toy. The vile spitting in your ear of mocking that ruined the memories of the only man who before then had taken you like that. Ramsay ruined all of it and you felt like a stupid child for thinking the kind of man Jon had become would care at all to take on your pain as his burden anymore.

If your true purpose in such a new life was just to be there to bring him back then you fulfilled that and should leave the realms to those who still deserved to fight for it. You felt her before you saw her, something that creeped up your spine and wrapped their tendrils around your neck speaking whispers of fire into them.

Not dressed much better then you, Melisendre stood beside you looking out to the far North with something less knowing on her face. A quieter shock that permeated her person and a tone quieter then such certainly held the night before. “The Lord of Light works through you, your grace. A power that should not belong to any. I merely speak to the Lord and he answers with his own power if he sees fit, and I do with offerings and practices he desires and yet it was you who he chose the one to bring back.”

Your eyes glared to her before returning back to the windy darkness. “What do you know about it?”

“Many have seen the wounds on your person, and none of them think you should have survived it. But I know you didn’t, your sights in the flames was death but here you stand.” Neither noticed the figure leaned against the cold walls of ice some feet away with keen ears. “The Lord brought you back himself, so you could be the one to bring another back.”

Your tone was low and filled with much ire, “And yet I didn’t have to burn any alive to accomplish it. What does that say about this god of yours.” Melisendre watched you curiously, the sight of Jon Snow as alive as he was dead hours before was a shock. He was not the name in the visions and flames she sought to revive. No images of her King showed death but it was death spoken of him, offering the princess as a final sacrifice was needed.

Appearing, you had taken away that chance and the Lord would not consider burning her body the offering, but you had done it at your own hand and that was the blood he decided would bring this man back. He accepted your offer, not any else and she could not help but consider that only someone of once death could bring back another in such a way.

“I think it means the Lord intends to keep you alive, that the flames showed me the truth. The King will return to us, because you have returned to him, the wolf at your side.”

For all her calm, she didn’t expect the move and you didn’t quite either. In a second, you had the woman pinned roughly to the wall with a small but sharp blade pressed to her stomach. Just barley scraping the fabric as you leaned into her with fury in your eyes. “Don’t speak to me about what your Lord intends. You looked me in the eyes, told me of a future with my husband that was ripped away from us by his own men.”

There was a hitch in her breathe, it seemed drastic pain sent more then just the King’s Baratheon into such a violent push. “I spoke the truth, it was not any fault of mine that he did not show me which wolf you would be at the side of. We do not choose our destiny.”

You pushed a little harder, blood rushing in your veins as your muscles screamed at you to act but you just stared at her with unmoving stillness. “Do not speak to me about my destiny, you have no right now or ever again to tell me what future you think I should follow. He was my husband, the only thing he fought for was his family and his people. You have no right to have any part in his memory. Or anyone else I love.”

Not easily persuaded by her words or allure, and Melisendre knew that too well as you dragged it a little down her stomach. “Do you feel where that blade is? Where it would go into you if I pushed a little further? That’s where Roose Bolton stabbed me, three times in this very spot. I bled out in minutes, having to watch him shove the same blade into Robb’s heart as we died beside each other.”

The figure just beyond felt that pain in his own heart, more ways then one but truly an unsettled feeling at how similar their ends were in wounds and betrayal. And how you were at the centre of both.

“I lost everything that night, and I have no idea where it is I belong in this life anymore. Maybe my destiny was to just be here and bring Jon back, but it cost me my life and my sister. Don’t you dare tell me that everything the North lost was just because you think I was with the wrong person at the wrong time. Don’t you dare tell me that.” You didn’t hide the tears, not as they ran down your cheeks and not in the anger they soaked your voice in.

The shaking in your hand from the burning in your nerves was too angry. You knew one more word from her and you would push this too far. Pulling back with a shaky inhale you ran a hand over your mouth before stepping away.

“You leave tonight.” Quiet and barley audible over the wind but she heard you and so did he. “You dragged my sister up onto a pyre and almost burned her alive for your god. If the only thing that brought Jon back was what I did then that is my weight to bare but you put her there. You put the King’s only living heir, the daughter he loved more then anything as a sacrifice to bring him back.”

Stepping in a way that you weren’t quite in sight before you turned back to her.

“You served my father well, but you will not serve me nor any in the North. You leave tonight, and if I ever see you in these lands again I will show you exactly how getting that scar felt. Only I don’t presume your god will see to keep you alive for it.”

Finding his grey eyes as you stepped out, you could see pain in his. You lost Robb but so did he, and he didn’t deserve to have you around to make that pain worse. You did enough damage to Jon Snow as it was. You said nothing as you walked away but he saw the desperate tears in your eyes as you saw them threatening to fall behind the anger in his.

Standing at the top of the landing, palms both leaned forward and braced on the wooden railing as she looked back to you for one last time. You knew all Melisendre found was contempt. She had tried to speak to him in your leave, but found nothing more of comfort.

“You put Shireen on that pyre, not her. Which means that little girl’s blood is on your hands. If I ever see you anywhere in the North, or anywhere near her ever again, I’ll hang you myself.”

You felt him beside you as she left. Both once dead, brought back for the other side by side as the moon fell high over the sky you thought for a moment, that it felt normal to be beside him like that. But just as the thought came to you, so did the guilt, so did the blood, and so did the twisting lies of Ramsay as he took you in ways now that only two men you ever loved had you.

And you felt sick. Jon was looking at you, but you both knew you were trying to not look back and you wished you never interfered in his life in the first place. Unable to shake the thought that Jon simply would been better off if you left him alone. He didn’t need you to bring him down just as he found true leadership for the only cause that mattered. Both of you could feel something rotting and dreadful inside of you that day you separated on the Kingsroad and only now did that feeling stop for good.

Somewhere in the dead of night, he wondered if it just might be the gods trying to tell you both, that you and Jon Snow hadn’t just wanted it, but that you had truly needed to be together. He couldn’t find reason to chalk up these dreams, these visions, and the way only you brought him back to all but coincidence.

He just needed to find a way to make you believe that. And more present and urgently, he needed to know exactly what Ramsay Bolton had done to you, to twist your fears of Jon’s love into this such terrifying doubt inside you.

[stra-tek]

Lots and lots of random spoilerific things about Star Trek comics

Gold Key's old run was written by people who had never actually seen the show. Later they involved fans like Doug Drexler to make things a bit more authentic

This however made them, IMHO, amazing

Blond scotty. Wearing green.

Voodoo planet, with papier mache versions of Earth landmarks which, when blasted with a death ray, cause the real ones to collapse

Spock learns voodoo to combat this threat

The Enterprise completely razes a planet of hostile plant spore things. Like full on extermination of all life

There's a locked room on deck 7 full of evil Vulcan spirits. A yeoman blunders in and all hell breaks loose

Kirk doesn't know what a god damn black hole is

Spock is kidnapped by aliens, has their entire knowledge downloaded into his brain which makes him into a bobblehead for awhile

The Enterprise is briefly taken from Kirk and given to Captain Zarlo, who is a total bellend

Spock forgets to have pointed ears sometimes

The old UK newspaper comic strips were even worse. The first few issues feature "Captain Kurt" and he wears a red shirt. Bailey is also a lead character, giving away which one episode they had knowledge of

Depictions of the Enterprise in their very first strip will shock and horrify you, but after that the art becomes amazing and maintains a very high standard

Marvel did a series following The Motion Picture, and it was a vast improvement, although they technically had rights to the movie and not the series, which led to a little weirdness. Tons of references still were snuck in, though

There's a series of Book and Records, which you can listen to on YouTube and are goofy fun. The Enterprise desperately needs a meal in the art, though.

They draw Romulans as green wizards

They didn't have the rights to Nichelle Nichols or George Takei's likenesses, so get ready for White Uhura and Black Sulu!

They didn't have the rights to The Animated Series either, so M'Ress is a human with weird face paint and Arex is substituted for just some guy

There's an unlicensed Chinese adaptation of The Motion Picture's novelisation (made with zero prior knowledge of Star Trek), which features an all-star cast like O.J. Simpson as Decker and James Brolin as Kirk. It's called The Star Trek, which is a better name than The Motion Picture, IMHO.

DC comics' first run is considered some of the best Trek ever. They're made with love and a deep knowledge of the source material

You know how Star Trek III takes place right after II? WRONG. It was several months later and the crew (with Saavik taking over from Spock) had tons of adventures in the interim. It just seemed like it was right after😂

Before Worf and long long before Ash Tyler, Kirk had a Klingon on his crew

He was a cowardly Klingon named Konom who fled the Empire

He fell in love with a human woman named Bryce

They adopted an albino Klingon/human child with dwarfism which they named Bernie

Kirk has an unhinged, insubordinate crewman on board named Bearclaw and they hate each other

Tension escalates and eventually there's a stabbing

Sulu/M'Ress happens and I don't think people knew what furrys were in the 80's

You know how Spock comes back at the end of III but isn't his old self until the end of Star Trek IV? WRONG AGAIN. He came back just fine, and lost his marbles following an incident months later that just happened to line everything up to make it all seem like it was right after.

After STIII, Kirk becomes captain of the U.S.S. Excelsior NX-2000 and Spock becomes captain of the U.S.S. Surak. We get a few issues exclusively focusing on Spock's ship and his band of merry weirdos.

The U.S.S. Surak keeps changing design, starting off as a sort of Oberth-class ship, then randomly becoming an Excelsior-class ship and finally ending as the warp sled shuttlecraft from The Motion Picture

The Surak's crew include a giant chicken man, a Vulcan hating racist lady and a balding man with a bicycle

They all die horribly and a massive reset button is pressed so everyone is exactly where they were at the end of Star Trek III

In order to make that work they had to bs that the Klingon Bird of Prey was hidden in Excelsior's shuttlebay all this time despite it being way, way too big for that

There's a full on mirror universe invasion

Kirk becomes a celebrity from saving the galaxy all the time

Mr. Arex comes back and becomes chief of security but doesn't really do much

HORTA CREWMEMBER. It's as amazing as it sounds

The first Next Generation comic miniseries was made with knowledge of the first 2 or 3 TNG episodes and nothing else

Everyone is hench as fuck. Picard has washboard abs and bulging muscles

Data is emotional and Troi feels the emotions she senses a la "Encounter at Farpoint"

Wesley is drawn as if he's 10

The B-shift con and ops team are a husband and wife who wear caped superhero versions of Starfleet uniforms with bare legs.

They argue. A lot.

The crew meet an alien Santa Claus and Q loses his powers years before "Deja Q"

The whole Q Continuum visits the Enterprise and they're all John De Lancie but in Starfleet uniforms of every colour under the sun.

After that initial miniseries, the Next Gen crew lose a lot of their muscle mass and start resembling their on screen counterparts a lot better

Picard had a brother who fell down a hole and died as a child. Q offers to rewrite history so he doesn't die. Claude Picard grew up to be Space Superhitler and turns Starfleet and the Federation fascist.

Before all this Q turned Jean-Luc into a goat for the lolz

Marvel's The Early Voyages was very literally Strange New Worlds before Strange New Worlds.

They have a pyrokinetic security officer named Nano and he's awesome

Marvel lost the Trek license quite suddenly, and so the series ends on a cliffhanger where Admiral April is up to something iffy.

Marvel did a Starfleet Academy series featuring Nog and its utterly fantastic

A female Andorian cadet tries to make Nog feel at ease by greeting him in the nude, but Nog fails to take it as an innocent gesture and she immediately sends him flying across the room

Romulan agents with split personalities in Starfleet Academy!

They visit Talos IV and get help from Captain Pike, who's still alive

IDW comics did a prequel to the 2009 reboot where Picard is an ambassador, Data is captain of the Enterprise-E and Nero has hair. It was co-written by the movie writers and was considered sort of vaguely semi canon ish for a time

They originally wanted the Romulan supernova to destroy a lot more, including Earth and have Nero kill the TNG crew. It was the Star Trek Online devs that got them to scale things back because they'd have no universe left to set their game in.

Nero's ship looks like it does because after Romulus was destroyed he took it to a secret Romulan base and had it equipped with reverse-engineered Borg technology

You thought DC struggled to keep ship designs correct? IDW's comics keep using traced fan art from Google Images, and fan art (sometimes with unique ship designs) has shown up on multiple occasions as the Kelvinverse U.S.S. Enterprise

In one IDW TOS comic, the bridge is totally covered with TNG LCARS graphics.

In another, an Orion ship is a gigantic Stargate sticking out of the middle part of Battlestar Galactica.

Wanna see Kelvinverse versions of TOS episodes? That was their first comics run, picking up after the 2009 reboot movie. They start off very faithful and as the series goes on things diverge more and more

To the extent some stories have very different backstories and outcomes

We visit 2 Kelvin mirror universes and a genderswapped universe too. No, Kirk doesn't do what you're thinking.

Q visits the Kelvin Universe and brings the crew forward in time to their version of Deep Space Nine

Nero's time in Klingon prison (from the Star Trek 2009 deleted scenes) and escape is fleshed out

Nero meets V'ger.

Nero mind melds with V'ger.

V'ger turns away due to the sheer force of Nero's hatred.

I wish I was making that up.

Klingons get their hands on Narada's technology and go to war

We get a Khan backstory where the Eugenics Wars are a full on nuclear conflict and "Khan" is the title that little Noon Sing adopts when he takes power

After being revived in the 23rd century, Admiral Marcus has Khan surgically altered to look like Benedict Cumberbatch as part of his John Harrison cover identity

They did a series of shorts called Waypoint, and in the first one Geordi is captain of a future Enterprise and his crew is made up of holographic versions of Data and it's a really sweet concept (this was several years before before ST: Picard brought Data back twice)

There's a prequel series centred around Number One where nobody manages to say her name before being interrupted. If you put the bits together it seems her name was Eureka Robbins. Of course, this is long before novels and SNW made her Una Chin-Riley.

[rubyrealities]

.・𝓓𝑟 𝐼𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜 .゜✭・

Hihi!! Sososoososos sorry for not posting much.... But I have been thinking to share you guys about my world in another universe, so here are some facts that makes a total difference!

· 𝓕𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑠 ✧ .

Our Earth Code is Earth 0175.

Earth 0175 rotated 100x times faster than Earth 616(or this reality) in results every milisecond in this Earth will be 1,000,000 years in Earth 0175.

The year is 2844,in modern technology.

There are no religions, but there are worshipers. The Deities and Gods in here are totally different. Almost like the Archons from Genshin Impact, but they do not rely on "more Worship = more power" or even comes in a physical Form.

The fantasy humanoid species such as vampires, Sirens, elfs, etc, are 100% real and is a totally different creature compared to human body despite the similarities.

the magic possession are different, 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐤 holders are achievers and worked hard to achieve the Magik, some even went face to face with the Deities to Achieve them and Have a physical elemental stones, and they can only have 𝐨𝐧𝐞 each person, so if they wish to Give them to the following grandchildren they will have to make the choice of losing the power. 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐤 holders are people who experienced The Magik Possession Naturally from their young age. Some even experience meeting with the God(dess)s and unlike Magik Holders, they have a Elemental Stone symbol Marked on their limbs(depends on what Element).

It's possible to get 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝟏𝟑 Magik but.... It would take up 500 years, even that's if they rely on Consistency and not Motivation.

Hygiene products costs 5-20 cents - 0 . This is because thanks to the Magik we're able to create their own products without Harming Environment and nature.

There are no Economic crisis. Trash? Destroy them to ashes. Need materials to build Civilization Houses? 80% of Engineers are the Earth People. Need electricity outage? Nah dw we got electro people. And much others. This actions are Stated in almost Every countries in the whole world to keep the world safe. (We're all scared of Bhagvaan The God of Elements,or atleast after what happened in the History........😁)

There are punishments and even Public Executions for Racists(there are usually no punishments but they WILL be bullied and if they didn't then they will have to face Madvhi the Goddess of Beauty) , Rapist, Murderers, Pedophiles, Zoophile, etc. These Punishments are again, states all around the world as the Universal Moral code.

Therians and Furries is real, and God I'm scared to face them irl..... 😭😭, Therians are Still a community of Actual Reincarnated Animals/creatures in their past lifes including Sirens, Vampires, elfs, fairies, because again they ARE different creatures except they don't wear ears and tails... While furries are Humanoid Creautures that Somehow able to Adapt or take form of a Human body posture and Speak their native language (somewhat like a Skinwalker but ehh.. Not really) but there are still (what we call) fake therians and Furries in costumes, And they still get hate for mocking them.

There are soulmates, soul bond, and soul pal. Soulmates are explanatory, but soul bond is Your soul friends, and soul pal is your Soul's "Pets"

Therians/furries/other Creatures that comes in species with other animals can 100% talk to animals in their own language, the humans usually are Scared if they one day plan on conquering the whole world. (Which we will) so you could literally Find a Lion furry talking to normal local cats in their whole different languages, or just body language, depends on the creatures ofc 🤷🏻‍♀️

Heroes and Villains exists and plays a Huge role in our World, Heroes/Villains are the same level as Royals and presidents this is because to show Respect , although villains only get respect by fellow villains... Not civilians.😁

Almost every hero is rich, so they're able to get their own Fashion Designer for their suits

Heaven is called Utopia and Hell is Called DysTopia, in Utopia is where all Souls of any creature go in the after life,only souls who managed to keep a Good intimacy with their environment can go in. While DysTopia is where all souls of any creature who created chaos and Destruction in the world while they were alive. You CAN be reincarnated, but it is the Deities choice to make up that decision, usually only souls who have a misunderstanding with their soulmates can Reincarnated. But of course, different person different story 🤷🏻‍♀️

We have dragons!! They act like sharks, basically Dogs in the sky, despite their scary looking appearance,I assure you they're really playful and fun!! They're apart of Reptilians and usually founded in African-Asia where there are mostly Hot, they usually found in the Volcanic Areas, that's why other elemental people other than the Fires tend to ovoid such conflict, Dragons are not pets, I mean you COULD take care of them but some regions doesn't allow Dragons into their country, to ovoid such destruction.

We have Na'vis and Sirens. Except both doesn't go well with each other. There are "mermaids" but humans like to call them sea-tails, because there are serpents, octopus, and more.

And I think that's it!! I doubt anyone would read all of this, but hey! It was fun sharing to you guys , feel free to ask questions 😁, thanks for reading ♥︎

[dream--interrupted]

Warning: looooooong post with many old art ahead! A small break from Greek mythology, have some Hindu mythology instead! (Almost) all of my Mahabharata fanservants. It's time for Pand(ava)emonium!! .......... That sounded funnier in my head.

Berserker, Bhima (I made him before Bhima became canon and I'm keeping him because my Bhima isn't a Lancer!

Madreyas.

Lancer Yudhi.

Ruler Yudhi/Yudhi alter (Dharmaraja)

Caster Yudhi/Indonesian Yudhi (Puntadewa)

Caster Ghatotkacha (I will get around giving you a proper design one day!!!)

Archer Abhimanyu

Bonus: Ruler Krishna.

Miscellaneous:

The jewel on Dharmaraja's forehead is the very same jewel on Ashwatthama's forehead. It was ripped from Ashwatthama as punishment at the end of the Kurukshetra war and was given to Draupadi. Draupadi then gave it to Yudhi to wear.

Nakula's sword(s), Asi, was created by the Gods and has gone through many, many owners but it eventually ended up with Drona and then Ashwatthama after Drona's death. Buttttt then Ash was punished/banished and the sword was given to his maternal uncle, Kripacharya, for safekeeping. Kripa gave the sword to Nakula, who would eventually return it to Kripa when the Pandavas died. It's said Kripa still is caring for the sword (which is apparently sentient!!) until the day Ashwatthama comes back for it.

(Ash is very sick of the Pandavas taking his things...!)

The name of this file is literally "yama why" (alternate name: Yudhi is very tired)

There is probably some drawbacks being the son of the God of the dead and underworld... (Yudhi is my fav and that is why I like bullying him)

Mafia AU.

Yudhi is the boss (and he still hates his life). Dharmaraja is having fun though!

Bhima still the MVP

Nakula utilizes his reputation of being vain - people think he's just admiring himself with his pocket mirror but the truth is he's secretly using it as a way to check on the surroundings behind him.

Sahadeva is always ready to throw hands. Or stab someone. Or shoot someone. Whichever he deems necessary at the moment.

[blorbowhereartthoublorbo]

Mortimer Outfit Catalogue (Part 1)

hey there, stranger! have you ever wanted to see every single one of mortimer’s outfits? no? well, with me and @scummiezzz’s extensive knowledge on mortimer media, we’ve collected all mortimer fits known to the public into post format just for you! (but mainly for ourselves lol)

i’ll go over (and rate) each outfit from his animated appearances, while scummiezzz will do the same for his comic + video game appearances! let’s begin :]

10/10

this is baseline mortimer. he establishes a common look for him, with the cuffed, striped sweater, the high waisted pants, the fancy hat. the pleats on his pants are a nice touch as well.

2/10

the difference in whites haunts me. i hate his shoes made out of ashes. why couldn’t he have just worn black or brown shoes? 😭

only getting 2 points because i did giggle when i found him in the movie.

12/10

whoever decided his shirt should be unbuttoned should have gotten a raise 🙏

ALSO!!! HE HAS HIS TAIL 🥹🥹🥹

6/10

although this is a quick outfit for a gag, it’s interesting to me how they chose green with white stripes. they could have easily chosen blue, but they chose green. i like to believe this is a nod to his classic design, especially since this is mortimer’s first reboot appearance :)

3/10

this design is lacking. i like how they tinted the gloves yellow to go with the warm colors of his outfit, and that they’re establishing his color as orange, but the hat throws me off idk

10/10

oh my god. the colors!!! the striped tie! the fact that he lied in court in this outfit! this is the epitome of mortimer! ❤️❤️❤️

5/10

i mean… it tricked the judge lol, decent disguise

he even wears it again in “mickey’s april fools”!

3/10

it served its purpose, but realistically, he can’t pull off the shorts. also does he have PECS here the hell???

5/10

now this is more like it! there’s potential here. add a few patterns here, and a few bright colors there, and you got yourself an outfit made by mortimer!

-10000/10

rating this gag outfit low because i cringe too much when i see this clip 😬

4/10

he just had this outfit on hand i guess LMAO

8/10

a great retro design for mortimer!! here, the hat works with the pants. also!!!!!!!!! he has his whiskers and tail :)

7/10

HE’S SO DEAR TO ME,,, he looks all nice and toasty for winter!! i like how they still establish that orange is his color in this series. it’s so cute how he tucked the pants into the boots. it gives this design a fun shape.

5/10

i don’t know what it is, but he can pull off this look. rated it a 5 because we don’t know the colors of this outfit.

9/10

this is one of the first mortimers that comes to mind when i think of him, so it’s definitely an iconic look. the color palette goes so well together here. the turtleneck gives this a more casual vibe. looks like a modern revamp of the suits he used to wear in the comics. :] (ALSO love how they made the jacket cropped, that was such a good move on their part.)

7/10

ngl… this one’s pretty endearing to me. awwwww, the primary colors. he’s wearing cuffed jeans??! THE BOW TIE IS SO DORKY… i guess you could say it ties the whole outfit together :D (BOOOOOOOOOOO)

8/10

he’s on model, with his own personal emblem and a dramatic collar?? you know i gotta rate that high.

also reminder that mortimer somehow obtained (or even created???) this glove of inordinate power.

5/10

i’m pretty indifferent to this outfit, but i do appreciate how they gave him his own emblem (again) and made his number 36, which is a nod to the year his original short was released!

7/10

you can’t go wrong with armor!

2/10

strangely, this matches him… 🤔 /JOKING

3/10

i don’t know what it is, but i just can’t like this outfit. maybe it’s the big pupils combined with the round ears that makes him off kilter??? i don’t like the choice of colors, nor his bowtie here. it’s nice that they added cuffs to the ends of his sweater, tho! (and they gave it a stripe :,))

4/10

i definitely like the sailor’s hat, but the rest is just okay. (shrugs)

6/10

i like the frilly bits and the bowtie here. he’s at a ball, of course he would wear something formal! the collar is always a nice touch (so dramatic XD)

(link to part 2)

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

OC questionnaire

Thanks to @drchenquill here, @somethingclevermahogony here and here, @mk-writes-stuff here, @elsie-writes here, and @dyrewrites here!

My last questionnaires:

Robbie, Gwen, Maddie, Noelle, Jedi, and Kelsey here.

Carmen, George, Akash, Sam, Lexi, and Ash here.

Gabriel, Carla, Parker, Rose, Alex, and Ewan here!

Below the cut I'll do: Liam, Hye-Jin, Wendy, Wade, Issa, and CJ!

#1- Liam

Which color do you hate?

“Beige. Oh my God, it's just a boring color. I thought that we were past this. Different shades of beige and brown are being used to be the ~aesthetic~ of so many people on Tiktok. Ma'am, where are you from, Boringsville??? I'm not dissing brown. Brown is a great color. But beige??? Who thought this would look nice on anything, much less everything? Why are all of your walls beige--you look like you live in a sandcastle. Man, I feel bad for Hye-Jin. Her powers appear beige! You poor thing. I have brown. An awesome color, remember. So earthly. Anyway, beige can go die with the sand in the Yukon River Basin for all I care. If I go into your house and see one beige wall, I'm leaving. A rainbow is weeping. You disgraced the rainbow. How dare you.”

If all the sounds in the world would cease to exist, which sound would you miss the most?

“I don't see the point in making me choose a favorite sound. Also, how do you know sound stopped? Ceased to exist? Sound exists as a vibration through matter. Why would that vibration suddenly stop? How do you know we didn't all just go deaf? That's a significantly more logical explanation than sound disappearing. And if you think I don't have an answer and am just avoiding the question, you're very mistaken. I'd miss people's voices. For a variety of reasons. Connection, analyzing tone, nuances of emotion or thought, even my own voice. Sure, I'd be able to learn a gesture-based language--I am not saying voice is the most important thing to hear. But considering I like a good oral debate, I would still miss it, even if it would take me time to adjust to the new mode of speaking. Next!”

What is the first rule you learned as a child?

“You are going to have to rebel and argue your way out of everything. You may or may not be able to tell, but I am a strongly opinionated person. I can make an argument out of everything. Knowing how to back stuff up with logic and facts to get your way. Push and push and push. Know your shit. If you're wondering how this was the first rule I learned, one of my first memories is refusing to eat my carrots because they were bad. I was...three and a half maybe. And I told my mom, 'if I eat these carrots, I will throw up, and then I'd have to eat more food, and you get mad when food is wasted'. I then ate carrots and threw up. Never had to eat them again.”

#2- Hye-Jin

What is one embarassing memory from your childhood that you can't shake?

“Oh, oh no. First day of class, kindergarten. I had to introduce myself in front of the class. I was so excited for my first day of class. I wore this cute little dress, my hair in high pigtails and bows. But when I stood in front of everyone else, I got so sick I threw up. I think I ate something like prune juice in the morning. My dress was ruined. Had to be walked to the nurse to change. Wore that the rest of the day.”

What would you take with you if you were trapped on a desert island for one week?

“Food, water, and shelter. Sunscreen. I'm not pale, but that doesn't mean I'll be protected from UV rays. I would like a change of clothes just so I feel clean. I wouldn't mind bringing one person along with me, but you said what, so that may not be an option. But I really think I could do it.”

What is your favorite animal?

“I actually really like snakes. They're super cool in terms of design. Love reading about them, and I have a snake themed room!”

#3- Wendy

What is your favourite animal?

“Changes depending on the day. Yesterday it was tigersharks. Today it's a water dragon. Tomorrow it may be a capybara.”

Do you have any obscure skills? What are they?

“I can basket weave. Some people think that's obscure.”

If you could change one thing about the world you live in, what would it be?

“More hours in the day so I can do what I want to do.”

#4- Wade

What is your favorite song?

“Rasputin. How can you not love that song? Mr. Brightside is up there, too.”

Do you like consuming happy, positive media, or sadder, more thought-provoking media?

“I like both. You need a balance in life. But thought-provoking in general. I like thinking about things, analyzing them. Not necessarily sadder stories, but thought-provoking.”

What is your favorite type of weather?

“I like it warm and sunny, but enough cloud coverage. The kind of weather where everything is greener, that makes you say out loud, 'it sure is a beautiful day.'”

#5- Issa

When is the last time you were afraid?

“Last week, I was staying up late working on an essay. I was home alone--something I rarely am with six siblings. It was eerily quiet. I already felt uncomfortable. I was on the phone with Alex, multitasking, so I could have someone to talk to to ease my nerves. She got up to pee, which left me alone in my living room for a few minutes. In that time, I heard a banging on our garage door. It was harsh, constant. I thought someone was trying to break in. Then as quickly as it came, it was gone. Alex got back on the line then. I would've felt much better if whatever that was happened any other time.”

Does the fear haunt you still?

“Not really. It was only a minute, maybe two. Took about an hour talking to Alex. But I stopped working on my essay for the rest of the night. Not that I didn't try, but Alex convinced me to stop when I couldn't concentrate due to my heart pounding.”

What do you do when you're afraid?

“What's with all the fear questions? Well, I usually stand my ground. I yelped a bit when that happened. I was frozen for a bit, but I actually was about to get up to check what the banging was when it stopped.”

#6- CJ

What was your favorite toy as a child?

“I had little mini figurines of a bunch of Puppets* characters. I liked them because most of my playtime consisted of me ordering them based on height. After I lined them up, I would play. I also liked burying a bunch of rubber balls in the yard, leaving them there for, like, a week, then digging them up again. My shovels were definitely a favorite. There was also some cool Alii tech thing that simulated growth of a plant. The entire life cycle, in fact. Man, that was awesome.”

What makes you laugh every time you see it?

“Issa and Alex invite us to their improv shows each Friday. Issa is the best at anything they give her. I could watch her all day. She loves putting inside jokes in her skits for me, and is great at linking back previous gags. And then Alex wins Can You Ask a Question? each time. But it's hilarious how she and Issa interact. One time, Wendy laughed harder than I'd ever seen, and she spit out her drink. Then this one asshole Ellie slipped on it during her turn. So yeah, the improv shows.”

Who is the most annoying person you know?

“Issa is annoyingly optimistic sometimes, but that's why I love her. Parker is also a bit annoying at times, but he's funny as shit, so I don't care. Gabriel is quite annoying. Everyone tells me that we're very similar, but I don't see it. Honestly, yeah, it's Ellie. I didn't want to say she was annoying cause she's mainly rude. She's constantly making fun of me for everything I do. Like she doesn't like how organized and specific I am for some reason. She asked for a pencil once, and I told her no, I have my pencils for a very specific reason, and don't let anyone else use them. I think she's hated me ever since. It's probably not as petty as that, unless it is. I don't know. Thankfully, I don't know her well enough to answer that question.”

*this universe's Muppets

TSP intro

I'll tag @gracehosborn @little-peril-stories @willtheweaver @willowiswriting @rickie-the-storyteller @mysticstarlightduck @badluck990 @unrepentantcheeseaddict @winterandwords @oh-no-another-idea @awritingcaitlin @cwritesfiction + anyone else who would like to play!

EDIT: I DID NOT GIVE YOU QUESTIONS OH MY GODDDDDD I'm so sorry

What's something that was horrible in the moment, but in hindsight is hilarious?

Do you often get lost in thought? Where does your mind go? How do you focus?

Who do you worry about the most?

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

[that-starry-freak]

Nsiwndjensjwnns finally got around to drawing @alexandraisyes's Ash design!! (Aka Eaps Moon)

Im defiently going to draw Ash and Nora a lot more once I finally get around to watching Eaps-

I hated how it looked as I was drawing it but tbh it doesn't look that bad. I defiently didn't do them justice, but yknow, could be worse.

God your designs for the two are so pretty I swear-

[fantasy-mixtapes]

Kristen Applebees S3 Playlist: Side A

Here's Part 1 of Kristen's Junior Year Playlist, I am obsessed with it so far and will probably continue to be. Descriptions and key lyrics below. Spoilers for Episodes 1-10

Genres include: Pop-Punk, Alternative, Punk, Folk

1. Lavender Bones, Stand Atlantic

I know I'm out of my depth, but I just float in it I try to do my best, stop picking fights with it I wanna be upset, you're not alright with it I can cover it up, I can cover it Try to speak my mind, wish it was by design But I can only confess to having doubts with it Don't wanna feel regret, I'm not alright with it I can cover it up, I can cover it

So this is a perfect background music for the start of a movie about Kristen's life right now and I LOVE finding those songs. It's perfect on so many layers, it talks about feeling trapped, wanting to fix empty habits, and not to mention how "lavender bones" really hits home to my queer little heart. This entire playlist is really a game of guessing when the "you" in songs chosen mean Tracker and when they mean Cassandra, level: impossible

2. Starchild, Sweet Pill

What do you want from me? I am not a charity Work hard at everything Do it all for free What do you want from me? I am not a guarantee Go all or nothing Lose your money ... Set up to win Wind up disappointing everyone In the end I am disappointing mostly myself In the end Hang your Head

I AM SO NOT NORMAL ABOUT THIS SONG Guys its like it was written for this very specific situation. AND THE TITLE???? FOR A CLERIC OF THE GODDESS OF MYSTERY, DOUBT, THE NIGHT, AND STARS???????

anyways just please please listen to it its so great like even without the connection to Kristen, go support Sweet Pill they have a new album being released tomorrow (March 15th)

3. Uneeda, Deady

What about the bones The bones have no problem Turn them into ash And this never happened Your ashes big asses Your brains on the pavement Oh no! I can feel myself rot Unless I take your hand

Ok so this is kind of a genre outlier on the playlist since it is very very alt punk but for me it represents the rage at the mall, Kristen's relationship to Cassandra, and both of their respective reactions to what happened. It's very chaotic, but it was a very chaotic situation and I stand by it plus I love adding modern bands to things

4. Bite the Hand, boygenius

I can't hear you You're too far away I can't see you The light is in my face I can't touch you I wouldn't if I could I can't love you how you want me to I can't love you how you want me to

Yeah, sorry had to whip out the queer break-up big guns. I don't feel sorry I feel right.

5. Untitled God Song, Haley Heynderickx

When you're drunk near a sunset, look straight in her eyes She's a quick glimpse of heaven, forgetting her headlights are on When you misread her fortune, don't misread the joke She's the note on your lampshade, the honeycomb holdin' you And she spins me around like a marionette Oh, my web is still spinnin' My web is still spinnin', you can't see it yet

Immediately going from having total contact with a divinity figure to having to grasp for straws once again to a memory you hold onto, literally holding onto the shards of your faith. Having to both embrace doubt and faith at the same time. Girlies, I'm ruined

6. C'est Comme Ça, Paramore

In a single year I've aged one hundred My social life a chiropractic appointment Sit still long enough to listen to yourself Or maybe just long enough for you to atrophy to hell ... I know that regression is rarely rewarded I still need a certain degree of disorder I hate to admit, getting better is boring But the high cost of chaos Who can afford it?

I love Kristen, and I think her arc this season is extremely relatable; currently, 90% of what she does are bits, and I KNOW it's a coping mechanism, but STILL, WHY ARE YOU SO MESSY. I love you; keep being 17, but god, keep your clothes on and stop going to the steel plants girlie you're gonna give Riz a heart attack

[theoryandahalf]

I just realized I have literally no time & skill to write the Fnaf au/joking because it'd take forever

seriously though, why does everyone want to give students homework. I go to school , that should be enough :/

In a question I swear is relevant , team theorists as types teachers

MatPat would probably be English - don't ask my why he just gives english teacher vibes

I'm pretty sure there are studies that show too much homework is ineffective but don't quote me on it. Hang in there pal, fanfic can wait for the weekend.

I kinda agree Matt gives off Dead Poets Society vibes but I think he's said on record he hated English classes (was I the only one shocked that MatPat doesn't read?!). If he's teaching high school, yeah he's the AP Lit professor. If he's teaching college, he's the really young, oversharing Psych101 professor who's really cool but you also know too much about his wife, kid and cat, and his weekend hobbies. He's overcommitted on five hundred faculty committees and faculty Senate. He's won Teacher/Professor of the Year five times and he's not even 40 yet. In his spare time he consults for Google.

My other guesses:

Stephanie: Chemistry Professor or high school Chem teacher. God help you poor kids in her class, she's the strictest grader and the only time she unwinds is when Mr. Patrick sneaks into her classroom in between break periods. You know nothing about her personal life. Is she married to Mr. Patrick/Dr Patrick, or are they just friends?! Unless you have Mr Patrick and he overshares about her, you won't know, and you never will.

Lee: Bad ass History teacher all the way, in university and high school. He's also the advisor for the academic decathlon team. He's the chillest teacher ever and he'll let you sleep in his class. Just don't disrespect Tolkien in his presence.

Amy: Art teacher in high school, teaches fashion and design at the college level. She gives off 'mean teacher' vibes because most people only see her interact with Mr. Massa and Mr. Robinson and she often rips them a new one for being too loud and obnoxious. But she's actually fantastic to have in class and you learn a lot from her.

You also work your butt off. Don't take her as an elective.

Tom: ...I have no idea. I guess choir director? Tom is dyslexic and ADHD so teaching would be a hard profession for him. I can see him doing choir/show choir at the high school level though. He seems to give really good advice on his streams so maybe he's a school guidance counselor or adviser.

Santi: Physical education or kinesiology professor. He beefs with Mr. Robinson all the time because he keeps stealing his best football players for his stupid little drama club. Clearly PE is superior because there's more sports scholarships than there are art, so Tom is really just bringing down the entire school. Mr. Massa is also a very chill teacher, he'll let you skip class so long as Mr. Patrick doesn't notice you're not at the all school assembly (because he will notice).

Ash: The overburdened AV instructor/school librarian/media specialist in the Theorist high school. For college, they are the media librarian that just wants you to return the dvd copy of Return of the King, LEE. Ash never has enough money or time in any incarnation but they are the most cheerful and bad ass LGBTQ+ student club advisor you've ever had. Lies to homophobic parents and says they're just a gaming club because you do usually end up discussing FNAF lore for hours until Ms. Cordato knocks on the door to politely kick you all out because its 5pm.

BONUS

Head Editor Dan: Animation professor or creative writing teacher at Theorist High. Also does freshmen homeroom so he's constantly in pain and in need of coffee. Gives off 'don't mess with me' vibes but is a real sweetheart if you get to know him. But what you don't know is that he's pitching five different tv pilots and one of these days he will just randomly disappear because his show was bought by ABC. Ten years from now you'll see his name in the credits of your favorite show as the Executive Producer.

[blackmoonlightexpress]

TTEOTM Creative Team: What else did they work on?

For those who are a bit underwhelmed by the summer drama options or still dreaming about TTEOTM! 😎

Kuk Kok Leung (Lead Director)

Kuk Kok Leung is a veteran director who started his career in Hong Kong's TVB. He's been nominated for the prestigious Magnolia Award and is known for wuxia and serious, warm-blooded historical dramas (he's adapted 7 out of 8 Jinyong novels). His works include...

Legend of the Condor Heroes (1983) as Assistant Director, with Felix Wong and Barbara Yung

The Duke of Mount Deer (1984), with Tony Leung & Andy Lau

Return of the Condor Heros (1983) with Andy Lau & Idy Chan

Legend of the Condor Heroes (2002) with Li Yapeng & Zhou Xun

Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils (2003), with Hu Jun, Jimmy Lin, and Liu Yifei

Water Margin (2011), nominated for Magnolia Award

Cool Sword (2013), with Julian Cheung & Wallace Chung

The Patriot Fei Yue (2013), with Huang Xiaoming & Ruby Lin

The Stand-In (2014), with Wallace Chung

The General and I (2016), with Wallace Chung and Angelababy

He's also a frequent collaborator and producer on Johnny To films, including Election, Election 2, Mad Detective.

So you get the picture. He makes TV for men who are ready to bleed for their country. This all makes him a really interesting choice for TTEOTM (and tells you a bit about the ambition and creative vision of the producers), especially since all his more recent idol dramas were widely panned.

Wang Haiqi, Director & Action Director

We don't know too much about Wang Haiqi because TTEOTM is actually his directorial debut. He started his career in stunts and has worked as the action coordinator on Ashes of Love (2018) and Immortality (unreleased) alongside Luo Yunxi. He was also a stunts man/double in a bunch of Hollywood films, including Mulan (2020) and the Foreigner (2017) through the Jacky Chan stunts team.

He's responsible for most of the action/battle scenes in TTEOTM, and his experience working on films probably explains why the fight sequences are unusually cinematic for TV.

Luan Hexin, Art Director

Luan Hexin is a Magnolia Award nominated art director best known for Huanyu productions, including Story of Yanxi Palace, Winter Begonia, and Royal Feast. He's a serious art guy, as you can tell from this interview.

(Note: Huanyu is Bai Lu's management company. There is a rumor that Luan Hexin is part of Bai Lu's "dowry", but the parties have since clarified that Luan was brought in after she was cast.)

He's also an interesting choice, having never worked on costume fantasies before and better known for his authentic representation of the look and feel of bygone eras.

Huang Wei, Costume Designer

Huang Wei is one of the most sought-after costume designers working today, especially for xianxias. She started her career as a Vogue China editor and was in fact the person responsible for TTEOTM's Dunhuang-inspired aesthetics.

Her better known works include A Dream of Splendor (2022), One and Only (2020), Love O2O (2015), Back from the Brink (2023) as well as a bunch of highly anticipated dramas like Immortality and The Last Immortal. (The joke on Chinese internet is that there is an "expensive" vs. "cheap" version of Huang Wei costumes - her design can be much simpler on lower-budget productions.)

I'd like to think that after designing 40 mostly white costumes for Luo Yunxi in Immortality, she decided to go nuts on color with Tantai Jin.

Tsang Ming Fai, Makeup Designer

Tsang Ming Fai is a big name in the xianxia circuit. He and his team of “students" have worked on a large number of costume dramas, including Ashes of Love (2018), Love & Redemption (2020), Under the Power (2019), Noble Aspirations (2016), Sword of Legends (2014), as well as the... wait for it... unreleased Immortality and Luo Yunxi's currently filming drama Follow Your Heart.

He's sadly been receiving a lot of hate in fan circles over the heavy makeup in TTEOTM (which may or may not have been his call). What I do appreciate is his ability to help actors craft distinct characters with varied hair and makeup choices. For example you can distinguish between different Luo Yunxi characters and their personalities with Runyu's clean cut tie-back half ponytail (ethereal & straight laced), Tantai Jin's slightly brown hair, messy bangs and heavy eye shadow (dark & sickly), Chu Wanning's angular eyebrows and geometric hair puff (strict & proud).

He also excels at creating unusual, iconic looks even for side characters, e.g. Chen Yao's dark lipstick paired with gothic jewelry in Immortality and Chen Duling's retro updo in TTEOTM.

[scarlettjemily]

Sedona - Chapter 1/?

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Jennifer "JJ" Jareau

Summary: Inspired by the song 'Sedona' by Houndmouth.

JJ leaves her home town to get away from her toxic family environment. She gets a job as a lifeguard. She's introduced to the lifeguard in charge of training her; a closed off, sarcastic, snappy brunette named Emily.

Song suggested by @time-himself

Word count: 2.4k

Posted on Ao3 as well

“Hey Emily, I’ve got a new girl starting today. I want you to train her and show her the ropes, but please be nice." Emily sat in a beach lounge, set up for the staff who were patrolling the beach.

Emily rolled her eyes, releasing a puff of smoke from her lips. She flicked the burning ash off of her cigarette into the makeshift ash tray that they had hidden in the lifeguard tent. “Are you insinuating that I’m not a nice person?” She asked, looking up at her boss.

Derek chuckled, winding up some rope that was left out from yesterday’s shift. “You’re not NOT nice, just a bit standoffish?” He threw the rope under one of the tables and sat down on the beach chair across from her. “Please work with me here; I got rid of the last guy because you didn’t like him so-“

"Well, he was a fucking weirdo! God forbid, I want to feel comfortable at my job,” Emily snapped, cutting Derek off. She placed the cigarette up to her lips, taking a long inhale. The minimal buzz calmed her sudden spike of frustration. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap; I just hated that guy,” Emily mumbled through a stream of smoke, hugging her legs up to her chest, the breeze from the waves chilling her skin.

Derek didn’t take her mini-outburst personally; he’s been working with Emily since she was 19. She’s 25 now, and he’s practically seen her grow up. He viewed her somewhat as a daughter. He always forgave her outbursts because he just knew what she was like. “Exactly, so I’ve hired a young girl close to your age, hoping you’ll feel more comfortable around her. Maybe you can even be friends.” He knew she’d find that suggestion amusing. Emily kept to herself a lot.

“Fuck off, Derek!” she laughed, putting out her cigarette and twisting her legs off the chair, letting her feet sink into the cool sand below. “When does she come?” Emily asked, hoping it was later in the day so she didn’t have to spend her whole shift making awkward small talk.

“Any time now.”

She let out an exaggerated sigh. “Well, I’ve got no choice, do I?” She huffed, standing up and removing the beach dress that she wore over her uniform. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice,” she teased, slipping her sunglasses on and making her way down the beach to hop up on her designated chair that looked over the water.

“Hey! JJ, welcome; I’m so glad to have you on board with us." JJ beamed at her new boss; she was excited to start her new job. “I’m so sorry. I’d love to show you around, but I’ve got an issue I’ve got to fix. If you head right down there, that’s Emily; she’s going to be training you.”

JJ looked down the beach, seeing a brunette girl in the distance, sitting atop a lifeguard chair. Her hair was flying everywhere from the wind that was coming off the ocean, but the woman didn’t seem to mind. “No worries, you go; I’ll go introduce myself.” JJ hoped her independence and confidence gave off a good first impression. She really needed this job.

“Enjoy your first day!” Derek yelled out while running off to tend to whatever problem needed him.

JJ headed down the beach towards Emily in the lifeguard chair. When she got there, she was looking through a pair of binoculars at something in the water. JJ gave her a friendly smile. “Hi, are you Emily?” She asked, holding her hand above her brow, attempting to block the bright sun from flashing in her eyes.

"Depends on who’s asking,” Emily stated, continuing to look through the binoculars and ignoring JJ's presence.

"Umm, well, Derek sent me here to find you; it’s my first day.” JJ was hesitant because Emily didn’t seem very friendly. “I’m JJ,” she tried again, smiling at the other lifeguard.

Emily not so subtly sighed and dropped her binoculars. She looked down, seeing the blonde girl standing next to her. “JJ? That short for anything?” She flatly asked.

“Jennifer, Jennifer Jareau.”

“Jennifer”

JJ tried to hold back a laugh, so when it came out, it sounded like a very patronising snicker. “Yes? Is that okay, Emily? What’s your deal? Have you had a rough morning or something?” JJ couldn’t help herself; she was so thrown by Emily’s attitude. “Lighten up,” she said, pushing it one step further.

Emily’s eyebrows raised under her sunglasses. She was shocked but also impressed, the latter being something she would never admit. “You’re fun, Jennifer,” she said, lifting her sunglasses and resting them atop her head. “So how old are you anyway? Like 15?”

JJ rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm actually 23; don’t act like you’re so much older; you literally look 17." The sarcasm leaving JJ's mouth was equally shocking to herself and to Emily.

Emily let out a laugh at the girl's comment, genuinely thinking she was funny. “You’re right, I’m 25. I was just messing with you.” Emily hopped off the chair, standing in front of JJ, finally getting a proper look at her. “So, where are you from?”

JJ relaxed briefly now that Emily seemed to defrost a little. “Arizona. Specifically, Sedona,” JJ watched as the quizzical look crossed Emily’s face.

“Sedona? Why the fuck would you leave there to come to LA?” Emily turned momentarily towards the water to do a quick once-over, making sure everyone in the water was okay.

JJ shrugged nonchalantly, “same reason as 90% of the other people who move here—to get away from a shitty family.” She let out a half-chuckle, wanting to breeze over the topic.

“I hear that,” Emily agreed. Like the other woman, she also didn’t want to get into it. “I thought you might’ve come here to try and be famous or something.” Emily rolled her eyes at the thought. Clearly harbouring some form of judgement towards that career path.

“I mean, I studied acting in college, but that’s whatever; it is what it is." JJ could feel her cheeks heat up; she always got slightly embarrassed when people brought it up. She was quite shy when it came to her acting; she really didn’t know if she was any good or not.

“Oh shit! I mean, I could totally see you in a movie, like the cute girl who lives down the street,” Emily teased, not wanting JJ to think she was judging her for wanting to be an actor.

"Oh, shut up!” JJ laughed, feeling much more relaxed with Emily now. “Can you actually teach me some stuff about lifeguarding now?” She said, playing along with Emily’s humour.

“I guess I have to; let’s go, Sedona,” she said, leading JJ to the workers tent, switching into a more professional role in order to show JJ how things were done.

The end of their shift came around surprisingly quickly for Emily and JJ; they were able to get into a natural swing together.

Emily was impressed, not only by JJ’s ability to learn so quickly but also by the fact that she didn’t completely hate JJ. She found herself enjoying her quick-witted banter; not many people could keep up with Emily’s sense of humour.

“So I was going to go into town tonight, kind of explore a little, maybe find somewhere to have dinner; do you want to come?” JJ chirped, hopeful at the thought of having some company for dinner. She sat on the end of the beach chair that Emily was sitting on.

Emily had her knees up against her chest, her ankles locked together. She had a towel wrapped around her shoulders, her body still wet from the last rescue she did before her shift ended. "Hmm, I don’t know. Don’t you think spending a whole day together was enough?” She teased, subconsciously pulling the towel around her so it hugged her legs.

JJ laughed and rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m going either way, alone or not. You don’t strike me as someone who’s got many friends, so I thought I’d be nice,” she watched as Emily let out an amused chuckle, casually reaching into her bag and grabbing a packet of cigarettes.

Emily took out a cigarette and placed it between her lips. “Very perceptive, Sedona; I don’t like very many people.” She offered her pack of cigarettes to JJ, seeing if the other woman wanted one.

“No thanks; I don’t smoke,” JJ declined. “Those things will kill you, you know,” she said, knowing Emily has probably heard this many times before.

Emily lit her cigarette, taking it between her two fingers and blowing the first stream of smoke out of her lips, making sure to aim it off to the side, not wanting to blow it at JJ. "Oh, I’m banking on it,” she joked.

JJ shook her head, tucking her wet hair behind her ear. “You’re so dark," she said, her shoulders shaking back and forth momentarily from a lazy internal laugh, not quite letting the noise leave her mouth. “Anyway, that’s all good. I’ll see you tomorrow for our shift,” she pulled together her bag that was sitting on the sand below her.

JJ didn’t think Emily would say yes, so she didn’t mind much that she’d pretty much declined the offer. “I better head off now; thanks for today!” She said, pushing herself off the chair and catching her towel that was quickly sliding down her waist.

Emily nodded, giving her a small smile. She dropped her legs, so she was now sitting cross-legged on the chair. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she gave JJ a small wave as she watched the younger woman walk off down the beach. She found herself smiling at herself for a second, remembering how Derek had teased her that morning about being friends with JJ. Now she had the girl asking her to go have dinner with her.

She looked back over at JJ who was still walking down the beach. She let out a sigh and quickly put her cigarette out, grabbing her bag. “JJ wait!” She called out, jumping off the chair and jogging down towards the blonde woman.

JJ turned around after hearing her name; she smiled seeing Emily run towards her. “Couldn’t resist, could you?” She questioned, still walking backwards as Emily got closer.

"Oh, shut up; don’t think too much into it. I’m just hungry,” she stated, stepping into line with JJ's stride. She let out a deep laugh when JJ pushed her arm, making her stumble slightly to the side. “I’m kidding, don’t be so sensitive, Jennifer.”

JJ smirked, flipping Emily her middle finger as she ran up the steps that led to the car park, the brunette following quickly behind.

“Want me to drive?” JJ asked, lifting her bag to sit on her shoulder. They’d made it to the top of the stairs leading to the entrance of the car park; it was close to empty, being late in the afternoon. Only a few cars were parked sporadically around.

“You’ll have to; I walk to work; I live like 5 minutes away,” Emily said, pointing in a random direction. She wasn't even sure if that was the direction she lived in, but that wasn’t the point of the gesture.

Nodding, JJ started walking to her car. “Alrighty, hop in!” When she reached her car, a doorless Jeep Wrangler; she threw her bag in the back, not caring if her belongings flew out of it. She hauled herself up onto the driver's side, immediately slipping her key into the ignition.

Emily covered her face with her palm, trying so hard not to laugh but failing immensely. “You’ve got to be joking with me,” she laughed, walking up to the car. She rested her hands on the open doorway, leaning through the opening. “Did you search ‘beach aesthetic car’ on Pinterest and buy the first thing you saw? Holy shit JJ, where are your fucking doors?”

JJ couldn’t keep her laugh in as Emily kept throwing joke after joke at her. She gripped her steering wheel, resting her head on it. “Stop! You’re gonna make me cry,” she squeaked through her involuntary laughs. The muscles in her stomach started to ache from the constant laughter.

Emily’s cheeks warmed as she watched JJ in a fit of laughter. Something about making her laugh so much was giving Emily a warm feeling of satisfaction. She climbed up into JJ’s car, a wave of relief washing through her when she saw the car did, in fact, have seatbelts. “I mean, if the cigarettes don’t kill me first, this death trap sure will.” Emily burst out laughing, flinching away from JJ, dodging a playful punch that was coming her way.

“That’s the place there, the one with the neon pink sign,” Emily pointed out, the neon lights flashing brightly, lighting the surrounding area with a dull pink tinge.

JJ swung her car into a vacant spot right in front of the restaurant. She placed her car in park, pulling her keys out of the ignition. She watched Emily out of the side of her sunglasses, not trying to make it obvious that she was observing her movements. She found herself staring slightly as Emily fixed her windswept hair in the mirror. “It looks fine, Emily; don’t stress,” she stated.

Emily offered a small smile instead of a thanks, subconsciously hoping the gesture sufficed. “Let’s head inside,” she said, looking away from JJ, feeling slightly uncomfortable by the fact that their teasing and banter had stopped momentarily.

The two women were sitting across from each other in a booth inside the restaurant. They were already eating their meals and making small talk with each other.

“Thanks for coming to dinner. I would’ve been fine coming alone, but I appreciate you coming with me,” JJ said sincerely, thinking about how well her first day of work had gone. It made her happy that she’d made at least one friend already; she truly thought she’d be fending for herself for at least a couple of weeks until she’d settle in.

A feeling of unease rose in Emily’s chest; she wasn’t used to the softness JJ was displaying. Not just because it was from her; in general, Emily either kept things comical or kept her distance; there was no in-between. “Like I said, I was hungry,” she taunted, bringing the tone back to a realm she was more familiar with.

JJ’s lips curled into a smirk, rolling her eyes. She continued to eat her food, the conversation returning back to a casual, comfortable flow.