#her name being that long and complicated kills me every time

[read-write-thrive]

hey dbda fan artists heat me out: we have the boys in modern clothes, but how about the girls in the boys’ period clothing???

Crystal as full 80s ska punk and Niko as 1910s aesthetic (could go the American/British school girl route ig but I think it would be more fun to put her in Japanese clothing of the era !!!) would go so hard

[starry-bi-sky]

finally giving fem danyal her own au and fulfilling my 'danny is an animal whisperer' agenda at the same time: mother of monsters danyal 2.0

i say "2.0" because TECHNICALLY 'mother of monsters danyal' is an au I made back in June for Dark fem!Danyal (who I promptly named Layal). However, I haven't posted much for her yet, and I like the "mother of monsters" premise too much to leave it only to Layal. Plus Danyal in that au was going to become the mother of monsters anyway, just with significantly less world domination and mass extinction.

'Animal whisperer' Danny has been something I've been thinking about since my latest DP 'wolfpack au' post and it's! So fun to think about, and who no better to assign the idea to than Danyal Al Ghul? Who comes from a family infamously known for their love of animals and nature?

Fem Danyal is just purely self-indulgent. *gestures wildly at her* i just lomvb,,, her,,,, I've only really mentioned her in context of the 'Things in Threes' au/my first Danyal al Ghul au with the facial scar, but she's!!! I love her. She deserves her own au <33

So kill three birds with one stone! Make a post about it.

Anyways, Danny has a large lair. Similar to cult leader danyal, her lair is a giant mountain region resembling nanda parbat with a big temple/palace-like area built into the mountain. It's large, it's overflowing with natural flora, with its own mini-floating islands hovering over some areas, and it's also completely empty.

Danny takes one look at her lair upon first meeting, -- noting that it looked relatively smaller from the outside -- and promptly, with the elegance of an Al Ghul, goes "What the hell??" Because yes, while she does enjoy her own solitude and privacy, this is a bit ridiculous.

For heaven's sake, there's even a massive lake in there! What's she going to do with all this space? Can she make it any smaller? Why is it so big in the first place? This looks borderline like one of the mega-islands!

She finds out later that apparently, the amount of ectoplasm a ghost has can have an effect on the size of their lair. And since she has such a large core, her lair reflects that. Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff, it's bigger on the inside so it doesn't take up "too much space" on the outside. Don't worry about it too much.

Danyal isn't totally opposed to having such a large lair, she's just... a bit baffled by it. It feels like so much wasted space is all. All this flora and no fauna to enjoy it with. It's practically eerie.

She decorates her temple-palace area, transforming rooms to match her needs as she sees fit. In the center of the inner gardens is a massive tree that she likes to climb, with twisting, winding branches. Sam and Tucker have honorary rooms, even if they can't safely leave the specter speeder for long periods of time, even with proper safety equipment. So does Jazz. Ali (Dani) has one too, but he can actually use that one, and Danny brought him to her lair so he could decorate it himself.

She has a personal garden, but for the most part she lets the flora exist as it is. Too much space to cultivate it en masse anyways.

Skip to a few weeks later, on her next visit to Clockwork. She developed a habit of going to see him semi-regularly just because. She enjoys his wisdom, and he has a lot of stories to tell, and when he's not being the cryptic and esoteric timekeeper, he's a bit goofy.

(pushing my dadwork agenda here,,, i think Danny deserves to go 'hey, Lord Clockwork, do you want me to buy you something' while she's at walmart, only to receive a singular glowing sticky note that says 'cucumber gatorade'.)

(She insists on referring to him with his proper titles even for the most mundane of things because it's proper, but Clockwork sees a future where she eventually calls him "Cee" and by all things in existence is he determined to get there. Anyways,,,)

On her next visit to Clockwork, just as she is about to leave, Clockwork stops her and goes; "Ah, I have something for you. Hold out your hands."

Danny does as such, and Clockwork doesn't give out things often, so her curiosity has spiked to the highest levels. He turns away from her for a moment, using his staff to summon whatever it is he needs, and when he turns around.

He drops a fish into her hands. Granted, a fish in a small glass tank. But a fish nonetheless. A small one, roughly about the size of her finger, with a blue-black, eel-shaped body and four sets of glowing eyes. She can see thin, almost translucent, but spiny fins down its back and the start of bioluminescent markings. It's swimming around in circles in its small container.

"Lord Clockwork." Danyal says all too calmly.

"Yes, Danyal?"

"What is this?"

"That is an adolescent leviathan, Danyal." She’s transfixed onto the tank, but she doesn’t need to see Clockwork’s face to hear the smile he’s stifling.

The myriad of emotions that runs through her all at once threatens to overwhelm her, and she can’t tell if the feelings are negative or positive. So she carefully closes her eyes to breathe in through her nose.

“Clockwork.”

“Ah, I see you’ve dropped formalities.”

She ignores that.

“Why have you given me an adolescent leviathan?”

She's expecting the trickster to look amused when she opens her eyes. Instead, he just looks endeared. "I know you're fond of animals," he says, "and you always look amazed when you come across an animal of the realms. So I thought you might enjoy taking care of the young beast, it's mother is dead so it has no one to care for it."

Oh.

"But, if you don't like it," Clockwork's hands reach out for the tank, "I can simply take it back--"

Danyal shifts the tank out from his reach and hugs it possessively. "I never said that. How do I care for it?"

And so clockwork gives her a list, and when Danyal returns to her lair, she sets up a large tank in her room for the leviathan to swim in -- it's much too small for the lake right now, she thinks. She'll feel better if it's somewhere she can find it. She names him Suhā.

Suhā grows quickly, and by the end of the mortal month she transforms one of the rooms into a large pond for him to swim around in. He's a very loyal beast, recognizing her as it's mother of some kind. Danyal takes great care ensuring that her beastie gets quality care, and Suhā swims to the surface to see her when he senses her in the room.

It spirals from there. Somehow, Pandora catches wind that Clockwork gave her a leviathan, and so the next time Danyal visits the Greater Athens, she gives her a baby chimera. It's eyes are still sealed shut, Danyal can't bring herself to say no. She names the little beastie Firas.

Frostbite hears about it too, and not to be outdone, gives her an animal she's never even heard of. Infinite-realms born, apparently. A fox-like creature with two small horns like an impala, four eyes, and tall legs. The name isn't something she's quite sure how to write down, and she's positive that her friends won't be able to comprehend it. She names her Eira.

Getting the three of them used to each other was... interesting. Suhā tried to eat Firas when Danyal first introduced the two, and they've hated each other ever since. Firas and Eira are seemingly getting along. Her island already feels full enough with the three of them on it.

Of course, that's not the end of it. With her luck, she begins stumbling across other monsters. Realms-borne or otherwise. An injured hydra in the Grecian islands that, through lots of trial and error, Danyal is able to rehabilitate and heal. It routinely comes to visit her afterwards.

A griffin with a broken wing that she moves permanently to the island that likes to keep to itself, but tends to come down when she's near. It gets along best with Firas.

A panther-like monster from the Shades Woods that had six legs and three tails, with ends that reminded her of a venus flytrap. It stuck around the heavy foliage and she can only make out where it was when she saw its golden eyes reflect.

She befriends a young indrik with its leg injured, and much like the hydra it follows her back to her island, and stays there in the mountains. It comes out when she's alone, much like her other beasts.

She receives two more leviathan -- one from clockwork, and one she finds herself while exploring the deeper and darker recesses of the Ghost Zone. It was huddled against the carcass of its mother, and she managed to befriend and get close enough to it to bring it back to her island. Suhā is fully grown by then, with a head bigger than Danyal herself and he still likes to stick her head out of the water for nuzzles when she's near.

He's not very happy with his new siblings, but he's not trying to eat them when she's not looking. So she calls it a win in her book.

And it's not just large beasts either; smaller animals begin popping up when she's not looking. Bird-like creatures and small mammals, and she swears she saw a doe (or something resembling a doe) grazing in the forest while she was walking by.

She takes back with her a lone snake egg once, and it grows so big it wraps around her island and sleeps with its massive head on the mountain beside the temple, like some smaller breed of Jörmungandr.

And on and on it goes. Some of the beasts she comes across never step foot onto her island, some of them follow her back, while others she has to carry back. Not all of the ones that follow her stay, and Danny rehabilitates the injured and releases them when they're fully healed.

It's hectic, and busy, and frankly she loves it. Some of her rehabilitated beasts return to visit her, or to have their children somewhere on the island, or whatever it is they need to do.

She becomes a bit infamous for it. She goes to visit Dorathea once, and as she's walking through the streets she can hear some of the denizens whispering while she walks past.

"Is that her?"

"Her highness' friend? Yes--"

"--that's the one--"

"--Mother of monsters--"

Danny's not sure how to feel about that.

Although, she can't say she's opposed.

Danyal Al Ghul, Mother of monsters, raiser of beasts. It has a nice ring to it.

[okwonyo]

✴︎ LET ME LOVE YOU.

PREC𝒾S ⠀⟡​⠀​ seven minutes in heaven with your ex boyfriend.

( 엔하이픈 희승 ) ୨୧ f .. r 1800 university au slight angst fluff exes to lovers getting back together ── flirting heavy make out skinship use of profanity ⠀ ｡｡ ⠀ recue𝒾l

ˊᗜˋreblogs&feebacks。C𝑙𝑖CK

DED𝑖CATED to ✶ to my puppy riri @isoobie mwah 🎀

a good portion of your life decisions has to be rethinked. half of the said portion needs to be modified, or even, destroyed with your bare hands.

starting with the one that let you here in the first place; agreeing to go to your friend’s party. leading you to end up in the middle of young adults drenched in sweat added to the scent of pure alcohol and other substances, loud music buzzing all the way to your brain, the ground vibrating as bodies jump up and down along the beat. not that you are shaming anyone ─ it is not as if you weren’t on the dance floor as well. vibing to the music after one of your friends dragged you to it with her, you bumped into a few people you could recognize the face or name’s first letter of. some you knew way better but decided to ignore until you were ready to face.

without even realizing, the simple fact of letting yourself loose around your friends made you stay at the party, that you were originally planning on staying for one hour to, much longer. as all your favorite songs were playing on the speakers, you didn’t even notice most of the people leaving. then when you did, the couch was too comfortable to get up just yet and quickly a bunch of people gathered around you until forming a full circle with you in it.

the second decision you should have made was leaving as soon as you saw a guy that you can’t reckon the name or existence of finishing his bottle of beer eagerly before putting it flat on the center of all of you. not because seven minutes in heaven is a silly game, although it is, there is a more important reason you should have avoided being in this circle or this party as a whole.

now, the bottle landed on you, heeseung being the one who spinned it in the first place. you find yourself trapped in a ridiculous closet with your ex boyfriend. which you haven’t seen in the flesh since he left korea during a whole year. and no, not even when he came back three months ago.

(not because you resented him. most likely because you were too nervous to confront him about your relationship’s current situation.

everything was too complicated, acting as if he was your ex boyfriend made your heart lighter and slowly became a reality as the months passed by.)

you could practically hear the grin growing on his face as you walked into the small piece, you wanted to kill him when he opened the door for you.

arms crossing themselves under your chest, you watched heeseung close the door behind him. his grin being ten times bigger than when your eyes met in the circle, “so─”

he got cut off as soon as he started talking, “we are not,” you emphasize on the last word. “kissing”

he fakes a saddened sound and a little pout, it doesn’t last long, though. his beautiful smile is back on his lips when the thought that you saw right through him runs in his mind because of course, he was ready to for it. he steps in front of you, “why?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. his voice is deep and slowly goes into a whisper, “are you getting shy? we already did that plenty of times before.”

the sound of his voice solely makes you court-circuit. you can feel your whole face getting red at the memory of his hot mouth on yours, the way he sighs in your mouth after a long time being away, his tongue traveling inside of it, his hands all over your body like he wants to make sure every part of it is still there, you remember it well. your eyes shot back and forth between his lips and his eyes ─ panic quickly settingin.

heeseung seems to notice your state of mind because he tilts his head to the other side, his smile turns into a playful smirk and he cocks one of eyebrows. a hum leaves his chest and vibrates in his throat as his mouth is still closed, silently asking you for an answer.

you cringe when you finally make your heart beat normally again, “we─we are exes!”

instead of ‘we haven’t seen each other for more than a year’, because it would be too weird, this is the only excuse you can come up with.

“is that all?” he chuckles, he takes another step towards you. for a second; he seems hurts, you brush it off. you furrow your eyebrows deeper at his movements as well as at his question. your excuse should be enough, alas it seems like it isn’t, “are you going out with anyone else these days?”

his body was beginning to be too close to yours for you to keep eye contact. you huffed anyway, as if you weren’t too busy mourning your semi-failed relationship with him to fall for somebody else. his stares is insistent on you and you can’t help but drag your gaze anywhere but on him.

you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding, “no, i am not,” there is no reason, for why you didn’t just tell him it was none of his business, not one you can wrap your head around at least. maybe you are not so petty anymore or maybe you don’t want heeseung to think you are in a relationship.

heeseung head falls, looking at his shoes. he stayed silent for a worrying amount of seconds, so much that you looked up to his face just to see him fighting a smile from spreading all over his face. he nodded while fighting for what seemed to be his life, slowly going back to looking at you. his tongue poked his cheek, despite all his efforts, he was still smiling.

he steps closer to you again, now you have to tilt your head up to look at him, “good,” he affirmed with full confidence, like the way he carried himself in front of you, “you don’t need anyone else,” there rest of the sentence is unspoken but still written all over his pretty face: other than me.

these simple words make all your control over your mind vanish. all the thoughts in your head vanishes in a few seconds, getting quickly replaced by the sugarcoated words of the man in front of you, who keeps on coming impossibly closer to you. he slowly is cornering you between the small closet’s wall and himself — before you can touch it, you almost trip over your feet as you walk backwards, his strong hand hold your lower back to prevent you from falling. your hands hold onto his biceps, you can feel his skin under your palms, your fingertips sinking in the muscles beneath them.

your heart is racing so much that you can feel it in your feet, warmth floods through all your body and you feel embarrassed by the thought of how red your face must be at this exact moment.

“are you okay?” he asks you gently. and hell, you could make a mess of his mouth right now.

you only press your lips together and nod, letting out a weak sound of ‘mhm’. then you just stare at him for a while, your chest rises and falls, your breath is heavy, the tension is building and heeseung is very close from combusting, you know it. however, he doesn’t lean in just yet, he wants you to make it ─ he wants to make sure you want it.

he speaks up again but his words are barely registered by you, “the only reason you have been feeling alone is because i wasn’t there,” nodding your head, your gaze too focused on his biceps. “i have been feeling the same as well,” he whispers, your thumbs rub against his skin, your mind is empty. he tucks a hair strand behind your hair, “but i’m here now,” he assures. “hm?”

you nod, although you didn’t really listen. there is only one option left.

your hand goes up to his shoulder, brushing against his neck to the back of it before reaching his hair. you lean him down as you put yourself on your tiptoes, heeseung lets you do whatever you want.

softness closes over your mouth. as usual, heeseung sighs into it, as if he has been craving this for months, and maybe he did. you could feel your body getting weaker. his arms hugging your waist gently the same way yours hug his neck ─ you both pulled each other as close as you could. your mouth fell open and he gently licked into your mouth.

he kisses you softly, carefully and kindly. heeseung always kisses you like that when he has missed you. his hands grip into your shirt as if he doesn’t want to you go away from him, bringing you closer and closer as the kiss goes on, he wants to melt into you.

he pulls back quickly, feeling himself losing it, “i missed you so much,” he tells you. his breath brushes right against your mouth. you can only look at him, not knowing what to say, with your gorgeous eyes and flushed cheeks. he whines, “don’t look at me like that,” and his tongue goes back to working in your mouth.

he wants to devour you.

you mind completely clouds over when heeseung tilts his head to the side in hope to get better access to your mouth, and his wish is given to him in a silver plate. you let out a song you are too embarrassed about to not throw into the bin of your deepest and darkest memories. you release a shuddered breath against his mouth when his hand drags itself from your waist to your nape, sending you chills through it. heeseung’s hand on the back of your head made your lips press even more against his.

you don’t know how long heeseung kisses you breathless but suddenly he slowly leans back up, his grip on your waist getting tighter. you slowly gets lifted off the floor for a hug-kiss. the joy bubbles up in your chest, threatens to burst out off your chest, and heeseung has to stop the kiss because you are smiling too hard.

you hug him tightly, hiding your face in his shoulder while his lips travel on your neck, leaving kisses here and there while you giggle. you missed him so much.

for sure, you could stay like this forever and you would if it wasn’t for the loud banging against the door. the seven minutes are over, still heeseung kisses you ─ a few quick pecks before putting you back on the floor.

he stares at you for a moment, a curse gently leaves his mouth and weirdly because it’s him, it doesn’t sound so be, “you are so pretty.”

you fight the urge to roll your eyes. feeling so soft and flustered, suddenly even more shy than earlier.

heeseung dragged you out of the closet with his hand in yours. you put a lot of effort in avoiding eye contact with your friends, which happened to be the majority of the people present here. with an arm hugging your waist when you both reached the couch, heeseung made you both sit on it. his arm lay heavy on your shoulders while he swooped in to kiss you softly on the cheek.

everyone groans loudly. you are both so back.

ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open !

(..◜ᴗ◝..) thank u for reading ! ^^

[lila-went-missing]

I saw you wanted req's for Clarisse !! and I had a cute (well I thought it was cute) Hear me out !! You're Percy's older sister but you've been at camp for a few years so you and Clarisse have had more time to talk and get closer, sooo coincidentally once Percy came and after he and Clarisse had their fall out she finalized the relationship (not to be petty but just to get under his skin a little bit.. but also she didn't wanna do something to Percy and have you upset with her and ruin the progress y'all made.) But !! Percy only found out when you guys were eating at your table and Clarisse came by and didn't say anything to him, she kissed you but as she was walking away she muttered a half-assed apology to Percy. Bro's dumbfounded but you break the news to him, and as the loving brother he is and the fact you and Clarisse have known each other it's only fair he happy for you !! (You keep him safe from her.) SORRYYY this is so long but Clarisse makes me giggle, I hope you're having an amazing day !

I've been so excited to write this but I'm also such a procrastinator so sorry if this took a long time to come out. You're literally so sweet I hope you have an amazing day.

Warnings: Mentions of blood and wounds, it gets slightly suggestive once but nothing happens, cursing i think, I'm not going to lie to you this sucks especially the ending.

This took forever because I'm the medically expensive one in the family and I've been in and out of doctors offices for over a month now. This isn't proofread, I trust grammarly and move on. I love you all so much, enjoy my lovelies.

When the Waves Come In

Being a forbidden kid was anything but easy. Monsters could smell you more than others. The gods hated you. Trouble and tragedy seemed to track you down wherever you went, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. The only perks? Having a cabin to yourself and being slightly more powerful than other demigods. If you were being honest, that wasn't really a fair trade.

Not to mention, the other demigods at Camp Half-Blood either hated or praised you. There was no in between. You were claimed only seven months after arriving at camp, this made a lot of unclaimed kids unhappy with you. Like it was your fault that Poseidon was kind of proud of you once? It's not like he's bothered to reach out since then.

Over the last three years of living at camp, you've made some decent friends. You got along pretty well with most of the Hephaestus kids, Beckendorf immediately taking a liking to you for your stubbornness. The Apollo kids liked you, they even let you help lead archery classes. But there was one person that you were closer with than anyone else. Clarisse. Your Clarisse.

You weren't friends. You were so much more than that. But at the same time, you weren't quite together either. It was very complicated. However, there was one thing you were both certain of, you like being near each other, and hated being separated. Oftentimes, she would sit at your table during meals, Chiron choosing to turn a blind eye. You would sneak her dessert every time she lost her privileges. You were her girl, that much, everyone knew.

When a new kid by the name Percy Jackson showed up at camp, you didn't think much of it. New kids arrived all the time, 90% of them never being claimed and getting left to rot by their godly parents in the Hermes cabin. It was sad, but it was the truth. You learned to live with it.

You assumed the same would happen to him, until you saw it. The horn that once belonged to the Minotaur. Grover claimed he had killed it with its own horn. Everyone believed it except Clarisse. You wanted to not believe it, but how else would he have the horn?

Of course, Clarisse being Clarisse, she had to prove that he was a fraud. The first time she did this, she was blasted by water into a wall, effectively shattering a mirror with the impact. She came to you, of course, a bruise forming over her stomach and chest. You were honestly surprised that she didn’t some internal bleeding deal going on.

“I just want him to own up to being a liar!” She ranted. “Is that too much to ask? I mean, he’s 12, he’s like 4’11, he has no muscle what so ever! How am I expected to believe that he, of all people, killed the Minotaur?” She paced back and forth over the floor of your cabin for what felt like an eternity.

“I mean, this kid shows up out of literally no where, and is getting all the glory in the world. Is everyone here really that blind? There’s no way he managed to actually kill it, yet he’s getting all the praise? How does that add up?”

You stood from your place on your bed, walking towards her and placing your hands on her shoulders. Your hands squeeze gently, trying to ground her.

“Breathe,” you whisper, “I know it sounds highly unlikely. I know you’re pissed, you have every right to be.” Honestly, if the only way you could ever get your father’s attention was through glory and winning fights, even then, seldom getting any acknowledgement whatsoever. You have to admit, you’d be pretty pissed in this situation too. I mean the only thing you could do to get anything, even an admittance that you exist, is immediately taken over by this random kid no one’s heard of? Yeah, she’s rightfully pissed.

“But I need you to breathe before you have a nervous breakdown, honey.” Your hands rub up and down her arms, feeling her muscles slowly relax.

“I wouldn’t have had a nervous breakdown.” She mutters.

“I know, but I might’ve.” Knowing her, the way she is behind closed doors, she most definitely would have. But you let her believe that she would be okay.

“It’s just not fair you know? He hasn’t done anything. Even if he did kill the Minotaur, there’s no way he wasn’t running purely on adrenaline and rage. He wouldn’t be able to do that again if he tried. He’s getting all of this praise, and for what? Existing? Being, not even a man, a boy?” Her voice is much much quieter this time, barely making it to a whisper. If it wasn’t for your proximity you probably wouldn’t have heard it.

“I know, I know, love.” You can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around her. “Just think, in a week or two, people will probably forget all about it. He’ll go back to being a regular 12 year old, nothing special.” Realistically, you know that sounds kind of bad, but what else are you supposed to say to her.

There was a part of you, no matter how small that part may be, that knew that wasn’t going to happen. Most demigods aren’t able to do something like that and live through it. But you knew he wasn’t like most demigods.

You knew he would get claimed, soon, most likely. From the moment you laid eyes on him it’s like you could feel it. What happened in the bathrooms only confirmed your suspicions. While you didn’t say anything to the girl in front of you, you knew who he was.

He was another forbidden kid. Not just a forbidden kid though, your brother. A son of Poseidon.

***

Capture the flag was the next day. From the moment you woke up you could feel the energy surging through the air. This was one of the most anticipated events of the summer. The only thing you really won was a party and bragging rights. I guess to camp full of the competitive people you’d ever meet, that was all you needed.

It was definitely all Clarisse needed. She loved to win and hated to lose, a trait she inherited from her father. And she’d be dammed if she was going lose another game of Capture the Flag.

That’s why you’re so confused when she tells you that she’s changing the plan. She never changes the plan, finding solace in a good strategy.

You understood more when she explained what she was doing. Revenge on the new kid for blasting her with toilet water. When you put it like that, it sounds logical. But knowing Clarisse, and knowing what you know, you can’t just go along with it.

“Clar, I really don’t think this is a good idea.” You both paced around each other in your cabin, similar to last night.

“Are you seriously telling me that what he did was okay?” Her voice raises with every word.

“No! I just- I have a bad feeling! I don’t want you to get hurt!”

“I won’t! I can handle myself, you know this!”

“I know! But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry about you!” Your heart beats out of your chest with every step you take towards each other.

“I can’t believe this! You really don’t think I can do this!” Before you can even formulate a response, she’s grabbing her stuff and walking out the door.

You follow her of course, yelling her name, but it’s no use. She doesn’t turn around. She doesn’t even pause in her steps. You watch her disappear behind the door of cabin five.

The door to cabin three shuts as you slide down it. Your head hits the wood as you lean back, sure to give you a headache later. You can’t find it in yourself to care though. A tear slips down your cheek. Then another. Then another.

You know it’s a bad idea. She will go after revenge. And she will get hurt. But you also know that there’s literally nothing you can say to her. You want to, but it’ll only make things worse. That's the thing about Clarisse, when she gets her mind set on something, there's no changing her mind. All you can do is patch her up afterwards.

The red team has kept the flag near the water ever since you were claimed. They made sure that you were never far from it, blasting anyone in the face if they got too close for comfort. You weren't going to lie, it was potentially one of your favorite things to do.

So, as per usual, you were patrolling the edge of the water. No one had really gotten close enough, which was very disappointing. Until the new kid ran out of the woods and immediately tripped and fell on his face. Your whole body straightens immediately, muscles tensing. You pull out your sword and move towards him. He probably doesn't want a fight but it's better safe than sorry.

He had a few cuts littering his arms and cheeks. His clothes were dirty and he was now covered in wet pebbles. You could tell that he was disoriented and panicked. You were about to approach him when one of your sort of girlfriend's brothers ran out of the woods after him. Miles. One of her sisters followed suit, Trinity, you think her name was. Dear Hades they're actually going through with it.

Clarisse comes barreling out of the woods after them. Before you can even think about jumping in the sound of metal on metal fills your ears. Swords and shields clash. A spear jabbed at his chest. Her spear. You wanted to get between them, help him, protect him. Even if he didn't know it yet, he was.

But you couldn't. Everything moved so fast you didn't have time to react before they were all rolling over the ground. The water fed off of your emotions, grabbing her siblings and ripping them away from the fight. But it was too late. You saw the spark come from in between them. You heard the wood snap. Half of the spear was in her hands, the other half in his as his body rolled with the momentum.

It felt like time froze for those few seconds. The water was still. The wind stopped blowing, birds stopped chirping. The air around you seemed to disappear. You couldn't breathe. All noises cut out as her guttural scream ripped through the air, lasting for what felt like an eternity.

She ran forward, grabbing the front of his armor and jerking him forward. The conch blew, the blue team ran across the river carrying the flag. She ran off into the woods, it didn't take long for you to follow behind her, grabbing the pieces of the spear as you went.

Before you fully made it away, you saw the trident above his head. That's the moment you realized that you should've placed bets. You would've made bank, but that's not really your concern right now.

You find her in her cabin, facing away from the door, sitting on the edge of her bed. If you look close enough you can see the way her shoulders shake. You place the pieces of her spear on a table near her bed before kneeling behind her. Your arms wrap around her front, pulling her in.

Her back rests against your front, her head tucking back into your neck. You feel the way her shoulders tremble and shake in your gentle hold. For a long time, she doesn't say anything. A few tears slip down your cheeks that you don't mention. You don't push her. It's very rare she lets anything like this happen. She feels like showing these kinds of emotions would make her weak. It didn't matter how many times you assured her otherwise. Sometimes you can't change a person's thoughts when they're the only thing that person has ever known.

After what feels like forever, she speaks. Her voice comes out shaky. It's the kind of soft you only hear late in the night after sneaking into her cabin.

"That spear- it was the only-." A sob escapes her throat and you can feel the way it moves through her whole body, consuming her completely.

"I know honey.." You whisper in her ear. Your arms subconsciously tighten around her muscular frame.

"It was the only proof that he could ever love me." You swear you can feel your heart shatter. You've never liked her dad, but even so, you knew how much that spear meant to her. Her fathers traits were very prominent in her from the moment she was born. Her anger issues kept her in trouble, never getting help. Never being accepted. Her father was the only hope she would ever have until she met you. But even then she was so terrified of losing you...

"It'll be okay.. I promise." Your words a hidden promise of protection.

You're not sure what happens that night but you know something changes. Her arms wrapped around you a little tighter. Her breaths came a little deeper, more relaxed. Your finger over more of her scars, tracing them with the delicacy that was only ever seen in the hands of the greatest artists. When you thought about it though, she was the only work of her art that would ever be worthy of such care.

When you wake the light hits the two of you in a new way. As if Apollo made Helios shine it on the two of you alone so he could write the greatest love hymns that would ever be seen by mankind.

Her siblings don't question your presence. They never do. Why would they when it's so rare the children of Ares are able to find such peace. So rare they can find such a level of acceptance within another person.

For a while you sit there and watch the golden light dance across her bronze skin. The way it shines around her face, the face you've kissed so many times. The face you long to kiss right now. You don't sneak out this morning, instead staying curled into her side. The beating of her heart threatening to lull you back into a peaceful slumber.

Then the conch blows for breakfast, causing her to stir. Her eyes flutter open, turning into pools of golden honey as the light swims in the sweet waters. A small smile creeps onto her lips as her eyes meet yours.

"Hi." You whisper. Your hand strokes over her cheek.

"Hi, baby." Her voice is as soft as the way she looks at you. Before you know it she's leaning forward and placing her lips on yours. It's the first time but it doesn't feel like that. It just feels... right. Something about it is so perfect. The way your lips fit together like long lost pieces of a puzzle.

"What was that for?" Your lips remain parted when you pull away. "I just, wanted to kiss you." She mutters in reply. A blush covers the expanse of her cheeks. You never thought you'd see her so flustered. "Can you do it again? Kiss me again?" She smiles and nods at your words before leaning in and pressing her lips back against yours.

They're soft and warm as they slide against yours. It feels like coming home after a long day of training. Your favorite person right in front of you with open arms.

When she pulls away, she's smiling wider than you've ever seen her. "I really should have done that a lot sooner." You can't help but laugh at her words. "I've only been waiting for four years!"

"Why don't we make up for that?" She leans forward, resting her hand on her waist and pulling your body against hers. A chuckle leaves your throat.

"Maybe later, right now, I really want breakfast." You peck her lips once more before rolling out of bed. "Come on!"

It's not long before you're both dressed and making your way to the dining pavilion. As much as you would like to sit with her, she's already on thin ice with Chiron. You take your time getting your food and burning it, not wanting to be separated until absolutely necessary. Eventually though, you have to part ways and join your newly-claimed brother at the Poseidon table.

"I'm surprised you're not more banged up if I'm being honest." You say as you take your seat. There's not a single scratch on him.

"Annabeth kind of shoved me into the water, next thing I know everything is healed." He answers, you can tell he's nervous knowing your connection with Clarisse.

"Perks of being Poseidon's kid, that and our cabin is a lot less crowded." He laughs lightly at your words.

"You're telling me! It's nice not sleeping on the floor." The both of you go quiet for a while, eating in comfortable silence. The breeze is cool against your skin, a nice reminder of the weather barrier. When you look up, Percy is looking behind you with pure fear in his eyes. You expect to be greeted by a monster when you turn, instead you're greeted by your girlfriend.

You can't help but chuckle at the look on Percy's face. You really can't help but laugh at his face when she leans down and presses a kiss against your cheek. "I'll see in training later, right babe?"

"Wouldn't miss it." You kiss her jaw before she turns and jogs off towards the arena.

"She- you-" He looks utterly dumbfounded as what he just witnessed. "What just happened?"

"She's my girlfriend, Percy."

His mouth drops open with the most surprised look you've ever seen. "Oh."

"Is that an issue?" You don't really care if it is, but you ask anyway. "No, no I just, didn't take her as the type to really date anyone." He answers.

"Most people don't, I'll do my best to keep her from pulverizing you." A laugh escapes you before you take your leave.

Life didn't seem too bad.You had a new brother, you were dating the girl you'd been in love with for years. You might even be able to convince her to leave him alone. You'll get her spear fixed as a surprise birthday gift.

You can feel everyone's surprised eyes on you as you walk out. There's no doubt the entire camp knows by now, and there's no doubt that a billion rumors will be floating around by dinner time. But there's a part of that just, can't find it in you to care. How can you when you have everything you've wanted right there in front of you.

[moody-alcoholic]

Decisions

MDNI +18 content

Summary: 4.3k words. Ghoap x Reader, throuple. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe.

CW: MDNI +18 content Smut, PiV sex, blowjob, handjob, voyeurism (kinda), cum swallowing, cum play (kinda, licking cum of a persons body), cum sharing, slight over stimulation. PTSD, choking, PTSD induced attack, mentions of nightmares, hurt/comfort, mental health, descriptions of injuries, death, use of weapons, assault, Physical violence, kidnapping, mentions of drowning, mentions of suicide, murder. Wow what a total 180 of content warnings amirite…

Previous parts - masterlist - next part

Enjoy <3

“Are you sure about this?” Price asks as he pulls the car into the empty car park by the river. 

“I hurt her Price, I could have killed her.” Simon replies.

“You didn’t though, I can take care of this.” Price says sympathetically. Simon shakes his head.

“It has to be me.” He says pulling his mask down and getting out the car.   —————————— 

36 hours earlier. 

You picked Johnny up from the hospital with Simon. He was more then happy to leave after a week of being on the ward. Some complication with his liver, he wasn’t happy being told he couldn’t go home a day after major surgery. Conveniently it was the same day you had to get your stitches removed. You were going to have a nice scar on your cheek, but it had healed well and at least it wouldn’t re-open every time you ate. 

“I think it looks hot.” Johnny said as you came back into his room with the bandages off for the first time. You shake your head at him helping Simon pack his bag while you sat down for the long wait for the discharge. Johnny was almost skipping to the car insisting on driving which Simon wasn’t too happy with, especially since it was dark now. Simon agreed though, sitting in the front to watch him, his hand nervously tapping on his thigh.

When you get to the apartment Johnny is all over you and Simon. Taking any opportunity to touch or kiss you, his hands slipping up your shirt, on Simon’s neck as he called the lift.  

“Johnny you have bullet wounds.” You say while he’s kissing you all over your face and neck. 

“They’ll still be there when we’re done.” He says. You laugh as you stumble into the flat, Simon guiding you as Johnny is almost picking you up in his arms. 

“I’ve been waiting a week for this, dreaming about this.” He says between kisses. You can’t help but smile as Johnny half drags you to the bedroom. 

“Simon you coming?” Johnny asks you turn back to see Simon carrying Johnny’s hospital bag, you smile at him over Johnny’s shoulder. 

“You really should take it easy.” He calls.

“I’ve been taking it easy for a week, I’ve missed you two.” Johnny buries his head back in your neck. You don’t mind letting him take you through to the bedroom. 

“Will you lie down at least. I don’t want you doing anything crazy.” You say as he lets you go and jumps on the bed. 

“Simon get in here she’s being mean!” Johnny calls. Simon appears in the doorway smiling. You crawl on the bed kneeling over him. 

“I’m not being mean.” You scoff sitting down on him you can feel his hard cock through his pants, you almost want to grind up against him. 

“You’re being so mean ‘cause I’m still clothed and you’re sat on top of me.” Johnny says with a cheeky grin on his face. His hands squeezing your thighs. You hear Simon put Johnny’s bag down behind you as you turn to look at him. He walks up to the bed his hand resting on the small of your back.

You turn back to Johnny as he squeezes your thighs before you know it his arms are round your back as he flips you over in the bed. Now he’s on top of you. You let out a yelp as your head hits the pillows and you can feel his weight on top of you. You hear Simon sigh as he grabs Johnny’s shoulder pulling him off you so you’re laid side-by-side. 

“Take it easy Johnny or I’ll strap you to the bed.” Simon says.

“Is that a promise?” Johnny says winking. 

“You’re a menace.” You laugh resting your head on his chest and rubbing his stomach. You can feel the bandages under his shirt, the ones he said you would change for him when the nurse asked if he knew how to do it. You look up at Simon who’s standing at the end of the bed. 

“Maybe I should leave you two.” You say your eyes flicking between them. 

“Don’t be silly lass.” Johnny says. Sitting up in the bed a bit and throwing his arm over your shoulder pulling you up to his face. 

“Si, c’mon.” Johnny says gesturing for Simon to get in the bed behind you. Simon smiles walking round the bed as you hear him take his belt off. Johnny presses his face to yours humming in your mouth, your hand rubbing his stomach. You feel Simon scoot up behind you pressing his back to you. His hands slipping up your shirt to your breasts, you moan in Johnny’s mouth enjoying Simon’s hands squeezing your nipples.

Your hand slips from Johnny’s chest to his pants as you manoeuvre your body for Simon to have easier access to you. His mouth is licking your neck, his lips tickling each spot. Your hand is deep in Johnny’s pants now rubbing his bulge as he hums. You lean back looking in his eyes glossed over as you rub his cock in your hand. He’s almost trying to move and shift his body closer to you.

“He said he’ll tie you to the bed.” You joke with Johnny. 

“I’m okay with that.” Johnny breathes his hand stroking your face. 

“I’ll move.” You smile shifting your body so your head is aligned with his hips. Simon moves too taking the opportunity to be closer to Johnny as well. Laying next to him where you once where so he has easy access to Johnny’s body. You know Simon has missed him, spending as much time as he can at the hospital, visiting twice a day while you distracted yourself cleaning the flat from top to bottom.

You would visit Johnny in the evenings and sometimes Price came too, giving Johnny updates on what has been going on. Price didn’t know much about what was happening with Jack or the rest of the family. The Met were still scouring through all the stuff they had taken from the house, it was going to take months.

Simon’s hand squeezing your ass pulls you back to reality, you look up at Johnny who’s smiling as Simon nuzzles into his neck. You swing your body right around so you’re crouched over Johnny’s legs your hands pulling his sweat pants and boxers down. Before you have a chance to grab his now freed cock Simon’s hand is there rubbing the bead of precum off the tip with his thumb. You look up at Johnny his eyes glistening as his head flops back on the bed. 

“You really have no patience.” Simon almost growls into Johnny’s neck as he squeezes his hand up and down Johnny’s cock in front of you. It makes you smile, it makes you wet and desperate to have it in your mouth. 

“A week of being surrounded by hot nurses.” Johnny says between breaths. Simon smiles taking his hand away and pushing his thumb into Johnny’s mouth. You take this as an opportunity to move up and take him. You hear him moan as you lick the head, wetting it with your lips before thrusting your mouth down.  

“Easy, almost had my thumb off.” Simon says. You smile taking Johnny as far as you can before you hit your gag reflex. You’re trying not to pay attention the aching in your pussy, to distracted by watching Simon making out with Johnny, who now has his shirt off, somehow.

Simon is running his hand over Johnny’s chest, every now and then pinching his nipples. Each time he squeezes one Johnny twitches in your mouth which makes you go deeper for him. You can hear the kiss getting sloppy as Johnny becomes more needy his hips almost thrusting into you.

Simon rests his hand on Johnny’s stomach to keep him in place. You want him to be inside you, now you’re feeling desperate. You pull off Johnny as he lets out a long frustrated moan. Simon smiles at you as you hop off the bed quickly ditching your clothes, almost too eagerly. Johnny watches you straddle over him realising what you’re about to do, you’ve never seen him smile so big.

His hands grip your thighs as you ease yourself down on him. It feels good, he feels good and your head tips back as you moan bouncing up and down. You start slow making sure you’re not causing him any pain. The noises he's making are enough for your pussy to flutter with each call of your name. He’s almost babbling incoherently, telling you how much of a ‘good girl you're riding him so well’. The praise makes you smile as you look down at him. Simon is still rubbing his chest, kissing his neck.

You see what Johnny has been distracting himself with fisting Simon’s cock with his free hand. Christ thats hot. You bring one of your hands to rub your clit which only makes you move faster as Johnny's free hand squeezes your thigh.

You’re hot and sweaty, you’re close as you press your fingers harder on your clit. Johnny is thrusting his hips, driving himself into you hitting your cervix as you're clenching around him. His nails digging into you now, he must be close too. Simon has stopped kissing Johnny’s neck instead just bucking his hips into Johnny’s hand as his cock twitches. You can hear Simon whispering things in Johnny’s ear as his head tips his back arches.

Simon Presses his stomach down which makes him curse Simon as he cums. You squeeze round him, your fingers rub your pulsing clit as Johnny throbs inside you. You almost don’t even realise Simon’s cum too until you look down seeing his seed all over Johnny’s chest. Simon had moved up in the bed at some point while you were distracted riding Johnny.

You bend down over Johnny in your post orgasm haze licking his chest collecting a tongue full of cum before going over to kiss him. Johnny moans wrapping his arms round you as his tongue licks yours clean. It makes your pussy flutter round his cock as the kiss becomes a desperate sloppy mess. He pulls away moaning from the over stimulation hands gripping your waist. You laugh and get up off of him. 

“That what you needed Johnny?” Simon asks also getting off the bed. 

“Aye.” Johnny says as he lets out a long breath. You smile going into the bathroom to get a towel, you bring it back in and throw it at Johnny so he can clean up. 

“You okay?” Simon asks you as you meet him in the doorway. You smile looking up at him and plant a kiss on his lips. He kisses you back as his hand wraps round your waist. You take a long breath breathing him in. 

“That was nice.” You say smiling. You look over Simon’s shoulder to see Johnny with his eyes closed and the towel covering his stomach. You can’t help but chuckle, gesturing for Simon to look. You hear Simon sigh as he rolls his eyes which makes you chuckle more. 

“Go take a shower, I’ll sort him out.” Simon says kissing your head. You nod turning back to head to the bathroom. 

Simon joins you in the shower which turns into more of a another make out session. Simon has been tense since Johnny has been in the hospital, waking up in the middle of the night, having nightmares. Sometimes you’ll wake up and he’ll be asleep on the sofa or in the other room. Telling you he didn’t want to wake you.

He seemed more relaxed, you let him wash your body, he takes his time by the time when he’s done the heat from the shower has you sleepy. When you get to the bed Johnny is softly snoring so you change then lay up against his back hugging him from behind. Simon gets in behind you his arms resting over you on Johnny’s waist. 

“I love you,” You yawn.

“I love you too.” Simon says kissing your head.            

  —————————— 

You don’t know why but you dream you’re drowning. You’re in the middle of the ocean and something is pulling you down. You keep gasping for air and nothing comes, each time you inhale salty water blocks your nose and mouth. You’re trying to swim up your legs and arms kicking. Each time the pulling gets harder, its getting harder to reach the surface for the pitiful gasps of air. You can’t breathe as you’re pulled under the water into the blackness.

Your eyes fly open, there’s pressure on your chest. It’s Simon towering above you his hands round your neck. He looks angry, your eyes flick around his face. It’s almost like he’s not there, his eyes hollow looking through you. You can’t breathe, Your arm moves to slap Johnny who you’re surprised hasn’t woken up. He groans and you hear him turn as your vision goes fuzzy. 

“Fuck! Simon!” You feel Johnny push him off you with such force he’s thrown off the bed. You gasp for air throwing your body upright, your hand flying to your neck. 

“You okay?” Johnny asks trying to pull your hands away so he can see. You’re confused sucking in gasps of air as you look over as Simon pulling himself off the floor, rubbing the back of his head. 

“What happened?” He says getting up and turning the bedside light on. He blinks looking at the scene before him. All the colour is drained from his face, his expression switches from confused to horror. He backs up hitting the wardrobe behind him. His mouth is moving but words don’t come out then he’s rushing out the room. You hear the bathroom door slam. Johnny’s rubbing your back. You don’t know what to say.

“Let me see.” Johnny says pulling your hand away from your neck you let him, turning to see him tears welling in your eyes. He brushes them away with his thumb. He looks sad, like he’s about to burst into tears too. 

“You okay?” He asks, you nod you don’t know what to say. Johnny swings his legs out of bed you hear him sigh before he gets up.

“Stay here. I’ll talk to him.” Johnny says. You watch as he leaves the room. 

“Si, can I come in?” You hear him say as he knocks on the bathroom door. There’s no reply, you get out of bed hugging your arms as you look through the bedroom door to see Johnny with his hand on the bathroom door handle. 

“Simon, let me in please.” Johnny says, there’s an edge to his voice you can hear him trying really hard not to crack. You walk up next to him gripping his shirt as he lets out a breath. You look up at him and knock on the door. 

“Simon.” Your voice catches in your throat, the door doesn’t have a lock. You want him to know you’re okay. It’s not his fault. You know about this, it’s common with soldiers, you’ve been taught how to deal with things like PTSD, nightmares. It’s part and parcel of the job, especially as a nurse.

You press down on the handle Johnny’s hand is on your back almost like he wants to pull you away. You push the door open slowly Simon’s stood hands braced on the sink his arms tight, knuckles white. You take a step to him feeling Johnny’s hand leave your back. He’s looking down in the sink as you step next to him. You reach out to slowly touch his hand scared he’ll flinch. 

“Simon,” you say quietly, gently squeezing his arm. He lets out a sigh. You place your other hand on his trying to get him to relax, stroking his arm, looping your fingers with him. You can hear the shaking in his breaths. He turns to look at you, his eyes filled with moisture, his eyes flick to your neck as his body turns towards you.

“It’s okay, Simon I’m okay.” You say moving your hands up to his face. Slowly pressing your body against him as he moves away from the sink.     

“Simon, hey look at me.” You say grabbing Simon’s cheeks in your hands, forcing him to look at you. He looks sad, you’ve never seen him like this before, it’s making you feel sad.  

“You’re okay. I’m okay. Johnny he’s always okay.” You press up against him, wrapping your hands around him. You hear Johnny move as Simon wraps his arms round your back. You close your eyes, you can hear his heart-beating rapidly in his chest. 

“You’re okay, I love you you’re okay.” You say into Simon’s chest as you feel him let out a long breath. Feeling his arms wrap round you. 

“You’re okay.” Johnny says kissing Simon’s cheek. You can feel Simon’s heartbeat slow. You squeeze him, Johnny rubs his back standing on his toes. You can hear Johnny whispering in his ear, as you wait for him to calm down. 

You watch as Johnny comes out the bedroom closing the door behind him. You’re sat on the sofa sipping on your drink. Johnny makes his way over and sits next to you. 

“How is he?” You ask, you lean up against him. 

“He’ll be okay. I made him take a sleeping pill, hopefully the rest will do him good.” Johnny says. You let out a sigh. 

“Has this happened before?” You ask. Johnny doesn’t say anything for a second his hand resting on your back.

“Once or twice.” Johnny says. “Usually after something major has happened, like the last week or so. What happened with you and me, Jack being out. He’s not good at talking about his feelings, lets the bottle up like this.” You swallow hard your throat still raw. You’ll be okay, you're more worried about Simon now anyway. 

“He needs to talk to someone.” You say hoping it won’t offend Johnny. 

“I know, but it’s like trying to get water out a rock.” Johnny says sighing. You relax up against him, you’re still tired you don’t know if you’ll sleep but you feel like you should stay by Johnny. Let Simon get some good rest maybe he’ll feel better tomorrow.   

 —————————— 

Simon sleeps until mid day then leaves the flat without saying a word. You can tell Johnny isn’t quite sure what is happening with the way he starts pacing the flat. When he does sit down he’s nervously tapping his foot and playing with his wedding ring. You try to distract him and yourself watching the TV to give you both some background noise. Around 5pm Simon comes back, he looks tired, dark circles under his eyes his hair messy.

He goes over to Johnny in the kitchen and whispers something in his ear. You see Johnny grip his arm turning to look at you then saying something back to Simon you can’t hear. You feel nervous like something bad has happened as Simon steps out the kitchen coming towards you. He stops and you turn round on the sofa to look at him. He bends down and kisses you on the forehead, you look up at him watching his eyes flick to your neck. 

“I’m so sorry.” He says stroking your cheek. You kneel up on the sofa and kiss him, pressing your lips to his as his hands wrap round your back. 

“It’s okay, I’m okay.” You say wrapping your arms round him resting your head in his chest. 

“It’s not okay but I’m going to make it okay.” He says as he lets you go. You look up at him confused. He strokes your cheek looking down at you with his big brown eyes. 

“I’ll be back later, keep Johnny company for me yeah?” He says. You nod as he walks away. Johnny is waiting for him in the hall and he gives Simon a kiss as he throws his jacket on. You look at Johnny frowning, he looks worried. What the hell is Simon planning 

It’s cold, wet, dark typical British weather. Simon takes a long inhale of the last of his cigarette letting it warm his lungs and calm his mind. It will be easier when Price gets here. It will be easier when all this is over. Price didn’t need much convincing when Simon burst into his office early afternoon to explain his plan. Price always understood, Johnny did too but Price understood in a different way.

Jack needed to go, Simon can’t function knowing the person who hurt the people he loves the most is still out there. Could be out there for a very long time. The nightmares had been ramping up, visions of him failing to save you or Johnny. Night after night of horrors, all leading up the the the worst thing Simon could imagine. He flicks his cigarette butt in the river as Price pulls up. He gets in the car in silence as they drive the short drive to the location. 

“Are you sure about this?” Price asks as he pulls the car into the empty car park by the river. 

“I hurt her Price, I could have killed her.” Simon replies.

“You didn’t though, I can take care of this.” Price says sympathetically. Simon shakes his head.

“It has to be me.” He says pulling his mask down and getting out the car. Ghost walks round the back of the car but waits until Price is out the car hearing the door slam. Price reaches him and opens the boot. Ghost holds his breath as he sees Jacks body is arms bound behind his back his mouth gagged, blood is running down his face. 

“Nice job.” Ghost says. Price nods. Jack looks confused, worried Ghost doesn’t care. They both reach down pulling him out the boot onto the floor as he groans in pain. Price slams the boot closed.

“What you wanna do?” Price asks as they stand over Jack. Ghost has had all day to think about it. Had all day to imagine all the different ways he could hurt Jack, breaking his legs and throwing him in the river was his favourite option so far.

Price was right though, they needed to make it look like they were never involved. Price walks to the side of the car opening the door and taking out a pistol wrapped in a towel. Simon bends down pulling the gag out of Jacks mouth. He doesn’t say anything at first just looking around taking in his situation. Price walks back over and hands the pistol to Ghost. 

“You really manged to piss a lot of people off.” Price says. 

“Please don’t do this I have a family.” Jack pleads.

“Should have thought of that before you went after my family.” Ghost says checking the weapon mag. 

“You know what it’s like then, you’ll do anything to protect them.” Jack says looking directly in Ghost’s eyes. Ghost doesn’t say anything. 

“Is he left or right handed?” Ghost asks Price.

“Left.” Ghost nods kicking Jack over so he’s laid on the other side. Price moves out the way as Ghost bends down next to Jacks head pressing the barrel against his temple. 

“At least let them find my body so they can get closure.” Ghost’s surprised, he expected Jack to put up more of a fight in the end. Guess he knew this was coming. Price told Ghost how the family would lose everything, they were planning on pinning the blame on Jack. Making him the scapegoat. How ironic. Ghost has nothing to say, he doesn’t want to say anything. He moves his finger to the trigger takes a breath in and fires the shot.

He stands back up handing the pistol back to price who wraps it back in the towel. Ghost doesn’t know what to say, there is no big finally, no gotcha moment, Jack even got the last word. He was gone that's what matters. He helps Price clean up his brain switching to autopilot. He just wants to get home, wants to forget this ever happened.   

 —————————— 

Simon sneaks back into the flat kicking his shoes off and pulling his mask over his head. The light is on in the hall but the rest of the flat is dark. He flicks the light off and walks towards the bedroom. He cracks the door open his eyes adjusting in the dark. He can see your body pressed up in Johnny’s arms. He leans against the doorway taking it in for a second.

The two people he loves the most resting peacefully, he almost wants to sleep in the other room so he doesn't disturb the perfect moment before him. He silently walks round the bed pulling his shirt and trousers off and slowly slips into bed pressing his chest up against your back. Johnny stirs his fingers finding Simon's face in the dark, Johnny’s fingers brush his lips and Simon kisses them.

“Feel better?” Johnny whispers. Simon lays his hand over you grabbing Johnny’s waist. He can feel you breathing, he can see Johnny’s eyes glistening in the moonlight. This is all that matters. 

“Yeah.” Simon says tears rolling down his face. Now’s the time to be emotional. That’s what Johnny taught him, let yourself get emotional around the people you love. Johnny must be able to tell as his hand comes up to stroke Simon’s cheek, brushing the tears away. 

“Yer a good man Si.” Johnny says rubbing his chin. Simon doesn’t believe him. He killed a man to protect the people he loves now he’s left someone a widow and a kid without a dad. It doesn’t matter, Johnny’s safe you’re safe and that’s all Simon cares about. He smiles at Johnny in the dark, letting himself get emotional. He can feel Johnny’s hand on his face, he can feel your heartbeat up against his chest. He closes his eyes listening to your breathing. 

“I love you Si,” Johnny says.

“I love you too Johnny.” Simon replies and kisses the top of your head.

“Get some sleep yeah?” Johnny says yawning.

“‘Course.” Simon replies his voice barely a whisper. He would get some sleep. For the first time in a week, he would get some sleep. Surrounded by the people he loved, in a place that’s safe he would sleep like a baby. 

Next

[fbfh]

older!logan x reader hcs

wc: 1.6k

genre: age gap, sort of sugar daddy logan

warnings: big (but legal) age gap, logan is early 40s reader is like early 20s, brief odette mention, logan is a killer lawyer, rory kinda traumatized Logan lol, I haven't finished gilmore girls or ayitl yet so don't come for me lol, logan is obsessedddddddd with reader, mildly smutty, mentions of marriage and proposals, your relationship progresses really quickly

summary: you were reading in a coffee shop when a charming gorgeous much older guy decided to strike up a conversation. little do you know that within a very short time that same charming stranger will know your dress size, your shoe size, and your ring size.

song rec: off to the races - lana del rey

a/n: the choke hold older logan has on me..... euthanize me at this point lmao

tags @yesv01 @magcon7280

As with all nsfw works, all characters are aged up to 18+ (like way over 18 in logan’s case lol)

That being said jesus christ let’s dive right into the brain rot

First things first, a little more about Logan

He’s in his early 40’s and aging like a fine goddamn wine

MEGA MEGA dilf vibes

After the whole millions of dollars sunken into a bad investment in his family’s massive media conglomerate mishap, he still faced a lot of pressure to join the family business

But with Rory rejecting his proposal, he felt so fucking down and beaten up by life

He just had two massive blows to his ego back to back

And he needed a win

Then the strangest thing happened 

He just got back from another late night of partying with his friends and switched on the tv so he wouldn’t have to fall asleep with his thoughts, and some random movie was playing

The girl in the movie is at dinner with her boyfriend and thinks he’s going to propose, but he breaks up with her instead

It hits a little too close to home and Logan’s about to switch it off

Then she decides to go to law school to prove herself

He finds himself getting more and more invested in this movie, relating more to Elle with every scene, and by the morning he confronts the idea he’s been shoving away for too long so he doesn’t rock the boat

He talks to his dad and they decide Logan will go to law school, but remain a prominent board member and shareholder of the family company

Mitchum is surprised by how responsible and well thought out Logan’s plan is

He’s forging a path to a very lucrative field - one Mitchum can tell he’s going to be very successful in - while still staying involved enough in the family business 

So Logan goes off to law school, and 20 years later he’s a total shark 

He’s a prestigious, expensive lawyer with a reputation for never losing and a long streak of killing it with really high profile cases

Now the Huntzberger name carries all the weight and power of his father’s media reach, and Logan’s success in the courtroom 

He’s excelling 

And he’s excelling enough to keep his family out of his personal life for a while 

He’s living the bachelor life until he hits 40

That’s when his parents decide it’s really unacceptable that he’s still not married 

So they tell him if he doesn’t get married soon they’ll arrange something

Some french heiress or something 

And Logan finds himself right back where he didn’t want to be

And then, like a gift from god, he sees you

Like I said in my initial drabble, Logan first saw you in a cafe reading some dusty novel no one actually reads like war and peace or crime and punishment or something

He's seen people your age do that before, reading complicated stuffy literature to seem smart and make some pretentious English class commentary that barely makes sense 

So he calls you on it

"War and Peace, huh?"

He’s expecting you to say something fake and pretentious

Some bullshit fake deep pseudo intellectual shit

But you look up at him, only pausing for a moment before you speak

You’re surprised to see such a gorgeous guy in a little cafe like this

Especially one that seems interested in talking to you

And god, the way you talk about it

The way your eyes light up

It takes him by surprise

He's not just interested

He's invested 

You start talking and realize that you've been talking for way longer than you expected to

And he wants more

He wants to know more about you, wants to see you sweet smile and hear your cute little laugh when he says something charming or compliments you

So he takes you out to dinner, his treat 

He guides you out the door and into his Porsche with his hand on your back 

It's a subtle gesture but it makes your stomach flip 

Then he buckles your seat belt for you

If you weren't sold before you sure are by now 

So he takes you to this nice fancy restaurant, wines and dines you, and he is laying on the charm thick

"Oh, come on. A pretty young thing like you must have a boyfriend."

"Really, you have excellent taste.”

You don’t miss the way he’s been eyeing you all night

And he doesn’t miss the way you squeeze your thighs together when he touches your face or plays with your fingers

One thing leads to another and after he pays the bill and leaves a generous tip, you find him ushering you back into his porsche

And yet again he closes your door for you and gets you all buckled in

This time when he drives his hand rests on your knee

He thinks he can handle this

He’s the biggest whore on the east coast /affectionate 

Then you grab his hand and move it up your thigh

There’s no going back now

He’s in just as deep as you are

Before you know it you’re tearing off each other’s clothes

His lips are all over you and motherfucker does he know what he’s doing

He worried for a moment he might have lost his edge

But as he lays you down into his big soft bed, your skin touching his silky sheets for the first time

But definitely not the last

As he finally touches you and feels how wet you are for him

He knows he didn’t peak in college

“Shh, listen,” he says between kisses that make you feel dizzy, “you’re gonna tell me if it’s too much for you, can you do that?”

You nod while he holds your face in his big hands

“You gotta say it,” he chuckles at how sweet you are, how well you respond to him, “use your words, baby…” 

You manage to choke out a desperate yes between kisses that makes his stomach twist

And that is the very beginning to your intense affair with Logan Huntzberger 

He’s desperate to see you again

He sends flowers and a dress and a gorgeous necklace to your apartment

And not the normal amount of flowers

The Logan amount of flowers

So a lot

And you can’t believe your luck finding a hot rich older guy that’s so into you 

You really like this attention

Your daddy issues are SCREAMING

And Logan likes having someone as gorgeous and intelligent and into him as you are

And he wants to do this right

But he’s rapidly approaching the deadline his family set

He doesn’t want to scare you off

GOD that’s the last thing he wants

But he is terrified of proposing and having it end up like it did the last time

Eventually he works up the nerve to talk to you about it 

He’s explaining everything to you while you pay your bills 

But it says they’re already paid

And your credit cards are paid off

And your debt has just disappeared

Even your student loans are gone

And there’s a fat deposit in your checking account 

He paid off all your debt and didn’t tell you

By the time he’s done explaining that you basically either need to get married asap or you can’t see each other anymore he still hasn’t brought it up

And you realize he’s not going to

He didn’t pay your bills to guilt you into anything

He’s not holding it over your head

He’s taking care of you

And all you’ve ever wanted is someone who will take care of you

Logan is surprised when you agree

But he’s even more surprised at how fast you agree

You sit in his lap and end up rambling about how much you love him, how you don’t think you’ll ever find anyone you like as much as him or anyone that treats you as well as he does

To no one’s surprise the conversation ends with him taking you on every surface of your apartment

Hours later you’re cuddling naked on your couch, resting your head on his muscular chest and listening to his heartbeat

“So like… are we engaged now?” you ask looking up at him

He laughs sweetly

“No, not yet. I have to actually propose first.”

You think back to your conversation earlier when you first said you’d want to marry him

“So that didn’t count before?”

His heart breaks at how little you ask for

“No, that didn’t count.” He kisses your head, “I’m going to take you out somewhere nice, give you a proper proposal, with a nice ring.”

You get butterflies thinking about it

You can’t believe how much he does for you

How much he wants to do for you 

You’re quiet for a moment, and he can feel you smiling into his chest

“...Okay.” 

Your voice is so small and bashful, and he can hear you suppressing a flustered giggle

Fuck he can’t get enough of you 

He laughs and pulls you closer, grabbing your chin and makes you look up at him so he can kiss you 

You fall asleep in his arms

And you think that you won’t mind being married so young if it’s Logan you’re marrying

Logan is looking at you with so much love and adoration

And right before he falls asleep 

He thinks that maybe it’s not too late for him to find love after all

[marsplastic13]

'Complicated' (part 10) - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names)

Genre: modern AU, slow burn

word count: 9k

notes: soo super long part because I wasn't sure of where to cut

@millercontracting @coldmermaidhologram @syd649 @cryptidghostgirl @luffysprincess

Kaz moved through the next few days mechanically, his mind miles away. He avoided everyone and everything, lost in a haze of thoughts and emotions he couldn't fully process. When Inej asked for some time to think, he agreed without hesitation. He wasn’t ready for those difficult conversations, not when his mind was consumed by someone else entirely.

He obsessed over Y/N’s Instagram, watching her have fun on her cruise while he replayed their last conversation over and over in his mind. Glimpses of the night they shared haunted him, moments of intimacy and connection that only made the present more unbearable. He counted the days until her return, but every time, he stopped, he asked himself: then what? She had made it clear that things wouldn’t work and that she didn’t want to try.

For two days, she didn’t post anything, and Kaz was losing his mind. At first, he thought she had blocked him. Then, his thoughts spiraled further, leading him to check if the cruise had sunk, his anxiety manifesting in irrational fears.

He was on his couch, watching replays of MasterChef, when his phone buzzed. Frowning, Kaz saw DMs from one of Y/N’s roommates.

‘Hi, I know you and Y/N are not on speaking terms, and I know she’s going to kill me for this, but I have to tell you. Her grandma had a heart attack two days ago and she still hasn’t woken up. Y/N had to come back and she’s been at the hospital since then. She told us she doesn’t want anyone, but we thought maybe you could make her reason better than us.’

He was already on his feet, reaching for his car keys. ‘I’m on my way’ he replied quickly.

‘Can you stop here? We have a bag of her things ready’

Kaz reached Y/N’s house, where her roommates were already outside, waiting for him. One of them handed him a bag.

“There are some clothes, a book she had on her nightstand, and a few other things. Oh, and her glasses,” she explained.

Kaz nodded, taking the bag from her hand.

“She probably hasn’t eaten in days. Can you get her—”

“McDonald’s, yes,” he said confidently, already planning the next steps.

The girl’s face was filled with worry. “Kaz, she has no one else. If anything happens to her grandma, she’s going to lose it badly.”

He nodded again, feeling his heart race.

Outside the hospital, Kaz sent a text to his boss, saying he was taking the week off, and then turned off his phone. He found Y/N sitting on the floor outside her grandma’s room, staring blankly at the wall. Her eyes widened when she saw him, red and puffy from crying.

Without a word, Kaz slid down onto the floor next to her, ignoring the protest from his leg. He circled her shoulders with his arm, and she immediately threw herself onto his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. He held her tightly, his own emotions threatening to spill over as he tried to be the support she desperately needed. 

As she cried, Kaz rested his chin on the top of her head, stroking her hair gently. He wanted to say something comforting, but no words seemed adequate. Instead, he held her, letting his presence speak for him. In that moment, nothing else mattered but being there for her, giving her a shoulder to lean on in her darkest hour.

As she cried softly against his chest, Kaz's heart ached with the weight of her sorrow. He held her close, feeling her tremble with each sob, his own emotions tumultuous yet contained. His fingers traced comforting circles on her back, a silent gesture of solace amidst the sterile hospital environment.

Hours passed in their embrace, time marked only by the occasional shuffle of nurses outside and the rhythmic beeping of machines in the room. Eventually, y/n's voice broke the silence, a hesitant question cutting through the heaviness of the moment. "Do you want to go in?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

Kaz nodded gently, helping her up from their uncomfortable position on the floor. They moved to the bedside where y/n's grandmother lay, connected to various monitors and tubes. Without hesitation, y/n settled onto the edge of the bed, taking her grandmother's frail hand in hers. Kaz found a seat nearby, uncertain of his role in this deeply personal moment.

"Oh, um, they gave me your glasses," Kaz spoke up awkwardly, breaking the silence. "Didn't know you needed them."

Y/n accepted the glasses with a small smile, sliding them on with a playful comment that briefly lifted the weight in the room. "You look cuter when I can't see," she teased softly, her attempt at levity amid the somber atmosphere.

He chuckled softly, appreciating her effort to lighten the mood even in such circumstances. The afternoon faded into evening, and then night descended, their vigil by her grandmother's side continuing steadfastly. Kaz had no inclination to leave; his presence here, he hoped, offered some measure of comfort to y/n in her time of need.

"Kaz, if you want to go—" y/n began, her voice hesitant.

"I'm staying," he interrupted softly but firmly, meeting her eyes with unwavering determination.

"Thank you," she whispered gratefully, her words carrying a depth of emotion that words alone couldn't convey.

After the most uncomfortable sleep of their lives, a doctor awakened them, informing y/n that they were ready to try and wake up her grandmother by disconnecting some of the machines. Slowly, the elderly woman regained consciousness, and both y/n and Kaz released a collective breath of relief.

"Kitty?" Alice's voice was weak yet filled with recognition as she scanned the room for her niece.

"Hi, Grandma. How are you feeling?" y/n gently disentangled herself from Kaz's embrace and moved closer to the bed.

"Light," Alice replied softly, her eyes stopping on Kaz, curiosity evident in her gaze.

“I told you a thousand times not to play poker anymore,” y/n scolded Alice, a mix of exasperation and affection in her tone.

“Oh, Kitty, I was winning. I couldn't back out,” Alice chuckled weakly, attempting to lighten the mood. “You're unbelievable,” y/n shook her head fondly.

“Can we go now? I'm feeling pretty good,” Alice asked hopefully.

Kaz couldn't help but snort at y/n's reaction. “No, we can't. You had a heart attack! You have to stay here.”

“When was the last time you showered?” Alice teased gently.

“That's not relevant,” y/n retorted playfully.

“Who's watering my plants?” Alice asked, genuine concern in her voice.

“Your plants? You almost died!”

“My plants are going to die!” Alice insisted stubbornly.

Y/n laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “I can't believe you.”

The conversation between Alice and y/n continued, filled with lighthearted banter and genuine concern, leaving Kaz feeling like a spectator in their intimate family dynamic. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, unsure of how to contribute to their exchange.

“How much Botox did you get? Your forehead is frozen!” Alice suddenly remarked, shifting her attention to y/n with a teasing tone.

“Sick, right?” y/n tried to furrow her brow to demonstrate, but it remained stubbornly smooth. “It's weird, Kitty,” she scoffed.

Alice turned to Kaz with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Do you like this look?”

Kaz hesitated, feeling slightly put on the spot. “It's, uh, a bit unsettling.”

"See, Kitty? Even this boy you still haven't introduced thinks it's weird. You just turned 18 for Ghazen's sake,” Alice teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Kaz, caught off guard, took a sip of y/n's vape and nearly choked at the unexpected revelation. “You just what?”

“It was her birthday last month,” Alice explained casually, her tone implying this was no big deal, but her raised eyebrow at Kaz's surprise said otherwise.

“You're a minor?” Kaz turned to y/n, his disbelief palpable.

“Well, not anymore,” y/n shrugged nonchalantly, as if revealing the weather forecast. “Did I forget to tell you?”

Kaz was certain his face mirrored the shock he felt. His mind raced, trying to grasp the implications. He glanced at Alice, then back at y/n, feeling like he was missing something crucial.

"A minor?" Kaz repeated dumbfoundedly, trying to process the information. "And you didn't think this was worth mentioning?"

Y/n let out a laugh, seeing Kaz's stunned reaction. "Relax, Kaz. I've been legal for a whole month now."

Kaz rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. 

Alice, enjoying the banter, chimed in again. "You look a bit pale, dear."

"Yeah?" Kaz replied in a weirdly high voice, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he had been unknowingly involved with someone who had just barely reached adulthood. "I thought... I thought you were older."

Y/n couldn't resist teasing Kaz a little more. With a mischievous smirk, she leaned closer. "Age is just a number, Kaz."

Kaz shook his head, feeling like he had just stepped into a comedy of errors. "I need a moment," he muttered, mostly to himself, as he rubbed his temples.

Alice, ever the comforting presence, patted his arm sympathetically. "Take your time, boy. You're handling it well," she said with a twinkle in her eye, clearly amused by the situation.

Kaz let out a nervous laugh, his tension palpable. "Age is not just a number if you’re a minor, y/n," he retorted, his voice betraying a mix of disbelief and mild panic. "This is serious."

Y/n shrugged casually, her playful smile widening. "Why? What's the big deal?"

Kaz stared at her incredulously, feeling like he had just stumbled into a bizarre alternate reality. "You're asking why?" He shook his head, unable to contain a nervous chuckle.

 Kaz was sure that he was the one about having an heart attack and would need Alice to leave some machines even for him.

The woman exchanged a bewildered glance with y/n, both of them bursting into laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

“I wish I had a picture of the face you made, love. I didn't just turn 18. Relax,” y/n teased affectionately.

“You're going to be the death of me,” Kaz sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair with a mixture of amusement and relief.

“Who are you, boy?” Alice redirected her attention to Kaz, extending her hand in greeting.

“He's a friend, Grandma,” y/n answered warmly.

“Kaz Brekker, my pleasure, Miss or, well, Mrs?” Kaz replied politely, shaking Alice's hand in his gloved one.

“Alice is fine,” the woman replied with a gentle smile, studying Kaz's gloves intently.

“Are you cold?” Alice inquired, her concern evident.

“Kind of,” Kaz said, unsure of how to explain the presence of his gloves.

Alice hummed thoughtfully, her eyes lingering on Kaz for a moment longer. “Are you eating, kitty?”

“Are you?” y/n interjected playfully, teasing Alice back.

“Come on, Kitty, go to my house, check on the plants, and get a shower. You,” Alice turned towards Kaz, her expression serious yet caring, “convince her.”

Kaz's eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by Alice's directness. He quickly composed himself. “Yeah, we can go and be back in no time. I'm sure they have to run a few more exams anyway.”

“Fine,” y/n acquiesced reluctantly, glancing at Kaz for reassurance.

Kaz nodded reassuringly, offering her a small smile. 

Reluctantly, they left the hospital, making their way to Alice’s house. The cozy home was exactly as someone would imagine a grandma’s house: a haven of warmth and comfort, filled with knick-knacks, and the faint scent of lavender.

"Do you want to see her plants?" Y/n asked with a smirk, leading Kaz to a door at the back of the house.

Kaz followed, curious. When Y/n opened the door, he was greeted by rows of lush, green plants. "That's—"

"Marijuana, yes," Y/n finished for him, her smirk widening.

Kaz's eyes widened in disbelief. "That's arrest-level marijuana."

Y/n shrugged, laughter bubbling up. "She says she's too old to be put in jail."

They both burst out laughing, the heaviness of the previous days dissolving in their shared amusement. For a moment, it was just the two of them, wrapped in the absurdity of the situation and the warmth of Alice's eccentricity.

After their laughter subsided, Y/n led Kaz back to the living room. The cozy space invited them to stay a while, and they settled onto the couch. Kaz sank into the soft cushions, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over him. Y/n curled up beside him, her head resting on his shoulder.

“This place is really something,” Kaz said, looking around at the shelves lined with porcelain figurines and the walls adorned with y/n photos as a child.

Y/n nodded, her eyes following his gaze. 

Kaz glanced down at her, seeing a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. 

They sat in silence for a while, the only sounds coming from the ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner and the noise from the street. Kaz felt his eyes grow heavy, the emotional toll of the past days catching up with him.

Y/n seemed to sense his weariness. “You should rest a bit before we head back to the hospital,” she suggested, her voice gentle.

Kaz nodded, too tired to argue. He leaned back against the cushions, closing his eyes. Y/n shifted, lying down so her head was in his lap. He stroked her hair absentmindedly, feeling a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a long time. Their fight seemed so far away he could even forget it happened.

They stayed like that for a while, dozing off in the quiet comfort of the living room. When Kaz awoke, the sun had shifted, casting a warm glow through the lace curtains. He glanced down at Y/n, who was still asleep, her breathing soft and even. 

Yet, as he watched her, a familiar pang of uncertainty crept in. They were doing it again—blurring lines, complicating their emotions, and confusing themselves more and more. Despite the peace of the moment, he couldn't shake the realization that their relationship was a delicate dance of affection and conflict. The boundaries they tried to establish always seemed to blur, leaving them in a perpetual state of ambiguity.

He didn’t want to disturb her, but they needed to get back to the hospital.

“Y/n,” he whispered, gently shaking her shoulder. “We should get going.”

She stirred, blinking up at him sleepily. “Mh?”

He smiled down at her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Time to wake up, love.”

Y/n stretched, yawning. “Okay, let’s go.”

They both freshened up quickly, the refreshing showers revitalizing them. Kaz found himself feeling more human, more present. They changed into fresh clothes and made their way back to the hospital.

The drive back was quieter, but the atmosphere between them had lightened considerably. Kaz reached out and took Y/n’s hand, squeezing it gently. The simple touch was reassuring, a silent promise that he wouldn't leave her side.

“How have you been while I was away?” she asked, breaking the silence.

Kaz snorted, a self-deprecating smile playing on his lips. “Not good. I’m still a bit embarrassed by the things I told you while we were, you know.”

“Having sex, Kaz, you can say it,” Y/n replied, rolling her eyes. “And don’t worry, it was just the moment. I know you don’t mean any of it.”

“Well, not all of it,” he confessed, his voice softer.

Y/n turned to look at him with a small smile while he kept his eyes on the road, one hand caressing her thigh. The comfort and normalcy they felt were unsettling, a painful reminder of what they could have if circumstances were different.

“I like having you around, Y/n,” he added after a while. “I don’t care if you think that we’re going to mess this up. I mean, how could we mess it up more than it already is?”

“You have a girlfriend, Kaz,” she reminded him gently.

“Tell me to break up with her and I will,” he said, surprising even himself with the bold statement.

“It’s not my choice to make, and I still don’t want a relationship,” she said firmly.

He parked the car and sighed, leaning back in his seat. “Can we forget this for a while? At least until we’re here,” Kaz said, cupping one of her cheeks and pulling her towards him gently, giving her the space to back away if she wanted. Y/n let him guide her, their lips finally meeting in a tender kiss. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, and he hummed, satisfied. 

“How did you—?” he began to ask when she suddenly straddled him, her laughter filling the car as she pressed her body against his, deepening the kiss. His hands found their way under her shirt, tracing the smooth contours of her back.

“Do you want to do it?” she whispered in his ear, moving her hips slowly against him.

“Here?” he asked, not entirely opposed to the idea, though he was taken aback by the bold suggestion.

Before she could answer, a sharp knock on the car window startled them both. “Come on, lovebirds, knock it off,” a security guard said, his tone half-amused, half-exasperated.

Kaz turned an interesting shade of red, while Y/n laughed and opened the door, stepping out. “Sorry, got carried away a bit,” she said, batting her eyes at the guard.

“You’d be surprised how many people I have to interrupt. What is this thing with hospitals?” the man muttered to himself, shaking his head.

“Are you staying there?” he asked Kaz, who was still in the car, trying to gather his composure.

“Yeah, uh, I need—”

“Oh, for Ghezen’s sake, just don’t make me catch you again,” the guard said, walking away while shaking his head.

Kaz got out of the car, joining Y/n. They stood there for a moment, both a little flustered but also amused by the situation. “How can you never get embarrassed?” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Y/n chuckled, linking her arm with his. “I get embarrassed, just not for wanting to have sex. There’s nothing wrong about it.”

“If you say so,” he replied, shaking his head slightly but smiling.

They settled into Alice’s room, where she immediately put them to work on her crossword puzzles. “Kitty, get down from that poor guy. He’s not going to be able to feel his legs anymore,” Alice commented, noticing Y/n had made herself comfortable on Kaz’s lap.

“It’s fine,” Kaz said, peering over her shoulder at the puzzle.

“So, what’s the deal between you two?” Alice inquired, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“We’re friends, I told you,” Y/n shrugged, her attention shifting to her phone where she was watching TikToks. “Oh, look at how cute this baby is,” she cooed, showing Kaz a video of a giggling infant.

Kaz made a face. “Babies are gross,” he muttered, eliciting a laugh from Y/n.

“Friends, huh?” Alice remarked slyly. “And did someone tell you that you’re only friends?”

“Grandma!” Y/n exclaimed.

“I’ll mind my own business,” Alice said, laughing to herself.

“See? Even she thinks we should try it,” Kaz whispered in Y/n’s ear, leaning back and making her lay more comfortably against his chest.

“Shut up and look at this cat,” Y/n retorted, showing him another TikTok.

Kaz chuckled, the warmth of their playful banter wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. Despite the complexities of their relationship, moments like these made everything else fade into the background.

Every now and then, Y/n would shift, adjusting her position on Kaz's lap, and he would wrap his arms around her more securely. They fell into a comfortable rhythm, their interactions natural and effortless.

That night, Y/n fell asleep in one of the chairs outside Alice’s room, her head resting uncomfortably against the wall. Kaz, however, was too restless to sleep. The hospital chair dug into his back, and the sterile lights made it impossible to find any real comfort. Around 3 a.m., he noticed movement from Alice’s room and saw her trying to sneak out. He raised a brow, his curiosity piqued.

Alice caught his eye and then glanced at her sleeping niece. “Come on, let’s go take some fresh air,” she whispered.

“Alice, I don’t think you should—”

“I’m going. Will you explain to her why you left me alone, or should I?” Alice shot back, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Kaz sighed. Was being annoyingly stubborn a genetic trait? He stood up and followed her as they made their way to a door that led to a balcony. “It’s locked,” Kaz commented, testing the handle.

“Then open it, boy,” Alice sighed, clearly unimpressed.

Kaz debated whether to comply, but he realized she’d probably find another way to escape. Better to accompany her than let her wander off alone. He quickly picked the lock, and they stepped outside into the cool night air.

“I saw you kissing earlier,” Alice said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, um,” Kaz stammered, caught off guard.

“You know, Kitty is really good at telling lies—especially to herself,” Alice remarked, her voice softening. “It’s complicated,” he whispered, the weight of the situation pressing down on him.

“Where’s the fun if it’s not?” she replied, studying him intently. “Are you in love with her?”

Kaz hesitated, the unexpected question throwing him off balance. He struggled to find the right words.

“She’s going to get scared and push you away,” Alice continued, sensing his turmoil.

“She already did,” he admitted. “We weren’t talking to each other before I got here.”

Kaz thought about the past few days, his phone having been off since he arrived. Inej and Jesper were probably worried sick. For a moment, he was tempted to turn it on, but he knew that doing so would mean facing a barrage of messages and difficult conversations. What was one more day?

Alice sighed, leaning against the balcony railing. “You know, life is too short to waste on complications. Sometimes you just have to take the leap, no matter how scary it is.”

Kaz nodded, her words resonating deeply within him. He looked out at the city lights, the quiet hum of the hospital a soothing backdrop to his chaotic thoughts. “You should say that to her too.”

Alice smiled gently. “You have to be honest with yourself first. Can you accept her job?”

The million-kruge-question. Kaz felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He hesitated, then decided to ask, “How did you accept it?”

Alice chuckled softly, reminiscing. “Oh, it wasn’t easy. Nearly gave me a heart attack when she told me about her decision. But she’s comfortable with it, assures me that she’s safe, and she sends me her check-ups every month.”

Kaz nodded, appreciating Alice’s candidness. Trying to lighten the mood, he added, “Oh yeah, she always uses protection.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he cursed himself internally. Why would he say something like that to her grandma?

Alice raised a brow, her amusement evident. “And how do you know that, boy?”

Kaz cleared his throat, attempting to sound convincing. “She… told me.”

The woman chuckled, clearly not believing him. “If you want her, don’t let her take control. Steer her your way, guide her to you, small steps. Don’t ask her to make a decision suddenly, she’s going to run away.”

Kaz nodded, absorbing her advice. He stared at the view, the city lights blurring as his mind raced. Alice's words swirled in his head, mingling with his fears and hopes. Here he was, taking relationship advice from Y/n’s grandmother, while still technically in a relationship himself. 

They stood in silence for a while, the cool night air wrapping around them. Alice patted his arm. “Remember, Kaz. Patience and persistence. If you truly care for her, show her that you’re willing to be there, no matter how complicated things get.”

Kaz took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of determination and anxiety swirling within him. “I have a girlfriend,” he blurted out suddenly, the words escaping before he could stop them.

Alice didn’t seem perturbed by his confession. She regarded him calmly, her eyes soft with understanding. “And Y/n doesn’t want a serious relationship,” he added hastily, his mouth seemingly disconnected from his brain, which was screaming at him to shut up.

Alice remained composed, her expression unchanged. She took a moment before responding, her voice gentle yet firm. “Feelings evolve, circumstances change,” she said, her words carrying the weight of experience. “If it’s meant to be, then it will be. If it’s not, then it won’t. Don’t force things, with neither of them.”

Kaz nodded slowly, grateful for Alice’s wisdom even as he struggled to reconcile his emotions. Her words echoed the doubts and fears he had been grappling with—about relationships, about his own desires, about the uncertainties of the future.

“Trust in the journey, Kaz,” Alice continued, her tone reassuring. “Sometimes, the best thing we can do is allow things to unfold naturally, without trying to control the outcome.”

Kaz took a deep breath, absorbing her advice. It was both comforting and challenging—to relinquish control, to trust in the unknown. But he knew deep down that Alice was right. He couldn’t force Y/n into something she wasn’t ready for, and he couldn’t ignore the truth of his own heart.

“Let’s get back inside before they send a search party.”

Back in the waiting room, Y/n was still asleep, curled up in the chair. Kaz carefully adjusted her position, ensuring she was comfortable. Alice gave him a knowing look before settling back into her bed.

Days went by, and they spent them in a routine that became surprisingly comforting. They moved between Alice’s room, her house, and the hospital cafeteria, finding solace in each other’s company amidst the uncertainty. Alice underwent various exams, and while they waited, Kaz and Y/n often found themselves outside in the uncomfortable chairs, trying to pass the time.

One afternoon, Y/n was engrossed in one of her fairy porn books, the kind that always made Kaz raise an eyebrow. After a while, he couldn’t help but ask, “How can you read these things?”

Y/n glanced up, a mischievous glint in her eye. “It’s fun.”

Kaz shook his head, feigning disbelief. “It’s weird.”

“Then don’t read them,” she retorted, turning a page.

“I want to know how it ends,” he admitted, a small smile tugging at his lips.

She turned to him with a smile, the playful banter lightening the heavy atmosphere. He felt a sudden urge to kiss her, to bridge the small gap between them, but he hesitated, the complexities of their situation weighing on him. Before he could second-guess himself further, Y/n leaned in and left a small, soft kiss on his lips, then casually went back to her book as if nothing had happened.

Kaz’s heart raced, the simple gesture leaving him both elated and confused. The kiss was brief but charged with unspoken emotion, a silent acknowledgment of their growing bond. He watched her for a moment, her focus seemingly back on her book, but he knew she felt it too—the undeniable connection between them.

They continued to spend their days like this, finding comfort in their shared moments despite the complications looming over them. Kaz couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt to be with Y/n, how her presence made the hospital’s sterile environment feel almost homely. They laughed together, shared meals, and sometimes just sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts yet deeply aware of the other’s presence.

***

Finally, Alice was cleared to go home. Despite their protests, she insisted on calling a friend to take her, wanting to give Kaz and Y/n some space. As she left, she gave them a knowing smile and a gentle reminder to cherish their time together.

Kaz and Y/n were sitting in his car, the engine idling softly. Kaz had only one thing on his mind, the thought he had been forcing himself to ignore for days: Now what?

“I still have a few days off work,” he said, glancing at her and waiting for her reaction.

“So?” she replied, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, a playful challenge in her eyes.

Yeah, he thought, so?

He started driving, letting her put on some music. The familiar tunes filled the car, creating a comfortable backdrop to their thoughts. Every now and then, Y/n would lean towards him to let him take a drag from her vape, the small, intimate gesture deepening their silent connection.

“Where are we going?” she asked after a while, looking around curiously as the scenery shifted from urban to suburban.

“Supermarket,” he replied nonchalantly.

“Why?” she laughed, surprised by the sudden change in plans.

“You’re making dinner,” he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Am I now?” she teased, her laughter infectious.

“Yep,” he affirmed, his tone light but his eyes serious.

They arrived at the supermarket, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow over the parking lot. Inside, they wandered through the aisles, the mundane task of grocery shopping feeling strangely intimate. Kaz watched as Y/n picked out ingredients, her movements confident and assured. He found himself drawn to her even more, captivated by the ease with which she moved through life, her independence and strength shining through in these simple moments.

“Please, Kaz, let me do it,” Y/n kept begging in his ear, her tone a mix of playful and insistent. She nipped at his earlobe, her breath warm against his skin.

“I don’t want to,” he laughed nervously, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. His fingers twitched as he fought the urge to touch her.

“Come on, I swear I’m really good,” she teased, her lips brushing against his ear, sending shivers down his spine. Her words hung in the air, filled with a promise that made his pulse quicken.

“I have absolutely no doubts about that,” he responded, his voice a little breathless. The room felt smaller, the air charged with a tension that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Y/n got on her knees in front of him while he was seated on the couch, her eyes wide and pleading. The sight of her there, looking up at him with such intensity, made his heart race. “Please.”

“You’re not ashamed of anything, are you?” he asked, half in awe, half in disbelief. He could barely comprehend her boldness, so different from the guarded world he was used to.

“Absolutely not,” she replied confidently. Her hands rested lightly on his knees, her touch sending electric sparks through his body.

Kaz made a crooked smile, giving in just a little, pulling her back up on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling the warmth of her body against his. “I prefer you up here,” he murmured against her lips, his hands tracing the curve of her back, memorizing every contour.

“Only because you don’t know how good I am down there,” she said playfully, arching her neck to give him better access for a kiss. Her lips met his with a softness that made him forget everything else, the world outside their bubble disappearing.

Her words lingered in his mind, tempting and daring him to let go of his reservations. He deepened the kiss, his hands tangling in her hair, pulling her closer as if afraid she might vanish. The taste of her, the feel of her, was intoxicating, making it hard to think clearly.

For a moment, all he could think about was her – the way she felt in his arms, the sound of her breath mingling with his. The rational part of his mind screamed at him to stop, to remember the complications and the consequences, but he silenced it, letting himself get lost in the moment.

The sudden sound of the door opening shattered their intimacy. They barely had time to react before Jesper burst in, anger and worry evident in his voice. “Kaz! Where the fuck have you been?”

Kaz and Y/n froze, their faces reflecting the guilt of being caught so red-handed. They knew there was no point in trying to move away from each other. Jesper’s eyes widened further as he registered her presence in Kaz's living room, his shock palpable. “Y/n? What the hell are you doing here?” he blurted out, his voice a mix of disbelief and frustration.

“You disappeared for fucking days! I can’t believe you’re with her,” Jesper said in disbelief. “Inej is worried sick, Kaz, and so was I.”

Y/n moved off Kaz’s lap, letting him stand up. Kaz faced Jesper, trying to maintain his composure. “I was in Lij. I had a family thing to fix,” he said confidently. “I just got back.”

Jesper shook his head, incredulous. “And the first person you tell is obviously her? Not your friends, not your girlfriend?” he shot back, his voice dripping with accusation. He glanced between Kaz and Y/n, confusion etched on his face.

Kaz hesitated, caught off guard by Jesper’s directness. Y/n shifted uncomfortably under Jesper’s scrutinizing gaze, unsure of how to explain her presence without making matters worse.

“I…” Kaz started, searching for an explanation that wouldn’t betray the complexities of their situation.

Jesper’s frustration grew, his disbelief evident. “You were just what? Kaz, what the hell is going on here?” he demanded, his tone cutting through the tense silence.

“I didn’t think you’d be so worried, and I haven’t talked to Inej in days. She asked for space, and I gave it to her,” Kaz explained, though it was clear Jesper wasn’t entirely convinced.

“I can go if you have to talk,” Y/n offered gently, trying to defuse the situation. Jesper glared at her, but Kaz spoke first, “No, don’t worry.”

“Of course, Y/n, don’t worry. So as soon as I leave, he can keep cheating on his girlfriend,” Jesper said harshly. “Or wasn’t that what I just interrupted? Are you sleeping together?”

“No, Jesper. It was… just a kiss,” Kaz lied, his voice strained.

“Oh, then everything is alright, just a kiss. Where’s the line, Kaz?” Jesper’s sarcasm was palpable.

“It’s none of your business, Jes,” Kaz said, his patience wearing thin.

“It is if you’re hurting my friend.”

Kaz inhaled deeply, trying to steady himself. “You want to know what happened with Inej?” he asked, releasing a nervous chuckle. “She said that she was with me because she thought I would never be able to touch her.”

Jesper’s surprise was evident, his anger momentarily replaced by shock. “Yeah, I bet she didn’t tell you that,” Kaz said more quietly, shaking his head.

“That’s fucked up, but it still doesn’t give you the right to cheat on her,” Jesper retorted, though his voice was less confident now.

“I’m not even sure if we’re still together anymore,” Kaz confessed.

“Look, I’m sorry, Kaz, but you can’t behave like this,” Jesper said, his tone softening.

“I need a drink,” Kaz sighed, moving towards the kitchen. He made three drinks and brought them back, handing one to Jesper and another to Y/n.

The three of them sat uncomfortably on the couch, sipping their drinks in silence. The atmosphere was heavy with unresolved tension, each sip of their drinks punctuated by the awkwardness that filled the room. Jesper’s eyes darted between Kaz and Y/n, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. He couldn’t help but notice how she had curled up next to Kaz, her body instinctively seeking comfort in his presence despite the situation. Kaz, for his part, seemed lost in thought, absentmindedly playing with a strand of her hair as he stared blankly at the wall.

Y/n shifted slightly, feeling Jesper’s gaze on her. 

“Oh, you have a lash on your cheek,” Y/n said, her voice a tentative attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere that hung around them. She reached out, her touch gentle as she plucked the lash away from Kaz’s cheek. “Make a wish,” she instructed softly, holding it delicately on her fingertip.

Kaz raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips despite the tension in the room. “Come on, it’s bad luck if you don’t,” Y/n insisted, a small smile tugging at her own lips.

He leaned in unexpectedly, catching her off guard by biting her finger lightly instead of making a wish. Y/n let out a surprised laugh, pulling her hand back instinctively. Kaz’s arm slid around her waist, drawing her close against his side, a subtle gesture that spoke volumes about their connection.

Jesper watched the exchange with a mixture of surprise and bewilderment. His brow furrowed slightly as he tried to process the dynamics unfolding before him. Despite the tension and the serious conversation that had preceded this moment, Kaz and Y/n seemed to share a natural ease with each other, a comfort that was palpable even in the midst of their turmoil.

“That was uncalled for,” Y/n chuckled, trying to regain her composure after Kaz’s unexpected move. 

Her phone started buzzing, and she excused herself to another room to take the call. Jesper watched her leave before turning back to Kaz.

“You know what really makes me mad?” Jesper asked, breaking the silence. “It’s that you two look really good together.”

Kaz nodded, a small, bittersweet smile forming on his lips. Despite everything, he knew there wasn’t going to be a ‘them.’

Kaz sighed heavily, he knew there was no hiding it now, not after Jesper had caught them in such compromising proximity.

“Give her a chance, Jes,” Kaz pleaded, his voice carrying a mixture of regret and earnestness. “Me and Inej… I won’t be able to patch things up after what she told me.” His words trailed off, the pain of Inej’s revelation still fresh in his mind. “And Y/n is not the one to blame,” he added quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I was the one in a relationship, not her.”

Jesper’s expression hardened, a mix of disappointment and understanding crossing his features. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration and resignation. “I don't like her.”

“You don't like her or you don't like how I handled things?” Kaz asked, his voice tinged with a desperate need for clarity.

Jesper looked at him, the tension between them palpable. “Yeah, maybe I don't like you,” he said, trying to lighten the mood but failing to hide the seriousness in his tone. “But in all honesty, Kaz, it's more about how you handled things. You should have been honest with Inej from the start.”

Kaz nodded, his face reflecting the inner turmoil he felt. “I know, Jes. I didn’t plan for any of this to happen. I have no idea of when the things started to become different.”

Jesper sighed deeply, his frustration evident. “It’s always complicated with you, Kaz. But this...this is different.”

Kaz looked up, meeting Jesper’s gaze with a mixture of determination and guilt. “I never wanted to hurt anyone, Jes. Inej...what she told me. I was wrong to let things go this far without addressing it.”

Jesper’s expression softened slightly, though his frustration remained. “You owe it to both of them to be honest about your feelings and your intentions.”

Kaz nodded, his jaw clenched as he wrestled with the ramifications of his actions. “I know, and I will. But Y/n...she’s not just a fling, Jes. She means something to me.”

Jesper’s eyes widened in surprise. “So, you’re saying you have feelings for her?”

Kaz hesitated, the admission feeling heavier than he anticipated. “Yes, I do. But I also know that she’s not looking for a serious relationship. It’s complicated.”

Jesper shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and resignation on his face. “Complicated seems to be your specialty, Kaz. But you need to sort this out. You can’t keep stringing them along, it’s not fair to anyone.”

Kaz sighed, the weight of Jesper’s words settling heavily on him. “I know. I need to talk to Inej and figure out where we stand.”

Jesper nodded, his expression still stern but softened by a hint of empathy. “Good. Because if you care about them, you owe it to them to be truthful. And to yourself too.”

Kaz looked at Jesper, gratitude and guilt mingling in his eyes. “Thanks, Jes. I appreciate it.”

Jesper nodded, his tension easing slightly. “Just...don’t make a habit of this, Kaz. You’re a smart guy, but sometimes you’re your own worst enemy.”

Kaz chuckled, though the sound was tinged with sadness. “You’re not wrong about that.”

They fell into an uneasy silence, the weight of the conversation lingering in the air. Kaz knew he had a long road ahead to make things right, but for the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, he could find a way through the mess he had created.

After Jesper left, the air in the room felt thick with the residue of their intense conversation. Kaz and Y/n settled back on the couch, the tension slowly ebbing away.

“Kaz, if you want me to go,” she began, her eyes searching his, filled with concern and uncertainty.

“Stay,” he replied firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Can we go to bed? I'm starting to feel all those nights on the hospital chairs,” she sighed, stretching her arms and stifling a yawn.

Kaz nodded, and they made their way to his bedroom. The act of changing clothes and sliding into bed felt almost ritualistic, a comforting routine in the midst of their emotional chaos. They lay on their sides, facing each other, the intimacy of the moment both soothing and unsettling.

“I have to work tomorrow,” Y/n said gently, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Anything interesting?” Kaz asked, his fingers tracing small patterns on the sheet between them.

“Nah,” she replied, shaking her head slightly.

Kaz pulled her closer, the need for physical closeness overpowering his usual reluctance. Her warmth seeped into him, grounding him in the moment.

“How do you feel?” she asked softly, her fingers brushing against his cheek in a tender gesture.

“Overwhelmed,” he sighed, leaning into her touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the comfort she offered.

“Is there something I can do?” she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

“Can you break up with my girlfriend?” he chuckled dryly, a hint of bitterness lacing his words.

Y/n hesitated, the gravity of his statement sinking in. “You’ve decided to do it?” she asked, her voice cautious.

“Yes, I have to,” he admitted, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of determination and regret. “It's the only way to move forward. I can’t keep living like this, hurting everyone involved.”

She nodded, understanding the weight of his decision. “It’s not going to be easy.”

“I know,” Kaz replied, his voice firm. “But it’s the right thing to do.”

They lay in silence for a while, the quiet punctuated by the soft sound of their breathing. Kaz’s mind raced with thoughts of how to approach Inej, how to explain everything without causing more pain. He knew it would be a delicate conversation, one fraught with emotion and complexity. But he also knew it was necessary.

“And then what?” Y/n asked, her voice barely above a whisper, breaking the silence.

“You know what I want,” he admitted, his eyes locking onto hers with a mixture of hope and vulnerability.

“I can’t give you that right now,” she said softly, her gaze steady but tinged with regret.

“I’ll take what you can,” Kaz replied, his tone resolute. 

“It’s not fair, Kaz.”

“You told me you’re not a nice person,” he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Are you going to start now?”

She sighed, feeling the weight of his words. 

“I tried to have the perfect relationship,” he continued, his voice tinged with bitterness and resignation. “It blew up in my face. So whatever mess you’re down for, I’m in.”

She looked at him, seeing the raw honesty in his eyes. The Kaz she knew was always calculating, always had a plan. But here he was, laying his heart bare, willing to dive into the unknown with her.

“Kaz, I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, her voice cracking slightly.

“I know,” he replied, his thumb brushing gently across her cheek. “And I don’t want to hurt you. But we’re already in this. We can’t pretend it’s not happening.”

Y/n closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. The logical part of her knew he was right, but her emotions were a tangled web of fear, desire, and uncertainty.

“No expectations, no promises.” she said, opening her eyes to meet his gaze. 

Kaz nodded, his expression softening.

They stayed like that for a while, holding each other in the dark of the room. The enormity of the decisions they were making weighed heavily on them. Despite the gravity of their situation, the warmth of their closeness offered a fleeting sense of peace.

y/n kept shifting, pressing her back on his chest, restless. “Fuck, I was so horny. Damn Jesper,” she whispered, annoyance tinging her voice.

Kaz snorted, grateful for the lightness she brought into the moment. “Yeah, this wasn’t exactly how I imagined our evening.”

“Mh, let me hear what you were thinking about,” she teased, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Kaz smirked, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her stomach. “Well, for starters, I didn’t plan on being interrupted,” he said, his voice low and intimate. 

“Go on,” she encouraged, her interest piqued.

“I imagined us taking our time. Maybe having a few drinks, and then...” he trailed off, his eyes darkening with desire as he recalled the thoughts that had been running through his mind.

“And then?” she prompted, her breath hitching slightly as his words stirred something deep within her.

“And then, we’d end up back here,” he continued, his voice husky. “But instead of talking about all this heavy stuff, we’d be... exploring each other. Slowly, thoroughly.”

Y/n’s eyes sparkled with anticipation, pressing more into him. “Sounds like a good plan.”

Kaz chuckled softly, his lips brushing against her neck. “Yeah, but there’s always tomorrow,” he murmured, his voice full of promise.

“Tomorrow? How am I going to sleep now?” she protested, a playful whine in her voice.

Kaz's chuckle deepened, his breath warm against her skin. “Well, maybe there’s something we could do,” he suggested, his hips pressing on her ass. Y/n shivered at his touch, her body responding eagerly to his nearness.

“I like it when you’re not shy,” she whispered, her voice filled with anticipation.

“It’s all your fault. You make me forget how to think,” he said between kisses on her neck. His hand made its way between her legs, eliciting a soft moan from her. “How can you be so wet?” he hummed in satisfaction.

“I like dirty talking,” she admitted, her breath hitching as his fingers teased her.

“I barely said anything,” he laughed, clearly pleased with her response.

“I like you telling me finally what you want,” she clarified, her eyes half-closed in pleasure.

He started moving his hand and his hips, slowly teasing her, building the tension. “I know what you’re thinking, love,” she said after a while, her voice a mix of desire and amusement. “The answer is no.”

Kaz hummed, clearly annoyed. “But it would be so easy to just slip it in,” he murmured, his voice low and tempting.

“Look at you, having sex twice and already asking to do it without protection. You’re such a man,” she said with a small laugh, though her own need was evident.

“You’re on birth control,” he whined weakly, his voice almost a plea. “Please, love.” He pressed his forehead against her shoulder. “I just want to feel you, all of you.”

Y/n sighed, her resolve wavering but not yet broken. “Kaz,-” She arched her back, a soft hum escaping her lips. The way he moved against her, the feel of his fingers inside her, was making it hard to refuse. 

“Please, Y/n. I need you.” he whispered, his voice tinged with desperation. 

“Begging, Kaz? Really?” Her tone teasing.

“You'll make me shameless as you are, I don’t care about anything else right now. Please, just this once. Let me have all of you.”

“Fine,” she finally whispered, her resolve melting away.

Kaz didn't need any further encouragement. He shifted, aligning himself with her, and slowly, carefully, he pushed inside her. The sensation was overwhelming, raw, and intimate. They moved together in a rhythm that was both desperate and tender.

Her moans were mingling with his groans. The intensity of their passion was almost too much to bear, every touch, every kiss, driving them closer to the edge.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Kaz breathed, his lips brushing against her ear. His voice was ragged, filled with raw desire.

“Baby, let me lay on my stomach,” Y/n urged, her body arching against his in anticipation. She moved to change positions, her eyes locking onto his. “Do you want it sweet or rough?” she asked with a grin, her tone playful yet seductive.

Kaz stood puzzled by the question, the familiar embarrassment regarding his inexperience creeping in. He hesitated, unsure how to respond, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“Sweet it is,” she decided, sensing his discomfort and wanting to ease his tension. She lay down, raising her hips invitingly. “Come here, lay on me,” she encouraged, her voice soft and reassuring.

Kaz followed her lead, positioning himself over her, his body pressing against hers. Y/n guided his hand to her lower abdomen, her touch gentle yet firm. “Now take this hand, and press here,” she instructed, her voice a mix of authority and affection.

He did as she said, pressing his hand where she indicated, feeling the tautness of her muscles beneath his palm. “Move,” she instructed him, her voice breathy with anticipation.

Kaz began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending ignited with pleasure. He could feel himself going deeper, the pressure of his hand adding a new dimension to their intimacy. The feeling of being so connected, of feeling himself under his hand, was almost too much to bear.

Kaz hissed against her hair, his breath hot and uneven. “Oh, I’m not going to last, love,” he admitted, his voice strained with the intensity of his desire.

Y/n turned her head slightly, her lips brushing against his cheek. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice a soothing balm to his frazzled nerves. “Just let go.”

Encouraged by her words, Kaz allowed himself to lose control, his movements becoming more urgent. Each thrust was a declaration of his need for her, his desire to be as close as possible. Y/n’s soft moans spurred him on, her body responding to his every touch.

Their connection deepened with each passing moment, the world outside their embrace fading away. It was just them, lost in the rhythm of their shared pleasure. Kaz’s hand pressed firmly against her abdomen, grounding him in the here and now, his other hand tangled in her hair.

“Y/n,” he groaned, his voice a mix of desperation and ecstasy. “I'm so close”

“Let go, Kaz,” she urged, her own voice tinged with urgency.

With a final thrust, Kaz obeyed, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave. He buried his face in her hair, his body trembling with the force of his climax, her own pleasure evident in the way she tightened around him, her breathy moans music to his ears.

They lay like that for a while, their bodies entwined, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the room. The enormity of their connection, the intensity of their shared experience, left them both breathless and satisfied.

As they slowly came down from their high, Kaz pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder, lingering as if to imprint the moment in his memory. Y/n shifted to look at him, her eyes soft and filled with affection, studying his face. There was a tenderness in her gaze, a silent communication that passed between them.

“Don’t say it, Kaz. It’s not true,” she murmured, her voice gentle but firm.

He sighed, slightly embarrassed. “Was it so evident?”

“Yes,” she replied with a soft smile, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. She could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between his burgeoning feelings and the reality of their situation. 

He nodded, appreciating her understanding. The vulnerability he felt in her presence was both terrifying and liberating. She had a way of seeing through his walls, of touching the parts of him he kept hidden from the world.

“Are you going to be able to sleep now?” he asked, his voice teasing as he tried to lighten the mood.

“Yes,” she replied, snuggling closer to him. Her body fit perfectly against his, a warm and reassuring presence. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. 

Kaz wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer. The comfort of her weight against him, the softness of her skin, it all felt so right. “Good,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to the top of her head.

[thetombedspirit]

Jurassic World: Camp Fam - Next Generation

I was board, so I made a next gen for the Nublar Six, based on my personal headcanons and ships so if you don't like Benrius and Kenlynn, then please don't come at me. This is all just in good fun.

Enjoy!

Emily Bowman (Benrius)

Emily was nine-years old when her parents were unfortunately killed in a freak dinosaur attack, leaving her orphaned. Darius and Ben responded to the call and took her into their care. She stayed with them for a little while whilst Social Services began sorting out her situation, wherein during that time, Emily gotten to get to know Darius and Ben and what they do; how they locate dinosaurs, care for them, and ship them off to private island habitats funded by Dr Mae Turner and Mantah Corp, now under Kenji’s full jurisdiction. She even began to conquer her fear after making friends with a Maiasaura she named Ursa.

She was eventually put into a foster home, but the conditions were poor, so she decided to run away and return to the Sanctuary, via stealing the mum’s credit card to book a plane ticket.

Darius and Ben were shocked to see Emily and horrified to hear about the living conditions. After sending her to bed, they had a long talk about how they had once talked about adopting and raising a family, agreeing they both adored Emily and didn’t want her to go. So they gave Emily the good news the next morning that they would adopt her into the family and she said yes.

Fun Fact: Ursa the Maiasaura is a direct nod to concept dinosaurs that would eventually become Bumpy, as Maiasaura was one of the many plausible candidates.

2. Julia and Xavier Kon (Kenlynn)

Despite their ups and downs, concerning Brooklynn’s line of work and Kenji's inheritance of Manta Corp, Brooklynn tries extra hard to live in the moment and not take her time with her family and friends for granted and Kenji works hard to ensure that the Kon family name is redeemed through his work. Regardless of their hardships, they work well together and support each other through their struggles.

Julia Kon is the more extraverted of the duo. She takes after her father, enjoys skating, archery and isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty, preferring physical activities to staying coped up indoors all day. Her brother Xavier is more closed off then his sister. Younger by two years, he prefers technology and hacking to climbing and being outdoors.

Despite their differences, two things they have in common is their love for their family and their association with dinosaurs. Namely the herd of Parasaurolophus living by their father’s climbing camp. Every month, Kenji would take the family camping at the cliffs and the kids would play with the baby Parasaurolophuses. One in particular took a real shine to the children; Brooklynn affectionately named her Nightlight, due to how Xavier would snuggle her tightly due to his fear of the dark when they went camping.

Fun Fact: Julia and Xavier are named after Brooklynn and Kenji's original concepts for Camp Cretaceous, Jules and Xi respectively. Also, Kenji and Ben used to have different roles, with Ben being the strong, athletic character while Kenji (at this point in time, Xi) was the shy, nerdy type. They since swapped roles, with Ben becoming the shy one and Xi taking the role of the rich kid and was renamed Kenji.

3. Katie Gutierrez-Fadoula (Yasammy)

When Sammy and Yaz got married and talked about starting a family, they realized there were some complications: Sammy's encounter with the Scorpios Rex damaged her reproductive organs and left her unable to carry a child to term, and Yaz was uncomfortable with the idea of ordering a doner. So in the end, they agreed to adopt.

Katie loves her moms and her life at the ranch. She enjoys spending time with Angel and Rebel, who they were able to rescue and keep on the ranch (best cattle dogs Sammy ever had), tending to the cows, chickens and the stray Pachycephalosaurus that had been hanging around the ranch lately, who she has named Bonehead. She came out to her mums as trans when she was 13 and they wholeheartedly support her through her transition.

Fun Fact: Katie is a sorta merge of Sammy and Yaz's concepts. Sammy was originally meant to be male and Yaz's name was originally Katie.

Anyway, those are my versions of the next generation of Camp Fam. I hope you like them and again, this is just all in good fun; I'm not trying to start any shipping wars.

Take care peoples.

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

57 - Forcing Past our Saftey

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

Length: 19.1k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, mental duress, unspecified illness, illusions to cheating/infidelity, self inflicted self harm with a sexual basis, dark themes of sexual nature, references to past rape, mentally unstable originated toxic behavior, smut, oral (m receiving)

Notes: Just a pre warning that the reader does something in this chapter that is a form of self harm with a sexual basis for the act, that also acts as a trigger to Jons own trauma as a consequence. It's a complicated situation that happens very fast but I thought some forewarning was necessary. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

“Well over a decade he’s been positioning himself close to the Iron Throne. Why change his plans now?”

Palms braced against the table before him, Jons expression twisted downward with his jaw set tightly. He didn’t work in this manner, playing the games which other highborns all were so deeply invested in, but now he was at quite a disadvantage. He was up against an opponent who knew far more then he ever could about all over the realm, and Jon could answer the whats and hows all day. It was the why he had no idea of.

Likely just the way Petyr Baelish wanted it. How is one supposed to pin down the crimes of a man whom presents himself with no clear motive? One which used every filthy trick he could conjure up in order to deceive any who was finding out. Or worse, trick until he watched the ones in his way make their way to the executioners block. It was far easier to get what you wanted if you send those in your way to their death. And Jon knew without a doubt, it was attempted with you. Killing a respected and beloved Queen of a kingdom thousands of miles away had to be done in a complicated manner, especially as to not trace its sources back.

He had manipulated Ned Stark to the point it led to his head being taken while right in his proximity the entire time, but this was not Kings Landing. He did not have an in of power within the North, nor Jons council and closest men. The man desperately needed his key to the North to lay with Sansa, but the power of the North lay beyond one person. It lay in the responsibility of many now, and all whom knew not to trust a single word out of that mans mouth.

Jon had been back for less then a day, but already he felt the stress mounting on his shoulders as long as Petyr Baelish roamed free within his lands and home.

But silent frustration would not lead Jon to an answer, not really. Narrowing his eyes to the spot of the wooden table he happened to be trapped on, he gave the simplest start to the previous posed question by Lord Howland with your name to start. “Me and her were gone for months, he tried to get rid of her before. Now without either of us here, he thought it was a perfect time to get his hands on another land he doesn’t deserve.”

The group in the room was as small as Jon could bring together, dividing his closest allies between he and you to ensure at no times were his own people in a position to be manipulated by whatever this was. Arya stood closer to his side, her own knowledge of the man much closer then himself as she piped up. “If he didn’t know about Robb’s will, then he would think he’s right in pursuing the North through Sansa, but he isn’t. So why is he still here, he has nothing.”

Theon however, had the quickest answer with the solution closest to what sounded accurate as he gestured across the table to Jon. “Because of you.” Heads turned to Jon and then back to Theon as Jon watched with a patient silence for him to elaborate. “He’s born from a minor House, but according to most of Westeros, he’s still higher up then you. If he can find a way to delegitimize you in the eyes of the North because your a bastard, then he can push Sansa’s claim front and centre. A highborn girl with her closest advisor being a man from a minor house who used to be on the small council in Kings Landing sounds more plausible to him then not being able to overthrow one bastard.”

Arya beside him tried to argue that no one here was going to turn on him, and Lord Howland at least approached it with a little more calm then her clear growing agitation, not that Jon blamed her. “He may think he does not even need to do as much, only that he needs to cause enough instability that will cause the people to doubt your capability.”

For once, Jon didn’t feel the insecurity of doubt following him all his life. This time was different, he knew he could do this, and he knew these people better then Petyr Baelish ever would. Only this time instead of using Jons father to manipulate his way into getting what he wants, he was using Jons little sister. How much Sansa was in on these plans, he didn’t know and he wouldn’t if she was not yet willing to confront Jon.

He knew why, it was a strange position for her to be in. She expected to be welcome here with open arms to be crowned Queen, only to find her bastard brother had her crown and in the laws set by Robb himself, she had no rights to any of it no matter what. She was always a bit difficult for Jon to deal with when they both were younger, but the five years spent apart had not made that any better. It only drew them further apart, and too Jon knew he needed to tackle this in a way that was just, but also would not drive her away. What of the Starks left were all here where they belonged, together.

What she needed, was a way to be reminded she was still one of them, and yet the ones left were the siblings least equipped to handle it. Arya and her had not picked their relationship back up on anything close to a good note, Bran had been so far removed from the events of her life that on top of what was happening with him this was the least of his concerns. And Jon was the bastard brother who had taken her crown.

Only one person in Winterfell was equipped to handle Sansa, but it was the one person Jon refused to throw into such a mess yet. Afterall, Jon was not the only one who had only been home for less then a single day.

Sending you off to deal with his little sister, was the opposite of ensuring you were getting proper rest.

You were fairly certain if Jon could’ve gotten away with ordering the guards not to let you leave the room, he would have. Instead, he was far more clever then that. Send people your way after you were awake, which would entertain you enough that wanting to leave and wander become unnecessary. Currently you were sitting by a small table near the side of the room, gently picking at the food in front of you watching with a barely hidden grin at the sight.

He would argue that Olly was still technically considered your steward and he was simply ensuring someone brought you up things you needed. You had not yet considered what Jon had been doing at first, distracted too much by how swiftly you both went to hug the other.

It had not passed either you or him, how motherly it felt to pull back and instantly begin commenting on how much he had grown since you were gone. A small twelve year old boy the day he came in confused and devastated tears at the gates of Castle Black with the story of what the wildlings had done, and now at half fourteen he was closing in on your height, and the starting in his voice deepening no longer like a child.

It was odd to think now, that how he came into your life had distantly begun with a horrific day where he had been the sole survivor of a massacre. The way he told it to you that day in Castle Black when he confessed to what he had done, what Ser Alliser had used against him to manipulate him into that crime. You could recall realizing in his descriptions that Tormund had been part of that band of wildlings, but yet he was the first person you had met that morning who so quickly made you feel as if you had a true ally on your side. And how that trusting feeling had never stopped.

Though, you almost didn’t want Tormund to come to Winterfell, you imagined very much that his reaction to learning about the baby and what happened? It no doubt would be as loud and boisterous as the rest of his personality. Unlike the sweet and gentle sight before you.

Carrying him as he paced him around the room a little to settle him, little Eddard was taking to Olly rather well. Looking to the baby then you, he asked in a bit of curious wonder, “Is it normal he’s this small?”

Shaking your head lightly, you swallowed the liquid you sipped down before tilting your head a bit as you explained in the least detailed of terms. “He was born quite early. We had expected to already be in Winterfell when my time was near, but we were still a week away from Castle Black when he came into the world.” Your own eyes were soft looking at the wide green eyes on your son, dressed in oversized clothes as Maege and your mother had ensured you one of today's tasks would be having clothes made to fit him personally.

Turning to look back at you, Olly clearly looked surprised. “You gave birth out there? How?”

Not quite a shrug came over your shoulder as you slowly made your way through the food still, knowing you’d hear it the moment either Maege or your mother returned that you hadn’t even made it half through yet. “Women of the free folk gave birth beyond the Wall for thousands of years.” Olly though, was clever in pointing out that he presumed they would have people and help around, and your head dropped a little. “I’m sure they did, but, there was no where we could go for help. We could only pray to the gods that at least the little one there was born safe and alive, if nothing else.”

Ollys brows narrowed, he was too clever you knew. Picking up on the lack of emphasis on your own survival, but in the moment it was true. It was Jon and the baby you feared for, not you. Coming a little closer, it was not meant to be argumentative but likely it came out as such regardless. “His life isn’t more important then yours.” You didn’t react, nor even blink, but as Olly did it shook out the tone he had hissed out as he came closer in a higher pitched grovel. “I’m sorry, your Grace. I didn’t mean it as-”

Cutting him off gently, you gave a small smile. “I know what you meant.” Nodding for him somewhat to take the empty seat still across from you, a feeling of guilt came about. The ease which he shifted the baby to not jostle him as he sat down, you had no doubt were he given the chance, Olly would’ve been a wonderful older brother.

Sighing out, his tone balanced between his proper attempts of formality and a pleading more of reason to explain himself away, even though you both were aware you did not need him to. “I only meant that your life was not less valuable then his, or anyone's.”

Eyes flickering downward, they were a tint of heavy as you once more attempted to push away the thoughts which derived from thinking too strongly back to that day, the pain and blood not something that you could so easily discuss. Perhaps that was how you truly knew now that something had gone terribly wrong. You feared even thinking back to it when every mother you had known could speak of their own with no pain in the memory. “It isn’t a situation which has never happened before. Life or death, choosing to save the mother or send her life away to safely birth her unborn child. The gods do not often give women in that sort of pain, the gift of both.” In the ensuing quiet, did you stumble across a ping in your mind which you would’ve hated to forget.

Hidden away down in the tightly wound laces of your waist, you pulled a folded piece of paper, reaching across the table to sit it down in front of Olly, as you explained. Peeking nearly unnoticeably at the door as you did so. “When you make your leave, I need one more thing of you. Find Dalaric for me and give him that, tell him I need it to be to those exact specifications.”

“Dalaric, you mean the-”

Cutting him off shortly, you affirmed such details. “Yes. As soon as you can and that I’ll need it brought to me specifically once it’s finished.” Olly did not look to what it was he was delivering but you knew the curiosity was there, regardless of how you knew he would not presume to look nor ask. For now, it was a small project you preferred to work on in the quiet.

A small noise coming from the baby caught both of your attention as it brought out the grin in Olly quickly again. Both of you standing up in knowing, “I think, your Grace, he’s had enough of me for one day.” Lifting him up easily, still wrapped even clothed in a soft blanket, you knew until he was grown to his full proper size, keeping him warm was more important then most newborns. Draping little Eddard across your front, cupping the back of his head as you leaned down to press a kiss gentle to the top of his head, an even smaller sound almost like a satisfied hum left the baby.

“He hasn’t spent much time around any sort of crowd. I imagine getting him used to so many new faces will take a bit of time.” Olly only jested in return that with how many faces would want to see the babies, he hoped that time was short. A chuckle came from you as you shifted the little one to lay more comfortably against you should he once more decide to retire to sleep. “You are not wrong there, Olly. I’m almost shocked there isn’t a line outside my door to meet him.”

As if on a cue, the guards outside announced the return of Maege and your mother, nodding down to the paper on the table. Hiding it away, Olly gave you and both women now behind him as he turned, a small bow before leaving the room to you three.

Almost right away you yearned for him to come back, recognizing the direction both their eyes drifted towards and the lack of satisfaction found in their proceeding gazes. “What is it? I can’t take my time eating at my own pace?”

Your mother was quick as she walked further into the room, placing whatever it was in her hands down onto the furs of the bed with a shortness of a lecturing tone you were all too familiar with. “At such a rate, if we relied solely on you eating at your own pace, you’d have starved to death nearly a year ago.” The flat fallen expression was not seen by her, but you and your mother knew she could feel it as she had for most of your attitude riddled life.

Maege attempted to offer to take him to free your hands, but both of the women’s stubbornness was increasing your own as you sat down with him still. “He’s resting, he wanted to be close. I can eat with one hand, you know?”

The sheer degree of stubborn, snark, and attitude when the three of you were in the room together was almost astronomical. Clearly, the two of them had spent much time together in your absence and their individual motherly natures have now focused in on you alone, much to your dismay. Maege at the least, sat down across from you with words less lecturing. “You may be under orders to rest, but we’re under orders to make sure you rest. I’m guessing the last thing you want is to add the King into this room of lecture you.”

Your mother turned slightly with a raised brow only to notice the held back amusement in both your faces as if having a form of staring competition until you broke. Continuing to work your way through the food, you mumbled as you swallowed it down. “One could be mistaken in thinking I’m the infant in need of watching, not him.” Gesturing handlessly down to the bundle before turning to look at your mother. “What is it you are even doing over there?”

Not bothering to turn to you, she continued to put together, what you could now see, fabrics in front of her. “I took the liberty to have some of your dresses made with alterations. If you decide you wish to keep feeding him yourself, you will have a far harder time in what you normally wear.”

Your brows narrowed at her phrasing, but let it pass by. It was still too early for a back and forth with your mother of all people, let alone whoever’s side Maege was going to take. Which could be either at that point. Though you had a keen instinct as to what was going to be coming your way, and you had little patience in you that morning to tackle it.

Though, that did not stop something from slipping out, much to Maege’s amusement. “If I am to be shackled to my bed for the time being, I’m not quite sure dresses for public wear will be needed.” Your mother turned sharply, returning back that it was not her orders, you turned away with a mutter which still managed to cut her off as you spoke down to the droopy eyed Eddard laying against you. “Tell me if I begin to sound this bossy with you before it becomes a habit, alright?”

Still you thought, you could get rest and wander about the inside of the castle. You were not quite sure what it was which was making Jon want you to be hidden away. Or from what he was doing. The darkness in your stomach grew at the instance the thought entered your mind, and you begged for it to go away. Only it didn’t, it festered there as you ate. Mocking you for what you weren’t. You had hoped this fog had passed, but it was as if you woke up that morning back in a full force. Whispering things you didn’t have the awareness yet to see through as lies. And so they ate away at your anxiety.

Perhaps you didn’t want to know what Jon was hiding from you.

If judging by the frustration on Theons face, Jon could tell this day was going to go as well as he anticipated. Closing the door behind with with an exasperated tone, “Next time someone wants me to bring him all the way here, I’m gagging him.” Jons eyes narrowed in question but it was the deep set sigh on Theon that gave it away. “Loves the sound of his own voice, asking dozens of questions trying to get inside my head.”

Jon however, felt as tense as he no doubt looked. “What was he asking?”

Circling more around the table to where Jon stood, Theon begun listing many off to the point Jon wondered if the mans head was about to implode. “Then he starts asking me about how she survived that night.” Jons brows narrowed suddenly, focusing back in on the conversation he asked who, and felt even more on edge when realizing it was you the man was asking about. “How she survived at the Twins, how did she get away.”

“What did you tell him?”

Shaking his head, Theon was less aggravated as the more quiet of the study eased. “I didn’t tell him anything. Last thing I want is for him to pry into what happened to her.” That at the minimum was something Jon could agree with. Though, the phantom sensation of knives plunging into his own chest was something he at this point was sure was a story heard by many.

Lord Connington knew because Lord Varys’s many spies had word get back to them no doubt. Petyr Baelish had spies too, and Jon could only wonder what he has heard. If he had a clue what sort of place he truly had walked into. The North was a harsh and unforgiving place with little mercy, and it’s people were raised to endure as much as the lands around them. Death had only increased such a resolve in Jon.

Asking where he was currently, Theon gave an answer which Jon did not like. Though by the time he approached there, once more he noticed his little sister was nowhere to be found. Jon knew Littlefinger had come inside the castle walls to talk to Sansa, but he did not like the feeling he was getting. Arya kept track of where she was, but since he arrived back, as long as Petyr Baelish was here, Sansa seemed to avoid Jon and he couldn’t help but consider why.

He had nowhere near the closeness with her as he did Arya, but she was his sister. Jon though, was a man. Which meant he knew the sorts of things which run through mens heads, and not for a second did he like the feeling of how close Littlefinger had gotten to her. Or at least, the kind of closeness a man his age had no right having around an eighteen year old girl. A girl he’s known since she was a child.

Jon knew what you had told him, and he had not a clue if Littlefinger knew what he knew. But as he approached, the only sounds around him were that of footsteps along the crackling fire. He hadn’t been down here since arriving back, but it couldn’t be about that right now. He had to focus on what was right in front of him.

And right in front of Jon was Petyr Baelish, standing in front of the burial statue of Ned Stark. His voice spoke out loud, the echo bouncing along the walls and down into the abyss beyond them with a deep toned authority and a lack of patience. “You don’t belong down here.”

Unperturbed by his abrasive approach, Littlefinger turned with a bow and a smile that made Jon want to force off of him with something strong enough to leave a mark in its place. “Your Grace.”

Jon though, did not waver as he repeated himself. Just as firm, and his voice still projecting in the crypts as if to warn the buried members of House Stark that a rat had invaded their peace. “I said you don’t belong down here.”

A small wave of his hands as if to make a gesture lacking of ill intent, but Jon knew that smile and that glint in his eyes. He had seen that look on men who looked down on him before. It was the sort of way that Lord Janos Slynt looked at him. Though, the man before him did not yet realize such irony. “I was merely paying my respects. I had ordered the delivery of his bones myself. I presented them to Lady Catelyn as a gesture of goodwill from Tyrion Lannister during the war.”

Did Jon dare confront the issue starting now? Perhaps, he thought, if he came off abrasive at the start, he might come across as quick tempered but slow minded. For now Jon thought, that was fine. Let him think he was the smartest man in the room. “A war you sided against my family in.”

He almost looked amused, which made Jon angrier. He within seconds, was beginning to understand why his Uncle Brandon had so easily accepted a duel. It must have been satisfying. But Littlefinger merely stated a simple defence. “I already served the crown before the war, to act otherwise would be treason. I didn’t see the purpose in following your father to the grave. I’m a practical man.”

“But not a loyal one.”

The two facing one another, Littlefinger was as quick on an aggravatingly clever reply as you once had made him out to seem. “And who would you have me be loyal to? Your fathers corpse?” Jon said nothing, letting him speak for himself despite the rising anger to have the audacity to speak that way about his father in front of his own burial. “I was sorry when he died, truly I was.” Jon doubted that. “Your father and I had our differences, but he was a good man. Deserved a death better then what a boy like Joffery had given him.”

It was small, but Jon had spent years in the Nights Watch. Picking up small details in the eyes of men anytime a girl was mentioned always gave something away. “My sister, Sansa. She was there that day?”

There was no egregious change in his expression, but that was the detail wasn’t it? That glint in his eye at the story of a little girl watching her fathers beheading should have elicited something far more sympathetic then what he gave. “Joffery had his Kingsgaurd hold her back to watch. I’d even go as far to say he enjoyed her pleading for him to change his mind.”

Jon kept his words short. “And you didn’t?”

“Joffery was King. I’m not a fighter, only a man of business.” Letting him stand in the silence, Jons eyes merely narrowed but spoke nothing. Forcing Littlefinger to speak all of his own admissions. “I was on your fathers side. Robert named him protector of the realm and I begged him to seize the moment and take control before it was too late. And then it was. Pardon my surprise, but I would have presumed your bride would have told you these details.”

Blood running hot, a screaming as if needing to see you here and now as the memories of the last time a man would refer to you in such a specific term. But Jon could not tell if he knew, if he called you it on purpose. How much did this man know about you? Only saying as much to not allow him to presume to demean your position in any capacity, even alone. “She is my wife, my Lord. Not my bride.” Voice rough as it forced itself through the pain which accompanied the words all over again.

“My apologies. Your wife. How did such an arrangement come about? A man in the Nights Watch, yourself. And the realm had known her to be dead for well over a year.” Prodding his mind about you, just as he had tried with Theon. It was not the direction he was going to let this take, Jon was not about to drag your name into this after everything.

Instead, Jon without hesitation, shifted the discussion back to the previous. “I’ve heard lots of stories from her. About Kings Landing, about the war. About you.” Repeating only to clarify himself, Jon gave but a single nod. “A few, none of them good.”

He seemed unphased by much of this conversation, and it only made Jon grow angrier. “You may have heard false reports-” Jon cut in, a demanding ask if he was to call you a liar, but then did he backtrack. A wider eyed look as if realizing he had taken a step which would not go in his favour whatsoever. “Not a liar. Merely mistaken. She has been through much I presume, memories can become a bit unclear after suffering a great deal as she has, and it was so many years ago. Almost as if a lifetime ago.”

If he thought Jon didn’t know what this was, he was not nearly as smart as he thought. It was a lifetime ago, for you and Jon. But this was the last person he would open up to about it. “So you’re innocent. You didn’t betray her and my father, didn’t trick Lady Catelyn into betraying her and Robb?”

Lowering his head a little as if to present himself more agreeable. “A misunderstanding, your Grace. After all, if I had betrayed so much of your family, why would I have gone out of my way to bring Lady Sansa back home safe and sound?”

Not yet, Jon told himself. Don’t press him on that yet, he told himself. As little as Jon liked hearing his sisters name coming from such an unsettling voice. His person now looking to face his father once more, but what Theon said was right. This man talked far too much.

Continuing on as if they were now chummy. “She wasn’t very fond of you, was she? Lady Catelyn. A shame, since she seems to have vastly underestimated you. Your father and brothers are gone, and yet here you stand. King in the North.”

Jon however, let part of that tenseness within him snap. Jaw clenched as he turned somewhat back to peel his dark eyes into a glare. “Why are you still here?”

His answer only made Jons glare grow even more. “We have never spoken before. I’ve known much of your family, but not you. I wished to remedy that.” It was not quite a lie, it was dressed in true clothing but what lay hidden underneath was a vast cavern of question and demands and anger which begged to be let out, as Jon gritted through his teeth that he had nothing more to say to him. “Not even a thank you? Were it not for me, your sister would have been found guilty for Jofferys murder. I would have been bringing her remains here instead of her living person.”

Attempting to placate him, Littlefinger chose a path which unbeknownst to Jon, was all too familiar from so many years ago. Playing his hand at honesty and wit far too close to a bordering edge of a wolf with a hot blooded temper. “You have many enemies, your Grace. But I swear to you I am not one of them. I care deeply about Sansa. Just as I did her mother.”

Playing the wrong hand was one thing, but playing the hand confirming exactly what Jon had feared was really behind the mans intentions was another. The exact thing Jon knew was really going on, brought out into the light for him to see. Everything his little sister had been through, and it all led to her thinking this was the only man she could put her trust in, just the way Jon knew Littlefinger wanted.

Turning on him in an instant, before he had a single chance to grasp what was about to happen, did Jon let a hand grab at the front of the mans throat. Using his strength easily to slam him against the adjacent wall enough that Jon had to readjust his grip when Littlefingers head slammed into it roughly. But not nearly as rough as the ease in which Jon blocked any path of air to come from his lungs.

Useless at trying to pry the one hand Jon was all but strangling him with, the stutters of sound trying to crack out were as pathetic as a man like him was deep down. Only catching his eye properly did Jon loosen his grip. The roughness in voice all but a growl, as he now knew exactly what it was he really wanted. That Littlefinger had put the pieces in place to trick a thirteen year old girl into thinking he was the only one who had her well being in mind, and spent the next five years keeping her as close as he could to him.

So Jon was blatantly honest for the first time since meeting the man, and he knew it. “Touch my sister, and I’ll kill you myself.”

Shoving off from him by the hand at his throat Jon turned to leave, any second longer alone and he’d do something he would regret. Leaving Petyr Baelish behind leaning against the wall trying to regain air as he realized that Jon Snow wasn’t going to be a mark the way his father was. Ned Stark had done nearly the same, but with a condescension in his voice for hiding Catelyn away in a brothel.

“You’re a funny man, huh? A very funny man.”

But then it was the appearance of the woman in question poking her head out to grasp his attention, swiftly leaving Petyr behind to pull himself together. The way which the Stark had glared at him as Cat promised they could trust him, not unlike the very glare on the son here, himself. Or the one many years before when it was Brandon Stark overlooking him with a sword to his throat, before Cat had pleaded to spare his life. But there was one thing that Jon Snow was which Ned nor Brandon Stark were not, he realized.

The Starks he knew before were violent and quick tempered, but Petyr Baelish stood there glancing up to the stern statue of Ned Stark and thought to himself. Jon wasn’t violent and quick tempered alone, he was a truly dangerous man.

Nothing but Jon Snow’s own self control spared Petyr’s life.

If you were being perfectly honest, you knew that you should have been far more mature then this. But it was too late to take it back, and the agitation was so obvious on your person it was like water clean enough the fish could be seen swimming along under its surface. Only the fish here was an insecurity marred in a stubbornness that you couldn’t make go away.

You didn’t even have a clue Jon was anywhere nearby when it happened, considering hardly a few minutes of quiet had been found before he walked in. Holding your son up high in a soothing rocking up and down to lull him to sleep after it was all said and done, knowing you likely looked somewhat a mess when he walked in, you almost felt embarrassed for how not put together you looked in front of him.

Not put together was one way to phrase it, the darker pit in your gut called it what it was. How unattractive you looked was a far more honest description, the darkness hissed at your insides. Jon though, seemed to pretend for now as if he didn’t care when you knew he did. Gesturing to the hall as he closed the door with an amused glint in his eye. “Is there a reason the wet nurse came up to me upset saying you were shouting at her?”

A hesitation in your movements, wide eyes coming over before smothering it all by returning focus back to the still falling asleep one in your arms. Just a murmur with a pinch of knowing shame of how immature it had been. “Likely because I shouted at her” Jons ask of why as calm and simple, but now you could add erratic to the list of things making you so unappealing to him. “I don’t need her help, I can feed my son perfectly fine on my own.”

Sensing Jon walking closer, you willed yourself not to tense up at the gentle hand smoothing out the more messy strands of hair down your back. His rasp was warm and amused as it was affectionate but it was all an act, it had to be. “She’s also here to help you, you know? Take care of you while you’re recovering.”

Biting your tongue, you looked down to the slumbering Eddard with a softness on your voice not often heard towards adults that day. “She was insistent they could feed him while I slept. I didn’t want that, I’d rather get little sleep and feed him myself then hand him over to someone who doesn’t know him.”

It was very difficult to figure out what Jons tone was, you felt as if the fog from days ago on the journey to the Wall had returned today and in front of Jon it was stronger then ever. His gentle mutterings followed with one hand holding you at your hip, as the other smoothed up and down your upper arm as he pressed himself somewhat behind you. “Alright, no more wet nurses.”

Nodding a small bit, you still hadn’t looked at him. But did you want to ask yourself why? No. So you spoke while still not looking away from his son. “We got him this far together, as long as he has us, that’s all he needs.”

Your heart begun to race the second the thought came to you. Did that sound as if you were trying to beg Jon to be here? Begging him to play a role he didn’t want? Forcing him into something against his will, but when you glanced up at him, you almost talked yourself out of it. Hair still up, everything he wore in place, weapons all still attached, looked not like he had not done anything your fogging mind was scared of. But in truth, he had been busy all day. Jon had plenty of time to get himself back together.

And you couldn’t even grant him the sight of a pretty, calm wife at the end of his first day back in Winterfell. Pulling you comfortably into his front, Jon playfully nudged the side of your head before pressing his lips to mutter in the same spot. “We all need each other.”

He was playing along. He didn’t need you. He needed you to raise his son. Not that you blamed nor judged him. It was your fault you had let yourself look and act so pathetic, not Jons for disliking that about you now.

Pressing a kiss now to below your ear, he rasped in a way you had suddenly wondered if any other had got to experience today. All you could hear were the things Cersei had told you to the point it took you a moment to register Jon had even said anything. “Did you want to come down to eat, or do you want me to bring you something so we can eat together up here?”

Neither, you wanted him to do what he wanted not placate your pathetic needs. So you lied. “Olly brought me something earlier, you go eat. I’m fine here.” Jon asked if you were sure, but you bit your tongue so hard you almost flinched as you nodded. An unpleasant warmth behind your face and stinging eyes, Jon tried to tilt you with finger gently under your chin likely for a kiss. So he still wanted that. You had something. Cupping the back of your head caressingly, Jon captured your lips in a deep yet still somehow chaste kiss. Pulling away only so much you felt his lips and breath warm on yours with every word. “How about I bring something up here that you can pick it, at least? So we can eat together.”

You had not a clue the degree to which Jon was picking up the very insecure manner which you were trying to shove him out the door. “It’s fine, Jon. Other people want to spend time with you too.”

But you didn’t look at him, and with one more kiss and a tender murmur that he loves you, Jon left the room. Leaving only the crackling fire behind, and a hunger in you which had not eaten since that morning. He didn’t need to have people see you at this side looking and behaving this way. And Jon was too nice to tell you, he was grateful you weren’t forcing him to. Eddard would be long asleep and gone to the world by the time Jon would return tonight.

Hopefully it would give you enough time to get ready. At least try to appear like a girl he still wants.

The advantage Arya had at this stage in her life, was that she still was far more quiet then most gave her credit for. At least in terms of sneaking up upon someone, as she was now. Hiding away on one of the more remote landings above the courtyard, the blacks and greys adorning her person were nothing like Arya had seen Sansa dress in before. It looked as if she wished to be perceived as intimidating, as was the scowl which sat upon her face more often then not these days.

The entire look reminded her too well the way Littlefinger did, and was dressing. One influencing the other, and even the style which she recognized her sisters hair in was much like ones she had seen time and time again on Cersei during their stay in Kings Landing. Nowhere even on her did see even a hint of anything even remotely looking like the Stark sigil, not even the fur around her shoulders was right. She could tell in an instant it wasn’t one made here, but whatever they would’ve used in the Vale.

Arya hadn’t recognized Sansa the last time either. By the end she dressed and wore her hair like every other proper southern girl in the capitol and not a hint of it reminded Arya of home. But even now, still as they both stood there, it still didn’t feel as if she came home. It felt like a stranger had walked in wearing Sansa’s skin. The thought would’ve felt amusingly ironic to Arya had she not been too distracted in the contrast.

For years, Arya felt like the one who did not fit in. The years Sansa would call her ugly, saying she was so hideous only Hodor would marry her. The manner in which she and her friends would look down at her and call her Arya Horseface as long as no one else was around. Arya never felt like she looked as beautiful as her mother was, as Sansa was and the later always was sure to remind her of that. Arya felt as if she never fit in, but yet, this time Sansa was the one standing out in the wrong way.

She looked out of place everywhere she went and made few attempts to reconnect or introduce herself to most of the people here. But things were not last time, Arya did not approach her sister in silence hoping to demean her or insult her, there was no use in that anymore. They did that as children. But she would not hold her feelings back, no matter how aggressive she knew she was to come off as.

“You haven’t spoken to either of them, have you?”

With almost a gasp, Sansa spun around in a startle. Looking down to Arya with wide eyes turning narrow, “What are you doing here?” Only a flat expression on her face she simply replied rather obviously that she lived here too. Sansa’s eyes dropped from their wider stance to something more annoyed right away. “I meant what are you doing sneaking up on me?”

Only a shrug came to her as Arya approached. Standing beside her sister resting her forearms along the wooden railing before finding her voice, still as jesting as it was knowingly a tone which annoyed Sansa every time. “It isn’t my fault you’re oblivious to what’s around you.” Whatever glare was sent her way, went unacknowledged for a moment. Giving her the chance to respond on her own, but the sounds of distant talking and yelling were all down below not between the two of them for a good minute.

By the time she found her words, Sansa had already started to put up excuses as if Arya had not learned to see right through them. “They only just got back, I’m waiting for them to settle in first.”

Quick though, she didn’t let that one stand. “You haven’t seen them, either of them for years.” Your name slipping from her mouth in a rising frustration. “We all spent what? A year? Two? Thinking she was still dead. You haven’t spoken to Jon since before we left for Kings Landing and after everything you refuse to go see them. Why?” Sansa tried to implore that she had just said why but Arya took none of it. “Are you too afraid to face them or do you just not care?”

That it so happened, set off something within Sansa’s own anger. Turning to her with an edge behind her raising tone. “Of course I care, Arya. Do you think I was happy thinking everyone else was dead?”

Facing her as well, even the height Sansa had grown since she last saw her, Arya was nowhere near that but did not let it intimidate her. “I don’t know what you think, you haven’t said anything to any of us about it. Any of it. You haven’t told anybody anything about you. Ask what happened to us.” The next word came from her mouth with a thick layer of spite to coat them in. “Or is Littlefinger the only one you trust now?”

“Don’t call him that-”

Twisting her expression into a disbelief, Arya almost felt herself scoff. “That’s what you got out of everything I just said. That I called him a nickname you don’t like. Instead of explaining at all why you trust a man who betrayed father, who betrayed all of us, more then once.” Her voice was raising, and knew Sansa’s too would raise with it.

“He helped us, he helped me escape Kings Landing. Whatever you think he did, it was because he had to, did things to survive to help me survive.” Jon had only been able to speculate a truth, but Arya then heard the truth that put something in her on edge. “Without him, the Lannisters would have found me guilty for murder.”

The question came out of nowhere. “Did you?” Sansa’s head jolted back a bit at the sudden change, Aryas eyes narrow but penetrating in an unnerving manner. “Did you kill Joffery?”

Yet Sansa’s answer was not what she was expecting. “Do you think I did?” Arya at first, said nothing. The girl she once knew was a firm no. That Sansa was not a killer, but she did not yet know about this one, and when this version possibly became someone capable of it. Sansa though, had inadvertently found the root of something Arya had long dug deep inside of her. “Could you have done it, if you had the chance. Would you kill Joffery?”

Arya however, for a brief moment, did not see the stranger wearing her sisters name. Nor the sister who bullied her for their entire childhoods. She only saw the sister who at some point as young girls, still felt like her sister. The one who when very small, would clamber to your side because back then Sansa so strongly adored you. The one who would remain attached to you all day long if she could. Back in the years sometimes you three could all feel like sisters together. For even just that moment, thats who Arya felt as if she was speaking too, and she was honest the way she would’ve been then. “I wanted to. Ever since that day at the Sept of Baelor, I wanted to kill him. Everyday I thought about it. Killing him, Cersei, Illyn Payne. I’d say their names before I went to sleep. Like I wouldn’t be able too until I did. He murdered father and got away with it, and I wanted to make sure father got justice, to get justice for what they all did to our family.”

With no way of knowing, Arya had not a clue that Sansa stood there in silence, remembering her own want to do just that. How close she came to be willing to throw her life away, to just push Joffery from the ledge of the walls and watch him plunge to his death the day he forced her to look at her fathers head. She knew that feeling too well, and how the only thing which brought her out of that moment was the sudden snatching from Sandor Clegane, stopping her from doing something stupid for her own sake, then covering up for what she was about to do.

Before her, Arya continued, and she was sure she hadn’t spoken any of it out loud before. And yet here she was for the first time, saying it to Sansa of all people. “When I heard Joffery was dead, part of me was annoyed. Every night for years I spent saying his name because I needed to give our family some kind of justice for what he did to us, and that was taken away. But really, it didn’t matter anymore by then. Because it still wouldn’t have changed that I thought everyone was gone.”

She refused to go back to that night, the sights, the horrors, the blood and the nightmare which outside of the tears falling as Arya and you hugged, she refused to recall. Arya stood there knowing the feeling, and did not allow the sights and sounds come with it. “I wanted it to make me happy that he was dead finally. But I just felt...empty.” Your name once again coming out without noticing the strange doubt in Sansa’s gaze toward it. “She was dead, Robb’s still dead. Joffery had finally died, but they were too. What did it matter?” Looking back up with something as held back as it was genuine in a distant pain she told Sansa, “Maybe once I could’ve killed Joffery. But by the time he died, what was the point in getting justice for a family I’d never see again.”

Something was brewing in the gaze behind her older sisters eyes, but Arya could not so easily detect it outright. It was hard to read on someone she barley knew anymore. A confused distance at within her voice as much as it was hesitant in her eyes. “Why do you keep saying she died?” Aryas brows narrowed in question, and Sansa clarified further she meant you. “You keep saying she was dead, but she’s not dead. The Lannisters lied about that. Why do people keep saying that she was dead?” Her voice dropped into something she was clearly even more confused about, which Arya realized she knew she did not have the answer to. “Why do I keep hearing people talk about her as if she brought Jon back from the dead?”

Arya still could see at least once. The sight of your corpse so bloodied, and mutilated that it was not only you which was drenched in your blood, but those who mindlessly tossed your body to lock it away and do what Arya feared she would not wish to know too. The unsettled manner in which neither you nor Jon wanted to talk about his death or how he came back. Not in a way as if he could not back up such claims as they were lies, but a memory he dared not look back on because it was still too fresh.

Arya had known you were dead, and had confirmation from more then one source that Jon had been too. Everything she learned in Bravvos, but none answered that question. She did not understand it when Beric Dondarrion and Thoros of Myr spoke of it to her, and she still did not understand it when watching in a gut wrenching horror, the sight of what became of her mothers corpse walking with an angry vengeful spirit within it.

All this knowledge, and Arya did not understand a single bit about it. But she was still honest in the only true way she could say. “Because they were dead. Both of them. They were both stabbed to death, and now they’re not.” Sansa it sounded as if she did not believe it, but not in such an accusatory way of calling her a liar. It was more as if Aryas genuinity made the lack of beleivability of the claim come off as eerie to her, only asking how that would be possible. “I don’t know.”

Sansa had yet to really have a reaction, almost as if her mind did not know how to react as opposed to keeping such a feeling only internal in front of Arya. “Then how do you know that’s true?”

But Arya only looked at her. She should have realized what so many of them did by now. Something about them was different, it was why she could accept such a thing like what she saw from Beric Dondarrion. It was in Arya, it was in Jon, it was in Bran. They all knew it, but why would Sansa not realize the world was not what she once thought? If was as if her sister still walked the world not knowing that something in their blood was making them different, was allowing them to do things no one else seemed to be able too. Still she thought, Sansa deserved some explanation.

So she told her. She had not a clue how you returned to life, but that she did know without a doubt, that you were the one who brought Jon back. “I don’t know how she did it, or if she even knows how, but she did. And I know that they both died to get to where they are, but you haven’t even spoken to them once. Why? Beacuse you can’t see passed that you think Jon stole your crown.”

A defence begun to come up in Sansa, a mixture of anger and half exasperation. Arya could not tell if it was what she solely thought, or if it was simply an excuse for her confusion. “Jon was in the Nights Watch, he couldn’t inherit anything even if he wasn’t a bastard.”

Arya felt no need to yell anymore, just something in her expression twisting in almost a disapproval as well as her tone. “You still don’t get it, do you? You still can’t see passed that about him, as if it matters, as if Robb didn’t leave the North to Jon because he was his brother. Jon’s your brother too, but you still can’t just treat him like it.”

Whatever words Sansa tried to speak, Arya did not allow them to come into the air. “If you cared about Jon, you would’ve gone to see him already. It’s been five years Sansa. He wanted you to come home as much as I did, and ever since you got here, you’ve let a man who betrayed our family into our walls, and ignored the only Starks who are left.”

Her own voice dropped as well, neither sister quite knowing where the other stood, or even what they felt within themselves. “It’s more complicated then that Arya.”

Shaking her head, Arya was quiet. “It really isn’t. But you’ve let Petyr Baelish of all people convince you otherwise and you come home trusting him more then your own family.” Arya could still hear her fathers voice that day in her chambers, pulling her close to his side with his comforting voice saying what he knew she needed to hear, hoping if she said it now, it would be the same for Sansa. “We’re Starks of Winterfell. In the winter, we look after each other. Protect each other. But all you’ve proven since coming back is you don’t want to really be part of this. All you came here caring about was getting a crown, and now that you learned it doesn’t belong to you, you’ve avoided all of us like you aren’t still one of us.”

A held back weight notably sat in Sansa’s throat as she tried to let her words out without interruption of her own doing. “You have no idea what I’ve been through.”

Arya though, only told her the same truth as before. “And you have no idea what any of us have been through. Because you really still haven’t come home, have you?”

Words not spoken between them for a moment, Sansa had found the discussion to circle back around to one of her first questions before the shouting match between them. “You never answered me, do you think I killed Joffery?” Arya that time, did not hesitate to say no. And neither sister could tell if that made them feel better or worse. Almost walking away, Arya held back whatever she was going to say which would only reignite the anger between them.

Instead she turned half around to meet Sansa’s eyes again. “I wanted you to come home because your my sister. I just wish you would try and remember that for once.”

Swiftly did Arya make her way indoors to the warmth, but leaving behind the watchful gaze of her sister with a confusion still in her mind and heart. Turning to the courtyard as she had been watching out on before, did Sansa see Petyr in the distance. But with everything he had said to her that morning, the only thing Sansa could convince herself to do in that moment instead of what he said, was to follow in Aryas footsteps.

Walking off without acknowledging him any further.

In truth, the contrast of conversations was almost amusing were Jon aware of the discussion previously held been Arya and Sansa. The seriousness between them then, and yet as Jon walked beside his sister now did he find her much more energetic and enthusiastic attitude mixed with an annoyed bit of a whine familiar as if no time had passed. “I didn’t say I want to get in the way, I just want to know when I’ll be allowed to see her and the baby.”

Running a hand over his mouth, Jon felt as amused at her as he did unsure of what he should say. He didn’t want you to feel ambushed by people, not now of all times. He knew the next morning you and the baby were going to see Maester Wolkan, and Jon had begun to think he might push certain things back to the late morning to accompany you. Hear and see with his own eyes if you two were where you needed to be physically, and stay behind after you leave. A few questions of his own before it got out of hand, but he couldn’t tell Arya all of that.

In a hesitant manner he hoped his baby sister did not pick up on, Jon kept it simple. “If everything is alright in the morning, then tomorrow probably.” He could see from the side of his vision, Arya looking at him confused, asking what he means by that exactly, but Jon only muttered an honesty which he did not know how to elaborate on. “I’m not sure.”

Regardless, he parted ways and swiftly made a path towards his chambers. Hoping that he could easily persuade Maege and Selyse to leave politely. The evening was long without you, and Jon wanted to see little Eddard off to bed before finally being able to just spend time with you the way he needed.

Telling the guards that unless it was a dire issue, not to disturb he and you until morning as he stepped into his chambers. The sight though, was not the one he thought he’d be faced with.

“How long has he been down for?”

Head rising up from where you had gently been watching the baby as he finally slept soundly, you felt your nerves pick up. It thus far had been the longest amount of time you and Jon had gone not having one another in any capacity since Dragonstone, and it almost could be mistaken that you were brand new at this all over again. Murmuring quietly as you kept your eyes glancing down to your slumbering son one more time, “Not long, but he should be asleep for some good hours.”

Hearing him walk into the room, you willed yourself to turn around. The long, silk like robe draping along the floor gave not much away that you had a short, dark shift on underneath and nothing more. It would not be much, but it was the best you could do. Long before Jon was to come back did you spend attempting to put yourself together. Look the opposite of the more chaotic state you had been in prior, so he could enjoy the sight this time.

Or more truthfully, bracing yourself for what pain might you need to hide when you finally gave Jon what he actually wanted. You weren’t healed enough to be ready without physical pain, but you wanted to convince him you still were of worth, so you’d let him take you, and hide the pain for his sake.

Jons warmth engulfed your back as he wrapped an arm around your front to gently tug you close, head dropping to look over your shoulder as he rasped in your ear. “What’s this?” His free hand gently tugging at the robe while his deep, low tones sent familiar shivers down your spine. Muttering just as quiet but in a much more jesting tone you flatly told him it was a robe. The chuckle along with his breath dancing hot across your skin made those shivering feelings for once, almost feel as if they were overtaking the nerves. “I meant I’ve never seen this before, it’s fancier then what I’m used to.”

Your eyes flickering to the side as the question slipped out a bit breathless in nature. “Is that a bad thing?”

Instead, Jon chuckled again. Smoothing that free hand up and down your waist leaning down to seek past your hair and press a kiss to your neck. “Not at all. You look beautiful.” At least it worked, you thought. Only Jon couldn’t help himself, pressing another light kiss then another all to the sensitive spots along your neck. “But it’s like you said, darling. There’s nothing you could do to make me not think that every time I see you.”

The huff almost like a laugh which left you elicited a smirk from him as you somewhat leaned your head back to rest against his. “You already have me, you know. You don’t need to try and flatter me into things.” Jon pulled back a little, likely to get a better look at you as your hands gently rested along his forearm at your front. Asking a bit confused of flattering you into what, you bit your tongue for a brief second before guiding him into a safe version of your answer. “Whatever you want.”

For a moment, his tone husked rougher and deeper just the slightest. “And what do you think I want?”

You knew you could’ve answered, but Jon also didn’t like outright forward and pushy, at least not on you. Choosing instead to turn suddenly in his grasp, you barley gave him the chance to look you over as you kept close to his front. Hands reaching up to begin undoing everything, as he accepted your silence for now. You always were quiet with him doing this, starting with the belt keeping Longclaw strapped to his side, and walking away enough to place it carefully along his desk.

Moving slowly onto everything else, you realized in a moment of clarity in your mind how much you missed doing this. It had been months since you both could stand in his chambers and take your time undoing the heavy layers on him from the day. One step then the next, everything coming off always dutifully put to the side for him until only his much more soft final layers remained. The trace sensation of a hand possibly running through strands of your hair was mostly lost as you continued with his boots until only articles of clothing remained on him as yourself.

The moment you moved to stand upright, Jon gently leaned down to guide you up to your feet. A hand on your waist and the other reaching up to let his thumb rub back and forth along your neck and jaw, his forehead pressing gentle against yours as you let yours rest on the final layer on his torso. Reaching up behind him did you without needing to even look, free his dark curls. His breathing growing a tad harsher as you ran your fingers through to tame them from the days tension before returning to his chest. Almost so slowly part of you wondered had he even noticed, did your hands drop to the laces down the middle of his shirt.

Only the tightening of his hand on your waist indicated he knew what you were doing at first. Half way down did you feel him inhale deeply before moving. Not enough to interrupt your work, but his head leaned down again into your neck, leaving much more noticeable kisses against the sensitive skin. Brushing your hair out of his way before both hands slid down to hold at your hips.

It was a feeling rushing alive through your veins as if for that moment did the fog fade further and further away from your mind. Eyes fluttering but refusing to stop before you undid the laces. Palms sliding across his chest, the scars littered about you had memorized long since exactly where they were and what they looked like in detail. Tracing a small few you could reach before gently beginning to push off the material, prompting Jon to free his hands so you could get the rest of it off.

Instead though, of allowing you to turn to put it down, Jon tugged you back to his front. Keeping his lips pressing lingering kisses to your neck, only using one hand to grab the shirt from you and toss it wherever it could have landed. Rising his head up, Jon barley met your eyes for even half of a second before slinking a hand up again to grasp one side of your jaw to tilt you up. Only a glimpse of his dark eyes before yours flew closed as he captured your lips.

Slow moving his kiss was, but long lasting and deep to the point he tilted you up more to his angle, stepping closer to match it so he held much more of the power in urgency. Soft and guiding, your hands smoothing along his torso much more freely, up to his shoulders before moving back down. It felt familiar, the scars, they felt like something you could always focus on.

Refusing to let you leave his lips, Jon licked your bottom lip and wasted not a second in gliding his tongue to brush yours as soon as you parted your lips for him. The hand on your hip wrapped around to your back, pulling you closer into his front as Jon kept you where he needed to kiss you. Tasting inside of your mouth as it slow but still somehow something which made the air feel raw between you both.

Jon would pull back, but never enough to disconnect the kiss before chasing the taste of you once more and guiding you to follow him and explore him back. Thumb running what it could reach along your cheek, your hands finally dropped lower and lower. Even slower then before. You hoped Jon was distracted enough that he hadn’t noticed. Loosening the laces of his breeches, you had leaned up more to wrap a hand around the back of his neck, Jon eagerly meeting your lips with something even more needing and rough.

It was as at the same time, you pushed passed the increasing beating of your heart to slide your other down under the fabric did you feel Jons brows furrow before pulling away from your lips. First snatching your wrist tightly, yanking you just enough that your fingertips danced across his lower hips. Brows narrow with something more you could describe as angry or disapproving did he tilt his head at you a bit. Your breathing begging to catch up with the air stolen from your lungs, eyes wide meeting his so dark and grey, you could’ve let him speak first. But you played your hand a bit too out of character, Jon knew you didn’t normally play dumb. “Is something wrong?”

Expression twisting into confusion now, you swallowed down a weight of nerves telling yourself not the time, not now you had to stay on track. Jon rasped out as the disapproval was strong within his tone as well as the lecturing to follow. “You know we can’t-” Your attempt of an innocent ask of you both can’t what, did his eyes narrow more. “I can’t take you to bed like this, you’re still recovering.”

Excuse you thought to yourself, you spent time coming up with an excuse, so say it. “Maester Wolkan said I’m mostly healed in that way, it just might some discomfort for me at first-” You cut yourself off that time. Jons head jolted back at bit, no doubt as his eyes trailed what he could of your figure from here, attempting to figure out what you were doing. Tune dropping to more of a whisper, nearly in a defence as the nerves returned now dripped into a lake of embarrassment. “Only at first..”

Jon was short and to the point as his disapproval did not make him grow angry but also did not allow you to move in any capacity. “Did he tell you you’re completely healed?” Shaking your head no, he pressed again. “Did he say it would be safe for you to let me take you like that?” Another shake of your head no, dropping from his gaze more that time. “Then we’re not doing this.”

In truth, Jon had swiftly let go of your hand to drop at your side and from your cheek with the intention to both grab your hips, but all you felt in that moment was a lurch in your heart. The sudden throwing you away from where he touched you felt as if he was trying to cast you back from his personal space, not at all understanding why when you took a bigger apprehensive step back did he look at you with such wide and bright eyes doused in more confusion.

This already went a lot worse then you had planned. “I didn’t mean to presume-” Cutting yourself off once more to exhale, eyes fluttering closed to regain your breath and heart for if only a second before attempting such words in a different fashion. “We don’t have to do that, I wasn’t attempting to pressure for it.” The longer he watched you in the quiet, the more the foot between you both grew within your mind as many feet into miles away. The lack of any words spurning on the nerves to fill the air with even more rambling excuses. “It’s been so long since we’ve been together, and -”

Not anger again, but he spoke each word slow and with careful purpose as if trying to convey a point to your irrational mind. “That’s because you gave birth to our son. You’ve only just stopped bleeding.”

Was it guilt? Shame? Embarrassment? Or all three blended into a poisonous well of violence telling you that if you did not have one use then to provide another. You knew it would hurt, that it was still too soon, but you were willing to not care in order to give him that. But Ramsay had taught you one lesson you still remembered, if not one way, you had use for men in another.

Eyes softening as you looked at him, returning back to his presence you sighed out. Fingertips running more innocently along his chest as the painting in your eyes matched. Voice gentle and sincere not wanting the night to end like this. “There are other things we can do, that I can do.” Looking at you in thought for only a second before Jons expression morphed into a doubt, your name muttered low as you continued to now rest your palms higher up along his shoulders, his hands instinctively returning to your waist. “We’ve never gone this long without...something...and you still have two ways you can take me.”

Hands again tightening on your waist, his now black eyes boring into yours as dark as his voice. “I never wanted to do that as an alternative-”

But his chest moved more as his breathing grew heavier, the more your fingertips danced upward to toy with his curls as you kept the opposite end in your person. “There’s still another thing I can do. It’s like you said, we can’t do the things you normally like,” Jon attempted to interject that he never said that but you continued on knowing he wasn’t sure if you interrupted him on purpose or not. “But there are some, and you deserve to feel good.”

That was unfair, trying to be soft with him. An innocence that he could not hide worked him up, the twitch of his cock between you such a symbol. “You deserve to feel good too.”

If Jon thought something about the way you dismissed it so easily, he kept it to himself for now. “What will make me feel good, is giving you something you deserve. For everything you’ve done.” An even rougher tone as your left hand drifted downward along his torso again, asking specifically what. “For being the one to bring our son into the world,”

“I think you had something to do with that more then me.”

Again you kept your lightness in voice knowing he might not be sure if you kept meaning to not acknowledge such small comments. “For keeping him safe, for coming to protect me, for getting us all home safely. Trust in me, Jon. There is plenty you deserve to be thanked for.”

Eyes fluttering shut, Jon blindly pulled you closer with a few fingers under your chin. Capturing your lips with his only for such a cruelly short time before nudging your nose with his, muttering low. “This is what you want, right?” You didn’t answer at first, thinking the obvious answer of silence was yes but you truly should’ve known Jon better then that. “Answer the question, darling. Is this what you really want?”

The nod you gave was certainly not enough. Jon pulling back enough to narrow his eyes at yours, your shoulders deflating a bit. “I want this, Jon. I promise.” The warmth of his body so comforting and yet overwhelming so close, you felt lulled into a calm where the truth was far easier to understand within your head.

Turning you so your back faced then bed, as you went to sit Jon tilted his head with a knowing look to listen to him properly. Letting him slide the silky robe to pool at your feet, drifting hands toying with the edge of the dark shift with a raised brow. The very moment you moved to slide the thin straps down your arms though, Jon took over such a task for himself. Letting it too fall before kicking it all off to the side, staring down now with eyes dark as a black night sky. The rasp so low it almost husked like a growl as his hands toyed down your arms to your hips. “Seven hells. How am I supposed to get anything done knowing you look like this?”

Another rough swallow unsure what to say, part of you, unsure if he meant it no matter how much the clearer part of your head shoved that darkness back down. “You’re King, you can make me do whatever you want.” Not said in any sultry nor seductive manner but it made Jons cock throb more that way. Finally meeting his eyes you sat down gently, one of his hands running along your hair, fingers raking through the strands before finding a for now, gentle hold at the back of your head.

Steady as you had been all day were your hands as Jon allowed you to finish what caused the debate in the first place. Slowly pulling his pants down and off his legs, you felt now two hands properly gathering your hair in an easy hold. Your hands sliding up to rest at his hips, eyes wide looking up to him without looking as if you wanted to stare at his thick length. Dark eyes with such a tenseness in the remainder of his face as he caught you off guard. His tone as desperate as his cock was but the words not what you thought. “You said whatever I want, does that mean I can command you to keep your hair this long?”

It did not occur to you, despite how much it stood out to Jon, you smiled brightly for the first time since he had gotten you back. “Only if you don’t also force me to wear it in those ridiculous southern styles.” Jon nearly grinned himself, assuring you that would never happen. “Then whatever you want, I promise.”

Only a fortnight and already you had forgotten. Lips parting with your wider eyes once more taking in his size, his thick cock hard and begging for you to take care of it. The nerves this time flowing faster and faster the more you considered the girth of his cock, heart asking to race along with the nerves inside you. Taking him into your hand, a shaking exhale left you not quite quiet enough for Jon to not catch it. Your hand couldn’t wrap around him properly, but that was fine, that wasn’t the act he wanted.

Only guiding enough for you to lean towards his cock, eyes fluttering shut as you pressed a gentle kiss to his length, and another, and another. Only small and fleeting presses of your lips but you trailed them up his length and down then back again until the faint trace of saliva had begun to coat him, making your touch against him a little smoother, but just as light. The second your kiss had left it’s mark against his tip did Jon give out a hiss the same instance his hand in your hair already tightened.

Slowly, you refused the idea of skipping right to things. Another kiss with a small brush of your tongue and again, his hand tightened in your hair, muscles under the hand still at his side tensing. The small coating of seed already finding it’s way onto your tongue as you licked at his tip in small motions with your lips always to follow.

Your hand finally leaving him to grab at his side once more, Jon tensed heavily at that sensation alone, yet nothing compared to his strength grasping tightly as you took him into your mouth. Barley moving passed still his tip, such a sensitive spot should your eyes have opened, would’ve seen it was making his free hand clench and unclench over and over trying to give you the room to go at your own pace.

The stretch you had forgotten, the feeling of your jaw taking something of such size had trickled in a phantom ache. Tongue slowly moving along what you could reach but hardly moved yet, allowing the saliva to build before easing more of him into your mouth, only another inch and you could hear his rough exhale.

Inch by inch did you let his cock further into your mouth, only reaching halfway when you felt that feeling arise. Heart beating faster but you would refuse it access, you promised it was about him. Easing your way back only to once more take half of his cock, and a pace most men would call insufferable was what he still allowed you to go at. Mouth taking him half down your throat, a hum adding to the feeling as you moved up and down his cock with something still at ease.

But you were not yet done, you still had much to go, much to take, and he deserved a wife who could take all of him no matter what. Another inch further, the lurch in your heart returned but it did not overpower the feeling of such a thick length already so deep. Only the tip left before taking him all the way down just before last few inches remaining as you sucked his cock. Small growling sounds deep within Jons chest were let out but never did he say much.

Not with this he ever did, but the hand in your hair was tight. Very tight. And you knew he needed more, you took it slow. The pace meant to ease you into taking his size but also to flow the racing of your heart, the panic building of something being so deep despite how little you wanted to disappoint him now. Still, you knew you could take him, but you were gentle and too much fighting such an internal feeling to do it yourself. You thought little of the manner which the thought arose in phrasing or what it could mean behind the fog as it grew more again.

You needed Jon to just force you to do what he wanted.

Blindly did you grab at his free hand. Uncurling his tensed fingertips into an ease as you pulled him back behind you, allowing him to curl it around the back of your neck under where his hold on your hair was. Jon gritted out your name in warning, but you squeezed his hand and Jon could read you better then you could’ve hoped as you let yours return to his hips. His voice but a rough husk full of such a strong desire, such a thick northern accent already now as thick as his cock. “Darling, please. I don’t want to force you-”

But you nearly whined around his length, and the following swearing curses from his mouth had spoken to how desperate you were for it. Once more, it hadn’t yet dawned on you what specifically Jon could truly pick up on, but your mouth so warm and wet around him he was weak to your gentle asks. It wouldn’t be until much later would Jon realize what it was he picked up on exactly.

“If I get too rough,” Another whine vibrated around his cock and pulled a grunt from him at the sensation. Don’t finish that sentence you could beg him, be rough. Be too rough. Ignore the blood flowing fast in your veins warning of a panic following and be rough with you, you wanted.

Grasping your hair in a firm hold, Jon pulled you almost all the way off his length before sinking you right back down, only this time he pushed you passed where you stopped. The second you could feel the coarse hair around the base of is cock though, did Jon pull you off almost all the way again. Over and over he dragged you down his cock but each time he fed more of his cock to you did he go faster. Not a shred of air to be had in mercy as he bobbed your head up and down his length with such an ease behind his grip in your hair did the hand behind your neck slide somewhat. Resting more along the side closer to the front of your throat his hand moved, and tight in grip still.

That time, your head stayed in place, it was Jon who thrusted his cock as deep into your mouth as he could go, which was every thick, agonizingly long inch. Fingernails tensing into where they dropped by his thighs as if to hold on for him, and a muffled sound of need barley making its way to Jons ears. He pulled you on and off his cock quickly, but now that he moved inside of you as if a toy for his making, he was less kind.

The hand in your hair cupped the back of your head, forcing you forward to meet his cock as it slid down your throat. Soaking him as he stretched your mouth but the growling sounds of need now erupting from Jon told you he needed this. He needed to treat you roughly. Cries leaving you as did the tears fall behind your eyes still closed, the feeling washing over you of a mixture.

A warmth which you felt low in your blood but refusing to travel to where you once wanted it. But the other part didn’t want it to. Jon was rough, rougher then you think he noticed as he all but was using your mouth as a toy for his pleasure. As if you only existed here and now to feed his cock into when he needed. Moans or cries, need or panic it felt hard to differentiate if you didn’t want to stop or if you liked it. Either way, the darkness took over instead to whisper that he’d hate you if you made him stop now.

“Fuck, how were you born so perfect to take me?” He thrusted down your throat as he also begun to move you to follow his path, offering him pure obedience every single inch he shoved into your mouth. “You were born for this, for me- born to take all of me..” If that was a nod, you gave whatever little of it you had.

Feeling his cock throb hot inside your mouth, you refused to let it happen now. He needed your mouth this deep, this rough, this mean and you did what you could. Sucking his thick length in the small moments of control you could offer to his cock even more. Your jaw hurt, your lungs burned as did a racing in your heart and blood speak another story that you told to be quiet despite something in your heart telling you to stop, and stop now.

Rambling lost as Jons head fall backwards as he just pulled you down, your nose pressing against the coarse hair and Jon would barley pull out of you before shoving you back down over and over. “Can you take all of me?” You could barley understand him, his voice a slurring husk with his accent so thick you couldn’t really comprehend his words over the sound of blood racing in your own head.

Forcing you back down, Jon this time held you there so deep in your throat he nearly let the hand on your neck tighten. “Yes or no, will you let me spill down your throat?” No, don’t ask. Don’t give you the option, you wanted him to force you to take whatever he fed you.

Only an indiscernible nod he caught before his head dropped. Eyes dark and wide as his lips parted watching you barley able to move as he thrusted so shallow deep in your warm mouth. He spoke, he said words, but none which registered.

Jons cock throbbed until he moved your head roughly all the way down, holding you there at the back of your head as a mighty growl of your name left him like a true animal. The hand at the side of your neck however, moved to your throat in anticipation.

His seed spilled deep down your throat, even against his warm figure it was hot, and thick. So thick you struggled to swallow it, muffled gags high pitched and desperate as he refused air. Only when you drank all of his seed could you breathe. The hand around your neck tightened at your throat, each swallow he could feel under his hand, Jon seemed as if it made him give you more. Feed you more of such thick seed as if in this cold outside the only sustenance you needed to stay warm and fed was his seed.

Jon came more then usual, thick spurts of his seed painted your mouth and the back of your throat all pooling in your stomach for him. Letting you ease up but not yet moving you. Your own instincts took over, gently bobbing your head up and down his cock, licking and sucking every which way you could to ensure every drop of his seed was brought out in his pleasure. Hissing against you finally, did Jon have nothing left and dragged you off of him.

His breathing heavy, but nothing of yours. Hands tense at is sides, your head dropped gasping for air you felt deprived of for so long and faint traces of his spend mixed with your saliva. Hand cupping the back of your neck now, massaging the area more soothingly as his voice still as deep rasped gentle down to you. “Look up at me, come on darling.” Guiding your eyes to meet his, yours were hard to read beyond something overwhelmed and exhausted. Jon shook his head to a thought of disbelief in his own head. “Gods, you’re so beautiful.”

A flush travelled through your body at that one, but Jon just knelt down to your level. Cupping your cheeks, he pressed his lips to yours with such a tenderness that you almost thought he wasn’t even breathing. But slowly guiding your lips, sliding his tongue into your still warm mouth the second you gave him a sliver of access did you whine into his mouth. The sound gifted as music to his ears as his much more deep gutted groan had him crowed you more as he kissed you rougher and deeper.

Only tearing away when it was him who needed air, Jon tilted your head down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I love you.”

You still let him move you at eye level, his nose brushing against yours almost playfully as you struggled to touch him so affectionately back. “And I love you.” Prompting you up onto the bed, Jon turned you into his chest. Cradling the back of your head as you reached meekly onto him but snuggled into his warmth as a cat does a blanket.

With his warmth around you, and the exhaustion of such a racing in your heart still not yet simmered, but despite it all, you found a calm and did you fall asleep in Jons arms without issue.

But that was just it, you fell asleep without issue. Jon remained awake realizing the issue. Red flags had been all over the encounter with you, but it was one thing which had Jons arms around you tighten and keep you so much more protective in his chest. He knew you liked when he took control, you had never all but begged Jon though, to just force you to take him. You wanted Jon to force you down his cock, force his cock down your throat roughly.

It took Jon a very long time to finally even allow his eyes to close, to attempt sleep. Realizing exactly what had happened, but also, the same realization that you had not a single clue what you did. He never told you, it wasn’t your fault. But it was there all the same. Chest tight and nerves flowing heavily through his mind which now could not stop filling his head with such gut wrenching thoughts, that comparison had startled him truly.

By the time he fell asleep he knew. Enough was enough. He had to handle this soon before it got any worse. He refused to let you force yourself down this path that he was sure, you weren’t even aware you were setting yourself on.

Something dark in your head was afraid Jon didn’t want you anymore, and were desperately about to start offering anything you could, your safety or well being be damned to try and hold onto his love a little longer. Jon despised that even in motherhood, the world refused to ever let you catch your breath.

Because, you had been clearly very confused, not understanding why Jon didn’t want to hurt you.

A good part of you felt bad, but it was something you wanted to do without him. It wasn’t the same for him and you didn’t truly have the words to explain it, nor did you know if you should. Already it was nearly a miracle that Jon did not awaken as you slunk from his grasp. Slowly and surely you managed, wrapping something warmer around your person as you dressed before peeking back to the dark sight of the room. First, the baby awoke to your gentle touch. You wanted to feed him before you did this, and a quiet as a baby boy could be, not a sound was made.

Finally, both Jon and the baby fast asleep, you crept the door open quietly to slip out. A gentle small smile to the guards who respected the quiet with only but small gestures back as you made your way down the corridor. You knew it must have been quite late into the night as hardly a soul was to come across your figure as you walked through the castle and out the doors. Not quite dressed for the snow outside, but you had a different destination then out here regardless.

Spotting the glass gardens in the distance you had the certainty that you were indeed alone. Not a soul would be out and on this side of the yard so late. Thus, you easily made your way passed and to the steps which led and down and down into the ground eventually revealing the crypts. So many generations of Starks, so many of which stood tall with direwolves by their side as it went on and on.

A family so long existing just as this in the world, it felt minuscule to imagine your families, the contrast of here to the tombs of House Baratheon on Storm’s End. Only three hundred years did they go beyond. Another existed there before you, but you knew not what happened of their remains. Only that when your House came into existence, so did the remains of the last get wiped away.

Step by step and you could hear the faint sounds of strings as you thought of it. The dark, horrible screaming nightmare within your mind hearing the music as you considered perhaps a House only disappears from the world should the ones which ruled after be cruel enough to wipe them away. There was not a scrap of memory for House Castamere aside from a morose song which sung of their doom and lingered in your mind of an attempt at the same.

Perhaps your family was not that different. Perhaps it was why walking through the crypts here did you feel as not belonging as you did in the tomb of Storm’s End. Not enough of either to be a person whole on your very own. Just scattered fragments of families making up a malformed figure in the shape of a woman. But you already knew that, that you were merely shards of a broken person.

After all, you had a father. Living and breathing to fight the same fight in the North, but you had not even attempted to write him or ask your mother if she had. You had a son, your father had a grandson this time who had lived long enough to be born into the world and you had not thought to inform him of it. Even now, you did not know what you would even say. But there was a father you walked towards, and it was him which you went to see.

There his statue stood, tall and stern as he ever was. The sword carved into his hands tall just as Ice was, as if to symbolize that in death if not life, Ned Stark stood guarding Rickon who was buried beside him. It felt so long ago that you stood in that very spot, knowing that you would have to step forward and begin the process of making a burial spot for him. As fresh as the wound was for Jon especially, you now could look back and almost be thankful that you and him both came to the same agreement to bury him that night. The last memory of his little brother would be one not of rot or decay. He in the cold air, had remained and as if the gods could only do one thing for him, not have his body lost or desecrated in the battle which erupted around him.

You hoped he knew. That Rickon knew that in his death, Jon had not hesitated to charge towards the man who did it. That he had not wavered in what he was going to do, and that as finally Jon descended on his home, had beaten Ramsay bloody for what he had done. That the time they saw one another was so short, but that everything of that battle was for him. That Jon took what forces he had to Winterfell as soon as Shaggydog’s head arrived at Deepwood Motte. That he did not hesitate to shut down suggestions of gathering stronger forces when his little brothers life hung in the balance.

Rickon was only a boy of six when you last saw him. His hair more red like that of his mothers, so small that you could so easily pick him up to move him as if he weighed nothing. His voice still high pitched with wide and bright eyes. He had not taken it well when you had returned to Winterfell only for you and Robb to leave soon after for war. He was angry and felt abandoned even though Robb and you both tried to assure him otherwise. Bran had said the free folk woman you met, Osha, she was trustworthy. That she cared deeply about them both, and when Bran knew he had to go beyond the Wall, he trusted no one more then her to keep Rickon safe. You knew it was not her blame how it ended.

Looking to where the lay, you recalled him then. By present day he would have been eleven. His hair darkened more in their curls just like Robb and he looked so much as he did at that age too. But you felt the guilt. A dark looming feeling making your head feel as if it was suddenly filled to the brim with liquids turning to metal to weigh you down. Rickon still would’ve been too young to understand it was you fault, but as your eyes returned to the statue of Ned Stark, you knew he would understand that.

The wind against your skin as Robb spoke beside you, you could hear him speak so clearly. Standing at the border of the bridge at the Twins, knowing that you all had not the time to fight your way through, watching two riders approaching, as the time ticked away.

“Father rots in a dungeon. How long before they take his head? Father would do whatever it took to secure our crossing. Whatever it took.”

But you didn’t do that. Did you? You fought beside the men fighting for the same cause, but you did not do whatever it took to secure Rickons safety. Jon had known you would’ve left. Would’ve given yourself back to Ramsay in order to barter for Rickons safe return. Jon could still fight for his home, but you wouldn’t have an eleven year old boys blood on your hands. Ned Stark did whatever it took to protect his daughters. He had confessed to a crime he did not commit, hoping that his admission would at least give Sansa and Arya some safety with his compliance. He risked and lost his life to protect them.

Who have you protected? Ned Stark was dead. Robb was dead. Robbs unborn son was dead. Catelyn is trapped in the body of a vengeful creature pretending to be the woman who you once saw as a mother. Rickon was dead. Shireen was dead by your own hands. Renly was dead. Barra was dead as was every nameless bastard cousin you never had the chance to know.

Bringing him back didn’t change that Jon was murdered trying to protect you. Arya survived on her quick intelligence. Bran survived despite every single odd being stacked against a crippled boy his age. Sansa survived no doubt using her perception of naive kindness as a shield to protect her. You protected none of them. You protected no one ever.

Looking up to the man you had missed more then when you thought your real father was gone, you could not help but think that you didn’t belong down here. You weren’t a Stark in any way that mattered the way they all were. You stood before him, symbolizing so little. You did not matter in this place or to it’s people. You were what you were always told you’d be.

A wife to breed her husband sons and daughters. You would fulfill that duty until Jon no longer had use for you, and you would never resent him nor your children for it. Cersei had told you that no matter what, no matter how bad it got, she had her children. That they kept her alive. You loved little Eddard dearly, and you knew your purpose here was Jon. You loved them both, but you thought perhaps you should stop pretending as if you were the exception to the life Cersei warned you about.

You hoped tonight you had proven at least some pleasurable value to Jon. It was hard to say what you felt. Part of you liked it, you always did with him. But the other part of you? The panic overwhelming of what if none of it would be enough to make him still want you, and you had to play into the lie of how much your mind and heart hadn’t filled with panic and anxiety. He needed it clearly, and so you wouldn’t dare deprive him of it. But your mind the whole time screamed at you that Ramsay had been right. This was all you were good for.

Even with your son here, Jon was your life, your purpose, he was truly everything to you. But you weren’t to him, and you’d do whatever it took to at least keep this false image of love he holds for you as long as you could. Your mind had made your time together that night complicated in your heart every single time you worried about what you will do when he doesn’t even want this from you anymore.

The fog in your head promised it would happen, and you listened to it. And in the subsequent fear in your mind, forced yourself to just endure what you knew you normally, would’ve felt good doing. If not for the heart twisting fear that he already was casting you aside for a woman who he could enjoy himself with properly. At least if you let him do whatever he wants, he had reason to keep you in his bed. The fog in your head promised you after all. Promised that if you didn’t just give him what he wanted, he’d set you aside and it was difficult in that fog to tell yourself otherwise. It wasn’t Jons fault he didn’t want you. It was yours.

“Scary how well I know you.”

Nearly jumping out of your skin, you turned to the side with wide eyes and a gasp of shock at the sudden intrusion of self hatred. Hands holding out as if to tame a spooked horse, did they apologize for scaring you. Catching your breath as your heart raced, you shook your head dismissively. “No apology needed. I simply didn’t notice I wasn’t alone anymore is all.”

A nod of understanding was given, and then you both stood there. More guilt ate at you, but you also knew, guilt sat right in the bright eyes Theon had. Taking a few steps closer he didn’t close the gap much, but enough he could lower his voice to a more appropriate level. “Fine, but I will apologize for the way I spoke to you. Our last conversation before you left.”

Closing your eyes with a sigh, you let your hand drift up to pinch at the high bridge of your nose. “Theon-”

But he took another step, that time with not the hesitant waver behind his tone. “No, I need too. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. Not as my Queen, and certainly not as my friend.”

Your arms dropping back down to your sides, you looked from his gaze for a moment. Recognizing at the corner of your eye, him more closing the gap. Following his lead you sensed, you both stood side by side before the statue of Ned Stark. Not the only one you were, who felt as if he did not belong down here. Theon spoke once more before you could gather your thought. “I know you don’t like being told this, but it isn’t your fault how we left things. I didn’t know how to handle you leaving, and I took it out on you instead of just saying that. No matter how close to everyone else we are, they will never get it. What being Ramsay’s prisoners was like. How he could make us forget we were even human. Only you understand that, and I was mad you were leaving.”

The silence was heavy, as was your gaze with stinging eyes looking towards the statue before you as your voice found itself. Quiet for only him to hear even in the empty halls all around. “We didn’t know if we were ever coming back.” You could see from the side of your vision, Theon nodding a little in an understanding. “It was more important to give everyone the hope that they knew we were coming back, instead of the worrying question of if. I thought I was sparing you the pain of thinking that was the last time you were ever going to see me.”

Theon for the weight bearing down on both of you, actually let out a chuckle. “You didn’t come back to life too bright, did you?” As if no pain was in your heart, your head whipped to the side with a scowl and glare he knew all too well. “You two were gone for months, you didn’t think eventually I was going to start worrying about that very thing all on my own?”

The nearly jesting glare subsided slowly, as you once again looked forward. Your tone easing a little from the far more withheld place it took previous. “Having some hope for a little while felt better then giving you none from the very beginning.” Theon however, only pressed. Asking why you didn’t just fight him on the way he dismissed you before leaving for what you feared could be forever. But there wasn’t a grand array of complicated emotions attached, you knew the truth was for once, very simple. “I didn’t want to potentially leave forever on an argument. Robert and Renly both died with our last real talk being an argument, and never being able to take that back feels horrible. I thought at least even if you were mad, I could avoid souring your last memory of me.”

Theon smirked though you did not see it. “Do you remember the day you threw a rock at my head?” Brows furrowing, you almost said no until the memory slipped in behind your eyes. Though he didn’t see it, you too begun a small smirk as you nodded once. “If someone told me then, that we’d be standing here fifteen years later saying this sort of thing to each other I might have thrown a rock the size of your head at you to avoid it.”

Hardly what any could call a laugh, but between you what was left out was all you both had in the moment. Silence came over you for a bit until it felt safe enough to broach. “Do you ever worry he’s disappointed?” Neither of you had to ask whom you were referring to. “That he looks at what you’ve become and wonders where did he go so wrong that’s led to you being on this path?”

Of all people, there was not a single point of contention between either of you that Theon felt exactly that. No matter the work you did to help him come away from it, there was no doubt he would look back and feel the same guilt that he had for months once you both were gone from it all. Not answering directly, Theon somewhat shifted the discussion to elaborate in a much more personal way. “Do you know what the first thing was my father said to me when I got to Pyke?” Shaking your head no, Theon could still hear it clearly as you did the strings earlier no doubt. “Said that Ned Stark had me just as long as he did. Took me away as a frightened boy, and what came back. So I said what I thought was true. A man, his blood and his heir. And without even looking at me he said, we shall see. Already he doubted me being there. Saw right through me the whole time and still I wanted to impress him. I didn’t have to fake who I was here. Told you and Robb to convince you both to let me go, that Ned Stark raised me to be an hourable man and I did everything he tried to raise me to not become. Of course I worry he’s looking at me wondering how I ended up this way.”

Theon never belonged back with them, you knew. He left with good intentions and Balon Greyjoy twisted him into thinking he wasn’t a man for it. But when asking what would he be disappointed in you for, your throat became dry like sands in the deserts of Dorne. All of it you thought, he should be disappointed in all of it. You knew you had many times been a disappointment to your true father, and even in his death you knew you too were a disappointment to the father who actually showed you love.

Your lack of an answer wasn’t pressed. The one which you spoke was a work around that real one you dared not speak out loud. “At least we are disappointments together.”

It was some time before either of you spoke. A long time before either of you found the courage too, but once again through the fog it was not you who was collected enough to find the words. “My sister tried to rescue me once. From Ramsay while we were still at the Dreadfort. She took a group of men to get me out of there and bring me home.”

You already knew this story, but broaching that subject was one Jon had said he wanted to tackle himself, since he did the most damage. In his words. Prompting Theon with reasonable responses, “Why didn’t she?”

Already you knew the guilt and shame she felt, but too did you know Theon had no reasonable way to know any of that. And the bitterness was evident. “I was too scared. Didn’t know if it was a trap. So she left. Came all that way and left.” Just as you wished to say anything of comfort, did Theon come to his true point. “But despite that, despite everything else that came after. I’m glad I didn’t go with her.” Why was all you could ask as he left your heart a bit strained. “Would’ve meant leaving you behind. No matter what Ramsay put us through, I’m glad the only time I escaped was when I was able to bring you with me. The night we left, I was worried come morning you would’ve just killed yourself to avoid marrying Ramsay and I had to do it or I’d lose you for good, and you were all I had left. We were all each other had left.”

Voice but a whisper, you barley would register to any ears were they not as close as Theon. “Would have spared you far more pain then you deserved though.”

Theon was as strained in voice as you, but the weight was more sure of himself through it. “My actual sister abandoned me. But you’re the sister I chose, and I wasn’t going to do to you what she did to me. And if Ned Stark is disappointed in me for that, I’m going to just have to live with it.”

The fog in your head was so heavy and so hateful, you almost felt like you truly were trapped with Ramsay still. The only moment you were a person being what little brevity you and Theon could fine, before you ascended those steps and returned to a fog which you were lost in all alone. For even just moments down here, it was a reminder of what being you felt like.

Still so late into the night, by the time you returned to the cold air of the courtyard Theon had since left to try and sleep. Asking if you were fine getting back on your own, but your answer of yes did not include that it was a lie. You weren’t sure you could handle returning to a bed you didn’t know if Jon truly wanted you in. It would be a few hours still anyways before the baby would wake in need of you again.

Standing in the cold as snow lightly fell all around you in the empty courtyard, your breath was the only sound heard as it exhaled cold in the air, beyond the night around in nature. It was beautiful beyond belief, Winterfell in such a wintery sight, and you felt unworthy of it as you stood there.

What you would do until morning dawned in the peak of the sky, you had not known. Until one single step was taken, when a voice spoke out behind you. Your name being called softly and hesitantly from a voice you had not heard in five years. Turning to see from where she had been hiding by the glass gardens in the dead of night, you almost didn’t recognize her as a woman, from the girl you left her as.

In kind without doubt, in your more whispered surprise, returned the gesture right back and spoke hers with something just as soft.

“Sansa.”

[brookghaib-blog]

Whispers of the past pt.8

Pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x reader

Summary: 10 years ago, Y/N went missing after being attacked by a kaiju, now working by Gen Narumi's side as his secret weapon, she hides herself in hopes that one day she reconnects with her first love, Hoshina Soshiro.

pt.7 - pt.9

Y/N's pov:

The dim light of my apartment cast long shadows across the room, a soft reminder of the life I’d built in the time since I had left Soshiro. We sat on my worn, comfortable couch, an untouched bottle of whiskey and two glasses between us. The air was thick with unspoken words and heavy with the weight of our reunion.

I stared into my glass, the amber liquid swirling around as I tried to steady my racing heart. Soshiro was here, with me, after all this time. The shock of our meeting at the bar lingered, and I felt both relieved and terrified by his presence. I could feel his eyes on me, filled with questions and emotions I wasn't ready to face.

"It's hard to believe we're here," he finally said, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, tinged with the same disbelief I felt.

I nodded, my fingers tracing the rim of my glass. "I know. It feels like a dream."

The silence stretched between us again, thick and uncomfortable. I could sense Soshiro's struggle, his need to understand why I had disappeared and what had happened since. I braced myself, knowing that the truth would shatter the fragile peace we had found.

"Y/N, I need to understand something," he said, leaning forward, his eyes searching mine. "Why did you join the Defense Force out of nowhere? And what happened the day you disappeared?"

I felt a shiver run down my spine, my heart pounding in my chest. The questions I had dreaded were finally here, and I knew there was no turning back. I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts.

"I… it's complicated," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He reached out, placing his hand over mine. His touch was warm, grounding me in the moment. "Y/N, please. I need to know. I need to understand what happened to you."

I looked into his eyes, seeing the worry and concern etched into his features. I knew he deserved the truth, but the fear of his reaction gripped me tightly. I took another deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come.

"Soshiro, there's something you don't know about me. Something I’ve kept hidden for a long time," I began, my voice trembling.

His gaze never wavered, his hand squeezing mine gently. "Whatever it is, we'll face it together. Just tell me."

I nodded, tears welling up in my eyes as I prepared to reveal the secret I had carried for so long. "I joined the Defense Force because… because I turned into a kaiju," I said, my voice breaking. "I work under the name Chisuka now."

The words hung in the air, heavy and oppressive. I saw the shock in Soshiro's eyes, his mind struggling to process what I had just revealed. "You… you turned into a kaiju?" he repeated, disbelief coloring his voice.

I nodded, tears spilling over and running down my cheeks. "Yes. It happened the day I disappeared. I didn't want to leave you, Soshiro, but I was so scared. I didn't know how to face you, how to tell you what I had become. I don't even know how it happened, they are investigating me but there's still no conclusion...Soshiro I'm sorry...I'm so sorrry.."

His expression softened, a mixture of confusion and deep sympathy replacing the initial shock. "Why didn't you come to me? Why didn't you let me help you?"

"We have talked so much about joining the Defense Force, we hated them so much, the kaiju's...and I didn't even understood my body, what if I had killed you, at the time I didn't know the danger, so I ran...I tried to live as much as I could...I thought about you every single day, but ... " I said, my voice trembling. "I thought you’d be better off without me. And I couldn’t bear the thought of you seeing me like that, of seeing the monster I had become."

He shook his head, his eyes filling with unshed tears. "Y/N, you could never be a burden to me. I love you, no matter what. I wish you had trusted me with the truth."

The sincerity in his voice broke something inside me, and I sobbed openly, the weight of my secret finally lifting. "I'm so sorry, Soshiro. I was just so scared."

He moved closer, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into a tight embrace. "It's okay," he whispered, his voice soothing. "I'm here now. We’ll figure this out together."

I clung to him, my tears soaking his shirt as I buried my face in his chest. The warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart, all grounded me in the reality of his presence. For so long, I had carried the burden alone, but now, with Soshiro by my side, I felt a glimmer of hope.

"I’ve missed you so much," I whispered, my voice raw with emotion.

"I’ve missed you too, Y/N," he replied, his voice thick with tears. "More than you could ever know.".

The night deepened around us, the city outside falling into a hushed, tranquil silence. Inside my apartment, Soshiro and I sat close, talking softly. We spoke about everything and nothing, our conversation flowing naturally as we tried to make up for lost time. He held me close, his arms wrapped around me, and I leaned into him, finding solace in his embrace.

Our words were interspersed with moments of silence, where we simply held each other, basking in the warmth of our reunion. During one of these silences, Soshiro tilted my chin up, looking into my eyes with a depth of emotion that spoke volumes. Slowly, he leaned in, pressing his lips to mine in an emotional, lingering kiss. My response was immediate, my lips soft and yielding against his, as if we were pouring all our unspoken feelings into that one moment.

We pulled back, breathless and overwhelmed. The intensity of the kiss left us both trembling slightly, but it also solidified the connection we had rekindled.

“Please don't ever let me go again” I whispered, my voice filled with raw emotion.

“How could I” he replied, his own voice thick with feeling. “I never stopped thinking about you.”

For a moment, we simply gazed at each other, the weight of our shared past and uncertain future hanging in the air. Then, abruptly, Soshiro stood up, a sudden thought piercing through the haze of our reunion.

“I need to make a phone call,” he said, his voice urgent.

I looked at him, confused and a little hurt by the sudden interruption. “What? Who are you calling?”

“I’ll explain later,” he replied, his tone gentle but firm. “I just need to do this.”

Without waiting for my response, he stepped into the hallway, pulling out his phone. I watched him, my heart pounding with a mixture of curiosity and unease. His conversation was brief and hushed, his voice barely above a whisper. When he hung up, he took a deep breath before returning to the living room.

I was waiting for him, my expression a mix of curiosity and concern. “Soshiro, what was that about?”

He shook his head, offering me a reassuring smile. “Nothing to worry about. Just something I needed to take care of.”

I didn’t press further, though my mind buzzed with questions. Instead, I stepped closer, wrapping my arms around his waist. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, his hand gently stroking my hair. “Not this time.”

We stood there, holding each other, the world outside forgotten. Our kisses grew more fervent, more desperate, as if we were trying to make up for all the lost time in that one night. The intensity of our emotions swept us up, and before long, we found ourselves moving toward my bedroom, our need for each other eclipsing everything else.

In my room, we fell onto the bed, our lips never breaking contact. The passion between us was overwhelming, a fire that had been reignited after being smothered for so long. We explored each other’s bodies with a reverence and urgency that spoke of our deep, abiding love.

Every touch, every kiss was a promise—a vow to never let go again. The world outside ceased to exist, leaving just the two of us in our bubble of rekindled love and desperate need. Our clothes fell away, and we moved together in perfect harmony, our bodies speaking the words our hearts couldn’t fully articulate.

When it was over, we lay entwined, our breaths mingling, our hearts beating in sync. Soshiro held me close, his hand gently stroking my back as I nestled against his chest.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered into the quiet of the room. “I always have, and I always will.”

I looked up at him, my eyes shining with tears and love. “I love you too, Soshiro. More than words can say.”

As I nestled closer to him, I couldn’t hold back any longer. “Soshiro,” I began softly, my voice tinged with the weight of my insecurities, “I thought you were with Captain Ashiru. I saw you two together and thought I had lost you. It broke my heart.”

Soshiro tightened his hold on me, his breath warm against my ear. “Y/N, you’ve always been the one I loved,” he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “Mina and I are just comrades. My heart has always belonged to you.”

His words washed over me like a soothing balm, and I felt tears well up in my eyes. “I was so sad, Soshiro. I thought I had lost you forever.”

He kissed the top of my head, his lips lingering against my hair. “You haven’t lost me. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

We held each other close, our shared pain and longing blending into a profound sense of relief. As the night wore on, we talked about everything—our dreams, our fears, our past. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, and eventually, we fell asleep, entwined in each other’s arms.

--

Morning light filtered through the curtains, waking me gently. I reached out for Soshiro, but my hand met cold sheets. Panic gripped my heart as I sat up, my eyes scanning the room. He was gone.

Before I could fully process his absence, the door to my bedroom burst open. A team of Defense Force soldiers stormed in, their guns trained on me. My heart pounded in my chest as I threw the blanket over myself, trying to make sense of the chaos.

“Don’t move!” one of the soldiers barked, his voice cold and authoritative.

I could barely breathe, my mind racing with fear and confusion. “What’s going on?” I stammered, my voice shaking. “I haven’t done anything wrong!”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Captain Mina Ashiru and Soshiro enter the room. Mina’s expression was stern, her eyes filled with a mix of determination and pity. Soshiro’s face, however, was a mask of cold indifference.

“Soshiro, please, you have to believe me,” I pleaded, my voice breaking. “I’m not a threat. I’m working for Narumi. I haven’t done anything wrong!”

Mina’s gaze softened slightly, but she remained resolute. “Y/N, we have to follow protocol. You’re a kaiju, and we need to ensure the safety of the public.”

Tears streamed down my face as I turned to Soshiro, desperation clawing at my heart. “Soshiro, you know me. You know I wouldn’t hurt anyone. Please, don’t let them do this to me.”

Soshiro’s eyes were cold and unyielding, a harsh contrast to the warmth I had known. “You should have thought about that before becoming a kaiju,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’re a threat, and you need to be contained.”

His words cut through me like a knife, and I felt my world crumbling around me. “How can you say that? After everything we’ve been through, how can you just stand there and let this happen?”

He stepped closer, his expression hard. “You made your choice, Y/N. Now you have to face the consequences. It’s not my problem anymore.”

The betrayal was too much to bear. I sobbed uncontrollably, my body shaking with the force of my emotions. The soldiers moved in, securing my hands with cold, unyielding cuffs.

“Captain, please,” I cried, turning to her as a last hope. “You have to understand. I’m not a danger. I just want to live my life.”

Mina’s expression remained stoic, though a flicker of empathy crossed her eyes. “We’ll investigate, Y/N. If you’re innocent, we’ll find out. But for now, we have to follow procedure.”

As they led me away, my heart shattered into a million pieces. The man I loved, the man I had trusted with my life, had turned his back on me when I needed him most. The weight of his betrayal crushed me, and I felt a hollowness settle in my chest.

In the cold, sterile light of the Defense Force facility, I sat alone in a cell, my mind replaying the events of the morning over and over. The love we had shared, the promises we had made, all seemed like a cruel joke now.

As the hours passed, I clung to a single, fragile hope: that somehow, the truth would come to light, and I would be vindicated. But for now, I was alone, my heart broken and my spirit shattered, betrayed by the one person I had thought would always stand by my side.

--

Narumi's pov:

Weeks had passed since Y/N’s arrest, and the tension within the Defense Force was palpable. The morning sun cast long shadows as I made my way to the meeting room, flanked by my team. My mind was a storm of anger and confusion. Y/N had been one of my most reliable officers, and the accusations against her felt like a personal betrayal.

I pushed open the door to the meeting room, my eyes immediately locking onto Ashiru and Hoshina. They sat with their teams, their faces a mix of determination and fatigue. The air was thick with unresolved tension.

"What's the meaning of this?" I demanded, my voice echoing in the room. "Why is Y/N still detained? You know she's my officer and has been working under my supervision."

Mina met my gaze, her eyes hard. "Narumi, she’s a kaiju. We can't ignore the threat she poses."

"A threat?" I scoffed, my anger barely contained. "She’s done nothing but help us! She was fully integrated into our operations and followed every protocol. You’re accusing her without any concrete evidence."

Soshiro’s expression remained cold, and I turned my gaze to him, the anger in my chest flaring. "And you, Soshiro. You were the one who pushed for her arrest. You betrayed her trust."

Soshiro’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away. "She’s a kaiju, Narumi. She’s manipulating you and everyone else."

I slammed my fist on the table, causing papers to scatter. "Manipulating us? You’re the one manipulating this whole situation! She told you the truth because she trusted you, because she wanted to be with you. And how did you repay that trust? By throwing her into a cell!"

Soshiro’s eyes flashed with anger. "I did what I had to do to protect everyone. She’s dangerous."

"Protect everyone? Or protect yourself?" I shot back, my voice dripping with disdain. "She’s been nothing but loyal, and you threw her to the wolves the moment you knew, did you know I many times she ran away from you by the fear of you not accepting her? You tell her you love her, she feels save, tells you the truth,and guess what, she was right. This is exactly why she keept hidden, why the hell did you pursue her, she was already comming to terms with you away from her, you appear, make her all happy, all happy family shit, then you call your little girlfriend to arrest her. Arresting her, in her house, in her bed, where she feel asleep, with you."

Mina tried to interject, her voice calm but firm. "Narumi, we have to be cautious. We can't take any risks with a kaiju in our midst."

"Risks?" I laughed bitterly. "The only risk here is the one you’re creating by not trusting your own people. Y/N has done nothing but prove her loyalty. If you had taken the time to understand her situation, you’d see that."

Soshiro stood, his face a mask of barely controlled rage. "You don’t understand, Narumi. You weren’t there. You didn’t see what she’s capable of."

I took a step closer, my fists clenched at my sides. "And you didn’t see how she struggled to keep her humanity intact. You didn’t see the pain she went through because she loved you. She trusted you, Soshiro."

The room fell silent, the weight of my words hanging in the air. Soshiro’s expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of doubt crossing his eyes.

"I know she’s different," I continued, my voice softer but no less intense. "But she’s still Y/N. The woman who fought alongside us, who saved lives, who wanted to be with you despite everything. And you threw that all away."

Mina sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Narumi, we need to follow the protocol. We need to ensure that she’s not a threat. You can talk all you want, but she has no legal document of working for the Defense Force."

I turned to her, my anger giving way to desperation. "Then let me talk to her. Let me prove to you that she’s not what you think she is. Then you will ler her go, and she won't ever seeyour faces again, I'll make sure of thart. "

Mina exchanged a glance with Soshiro before nodding reluctantly. "Fine. But we’ll be monitoring everything. If there’s any sign of danger, we’ll act."

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. This was my chance to prove Y/N’s innocence, to show them the woman I knew, the woman I trusted.

As I left the room, Soshiro’s voice stopped me. "Captain Narumi" he said quietly, "be careful. She’s not the same person you remember."

I didn’t turn around. "No, Soshiro. She’s exactly the person I remember. It’s you who’s changed."

With those words, I left, determination burning in my veins. I would prove Y/N’s innocence, no matter what it took. I owed her that much, and more.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Your works are absolutely marvelous, It’s so nice to see so much Donna content.

Would you enjoy writing of how donna and her maid slowly fall for each other over time, maybe even one of them finally confessing? Any direction you want to take it I know it would be lovely.

Love your writings !! :)

Yess!!! Here it is!! Thank you for your words!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

I'm not going to break your heart

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Maid! Reader

Warnings: angst, mental health issues, Donna being Donna, fluff,

Word count: 5,408

Summary: You are Donna's maid. She's a complicated woman, but... Maybe with time you can be able to know her...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Oh, this is too long... Again, I'm sorry... Requests are open!!!! I love you all!!! :)))

The village was a horrible, dark place. Even though you were born there, you never felt comfortable. The poverty, the humble lifestyle that was lived there didn’t matter. No, that wasn't the problem. The problem had its own name: Mother Miranda.

The priestess ruled the place. You, the villagers, were a simple flock that followed her footsteps. You never agreed with it, but you knew your life depended on it, literally.

“Did you want to see me, Mother Miranda?” You asked respectfully, with your hands trembling from having that woman so close to you.

“Yes...” She sighed, barely looking at your face. “(Y/N), right?”

“Yes, Mother Miranda,” you answered with your head bowed, fixing your gaze as far away from hers as possible.

“How old are you?” Miranda asked. Of course, a person like her could ask those kinds of questions without fear of seeming impolite. She also wasn’t a woman who liked to waste time.

“25, Mother Miranda,”  you said with a voice broken by fear.

“Mm,” she murmured, barely paying attention to you. You certainly preferred it that way. “You're not married, are you?”

As strange as the question seemed to you, you knew that answering was the only way to get out of that church as soon as possible.

“No, Mother Miranda, I’m not married.”

The priestess raised her head. That golden mask hid almost her entire face, but her icy eyes were still able to pierce your insides.

“Why? Can't find the right man?”  She asked with a sigh, walking in circles around you, as if she were one of the hundreds of crows that flew over the village constantly.

“No, it's not that, Mother Miranda... I...” You stopped just before the words left your mouth. No, she didn't have to know the real reason for your lack of interest in men. It's true that the sexual preferences of the villagers were of no interest to her, but who knows.

“I don't mean to judge you. I'm just making sure you're available. I have to ask you for a favor.

You had to be the maid of one of the lords. That's what she wanted from you.

You had never considered serving any of them. You had heard horrible things about the castle maids. But it's not like you could refuse.

Fortunately, the castle was not your destination. Apparently Miranda wanted you to serve the youngest lord, the solitary and almost unknown doll maker, Donna Beneviento.

Although at first the woman in black refused, all you had to do was to say that it was Mother Miranda's thing and then she reluctantly accepted your services. You had heard horrible things about that woman: that she was crazy, that she could make you kill yourself, that she made you experience true fear... None of that happened, unless your greatest fear is the feeling of emptiness and loneliness.

“Good morning, my lady, have you rested well?” You asked politely like every morning and, like every morning, a slight nod from the lady in black was the only response.

Not even the mystery that black veil hid made the days go by faster. Clean, cook, do the laundry. Your tasks were boring and empty, at least if the Angie doll didn't feel like bothering you.

And again, silence. A dead silence that weighed on your shoulders. You weren't exactly a talkative girl, or one who enjoyed contact with other people, but you would have appreciated some communication from the lady in black.

“Be careful, my lady, it’s still very hot,” you said hastily, making a clumsy gesture to take the coffee cup from her hands.

She backed away like she always did when you got a little closer.

“Donna likes her coffee warm, idiot, not hot as hell,” Angie protested, with a cocky pose.

You rolled your eyes without her seeing you. She was a terribly impertinent doll.

“I'm so sorry, my lady,” you apologized, grabbing the cup carefully. “I'm going to fix it right away.”

“It doesn't matter,” a soft, hoarse voice came from the veil. It was the first time she spoke to you in her own voice.

In those first two months not a single word had come out of her mouth. You supposed that was a good thing, but you were still afraid. Your friends warned you several times to be very careful with that woman.

“I... Fine, my lady," you said, lowering your head and moving away from the lady, who seemed to be studying your gestures.

“You useless maid,” Angie whispered with a childish laugh.

“I’ve already said I'm sorry,” you said, unable to suppress a growl that passed through your throat.

“Enough, Angie. Leave her alone,”  Lady Beneviento spoke again to your surprise. The doll obeyed, huffing and muttering what you thought were insults directed at you, of course.

“You know what? I'm going to cool the cup, so it won't be so hot,” you said, determined to please that stupid porcelain doll. Donna didn't scare you that much, but Angie… Angie was really scary.

The nervousness of hearing her speak for the first time, and the fact that the coffee was too hot, caused the cup to fall to the floor with a clumsy movement, breaking into a thousand pieces.

“Oh, my God... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” you said, hurriedly bending down to pick up the pieces of porcelain.

The lady in black stood up, looking down at you, probably also scared by the sound of the cup breaking.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” you repeated nervously, avoiding looking at that black dress. “I'm so clumsy... Forgive me, I beg you.”

You expected  some angry shouts, even the teasing of the Angie doll. But none of that happened. Instead, you thought you heard a soft laugh coming from the black veil.

“You’re begging me?” She asked curiously. “It's just a cup.”

“Yeah, but, but I...” You stammered, not being able to stop shaking, something that apparently caught Lady Beneviento's attention.

“You're afraid of me,” she whispered, grabbing one of your wrists roughly.

“What? I don't...” You said, surprised by those words.

 “It wasn’t a question. You're afraid of me, you're shaking,” Donna said with a more serious tone while you stood up with the pieces in your hand. “Do you think I'm going to hurt you?”

You didn't really understand the reason for those strange questions. Unfortunately, you couldn't say she wasn't right. You knew who she was, the things she was capable of. In the two months you had been in that house, you had never made a mistake, until that day. You didn't know what the consequences were going to be.

“I... I'm going, I'm going to throw this away and get something to clean the floor...” you said, cowardly fleeing from that conversation, from the first real conversation with that woman.

“No, stay,” the lady ordered, with a demanding tone.

“My, my lady, I...” you murmured.

“What have you heard about me?” She asked, sitting down in the chair again without taking her eyes off yours.

“About you? I don't... I don't understand...”  You said, looking for a hole in the floor to disappear instantly.

“You are my maid, (Y/N). I want you to answer my questions,” the doll maker said, hardening her tone even more, squeezing her hand tightly, as if she were losing her patience.

“My lady, I...” you said in a low voice, unable to understand the situation you found yourself in.

“Answer, stupid, stupid,” Angie demanded, comically leaning over the table.

“Well I...” you said, avoiding looking at her, thinking that maybe running away was a good idea. “They say… They say that you are capable of making people feel real fear, that you can… That you can do horrible things to them.

Donna nodded slowly, listening carefully to her words.

“So do you think I’m going to do horrible things to you just for breaking a coffee cup?” She asked again, seemingly calm, although her clenching hand said otherwise.

“I don't know," you admitted crestfallen, noticing how your nervousness made you stab one of the pieces of porcelain in your hand.

“You don't know,” Donna sighed, with a slightly ironic tone.

You just shook your head.

She was quiet for a moment, looking at you, barely moving. The strength of her hand decreased until her knuckles returned to their original color.

“Pick up this mess and get back to your tasks. I'm not hungry,” she ordered you angrily, getting up from the chair and disappearing from the living room like a ghost.

“I... I didn't mean to...” You stammered, asking yourself what was your mistake.

Her footsteps didn't stop despite your attempt to apologize, disappearing down the old elevator.

“Great...” you whispered, shaking your head.

The days went by. There were no more talking, no more broken cups. The fear you felt was gradually changing to curiosity. What the hell was that reproach about? Were you afraid of her? Of course you were. You knew who she was, the things she was capable of.

One morning, calm as the others, you were cleaning the dust from the stairs, wiping the cloth over the frame of that portrait; the portrait of a stoic woman, with a cold look but undeniable beauty. It was Donna, you knew it was her. You wondered what kind of problems she had, what tormented her so much. Why she didn’t want to show her face, one that you thought was beautiful.

“What is wrong with you?” You asked, looking at the cold eyes of the painting, shaking your head.

“(Y/N),” a hoarse voice interrupted you in your absurd dialogue. The lady in black was standing in the hall. You didn't know how long she had been there, watching you.

“Oh, Lady Beneviento,” you said embarrassed, with a polite smile.

“Who were you talking to?” She asked curiously, tilting her head slightly.

“Oh, I... With no one, with, with myself,” you responded. Actually, you weren't lying.

“Do you talk to yourself?” She wanted to know, getting a bit closer to the stairs.

“Yes, well, it helps me to pass the time,” you said, trying to make sure that the trembling of your hands wasn't so noticeable.

The lady in black nodded slowly, clasping her hands in front of her.

“Do you know how to sew?”

“Sew? Oh, sure,” you said, scratching the back of your neck nervously. “And I'm pretty good at it, to be honest.”

“Fine. Come with me,” the lady said, ignoring your joking attempt, turning around and walking away from you again.

You, of course, followed her silently to the old workshop where she spent most of the time.

Without saying a word, she placed a chair next to a sewing machine and motioned for you to go with her.

“What do you want me to do, my lady?” You asked curiously, while Donna searched through the fabrics.

“The machine has broken. Until my brother comes to fix it, I need you to help me make the dresses for these dolls,” Donna said with a dry tone, handing you the needle and thread and pointing to two porcelain figures.

 “Oh, okay,” you said, taking the objects, accidentally brushing her incredibly soft pale hand.

“Will you be able to do it?” She asked, handing you several fabrics.

“Sure, of course, my lady,” you responded, nodding.

“I hate that,” the lady in black said with a growl. You opened your eyes, surprised and confused, looking for a thousand ways to apologize, you still didn't know why.

“What?” You asked, sounding truly stupid.

“I have a name, you know?” She said with a reproachful tone.

“I don’t…” you stammered, looking around erratically.

“My name is Donna, not my lady,” she said nervously, tightly grabbing one of the gray fabrics. “I don't want you to call me that way again. Is that clear?”

You, almost out of breath from those words, nodded slowly, forcing your legs to stop shaking.

“As you wished my... Donna,” you whispered softly, trying to distract yourself from that conversation.

“Your Donna?” she asked with a different tone, an amused one? “I think you're confused, (Y/N). You’re my (Y/N).”

“Oh, of course, I... I didn’t mean to say that you… I...” You stammered, digging the needle into your finger due to your agitated hands.

“I was just joking,” she murmured, sighing and returning to the fabrics. “You are still afraid of me…”

“No, no. I…” You said hurriedly. You began to think that silence was your ally in that house, not your enemy. You wish you were dusting and talking only to yourself at that moment.

“Look at that doll over there,” Donna said, pointing to it. “I want a dress just like that one.”

“I... Okay,” you said, relieved to return to your increasingly appreciated silence.

Time passed slowly, with the only sound of an old clock breaking the calm of that sinister workshop. The two of you sewed in silence. You were surprised by the skill and delicacy with which she treated each of her works. A feared, dangerous woman did everything possible to ensure that the dolls she created were perfect.

From time to time, you looked at the side of her face; a pale face, partially covered by that horrible black veil. A normal ear, black hair apparently tied up... There was nothing that made you think that this woman was a monster, as the villagers liked to say. For some reason, you felt some discomfort being around her. Not because of her subtle lavender scent or because of the fear she might give you. You felt that somehow, you needed to set the record straight, that you had to let her know that you weren't as scared as she thought.

“Donna,” you said, in a tone so low. You doubted she had heard it.

The lady in black turned her head slowly, but without stopping sewing that small dress.

“I'm sorry,” you said, playing with the black thread in your hand.

“What are you sorry about?” She asked, looking back at the dress.

“I'm sorry I said... Well, I'm sorry you think that...” You stammered, feeling horribly ridiculous.

“I don't like when you stutter, (Y/N). Speak clearly, please,” she asked you kindly.

“I'm not afraid of you,” you said, closing your eyes and praying that Donna wouldn't look at you right at that moment.

“Sei una bugiarda,” she whispered, shaking her head.

You frowned, since you didn't understand her words.

“What? Sorry, I don't understand.”

“I said...” The doll maker said, with anger showing in her voice. “…You are a liar.”

“No, I'm not lying,” you said, stopping sewing and crossing your arms. “Maybe, maybe at first I was afraid. I'm not going to deny it but... This time I've been here... Well, the truth is that I can't complain. What I want to say is that... I’m, I’m comfortable with you,” you said, feeling a knot in your stomach, as if you weren't really just telling the truth, as if those words were hiding something else, something that you couldn't, or didn't want to see.

“Are you?” She asked, also leaving the small dress next to her.

You nodded.

“This is the first time someone has said something like that to me. Excuse me if it's hard for me to believe it,” Donna said crestfallen, playing with her hands in her lap. That was like she was feeling shame too. Curious

There were no more words. After that declaration of sincerity, you returned to your work, to your needle and thread. Donna didn't seem to think about it. You, on the other hand, began to notice a different nervousness when you were next to her.

 Time, days, weeks, months continued to pass. You couldn't say that you had a good relationship with Donna, but it improved a lot. Now, she allowed you to read next to her. Little by little you began to have more developed conversations. Always about banal and absurd topics, but conversations, conversations that didn’t include the words: I'm sorry.

That kind of a beginning of a friendship made your attitude change, looking for the lady in black yourself, wanting to spend more time with her. Maybe it was your imagination, but you had the feeling she was doing exactly the same.

Many times, when you were cleaning the dust in the living room, she would appear by surprise, approaching you, pretending to look for a book on one of the shelves. You knew she was pretending, since she always picked up the same essay about mountain plants.

What was happening? You were dying to find out.

“Happy birthday, (Y/N),” you sighed as you opened your eyes. It was your first birthday in that house. You weren't expecting calls from your friends or your family. Surely they thought you were dead a long time ago. It was not something strange in that village.

You went down the stairs yawning, passing by the portrait that, for a while, began to give you chills. It was no longer fear, or uncertainty, it was something else, something you were ashamed to say.

On top of the dining room table, there was something different. It seemed as if… As if someone had given you a gift. A beautiful rose decorated what looked like a carefully wrapped package. Next to it there was a card.

You picked it up suspiciously, wondering who had been thoughtful enough to send you something like that. There was no way you believed Donna had anything to do with it.

I hope you can enjoy your birthday the same way I enjoy your company.

Donna

“What? You're kidding me?” You whispered with wide eyes and trembling hands. Had it been her? It seemed incredible. Would it be a trap? There was only one way to find out.

You unwrapped the small package carefully. You didn't know what to expect and you didn't know why your heart was beating so fast.

“Oh, wow...” You whispered when you took a small bracelet with gold and silver tones out of the box. It seemed like something very expensive and unexpected. “My God… It’s amazing…”

“Do you like it?” a familiar soft and hoarse voice spoke behind you. There was Donna, with a formal but nervous posture, studying your gestures. Frightened, you put your hand on your chest.

“Donna, I... You didn't have to,” you said, smiling, running your fingers through the small golden flowers that adorned the bracelet.

“I wanted to do it,” she said, abruptly.

You nodded gratefully, awkwardly trying to place the gift on your wrist.

“Wait, let me help you.”

Donna approached slowly, taking the bracelet in her hand and wrapping it around your wrist. The touch of her skin against yours made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Maybe it was because she had never been so close to you, or maybe it was because you wanted her to be that close.

“I... Thank you very, very much,” you said, looking at your now decorated wrist.

Her hand stayed in yours, you assumed due to inertia. Her fingers played with yours naturally, but with the feeling that they had no intention of letting yours go.

“You deserve it. I... I, I like you're here with me,” she said shyly, pushing her hand away from you when she realized where it was.

“It's quite a compliment my... Donna,” you said nervously, not knowing whether to go back or advance a few inches, confused by the feeling of wanting to do it.

“Your Donna,” she repeated with an amused tone. You smiled back and for a moment, a kind of out-of-nowhere tension came between you.

“I... I better go to prepare breakfast,” you said, making the decision to move away. She sighed and shook her head.

“Let me do it myself. Today is your birthday. Also, it's a great day. Would you like to have breakfast outside? You know, together,” she asked, looking away from you.

“Of course, I would love to...” You sighed, staring into her black veil.

From that moment on, something you couldn't see had begun. You no longer ate separately, you had stopped distancing yourself. You began to eat together, to watch movies together, in short, to be together.

You already knew what things you could say without make her mad, the things you could talk about without fear of punishment. In an instant everything became different, almost as if it were a dream, or a creation of your mind to make your life a bit more pleasant.

Of all the people in the village, you never imagined you would have feelings for one of the lords. Yes, feelings. You could no longer deny your nervousness when being with her, your heartbeat every time she touched you. Maybe you were losing your mind, or maybe it was already lost.

One night, like every other night for a while, you looked at the bracelet on your wrist in the moonlight. Sleeping was a luxury that your thoughts no longer allowed you to do. You thought about her, about Donna. You wondered why people said those things about her, why they thought she was a monster when she never was such a thing for you. You were also looking for an excuse to stop feeling the things you felt, to refuse to admit that you were falling in love with her.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” A squeaky voice brought you out of your self-pity. The Angie doll suddenly came into your room, jumping onto the bed and shaking you.

“Angie, what's wrong? What do you want?” You asked, moving the wooden arms away from your body.

“It's Donna, Donna has problems,” the doll said, visibly nervous. You stood up immediately, frowning.

“What problems? What's wrong?”  You asked following the puppet out of the room.

“She has lost her mind again! Help her, help her, please!” Angie shouted, dragging to the old elevator.

“Okay, okay, calm down...” you said nervously, trying not to trip over anything in the dark.

You knew that Donna sometimes suffered from anxiety attacks, that her mental problems were always lurking. You had always left her alone. You were never allowed to help her.

“Donna?” You asked entering the bedroom, where the lady in black was, sitting in the corner, balancing with her knees on her chest. “Donna, what's wrong?”

“No! Stay away!” The lady in black screeched, putting a hand in front of her. “They, they will catch you!”

“They? What are you talking about?” You asked carefully, approaching slowly and crouching down next to her. “Hey, Donna, calm down.”

“Go away! I don't want them to hurt you!” She screamed again, hitting the wooden floor with her fists. That had to hurt.

You, ignoring her delirious screams, grabbed her wrists to prevent them from going down again.

“Come on, calm down, Donna...” You whispered, trying hard to keep her hands from moving. “Everything is fine, I'm here.”

“They, they whisper things to me... they want, they want to hurt us...” She murmured, with her gaze lost, shaking her head.

You were so nervous that you hadn't even noticed a small detail. The black veil that covered her face had disappeared. The mysterious Donna Beneviento revealed herself to you without wanting it.

It was a beauty incomparable to any other, a scared and hurt face, a scar that took up part of the right side of her face. That was the reason. That's why she wore the veil. Her black hair was tied up in a messy bun, harmoniously framing her features. You could have been staring at her face, at her newfound beauty. But it wasn't the time.

“They want to leave me alone!” The lady screamed, fighting against the force you exerted on her arms. “Get out!”

“Donna, come on, relax. There's no one here…” You said, pushing your way through her spasms, kneeling in front of her. “No one wants to hurt you.”

“No... You will abandon me... They have told me... You are a bitch!”

You shook your head, feeling deeply sad at being unable to bring poor Donna back to her senses.

“No, stop, honey... You're going to hurt yourself, come on, stop, Donna, come to your senses. I'm here with you, I will never abandon you. Do you hear me?”

When her attempt to hurt her hands stopped, you took the opportunity to bring yours to her face, cupping it firmly so she could look at you. Her eye was red from crying.

Her breathing relaxed a bit, letting her arms fall to the floor and looking at you in panic.

“That's it... Relax. Nobody is going to hurt you. I would never allow it... Come on, breathe, breathe with me...”

She followed your orders, despite still being nervous. Your hands caressed her face lovingly as you brought her forehead against yours.

“Okay, Donna... Breathe... You're safe...” You whispered affectionately as her hands returned to your wrists, gripping them tightly but with no intention of causing harm.

“(Y/N)...” The lady in black sighed, moving away from you and bringing one of her hands to her uncovered face. Unfortunately, she realized that you had seen her.

“Shhh, no, it's okay,” you said when she thrashed around in your arms again, trying to escape your grip.

“Let me go! Don't look at me!” Donna screamed, pushing you angrily, causing you to fall to the floor backwards.

“Hey, hey, come on. It's okay,” you said, standing up, grabbing her wrist when she was about to run away. “Donna, stop.”

“No, no... Why did you have to do it?!” She wailed with a heartbreaking cry, stamping her feet hard on the floor, making even Angie hide behind a piece of furniture.

“I just want to help you,” you said, with tears in your eyes. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. “Come on, come here…” you whispered, extending your hand towards her, who pushed it away with a resounding smack.

“I'm a monster,” the lady in black said sobbing, turning her back on you.

“No, no, Donna, you're not,” you said, approaching cautiously, putting a hand on her shoulder. You didn't know the limit of her patience, especially in that state. “You are a beautiful woman and… And a  kind one. I love spending the day with you, reading with you... You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met and I...”

“Do you think you can fool me?  Do you think you can make me believe that you appreciate me? That’s what you want? Do you want me to fall in love even more and then abandon me?”

“What? No...” You said with a sad look, without paying attention to her words. At least at first.

“You’re lying”

“I'm not lying,” you whispered as she turned towards you, head down, embarrassed by her appearance. “You are… You are special to me.”

“Do you know how many maids like you have told me those stupid words?” She asked, abruptly removing your hand from her shoulder.

“No, I don’t know.”

“They were all the same, liars who only wanted to rob me... Insult me, some of them even tried to kill me... You are all the same... You’re just bitches, all of you.”

“Donna, stop saying those things... Your words are hurting me,” you sobbed, shaking your head and trying unsuccessfully to caress her cheek.

“And to think that you were different from them hurts me too. I thought you felt something for me,” she accused with a sigh, with a dangerous look.

“Donna, I...” You said, incredulous at the pain in her words. “I feel something for you. I don't know what horrible things they've done to you but... But...”

“Shut up. Look at me! She screamed madly, grabbing your head tightly, making you look at her face, making you unable to look anywhere else. “No one could feel anything for me, I'm horrible and you know it. I really loved you, (Y/N). I really thought you were different.”

“Well, I'm different,” you protested, lowering her arms abruptly.

“Get out my sight. Take whatever you want from the house and disappear forever. I don't want to think you're telling the truth just for breaking my heart later. Leave before I feel the need to hurt you.”

“What? No, I don't want to leave,” you said with a grimace of displeasure. “I don't want to leave. I want to stay with you!” You screamed, desperate at your inability to reason with her.

“You’re lying!”

“I’m not lying! I love you!” You shouted, confessing a truth that was already beginning to be too heavy on your head.

“You can't love me!” Donna screamed back, pushing you angrily by your shoulders. “You can’t…”

Before she could react, you approached her, grabbing her chin, taking advantage of that small moment of delirium. Your hands traveled to her waist, gently pulling her towards your body. One of them went up to her cheek, caressing it slowly as your head leaned towards hers, closing the distance between you with a slow, but firm kiss.

She gasped in shock, but she made no effort to move away from you. Her entire body relaxed and her hands rested on your cheeks, keeping your lips glued to hers, not wanting to lose that contact, that sensation that your kisses caused.

“(Y/N)...” She whispered into your lips, separating slowly before launching herself into them again, deepening the kiss, in a messy but affectionate way.

“I love you, Donna...” You said sobbing, cupping her face in your hands, with your lips still very close to hers.

“You, you’ve kissed me,” the doll maker said, confused, but not wanting to move an inch. “No one had ever kissed me…”

“That's because they didn't feel what I feel for you...” You said tenderly, sincerely, grabbing the hand that rested on your cheek. “I don't care if you don't believe me, but every day I thank Mother Miranda for send me with you, Donna. I don't care if you don't believe me when I tell you that you are beautiful, that I hate the veil that covers your face. I don't mean to trick you, to hurt you, I just... I just want to be with you... My Donna...”

“Do you want to be with me?” She asked uncertainly, studying your features very closely, her voice trembling.

“I want”

“Aren't you going to abandon me?”

“Never”

An innocent smile spread across her face before kissing you again in an intense, erratic way, not wanting to let you even take a breath.

“I, I would really like to be with you, (Y/N)... I... No one has ever felt that way about me...”

You laughed softly, kissing her quickly again and hugging her tightly, making her feel safe in your arms.

“Let me love you, Donna...” You whispered into her shoulder, pressing her body tightly against yours. “Let me spend my life with you, enjoy how wonderful you are…”

She withdrew slowly, with a sigh that told you something was wrong. Her hands moved down your hips, meeting your own hands as her gaze focused on yours. Her expression had changed.

“I wish I could believe you, (Y/N), but I can’t, not yet,” Donna whispered, bringing a hand to your chest, regaining the distance she had lost. “I have always been so alone…”

“Not anymore, Donna, you're not alone anymore.  You don't have to trust me right now but... I will do whatever it takes to show you that my feelings are sincere,” you said, not letting desperation force you to kneel and beg for a chance.

Her gaze lowered back to your lips, wanting to kiss them again but, at the last moment, she regretted it.

“If you knew the things you make me feel, how fast my heart beats when you're around...” The lady whispered sadly, distrustfully.

“I believe I know. I feel the same way,” you said, letting your heart speak for you.

“Don't break my heart, please...” Donna whispered again, now gently kissing your lips.

“I would never do it,” you said between kisses, letting yourself be carried away by her sweet caresses, caresses that wandered over your body, exploring it cautiously.

“I want to keep kissing you,” Donna said, getting closer, begging not to lose that new sensation for her.

“As you wish, my Donna...”

[meanbossart]

Spicy Asks: The Sequel is here. I'm so, so sorry.

Oh he's a very passive guy, he likes being manhandled around and not having to do much of the work (a bit of a pillow princess one might say). As far as fetishes go, he does have fantasies about group sex and of being roughed up, but I think if put in a situation where he could practice it in a controlled environment he'd be like "EHHHH nevermind actually" and go home very quickly LOL

DU drow would have 100% banged Lae'zel if he hadn't killed her. He couldn't stand her personality but they would have gotten on like two peas in a pod in the sack.

He does find Shadowheart very pretty, but they struck up a friendship so quickly that I don't think he could see her in that way 🤷 but that's still a smash, technically speaking.

Jaheira. Ohhhh Jaheira. As far as general dynamics go she would have been the best choice after Astarion, probably - though there is no way in hell or high heavens that she would have ever let him touch her LOL regardless, DU drow finds her looks and personality to be very attractive.

He's pretty much utterly indifferent to anyone else. Wyll is too idealistic, Gale is Gale, Karlach isn't his type, Halsin gets on his nerves - oh, he WOULD have banged Mizora if he hadn't been heads over heels for Astarion by that point.

The man just likes his femmes I guess LOL

HMMMMMMM yes, but since it's not really a porn fic expect any scenes like that to be in line with what we've had so far, where there's more of a focus on developing character dynamics rather than gratuitousness (I hope I've gotten that across, at least LOL).

LOL, It's ok, it's a ridiculous not-name and I'm so sorry for all the people I have made confused and will continue to confuse because of it.

As for your question, definitely not! I personally like big-bottom/smaller-top scenarios so that's why I focus on it, and I do think character-wise those are the roles they fall into most naturally - but they switch around every so often when the mood strikes and it isn't really a big deal.

Oh are you kidding me? The guy LOVES being cared after in an intimate setting. Being doted on, groomed, checked up on, having his hair played with and clothes fixed up - he doesn't express it outwardly much, but these are all things that make his murderous little heart skip a beat. He was the same way pre-tadpole but it was mostly servants and Sceleritas doing it, so he didn't get much out of the exchange; and Orin didn't entertain this at all, or, if she ever did, it was very, very, very rarely and really just a crumb of intimate affection that he most likely misread anyways.

I'm not sure what to say to this one LOL the penis is full of blood already man I don't think a vampire needs to make it any more tempting to themselves to chomp down.

I wrote a thing about that not too long ago :D ! The answer is complicated but, mostly yes.

Alright you joke, but, if you don't think DU drow hasn't spent a little too long lingering over Astarion's feet and ankles then I got amazing news for you.

I touched on what they generally like on the previous edition of Wine Fuelled Spicy Asks, but as for what they like to do as a couple, it's probably a lot of body worship and some playful denial on both ends. Du drow thinks Astarion is the most elegant and limber thing he's ever seen (and he loves how he smells), and Astarion thinks DU drow's body is an expertly put together murder machine. They have a great time being mutually enamored with each other's (and their own) appearances.

I think they also venture into some blood-play and vapid threats of violence in the future, as a treat, but takes a while for them to trust themselves and each other enough to indulge in that kind of thing.

Needs a little direction, plus you gotta learn to enjoy a bit of teeth and a very slobbery time - also I think he distracts easily, It's nice to have a man who's willing to venture the whole perimeter with his mouth but sometimes you do just want him to stay on the prick. But generally speaking - yes, DU drow gives good head. Fun head, even!

What do you people want from me? Do you want schematics? Diagrams? Do you want me to compare their holes to famous people holes? Do you want me to take out my measuring tape and give you numbers, tell you which kind of produce each of them can fit in there???

One is pink, the other one is brown. One of them just looks normal and the other looks and feels a little like it been around the block a few times. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW.

[n30nwrites]

I've Died, Many Years Ago (Jason Todd)

So people liked the first one, now heres this.

Back Next

You've found that you didn't really age. You also didn't bleed anymore and your heart was only 6 beats per minute.

Then their was the cravings.

After your first day of resurrecting, you found a mans dead body, he had a joker smile painted on his lips and you could already taste him. You took a large stray brick and pounded his head in. Over, and over again for the tiniest taste of brain.

Tasting it was seeing the truth, it was Eve's apple dangling from the tree as the serpent whispers how God wasn't here now.

God wasn't here, you wouldn't be this if they were.

You didn't know what to do, you had been dead for years, well three years. You were 19 now, with nowhere to go. You couldn't just resume your life, could you? Your mother was gone, you had no idea where she lived now, and Jason was dead, he had to be.

So what could you do now?

---

It took a year for you to start living. You left Gotham and went to Detroit after fudging your papers, you went by a different last name, and hacked into your old school and Hospital you worked at to submit your documents to the Detroit Police Department.

It's easy to get brains from the dead.

Your boss is Alec Mobek, the head Medical Examiner. He's a decent man, you never attempted to get close to him with small talk but he enjoyed talking for the both of you. He liked some geeky video games and loved his job even more. He was so painfully normal, and you were jealous of that.

He reminds you of everything you could've been.

You used to be ambitious. You used to be passionate. Inspired. Alive. Now, your mostly just hungry.

At least you still had your intuition.

Sometimes you thought about confiding in him. He was older than you, in his 30s, he seemed more like a father-figure than anything. He offered you food, rides to and from work, and had even gotten you more clothes when he noticed how you wore the same outfit to work everyday.

But your burden is of the 'bare it alone' variety. You would know if there were others, there would be an outbreak if there were. Being alone was for the best. You didn't touch anyone, in fear of spreading it. You kept gloves on, your nails trimmed, and never had sex.

It was like a bad STD. But you couldn't die.

In the shitty apartment that you lived in, there were multiple containers of brain just sitting. You liked to finish them off one by one, but sometimes the personalities and flash backs got so overwhelming that you had to switch.

The brain you were last on was a lackey of the Jokers, some man who had lost it long ago. You didn't feel a single thing on his brain, and had constant images of killing people.

You might've been made into a monster, but you wouldn't act upon it.

"Alright, what do you got for me?" Dick Grayson is handsome, if you were human (and older) you probably would've tried to pursue him at one point. He transferred just a few months ago, and unlike other Detectives, he didn't stray from the ME's office because of the bodies.

"An unidentified Jane Doe, found in the back of a garbage truck. The garbage truck was using a crusher so that complicates finding the cause of death. Could be suicide, could be murder." You know Alec cares, it's just that he sees so much death that at one point, if he kept focusing on it, it would ruin him. "My assistant is going to sew her back up, bag her and box her." He walks over to the side where the detective is. Dick has a small frown on his face.

"In your personal opinion, what do you think happened?" Dick questions as he and Alec walk up the stairs. They continue to talk and get quieter, and it was your time to strike.

The autopsy saw sat in your hand, it was plugged in already and when the coast was clear, you cut through the mans skull. You were a professional, this was something you had done to every body since you had gotten there. There were multiple brains in your fridge, having Missing bites, you didn't have to eat everyday, thankfully. A brain usually wore off after three days, and the abilities with them would as well.

You would have flashes of their past, you could gain certain personality traits or habits they had.

You once ate the brain of a man who was considered the right hand man to Joker, he was a looney. You dumped that brain down the disposal after you found yourself buying items for a bomb. You then switched to an older woman.

This Jane Doe would be your meal for the day. You took it out as carefully as you could, ignoring any guilt you could feel as you cut up pieces of her brain and tossed her in with some spicy Beef ramen. Heating what used to be a person up for 3 minutes and scarfing it all down in your mouth. The rest of her brain you kept hidden in the back of the fridge, something that Alec rarely opened.

When Alec comes down, you're filling out some paperwork that just need his signature. He talks about how they have a suspect, someone who was seen on camera arguing with her. Alec only heard that because Dick didn't know how to be quiet.

"I'm heading out for the day, Jane Doe is taken care of. Paperwork as well, you just need to sign off on it."

"Thank you so much..." He looks to where her body is, bagged and tagged as the body is in the cooler. "Detective Grayson, Do you like Him?"

He was your boss, you reminded yourself. You had to answer. "He seems fine."

"You know he's Bruce Wayne's son?"

As was Jason.

"So?" You didn't care, he wasn't Jason. He would never be Jason. He was Dick Grayson, AKA Nightwing, Detective by day and vigilante by night. It sounded like a shitty comic.

Detroit had it's issues, you can't tell how many times you had been shot at or people had tried to rob you. Many villains have stopped by, many underlings trying to be villains had also stop by.

"Most people are on their knees for him."

"Sexually or metaphorically?" You question.

"Both I guess." Alec huffs as he reads over the paperwork, "Susanna likes him, but I guess that with money comes attraction." He seems jealous.

"That and he's considered attractive." You nod your head as you turn to walk away, Alec mutters something about the unknown victim. You grab your backpack and as you go to open the back door, you are suddenly transported.

"I told you to stay away." The voice coming from your body is feminine, she's panting, sweating. You can feel it all. She's exiting out the door, not looking at the man who you assume is following her, he has heavy footprints. "I want nothing to do with you, you're fucking insane-"

"Don't run away from me Stephanie." The man grabs her hand and turns her around and he's decent looking. Nothing compared to your soulmate, but he was easily identifiable.

"My name is Valeria. Valeria Prinsky. Get it through your thick fucking skull." She yanks her hand back and as he lifts his arm, it is quickly stopped by a man in a red helmet.

You come back to Alec saying your name, Dick Grayson was in the room with him, and they were both staring at you. While it didn't feel long, time seems to lose all sense of purpose during your visions. You blink your eyes. "Do we need to call someone?" Dick asks as Alec puts his hand on your shoulder, you quickly pull away.

"No, no I'm fine." You tell them, rolling your neck slightly as you pop it. "I just forgot something." You turn back in, going into the other office away from them and quickly grabbing the brain and stuffing it into your backpack. When you turn away from the fridge, you see Jane Doe's file.

Valeria Prinsky. She has a name, she has a life, and you were living off of her. The least you can do is give her a name. You cross out Jane Doe on the file and write her name, and when you leave, Dick and Alec are talking in hushed whispers.

You can't find it in yourself to care.

[justalittleraven]

LFRP/FFXIV Friends

Hi! I'm Nihil, or Raven to some, and I'm looking for more people to RP or just chat with about FFXIV ocs, lore, and RP. I have a fair few ocs at this point, and most are listed below.

Feel free to message me! Important to note: I don't do ingame RP, as I prefer writing multi-paragraph (usually 2 to 3 paragraphs) messages and replies.

Idun - Budding Blood Mage

Sideblog: @idun-monnawesfv - NonWOL - He/They - Gay - Shipped (It's complicated)

A young Veena only in his 20s, they fled their master after enduring vicious attacks due to not perceiving themself as being male. Since, he has taken up work as a dancer, traveling around Eorzea before meeting a certain unscrupulous doctor in Ishgard. They are affectionately described as a "temperamental little spitfire".

Domitien Ormesang - Cursed Marksman

NonWOL - He/Him - Pan - Heartbroken and Recovering

He was not always a wanderer, in fact he was a weaver of some renown from Gridania before deciding to set out for Ishgard with his companion and lover. They suffered a terrible fate on that journey, however, leading to his lover's soul being consumed by the cursed weapon that he now carries. Now he searches for a way to break the curse and put his lover's soul to rest, by any means necessary.

White Masque - Cursecrafter

NonWOL - Any pronouns - Questioning - Single but Be Prepared

A being so old he has forgotten his birthname, and all that remains of who he was is the mask he takes his name from. His soul carries a stain, one which he routinely excises into cursed items. Feeling no attachment to these, they have been left behind wherever he has traveled, leading to some unfortunate souls stumbling upon one without realizing the price they demand.

Elenwe Celebrindal - Elven Knight

NonWOL - She/Her - Sapphic - Single

Hailing from a line of elves which were blessed long ago by the Pixies, she defends her home from Sin Eaters wherever they appear. She has lost many to the Light, yet she remains as brilliant as a star herself, determined to save any she can from being devoured or transformed. Many who have found themselves alone, without family nor friend after the Flood of Light or attacks by Sin Eaters, have found themselves welcomed by her.

Erravi goe Corvus - Raven Run Astray

NonWOL - He/Him - Gay - Single and Stressed

A former Imperial assassin, titled Censor, Avi was loyal to the empire until he became too much of a threat to leave alive. Every assassin of his order has been executed in secret after a certain number of years in service, and this was his fate too. Though he does not believe in gods, he thought it a miracle when he was taken in by a nobleman who happened upon him on death's door. As fate would have it, the man was a relative of the Lady of Haukke Manor, and Erravi escaped with quite a few new scars after his experience.

Micans Lilius - Naturalborn Lightwarden

WOL - He/Him - Gay - Shipped (Soulmates Beyond Time)

Micans was born in Garlean territory, the youngest of four children. His mother passed away shortly after his birth, something his father blamed him for until his dying day. Before that though, it was 12 years after Micans' birth that his father almost killed him, leaving him with a scar from the gunshot. His siblings bid him to run, and so he did, eventually making his way to Eorzea and starting his journey as the Warrior of Light. At times he believes Hydaelyn made the right choice, as the very Crystal of Light She bestowed upon him was furthering his light poisoning.

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

Here's another long-winded post about me combing through BG3 early access files in search of Aylin and Isobel tidbits - rummaging that already resulted in this post right here. Let me just say I'm pleased to have brought Aylin Silverblood some attention because, again, I think it's a dope name.

Now, obviously, Isobel and Aylin are both Act 2 characters, and early access only covered Act 1. So anything related to them is partial stuff that wasn't scrubbed from the game files for whatever reason, and a lot of placeholders (these are usually indicated by |the text being in vertical lines|). This all means that sometimes (usually!) there are no nice voice lines indexed by UUID and parseable dialogue trees, and you have to trawl through a giant localisation XML of every bit of text in the game instead. An additional complication is all these stories were in flux, but older bits of writing from deprecated iterations didn't get immediately removed from the files, so it's sometimes hard to tell what belongs to which version.

The biggest luck I've had with regards to these two is the 24/11/2021 version of the game - EA Patch #6 Hotfix #19, aka game version v. 4.1.1.1356845, aka the source of Aylin Silverblood (my beloved). Here's a handy list of the patch and hotfix history, if you're like me and interested in this stuff. I'm actually wrangling files from 5 versions of the game right now, ranging from March 2021 to July 2022 - it's been a fun time. This old datamining post on reddit really helped narrow down the timeframe for me to look into.

Why am I doing this? I genuinely find it fun and interesting! There's some neat writing to be found! I crave more Isobel at all times! And I'm always into WIP and "how the sausage is made" type stuff. Also, tons of cool inspo for fics and headcanons.

Note, because I know that's a popular EA tidbit: this is all from after the Halsin killing Isobel variant was scrapped. This is, in fact, the version where she gets killed and soul trapped by Balthazar, and Aylin gets framed for it.

I'm going to start this off with my favourite part, and that is snippets of an early version of the Aylin/Isobel reunion from 2021. I've done my best to put them in order, but be aware a lot of this is still me speculating.

|[CINE: Nightsong teleports the party to the plaza in front of Last Light. As she looks around trying to familiarize herself, Isobel notices your arrival from the balcony. Her reaction is pure shock, followed by an immediate rush down the stairs.]|

|[CINE: Isobel dashes out of the front of the inn, wide-eyed and out of breath. Nightsong stares at her, stunned.]|

Aylin: |(distant, shocked) Isobel.|

Isobel: |Aylin...|

|[CINE: Nightsong takes an instinctive step towards her but stumbles, collapsing to her knees, eyes blown with pain and disbelief. Isobel closes the distance between them in hasty steps, trying to help Nightsong up, but Nightsong tightly grips at her arms - as if the contact makes everything real.]|

|[CINE: Isobel's eyes fill with tears as she drops down to the ground, throwing her arms around Nightsong's shoulders in a tight embrace. Shaking, almost fearful, Nightsong returns the embrace - the first kind touch she's had in a hundred years.]|

|[CINE: Nightsong draws back from the hug, looking Isobel in the eyes. Isobel helps Nightsong to her feet. As the two of them stand, they keep their hands linked.]|

Aylin: |A hundred years. Isobel, light of my heart, where were you? (choking up) I found your body, I....|

Isobel: |I was dead, Aylin. For so long. It was Balthazar - he trapped my soul, he-|

Player: |[Doesn'tKnowRelationship] You were lovers? Did Ketheric know?|

Aylin: |(jaw tightens) We were lovers. Her father was against it. He saw nothing but future misery. I'm immortal. I would never age, but she would.|

Isobel: |He didn't understand. It doesn't matter when... (fearful, as if worried Aylin's feelings might have changed) ... I still love you so much.|

Aylin: |(her first genuine smile) And I, you. No trial or pain could ever change that. (relaxes a touch) It is why I couldn't leave your body, even when they came. Balthazar and that Sharran witch told your father that I was to blame.|

|And he believed them over you?|

Aylin: |(frowns) He believed what he wanted to believe. Ketheric saw his daughter dead, and he saw someone he wanted to hurt. Shar took that cruel thread, that moment of mortal pain, and used it to corrupt him to the core.|

Aylin: |I was put on trial, and I had no defence. The moment it was over, I was taken down to the temple and... well, you saw what they had done.|

|Isobel presses against Nightsong's side, face tight with worry, running her fingers in slow strokes up and down Nightsong's arm.|

|[CINE: Nightsong tilts her head back towards the player.]|

Aylin: |These heroes saved me. Without them, I'd still be trapped in Balthazar's soul cage, with Ketheric gripping my heart like a leech.|

|[CINE: Isobel's face falls at the mention of her father's name.]|

Isobel: |A *soul cage*? Gods.|

Isobel: |I didn't know. Gods, he didn't say a word to me. I ran away because it was Balthazar that brought me back. As I ran, I heard my father shouting... but I'd seen enough. There was no saving him.|

Aylin: |You are not your father, Isobel. (sad, wry smile) You were the only thing that kept me alive in the dark. When hope began to fade, I simply thought of you.|

Isobel: |[To player] Thank you. (smiles wide) I... I can't possibly thank you enough, for bringing Aylin back to me.|

|Nightsong smiles too, but she's lost looking at Isobel, completely tuning out everyone else around them. Isobel leans in, resting her brow against Nightsong's and closing her eyes, Nightsong's hand clutched to her chest.|

Then, there is an option to press Isobel for details:

|You said the necromancer trapped your soul. Why?| |Was Balthazar the one who killed you, Isobel?|

Isobel: |(hesitant, visibly guilty) I think Aylin would know better than I do. The last thing I remember is a blade in the dark. Too fast to feel pain. Then silence.|

Asking Isobel to go with you to Moonrise was possible at various points, leading to different responses:

Will you come with me to Moonrise? I could use your help. If we're going to stop Ketheric, you have to come with me.

Until there is a way to keep Last Light safe, I cannot leave. All I can do is pray. |Not if everyone is killed at Last Light in my absence. I'll do everything I can to help you from here, but I won't go with you.| |Not if everyone is killed at Last Light in my absence. If someone else could take my place, I would go with you. I swear it.|

|Nightsong is here, she will protect Last Light - let's go to Moonrise, like you promised.| |I want to spend the night with Aylin. Meet me at Moonrise tomorrow.| |Nightsong will protect the people while together we can stop Ketheric.|

Isobel: I... we need to get close to him, don't we? And Aylin can protect Last Light in my absence. Aylin: Isobel, I have just gotten you back. To put yourself in his hands again-

Looks like we would've had a flip of the current Act 2 boss fight, and Isobel would be the ally for the confrontation with Ketheric, not Aylin. Also, that one line right there that is our first indication of Succor™, gotta love it. Sadly, post-reunion I only have:

|TBD: Post Nightsong Reunion.| |How are you and Aylin doing?|

To borrow release version Isobel's stock line: KEEPING VERY WELL, I HOPE? In any case, I'm putting the rest under a cut, featuring options for calling Isobel out on her parentage, Aylin being from Mt. Celestia, and Balthazar being gross - among many other things.

At one point quite early on, Isobel's protection from the shadow curse wasn't a spell, but an ointment:

|Ointment of Selûne| |Ointment Container PLACEHOLDER| |Isobel filled this with precious doses of her sacred Ointment of Selûne.| |First get the ointment from Isobel.| Have you received Isobel's ointment yet? What protection can her ointment offer, exactly? You should see Isobel. If Marcus does crop up, I'd sooner you had her ointment to protect you. Can use that cleric's ointment to get you on your way. But I have to move out - now. Can I get some of your ointment? No more theories! It's time for action. Our secret weapon needs to travel to Moonrise Towers, which means they'll need your ointment. You have the ointment. You have the Gate Stone. Moonrise Towers awaits. Are you sure the ointment will last long enough?

What is now Isobel's Ominous Cough was a gradual weakening that was remarked upon and seemed to be there to create more of a sense of urgency:

I won't claim to know Isobel's craft, but Selûne's light is bright in her. Isobel's tough - though she was tougher at the start. I've rarely seen a cleric so in tune with her goddess, but the curse is taking its toll. The light used to be stronger, Isobel. How much more of this curse can you take? You look paler than death, Isobel. How much more of this curse can you take?

We have some nice concise infodumps on Ketheric:

After Ketheric turned to darkness, the Enclave joined with the Harpers to unseat him and his Sharran cohorts. We marched together, fought together, bled together... and in the end we prevailed.

Only it wasn't the end. Nothing seemed to kill Ketheric himself, so the Harpers decided to seal him in his own tomb, alive. They thought that would be enough. But they hadn't counted on Ketheric unleashing the shadow curse. We watched it drain all light and life away from this place, saw it twist people into abominations. The Harpers lost hope.

Ketheric wove the curse on this land. The moment he was sealed in that tomb, Shar's poison devoured everything in its path.

Fallen paladin. Champion of Shar. He was building an army bent on unholy conquest, but we stopped him. Killed him. Buried him.

It was not enough. General Thorm lives again. He's built a new army, and this time he marches under the banner of the Absolute.

November 2021 is the earliest mention of Aylin I found, mostly marked as not finalised and placeholder dialogue (and that reunion up there). The Nightsong as present in that patch is still very different from what we ended up getting - nobody was killing her, in fact people were coming to get her "kiss", and there was a whole thing where it seems like Shar would directly take control of her and you could help her overcome the curse, or abandon her to it - or kill her. 

Embrace the Nightsong and be sworn to Eternal Shadow.

Anyway, here are her lines (all of these exist as voice files, which is rare for stuff I put in this post - but they're done by a voice actress who doesn't sound like Helen Keeley, our final Aylin VA, so I don't know what to make of it all tbh):

Shar is the Nightsinger, and I am her Nightsong. I am her instrument, transforming the faithful into shadows. I've been here for centuries. Do you know how many priests of Shar came here, full of faith, seeking my kiss? I've been here for centuries. Thousands of Sharrans came here seeking my kiss. I drink their sorrow, their loss, their grief. Then I vomit it back into the world. All of them are shadows now. That is Shar's only reward. But Ketheric returned for my kiss, over and over. You're the first to survive my kiss intact. You're the only one who can help me. Please, you have to help. No one's ever resisted the kiss before. No one has ever resisted my kiss. But you are not merely *one*, are you? That thing in your head must be incredibly powerful to resist a goddess. Perhaps it's also divine in nature. Because a mind can't survive two masters. It breaks us. Shar's attention must be elsewhere. Speak quickly. She's watching now. She's waiting to steal my voice. But it won't last. Please - listen! I was captured by Ketheric Thorm, Shar's chosen. He turned me into this creature. I'm a slave of Shar. She owns me, just like that thing in your head owns you. I want to sing my own song. Not Shar's. Not *Ketheric's*. Find Ketheric. Kill him so I can be free! Slay Ketheric. His wretched existence binds me to this temple. Oh. That made her angry. The Lady returns! She has me again! *Again!* Stop! You've driven her away!

I am not your *spectacle*. Turn away before I strike you blind. Tell them to come and receive my kiss.

Some possible relevant tags, interactions, and outcomes include:

|The soul cage has greatly weakened Nightsong| |Debug: click to save Nightsong (sets the flag to talk to Isobel)| |We sided with Ketheric and doomed Nightsong.| |Companion comment!||But if his power is linked to this Nightsong, there must be a way to unlink it.| |You have taken control of Ketheric's Soul Cage| |You are bound to Ketheric's soul cage, taking his regenerative powers for yourself| |Bound to Soul Cage| |Soul Cage Key| |Soul Cage Research| |The book details the necromancer's research on the soul cage| |There is a glimpse of Isobel's ghost, as she takes her Father with her to the afterlife.| |There is a glimpse of Isobel's ghost terrified and in agony. Both Isobel and Ketheric will disappear.|

At one point Isobel delivers her own, Ketheric's, and Aylin's backstory as "a story", but sadly I can find very little of it, just disjointed fragments:

You seem to know a lot about Ketheric. He was a devout Selûnite who converted to Shar. They say it was Ketheric's purity that drew an angel down from Celestia. You're Isobel Thorm. The daughter who died in that story.

And there seem to be many options to question Isobel about her hiding the truth about her father:

Why are you lying to me, Isobel? Everyone thinks you're dead, Isobel. Tell me the truth, Isobel. Everything. Still, Isobel might have saved us some time had she been honest from the beginning. |Why didn't you tell me what happened from the start, Isobel?|

Ketheric. Don't you mean your father? Ketheric is your father. I know the truth. Ketheric told me at Moonrise. He wants me to bring you home. I need your father to trust me. He wants you back. You sent me after your father - Ketheric. I think we should discuss Ketheric - your father - first. For all you've said about Ketheric, you left out the part where he's your father.

To which I've found some responses:

And would you have trusted her? Ketheric's daughter? Why didn't I tell you that I was murdered, that my soul was locked away for a hundred years? What would I have told her? That my father murdered her fellow Harpers, but that I can surely be trusted?

[Attempt to read Isobel's thoughts.] *You see Ketheric standing before Isobel, although the memory is hazy. His words are unclear, but his tone is not - he is pleading with her.*

Brought back by the same man that killed me. Balthazar. Standing next to my father with a smile on his face.

But I'm not sure it would have mattered. To stand with that man, my father has surrendered to deepest evil.

I would love to know what the whole pleading thing is about, and what Isobel "didn't know" that she claims didn't matter anyway.

My father. After a century, he somehow brought me back. But I saw the monster he had become. I couldn't bear it... I ran. I ran until I found Last Light. It was like a second home to me, once. I've been studying the curse ever since, searching for answers. Trying to restore the damage my father has wrought upon this land. It's possible I may have to sacrifice myself. But this is my father's crime.

And then, there is this nugget I cannot place but that I like: 

|Your father's due will come.|

There is also an option to tell her Nightsong is Aylin (who was, at this point, a full celestial - no mention of being connected to Selûne, though, and in fact, if she was indeed from Mount Celestia as mentioned in the "story", she would not have been):

Isobel: My father's curse still blackens this earth. Have you found anything? Player: A celestial, chained to Ketheric's soul. Player: They called her Nightsong, but she told me her name was Aylin. Isobel: Aylin. She... she's alive. I knew she had to be, I… Player: Ketheric's necromancer took her to Moonrise. Isobel: His necromancer? Gods, you have to free her. Isobel: You have to go to Moonrise and free Aylin. When Ketheric is weak, this can all be over. Isobel: The truth is that I would give anything to see her again, and anything to stop my father. Free her, and you do both. Isobel: At least, the shell of my father. There's nothing left of the man that championed Selûne. Isobel: Find her. Free her. If Ketheric isn't stopped, all of us are doomed.

Player: |[Doesn'tKnowName] Aylin? Care to explain?| Isobel: The angel in my story about Ketheric. That was Aylin.

Speaking of Balthazar. Some lines from him:

[Introductory note: please imagine everything Balthazar says spoken with a wheezy voice, as if he's permanently out of breath.]

[I need to retrieve the Nightsong, but the temple is haunted and my minions cannot make it past the trial grounds. I cannot go there until the ghosts have been dealt with. Now that you are here on behalf of Ketheric, you will do all this for me.]

I, Fodder, am here on behalf of General Ketheric Thorm. Down in the depths of this temple writhes his desire. I am to bring it to him.

I created the Nightsong for General Ketheric, many moons... HEAR THAT SHAR? Many moons ago.

*As you hold the necromancer's mocking gaze, you can tell how it starts to dawn on him you are not the mere minion he thought you were.*

Along the way I found some more recent Patch 8 (2022-ish) gross Balthazar lines, some bits of which have actually survived to release:

She was a unique specimen even before I began my work. Aasimar. A god's blood united with mortal flesh.

Such fine clay she was. We grew quite close as I… remoulded her. Now she is General Thorm's shield. Her strength is his to drink upon. His pains are hers to bear.

If I never exceed her, I will still die happy. If I ever do something as gauche as truly dying, that is.

Utterly revolting! Makes my skin crawl! Man deserves a yeeting into the Shadowfell a hundred times over! But in order to not end on a gross note, I leave you with:

Ketheric Thorm. Murderer. Oathbreaker.

Aylin Silverblood. My true name. Nightsong was only ever a curse.

[lemon-natalia]

Nona the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 30

shuttles seem to be the main form of transport on the Houses so have any of these people ever actually driven before?? like maybe Corona since she might have learned with BoE, but she’s not helping with the driving at all here lol. like it’s just wild to me that the first time Paul is driving anywhere is literally through a weird ghost dimension

Corona calling Judith ‘Jody’ and trying to comfort her but with no response … listen i haven’t been too focused on their dynamic but truly this is killing me

Pyrrha calling Nona ‘Kiddie’ and Gideon ‘Kid’, like Pyrrha clearly wants some kind of connection with Gideon but it’s seemingly way too late for that now, while Nona is quite literally dying in front of her eyes. actually everybody in this book is killing me, every relationship dynamic is so goddamn tragic 

also i can’t imagine Kiriona is particularly happy about Pyrrha calling her ‘kid’. i mean they’ve got a very complicated relationship even outside of Gideon being in her ‘teen angst’ phase right now

‘the pupil that was cool grey-brown’ listen i am no medical professional but. i don’t think that’s how pupils work? i'm wayy overthinking a fictional world here, and Paul is a Lyctor so i doubt normal laws of physics apply to their body, but like. pupils are holes in ur eyes no, so i don't think they can be the colour of irises?

okayy so some more weird stuff to do with the Tower here, namely ‘He left them too long - you left them too long’ i wonder if this has something to do with the problem in the River Abigail mentioned during HtN ... so possibly the Tower is the result of something to do with the Resurrection? or connected to the Tomb?? at least it’s somehow John’s fault, even indirectly. although tbf ‘John’s fault, even indirectly’ could describe practically everything that happens in this series 

‘the hole, the hole, the hole’ that’s what she said

oh i love Nona so much, her constant dissociation throughout the chapter, and the struggles here both with her autonomy and with all of the things she’s been through, and how she literally only wants to die properly as Nona, is so heartbreaking. this is cool this is fine i’m not crying wdym

NOODLE!!! ohhh my god, Nona only decides to go on because Noodle is in the backseat!! i guess taking the dog along was a good idea after all