#if it isn’t i will be mentally unstable for a very very long time

[parasolladyansy]

watching the rain

One last thing before I actually focus on DxP loool have a little mental health break with us & a relaxing rainy Pokemon playlist by shadowatnoon 🌧️

The rest of this post might be upsetting if topics like mental health, depression, or trauma are sensitive ones to you. If that’s you, maybe stop here, & just watch the rain with us (& take care of yourself, okay?) 🩵

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So. “What now?”

For a lot of us, the world feels very scary right now. I’ve been going back & forth between wanting to hide & wanting to take action. The current atmosphere is familiar in a bad way, just as familiar as the ones who’re making it feel this unsafe. At least I’m not alone this time. I’d like to help anyone feeling alone now to not be, too.

With that in mind, I figured maybe it could be helpful if I shared some things that helped me when things were unsafe &/or unstable in my life.

If that sounds like something you may want or need right now for whatever reason, get comfy - I, uh, spent waaay more time than I planned to on this (been sitting in my drafts for days) 🫖

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Decide you are going to make it through this

Right now, every day, & especially during those dark, starless nights.*

You have the right to exist & be happy. You have the right to live how you want, with whom you want, & you deserve the safety & security to live that life. That is your basic human right. So keep going. Keep living the best you can, even if your best is just “enough”.

*If you ever feel unsafe or self-destructive, reach out to someone safe - family, a friend, your therapist, 988 (the national crisis lifeline), or whoever can help you best in that moment. While it can be scary or embarrassing, you’re worth it 🩵

Stay grounded in the truth

Always hold onto who you are & what you know to be true. Always.

I really believe this was ultimately what got me out of the bad situations I was trapped in. Even when I was at the point when I constantly blamed myself or believed every awful thing I was taught about myself & the world, there was always a small part of me that still knew, “No. That’s not true. This isn’t right.”

This can take a lot of mental fortitude, especially if there’s an unsafe person trying to challenge your truth or identity, or if they are actively doing what they can to gaslight you (& your peers so they can pass their behavior off as acceptable, even “right”). If you find yourself in a spot where it’s not safe to freely be yourself, remember: so long as there’s a part of you that holds onto the truth, you can make it.

So hold onto that, even if it makes you confused, or so angry you feel sick - it’s confusing because reality doesn’t match up with the truth, & it makes you angry because it’s unjust that it doesn’t. No matter what people say, the sky is still blue.

Detox your contacts

Depending on who it is, this is going to SUCK, but I can absolutely promise you this: your relief will outweigh your grief. Every single time I’ve said goodbye to toxic / unsafe people, places, communities, etc. I was always happier for it in the end.

Could be as simple as setting reasonable boundaries (if you don’t know what boundaries are as once I didn’t, it’s basically your human right to say “no” & have personal space), or if they’ve proven they will not respect your boundaries, saying goodbye until / unless they will.

There are some you can’t make that healthy separation right now - maybe you’re a minor or dependent adult in a toxic home, or you don’t have another job lined up from your toxic one yet. Whatever your situation is, this where you try to keep things on your terms as much as you can, & do whatever you can to ensure your immediate well-being as you make any boundaries or exit plans as needed for your long term well-being.

I’ve been hearing a lot of stories of people uninviting folks (or themselves) from the upcoming holidays. Been there. If you find yourself having to spend it with limited / no company: it can be lonely at first, but it can also be really nice when I looked for ways to celebrate anyways (dive into all the nice things about the season, have a little Friendsgiving, or just have a cozy one at home) ^_^

Find safe people (but be careful)

I said in a post not long ago that unsafe people often try to isolate you so you feel all alone. It’s easy to feel alone when bad things are happening - that’s why it’s important to have safe people to turn to when they happen. Especially now, we need to be there for each other. 🩵

Here’s the “be careful” part: not all of your safe people will be able to be there for you in every kind of moment. Most are just your buddies you can laugh & play with, forget your worries for a while as you talk about the weather. Some can listen to your troubles & worries, offering whatever comfort or advice they can. Very few can be there with you when you’re IN the trouble, & stand by you as needed.

Depending on how vulnerable you are, it can be very easy to cling to the wrong one, which can be embarrassing at best, very unsafe at worst. Wait. Take a breath. Sleep on it if you have to. Take as much time as you need to assess if they’re the one to be with you in whatever way you need.

I can’t tell you how much easier it’s been for me to keep going no matter how bad things got with even one safe person to turn to. When you’ve found that person, be sure to treasure them! 🩵🩵🩵

Enjoy life whenever you can! ^0^

In times like this, it’s so important to remember that there ARE still good things, good people, good places in this world. We need to make time for these good things, even if just for a few minutes.

So dive into your hobbies, keep your passions alive! Hang out with your friends, play Pokémon, draw, read, write, swim, play with your pet. Dust off the instruments you’ve been neglecting, have an awful jam sesh, laugh about it, & keep playing until it sounds kinda okay! If you don’t have a hobby, find one - it can be a lot of fun to discover what you like! Whatever is in your means that makes you feel happy & alive, do that

The thing I’ve always turned to the most is drawing - I have all these old diaries & sketchbooks from when I was a kid of just doodles & comics. My school notebooks all the way up to college have margins full of drawings - doodling helped me stay in the present. Then I started posting them online over the years, made some friends, & here we are! ^7^

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I can appreciate that this advice isn’t perfect, & it may not fit your exact circumstances. That’s okay - if there’s even just one good thing you can take from this, then I’m happy.

To anyone who might be struggling right now & feel hopeless: thank you so much for being here! I am overjoyed that you are still here with us, even when you had days, weeks, even years when all you wanted to do was give up (I know). Keep living. Keep smiling whenever you can. Keep reaching out. Keep weathering that storm, even when no one else can hear it thundering over you. I’ve found that when I kept going, it’ll clear up…usually before you realize it. 🌦️🌈

Stay safe out there. Lots of love,

Anastasia (aka Ansy) 🩵

[crypticsketchpad]

HEY FOLKS DIDJA MISS ME. anyways here’s something I’ve been workin on for the past few weeks, some actual reference pics for the folks from these posts! I think it’s time they got a proper ref and lore post (it’s been, what, over a year since I made them?), soooooo :] buckle up. individual pics + bios under the cut; content warning for death, gore/body horror, unethical science and/or medical malpractice, I guess some minor mentions of self harm and emotional abuse… let’s just say they’ve been through a lot

CHIMERA

they/it - 23’5 - ~400 y/o - epic wubbox..?

Chimera can only be described as a true monstrosity among monsterkind. Its three components were unfortunately torn apart in an interdimensional travel accident, and in a desperate attempt to save them, their sibling Matrix decided to combine the three into one semi-intact body. Whether or not their efforts were successful is debatable; Chimera is highly physically unstable, and isn’t exactly all there mentally. It’s usually kept away from the eyes of the public, housed in the bowels of the Ethereal Island castle.

Resents Matrix for bringing them back, as they use this fact to control them. They insist that Chimera owes them their lives, and that they should be grateful, but constantly mistreats and neglects them.

Most of its original mechanical parts were damaged in the incident, so their body’s construction is supplemented by the body parts of other ethereal monsters.

EEKTO

The “primary” head, Eekto has the most control over Chimera’s body. It’s the only one who can see and hear clearly (though not by much…), so it serves as the collective’s eyes and mouth. Associated with the element of plasma, it now constantly leaks plasmic goop from its mouth, eyes, and neck joints, making it hard to speak without choking on its own saliva. The flame that engulfs its eyes grants Eekto enhanced vision in the dark, and allows it to detect things that aren’t visible to the average monster. In life, it was the oldest of the five siblings.

NOCK

The second most active head, what Nock lacks in hearing and sight it makes up for in chattiness. It’s the main mouth of the body, consuming large amounts of food at once in order to sustain all three of them. While usually relying on Eekto to be its eyes, it can also “see” by using its long, snake-like tongue to smell its surroundings, and is capable of picking up minor sound vibrations with the membranes of its Grumpyre wing “ears”. Nock’s demeanor is almost always disturbingly cheerful, and it seems to be in blissful denial of its current situation. It’s always happy to strike up a conversation with whatever monster happens to stumble upon them while lost in the castle- unless it’s Matrix, of course.

FRAKTAL

Fraktal, associated with the element of Crystal, was the worst fatality of the trio. Its head is basically all that remains of its original body, but even so, it’s in very bad shape. Frozen in a state of decay, it’s become a host to many crystalline growths that have covered its mangled face and “neck”. It is completely unresponsive to outside stimuli, and only ever moves when one of its other two siblings decides to move their shared body’s tail. The other two, however, act as if it is still alive somehow, treating and addressing it as such. Sometimes, though, one of the other heads may sense a signal from their tail; a faint, abstract thought that is not their own.

MATRIX

they/them - 11’1” - 431 y/o - rare wubbox

A self-proclaimed “genius” scientist, Matrix loves nothing more than to upgrade themself and others through body modification. Creating questionable prosthetics from miscellaneous materials, they kidnap and experiment on monsters against their will, leaving them mutilated at best, and in some cases, whatever unfortunate victim enters their lab never comes out. Matrix’s mission is to “improve” the lives of the Ethereal monsters, who they’ve proclaimed themself the leader of. They see other monsters as nothing more than test subjects who should be happy for the help they’re providing, falsely believing that their work will benefit monsterkind as a whole, and that anyone who opposes is simply ungrateful.

The first rare wubbox to ever exist, Matrix used their supernatural ability to create interdimensional rifts to access the human world. Inspired by what they saw, they rebuilt every part of themself in order to reflect that technological influence. Pleased by their transformation, they created copies of themself, which they distributed across the monster world; as such, nearly every rare wubbox is a clone of Matrix, with a few exceptions.

Using their aforementioned interdimensional abilities, they’ve shut off Ethereal Island from the rest of the monster world, preventing anyone other than themself from entering or leaving. Any Ethereal monsters who live on the Natural Islands are descended from ones who left their home island before Matrix and co’s arrival.

They were the one who rebuilt Chimera, and the perceived success of this operation is what inspired them to experiment on other monsters in an attempt to make them better than they were before. They also use this fact to keep Chimera under control, constantly reminding them that they literally owe them their lives.

Their extra set of tail-arms were assembled from parts leftover from Chimera’s creation. These arms are very flexible, and can extend and retract slightly, though they are not as strong as one may think. (Which means that unfortunately, Matrix can’t do the Doc Ock arm walk thingy.)

While Chimera’s components are affiliated with three of the Ethereal elements, Matrix is affiliated with the Mech element, and was taught the basics of engineering by one of their creators, a Vhamp named Khord. In the present day, they find Mech-element monsters the ideal subject to use for their projects.

ZYPHUR

it/its - 12’3” - 427 y/o - common wubbox

Scarred and damaged- not just physically but mentally- by the horrors it’s had to participate in, Zyphur is Matrix’s unwilling lab assistant. Serving as the brawn to its sibling’s brains, its main role is to gather subjects for Matrix to use in their experiments; it’s easily large and powerful enough to capture and restrain the other Ethereal monsters, but that doesn’t make the process any easier for all involved. Zyphur resents its job, and feels terrible forcing its captives to participate in the twisted whims of its older sibling, but it really doesn’t have a choice. It depends on them for food, shelter, and care, and feels obligated to help them due to familial ties. Despite this, Matrix constantly berates, mistreats, and manipulates it, keeping it as their own little lackey for whatever tasks they need done.

It was forced to help gather Chimera’s body parts immediately after the accident, and assisted Matrix in reassembling them. It was in a state of shock the entire time, still reeling from its own injuries, and begging its one remaining sibling for some semblance of comfort, which it never received. Before the accident, Matrix was often dismissive but still kind towards Zyphur, but this soon changed to pure disdain and superiority towards it in the aftermath.

Ended up the least scathed after the accident, with its most major injury being a severe head wound, practically ripping half its face apart. Despite Matrix’s efforts to repair it, this wound never healed properly, leaving a massive scar on one side of its mouth.

Associated with the Poison element, which is clearly visible in its eyes. Its major bodily fluids (notably tears, blood, and saliva) are tinted a vivid green and are somewhat acidic, leaving marks on whatever they touch. They are also toxic to other monsters and may cause skin damage or poisoning when exposed to them. In theory, Zyphur is capable of spitting jets of poison saliva as a defense mechanism, but tends to just let it passively drip out of its mouth.

Due to the extreme neglect, trauma, and isolation it’s had to endure, Zyphur is somewhat developmentally stunted, and behaves much younger than it is. When the Cataclysm and subsequent accident happened, it was mentally around 15 years old, and hasn’t emotionally progressed much since.

Most of the time, when its parts haven’t been repaired for a while, the edges of its gauntlet pieces are broken, with pieces of the prongs on the end often missing. This damage is self inflicted, fueled by Zyphur’s guilt towards the pain others have suffered because of it. It feels that Chimera’s components didn’t deserve to undergo such a horrible fate, and that it should have taken their place instead. Matrix simply sees this damage as the result of clumsiness, and often scolds it because of this.

Refuses to interact with Chimera- or any other monster, really- whenever it can help it; the feelings of guilt it holds about their situations are too painful to bear.

Very malnourished, and doesn’t get to eat real food very often. Its main diet consists of Matrix’s leftovers and whatever mutilated, “unusable” monster parts remain after their experiments.

ALVA

it/its - 13’5” - 433 y/o - common wubbox

A brilliant (albeit shut-in) scientist, Alva is the creator of Wublin Island and its denizens. When not looking after its “children” (the Wublins), it spends most of its time tinkering and experimenting with new ways to put the knowledge gained from its previous projects to good use. Between these two tasks, it’s almost always exhausted, and tends to overwork itself, refusing to sleep for days and putting its work and the needs of the Wublins before its own well-being. Despite this behavior, Alva is mostly satisfied with the life it’s built for itself.

One of the oldest living wubboxes from the Dawn of Fire, and one of the first to be created; it lived through the Cataclysm but doesn’t like to talk about its experience very much.

VERY bad at caring for itself in general; it doesn’t replace its parts as often as it should, causing itself chronic pain and fatigue. Alva tries to remedy this by occasionally using a shoddy cane it made for itself, but doesn’t do so often, insisting it’s fine- often while visibly having difficulty standing and walking.

Adores the Wublins and would do anything for them; though it’s quite exhausting caring for them all, it loves them very much, and tries its best to keep them happy. This also involves it hiding any sort of negative emotions or pain it feels in front of them, as it doesn’t want its children to worry about it.

Inherited the gift of the spark of life from its creator, a Galvana named Ivolta, who was the original inventor of the wubbox.

Typically doesn’t interact with the outside world much, but periodically allows airships from other islands to bring it supplies and monster eggs. It doesn’t like to leave the island, but may do so on rare occasions if its expertise is needed- namely, it was recently contacted by a team of monsters who want to use its statue-waking tech to reawaken the newly discovered Celestials.

Before the fall of Starhenge, Alva was Matrix’s best friend; the two were very close, bonding over their similar interests in robotics and bioengineering, and often collaborated on projects. However, after seeing how drastically different they are now and how harmful their “work” has become, it is disgusted by them, refusing to speak to them, despite their constant, oblivious attempts to befriend it again.

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PHEW that was a lot haha, anyways, if anyone has any questions about these guys, feel free to ask in the replies or my askbox! (i’ll try and respond in a timely manner lmao) been working on this storyline for a while now and I can definitely expand on some of these things if anyone’s interested :]

[slightlyartist]

Ik you’re still in the process of making lore but I have have Steve - Fidds questions!

1. What is Pyramid Steve getting out of making these deals? Is he helping Bill with his Weirdmageddon stuff? Is he stealing things from his Victims other than what’s given (like slowly taking all their money and savings/their life force/whatever he uses for currency) to pay his alimony? Or is he just doing this because he likes doing HUMAN THINGS as a HUMAN MAN and it’s FUN and a BUSINESS and TOTALLY DIFFERENT from sitting around on his laptop playing the sims all day so he doesn’t need to deal with his OWN issues (like his divorce)?

2. Is he helpful with little things *at first* to make sure his ‘customers’ trust him to deal with more and more stuff? Like at first he comes to Fidds when it’s been a month since he last did laundry because he was too scared to go down to the laundry room and Steve tells him he has a Magic Product to Help with Anxiety! Then Fidds feels all floaty and calm and out of it. Next thing Fidds knows, his laundry is clean, folded and, put away, AND he even washed and redid his bedsheets! And he took a shower and is wearing fresh clothes! Wow! He just barely remembers any of it, like trying to remember a dream, but who cares! The Product is Working! Yay! And it’s a very easy slope from that to Fidds thinking “I’ve been ghosting Emma-May (who’s upset with me) for a week now and my hands shake thinking about it, I need to use Product and call her to work things out! OH NO Apparently I sounded like a weird British man trying to do a southern accent the whole conversation and now she thinks I’m taking drugs! And is MORE upset with me! I need to call her and fix things! Which I can only do with the help of Product! My life is crumbling around me.”

3. Please work the plastic bag of DvDs Steve carries around and pet centipede into this au. This isn’t a question this is a request. And the fact he eats copper wires! Does he make the humans he controls also eat Copper Wires? Does he make the humans buy or steal copper wires for him so he can eat them?

4. Uh. What do you imagine being hypnotized feels like to Fidds (the first few times before he starts going brain dead)? I’m guessing it’s not just blacking out if victims get addicted to the *feeling* of being hypnotized as well as getting addicted to the ability to step out of their life for a bit.

5. Does Fidds already being pretty into the ‘beginnings of permanent brain damage’ stage of memory gun use have any affect on Steve’s ability to hypnotize/control Fidds? Since he’s basically controlling Fidds from his laptop, the main hardware he’s running his program on being janked up could have some effect on how well Stiddlepord ‘runs’.

6. What do the ‘side effects’ of Product start to look/feel like in the victims? Like we know what the memory gun’s side effects look like in action because of that supercut of Fidds decent. And can partial brain function eventually be recovered like with the memory gun? Or is Pyramid Steve eventually just puppeting a corpse until it starts to decompose?

7. Uhhhhh. Can I write fanfiction. Of this au.

Anyway this ask is way too long, I know, but if I write fanfiction on this I want it to be lore accurate and not just my own thing, and it’s such a cool au!!! I crave more!! More of the unstable divorced man ‘possessing’ the other unstable divorced man!! Amazing!!

HELLO HELLO! Thank you for being so interested in this silly AU!! Okay I'm going to sit down and properly think about all of this!

Fun fact! If Ford refers Bill as My Muse, Fidds refers Steve as My Elixir ;)

What is Pyramid Steve getting out of making these deals?

As opposed to Bill and his love for physical pain, Steve craves mental and emotional misery. Like a parasite feeding off the psychological pain they are experiencing, that's why his aim is to ruin their lives even more, kicking his customers when they are already down.

Bill and Steve are not allies. In fact Bill HATES Steve's guts. They are aware of each other, Fidds is not aware that Ford has Bill, Ford is not aware that Fidds has Steve, but they both know something is off about the other.

Hypnotized Fiddlesteve would change the maths of the Portal blueprints that Possessed Billford spent hours making the day before, hilarity ensues ❤️

2. Is he helpful at first?

You put it perfectly into words! If the Memory Gun was a metaphor for Alcohol, Steve is straight up a metaphor for Drugs. Sure, it can work at first, makes you feel productive, fills you with energy, eases your worries and is a distraction. But how long does that take before things start getting out of hand? First week, Steve helps you with EVERYTHING. He finishes all of Fidds' tasks in less than a day, Ford praises Fidds' efficiency, Fidds is literally on cloud nine! He needs to call that weird guy again. He needs to keep this going. But then as time goes on, things get a bit weird, the maths aren't adding up, things are tense between Ford and him and he doesn't know why, uh oh, he needs help! He needs His Elixir. He will make everything right. (Spoiler: things start to go downhill from there)

3. Does he make the humans he controls also eat Copper Wires?

A picture is worth a thousand words ;)

4. What do you imagine being hypnotized feels like to Fidds (the first few times before he starts going brain dead)?

I think he does black out sometimes when Steve takes over without any warning, but when Fidds willingly reaches out to Steve I'm guessing it feels like when Mable ate that expired candy. Just pure vibes!

5. Does Fidds already being pretty into the ‘beginnings of permanent brain damage’ stage of memory gun use have any affect on Steve’s ability to hypnotize/control Fidds?

It just made everything easier! You see, Steve's perfect customers are those who are "weak-minded". Hypnosis wouldn't work on those who are strong-willed. It would just wear off after some brief time, or they would just turn down Steve's offerings. That's why Fidds is so easy to manipulate. In fact, Steve's hypnosis will end up causing even more brain damage to the victim in the long run. Fidds' brain will begin to atrophy and his nervous system will start to collapse.

6. What do the ‘side effects’ of Product start to look/feel like in the victims?

While not under hypnosis, the victim can experience: Brain Atrophy, photosensitivity, seizures, increased paranoia, hallucinations, weight loss, isolation (Steve would push away everyone), drowsiness, random twitches, memory issues, inability to perform everyday tasks and decisions... I'm currently designing Old Man Fiddlesteve and it's making me so unbelievably sad by just staring at him...

Can partial brain function eventually be recovered like with the memory gun? Or is Pyramid Steve eventually just puppeting a corpse until it starts to decompose?

Both! There are two ways to stop Hypnosis: the victim's mind becomes somehow "strong" enough to get rid of hypnosis, or Steve could just let that victim free because it reached a point in life in which everything is already so messed up that it hit rock bottom, becoming brain-dead and not useful.

If you get rid of hypnosis in the early stage, it's easier to regain control of your life. If, like Fidds, you've been under hypnosis for decades, it would take A REALLY INTENSE treatment to regain AT MOST 45% of the original brain potential. Since it was a coping mechanism stronger and more aggressive than the Memory Gun, your brain will suffer so many side effects and the atrophy can only heal until a certain point. Fidds can't catch a break in any AU I fear...

7. Can I write fanfiction. Of this au.

YESS i'd love to read it!! My "lore-accurate" tip is to just follow the canon, but with Fidds hiding Steve from Ford the same way he hid the memory gun from him. (The memory gun is still part of this AU tee-hee). Just four divas having intense beef with each other. Fiddlesteve was the perfect excuse to come up with more Fiddauthor toxic angst :>

As you can see I will try to share some of his lore by using Computer entries (and Journal entries to show Ford's POV) but you can just take creative liberties since everything is a huge WIP, or you can DM me your thoughts! <3

[yanderelinkeduniverse]

Yandere Sky Headcanons

Sky is, without a doubt, a hopeless romantic when he’s in love. We’ve seen him swoon and sigh dreamily when thinking about his loved one, he’s THAT kind of lover boy. Naturally, when adding a layer of insanity tinged love sickness to that adoration, he’s prone to becoming very affectionate.

Unless you are as dense as a rock, it will be no secret that the Hero of the Skies is head over heels in love with you. He basically has heart shaped pupils whenever he looks at you, cartoon heart bubbles magically appear around his head when in your vicinity and his face turns so red you’d think he had a high fever.

Sky is a devout yandere, obsessive in every way, shape and form, and protective to a fault. Even when not around you, you occupy his thoughts and daydreams to the point where it seems like he’s never not thinking about you.

He’s got a masters degree in yearning from Pining University.

And while he hasn’t lost that many people like some of the other mentally unstable chosen ones in the Chain(namely Wild and Legend), the fear of losing them is very real to him. He’s known the blood chilling terror of being a few steps too slow and a few minutes too late with the only thought in his head being “what did I do wrong?”

Following the conclusion of his first and only journey, Sky has come to accept that he made his mistakes and that he must move on in order to grow, but that doesn’t stop him from taking those lessons to heart when falling in love with you.

We’ve seen multiple times throughout the various installments that one of Sky’s favorite hobbies is playing his lyre. It’s a simple pleasure he indulges in whenever they have a moment of peace and the sound never fails to remind him of his home. But he’s found another reason to love it and that is the attention you end up giving him whenever he plays a song.

He isn’t the best musician in the group, but there’s no denying that the simple melodies he strings together are pleasing to the ears, so it’s no wonder you’d take the time to sit down, listen, and compliment him.

Sky doesn’t see it like that, though.

In his deluded, love hazy mind, all that registers is that you’re there giving him your attention and your praise; two things worth more than gold in his eyes. He’s like a drug addict who just got hit with another dosage. If he had a tail he’d be wagging it so hard it would thump against the log he’s sitting on, so he better consider himself lucky that Twilight is the dog of the group.

Though, if would please you, he’d willingly let you collar and leash him. Tell him to sit and roll over, he’ll do it on command without any shame whatsoever. He’ll even walk around on all fours if you want!-

Anyways-

THIS! 👏 MF! 👏 STEALS! 👏 FROM! 👏 YOU! 👏

I mean, technically it isn’t for long, he won’t permanently take something that belongs to you without ever giving it back(in secret so you never find out it was him), but he WILL swipe something of yours from time to time. Most commonly he’ll take a tunic or shirt from you, something you won’t immediately notice is gone.

When he has a moment of privacy, he’ll take out his little treasure and press it against his face, taking in a deeeeeep breath, and sighing lovingly. He’s got it bad for you and he knows it. If he could he’d use your tunic as a pillowcase whenever he went to sleep, but there’s no way he wouldn’t get caught.

Despite all this sugary sweetness, Sky isn’t solely a soft and gentle boy. If he is provoked, or if you’re being bothered, Sky doesn’t hesitate to step up and glare down the nuisance, all the while keeping a calm smile stretched across his face. This is where his surprisingly deep voice comes in handy, people aren’t expecting a voice like his to come from such a soft face.

Out of all the members of the Chain, I actually think that Sky would be one of the most patient when it comes to people trying to mess with them or you respectively; he’s dealt with Groose’s bullying for a few years, I think he’s a natural at letting nasty comment slide right off him like water off a duck’s back.

However, even then his patience is dangerously thin regarding people. If provoked he won’t hesitate to begin plotting the fool’s demise, whether it be a swift cut to the jugular or a slow, agonizing demise is up to the person in question.

And finally, just a hint, do not try to run from him, it won’t work.

If Fi’s ability to dowse objects and seek them out is based on Sky’s own desire to find them, then if you were to try and run away, he’d be able to track you right down to the exact spot you’re standing in. Because there is nothing and no one alive that Sky wants and needs more than you.

Hide in the woods, in a cave, in a dungeon, in a mountain, it doesn’t matter. He will hunt you down, find you, and drag you back home in his loving, suffocating embrace.

[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.”

[king-candybug-backup]

Hi, I was wondering something. Can you maybe give me a quick summary of what your fic ‘Kill Switch’ is all about? And where I can read it? :)

Heck yeah, totally!!! :D So to sum it up (somewhat) briefly, Vanellope finds out that King Candy is still alive because he’s been so deeply entangled in Sugar Rush’s code for so many years that the game thinks he belongs there now, and so has been respawning him when he dies. However, it hasn’t been respawning him properly, so he stays horribly injured and in Cy-bug form, trapped in Diet Cola Mountain and all that jazz. Vanellope, though still VERY much mistrustful of him of course, figures that leaving him to be basically tortured in a painful death/respawn cycle for however long is kinda, like… way too cruel for her liking, so she decides to help him out and use heal kits to patch him up, but like, slowly, so that she can figure out how to deal with this whole “murderous a-hole still alive and kicking” situation. 😂 Candybug starts off sorta playing along with her because she’s the only ticket he has to get out of this stupid mountain lol

Unfortunately for them, it’s discovered that another unplugged villain (Sinistar) had heard through arcade gossip about the whole ordeal with the Cy-bug infestation of Sugar Rush and the monstrosity Turbo turned into when eaten by one, so he intentionally sneaks into Hero’s Duty and gets himself eaten by a Cy-bug to become a hybrid as well, and starts game-jumping all over the place to eat weapons and characters for more power-ups. At that point, things start snowballing out of control with Sinistar rampaging all over the place, and so Vanellope, Candybug, Ralph, Felix, and Calhoun are all basically forced to team up because if they don’t work together on this, Sinistar will 100% without a doubt kill all of them, lmao. So it’s basically just a lot of Candybug being a major asshole while everybody else has to very reluctantly put up with it because he’s literally the only person who can 1v1 Sinistar in emergency situations, also meanwhile Vanellope is trying VERY hard to figure him out and reign in his assholery as much as she can, lmao (and somewhat succeeding in very small areas, but, y’know, it’s Turbo. He’s a massive bitch who is very unwilling to change. 😂) Also he’s been going through a bit of an ongoing mental health crisis/depression spiral the whole time due to his world constantly falling apart around him SO THAT’S BEEN FUN

(Sorry if this explanation isn’t very good, I was trying not to make it super long while also still covering most of the main stuff, lol. It’s readable here on AO3!)

(Tfw you have to rely on a mentally unstable Cy-bug that hates you and tried to kill you multiple times to stop a DIFFERENT Cy-bug from eating you for your glitching powers so that the arcade doesn’t get completely destroyed ← Kill Switch in a nutshell lol)

[celestialtarot11]

How is this retrograde affecting you? 🤍🪽

Hi friends! I know its been a while since I last posted. I have been so busy with settling back at university and juggling my schedule. I do hope to be more consistent moving forward. Thank you all for your patience and support ❤️‍🩹🪽 I hope you enjoy this reading!

Pile 1: Hi there pile 1! Welcome to your reading! 🤍 For you I received the knight of pentacles and king of cups. For a long time you guys have been working on your emotional intimacy with yourself & working on any avoidant tendencies. I think you guys have the tendency to be harsh on yourself and set limitations, but this mercury retrograde has been teaching you to soften up. To become more encompassing of how you really feel and think. I think for a while you have been in a state of honing your individuality, emotions, and awareness of self. And i think your healing is beginning to show, not necessarily for external factors like people and such, but for yourself. I feel like you know its not about other people now, and its okay to give back to yourself what you gave out. You feel more at ease and comfortable now. And you know what stability you need and want, even if others didnt deliver or give that to you. You’re creating your own space and sanctuary to feel calm and good within yourself. I will say this retrograde maybe didn’t feel like a breakdown, but it felt more like character building in the sense that it’s rejuvenating. You’ve had to reevaluate your plans and goals to better help yourself 🥰 Thank you so much for being here pile 1’s! Please like comment and reblog to help this blog 🥹🪽🤍 have a great one!

Pile 2: Hi there pile 2’s! Please take a cup of tea or something to relax :,( For you I received the 10 of wands and 9 of pentacles. I feel you guys have been stressed out during this retrograde. I feel you’ve had a lot of burdens, maybe it was financial. I heard it was a wreck, so maybe some of you had to start over financially, or regain your footing after a loss. If not, it could be related to status. Maybe there were lots of rumors or gossip about you and I feel you’ve been defending yourself nonstop. I feel that this retrograde is showing you how to come back to your inner world of rest and trust, regardless of what the world might say or do. I also feel its showing you the way home to your heart, but in a stable way. If you’ve always felt unstable emotionally in your home life, spirit wants you to build a home first internally then expand on it in real life. Its very possible some of you are trying to move out and get an apartment, and I feel spirit is saying to remind yourself you are worthy of a safe space and calm at this time. You are worthy of a space of your own. If some of you are into manifesting, you can also manifest and reevaluate what you want, regardless of the retrograde. Its there to help us think clearly. I also feel this retrograde is about mental rest too, so come back to your meditation rituals or whatever you do to calm yourself 🤍🪽 Come back home to yourself. Thank you pile 2’s! Please like support and reblog to help this blog grow 🥺🤍 have a good one!

Pile 3: Wow! Welcome pile 3! For you I received 9 of swords reversed and ace of wands! Talkin about passion over here, I love it. I feel like you guys are in a state of releasing unashamedly and I love the energy. Its like “take it, it no longer serves me and I feel good about saying no” and I feel thats what this retrograde has taught you! How to say no to energy you don’t need or like. I also feel you guys have been stuck in a period of doubt, anxiety, self sabotage. And now you are seeing clearly, you’re seeing that you really don’t need to continue this anymore as it isn’t benefitting you. And this retrograde is bringing in fresh, passionate energy for you internally so you can put that out externally! Maybe its quitting that job. Finding a new one. Maybe its going on that vacation, maybe its decluttering your home! Either way I feel you guys are definitely not waiting around anymore to love yourself and spirit is commending you. Its also 11:11 as I type this 🥺 so nice. Your wishes are in the state of evolving and coming true! Keep your mentality and allow it to grow and you’ll see your manifestations will come to you. Its less about taking and more so about rightfully creating the life you deserve to live. I love to see it pile 3! Thank you so much for being here and I hope this reading got you clarity! Please like and support to help this blog continue growing 🤍🪽 have a great one!

Thanks so much everyone! I could just feel the energy through me as I channeled lol. I really hope yall found clarity you need! 🤍🪽

Paid readings 🤍

[theflagscene]

I find this scene in episode six very interesting, it was very minimal but I think it said kind of a lot.

Yai is doing his damndest to convince Tharn to take a chance on a relationship with Phaya, so of course good ole doctor snakey shows up. Only he doesn’t spare a passing glance at Yai and it seems like Yai doesn’t realize the other man is there, even after another person has drawn him away from Tharn and his brooding stare.

The only time Yai has ever even acknowledged the existence of Chalothon was to Phaya in episode three, to reassure him that Tharn hadn’t just been snatched away from him by some random stranger. And that’s it, that’s all Yai has to say about that. He says that they’ve known Chalothon since they were kids, okay, so let’s break that down.

One can assume that the night Phaya drowned when they were kids, the third boy was Chalothon, right? He lures them away to the Naga festival with firecrackers and food, yet when Phaya is in fact being called into the water, sees the Naga’s green eyes and starts to drown, the third boy isn’t with Tharn and Yai. The next time you see Tharn, he’s just with Yai and the third boy, who we’re just going to assume is Chalothon, isn’t there with them. He shows back up with sweets for both boys - none for himself - after Phaya is already dying in the river.

When Tharn claims to have gotten a sign about a boy drowning, Yai laughs at him and the third (Chalothon) is quick to agree and attempts to drag the two away. That is until they hear Phaya’s auntie crying for help, which is when both Tharn and Yai take off, Chalothon following close behind. He’s playing the long con, this is their 4th incarnation (sorry for the spoilers if you didn’t know that) Which means snakey boy has failed to get Tharn to return with him to the Naga kingdom three times already, not including the first time he lost them to King Garuda. He has learned, he knows he can’t push, he needs to bide his time, but he also has to steer clear of Luangpor. Guess who is never seen anywhere near the all knowing monk? Yeah, the third boy, the other witness and sort of hero that ‘helped’ save Phaya that night. He doesn’t show up when Tharn, Yai, Phaya and their aunties speak with the revered monk the next day.

I think that Chalothon is using some witchery to insert himself into the good graces of the people in Tharn’s life when needed, but otherwise they don’t actually realize he’s there. Like he’s purposely blocking Yai from interacting with him because Yai is that annoying older brother who would tell Tharn; dude that doctor guy is sus as hell!

To Yai he’s made a memory of himself like an old childhood friend, but otherwise Yai is none the wiser to him. He already has Tharn’s trust implicitly, not only as his long time friend but as a medical professional. Chalothon has been manipulating and gaslighting Tharn for - one can assume - most of his adult life. Using mental health and basically the fear of being insane to keep Tharn controlled, and it was going so well too, until Phaya showed back up in his life.

Hot-headed, knuckled brain Phaya who’s both bark and bite. He already has his memories as King Garuda trickling back in, probably faster than Chalothon expected. And it quickly became clear that while Chalothon might have been able to cause descension in the ranks using simple medical jargon and the fear of being labeled as mentally unstable, Phaya and Tharn reconnecting has already awoken their powers, not to mention that their memories are returning as lightning speed. Think in episode five when Phaya grabs Chalothon’s shoulder and burns him, he just does it instinctually, without even trying. Not only that, but the mark left behind is in the shape of talons. Phaya is becoming too strong and Yai is pushing Tharn closer toward him, even offering himself up as protection, sacrifice, one might say.

Chalothon has no need for Yai anymore, subtly is no longer the name of the game. And while he might be willing to wait yet another lifetime to try again, that doesn’t mean Chalothon wants to. But he has made it clear that he will kill Tharn and start all over if his hand is forced and since Yai is firmly committed to keeping Phaya and Tharn together, well… I’m thinking he might have just moved himself higher up ole doctor snakey’s list of very expendable people.



[offbrandkyoya]

60 scara the widower

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Scaramouche is very lonely. He’s never felt so empty before. He misses you so much, like he’ll ever admit that. Practices were okay. It made him want to gauge his eyes out but anything for his fans.

Scaramouche turns off the music and sits on the floor while taking a sip of water. He’s sweating like crazy and he feels his head spiral. The boys trained separately for 3 hours and the rest is practicing together. Currently, Scaramouche is separated from the others. He kind of missed the loud noises.

He closes his water bottle before staring at the ceiling. He wanted to call you, see how you were doing but his phone got taken away. He wouldn’t get it back till the end of the day which was at night. He didn’t like the idea calling you at night since he cares about your health. Kind of hypocritical since he didn’t care much about his own.

Scaramouche pulls his knees up and rests his chin. “I miss yn…” He mumbled. He’s all alone so he didn’t care about speaking out loud. It’s just him and his thoughts. “Why did I sign up for this if it meant id be away from them?” He sighs before standing up. “I hope they’re okay.” He knows that people at your campus don’t like you at all and he can’t help but worry. You have Thoma and now…

“Fuck.” He says, remembering he’s keeping a secret from you. Scaramouche runs his fingers through his hair. He doesn’t like the idea of not telling you about Albedo and Kaeya. Obviously, it was none of your business to know their relationship but he fears something will happen to your friendship. You get along well with Albedo that he can’t help but think, if Kaeya spills the truth, Albedo would no longer want to be associated with you.

Not only him but Thoma as well. The blonde has some kind of relationship with Diluc and that can also ruin everything. Scaramouche just wants to make sure that you don’t only have him or 5WIRL. He growls, “I’m not their mom.” His face softens, “Still, I love-“ The door opens and enters his manager.

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I interrupting?” He hated her guts. Getting special treatment is kind of annoying. Yet, he doesn’t want to cause any problems so he acts oblivious. “No, I was just relaxing.” “I see but don’t relax too much.” Scaramouche nods and his manager closes the door, walking closer to him. “Listen, Scaramouche.” She rubs her hands.

“About that concert where you…had a reaction…” Scaramouche raises a brow but says nothing. “I need you to be focused. It’s not that I’m angry at you. I’m just concerned. You need to learn how to control your emotions. We don’t want you to look bad in front of everyone.” Scaramouche felt his insides boil. How was he supposed to know his mom was gonna show up that night? He hasn’t seen that woman in years.

“Okay.” Was all he said and she smiles. “Good. Gosh, you’re a much better listener than the rest. Out of all of them you have the most potential considering-“ She paused. “Considering?” He repeats. Her smile falters but continues, “Nothing. You’re just better. So much better that, you can be the new leader.” His eyes widen and she laughs. “Just a suggestion.” “What about Venti?”

Suddenly, she frowns. “He’ll leave. He’s been here long enough and Zhongli isn’t easy to beat. I guess his time has run out. He’s pretty much a nuisance and does nothing but mistakes. Honestly, he should’ve given up long ago.” Scaramouche doesn’t say anything and she smiles again. “Well enough of that. Continue doing what you’re doing.”

She walks to the door but turns back around. “Oh right, I’ve been meaning to tell you; take off that ring. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.” Then she left. Scaramouche brings his hand up to look at the ring. “Like hell I’m taking this off.”

Scaramouche felt sour after hearing all that. Him? The new leader? He scoffs at the thought. “As if.” He’s pretty unstable, mentally and emotionally, so he wouldn’t be right for the job. Plus, Ventis a good leader. He’s confused on his relationship with Zhongli so he can’t really say much on that. Scaramouche heads to the boombox and turns the music back on to continue practicing.

- I watched Barbie

- I also started watching legend of korra after avoiding it for so long

- I love mako

- 🩷

🏷️ @sakiimeo @coquettemaiden @rmiyuki @kur44pika @theblueblub @jxxji0309 @dreamsofminnie @ohmyfinggod @redactedhimbo @kunisbeloved @akagism2 @sketcheeee @thefandomcrow @beriiov @thenightsflower @yukiipc @scaraapologist @scarletttcroww @samyayaya @crucnhice @monaypo1 @feiherp @myaaones @warcelia @hangecanweholdhands @yuminako @valiryyz @screechingxiaolover @tiddieshakeshownu @ilovechuuyaa @d4y-dr3am3r @dazaisfavgf @swivy123 @ganyusbrideee @sagegreenthinks @the-left-glove @wonderland-fan @kylexzz @kaoyamamegami @whycantscarabereal @rvoulte @eunchaeluvr @lxkeeeee @silvermah @baby-bread-in @yelleloww @magica-ren @itzblazekun @im-inlovewithy0u @featuredtofu @ynverse @anastaxiah

[howlsofbloodhounds]

I found something that reminded me of Delta but I'm too shy to come off of anon, so I'll be translating the image to text.

[ID: "Hello character who is desperate to be a good person; I want to play a game. In front of you is the one person you will never be able to save. You have the rest of your life to make peace with this. There are no defined repercussions if you fail, but we both know you're going to attempt to win regardless. Your time starts now."]

Thoughts?

I had two. One, Color and Epic. Two, Ultratale Frisk.

I feel the Color one should be clear. The man is chasing after someone who dangerous and unstable, because Color simply can’t stand to sit around and do nothing when someone who is hurting has asked him for help.

This puts Color’s life in danger, his mental health, his safety. Potentially anyone Color is connected to if Nightmare is that petty to want revenge, which in turn fucks up Color’s mental health more and encourages him to keep moving on.

Of course, the trauma of being forgotten and trapped in the Void for who knows how long greatly effected Color’s issues with feeling trapped and always needing to stay on the move, but the need to chase after Killer and also avoid drawing Nightmare’s potential attention to anyone else close to Color is another motivation.

Delta gets first hand exposure to how everything with Killer and Nightmare affects Color. He’s very likely the one who tries to patch up Color’s injuries because Color doesn’t want to do it himself, he’s the one who calms Color down from panic attacks, nightmares, flashbacks, and meltdowns when Killer isn’t there to try.

He’s the one who sees the fear in Color’s eye when, after finally saving Killer, even losing sight of the other guy causes Color to tremble and overthink. Delta’s the one who hears about all the awful things Color had to watch be done to Killer, and he’s the one who hears Color’s fears that Killer will forget him one day.

Color isn’t often like this, he’s usually more laid back even if more prone to being grumpy. But Delta sees it all and tries his absolute best to support his friend when he’s struggling so much, and most days Delta can’t help but try to convince Color to stop. Chasing after Killer is killing him slowly, and it hurts Delta watch him deteriorate before his eyes.

(I’m also of the belief that being a witness to this type of stuff from both Epic and Color is precisely one of the reasons why the guy has issues with both Killer and Cross at first, outside of the whole crimes and murder. They hurt his friends and made him powerless to do anything but watch and try to convince them to care about themselves even half as much as they do about others.

Of course, this is mostly a subconscious thing Delta probably refuses to acknowledge or admit to himself at first because he’s aware that Cross and Killer weren’t doing it intentionally, but still. Emotions and trauma aren’t logical.)

Two, Ultratale Frisk. Delta seems to have taken it as a very deep personal failure that he failed to stop Frisk from having their soul absorbed, and he seems to think that’s precisely why everyone in his AU—the entire Underground—died. Because he was too lazy and sat on the sidelines, doing nothing but watching.

And dreaming about Toriel from Beta’s memories makes it so much worse—because of the promise he made to protect Frisk. Delta has grown to care for Beta himself, from Beta’s memories he can see just how much Toriel cared for both Beta and Frisk and therefore likely every other fallen child. How the grief and loss, over and over, would’ve impacted his friend, and how he was careless to make that promise to protect Frisk.

He looks at Beta, all their innocence and youth, and sees Frisk; what he failed to protect. What the entire Underground failed to protect, even. The children. The future.

Out of Frisk and Color/Epic, I think the only one he’ll ever be able to make peace with being unable to save is Frisk. Not only because it has already happened and he needs to move on, for his own kid now, for Toriel’s memory as well, because this is definitely what Papyrus would want for him—but because Frisk is a lesson—a reminder. To not let any of the other children be unprotected like that again, to try and protect them and by extension the Underground in other AUs.

He’d love to be able to protect Frisk like he should’ve, like he said he would, but he didn’t. It hurts, but he didn’t. He will do better. If he had Frisk in front of him again, he’d probably ruffle their hair or pat their head—make one of his rare jokes again, before genuinely apologizing for failing them.

And Frisk would probably smile and give him a tight hug, forgiveness before they have to go for good this time. Maybe they’d say hello to Beta, and approve of Delta’s work of trying to protect AUs and take care of Beta—but they’d remind him to not join them and the rest of the Underground. Papyrus misses him, too, but he’d better not see Sans too soon.

(Of course, the prompt is can Sans accept that he can never save Frisk no matter how badly he wants to; not can Sans realize that he never could’ve realistically protected Frisk in the first place. He’s gonna need a therapist to unpack that one.)

As for Epic and Color, these are the two he refuses to accept that he can’t save—even if only from themselves. In his eyes, they’re good, strong people—they’ve been through far too much to pass on from life with anything but a big smile and no regrets, happy.

(Of course, though. Does he realize how happy Epic would be to simply die?)

So I think he already experiences having Color and Epic in front of him everyday, trying to support them and help them and refusing to accept the possibility that he can’t.

[heeheesang]

ʂƚɾαɳɠҽɾ ∂αɳɠҽɾ ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

four -> yn's past. (my apologies for the long chapter🥹)

“yn! that’s literally so funny what—“ byul, elle and i were cut off from laughing as we accidentally bumped into o ur seniors. “oh, sorry.” elle apologised as the three of us bowed as an apology for bumping into them. i looked up to see the three people i least expected to see, jay, ni-ki and jungwon.

“oh, please don’t worry about it.” jay reassured us as elle’s smile widened, meeting eyes with the older male as we bowed again. “aren’t you three auditioning for the new hybe survival show..? if i’m not wrong, you’re kim wonbyul.. kim elle..? and you’re yoon yn.” jay asked when the air became thicker.

“ah yes… we’re happy to meet you..?” i said, trying to form words since we were still new to bumping into idols and all. “was that a question or were you actually forming a sentence?” riki chuckled as i rolled my eyes playfully, “let her off riks, she’s new to this. well, we have to get going but it was nice meeting you.” jungwon said as he stared directly into my eyes.

what? does he wanna kiss me or something what’s with the attitude change?

i scoffed softly as i made an excuse, “sorry i have to attend to this.” i said rolling my eyes as i looked directly at jungwon. maybe i shouldn’t have done that, maybe i should’ve. that’s nothing compared to what he did to me in high school. he should’ve learnt his lesson by now, right?

“yoon yn. YOON YN!” elle yelled back for me as tears dropped down my cheeks, turnimg around as i faced her. “what.. elle. what is it? i’m sorry for acting up but.. i’m sorry go on with the dance practice without me, i’ll just see you next episode.” i said as i smiled through my tears, elle was about to open her mouth again but i just went up to her and hugged her, “i’m fine don’t worry about me.”

i walked past the walkways and got to a dark spot where i always went to if i needed to release my thoughts into space. i was wearing a grey tank with a beanie and some sweatpants as the cold wind brushed my hair, fuck i should’ve brought a jacket. i sighed and took out a stick, lighting it up as i inhaled a puff and let the smoke disperse in the air.

did i deserve that in high school? maybe it was a wake up call… but still, jungwon didn’t start a ‘call yn a slut’ chain, some stupid juniors did. maybe he isn’t all bad, am i thinking too much? jeonghan would hate me if i ever forgave jungwon this quick. jungwon didn’t really hurt me, just mentally and emotionally. again, it’s my fault for pushing him to be in a relationship with me… i knew he was emotionally unready or unstable a few weeks into our relationship so why didn’t he say anything?

“you know… sometimes it’s good to let your members know where you go. and it’s best to let your brother know where you went,” a familiar voice struck in my head as i snapped out of my thoughts, taking another puff of the tobacco flavoured stick as he sighs, “look yn… what i did back then—“

“please. no.” i cut him off as he pointed to the seat next to mine, i nodded and made a big space between us as i took yet another puff. “your friends and your brother are worried. they started coming after me because you talked about me..?” jungwon admitted as he sighed deeply and i nodded, “sorry about them.”

up til now, i hadn’t spared him a single glance. “yn, can we talk?” jungwon asked as he faced me, “we are talking.” i said, before he took my stick and threw it on the floor and used his foot to stop the fire from burning, turning me slowly to face him.

“please?” he said in a soft voice that i almost melted at, i nodded my head.

“i was stupid to say that you cheated, you obviously didn’t and i was at fault. i wasn’t very responsible as a boyfriend and i was seen with multiple girls and i said i had no time for our dates. i’ll be honest, i was jealous of seeing you spend more time with wonwoo than me.. so i made my schedule packed with tutees… i realised how stupid i was to think that i was in the right to tell everyone you chested and those juniors… called you names… because of me.” he took a deep breath to continue but i out my finger to his lips and shook my head with a deep sigh.

“look jungwon. i’m leaving that in the past, i’m happy, i’m glad you realised what you did wrong. i’ve tried everyway to avoid you but i guess the world just isn’t on my side. if we’re going to be label mates then, hello i’m yoon yn. what’s your name?” i said as i offered my hand, “yang jungwon, nice to meet you yn.”

“nice to meet you too asshat.”

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taglist! @rosas-in-the-garden @ilikekpop-c @aloloveswonie @jwonistic @drunkhee @h4918ymc @huieee @xiaoderrrr @ilovejungwonandhaechan @yourssincerely-mimi @n1k1mura @nnana2

hhs’ notes! double update!! omg the amount of support on this smau is insane like actually insane i love you all so much especially my readers from my last smau🥹🫶🏻 jungwon and yn making progress..! how do we feel? honetsly so much mixed feelings right now but like… better chapters to come that will cure our curiousity😭 as always, thank you for reading and enjoying this chapter, i’ll see you on the next chapter! i love you all so much mwah mwah mwah🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻

[showtoonzfan]

Okay,guys. What do you think of fionapollos recent video?

Ganna be straight to the point, I didn’t like it. This is ganna be a long post so if y’all love reading, feel free to but I’m warning y’all now. Of course, what I’m going to say are my opinions only. This is coming from a person who actually follows Fionapollos, I love listening to her art commentary vids and I hope she keeps up the good work! But for this recent video specifically? I don’t think it was good. Not to say that Fionapollos didn’t handle this well for the most part, she’s always respectful and open minded and I’m glad for that, but the structure and overall execution of the video was poorly handled.

Outside of being an inspiring animator and a help to spread awareness of how incredible indie animation is, I have no respect for Vivziepop, but that doesn’t mean I want to be biased or one sided. There were only two sections of this video I agreed with, it’s in three segments. The first segment was about Erin Frost and the evidence they had provided, and like me and some have been saying, the evidence just wasn’t strong enough to indicate a really toxic environment, especially since what Erin had provided was screenshots of her being on good terms with Jane and Sam. I never really saw an issue with Jane deciding to move the assignment to someone else since Erin was struggling, because like Fionapollos said, people in this business just want to get stuff done and if someone can’t do it, they have to take measures where someone else can.

Now maybe this wasn’t mentioned because there isn’t really evidence to support it, (it’s just a statement) but we do know that according to Ashley Nicholas, Viv had talked behind Erin’s back, calling her too mentally unstable to work. I personally believe that there was a lot of gossip provided by Viv and/or Jane and Sam regarding Erin, they’ve all shown to be shady before so I just wouldn’t be surprised if this were true, however let’s move on. Other parts of the video I agree on were Fionapollos simply just being fair. She stated that the fake document is damaging to indie companies and studios, and how her audience has the right to feel the way they feel, but outside of that there wasn’t anything specific that I agreed on outside of the Erin stuff. Her closing thoughts were nice as usual, but I’ll move on to the actual issues I had with the video.

If I had to speak in general, I feel like Fionapollos just didn’t have enough evidence, cause this video is basically a rehash of what her last one was, where she didn’t have enough evidence back then, only this time in her personal opinion, Viv is just a flawed non-perfect person who makes mistakes and needs to stop being put up on a pedestal and idolized as someone who is perfect….something I drastically disagree with but I’ll get into more of that later. When I say that she doesn’t have enough evidence, what I mean is that the stuff that she looked at is only the FROSTING of the iceberg pointing to Viv being a narcissist who mistreats her employees. Like I said there’s only three sections, and the only section where she actually looks at evidence against Spindle is Erin’s section and the document, something that was obviously fake and I’ve already shared how I dislike it when people pay more attention to the fake/troll side of things rather than the real actual evidence. I was shocked/bothered to see that KenDraws’s document isn’t even mentioned here, since the topic of this vid is how Viv/Spindle treats her employees and that document could have been a MASSIVE factor in evidence pointing towards the mistreatment being legit in some areas. Instead, the majority of this vid is very empty and lacks something that you could make a case out of. Of course she was going to go with the “I just think Vivziepop is flawed”- route, because she doesn’t have the same knowledge of evidence and drama that Viv has been through, wether that be in the past few months or past 2 years. It’s just clear that she so far has only seen a few bits and pieces of evidence but not the mass amount pointing to Viv being a problematic childish person. And I get it, she’s not like others where she constantly follows every single move Viv makes or constantly checks her status online, but if you’re going to make a video like this, you should be more informed.

The middle part of the video is the worst. It’s dedicated to talking about the fake document and AnimationCallout, (which this section of the video doesn’t do much, it’s just panting Spindle in a victimizing light) and she also dismisses the transphobic allegations by saying it was included in the false document so it makes her question if that is true as well (despite the fact that the screenshot of Viv’s discord messages had been floating around awhile before the document). The biggest part that made me roll my eyes is where she mentions Viv’s old weird art, indicating that she assumes people spite her all because of old shit she did years and years ago, which if you know me is another thing I hate the people bring up regarding Viv’s controversies. Her old art is irrelevant. This entire middle section felt irrelevant because the topic is about Spindle mistreating their employees so I don’t know why she felt the need to bring that up as well as how fake documents affect animation studios but that’s just me.

There’s also things that weren’t mentioned that bother me. Like I said KenDraws document wasn’t mentioned, but there’s more. The most obvious is that Erin ain’t the only member who left Spindle. For a video about Spindlehorse mistreating their employees, there’s no mention of anyone else, or people who claimed to be mistreated. KenDraws, Ashley Nicholas, Salem Squidder, Nicolas Jordan, Jane Walker, the list goes on. This is evidence that there’s definitely more going than just “Viv is flawed”. You can only use that excuse so long, as more and more people who were close or her or worked on her stuff left.

I also feel like it’s a glaring issue that Spindlehorse/Viv never acknowledge their mistakes or even confront their controversies. Name one time Spindle came out and made an official statement on the allegations or drama. Zero. They always let the fire burn, hide behind the fanbase, and wait for the waters to cool before moving on and pretending nothing ever happened, only speaking up if someone dare call Viv problematic. They silence any ex member and never take accountability, and it’s something the public has yet to acknowledge, no one ever acknowledges this shit and I’m so tired of it. This is why I never agree with anyone who tries to paint them in a victimizing light filled with people who are “just trying to get by” when there’s no evidence that leaves me to believe that’s true, especially when they’re too cowardly to even confront something or make a fucking statement. Doesn’t help that they always ignore allegations against Viv or just shut the other side down by simply saying “she was nice to me end of story”. How are we supposed to believe that these people are genuine who don’t want to hurt anyone if they aren’t saying anything? How are we supposed to believe Viv is just an imperfect person if she NEVER acknowledges her faults and keeps making the same mistakes over and over again?

I truly believe that Fionapollos had good intentions, but I’m really tired of folks just dismissing Viv or the shady stuff that’s been going on at spindle with just “they’re imperfect stop putting them up on a pedestal”. Like I said there’s plenty of evidence pointing to the people at Spindle lacking self awareness and Viv being an abuser who blacklists people and talks behind other’s backs, so this vid just didn’t do any justice. She just doesn’t know the half of it. Sorry.

[urvirtualdoll]

since the situation is kinda fucked, obviously we all know how we are believing him instead of the other victims so, time to not keep a promise for the first time and share some knowledge.

it’s probably gonna be quite long so good luck with that.

first off basic thing to consider : no matter why you are using the word “yandere” and be on this side of tumblr, yandere is at first and mostly a word only there to describe a person not able to control their obsession and their behavior towards it. it’s a cooping word for A LOT of mentally ill persons, especially bpd persons. so don’t forget that atp the vast majority of people here are in fact ill, they can’t control their obsession, the emotions linked to it etc. in fact bc of that they are the perfect target when you want someone to obsess over you all that shit. to be clear : you can love obsession, you can be obsessive, all that, it doesn’t change the fact that you don’t know how it is to actually be ill.

now that it’s cleared up, let’s talk about the danger in our own community. it’s well known for more than 6months right now that there is some people on the yan side who are actually using mentally unstable people to obtain what they want. im gonna be very clear : obsession, devotion, everything, bc they love that, idealized that even. fetishized maybe tbh. idk. i will not assume anything just in case. the problem is that when those persons are getting tired or attracted by the new little not popular acc who will make the perfect new toy : they are actually ruining you like you are nothing. it’s not only very dangerous because we are again talking abt mostly bpd persons you are abandoning so literally triggering their illness, but also manipulative and shitty and showing in facts that you are not like us. you are not real. and it’s a danger for us in our community. we don’t need that, people are struggling enough.

now the pattern : it’s always the same. i can describe it by heart and that’s the worst part, but it’s for another post with actual evidences and shit. at least no one will be able to say they weren’t warned. i didnt listen when you all warned me (shoot out to Roxie and Fawn especially) but you were right. he has changed a little bit the way of doing it because it is focused on one person to be calling out again, but he is using the same pattern so shows AGAIN that he isn’t really meaning. he is actually copy and pasting his wants/fantasies on a person like i already have the proof that he actually used our allegedly plan for our future to use it talking about a new person.

because yes, that’s why im doing that, even if im bombed to fucked my tumblr again, i removed everything before bc he apologized and I wanted to believe that he wasn’t a piece of shit anymore but.. he proved that he still is and he is getting way better at manipulating. he is actually doing that to a girl and I promised myself i will not allow that. i tried to reach out to her but he has manipulated her too much already so she blocked me. dnt get me wrong i understand, she is ill, she is experiencing that for the first time of her life probably and she is new on this yan side : exactly what i was months ago when i didn’t listen. its not on a her, i will actually not named her. but i hope that she will go away soon enough to not experienced what I experienced or any of you but im sure it will not be like that. no matter what im gonna try.

thatonedeadboi is very good to make himself looks like the poor guy not understanding what is happening and all that shit. actually ? he never even wanted to apologized, i schooled him for hours lmao regarding the situation before his whole “i regret” phase. he is posing as a devoted, possessive, stalker and shit. first off stalker ? lmao not at all, i can tell yall. devoted and possessive ? he was copy pasting lines to at least 5 persons at the same times saying he was obsessed and shit, literally proving himself to not be like us lmao. condoning everything irl and being an honest man and all that ? he literally promised me so many things he never kept, also ignored my illnesses and abandoned me knowing the medical consequences of it : he wants to be a psychiatric nurse. wake up. it’s dangerous as hell. i also tried to kill myself when he dumped me out of nowhere two hours after saying he was loving me and that i was the love of his life and blocked me from everywhere : yes again showing he is not a real mentally ill obsessive person who can’t control their things and shit but just a basic cis guy using mentally ill people to feel things before jumping to another over and over.

so please, be careful. his fucking tumblr and instagram and Facebook should be terminated because he is using that (fb before, a little instagram before, mostly tumblr for months) to find new victims and since he isn’t learning, guess it’s my job bc im the only one with all those proofs, to warn you all and to try to make sure that guy will seek help to not be like that anymore, change his carrier choice bc it’s a fucking danger, and leave mentally ill people alone please.

last thing : sexually he is dangerous as well. i will not shut my mouth about that. he is pretending to be grossed out by sexual assault and shit, but he has done some pretty shitty stuff with me that i can prove. like : he actually dumped me, started to talk to that girl but told me he wanted to try again with me and made sexual comments about me, I said i will not do anything without being official again and not matter that the next morning he talked abt it again saying he was hard because of me. i have the proof of that and to be clear : he is aware that i was rapped multiple times. that i was used by my ex boyfriend, that im deeply traumatized regarding that topic but no matter he was already trying to have a thing with that girl he actually on the side said stuff while calling me. dangerous behavior again.

i’ve always said im not a liar, i hurted him before bc of my behavior bc im a human and i have no problem to acknowledge that, but thatonedeadboi is actually dangerous for people with certain mental illnesses. u can be mentally ill it doesnt forbid you to be a piece of shit boy. for real. it’s not an excuse.

Thank you it was my ted talk lmao. Im gonna try to make shorter post, with proofs : the pattern like what he is saying to you and shit. The danger regarding the sexual shitty behavior. And the fact that he is not safe for mentally ill people. After that you will do whatever you want but at least i would have done my job.

[loststarphounix]

ooooh

what if Gundham was hit with the Despair Disease? and his disease was the Remembering Disease and remembers everything that happened before, from the world-ending tragedy, to remembering his true beloved (Kazuichi)

Actually, aside from the Despair Disease, that’s actually the concept I had for A Remnant Trace, Nevermore (TW VERY dark themes in the story, please be advised) but I do love the idea of Gundham or Kazuichi having the Despair Disease! This time, lets make it a lot less dark and a bit more sad 😈

line break cause long post

First, Mikan would either need a new disease, getting the common cold so she’s stuck in quarantine with the others, or just not have a disease all together. Either way, with her not getting it, Gundham contracts the Remebering Disease, being one of the first to contract DD. And for funnies, let switch up the sick too - replace Hiyoko with Ibuki and Hajime with Nagito. So those with the disease are: Hiyoko, Akane and Hajime, with Fuyuhiko thrown in cause with not 😂

Hiyoko has same Disease Ibuki had, Akane’s stays the same, Hajime has the Lying Disease and Fuyuhiko has a brand new disease! I’m calling it the Damsel Disease! He feels compelled to be in situations where he’ll always be saved; no matter how dangerous or convoluted to the point it was obviously planned, he must be rescued.

So it’s only Nagito, Sonia, Chiaki, Ibuki, Nekomaru, Kazuichi and Mikan the only healthy ones. Gundham, with the Remembering Disease, happens on Day 2 and he hides it extremely well! Since he’s a theater kid and a goth, of course he has shit tons of makeup and foundation! That pale pallor isn’t completely natural after all. And since his body usually runs colder than the average human (this man is anemic send help), his fever isn’t completely obvious. When he awakes on the Motives Second Day with all their memories of Hope’s Peak, he immediately goes in search of Kazuichi.

He’s so overwhelmed by the memories, that it his Devas an embarrassingly long time to get him back to virtual reality. It doesn’t take him long to come to the obvious conclusion that he won’t be believed and called mentally unstable at best, or believed and cause unnecessary chaos and ensuring Junko’s victory at worse. He has to walk to very fine line, but his need to be close to Kazuichi now that he knows what they meant to each other means he has to play this cool.

Sadly, Gundham can’t really play cool. He almost completely ruins it during breakfast when he automatically seeks and sits at Kazuichi’s table. The mechanic is suspicious and butthurt since the day before they finally came to a head about The Sonia Situation ™️ and Ibuki is trying to cheer him up now that both his bros and big sis are sick. He thought the breeder was coming over to rub the whole situation in his face, but feels shame because he somehow knows the other would never do that. How even knows that, he can’t say but it feels right.

And so the two are just staring at Gundham, wondering what he’s doing siting with them and Gundham is starting to sweat bullets because how can he explain this behavior that’ll sound believable. He’s saved from his massive faux pas when Chiaki and Sonia join them, announcing they’ve decided to become a couple before this disease gets to them. And yeah, it hurts Kazuichi a bit, but he’s genuinely happy for Chiaki. And he apologizes to both Sonia and Gundham, which is met with very little fanfare from the former and acceptance for his apology from the later.

When they split up for the day, Gundham almost steps in it again when he instinctively heads out with Kazuichi. But he covers it by stating that he knew the mechanic was making some sort of communication device and will guard against any nefarious actions. And while he’s a little freaked out about the sudden shift in behavior, Kazuichi tries to shrug it off and reluctantly lets the other follow him around. But he’s super anxious because he thinks he’s going to get killed by the breeder because why else would he start following him around?

Meanwhile, Gundham is fighting inner turmoil: Watching Kazuichi work again brings nostalgic energy flowing through the goth. He remembers the long hours of them just each other’s company - Kazuichi working on some project or another while talking to Gundham about plans for dates or friend outings. It makes him long for the other to smile at him; to excitedly present a mini toy car he made just for his Dark Devas to traverse the realm without their Overlord’s assistance. He wants that intimacy again and he finds himself asking stilted questions.

At first, he tries to make it seem as though he’s ensuring Kazuichi is doing exactly what he told them, to then being curious to the steps and parts. Kazuichi, not really being used to people outside of other mechanics being interested in this kind of stuff, is immediately suspicious again - to the point he blurts out he knows the breeder is going to try and kill him. He immediately feels bad when Gundham looks genuinely distraught over the assumption but doesn’t back down, pointing out how just the other day the goth proclaimed he’d rather die than be Kazuichi’s presence willingly.

Now Gundham is faced with an impossible hurdle: does he confess what he knows and be seen a mad prophet fallen by illness as tragic as Delphi? Not mention being confined and unable to protect those he cares for from this accursed world. Or he says nothing, making the other believe the worst of him and create a bigger rift between him and his Sun?

He is saved once again by the universe, when a sick Fuyuhiko runs past, somehow escaping from the hospital. Kazuichi runs after him, determined to keep his friend from harm and the breeder follows. They find Fuyuhiko trying desperately to climb up the motel stairs in hopes of jumping off the highest floor. At one point, Kazuichi almost had him, but the blond eludes him and makes it to the top and does a running leap into the air. Kazuichi screams, tears streaming down his face and Fuyuhiko is caught by Gundham who was still on the ground.

A sick Fuyuhiko is profusely thanking the breeder as the others come onto the scene. They get the blond off the goth and Sonia and Mikan manhandles him back to the hospital. Fuyuhiko makes an off handed comment about Gundham being much warmer than he thought, but it’s dismissed. Kazuichi waits until, the girls are gone to berate the other boy about doing something so stupid. But he does thank him for saving his sick friend and apologizes for assuming he’d try to kill him. Kazuichi figures that, if he wanted, he could’ve let the yakuza heir die and push Kazuichi over the railing too.

Gundham wonders if fate is being fickle or cruel, but he’ll take it. He uses this as a way to get the mechanic to get to spend with him - which he does after finishing the two way communication devices and making sure it was set up. They both find an easy camaraderie, with Gundham using his memories to his advantage and making the other more comfortable with him. What he didn’t know, though, was that Kazuichi kinda found him attractive already but he was trying to make the attraction focus on Sonia which failed lol. So he’s actually more open to the breeder now that she’s not available and they aren’t playing rivals.

They hang out all day and when the night time announcement comes on, they’re a little surprised that it was that late. When they part for the night, Gundham makes sure Kazuichi enters his hotel room safely before going around and ensuring everyone was accounted for inside before going in.

The next day, better progress. Ibuki is a little down because Mikan is spending more time at the hospital, but it’s only a minor thing. She understands why. Kazuichi is more welcoming to him at breakfast than yesterday and they both stick together after they’re recruited forcibly dragged over to help with their sick friends. At some point, they get separated and Gundham is confronted by one of the others (Hajime maybe) and they corner him and basically tell him they know he’s sick and want in on his obvious plan to murder Kazuichi.

Disgusted, Gundham leave them, but he can’t help now noticed how Kazuichi is still a little weary towards him. Little does he know that after Gundham stormed off, they encounter Kazuichi and basically said the same thing, but added how the other seemed to be recruiting people. Kazuichi thinks it’s bullshit, but he can’t help the space he puts between them afterwards.

Gundham comsiders telling Kazuichi the truth, the he remembers everything, but can’t find the right time to do so. Something always comes up and if he’s honest, he kinda likes being the only one with vital information. He knows their tells and can keep them a lot more safe. Also, a little part of him uses his regained knowledge to win back Kazuichi. It’s immoral he knows, but he doesn’t completely see it as wrong when the mechanic genuinely smiles up at him, or holds his hand for a millisecond when he’s excited, or calls him that ridiculous nickname “Gummy Bear”.

It’s selfish he knows, but he feels entitled to the selfishness. Even though as a Remnant he has done many unspeakable acts, does that mean he doesn’t deserve this little slice of heaven when it presents itself?

So he continues to stay silent, being vigilant while also drawing out the mechanic’s hidden attraction for him. And for a split moment, he lets himself forget what was happening around them. Why he was able to remember….

The announcement blaring throughout the island shocks him as does the knowledge of a double murder occurring seemingly the same time. Ibuki and Hiyoko, both slain in the Titty Typhoon. And Mikan had done it. It comes to light during the trial, that Mikan never meant to kill Ibuki - she had in fact was developing a crush on the musician. But Ibuki overstepped; did something that triggered the nurse’s past trauma and when she came to, Ibuki was dead. Hiyoko had witnessed it, but since she had the Obedience Disease, Mikan easily made her kill herself.

Now they were down three friends and Gundham feels immense guilt because he thinks he could’ve prevented all of this by being honest. And Kazuichi and Sonia assume that their unfortunate situation has finally made the breeder crack under pressure and they try to reassure him. He still keeps his secret to himself, even after the fever is gone he still retains the memories, but only very vivid and specific ones. He still tries to use them to keep them all safe.

[kitthepurplepotato]

Shenanigans 15

Chapter 15 / Last Resort

Summary: Katsuki goes through hell. Y/N’s heart breaks into tiny little pieces but does her best to help. Y/N decides she’s done pretending.

Warnings: Harmful thoughts, self-hatred, description of a person struggling with depression, ANGST. (Spoiler: the angst gets resolved by the end of this chapter!)

First Part Master List

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If you guys want background music, listen to this song on loop, the sound of it fits so perfectly in my opinion!

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*a few minutes earlier*

“Bakugou, we had no idea this guy is the same one from my country and I also insisted to come.”

She’s fucking done with me. I fucked up. Again. Why can’t I just fucking say “I was worried” like a normal person? I am a failure.

“Please, tell me what an asshole I am and how much you resent me! Fucking say it, I know you want to!”

Katsuki didn’t mean say that out loud. Why did he say that? Why is he so winded up over this?

Something feels wrong.

Well done, me. I yelled in her face again. All I want is to fucking hug her, why can’t I just reach over and do that? Why do I need to hurt her? Why can’t I be normal?

“Did he get you? Be honest with me.” Y/N asks, her eyes full of worry. Is he quirked? Or is he just mentally unstable as always? He has no idea.

“No he didn’t, calm the fuck down. I’m just freaked out.” He mutters and pushes himself away from the wall.

And now I lied to her face. This is so much more than a fucking freakout. I can’t breathe, Y/N. It hurts so much, everything, all over. Y/N, I think I’m broken. Something is wrong. Really, really wrong.

“You are staying at mine tonight. We don’t know if he’s after you or not.”

Why can’t I be honest? Why can’t I ask for help? Why do I need to be so fucking stubborn all the time? What happened to me that I ended up like this? How is anyone able to be in the same room as me if I treat them like that? I don’t fucking deserve her. I don’t deserve anyone. Their lives would me so much happier without me.

The car ride is silent… but not for Katsuki.

His mind wanders to places he never wanted to go to again.

His time in elementary school. His time in middle school.

Deku. I treated him like shit, I told him to die and I never even thought about the consequences. What a fucking great hero I am, bullying a poor quirkless kid, telling him to die just because I can blow up shit and he can’t.

But this isn’t the worst thing; the worst thing is that I wouldn’t be alive and I wouldn’t be the number two hero if it’s not for him. I don’t deserve to be on the top. I don’t deserve Izuku’s friendship, I never did. I still treat him like shit yet he calls me every week since we graduated and I always tell him to fuck off but he calls anyway.

Why does he even bother? I wanted him to die. I beat him to pulp. I broke him, I stepped on him, I am not a hero, I’m a fucking monster. That’s what I am.

“Shut up.” Katsuki murmurs into the silence.

“I didn’t say anything, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He answers but decides to take a deep breath and force himself to move towards Y/N. “I just…” he suddenly hugs her, his hands holding into the fabric of Y/N’s shirt, strong and desperate and the voices get a bit more quiet; he holds her like a life line and the voices die down completely; there is nothing but the sweet scent of her, the softness of the warm fabric under his palms, it fills the void in the blonde’s heart and he feels whole again. The effect doesn’t last very long as the car arrives in the car park of his flat, forcing the hero out of the embrace.

“Bakugou, if you are affected, you need to tell me.” Y/N looks deep into his eyes while Katsuki plops himself down on the sofa. He hates it.

“What, is it so weird I wanted to hug you after you almost fucking died?”

It is. It’s is fucking weird, because I’m an emotionless, rude fuck and I never show any signs of affection. Of course she’s confused by it. Of course she has no idea about my real feelings if I never show them. She probably thinks I despise her, because all I’ve done since we’ve met was talk shit. And now I’m forcing her to stay at my place, not even asking for her consent. I hugged her without asking as well. All I can do is take, take, take and never give anything back.

“No, sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you with my words. I’m just worried, okay? You look really pale and your eyes aren’t focusing on anything, you just stare into space and it freaks me out.” Y/N looks like she’s about to cry and Katsuki hates it.

“You can leave if you want. I’m fine.”

Please, don’t leave. I can’t do this without you. I’m a fucking weakling. I’ve always has been.

“Are you even listening to me? There is no fucking way I’m leaving you right now. I know you are lying! It might not be the effect of the quirk but something is bothering you. Something is wrong, I can feel it. I want to be with you, even if you will hate me for it tomorrow.” Y/N cries, hiding her face with her arms.

She’s only here because she thinks I’m quirked. If I die, she won’t have a job. This is what I get for being an asshole. No one could love me the way I am.

“I won’t hate you tomorrow. I will never hate you, whatever you do.”

Katsuki can’t listen to the voices anymore; he snuggles close to Y/N, his head resting on her shoulder. He takes a deep breath and the voices die down again; everything will be fine. Deku and Todoroki are out on the field, looking for Anguish right now with the help of Y/N’s tracking. She was able to pinpoint the gang’s location on their way home and sent the details to them so even if he’s quirked, the guy will be behind bars by tomorrow and he’s sure someone will force the guy to null out the effects of his quirk on the people affected by it. He only needs to stay strong for a few more hours. He can do that. With Y/N by his side at least. As Y/N pulls him closer, her fingers slowly caressing his scalp, the hero sighs and hides his face in the crook of her neck, where he can smell Y/N’s perfume the most; he takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. Y/N tugs his hair aggressively, but instead of the pain, he concentrates on the feeling; the true emotions behind the movement, the desperate pull towards her body, the way she shivers when Katsuki’s lips touches her neck and leaves one tiny kiss there as a silent thank you. They don’t say a word for a while after that.

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You know.

You know and you have no idea what to do.

Saying it out loud, telling the blonde he is definitely quirked will only freak him out even more. He will try to run away, he will try to deal with this on his own which he definitely can’t do, seeing how he finds solace in physical touch which he usually despises.

While the blonde is busy taking deep breaths and snuggling closer you send a quick message to Kirishima to let him know what happened and to not call Katsuki for now. It’s really hard to concentrate when every single exhale makes you shiver, but this is not the time to think about this.

Y/N: Problems with Dynamight. Call ME with any info ASAP.

The message is rushed and there’s barely any information in it but hopefully, it will be enough to make Kirishima aware of the situation. You didn’t want to alert the blonde with typing out a long ass message.

Your phone rings right away so you put the phone between you two to listen to it together.

“Hey, Kirishima, you are speaker.” You tell him, just in case.

“Hey guys.” Kirishima’s voice is nothing like his usual, energetic one; he sounds tired and stuffy.

“Are you still crying?” Bakugou barks into the phone, sounding like his old self for the first time since the accident.

“No, I’m just a bit overwhelmed.” He laughs, but it sounds fake even to you.

“Why are you lying to me? Why is everyone lying to me right now? Why can’t you fuckers be honest with me? Is it because you think I’ll just make your shitty days even worse? Why…”

“Katsuki! Stop! You are speaking nonsense!” You take the blonde’s jaw into your hands.

“Don’t fucking call me that!” He yells, but his face says something different; his eyes are soft, begging you to say it again.

“Kirishima is probably really fucking done. I almost got killed and Deku is trying to find the cartel with the information I provided, together with Shouto, probably fighting for their lives to save the country right as we speak.” You murmur, caressing his cheeks with your thumb. You try to ignore the butterflies in your belly as the blonde looks up at you with puppy eyes, drinking your words like it’s the priciest nectar.

“The guy who got quirked…” Kirishima jumps in, not even trying to hide his crying voice anymore. You really want to teleport to him for a hug. “He’s here. He’s… not okay. I’ve never seen anything like this, Y/N…” Kirishima full on wails into the microphone, making your heart clench.

“Find his closest family member or a friend. Physical touch and reassuring words work as well. Hopefully, Deku will be able to give us some info about how to actually stop this.” You finish your sentence but Katsuki moves away from you with an offended look on his scrunched up face.

“That’s why you let me touch you? That’s why you let me so close? Because of the fucking quirk?! That’s what I am to you? A fucking nuisance?!” The blonde has another meltdown, yapping and screaming nonsense, making Kirishima cry even more on the other side of the phone.

“I let you touch me because I fucking like it, now stop fucking yelling because I can’t have this conversation with you while Deku is fighting for his fucking life!” You yell back, reducing the blonde to a stuttering, blushing mess. “Sorry for yelling… I’m just stressed.” You snuggle close to the blonde, letting him comfort you; he wasn’t far from the truth to be honest, you do let him get away with everything for the sake of his mental well-being but that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t let him do all of this anyway, but you can’t tell him that. Not here. Not now.

“Katsuki…” Kirishima speaks up, sniffling. “I’m sorry for everything. And thank you for being my best friend. You saved me from myself back in high school; the reason I am where I am is because you showed me the right path and you told me that I am good enough. Whatever is bothering you… it’s not real. You are enough for me, for Y/N… fuck, even Deku wouldn’t change a single thing about you. We love you, Katsuki. You are so manly and so kind.”

There are tears pooling in the blonde’s eyes but he shakes them away.

“Jesus, shitty hair, shut the hell up.” Katsuki sniffles and looks the other way. “I love you too, Eijirou. Now go back to work, you lazy fuck.”

Kirishima giggles on the other side of the line and everything goes silent; the only sound is coming from the bedroom, probably Steven knocking on the window to get some food.

“Can I say hi to Steven?” You look up at the blonde. Steven might help.

“If you wanted to take this to the bedroom you should’ve just said so.” He smirks but you only roll your eyes at the banter; on any other day it would reduce you to a stuttering mess, but you are way too stressed right now to even think about his implications.

“I would never use Steven to initiate an intercourse. I would also prefer him not watching.” You giggle as you make your way to the bedroom, pulling the blonde with you.

You play around with Steven for half an hour, actually managing to make Katsuki laugh when you pour some seeds into your palm and Steven eats them from your hands; Katsuki is so proud he even takes pictures of you while you laugh shyly when the camera is pointed at you. At one point, you steal the phone from the blonde and take a selfie; Steven decides to fly to Katsuki’s shoulders and it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen; at least until he shits all over Katsuki’s shirt.

While Katsuki takes a rapid shower, you get another phone call from Kirishima; the fight was almost impossible without being able to get close to Anguish, but a guy called Shinsou appeared on the battle scene and together they managed to take Anguish to custody; apparently, Anguish’s quirk can not be used on people with the same kind of power hence why he couldn’t do shit when Shinsou appeared behind him and pushed his ugly face into the ground. His last victim is still in the agency’s emergency room under a 24/7 supervision, surrounded by his friends and family. As Anguish wasn’t under drugs at the time he got quirked, the quirk shouldn’t be able to stick for longer than 24 hours.

“Tell him to come over, we can order pizza.” Katsuki yells from the shower and you don’t need to pass the message as it was loud enough for him to hear anyway. Kirishima agrees happily, saying he can’t stay for too long as technically he’s the only key holder in the office right now but as Katsuki’s place is almost a part of the office itself it won’t cause any trouble if he comes over for a few minutes.

After Katsuki is done with the bathroom, you also take a scorching hot shower to burn all your worries away. You finish in a few minutes so you can snuggle with the blonde in case he needs it.

Katsuki looks a bit sluggish, but much better otherwise; the exhaustion makes a person’s mind run slower so maybe the quirk also gets weaker as the person affected gets more and more tired as the night crawls closer.

This is amazing news, because it means it’s only the morning and the early afternoon you need to get through before you get the grumpy hero back. It will probably leave a scar on his soul as the memories will not fade away with the quirk being gone but with common sense he’ll be able to understand how harming and illogical his thoughts were. Bakugou Katsuki is a strong hero. He will get out of it.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Guys!” The crying redhead barges in, limbs flying in the air as he runs towards Katsuki.

I don’t deserve him. — Shut up.

“Calm down, you idiot, save your energy. You have a long night ahead.” Without a single thought behind his actions Katsuki hugs the shaking redhead; he can feel Eijirou tense in his sudden embrace, but he doesn’t care right now; he feels the urge to show weakness, to show these people his real feelings because…

Maybe, there isn’t a tomorrow anymore. There isn’t a next time. There is no future. I’m too weak, how am I supposed to stay like this for another 20 hours? No way. I can’t do this.

As the night came, the voices got less powerful; Katsuki hears them but his brain is too hazy and tired to fully understand them but he can feel that this isn’t the end; they will be back in full force, it’s only a matter of time.

Eijirou hugs him with all his power after getting out of his stupor, he snuggles close and weeps on his shoulder; on any other day, Katsuki would be disgusted by all the body liquids soaking through his shirt, but right now, it feels nice. It’s finally quiet again.

Katsuki knows he can’t stay like this for long without making it even more suspicious as it already is so he moves away reluctantly, shoving Eijirou’s body towards the sofa to sit down.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The smell of the pizza is strong; he’s not really hungry but takes a piece anyway; he stares at his friends devouring the food like they haven’t eaten for a week while he wonders why he doesn’t feel the same way. He knows he’s hungry and tired but his mind just doesn’t care; Katsuki feels like a wounded animal close to death; he feels the urge to run away, to hide, to slowly starve to death in a random dark corner of an alley where finally the pain stops and there’s nothing but darkness and peace.

He looks at Y/N, at the way she smiles at Kirishima’s 100th apology, telling him it’s okay, and he realizes he likes that smile; maybe it’s the veggie pizza that makes her so happy so he takes a slice of Y/N’s box and tries it; it’s easier to eat, it’s lighter and more saucy. Y/N swaps the two boxes over and takes a slice of his spicy one without saying a word about it; Katsuki eats a few more slices as a silent thank you.

Y/N puts the leftovers into a box and puts them in the fridge for later and Katsuki wonders if he will be able to eat them or was this his last slice; if it was, was it good enough to be his last meal? Probably not. But at least it was Y/N’s choice, so there’ll be a part of her with Katsuki forever.

Kirishima says goodbye, hugs the both of them before leaving; Katsuki grabs his shoulders, not wanting to let go of his best friend, of his companion of more than ten years; he wants to see him smile again, he wants to see him hyper and preppy as he comes into work at 7AM with the sweetest, most disgusting coffee in his hands.

He’ll be fine without me. I’m just making his work more complicated anyway. He deserves a better best friend.

When the door closes, Y/N takes his hand wordlessly; maybe staring at the door for almost a whole minute without saying anything made his thoughts too obvious. Katsuki doesn’t say anything he just lets himself be pulled into the bathroom to brush his teeth then to the bed; Y/N snuggles into his naked chest like it’s an everyday thing for them and Katsuki doesn’t argue. Not today.

The thoughts go away and he can breath again; as Y/N draws random shapes on his chest, leaving goosebumps on his skin with every stroke, Katsuki wonders how bad would it be to kiss her good night. He wonders so long her hands stop moving as she falls into a deep slumber after an eventful day, so Katsuki decides it doesn’t really matter anymore; he rolls to his side and leaves a tiny hint of a kiss on Y/N’s parted lips as he snuggles closer, chasing the warmth of her body in the middle of the cold night.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

When you wake up the next day, you find the other side of the bed empty and cold. Every single part of you trembles as a terrible feeling runs through you; there is no sound coming from the living room or the kitchen, there is no one on the balcony, only Steven running back and forth on the balustrade. As you jump out of the bed your eyes focus on a piece of paper on the nightstand; you are on the phone with Kirishima before you even get to the note.

“Take care of Kirishima and Steven. I’m sorry for everything. Everything will be okay. K.”

“He left a fucking goodbye note, Ei.” You burst into tears as your knees hit the floor, probably leaving a nasty bruise on both of them. “His phone is here. We can’t even call him…”

“Y/N, calm down, put some clothes on and come to the agency. I’ll ask the guys to check the CCTV to see if he went out or he’s still in the building. We will find him.” Kirishima sniffles, his voice deep and tired after sleeping on his office sofa. You end the call and do as you were told; in only 3 minutes you are in the CCTV room, looking at Katsuki’s disheveled figure moving around the hallway before taking a sudden turn towards the roof.

“Fuck!” Kirishima screams, moving towards the exit without hesitation. “You go up, I go down!”

“Why me..?” You ask with a confused frown on your face, but you move towards the emergency stairs anyway.

“Because he’s in love with you and this is the perfect time for you to tell him you feel the same.” Eijirou smiles and runs out of the main door.

Well, that’s definitely not what you expected, but even if he’s wrong, the shock might null the quirk, and a heartbreak is nothing compared to losing a person.

“You can fucking do this, Y/N. You can fucking do this.” You open the fire door leading to the massive roof as you activate an advanced smelling quirk to look for the caramel-scented blonde.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Why don’t you take a swan dive of the roof yourself, Kacchan?”

Katsuki is not inside his body, he’s somewhere else completely; there is a river underneath but the whole scene doesn’t make any sense; why is there a tall building right in front of a river? Bakugou knows this river, it’s a river near his childhood home and he’s quite sure no one has built a massive building in the middle of that forest.

“What are you waiting for, Kacchan?” Baby Deku mumbles with a broken smile on his tiny, chubby face. “You hurt me, you hurt Y/N, you hurt Kirishima; you hurt everyone one you love. You an incapable of anything but destruction, no one will mind if you end it, you know. I might be quirkless and useless for the society but I’m still so much better than you.”

“SHUT UP!”

“Katsuki!!”

The world tilts again and Deku disappears, his place taken by his mother who’s looking at him with pure disgust.

“I can’t believe I could only have one son and it had to be you. What an utter disappointment.”

“Mom… please…” Katsuki pleads, but he just gets shoved away.

“Stay the fuck away from me, Bakugou.” His mother’s face contorts then disappears and there’s Kirishima in front of him, looking at him the way you look at the vomit on the sidewalk on your way to work. “I wasted so much time to try to understand you, I gave you so many chances to redeem yourself but you just fucked up over and over again. I can’t do this anymore. I despise you.”

“Katsuki, please, snap out of it, I can’t get into your head to stop this, you need to come back to me! Please, come back to me!” Someone mumbles in the background but he can’t hear it too well.

“Kacchan, why do you still breathe?”

“I can’t believe I had to put up with you for years. You ended my career, you killed the symbol of peace. I’d still be able to fight if it’s not for you… it’s all your fault.” All Might steps right on Katsuki’s back as Katsuki tries his best not to throw up. He can barely breathe anymore.

“This is not real. I know it’s not. Stop it!” The blonde yells, but All Might changes into someone else; and this is the last straw for Katsuki. He can’t do this… he can’t…

“You fucking wish, you waste of space.” Y/N pushes him down the floor with one swift move. “What are you even fighting for? No one will ever love you, at least, I certainly won’t. I wouldn't even touch you with a ten-foot pole.” Katsuki can’t help the tears pooling in his eyes after hearing those words; he looks up from the floor, he tries his best to see the difference between this version of Y/N and the real one but there isn’t any. “What are you crying about? Are you in love with me or something?”

“Y/N… please, don’t leave me I can’t… I can’t do this anymore… not you… I can’t loose you.” He mumbles but Y/N just looks at him with pure disgust.

“Katsuki, you absolute son of a bitch!”

A sudden slap makes the blonde fall; right off the building, right towards the hard concrete, but something is off; something soft touches Katsuki’s lips and the time freezes; the background distorts then changes into something else; into a small room full of cleaning supplies. Katsuki has the urge to look around but there is something in the way; or rather someone, right in front of him, kissing him fiercely while their tears fall to Katsuki’s cheeks as her lips keep moving against him. It only takes him one deep breath to know who is the person in front of him, and there is only one way this is happening…

“Did I die?” Katsuki moves away from the kiss to look into Y/N’s eyes for one last time.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Did I die?”

“You fucker, I thought you were a goner!” You jump into Katsuki’s arms when he speaks up for the first time; when you found him in the shed on the top of the roof he was white as a sheet, mumbling to himself, not aware of anything, he was just staring into the space like he’s possessed and it was scariest shit you’ve ever seen in your life. After the words didn’t get him out of his stupor you tried everything; you poked him, hugged him, kissed him on his forehead while mumbling but nothing helped… the last straw was when he mumbled your name, begging you not to leave him; that’s when you slapped the poor guy in the face as hard as you could and then kissed him senseless. “You are alive. And the quirk should be gone I think. What do you think?” You mumble awkwardly, straddling the blonde’s thighs shamelessly. You literally kissed him without his consent, this is nothing compared to that.

“I think my thoughts are back to normal. I’m just really dizzy. And also a little bit confused.” He confesses. “You know, I was being told off by everyone I love, then suddenly, someone slapped me in the face and while my memories are quite hazy I’m quite sure someone also kissed me. What a weird dream that was.” The blonde grins with a tear-stained face and pulls you closer.

“The kiss part… was that a good dream or a bad dream?” You ask shyly, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“Hmm… well, I’m quite sure you had a morning breath, but otherwise, it was a nice dream.” The blonde grins again, even though you can’t see it. You can’t help but yelp at being called out for it; not like you had fucking time to brush your teeth before sprinting out of the building.

“You are such a shithead, Katsuki!” You poke the blonde between his ribs but you do not move away.

“Yeah, I am.” He sighs, snaking his arms around you as you melt into his touch; he’s back and you’ll never let him wonder away from you ever again.

…. Next Chapter (The End)

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- Wow, that was intense. I’m not going to lie this chapter fucked me up a tiny bit as I kinda used my own memories from a few years ago to write this, so I hope it’s readable. I went to a dark place for it 😂 Funnily enough the pizza bit is the part that gets me for a weird reason, it’s probably because that’s when Katsuki gave up fighting against the whole quirk and realized how much he fucking want to live at the same time. It scares the shit out of me to be honest.

- Btw what do you guys think about a Kirishima spin-off where Kiri falls in love with the barista who makes his beloved coffee every day?! WHAT ABOUT THAT?!

- Not much left from season 1 😭 It breaks my heart but I’m really excited to see these two as a “couple”! I have a feeling they have zero idea what the fuck they’re doing and it’s gonna be hilarious.

- I hope you guys are okay! Don’t forget, you are never alone and there is always something to look forward to even if you can’t see it yet ! 🩷

Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💥

Taglist (S1): @ibkg @chuugarettes @lilmaimai @nonomesupposedto @sozainturpal @luleck @notplutos @gold24fish @hanatsuki-hime

SEASON TWO: @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @hanatsuki-hime @sky179ler

Don’t forget, if you wanna keep being on the taglist for S2, send me a comment, ask, message or a pigeon.

[jackdaniel69nice]

since i am an angst connoisseur and starved of content i gotta ask, based on your timeline, what would your idea of "the incident" be?

my other question is, what happened that warranted the bandages?

Hi! When I posted about Tokoyami’s parents I made illusions to this incident but I can go into more detail!

There was a lot of drama that lead up to the incident, specifically the loss of Tokoyami’s grandparents who understood and took care of him and shadow the best and this loss devastated tokoyami. His other family members (aunts and uncle) also didn’t cope with the death well and weren’t able to support him, leaving him to his mother’s overbearing and strict lifestyle. He acts out more and gets in fight at school due to grief and it gets him in trouble. He is also trying to suppress this grief response because that is what he was taught so it is building up.

When his mother scolds (yells) at him after school for having a break down at school and “attacking the teacher” (the teachers was shining lights at shadow and they had enough and fought back). He is so frustrated and angry he purposefully releases dark shadow so they can attack her. He quickly loses control though and when his father defends Kohane (his mother) he gets terribly injured damaging organs and his spine so it’s hard to walk. As much as the incident itself is traumatic, the things that follow are much worse.

Tokoyami is arrested first of all and left in high containment nearly a week. His aunt who just recently had triplets finally comes to get him. during his time in jail he has a very wrong “realization” that everything wrong with life is actually dark shadows fault and blames them.

You see, his mother has been trying to instill this idea in him for a very long time. If he can just force dark shadow to behave, to control them, then everything will be fine and he can have a normal life. His grandfather though, always stressed the idea that dark shadow and him need to work together in cooperation, and harmony. Now that his grandfather is gone he is doubting his word and dark shadow injuring his father in their rage makes his mother’s words ring more true than ever. So tokoyami decided to finally lock down on dark shadow, no more leniency, no more free rein. Tokoyami is the warden and shadow is his prisoner, nothing more than a puppet. To keep the people he loves safe…right?

Welllll dark shadow is not happy about this. They are heart broken, worse than, completely betrayed, scared, Fumikage is supposed to be the one person they can trust, their other half, who would never turn on them, never blame them. All they ever tried to do was protect him, why are you doing this?? This isn’t fair. If they can’t trust Fumikage then they can’t trust anyone. The whole world is rotten. And everything is Fumikage’s fault.

So basically tokoyami starts a war for control with dark shadow that is taking place within his mind. Unfortunately Tokoyami’s aunt can’t have an unstable preteen near her newborns and reluctantly drops him off with his mother. Kohane needs to take care of her husband who is still in the hospital (not to mention her own injuries) and has no idea what to do with tokoyami…so she does nothing. She tells him to stay in his room with the lights on and not leave. She comes home, brings him a meal, leaves, locks the door, then returns to the hospital for a few hours to do it all over again. Meanwhile Tokoyami’s mind is slipping.

Tokoyami has had mental training his whole life to control dark shadow. It just upset shadow so much he never used it to its full extent. Now he has no care for “hurting” shadow, they’re just a beast after-all. So he sticks shadow in a cage doesn’t let them out. Dark Shadow fights so hard for their freedom at every chance they get, every scrap of darkness they find, they let it full their strength, their rage. They fight with everything they have until Tokoyami’s mind is in tatters, shredded by their claws from the inside. He paces the floor, he can’t eat, he can’t sleep, he pulls feathers and bites his nails. All for some semblance of clarity, to make his head stop hurting. He plays loud music to drown out shadows cries. He bangs head against the floor to match the migraine shadow is forcing from the inside. He feels like he is splitting, he thinks he is dying, maybe he is, maybe they will tear each other apart. He losing time, losing memory, he’s not sure where he ends and shadow begins. Drowning in darkness.

And one day it stops. One of them had to give, and for some reason it was Dark Shadow. They are quiet for a while much to Tokoyami’s confusion, did he win? Why does this victory feel so hollow? Why does it hurt. Regardless, it happens just in time for him to start his new middle school which is…special. For kids just like him.

Anyways dark shadow isn’t completely compliant obviously; they just let up the constant fighting. The “years they Endoor” (Dark Ages) are spent like distant roommates that despise each other. Stay on your side of the room and don’t look at each other. Unfortunately dark shadow’s only ability to converse while caged is with tokoyami telepathically so they end up bickering a lot still.

((Dark Shaodw has a reason for ending the fighting. Tokoyami just doesn’t remember it))

I’m really glad you asked about this anon because I have simply been dying to talk about it. To answer your question more simply. The incident refers to tokoyami losing control again but instead of protecting someone it was from pure built up malice. His hands are bandaged, his feathers unkempt, and him being visibly unwell is because of the mental break following the event and due to self harm.

Perhaps you are thinking Tokoyami should have gone to the mental hospital, and you would be right. Unfortunately he has been to hospitals before where he was horribly treated (part of the Trauma of his past) and has a fear of doctors and psychiatrist now. He wouldn’t take himself to the hospital ever. Kohane was also aware of how terrible Tokoyami’s mental state was, she was the one who would bandage his fingers and force him to eat when he couldn’t. She is also afraid of the hospitals mistreating him again (she feels responsible for him suffering through their abuse before) but there is also her stigma towards poor mental health in general. In Japan there is a wide spread stigma towards mental illness and the mentally disabled, such conversations are taboo. Kohane was raised very traditionally to suppress her emotions and never seek mental help, she wouldn’t have taken tokoyami anyway, even if it had killed him.