#im not sure disassociation is the right thing here?

[suckinitup]

lil writing I foud in the drafts. TW disassociation and brain fog

Vyncent doesn't feel awake.

He blinks down at the stove, slow, and tries to remember what he was making. Soup, his mind supplies, but that's obviously not right. It's a frying pan in front of him with little cubed pieces of beef. His knife is in one hand, a spatula in the other. There's still muck on his knife. He puts the spatula down in the pan to stir, but his attention is drawn again to his knife. Why hadn't he cleaned it off, yet?

Hands to pocket, finds his cloth, hesitates. Raw meat juice. Can't contaminate anything. That's the important thing in cooking. Not contaminating your surfaces.

Wait. Aren't people raw meat? His cloth is already contaminated, and so is his knife. That's okay then. They're allowed to be gross, the way that cutting boards are allowed to be gross. He'll just have to wash his hands afterwards.

He puts his cloth to the knife and pauses, stares at it. He's just standing there. Everything feels like cotton, like fabric between his finger and an edge.

Careful, that's right, that's what he was trying to remember. Careful along the blade so he doesn't cut, doesn't dull. Just wipes clean.

Knife away. Cloth in pocket. A pan in front of him, sizzling, and a spatula left inside it. He goes to grab the spatula by the handle, remembers the contamination, and withdraws. The sink...?

Behind him. Washing his hands is important. He goes to do that. Nothing is connecting right and he tries to focus on the steps. Water, soap, lather. The sink keeps running. Vyncent stares at the water flow, uncomprehending as his hands run over each other.

"Vyncent?"

Vyncent looks up to see Dakota. "Oh. Hey."

Dakota's eyes sweep over the scene. His eyes narrow a little and he frowns--his thinking face. Vyncent resigns himself to patient waiting, but the expression disappears as quickly as it had arrived. "Bad day?" Dakota asks, voice soft.

"Huh?" 

Vyncent looks down. His hands are still under the running faucet. He doesn't know how long he's been here.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess."

It's a little easier with Dakota there, moving around behind him. Like watching the hands of a clock, seeing the time move in front of him. Vyncent turns off the water, starts dying his hands as he listens to the little click of the stove turning off behind him. Oh, that weird smell is like burning. That's probably what drew Dakota in here. "...Is it rude to order pizza?" Dakota asks, almost hesitant. It's weird for Dakota to act delicate, like Vyncent is fragile. That's a mode usually reserved for William. Vyncent isn't sure how to act when its turned on him. Not sure how to feel about it.

"Nah," Vyncent answers, putting extra effort into the casual shrug of his shoulder. Look at him, feeling fine. "Pineapple?" 

"Will's going to kill you," Dakota says easily. "Yeah, pineapple. Hey, how about a movie?"

"Something scary?"

"I'll ask Will to pick," Dakota decides. He presses forwards, effectively herding Vyncent towards the other room. Vyncent feels mildly irritated, and mildly fond. The cotton is thinner, and his thoughts are easier to hold on to. He's awake enough, even, to go to the couch without prompting and have the forethought to adjust the pillows, grab the blankets. He hears Dakota on the phone behind him, already ringing up the pizza place, so he takes it upon himself to pre-choose a few movie selections for William. He doesn't have to. It's probably a little rude. He wants to pick at least a little, like he has to prove that he can. But also. He doesn't want to watch the Bee Movie right now.

It's nice, though, when William comes in and takes a pick from Vyncent's selections. It's nice when they're all bundled onto the couch, Dakota's head in his lap and William a warm line against his side. Solid weight. It's still a bad day. Still hard to focus on the movie, hard to follow the plot. It's a nice bad day, though, and right now that's enough.

[ihaveforgortoomany]

More thoughts on subtle nature of the Foundation exploiting its workforce and the people it saves

(Tw: Suicidal ideation mentioned here)

(I dont know to word this properly but looking at what Kakania chose at the end of anecdote marking the end of this particular arc of her character for now)

Im less looking at the nature of her therapy sessions (someone probably could look at that ans analyse the heck out of it) but the result and choice she makes after.

After leaving Isolde and reconiling the fact that right now, she cannot help Isolde and if anything distance between the two might be the best thing for the both of them. After all Kakania whether it was her intention or not contributed to Isolde's already worsening mental state and the only best solution right now is probably to leave her in this current blissful state/ dream.

As for Kakania? Already wrestling with the survivor's guilt of being the only recorded person to survive using the imperfect knot already weighs on her. Repeated panic attacks throughout the anecdote and the constant disassociation to the past as well. Sure she reconciles with the flaws in her methods and mindset, but what is the option given by the Foundation?

Join the expendable group of the History Guard (watchers I cant remember exactly) those jobs is to record everything happening in an era to keep field investigators informed at all times, and the way Greta described the job sounded like a high mortality rate.

Who would have even suggested Kakania the job? Certainly not Marcus, arriving at the end of her anecdote to invite Kakania to join Team TK, but Kakania initally choses to join the History Guard (its a situation where alot of Team TK members join branches in the Foundation, like Eagle with Lorenz and Edit its Windsong not Vila btw with the field investigators). Probably it was her psychiatrist who suggested the position. Which is worrying since Kakania clearly has suicidal ideations (the shard of the broken mirror and "being washed away is a just punishment for all my sins"). Why suggest a job that actively enables these ideations?

Ever notice that the colleagues of the psychiatrist she mentions also have continue working? Even if you are saved by the Foundation the immediate next step is to hire the individual, eventually even if they might fully recover from the shock of the Storm.

Its concerning that Kakania right now views her suffering as atonement for Vienna, now the Foundation hands her the job that could ensure it. The main method of the Foundation is control, over some perceived greater good in stopping the Storm, everything else falls to the wayside if it doesnt benefit the Foundation's goals.

Its not new to us for the Foundation to hire people saved from the Storm, but it is concerning that working for the Foundation is presented as the only option (why ofc you may say, they need more people to stop Manus and the Storm), but its the notion that this is the ONLY option. You cant really escape working for them, in that case you probably would be thrown to face the Storm and get reversed.

Its good that at some point Kakania does join Team TK (as evident in Vertin greeting her at the end of her trailer), maybe there she could actually heal; because with the Foundation it is only going to continue enabling that self guilt until something happens.

Summary: the Foundation traps those its save into a loop, the only option is to work for them, even if people are given therapy it seems to also double as a means to employ them as well.

[demento-mori]

1 n 3

1. favourite character

Its veryyyyy close between Siffrin and Loop but......... right now if i think I have to go with Loop. I was talking about it before but their whole deal fucks me up. Everything about them being a ""failed"" version of siffrin, after what feels like an eternity of pain and struggle and suffering that was too much for them to endure- being forced to watch as another version of themself gets the happy ending that they gave up on. The agony of learning just how EASY the solution was all this time. Knowing that their version of that is gone forever now, just like their country and their home and their family. Its SO cruelly ironic how they end up losing the one thing they wanted the most in the universe- staying with their family. GOD it fucks me up thinking about them......

and thats not even talking about just how charming they are as a character in their own right. Their character design especially is so fucking cool and thematically rich- with them becoming a physical representation of their own missing culture. (I was also thinking a lot about how im pretty sure by now that the siffrin in the opening cutscene is loop, and how they?? fucking ate a star and that made them turn into one??? like just thinking about the physicality of that is INSANE like its lowkey some body horror shit)

also just a misc thing i appreciate (kinda blurring the lines between loop and sif here) but I love how throughout the game you can see small glimpses of Loops personality and demeanor in Siffrin. For example:

I appreciate how, even though Loop acts notably very different to our Siffrin you can still see enough snippets of those mannerisms in Siffrin to the point where you can see how he would reasonably grow into this personality (and i know a large part of Loops persona is probably an act or a front, but i have trouble believing that 100% ALL of it is yknow).

In this same vein, its also gut wrenching to see how, as the loops progress, you can see how and why Loop has become so detatched from their family and the events surrounding them through seeing how Siffrin begins to disassociate, growing to view everything around him as a play.

I really could go on forever but I'll cut it off here with. yeah. I like the star!

3. favourite soundtrack

I think my favourite would have to be 'How Can You Help Me, Stardust?'. Its a really simple thing but I always love hearing boss themes that are expanded versions of the character's standard(?) theme. It just scratches an itch in my brain every time. The song also just absolutely FUCKS.

I really like the part where the melody from 'I WONT LET YOU GO HOME' comes in as well, because of how it shows the Loop fight as a mirror to the Vs Friends fight since yeah! the Vs Friends fight was Siffrin trying desperately to keep his family with him- and the Loop fight is Loop doing the same, trying to get their family back. Theres also a part where (unless im mistaken) it uses the harmony from the standard fight music, which i also think is really cool!!

[dottie-writes-tmnt]

A New Kind of Familiar

New York, his home, was a beautiful city. A city that never slept. But goddamn did he hope that he was asleep right now. He had dreamt the whole thing, he was sure. He was dreaming. Because, Raphael was certain he was in New York. But… this wasn’t the New York he knew.

Or:

2012 Raph gets dumped into Rise���s universe after a portal incident and learns what family really is

TAGS, WARNINGS, AND RATING:

Relationships:

Leonardo/Miyamoto Usagi(Minor), Raphael(Rise)/Mona Lisa/Male OC(Minor), Raphael (2012)/Cassandra Jones

Additional Tags/Warnings:

2012 Splinter's Bad Parenting, Hurt/Comfort (eventually), Meltdowns, Anxiety, Suppression Used as a Coping Mechanism, Bad coping mechanisms, Disordered Sleeping, Paranoia, Self-Hatred, Animalistic Traits, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, The 2012 Siblings Have a Certified Bad Time, Panic Attacks, Disassociation, Intrusive Thoughts

Rating:

13 and up. Y’all should be all good.

INDEX:

Chapter 1: here

Chapter 2: here

Chapter 3: here

Chapter 4:here

Chapter 5:here

Chapter 6:here

Chapter 7:here

Chapter 8:here

Chapter 9:here

Chapter 10:here

Chapter 11:here

Chapter 12:here

Chapter 13:soon

(Psst, im also @dottie-writes-haikyuu, @sapphires-and-sirens, @dotties-haikyuu-agere, @cupidddxx)

[firesarecool]

TLDR: something, something, pomegranate symbolism.

For those who have the fortune of not being on tiktok (im on there for edit audios that i disassociate to), there was a trend that happened a bit back, that was about pomegranates and how peeling them represented loving someone. (usually how guys treat girls, but whatever)

for example: most people peel pomegranates quickly and messily, which means they hurt the pomegranate, aka their partner.

I sort of understood it, and there was one video that stuck with me where someone peeled an entire pomegranate perfectly. they got out all of the seeds intact and left a perfectly clean, intact shell behind.

Today, i decided to try my hand at it, as there was a pomegranate in the house and it needed to be eaten soon.

It was hard. But, it made me think. So here is my take on the symbolism of peeling a pomegranate.

first off, the pomegranate is a person. Peeling it is getting to know them, coming to love them, having them open up to you. The pomegranate can be any person, any kind of love (my aro ass doesn’t do romance, so platonic love is what i was thinking about).

Peeling the pomegranate is hard, but perhaps the hardest part is the initial opening of the pomegranate. Sure, you could use a knife (i didn’t), but you risk cutting into many of the seeds. I used my fingers and peeled off layers until i got to the first layer of seeds. the shell of the pomegranate is the person’s outer layer, what most people know them as… breaking it apart is hard, and if you rip it completely, you hurt your person too much to fix. peeling off the outer layers is like slowly breaking down the persons walls, until you get to their true self.

Then you get to the seeds. in total I popped around 20-30 seeds, which seems like a lot. But i saved at least 500 (pomegranates have anywhere from 200-1400 seeds and this was not a small pomegranate)

The seeds are delicate, even pressing on them too hard will pop them. When dealing with a person you love, rejecting their inner ideas, their seeds, can break that idea, and hurt the person.

Actually everything in the pomegranate is delicate, and you have to be careful while removing the seeds, as one wrong press can rip off some of the inner skin.

getting into the less obvious things. When i peeled my pomegranate, i tried to be careful in the beginning, but i still broke it a lot and ripped off pieces in my attempts to get to the seeds. I was still learning how to peel the pomegranate with out damaging it. Its okay to mess up when you are learning how to love someone.

and you cant go back and undo what you did, so you have to do your best to learn how to do it right, and be careful in the future. If you dwell on all the damage you’ve done, you aren’t careful in the present.

Some of the pomegranate seeds are going to be bad, shriveled up and rotten. dont eat those. dont force yourself to accept the negative rotten parts of someone, set a clear boundary that you wont eat those seeds.

also, dont be afraid to love. when you eat a pomegranate, the thing that you are either breaking or preserving is the shell. the seeds get eaten either way, so dont put in the effort of taking someone apart if you aren’t going to love them.

Finally.

That video i was talking about? the one that stuck with me?

its bullshit.

pomegranates aren’t perfectly clean on the inside. naturally they have color, stains from the juices of seeds gone bad, stains from the growth of seeds, the color is proof that that pomegranate was alive. The person has been living.

And yes, sometimes those stains are from people who have treated the pomegranate roughly, but the pomegranate was not broken open by them. You can’t always know what your loved ones have been through, and you cant undo their pain. but you can treat them with gentleness while you have them.

the caption of the video, by the way, was “it’s not hard, just takes patience.”

again, bullshit.

it is hard. but it’s supposed to be. you cant have a meaningful relationship without putting in effort, without hard work.

anyways! thats my take on the pomegranate symbolism.

In case anyone was curious, heres the end result of my pomegranate escape. first is what i managed to keep intact, second is the waste, third is all the seeds i saved. (i didnt save the rotten seeds, and a couple fell on the floor, so i didnt save them either. those are in the waste bowl)

[vylxeon-blog]

My first post on Tumblr. Im just some dude, currently struggling with bunch of shit. I decided I would write it all down to help me process things and assess my situation, doing so here on Tumblr for accountability i guess. I'm not sure if anyone will read this but the idea that someone might feels valuable to me. For context, I am a 21 Year old man living with my parents in the Netherlands.

Ive just spent a 4th day in a row essentially bed-rotting. I'm struggling with maladaptive daydreaming for 4-6 hours a day, social media and porn addiction. Im also addicted to nicotine, and I've recently decided to quit drinking, and am now 20 days sober. I'm in my 4th year of college and should be getting my bachelor's in a few months, but I only have half the required study points. At my current rate it will take atleast 2 more years to actually get my degree, I have been lying to my parents that things are going fine, in reality I havent been to school for 2 years. (Though I have been racking up debt by paying for tuition, stupidly telling myself I will start going soon. In total I have about 11k euros in debt now.

I have a lot of facial acne because I abused steroids when I was 18, I did so in a very unwise way (oral only, high dose Dianabol, no estrogen base,) and my hormones have been shot ever since. (I think. I haven't been to a doctor or gotten blood work done.) my hormones used to be a lot worse though, I used to wake up in cold sweats, have panic attacks, be extremely irritable and impatient, self harm and disassociate by staring at the mirror for sometimes up to an hour, now I just have acne.

A few months ago the company i worked for decided to stop operations, and I have been procrastinating getting a new job ever since. However recently I've gotten a new job as the Dutch equivelant of an UberEATS delivery courier. I'm glad I can finally start working again and make some money, as it helps me feel much less guilty about my college debt. I have been taking driving lessons for longer than 3 years now, I'm just not very good at it. I've failed 2 exams, and have a new one planned In march. In recent years my life feels like failure upon failure upon failure. I think I suffer from undiagnosed mental issues, I'm probably neurodivergent in several different ways.

I'm very insecure and anxious. which is why I started taking steroids originally. I exercise regularly because I want to become as big and strong as I possibly can. Becoming bigger and stronger is one of the few things in my life I feel I have actual impact on. It's the only thing I'm really making consistent progress in. I do have some hobbies and friends, I won't say what specifically because honestly this post would start becoming pretty recognizable to friends I have who have Tumblr.

I feel purposeless and like a failure. I desire so many things. I want to be independent and not rely on my parents. I want to be liked by people and respected. I want to be competent and valuable and have and be all the good things a person should be, and I'm painfully aware that right now, I am/have nothing. At 21 years old I'm a fairly blank slate with a lot of negative programming already.

Here are some of the POSITIVES of my life: I present like a confident, extroverted person. I have a group of good friends. People say that I'm good with words, funny, and compliment my dancing. I'm generally known to my friends as creative and quick witted. However many of these things are the result of playing a character, putting on a front/mask. Also, I have strangely been somewhat succesful with women, having been in 2! (😎) Long term relationships, with both my girlfriends having broken up with me lol. This might not seem like a great achievement at 21 but my friends are all virgins so from they're perspective im a Chad.

Also, I'm a relatively strong guy, I'm not huge (though I will be some day,) but I'm fairly strong, I also practice MMA and am always able to beat my friends in wrestling. (This is valuable to me because I am deeply insecure. I know this shouldn't matter in a civilized society. I was always very weak in primary/high school, and when I "discovered" the gym at 18, like so many other young men, I became obsessed with physical strength and size.

I'm grateful that im not sexist or hateful, (If I may say so myself,) In our friend group we know some men who are and they are made fun of relentlessly. I think the only reason I am not an incel/sexist or whatever is because of positive experiences I have always had with female friends in school and girlfriends. I have always gotten along great with women. (Except my mom. I do not have a good relationship with either of my parents. They divorced when I was 19, I see my dad once every couple months, and I more or less hate my mother because I remember how she relentlessly verbally abused me for very small things when I was just a little boy. and try to avoid interacting with her even though I live in the same house.)

I want to get better. There was a time when things were better, what kept me grounded was having a job. It kept me from just procrastinating all week. I didn't work that much, around 12 hours a week. But together with going to the gym everyday, and my 2 scheduled hobbies I atleast did 1-2 productive things every day. I had a reason to get out of bed. I felt much less guilty about the way I was living.

I hope my new job is able to do the same for me. I want to: stop endlessly procrastinating, scrolling, maladaptive daydreaming, smoking, masturbating self harming and disassociating.

In a perfect world, I would: pass drivers exam coming up, scavenge whatever remaining study points I can and come clean to my parents about my college situation. Consistently eat clean, high protein at a 500 calory surplus for bulking. Work 3 days a week or so so I can make 11k euros to pay off my debt.

I feel like I'm drowning in things I need to do to get better. I need to visit a dermatologist to finally fix my skin after 3 years of acne. I struggle to say no whenever someone asks me to help with something so I have regular extra responsibilities from my hobbies, on the one hand they teach my valuable stuff and keep me grounded and in the real world, not disassociating. But it also weighs on me heavily.

Writing all this down has helped me clear my mind a little. I have some hope I will maybe be able to make some improvements. I'll try to do my best tomorrow. (Then again, I always try to do my best. Most of the time I fail and end up doing my meh-st)

[sidesteppostinghours]

Rolling in 10 hrs late but— 27, 28 Caine, 17, 34 for Cecilia? And B for all ur Steps, if you don’t mind :)

morning! thank you for the ask :D 

27. What causes them to feel dread? 

the fun thing about caine is that hes got really good instincts. its only heightened with hark (over 30 precog im p sure?) since hark encouraged him to listen to their gut. so if somethings about to go wrong, yeah, the dread is kicking in and theyre nope-ing the fuck out of there (the only exception to this is the casino scene). but there can also be false alarms if he disassociates hard enough, which is becoming more frequent lately. their paranoia+growing insomnia just adds to all of it. basically they just feel dread half the time,,, but also a more tangible thing that causes them to feel dread would probably be ortegas mind. if theyre in the wrong headspace, ortega brings back too many bad memories for them to feel safe.

28. Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth? 

hmmm,,,, im not sure! it really depends on why the other person is lying about it ig, and how severe/urgent the unpleasant truth is. by default he tends to prefer the truth, but its mostly for informations sake. for example, with argent, they Really wouldve preferred not knowing what she was capable of. now that the cats out of the bag hes even more paranoid, especially since they have no information on her to use to protect himself. meanwhile, with the autopsy pics, they appreciated chen telling them what happened because it gave them a better idea of what happened while they were gone, and in their eyes chen had no obligation to tell them (plus they got some free bonus info about the kind of contacts chen has which is really useful too). basically, if he thinks he needs it to do things better or more efficiently, hell be ticked off about somebody withholding the truth from him, and vice versca if he thinks the lie would be more beneficial to him instead. either way though, theyre good at keeping their emotions in check, so hed be fine getting the unpleasant truth either way.

17. Are they easily embarrassed?

nope! not at all. i mean, if she hyped herself up and managed to fail spectacularly, then yeah, i could see her getting majorly embarrassed. but thats p much one of the few situations i could imagine her feeling like that. ceci isnt known for shame– shes extremely blunt, to the point of being insensitive, and shes willing to do a lot for a quick kick. except,,,,,hmmmm,, argent making a comment or stealing a quick kiss when she didnt expect it and managing to fluster her,,,,,, please hold while i experience the visionsTM.

34. How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt? 

oof. i think prehb the guilt of what she left behind was definitely there, but it got buried under the satisfaction of being free and having fun for once. nowadays, she still lives by those principles, that no matter what happened at least shes here now, but this time around theres an added layer of her actively trying to forget. if she does something she genuinely regrets, its still getting buried, but itll just claw right back to her in inopportune moments. most of the time though, guilt is getting tossed right back out the window so it doesnt disturb her happy fun loving times. no, ortega, no, finch, she is NOT repressing, she is simply being #goofysilly and will not stand for regret ruining her vibe.

B) What inspired you to create them?

speaking for my general process with all my steps: im rather predictable when creating characters. lots of them follow the same molds, they just tackle different storylines, and the differing plots are what makes them all different characters. so when making my steps, i ended up using those same character archetypes and taking them to their logical conclusions based on what choices the game offered. it makes it easier for me to imagine how they react, and its fun to tack on a slightly different trait to the mold and see what happens. ultimately, they all fall somewhere on the extreme ends of the "good/evil" spectrum, but with an added bit of ✨spice✨ from the other end to get them going into fully fledged characters. these are my inspiration/archetype for each individual step:

Caine- being an imported character for the exile if, i already had his character in mind when making him! in exile, they were very much meant to be the stoic leader character that was just beginning to doubt what he fought for. the problem when i tried to put them in fhr was. chen. chen i love you but holy shit it was so hard to make him unique and interesting when you were literally RIGHT THERE covering all the bases they were supposed to cover. and chen has a dog which made him obviously superior. it was annoying, but my frustration with their similarities pushed me to put a lot of love into them and well. look at where my son is now lmfao.

Cyrus- @ that one person who made that post about herald subverting the cinnamon role stereotype: thank you. i owe you my and my bastard sons life. cyrus was just meant to be a step i used to explore heralds ro route, so i didnt mean to take him too seriously. because of that, and because this was directly after caine and i was getting frustrated figuring them out, i kinda just went with the flow– he was originally a character closer to the "flirty and funny but actually competent and surprisingly apathetic" type. he used to have like. 50% ruthlessness lmfaoooo. a lot of his major character beats were caused by me making mistakes and figuring things out by clicking random choices out of curiosity. after i played him once, the higher ruthlessness route i went intrigued me, and i started tweaking him further, which is how we got here.

Cecilia- i! wanted! to! have! someone! fun! i wanted to have someone fun. i just wanted to have a step who would dick around and do stupid shit because they wanted to. she was my third step, both caine and cyrus were so serious, i needed somebody to juxtapose that. she was very much the "fuck around and find out" character. i created her to explore the lupin route, which seemed appropriate for the sort of character i wanted her to be. i also wanted to romance argent. it all just sort of culminated in a whirlwind of the most out there, daring step i had. it was only later i considered adding some more serious edges to her story, she was a bit like stress relief lol.

Cynthia- i created her with ortegas ro route in mind! even though caine was technically an ortega ro step, he was secretcrush so they couldnt really do much lmfao, so i was itching to play somebody whod actually pursue her. i chose the "calm, kind, do not burn down the house please and thank you" character for her since it seemed like fun to try with ortegas more out-there energy. i also had her as an anarchist, which i thought would be interesting to see play out since she was definitely on the more heroic end of the spectrum and i wanted to see how she would tackle one of the more destructive job choices. unfortunately, the kinder characters are almost always the hardest for me to work with, so it did take cynthia a while to find her footing. now, though, i think shes come together nicely! very much a balance of the nicer character i wanted for her originally while having that small kernel of "i can fuck things up if i wanted to" that i find more fun.

questions from here!

[opheliajupiter99]

*When Topsy returned, Lee was still on the ground, staring out into space. When Topsy approaches, he starts speaking dazedly, as if in a trance*

He- he- well. He didn’t eat me? So that’s good. I always wondered what happened to him, secretly. *all of a sudden he burst into tears, and buried his face in his paws. He sat up, and started hiccuping and sniffling out words*

It’s- *hic* it’s my f-fault, y’know? He *hic* he was jus’ playing, but *hic* he- he bit me, an- and I told my mom. Why did I tell my mom? H- he almost killed me, y’know. But we were part of the same pride, he wouldn’t have! I knew he just got to rowdy and- and- I told on ‘im! *Lee’s still attempting to speak, but he’s sobbing so hard he isn’t getting any words out. He seems to have defaulted to a frightened child after his near-death experience and reevaluation of his entire life*

*when he calmed down a bit, and dried his tears, he said hollowly,* we were roughhousing, and I almost won, and he bit me. The- my blood welled, even through my fur. He bit, and tore, deep. Right here. *Lee pulls down his shirt a bit, and you can see a strange pattern over the junction between his shoulder and neck, like his furs colour changed, growing over scar tissue* right where he was nosing earlier, thinking about whether to kill me or not. *he seems to pull himself together a bit, sounding resolved to tell someone, and a little angry* It hurt. So I went crying to my mom, like a stupid kid. And I never saw Juu after that. Any kid asking about him was hit and told off. We couldn’t have been more than five, six, but rumours spread. I walked around with a big bandage for a while, wasn’t hard to put two and two together. Other kids started saying Juu’d had rabies, and that I probably did now, too. So I stayed on my best behaviour and tried to put him out of my mind. And now… now he’s here.

*Leander seems to be disassociating, and almost completely shut down, but looked relieved to have told someone about his past.*

*Topsy just stayed by his side and listened. Despite the reputation Hobgoblins had for being brutal warriors, heartless to even their own kind, much less anyone else, despite the fact he was drenched in sweat from having to outrun a crazed Tabaxi and rather dazed himself from such a thing, and the rather unfortunate reputation clowns in general had garnered around the Carnivale, he let him let it all out*

*Once he finished, Topsy sighed softly* "Well...he didn't eat you, cause I distracted you." *He said with a shrug* "But...if it helps any, he sees violence as positive - hell, beyond Dogwood it's the main thing that gives him joy. So...even if he was gonna kill you, he might've not seen that as a mean thing? If that makes sense." *He sighs again, rubbing a hand over his face and huffing, wrapping his arms around his knees as he sat*

"I...never really thought about the fact there were others from where he came from. Well, I mean, I knew they -had- to exist, unless the village was destroyed, I guess, but...I never really thought about it until now. It explains a lot, sadly - not just about Juu, about how he ended up here."

*Topsy's silent for a long moment, staring down at the ground. Finally, he speaks again, his own voice growing a bit distant as he spoke* "Hobgoblins don't treat 'broken' kids much better. I was lucky; I was left at an orphanage. From all I've heard about my own people...the usual path is to just-" *He hesitated at the last word, shaking his head as he turned his head* "...Just...end them." *He said eventually* "Hobgoblins want perfection. Not mental, like it sounds like it was for your village, but physical. I couldn't put up any kind of fight like this, barely four feet tall and built like damn string cheese, so I guess my parents were just like 'fuck it, try again'."

*He was silent again for a few moments, before looking to Lee* "I'm not gonna pretend I know if you can get him to forgive you or not; hell, I'm not even sure if Juu is capable of forgiveness. Or, like I said, since he likes violence so much, he might've seen killing you -as- forgiving you. One last game of roughhousing, you know? The man's an enigma. But...even wild animals can care about other living things, it's why wild animals can be tamed, can even be raised as if they were humanoids like Hootsie and Cinnamon. Even ferals aren't as simple as throwing them in a cell and tossing the key."

[unicornnipps]

sometimes while im struggling, most times I can recognize, but sometimes im really just surviving. I've been in fight or flight for the past few years, and while things now are much more calm for me, I still can't quiet the constant ramblings of my mind. Im aware there are several things I could do to help myself... I just can't figure out which is the best course of action for me. Should I medicate myself again? is therapy really going to help me feel better? or is It just going to be me PAYING someone to tell me things I've already told myself.

I swear, im new to this whole bipolar/adhd thing. I was normal once. I didn't constantly always have this looming idea that things would always go wrong at every chance they could. You couldn't possibly understand how much anxiety I get from not remembering if I turned the damn flat iron off. I definitely chalk everything up to how my last 10 years have been. Losing your whole immediate family will really do that to you. most of the anxiety comes from trying to keep everything together bc honestly, without me, who can I really count on to make sure im good? sure, my friends reassure me they're right here, but who is here with me when my thoughts are loud and I can't do normal things for myself besides sit in bed and disassociate.

Trying to get my shit together sooner than later.

to Prozac, or not to be?

[oh-cramity-its-amity]

long text wall of stuff. sorta vent

i think i sort of understand, but it's hard to find the words to place into context that feels right. i had a spiral earlier today because a manager (not from our facility but was visiting) called me "young lady" meaning COMPLETELY well by the sentiment, i know. though it made me want to vomit and want to cry.

it was like this strong resounding feeling of like your own skin suffocating you because oh no it all feels so so entirely wrong. and normally im able to brush off my agab pronouns despite hating it, but my chest was just so tight, and i wanted to shut down.

i felt too that by feeling things like that, i was being dramatic and that i should just- brush it off and move on, and i tried to!

but my heart just hurt. i felt wrong. uneased. bottled up and like i was about to burst open.

i texted my friend about this and it shot me further into a giant spiral of thoughts that still i feel so tied up in.

i blurted out about wishing i could just be a guy. and it wasnt in the context of me feeling like i was trans but just in the sense that i always feel as if im always resigned to my agab even though how hard i try to present myself as FAR from it.

theres always something of myself that makes people assign me to a box. and its like my skin wants to tear itself off of my bones because of how claustrophobic i feel of myself just being so wrong. its just such a complicated feeling to feel these things because people around me im sure would not get it, and my dad would probably try to talk me out of feeling the things i do even though he wouldn't understand fully. i mean he might because hes made so much more progress as a person than he used to, but it terrifies me to think about ever telling him things like wanting top surgery because of how massive of a thing that is.

even IF im an adult, hes literally the closest person in my life. i dont have irl friends. its just him and a few coworkers but we never talk outside of work.

i dont think hed react poorly, but i dont know if he wouldnt try to talk me out of things because hes done that before.

but it comes in waves- this claustrophobic dysphoric feeling of "wrongness".

sometimes im like 100% fine and then others it feels like im dying on the inside. ive talked myself out of it and to survive but its so complicated when everyone around you wants to put you in a box you've so desperately tried to disassociate yourself from.

society just doesnt understand nonbinary people and i hate it. i just want to appear more masc or androgynous instead of always being destined for my stupid fucking agab. its like im so tired too of always having to explain myself with people whenever i mention BEING nonbinary that ive just given up because all it is is just fighting to put my foot down with people. i already know who i am but people dont understand and i can't explain things to them because thats not why i am the way i am.

at least here i can be my true self and not be made to feel restrained by a label.

and so no i didnt correct that man either. because whats the point of it anymore. of any of this. sometimes i dont even know if i know myself and that scares me so fucking much because IM ME. i should know who im supposed to be, and yet something always happens where im like "maybe im wrong" maybe im doubting myself of any of this is worth it. EVEN THOUGH IK IT IS.

because i matter most in my own life.

i know im not a guy. i KNOW that, but i just dont want to be forced into being my agab because THAT LABEL makes me feel claustrophobic and like my chest is going to explode from being so tight. i dont know if any of this stuff even makes sense, i guess but its better than keeping things bottled up like i always habitually do.

cause ive been burned too much for me to feel like sharing stuff openly like this is good, EVEN if it is. ive got a lot of thoughts, i guess, and i feel like only the people online would even remotely understand.

ill get back to the dms and ask boxes later. i just dont feel right atm. its upsetting to me to think about all of this. i just wish there was an easier way to make people understand.

ive been feeling so burned out socially, too, so im sorry. its not yalls fault at all, i just get overwhelmed or anxious- heck.. both.

been doing what i can and what feels easy, but i feel like its not enough because i hate making excuses for shit but i genuinely do just feel overwhelmed by things sometimes on here. i get excited but i just wish i could divide my time evenly between a bunch of you without my social battery being gone. long messages feel so mentally exhausting even though i love hearing from yall and talking about things.

im sorry this is such a downing type of thing but i really think i needed to say this. other than that it was a good day. i hope your doing well.

why is gender so hard and confusing :(

[angelblooms]

the worse i feel the more i’m thinking about my escape fantasies. like i’m having a great time with all my friends and things are generally pretty okay but there’s certain.....things that i just want to run away from!!! 

escape fantasy #1: this one is soft and pastel and quiet. i live in a beach house. i can go outside and the beach is right there. i go to sleep at night with the sound of waves. i wear flowy dresses everyday. there’s no stress or worry or weirdness. no one talks to me, or bothers me, but i’m not lonely. i don’t need anyone, and that’s okay. the days are long and slow, seeming to go on forever, but in a good way.

escape fantasy #2: this one is yellows, oranges, reds, bright blue. i live in california. i have a small apartment with brick walls. i work at a coffeeshop, and it’s really chill and easy. i have a big group of friends, and i never feel off or weird around them. i never get that “alone in a crowded room” feeling. they’re accepting and open, even if i say something off-the-wall. i feel important around them. i never have to fight for anyone’s attention. every weekend, we hang out at someone’s place or go somewhere around the city. things are loud and crazy, but never too much. just the right amount. 

escape fantasy #3: this one is new. i live in a cold, green country, like ireland. i have a cluttered house with a lot of windows. wild animals come visit, like goats, sheep, rabbits, etc. i’m not sure if anyone’s involved in this one but it’s very quiet and comfortable. 

[autumnbrambleagain]

nah man dark souls 2 was unfinished! look at all the unused or repurposed content! ignore that grundyr was obviously meaan to be oceiros and his pus of man was why he was the consumed king and how even after ocellotte was made invisible and it makes no sense

ignore the farron watchwolf being obviously a boss that they didn’t finish so they just made this random fucking model into the coveneant leader with no dialogue

man ignore that the covenants in dks3 have like no personality at all. oh man yeah the aldrich covenant, i sure love the feeling of defending the guy who ate gwyndolin because [in-game reason not supplied]

or oh how about who can forget the covenant leader mentioned earlier, repurposed wolf model that doesn’t interact with you? at least mound makers had someone even mention what their covenant was about at-fucking-all and the dickwraith covenant had a semblance of a story

way better than dark souls 2 with, let’s see... oh, the funny silly bell covenant of insane mannequins that gave you dedicated pvp zones in both early and late game areas that were fun to play in or the rat covenant with the RAT KING (MY KING!!!!) who totally wasn’t a major fucking hottie with a ton of story and a deep emotional connection and man haha wasn’t it boring how it let you be the BOSS of your own dungeons and set up traps and ally with the monsters? wow that was so boring! nowhere near as good as dark soul 3′s version where you uh

wait right they didn’t have one

ok BUT the random NPCs in dark souls 3 were way better, like crestfallen warrior #5! he becomes the dragon guy at the end! or anri remember anri! and patches is here! and. uhm. uhhmmm. gael! sure he barely talks to you and just kinda shows up as the end boss of the series with no build-up but BUT he’s a BERSERK reference isn’t that great! and for smiths we have andre! again! because you recognize him, right? thing you recognize!

i mean let’s look at who was in dks2 haha you have what only like, the crestfallen warrior who--what’s that he has an arc and becomes a positive and optimistic--okay well how about smiths? a cool old dilf with dialogue and a personality and reason for being there and with a quest where you can help him find his daughter but it touches on the effects of being cursed?

and oh lucatiel of mirrah an entire questline dealing with what it feels like to be dark souls cursed? waifu ornifex? shalquior the delightful cat? LADDER BOY? creepy darkness grandpa?

ok ok but see but see dark souls 3 had uhhh. had uhhh. a. a grandma who told you which direction to go. way better and more memorable npcs!

ok how about how DISJOINTED the world feels in dark souls 2, it feels like you’re losing your mind and disassociating and ending up in entirely different and weird places like you’re cursed or something! compare that to dark souls 3, where uh. where it’s like stitched together with no rhyme or reason. no see it’s okay when dark souls 3 does that shut up.

also ok ok ok how about how all the bosses in dark souls 2 are just guys with SWORD? not like the best bosses of dark souls 3, freide (human with weapon) or gael (human with weapon) NO LOOK SEE dark souls 3 also had uh uh the demons in pain and below! and uh. uh. rotted. cursed greatwood? uhm.

like ill give it to you sulyvahn fucks, watchers of farron fuck, nameless king fucks. dark souls 3 has the best bosses for sure.

ok ok what about toolkits? ignore that dark souls 2 gave you a bigger variety of spells, weapon types, and ways to use them, dark souls 3 had WEAPON ARTS: an entire extra move for some weapons! wow!

i can’t even fucking remember much of anything from dark souls 3 and half the time im playing elden ring i just find myself wanting dark souls 2′s multiplayer turned back on instead

fuck you

[rise-my-angel]

#OKYA BUT GENDRY!!!!!!!!!#i am here for gendry and reader with their little family dynamic#god this series truly makes me love the baratheons#the way gendry and reader were able to just fall into jests and whatnot makes me🫶🏼🫶🏼#olly gendry and reader. who would have thought at the start of reading this series would i instantly fall in love with this little trio #i have adopted olly in the same way reader has#somewhere theon is in his room like ‘jesus fucking christ here we go again

I firmly believe all Baratheons are some degree of hilariously charismatic, but it comes out in such drastically different ways in each of them. But because Gendry is so lowborn, he has absoutely no care in filtering that charisma which manages to break through all the highborn formality burned into the readers psyche. I've known since chapter 2 I'd be bringing Gendry back into the story around this point and have been chewing on drywall waiting for the right opporunity to do so.

Olly though, started off as some kid who confessed to murdering Jon, to being the one character the reader has all but filled out the adoption papers for. Like he started out greatly admiring Jon but then at his worst actions and lowest of points the reader gave him a chance he thought no one would, and neither of them are going to forget that.

And honestly Theon is about to die of a stress induced heart attack and I'm sure hot head Theon will not at all clash with short tempered Jon now that their referee isn't there to tell them to go to their separate time out corners.

#THE WAY SAM RECOGNISED JON’a FIGHTING IN READER IM GONNA BASH MY HEAD AGAINST THE WALL #also#that gif from community of donald glover coming in smiling with his pizzas to be met with the entire room on fire and chaos#that’s sam meeting reader for the first time#this guy just wanted to get back to jon to tell him what he learnt. and now he’s been thrust into a fight with the queen he thought was dead#and now he’s on his way as a hostage as insurance

Sams been at the citadel for like a year, the poor man doesn't have a clue whats going on and the FIRST city in the North he goes to and all this happens. Like he's standing there thinking "No no no no fuck no this ain't how I find out jons girl is alive what the fuck is going on here what did I walk in on i just wanted to tell jon what i learned at college????"

#also laughing at howland reed just chilling in his room#and then 5 minutes later reader bursts in. drops the bomb and now everything’s gone to shit#the man just got to winterfell and didn’t even have time to breathe before the can of worms got opened

Howland has been sitting in his bog swamp home for like 10 years on a lilypad talking to fucking no one like "everything is fine". His brain almost breaks seeing Jon and then is like nope get it together Howland you have a job to do only to get accosted by the reader like "IVE BEEN HAVING WEIRD DREAMS AND ALSO I FIGURED OUT THE REALMS BIGGEST UNKNOWN SECRET AND IM GONNA SPILL THE BEANS"

He probably stood there at the door in his room for like 20 minutes disassociating right after the reader left honestly.

#but also truly heartbreaking end#jon and reader can’t catch a break

I'm sure this isn't a theme or anything or a motif, or a strange seemingly unavoidable running phenomenon between them that symbolizes things to come :)

Heart of the Great Wolf

33 - Blood, Roses and All Lies

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

Length: 16.1k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, past character death, mentions of rape, mental duress, disturbing imagery, descriptions of blood and gore

Notes: No, I'm fine, it's cool. Nothing at all is wrong, everything is fine. Don't look at me. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

As you had sat down, it was already suspected what the response was going to be. Some would be fine with it, others wouldn't be as happy and a spare few left would likely stand and argue over the matter in principal but there was no more room left for chance. Beside you, Jon stood tall as his voice projected in the vastness of the main hall. “Everyone aged ten and up will drill daily with spears, pikes, bow and arrow.”

A laughter waved across the hall as Lord Hornwood spoke up with an air of amusement in his tone looking to the men by him and over. “It's about time we taught these boys of summer how to fight.”

Biting your tongue, you held your expression as still as could be knowing the protest about to come, but Jon had the confidence in the decision to not waver. “Not just the boys. We can't defend the North if only half the population is fighting.”

Room falling quiet, many eyes found Lord Hornwood as he stood with a narrowed expression and judgment sitting upon his tone. “You except me to put a spear in my granddaughters hands?”

Considering the one who started you on your own path of weaponry stood beside you, it was easy for Jon to find a calm but collected response.

“I mean no offence, my Lord, but that was a command.” Many heads turned to either their King with pride, or Lord Hornwood with a question of doubt sat upon their eyes of what he would say. Jon however, was not finished. “I'm not asking you, any of you, to be comfortable with your wives, daughters, granddaughters learning how to fight. But this isn't a normal battle we are preparing for. If we fall, there will be no one left to protect them and these things will not care how young they are.”

More silence rippled through, and unnerved speculation fell upon the crowd. But Jon was at Hardhome, he had seen who the army of the dead rose up with and not for a second did how young any were make them not as dead as before. Or as blue eyes to terrify as every other. Children died that day the same as their mothers and fathers falling beside them.

Your voice was quieter then Jon's, but the silence of the room heard it all the same. “If your granddaughter knows nothing of how to fight, it will be far more difficult to expect her to know how to defend herself when the time comes.” Something sat at the edge of his mouth, but you stood up with a voice finding itself louder. “As a parent, you do everything in your power to protect your children. But there is a strong difference between protecting them, and coddling them. When they come, they will not pass by our daughters and granddaughters because we wish to keep them away from it.”

Raising an eyebrow, you knew that without looking despite the flatness of your voice and face a smirk found it's away onto Jon beside you. “Besides, I assure you my lords, your King is none to happy when I've been on the field of battle but he suffers through it all the same.”

Your eyes found Maege Mormont and she stood in agreement. “She's right. I lost one of my girls that night at The Twins, but I haven't let that stop me from making sure my four youngest can fight as well as my Dacey did until the end.”

The Frey's were only men, the Others were not. The death to follow when they come through these lands would be worse then the ones which killed so many already. Any who had no training whatsoever would stand not a second of a chance this time as Jon continued. “I'm not preparing our children for battle, I'm ensuring they know how to protect themselves. I'm not asking us to like it, but I am telling you, telling all of us, that this isn't about what we want anymore. It's about survival.”

Many waited to see if Lord Hornwood had any left to say against his King's word but sense seemed to find him more as the eyes turned to him in waiting judgment. None had noticed the figure slinking in the back of the room, short and unseen by most. Just as he begun to speak, “No one here is questioning-”

But the voice spoke up. Similar to you, it was on the air of quiet and soft spoken but as many turned to the voice they clearly felt the certainty in their words. “Your granddaughter does not need your permission to defend the North. My daughter is the fighter between her and her brother, and if they have no issue with it, neither should any of us.”

It took a moment as eyes watched for it to click, but it was easy for Jon. Catching a better glance at him as the crowd parted somewhat to make the man visible. Clothes made in tones of black and deep greens and the sigil etched into him of a black serpentine lizard. Judging by both age and wear in his eyes as the man found that of Jon's he knew right away who had stepped into his hall.

“Lord Howland, I've never had the pleasure.”

Howland Reed had looked up at Jon in silence for a moment. Something behind his eyes that had your lungs catch as if you recognized the hidden intent. But found little in your present mind to focus on it as such. He stepped between the standing crowd, pulling the hood down to properly address him. “I had not the courage to come before now, your grace. I ask to be given the chance to make amends for not stepping foot into the fight against the Boltons. Forgive my silence and allow me to serve you now when I had not your brother, our late King.”

It was quiet in the room as Jon had nothing but respect in his eyes. “You saved my fathers life during the Rebellion, without you many of us might not be standing here as we are today. You will always be welcome a place here, my lord. There's nothing to forgive.” Howland Reed nodded, as did Jon before the former took his time taking his leave to slink at the wall of the main hall and hide amongst the larger men as a shadow would.

Jon turning once more to the crowd, as you had not sat down as he hadn't. Finding a silence with sharp, narrowed eyes but listening as intently as all others. “While we're preparing for attack, we need to shore up our defences. The only thing standing between us and the army of the dead is the Wall, and the Wall hasn't been properly manned in centuries. The last we had seen them was at Hardhome, the closest fort to there is Eastwatch by the Sea. Now if they do breach the Wall, the first two castles in their path are Last Hearth and Karhold.”

Interrupting, a womans voice came from the back of the room, “The Karstarks betrayed the North.” A rumbling ran through the hall, and you spared a glance with Jon. Both of you sitting with unease at the riling up which easily could come through and a question on his at how deep did this issue run he did not know the details of. “Their Keep should be torn down with not a stone left standing.”

As voices begun to rile up, you glanced through the room, eyes finding Smalljon Umber, sitting himself quiet with something trying to breach his tongue. Your own voice spoke first, “The Karstarks did not betray the North. Rickard Karstark betrayed his King, that is a far cry from-”

Even as other voices spoke up, you were thankful this was not your first time acting as a speaking leader to a rowdy crowd of Northerners . But you did not quite grasp why it seemed Lady Barbery Dustin was so intent on vocalizing her disagreement when before she had not. “So there is no punishment for treason?”

Glancing to Jon, there was a darker tint in his eyes that did not reiterate whatever it was they were aiming towards as he addressed her. “The Karstarks have fought beside the Starks for centuries. They've kept faith generation after generation-”

“And then they broke faith.”

You didn't like that you couldn't place her tone. Something was frustrating that put the hall into silence as heads all turned to Jon, many you could see teetering on speaking up in defence of their King. But he was not a man who needed others to do that for him. Not now. His brows narrowed slightly as he once more let his voice speak loud and verging on losing his patience. “I'm not going to strip a family of their ancestral home because of the crimes of a few reckless sons.”

Baited breath all waited, the tint of anger seeping in Lady Barbrey's voice making your own eyes narrow. “So there's no reward for our loyalty, but the House you fought against with the Boltons receive nothing for their treason?” Something kept banging in your head, but you didn't know what and it had been a long time since you felt it for something not so urgently dire. You just couldn't place what the feeling was.

Not for a moment however, did Jon entertain this debate. Waiting for the whispering to settle before he addressed the room as a whole. “When I was Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, I executed men who betrayed me. I executed men who refused to follow orders. My father always said, the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword, and I have tried to live by those words.” His eyes found hers, and he too, couldn't place something standing out of her comments. “But I will not punish a son for his father's sins, and I will not take a family home away from a family it has belonged to for centuries. That is my decision. And my decision is final.”

But, it instead seemed, the question found its way to Smalljon Umber as he stood, “Your grace, if I may. I have been close with many of the Karstarks my whole life, and I do not disagree with your decision but there is one who has not come forth.”

Say it, you thought. Say what you had all been thinking since that day in Deepwood Motte. Tell Jon how his little brother ended up on the path to his burial in the crypts below.

“Ramsay Bolton spent much time trying to organize manners in which to get our Queen back in his captivity. And it was through those plans which he found Rickon Stark, knowing if one Stark could be found he assumed you would be willing to negotiate a trade.” Looking guilty, you knew it wasn't going to be easy admitting it. He and Harald had been close friends as long as you had known both men and whispers begun once more to flourish through the halls at his words, but he continued regardless. “Harald Karstark had held bad blood between him and our Queen for his fathers execution, and saw his vengeance fit as leading men to search out for Rickon Stark and bring him to Ramsay.”

Anger rippled through as the sight of Rickon falling to the ground played right before your eyes, and a burning in your veins at what you didn't do to stop it. In your chest the increase of your heart felt unkind. Jon's voice beside you was as tight and restrained as you could see in the clenching of his jaw as your eyes flickered to his tone. “Lord Glover put the same accusation forth, but if you have no more proof then we had then-”

The court went back and forth, but you couldn't hear. Or feel or see anything as something dark encroached your vision. The voice of one man screamed in the halls over the sounds of pouring rain that all boomed so loudly you almost flinched. “Kill me and be cursed. You are no King of mine.”

What were they saying around you? Your pounding heart cut every path to your lungs and it burned within you as you suffocated in the sounds of yelling and whispering all as voluminous as the other.

“If Rickard Karstark was alive, Rickon would be alive too.”

“If you stayed dead, his brothers wouldn't be.”

“They all know its your fault.”

“Jon blames you.”

“Ramsay's whore.”

Was anyone speaking anymore? Were you alone in the hall and yet not many noticed how white from strain your knuckles had turned as your palms braced against the wood. What was anyone even saying all voices felt as if they were fading away and the room dimmed from the afternoon to something dark and only just as you lifted your head to the room did you hear it.

The voice calling your name clearer then anyone and in the hall at the end was one you knew, and yet in your waking hour your understanding escaped you of who you had seen. You had no voice though, you found no way to call out to him as he was finally in front of you after so many years. But he walked carefully, an arm outstretched as he spoke almost upset and desperately. “I didn't mean for this, any of this, to happen this way. I was trying to help but now I don't know how to make it stop..”

You once more failed to open your mouth with words instead only blood spilled out. He came forward looking more and more upset and as he to stand in front of you? An arm reaching out to you like a boy desperate to fix things did the strings begin to play.

They played and they increased so loud you knew the both of you no longer could hear any including each other as they grew enough he had to cover his ears it was so painful. But then you heard one more voice behind you. “Afterall, my King is long overdue a wedding gift for he and his Queen.”

The boy tried grabbing you with both hands to pull you away but the stringed music was so loud you couldn't even hear him call your name until the music stopped and the hall was silent was you heard Catelyn yelling Robb's name in desperate warning.

A different set of hands grabbed you from behind to pull you back and the other reached around forward and just as the sharpness of the blade sunk deep into your stomach did you startle back to the world.

The cup in front of you had been knocked down in your startle as it clanked against the ground and the contents spilled across the table and dripping to the floor. Interrupting what was seemingly a display of commands from Jon as a few other men now stood in the clearing near the high table but all eyes looked at you.

The only pair of eyes that were not looking in worried fear, were in the very back from a now very curious Howland Reed.

By the time the meeting had dispensed, Jon instantly almost threw his hand down on one of yours against the table the second you made to move. Not a thought in your mind in that second but the list of things you were intending to do that day, but Jon squeezed it and it kept you in place, if not willingness of your own then by his strength alone.

You had almost missed half of the meeting, and part of you worried that it was a scolding coming your way, in what you knew was a strangely childish notion. Ser Davos made his way from the now depleting crowd towards the high table as Jon glanced at you with a raised eyebrow for a moment. An almost indiscernible slow blink that told him enough to decide to let your hand go. “Not common from what I've seen that one of your own people argue with you so freely.”

Giving the benefit of the doubt, Jon exhaled out the irritation to let it simmer. “Northerners don't tend to hold back how they feel. Can't blame her for that.” Still, not one of the three of you looked with any ease as if the strange scenario of the whole meeting sat amongst everyone still now.

Footsteps came approaching, directing the attention to Howland who gave a courteous bow as he approached. “If I could spare a moment of your time, your grace?” Jon nodded and Howland closed the gap stepping up the small stairs to the high table where you all stood with much less authority. “Your father was a friend who meant a lot to me, but I feel as if I've failed my duties to what remains of his family. I sent aid but did not join Robb Stark's war in the South, nor did I come to your aid in either battles you have lead since.”

Jon shook his head, tone deeper now as it fell in volume to a more normal softness. “One of my brothers from the Nights Watch met your two children, told me that they're part of the reason why Bran is still alive, still out there. They may not be here to thank, but I can thank you for sending them to help him.”

A fond smile on the mans face formed, thoughts of children he could sometimes barley understand and yet knew them better then a soul else. “Hardly my choice, your grace. I raised them to be too much like myself, made that choice all on their own once they knew what needed to be done.” Crossing his arms he inhaled, “My boy, Jojen, he was the one who realized it was your brother who needed help. He has the Sight. He can see things in his dreams, from the past and things that haven't happened yet.”

“Promise me, Ned.”

Ser Davos could see your unnerved silence, and decided he had not the patience for such mysteries, not after seeing what happened that night on the ship with you. His tone was short and verging on an irritation that didn't mean to be directed at anyone, but came off at the man anyways. “And how would he be able to do that?”

“I'm afraid I don't have all the answers for you. Jojen had the Sight, not myself. I only know what he told me and that is very little compared to the power behind this sort of thing.” You wanted to flee the room but you were glued down in your very feet rooted in place. “But whatever counsel I can offer to both of you, I am here to make available to you, should you wish to have it.”

Directing his attention back to Jon, you could only glance to Davos as you both felt more uneasy about what was being said on this day then either Northerners seemed to come off as. And it wasn't until you both made your leave, did either of you say word of it. “I'm not here to pass judgment, but the more people talk around you of magic and visions the more stress it's putting on your shoulders.”

Standing out in the breeze of the walkway overlooking the training yard, you both kept eyes on the men begin running through some very basics with the the young ones around. You voice distant as was the glaze over your eyes watching as if years ago looking back to yourself. At least this time you knew it was that of only a memory. “Everything always falls on Jon now, it seems only fair I take some of that burden for myself.”

Your forearms were leaning against the railing, hands clasped together as Davos moved to mimic the posture as to speak quiet to only you. “And he's far better at handling it then you.” Only a single nod was given in return, you had nothing to deny of that. “What was it they said about the Targaryeans? Every time ones born the gods flip a coin? Maybe we should check with Selyse, make sure your father's not secretly one of them, that's making you lose your mind.”

It was a joke, it was Davos making light of the worry to quell it in both of you for the conversation but it strangled you until you felt your heart pounding so hard you felt dizzy. Trying to utter out in jest, and failing at the tone, “Not sure that's how it works. You don't become mad, you're born that way and only time and power will bring it out eventually.”

He could sense something rigid in your posture that wasn't there before, but no idea what would be running through your mind to cause it. “Put a lot of thought into it, have you?”

Your eyes found Jon in the distance, and you felt that strangulation surround you and overwhelm your senses. Vines stemming from blue roses wrapping around each limb until it consumed you as they burned and pleaded of a promise.

“I grew up in the shadow of the Targaryeans. Difficult not to.”

It was in a moment alone did you finally reread it. Alone now up on the landing, you leaned down enough to grab something hidden in your boot, a long standing way you've kept papers from hidden eyes when you needed to keep it on you. Wolkan said the letter had come in while away on Dragonstone and he had only shown it to you, the contents being unusual as it was addressed to you specifically.

After learning what you had, you didn't want to risk anyone finding it out until you could ensure they were somewhere safe, enough had been done to them all at that point and so few of you left. But Jon would want to know why and for what you had to go there and you didn't want to risk that answer before you understood what was going on. Any hint of who was there in the wrong hands could mean the worst, and enough of that had happened already.

Writing in a crude style of code seemed to be a habit in that line of blood. You knew right away what was being said, however. Repeating something particular he once said. The day you and Eddard Stark had gone to the armoury of Tobho Mott, that was what the boy had said when asked if Stannis had questioned him at all.

“He never said a word. Just glared at me like I was some raper who done in for his daughter.”

You could only imagine how alone he was, for you to be the one he found a way to reach out too.

Met once and never forgotten that feeling as you looked him in the eye. Like you were looking at your twin. And now you knew two things for certain, he knew you were blood family and the only living one of Robert Baratheons bastards was Gendry.

You were glad he was alive, but you also felt somewhat ill that it wasn't Barra. She would have been what? Four years old? How horribly was she ripped away from that young girl who was her mother? All the years passed, and the young girl in Petyr Baelish's brothel likely still wouldn't even be the age you were when you met her. The brightness in her eyes as she looked at you cooing at what was your newborn cousin, asking if you agreed that she looked just like him.

And she did. Dark hair growing fast as Baratheon babies always did, bright green eyes and a look of mischief you knew was present as well in your blood. You desperately hoped the girl was doing alright. That she had gotten free of such a life and found love elsewhere that wouldn't be stricken by blood.

Knowing the kind of man Petyr Baelish was, you doubted it.

It was later Jon had startled you when he finally came across you in a moment of quiet. Very suddenly a warm presence at your back as two hands slid across before pulling you gently back against his standing position to your sitting one. “Do you know how to relax anymore?”

A hum left your throat, as a small half smirk formed on your face. “For your information, I have been scouring through letters looking for desperate marriage proposals.” A deep grunt barley made it out of Jon's chest before you huffed a laugh as the feeling of his hands increased in tightness. “I never said they were for me, my King.”

Glancing up and slightly behind you, Jon raised an eyebrow teetering on his own amusement before leaning more down to put his head more level to where yours was. Tone a deep rasp in your ear as one hand left your arm, “And I'd say no to them before I even got to their name.” Grabbing the raven scroll in your hand he mindlessly tossed it onto the table in front of you before turning you to look back at him enough he could press his lips to yours.

Soft and gentle they were, nothing but a coaxing for you to follow his lead as you relaxed into his touch with a sigh into his own mouth. A motion causing Jon to pull away only long enough to laugh a smile into his next kiss which was a little more innocent of a peck then the other. Yet just as you were to melt into him, your own hand reached up suddenly and grasped at his hand wandering towards sneaking into the top of your dress.

A chuckle left him deep as you pulled away with narrowed eyes as he pressed another kiss to the side of your head. Mumbling at him in playful disapproval, “How am I supposed to help run your kingdom when every time I get somewhere, you come along and distract me?”

Almost without even thinking, or without any effort much to your constant surprise. Jon all but yanked you up off the seat to take the place himself, pulling you back down onto his lap sideways with a yank at your dress. A small yelp leaving you as you steadying yourself with arms around his shoulders and back of his neck as you glared at him. Jon barley even reacted to your irritation. “I'm the one running this Kingdom.” A hand wrapped around your waist keeping you to him while the other gently begun to run through the hair loose at the side of you face. “You, are here to keep me from losing my mind, and to relax for once in your life.”

The same hand now danced along and begun raking through the hair at the back of your head, gently readjusting every time he came across a slight tangle to not jostle you as he did so. Your nails mindlessly scratched very lightly along his neck and what you could reach of his collarbone. “We both know one of those two things I am abysmal at.”

Grey eyes bright as he looked at you, Jon gave another half smile only a little softer to match the genuity behind the rest. “You're right. I can lose my mind just looking at you too long.” He laughed more freely the second you rolled your eyes, making your own cheeks warm at the sound. It felt like you so rarely got to hear him laugh anymore. There was rarely reason for it. Saying your name gently, he prompted you to look at him. “Everything you've been through, sometimes I think you forget that you've barley had a chance to breathe since getting away from them.”

He wasn't wrong. It hadn't even reached a year since you escaped that day with Theon, and yet it felt as if more then a lifetime had passed between you all. Many lifetimes had passed for you and Jon especially.

It was one thing after another and the only time in between them were a day or two before something else. Biting your tongue as your eyes narrowed lost away in thought, one of your hands instinctively reached up to run along the facial hair scratching at his jaw, while the other slipped right down and pressed over his heart.

Only months ago you had stepped into the Ice Cells of Castle Black and traced over the wounds in Jon's chest. Dead and cold long enough he had turned tints of blue creeping into his skin. If that was months, then the Twins felt like decades. “Hard to remember that sometimes.”

Quiet between you for a moment, you instead couldn't move past the thought. It lingered a second too long and now took up space in your consciousness that couldn't be ignored. Slowly and deliberately, you had begun the process of unlacing the shirt covering his chest. Shaking your head as he spoke your name in a question, to just let you work.

Not all the way, but you opened it enough that a hand could slip inside of the material and trace along his chest. Pulling back more naturally as you did so, you exposed the scars littered about. They looked truly just as gruesome as when they were hours fresh. You weren't sure you'd ever be able to look at them, and not feel as sick and horrified as you did the first time.

Your eyes far away as you traced them, narrowing in sharpness following the path of each and feeling how they both had not healed, but seemed to just exist outside of him. You could feel the skin around your wounds but not when one touched the scars itself, and you imagined it was the same as you did so now.

Only feeling your touch when your fingers jumped from one scar to the next and never when tracing their red path. Glancing up suddenly, you found the ones by his eye. One faint and white now as it sat at the top and bottom of his eye only visible if you were close enough. The other, sometimes it was easy to forget about. You had been used to seeing Jon with blood and scratches on him, but then there was this one.

Reaching up, you traced along it as your face could have come off as cold or angry to any who weren't the man in front of you. It still sat red. It was red and painful looking now but didn't heal since, long and curved along the side of his face by his other eye. That one wasn't healing either. You still had marks from an arrow lodged in your upper back and by your shoulder, even though at the time, you didn't even register it.

They hit you, but you barley comprehended it. You had barley comprehended your stomach, as you looked up at Robb before collapsing to the ground as you grew freezing cold in seconds.

“Why us?” Jon watched you closely, his quiet speaking the question for him. “Why only us that came back? No one else came back, that woman was trying to do some ritual to accomplish it..but we..no one did anything for us. We just..woke up..” Your hand still sat on the scar beside his eye, voice far and lost. “I didn't understand it then, and I still don't.”

Grabbing your hand for himself, Jon pressed his lips to your palm before holding it over the mark right on his heart. “Maybe we're not meant to.” Your eyes dropped, but Jon moved the arm around your waist back so he could tilt your chin back up gently to look at him. “Everyone wants to be special, or look to someone else like their special. But you and I both know coming back like this doesn't feel like that. I'm tired and walking around worried I came back so angry I'm going to lose it one day, you came back and think that you're the one everyone wants to lose it on. Coming back didn't make you and me some chosen ones, it just brought us back different.”

Your free hand continued it's path, tracing gently along his jaw and thumb brushing briefly over his bottom lip before you relented. Leaning forward to press your lips to his, leaving but a light peck that lingered as your held hands over his heart tightened together but did not leave one another. Resting your forehead against his you ran that hand along his jaw once more. “Says the one who can warg into his own direwolf.”

“That's not exclusive to me.” A small grin on his face as you almost shook your head at him.

Both of you sat in the quiet for a little while, nothing but the crackling of fire to accompany you until you spoke up once more. The dry tone returning to your voice. “By the way, your grace, you in fact did get a proposal of marriage.”

The swiftness in which Jon pretended to find interest had you drop your expression so flat it made him laugh quite a lot. Standing up from him, you pulled your dress from his attempted grasp to yank you back to him, with a childish glare. “If you're so interested, my King, go right ahead. Shame you won't have much time though, your new betrothed is rather old in her years. Bearing children might be something of a challenge, I'm afraid.”

If he had expected someone to know something of that secret, Howland Reed certainly did not think it would be the Queen in the North. Accosting him in his quarters the evening after he arrived in Winterfell for the first time in decades. But the moment you had knocked on his door, you all but barged in and locked the door behind you. Walking in towards the fireplace before turning to him as your hands braced on the wooden table in front of it.

Looking up at him as he tried to speak, you chose first. “You saved Lord Stark's life during the rebellion. Why?” Howland looked taken back for a moment when you repeated yourself but with much more sternness behind. “Why save his life? Why were you fighting to the death in the first place that day?”

Squinting in curiosity at you, he certainly played it safe. “I'd expect you know the story as well as any, we had gone there to rescue his sister, and the Kingsguard keeping her there did not take kindly to us accomplishing that.”

Once more you asked why, your eyes dark and your nerves racing like fire in your blood. “Rhaegar Targaryean took her there at the start of the rebellion, but by the time you had reached it? He was dead, the Mad King was dead. There was no one left to follow. Why fight to your death to keep an already dying teenage girl locked in a tower she can't escape from?”

Walking up to the other side of the table, Howland rested his hands more calmly at the top of the chair across you. His voice low but collected. “Kingsguard uphold their vows to a fault, even when it goes against protecting the innocent. He ordered them to keep her there, and they were going to follow it.”

The room was painfully silent before you shook your head. “She was dying, she couldn't run, she couldn't escape, there was no way to save her by then why not just let her brother come through and see her one last time? Why keep them away when the ones who gave them that order are dead, and it wouldn't make a difference to let him in the room to see his dying little sister?”

There was a pause in the man's eyes that you didn't miss for a second. It was a painful subject, you suspected few had ever asked in an aggressive manner as such before. Not to him at the least.

“If I could tell you why they would not allow it, I would. But I can't-”

“Can't you?” Standing up with an inhale you paced mindlessly deeper in the room before spinning to face him, arms crossing in front of you. “Lyanna was dying, you all would have found out eventually, it doesn't make sense to act as if they could hide that forever.” Your eyes found his, and he didn't move an inch. “Unless Lyanna wasn't the one in that tower they were trying to hide.”

The tension could be cut thick, it was brutal as both parties gave nothing away in their expressions almost in expert. “How did you-”

“I dreamt it.” You knew to a man like him, he'd take that without explanation but it sounded so silly as it came from your mouth you instantly stepped forward to justify it in ramblings. “I saw something in my dreams, more than once I saw it and it all kept leading me to that day and I never quite could figure it out until..” Sighing out, you leaned against the table with your back turned against it.

Your voice was hardly a whisper. Looking over to Howland he stood in stillness watching with any breathe hardly passing through him. “Everyone used to say Arya looked like Lyanna, but in truth she just looked enough like Ned that being a girl made the connection in their minds. But that also means if Ned looked enough like Lyanna that his own daughter was similar in appearance to her..then he would have an easy time passing off Lyanna's son as his own, wouldn't he?”

Once more he didn't speak, and you knew he wouldn't until you stripped this secret down to it's raw truth no matter how much you hated it. So you looked right at Howland Reed, giving him one more chance. “Who is Jon's father?”

His only response was but a whisper, “Ned was the man who raised him, who loved him. That's the father that matters.”

But it made you upset. It wasn't just about that, it wasn't a doubt of love. It was about a truth that had plagued Jon his entire life that was the core of so much of what happened. Turning to him, you spoke just as quiet. “Jon's wanted to know who his mother was his whole life. He's never felt without a father, he knows he had a father who loved him. But he deserves to know who his mother was.” Stepping closer your voice dropped more. “I know she begged him to promise to keep him safe, but look around. What of his life would put him at such risk anymore if he knows? It'll hurt, but it's always hurt him not knowing.”

Howland was dreadfully serious, “Ned kept that secret for almost twenty five years and he died with it. I've kept it now almost thirty, we did it to protect him. What happens if people knew? We could have done anything. Do what was done with the Mad Kings youngest, ship him off to Essos. Hid him somewhere in the realm with a no one family where he'd never find out, have him raised somewhere in the North away from Catelyn and her children but he didn't.” His whisper was angry as it was upset in your eyes. “He took that child in and raised him as his own son, because he loved him as his own son. With him, Ned knew without a doubt he could be safe.”

It choked in your throat, turning away as you ran a hand over your mouth to force it back down before you spoke. A sick memory coming back up and it felt dizzying to know. It was never just about right or wrong, it wasn't just about honour.

“You'll dishonour yourself forever if you do this.”

You almost didn't say it but it came out of its own accord. “Robert would have killed him.”

Looking to Howland, he stepped closer much less defence in his posture as you both ended up sitting down at the table to steady you on your uneasy feet now. “She was dying, covered in blood gods know how they had so little care that they left her there like that. He was no more then a week old when we got there, so she had to spend a week with her newborn son. Knowing the whole time she was going to die, and not knowing until that final day what would happen to him when she did.” It choked in Howland's voice too, a long time likely since he thought of what happened in that room.

Finding his eyes you recounted that day in the small council chamber, what the news was, what Roberts reaction was and Ned's too. “Gods it was never about honour, it wasn't about what was right. He stood there listening to his closest friend prove that even now if he found out the truth, it wouldn't make a difference.”

“Why do you think he let him join the Night's Watch?” You looked away from him, something choking in your throat. “His family was about to be deeply intertwined with the royal family again, and letting him go to the wall meant he was as far from anyone who would know or find out as could be. He was doing what he thought was best to protect him. That's what he always tried to do, he loved that boy until his last day I can promise you that.”

It was quiet in the room, and what you said next broke that as if your whisper was a shout. “I'm going to tell him.” Standing up, Howland followed coming to your side instantly in protest but you shook your head. “He needs to know-”

“We've kept this secret for decades to protect him, what was this all for if we just-”

Your voice however, wavered in more shattering upset rather then the anger you wished it sounded as instead. “Jon deserves to know the truth. He deserves to know he had a mother who loved him, and he deserves to know why she isn't here.”

Trying to move in your path, Howland kept you from reaching the door. “Twenty five years Ned let people think he was unfaithful to his wife to keep this a secret, let Jon be raised thinking he was the one who caused that smear on his honour.” Trying to keep you at arms bay, “Ned Stark did not do this to spend all of it in vain-”

But you shook from his grasp in an anger. It wasn't about them anymore, any of them. “This may have been Ned's secret, but it's Jons life.”

You hadn't been in the crypts since burying Rickon. You hadn't really been in Winterfell long enough to spend much time of any in here since that night. But you knew the path without any effort into figuring it out, or even paying attention.

Which you couldn't do, not now. Walking down here close to the ground where beneath the castle floors laid hot springs which kept the halls as warm as could be in the winter. You could feel your heart racing and your head filled with a lightness that made you dizzy but you had no choice now. It wasn't about you.

It was cruelly fitting, that Jon was down in the crypts to see his father as you walked to him. The truth was going to be all around him with no one but you to force it onto him and you hated it. You wished you could let Jon be ignorant and happier for it, but he deserved better then that. Everything he has been through, you wanted him to have the truth of his life.

But as you approached, Jon turned to the sound of your footsteps. Your name gentle on his lips and it carved a horrible agony in your lungs that stole your remaining breathe. Coming up to him, you paused as you took one last look before you ruined it. Again.

Hair still pulled back from the day, and not quite kicking the habit of his once position, the leathers and fabrics on him were sparser then before but dipped in black. A Snow, a Northerner more then any you'd ever met, and that was who he was inside, but you had to say it anyways. It was the right thing to do, but it didn't feel it.

You didn't notice you hadn't said anything until Jon gently cupped the sides of your cheeks, tilting you up to look at him, grey eyes bright and soft that made you want to cry to shatter them. His voice was a gentle rasp as he leaned down to you more, “Darling, talk to me. What happened?”

Looking up at him, you could only think in retrospective, that maybe you should have stolen one last kiss. You were already forgetting what it felt like in the days since. Sitting at a table inside of a tavern in Barrowton, looking across to Gendry certainly felt like another lifetime away from that night in the crypt however.

Tilting your head in question, you drew the sound of the letters out. “Satin?” Narrowing at you back you opened your mouth slightly to guide him into mouthing the fake name you had so he could say it out loud in the ruse. Keep it up as long as you two were in public at least.

“Mya? Would say I almost didn't recognize you, but think we both know that's a lie.” Pointing down at Olly he asked, “Whose this?” A suspicion on his face that you easily dismissed with a wave of your hand in his direction.

Your tone trying much more to fall into something a little less proper, a little less practised in formality then your father taught you for in public again. “Let's call him my ward. Ward this is Satin, Satin this is my ward, Olly.”

Leaning with a narrowed whisper, the boy asked why you got a fake name but he didn't, but it was Gendry who answered for you as he sat down. “Beacuse your a kid, and no one cares about the name of some kid in the middle of the North.”

Looking at you, and you back, there was a strange moment between you, where you two almost laughed simultaneously. Choosing instead to lean your arms against the table, “So, I heard my father tried to kill you. Glad we have something in common.”

Olly watched the tense silence, before watching in even more confusion as it was that which made the pair of you give a disbelieving laugh. A ridiculous set of events and ruin brought you here finally, but you at least knew one thing so far.

Gendry thankfully seemed to have inherited Robert Baratheon's ability to laugh in the most bizarre or uncomfortable situations. Ordering something for him to eat, you had a feeling the three of you were going to have a long night ahead.

Perhaps it should have been weirder, how easy it was to talk to him. But also, in a way it wasn't totally dissimilar to the way in which you got along with Renly. An easier going personality without as much smugness that made you want to slap your uncle sometimes, that was a major difference in a positive way. It was clear Gendry wasn't looking at things in terms of the life he could've had but rather the one he always did anyways.

“Nothing left for me in Kings Landing, tried figuring out where to go. Spent some time on and off ships anyways since, finding work, failing to find work. Not much out there.” Leaning forward, your gloves taken off as you had tried to find yourself more settled as you had asked him about how he even got this far North in the first place.

Glancing up, noting it getting at least somewhat darker out in the back of your head. “How bad are we talking?” Your mind trying to stretch all the way to the Riverlands and knowing you were simply without reach and even if you could who was left there to care who you used to be.

Shrugging, “Kept away from it mostly.” Biting your tongue you glanced a few times to the night sky out trying to keep the thoughts back again as he continued. “Anywhere that isn't at war is just poor and hungry. Think up here is the only place anyone has anything even sort of together.”

Arm crossing over the table, you narrowed your eyes at a spot of nothing in thought. “Wasn't easy getting here, only have barley begun even..” Looking up, it was as if both knew a conversation to happen but not here in the public view. “It's rather late, especially for this one.” Olly protesting as you nudged him as if a young child.

“If you've got nowhere planned to say, I have a spare room.” Gutting his chin outside to an Inn nearby explaining, “As long as I do the lady there free work, she lets me keep a room. Knowing how to smash metal with a hammer comes in handy anywhere turns out.”

The night was far cooler then when you had entered. The sky black and stars shining above as if none of the world turmoiled below them. Wrapping your cloak around you more tightly, and without a second of your own notice forcing Olly to do the same as if fussing over him. The air showing your breathe with every step. “How in seven hells do you get used to this?”

Glancing to you specifically, you shrugged. “Spent half my life here, either you get used to the cold or you complain and everyone is annoyed for it.” That glare wasn't meaningful but you didn't pass by how easily he looked at you in a familiar bantering as if you hadn't met more then just once over four years ago.

Teeth almost shaking as he walked, “Well I'm not used to it. So you best get used to me complaining about it.”

As Gendry made his way to the Inn front, you paused as you stepped right before the doors threshold, a strange feeling making something in your spine crawl up and leave a tingling behind. People were walking and passing but nothing that stood out and yet you watched anyways. As if sensing eyes on you, but there was nothing in your sights, and you walked in regardless.

“You're being silly.”

An almost indignant tone came over Sam as he looked at Gilly with a look he hoped was serious. “I am not, I think we have good reason to be careful. What we have?”

Giving him a doubtful look, Gilly turned to Little Sam who was now actively taking things from her own bowl of stew and putting it in his mouth. It had been a long trip, and just getting to the North itself had taken its tole on the small boy. “Who are the maesters going to send? Or know where we are?” Trying to feed her son now instead of letting him run rampant, she then gave Sam a look. “You should eat too.”

Grimacing, the sheer idea of it now made him unwell. The journey to Oldtown the first time was no pleasant experience, but this time it was a smaller ship on even rockier waters. The moment they sailed up the smaller rivers to where they were to stop in Barrowton, Sam had to all but put the texts he took with him on the other side of their small room he was so sure he was going to throw up on them.

Now they sat with their small amount of things at his side, or would stay in their room as long as they were here. The small set of tables sat on the bottom floor of the Inn, not many were around as the night grew colder and people settled in. Not that cold bothered them the same way, not where they met.

“If I eat now, I'll be getting up in three minutes to bring it back out as soon as it hits my stomach.” He glanced with a playful glare at Little Sam, who when catching the look playfully gave one back. “I wish I was as good as you are, napping whenever we set sail. Would save myself a lot of trouble.”

For the most part they ignored everyone else, they weren't staying here long. Enough to rest, and make a plan to get to Winterfell easy as possible. It was weird to think about, Sam had never seen it before and never thought he'd have reason too. But now, he was heading there not just for one person he knew, but to request an audience.

Glancing back to Gilly, Sam leaned in a bit as if keeping a secret, when in truth everyone around him obviously was entirely aware of who Jon was. “Hard to imagine that he's King of this, all of this. How do we even think that happened? He turned down King Stannis's offer of being Lord of Winterfell, turned down being made a Stark but now he's King in the North. You think he wears a crown?”

Little Sam laughed, trying to get out half decent sentences in his young age and on top of being just tired enough to not swallow his food before doing so. “He'd look funny,”

Gilly turned him more to face her with a grin, “Do you even remember what he looks like?” Her hands poking at her son playfully. The small little family sat there, minding their own when the front door opened to let the cold wind blow in. Just enough that mists of snow flickered about the floor.

Two dark haired figures walked in, one looking more at an ease while the other had sharp eyes looking around with a more stern expression which matched the cold outside. A shorter, younger one came in close to the woman, but instinctively Sam drew his attention elsewhere. But, just as fast as Sam glanced away, he looked back suddenly with his own sharper gaze. But the third person he had looked back for now was turned with his back to them and a thick cloak covering most of him.

Gilly had to call his name twice before Sam looked back to her, as she asked what was he looking at. But Sam watched the now empty staircase as they disappeared down the hall, eyes blinking heavily as he shook them out. “Been at sea too long. Think we could all do with some sleep.”

Too many nights with his head overboard, and Sam was already starting to see things.

“He seems attached to you.” Glancing to the now closed door where Olly slept, both you and Gendry shared a more sullen glance. “Just something I've noticed in the whole two hours I've known you.”

Shrugging, you turned from the sight with more down trodden of a tone then before only hinted with a tinge of amusement. “If we include the first time we met, we can make it a whole two hours and three minutes.” The chuckle shared was genuine from him, not from you and he easily picked that up. A long beat passed before you turned the mood down significantly, a weight heard in your throat. “I almost don't want to ask how you found out the truth.”

It shifted in him as well, something more serious and uncomfortable to think on. “Where do I even start? Where I left Kings Landing the first time, or when the red woman showed up.” Your eyes flew over to him with a dark tint as your jaw clenched, and you felt that sinking inside you. “I ended up in the Riverlands, was with the Brotherhood Without Banners and they told me I could stay on with them, serve Lord-”

Interrupting him, a hand waving out as your face twisted in confusion. “Maybe we should begin where I had last actually seen you, because I feel as if I've missed a few key details.”

It was simple, explaining how his master got sick of him, sold him to the Nights Watch and left him on the Kingsroad. That was until he mentioned the Gold Cloaks. “They showed up, came looking for a bastard named Gendry. Yoren threatened them, told them to piss off and they left. Until more came in the middle of the night a while later..killed a bunch of people and took the rest of us hostage to Harrenhal.”

Everything as Lord Tywin Lannister showed up, and you felt a sickness in your blood trying not to think of that night. Explaining that they had escaped when you once more interrupted. Asking when this all had happened. Trying to estimate a time, you had begun doing your own thoughts in your head and you not in any way liked the implications that you came close too. By the time Tywin had left, they escaped soon after and you realized how close you had missed him by.

Were you already on the road to Harrenhal when this happened? How close to Edmure's attack did they come? “I don't know how she did it, but Arya managed to get this Jaqen fellow to help us-”

“Arya?” If your blood cooled before it ran fast and dizzying now.

Nodding, he seemed to think perhaps you knew but judging by the slightly agape of your mouth and wide eyes in disbelief, he realized that no, maybe it made sense you didn't know about this. “Yoren was taking her to Winterfell, disguised as a boy, or trying to at least. Convinced this guy Jaqen to help us and we escaped, ended up running into the Brotherhood and in turn ran into The Hound.”

Your arms came up to the table between you, resting your forehead in your palm as your elbow sat perched. The world spun too much then and now, too much here and there and names you never thought you'd hear of again. The last you had seen Arya was the morning you were arrested, she had been upset she was leaving, but still otherwise was just a girl. But this tale Gendry spun wasn't one that would have let her stay that way.

No one had heard from her, and every mention from the capitol didn't include her and you, Robb, and Catelyn all didn't like to talk about what you felt that implied. Most seemed to presume her dead, and you had none the reason to think otherwise, and yet you sat with a pull at your heart that she had been so close.

She was so close to her family, Robb came so close to getting to her and now it was all for nothing again. “Anyways, the red woman showed up, and they sold me to her. Dragged me off in a cage and I never saw Arya again. Don't know where she is, or if she's still alive. All I know is how mad she was when the woman came and took me. Not that things went well after that either.”

You two were there for a while, a back and forth of what happened, what the red woman did and what your father almost let her do until Ser Davos was the only one who did the right thing. It was nothing short of a miracle Gendry would even want to try and find you after all of that. The quiet burned around you both, and there was little left in either of you to say.

You lacking the ability to have words you knew to say, and Gendry used up the remains of ones he had all spoken. Nothing meaningful at least. “Said something about how there's power in our blood, whatever that means.”

It burned under your dress, the scar. There was something in your blood, blood from Kings as you sat alive with a wound so fatal you faded in but minutes. But how would you even tell him that? Tell anyone that. No one understood, no one but one, and you had no idea if he even still cared. Or you were just too much of a coward to want to know.

“So what now?” Gendry meeting your eyes, finding a purposely colder and stiff look giving little away in your own. “You're in the North, what do you do now? Stay here or what?”

Shrugging, he leaned back in his seat. Glancing to the window shining bright before speaking with a casualness you wished you had ever possessed. “Don't know. Most of my life I've just been dragged from one thing to another. Never really had much choice all on my own before now. Think I'm just trying to enjoy what that feels like for the first time.” You nodded absentmindedly before he gestured to you. “What about you? Queen in the North all the way out here pretending to be some commoner like me, what's your plan?”

Nothing of how you were here was like you, but what else did you know anymore? Who were you but a liar, and liars don't get to have detailed life plans as you had done so before. You had no answer, and it seemed he filled in the blanks for you.

“Maybe you could try being me for once. Just do whatever comes your way until something else drags you away from that. Not very Queen like but it's not like you care about looking like one.” Your eyes narrowed in a playful glare tinged with an exhaustion as he chuckled to himself. “Came all this way to meet me, we might as well stay here a bit and find out if we hate each other or not.”

You almost laughed, and he at least caught the intent in your eye. “Won't take long I imagine. Not like my side of this family is known for our charm.” Your eyebrows raised in a passive amusement as his brightened with more of a nodding grin. “Though, I can't say Robert was exactly the perfect image of an admirable man.”

As you stood up, Gendry followed with a question of his own. “Is that meant to be mocking me?”

You shrugged one shoulder, “Do you drink a lot?” He shook his head no, “Spend a lot of time with whores?” The shake of his head that time was a fervent no. Waving a hand in the air before letting it drop to your side, you relented. “Already have two things more going for you then Robert did.”

It was quiet again for a bit, at least until like children you found things both to be petty about. Gendry it seemed, wasted no time in finding ways to make fun of you for with your title. “I would be humbled for the Queen to take my only remaining bed. Sleeping on the floor would do me a great honour.”

Throwing a small pillow at him, which he caught with ease, you shook your head as you passed him by, moving towards the main room away from both chambers. “I slept on the floor of a dungeon for six months, I think I can manage one more night without a bed.”

Gendry turned with a point. “Is everyone in our family this insufferable?” When you smirked, he tried not to as well. “At least we're consistent.”

As the night progressed and more silence fell over the quarters of the Inn, you could at least find any semblance of solace that this truth of family did not destroy the only good thing you had in your life, not yet anyways.

Sam could not figure out why the trio he saw the night before was still fresh on his mind. It was as if in another life they were people he had met, when Sam had hardly been anywhere in Barrowton yet beyond the docks and the path to the Inn. Even now as Gilly and Little Sam were beside him, as she was enjoying the sights as she always managed too, Sam was still thinking about it.

He could see closer to the water front, two figures. Backs to him, but one with long dark hair against a thin cloak which reminded him of before until he realized it was in fact them. The boy was next to her, and the third of the group was nowhere to be seen as of yet. He hadn't wanted to seem as if spying was what he was doing, but as Gilly was distracted, and he couldn't help himself.

Closer, but far enough away a man like Sam appeared no out of the ordinary, he could barley hear voices. The boy sounded familiar, but not recognizable through the fading distance and the woman was closer anyways. He was sure he had not recognized hers, but she spoke more refined then her appearance would speak of.

“Have you never been this close to the open water before?” The boy shook his head no, and the girl nudged his shoulders for a moment, leaning more against the stone. “This is nothing, you should see how the sea looks on a ship. Only water for miles, like it never ends.”

“Maybe it doesn't.” The boy still didn't peel his eyes from the view. “My father used to say the Sunset Sea never ends, no one's ever survived a journey out there.”

What sounded like a smile could be heard on her voice, even from where Sam strained. “Is that what sounds adventurous to you? Well let me know when you plan dying at sea, I'll pay for the ship myself if you are so inclined.” Another pause between them, Sam wasn't sure what the boy said, he was rather quiet against the sounds of the town around them, but she once more spoke far clearer, making her the one Sam could listen too. “You follow along the river long enough, you'll reach out to Blazewater Bay and from there the sea is yours to follow as much as you want. Maybe you'll end up on the other side of the world eventually.”

He said something and the woman laughed fairly freely. “I don't know if I have ever heard something sound so amusingly forced coming from your mouth before. But I'll have to pass on that opportunity. I have no interest in seeing that far West, or East for that matter. Westeros is large enough as it is for how little I've seen of it.”

“Sam?” Turning his head, Gilly has rejoined him with a question bright in her eyes. “What are you doing?” All three of them looked the way Sam did, the pair speaking too quiet to catch either of their voices now.

Tilting his head, he wondered if he had spent too much time around Maesters and the open sea. He was starting to read into things which didn't exist. He had too much on his plate to start that now, he would have too much to look into anyways when they got there, part of him still hoped he would be allowed to stay, just for a little while.

Looking back to Gilly, he shook his head. “Thought one of them looked familiar, is all. Are you ready to go back, yet or is there more you want to see?”

Thinking to herself for a moment, she adjusted Little Sam in her arms, before both of them glanced back to each other with a more amused look. “I think Sam here might start getting cranky if we're out here much longer.” The poor boy looked tired, spending that much time so young at sea must not be good for a young one his age.

Trying to look as if he was fine, Sam smiled as he didn't buy it. Running a hand over Little Sam's bright blonde hair, he leaned in. “Then how about we find you and your mother something to eat before she gets cranky right with you.”

Indignant as she was amused, Gilly protested. “I do not get cranky.”

Sam could only laugh as they begun to walk. “Oh, yes you do.” But it was then he looked over the closer they walked. The perfect moment did Sam look and the boy turned around to the town and Sam stopped in an instant.

Looking at one another, Sam knew he recognized him. Nudging Gilly, he whispered as his eyes kept on the boys, now wide as it registered to him as well. “Gilly isn't that-” Sam had no inclination as to why, but he looked not in a register of familiarity as they parted was of, but something fearful.

Her own eyes narrowed in confused recognition. “What is he doing all the way out here?” Too right a question Sam thought, what was all the way in Barrowton a place Olly just so happened to be in? With a pair he didn't recognize and certainly given a woman was by his side, not from the Nights Watch either.

Both had approached that direction, but Olly had turned to the woman by then. Speaking in low tones, her head turned around and a dark, narrowed look came about her eyes as she whipped it back in whispering tones. Back and forth they went until she turned to face as they approached.

All but forcing Olly to stand behind her protective stance. Whatever they were whispering about, it left Olly more on edge then Sam had seen the boy in a very long time.

Sam knew they were not ones looking threatening, but the woman glared at them as if they posed one all the same. Regardless, Sam asked, “Olly, what are you doing all the way out here?”

But he glanced over to the woman, who kept him behind her without question. As she spoke without wavering or question, there was more then just something refined in her tone, there was something that of a stern authority as she only asked a question in reply. “How do you know him?”

Head tilting back a back, Sam was a bit on air of confused as Olly seemed tense and her even moreso. It was a strange way to see him again. Sam trying to explain himself as not confronting as possible, but he barely got half a sentence out before she struck another question. “I, he came to Castle Black, we met-”

“What's a man of the Night's Watch doing in Barrowton then?”

Truly he, Gilly and Little Sam couldn't possibly look that much of a threat. But as she offered up no information, Sam realized he wasn't sure what to say either. After everything it took to get all the way North again, he had not prepared such an explanation for that wasn't the only truth he thought he'd need to share. So caught up in where he needed to go, forgetting what he'd tell people on the way. “Olly, is everything alright? You know this woman-”

“You think he's with me against his will?” More taken back, Gilly beside him was quiet as she was also watching the woman with a curiosity that she seemed to not appreciate. “He is with me under my protection, no less, no worse.”

It was then Gilly stepped forward, trying her own hand with a quiet but lulling sound to her voice, “Look, maybe we should start over, we meant no harm. Just wanted to make sure he was okay.”

Olly's voice was short but Sam wasn't sure why. He seemed defensive in a fearful way, not aggressive as the woman was. “I'm fine. I was sent here to look for someone, and Mya was helping me. She's my friend.” Easing up a bit it seemed, she moved so her arm wrapped back to pull him more into her side, still not quite as openly hostile but refusing to ease up on her distrust.

Sam paid no mind right away. “Sent by who? Jon- well I suppose not, if he isn't Lord Commander anymore. Whose there if he's King now? Oh, I'd hate for it to be Ser Alliser.” Something uneasy sat between the two of them that was hard to understand. But Gilly once more spoke up.

Readjusting her hold of her son before looking around and back. “We just wanted to know if he was okay, we meant no harm. Right, Sam?”

Sam, looked at her almost offended for a moment as if that thought never crossed his mind. That he could look the one who was threatening. “What?” Before whipping back to the woman, Mya. “No, of course not. I just..I know what you've been through, Olly. I just wanted to know why you were all the way out here alone.”

“Well, he's not alone.”

He hadn't answered why if he was from the Nights Watch why he was here and neither had she explained what she was doing there with Olly, and yet the tension was broken by a growing familiar figure walking up almost the most confused. The dark haired man Sam saw enter the Inn first the night before. He spoke far quicker, and with a much more casual attitude. “I leave you alone for a few hours and you get yourself into trouble?” Their eyes almost glared at one another before he turned around to face Sam with a far more simple air of apology. “Sorry about my sister, I got our mothers charm, she got our fathers attitude.” Turning to her with an amused glint in his eye, “Just so talented at making friends everywhere you go, aren't you?”

It was hard to tell if the look in her eye was wanting to shove her brother, or tell him to shut up. A close tie it seemed, that won draw in doing nothing but glare. Sam looked between them both, before turning to the two beside him. “You're right, we should start over. I'm Sam, this is Gilly.”

Gilly nodding to the young one in her arms, “And you can call this one Little Sam.”

If anyone, which was everyone, was surprised at how easily Mya lightened up, it was tenfold as she gave a little wave to Little Sam, who gave a shy wave back that had her smile gently. Her brother directing attention back. “I'm Satin, this is my sister Mya. We're just helping Olly here out is all, meant no trouble for the Nights Watch or anything. Gods know it's cold enough here without being forced the way up there for getting in your way.”

Gilly looked at her curiously, and still she and Sam could tell Mya didn't like it one bit. But despite the distrust, she ignored the look in Gilly's eye, and came up with the suggestion anyways.

Mya's green eyes more then once had glanced to how closely they kept their things on them, and Sam could only hope they didn't think her a thief or anything. He'd keep their things close no matter what, it was just not simple to explain that. Little Sam now sat on the opposite of the table to her, as all six of the group had agreed to sit down and perhaps start over a little less hostile. Olly stuck by her side, deathly quiet but calm.

“I'm not sure there's anything nice I'd say about Bravvos. Crowded, and it feels like every other person is judging you knowing you don't fit in.” Somehow the discussion had turned to what places they all had seen and without revealing much details as to why he was there, Sam found himself going on about their time in Bravvos.

Sipping at the ale in the mug given to him, Satin tilted his head a bit. “Anything's better then Flea Bottom. Crowded, dirty, everyone's poor. Half the nobles there are too afraid to go to the sept without protection like we're going to attack them at random or something.”

Gilly asked if that was where they both were from, and for a moment they glanced at one another in a matching expression he couldn't figure out before Mya answered for them. “Was. Sometimes it felt though like I'd go years without seeing you, how busy we both were down there.”

Not quite realized at the table, the degree of lying happening on all sides and yet it wasn't being even slightly addressed.

“So is he yours?” Nodding to Little Sam and then to Sam himself, Satin gestured with a pointed look. “I mean he's named after you, just wondering why someone from the Nights Watch is allowed to have a kid.” Mya whipped her head over in a glare, making him raise his hands back slightly in defence. “Just making conversation, not like you're doing anything about that one.”

Sam however, just chuckled. “No, it's alright. It isn't normal, I know but-”

“He's not breaking his vows.” Olly looking up, glancing between he and Mya. “Our vows say we will take no wife and father no children. So really, you haven't done anything wrong, right?”

Something on the air of relieved came over Sam, nodding as he looked at the two with him. “I'm not his blood father, so I don't think that's actually breaking a rule. Besides, I'd guess there are a few brothers who probably have one or two somewhere and don't know it. The amount of them who used to sneak off to Mole's Town for a little sally on the side,”

Leaning a bit forward, her eyes narrowed at him almost in mocking. “Sally on the side?”

Saying he was trying to be discreet in front of the child, Olly ironically spoke up with a more boy like ingidnance. “I'm thirteen, not seven. And I do know what a brothel is.”

At the same time amusingly enough, in a flat tone both siblings simply said “You shouldn't.”

His hands smacking down on his legs, as Mya turned back. Her question was innocuous, or so she had thought. “I was wondering, if you're going back to Castle Black why come through Barrowton? Don't most go through to Eastwatch by the Sea since the path from there is straight?”

Sam and Gilly glanced at each other, “Well, we need to make a stop first. And it was easier to do it getting on the Kingsroad.” Her brows narrowed in question, and only her posture slightly tensed as she found such an answer. “We only stopped here to rest, and find an easy way to stop at Winterfell first.”

“Why?”

Mya was blunt, not rude but didn't quite mince her words trying to get to the point of what someone was saying. In a strange way, in fact, in a guilty way, Sam almost briefly had thought to himself that Jon would like her. “I have..information that I think the King in the North should be made aware of.”

Her quiet afterwards though, spoke something odd in and of itself.

It wasn't until evening fell upon the town, Sam and Gilly spoke amongst themselves, did it come up. Glancing to Mya, Satin, and Olly all in a smaller circle discussing something did she turn with a curious look back to Sam. “Doesn't she remind you of someone?”

Sam looked with furrowed eyes but from here the girl had turned enough he struggled to see her face from anything but the side. “I don't know, I can't really see that much detail from all the way over here. Why who does she remind you of?”

Confident in her voice, she also had no way to know. “Shireen. The princess, King Stannis's daughter.”

Sam squinted from where he sat, only to relent with ease. “Oh, you're sort of right. She does look sort of like Shireen. Of course, unless King Stannis has a pair of twins he doesn't know about.” The two of them however, just looked back at Mya again. It was odd, to Gilly, she really looked strikingly like Shireen just as her twin brother in his way looked like King Stannis.

Sam however, was distracted thinking of something else entirely. He hadn't seen Jon in over a year by now. What happened to make him a King? How did that relate to him fighting against the Army of the Dead? Was Jon coping with you being gone any better, or was it worse? Living in the castle he both grew up in and fell in love with you in. It was only a matter of time before he found out, he supposed.

Sam just hoped that Jon would understand why he came all this way to see him. Glad though, that he'd be seeing him in Winterfell and not Castle Black right away, where he knew Ser Alliser likely would be ready to take charge and demean Sam for just one more thing he failed at.

Much later into the night, it was a fire that started the events. Rumblings outside that grew until they became yells. Many wandered out into the cold of the night only to see a glow of orange and red light the sky up as a building in the distance was engulfed in flames. All walked out the doors to see what appeared from nowhere, only for that of arrows to fly out.

In the watching confusion, many were hit and warnings were yelled of “Raiders,” and it was from the opposite sides of the flames they came out. Using it as a distraction to sneak from the dark behind and screams yelled as blood was spilled.

Sam had grabbed Gilly, her clutching Little Sam to her chest and taken back by the sudden onslaught of chaos. Pulling her into an alcove, he held Heartsbane as if he was confident enough to use it. Not so far away, he could see the girl, Mya, grabbing Olly imploring him to hide, and Olly protesting. “I'm not lea-”

Grabbing him by the upper arms, she seemed to give him one firm shake, “You hide, understand? Hide,” Pushing him to the side of the street did Sam and Gilly grab him. The later pulling the struggling Olly to her front as she held Little Sam tight in the other.

Eyes wide, Sam watched as Mya did what he wished he could. Finding a dagger on her person, he watched her fight with such a practiced ease it was no fluke. Her move to attack and defend in a way commoners didn't know how to, or shouldn't.

Pulling it out did it slice through a mans neck, Mya then turned and dodged another before shoving that same blade into the back of his neck. Fire blazing that drew people to an area, and men everywhere that appeared to only be here to cause chaos and death as Sam felt his heart begin to pound. Fighting up close in one on one combat wasn't how he killed a Thenn, and this time he felt the fear that he knew Gilly and Little Sam were nowhere safe if he left to fight here and now.

Brave men of the North did what they always did though, fight to protect their people. Swords, axes, blades, many came out and some were slaughtered while others cut down those coming at them.

More then once did he watch Satin and Mya both yank the unarmed and innocents back behind them, and sneak up to run the blade through those attacking them. Turning in time, did one man almost get the best of the girl, pushing him back enough before she could get hit. Flipping the blade in her hand, she moved faster then he did, only to confuse him enough as she almost spun to duck under his thrusting arm.

His body turning to her, only to have it shoved deep into his eye, splattering it across the side of Myas face. If this was one thing she could do that was impressive, as her eyes caught Sam she gestured to Heartsbane and yelled, “Do you know how to use that?”

Glancing down, he responded, “Probably not as well as you.” He held it out as she grabbed the hilt and not for a second did she seem to consider anything more. Sam watched, and it hit something odd in him, that in her own way, Mya's way of fighting was quick and graceful.

It reminded him of Jon.

As the clashing of metal dimmed in one's ears did figures come from the distance of where the fire was. They looked more put together then the wild men sent the people's way and as the dark haired twins pushed a group into the nearest door, they both turned with a heave as the men spoke with a yell of authority. A yell of a name Sam hadn't heard in a long time.

“We seek your Queen in the North, that is all. No one else needs to die tonight, but you will have to hand her over.” Satin glanced at Mya, as did Olly, and it was only then did Sam catch the way both of them felt a fear did something unknowing grow inside his chest. No, he thought, she was dead, everyone knew she was dead, and yet these men seemed to think she was hiding here.

An arrow came and hit from random, sending someone to the ground, and quick another as the figure thought none of it. Those Sam did not know the name of held bravery as they stood defiant, “The Queen isn't here, and even if she was we wouldn't hand her over.”

Chuckling the man looked almost uncaring in his eyes. “We don't need you to do it, your precious Queen will hand herself over. Isn't that right, dear?” Arms held out with no weapon and no fear he shouted. “The longer she hides the more of her people suffer on her behalf.”

Two arrows quick shot out, as soon as screaming came to follow, Satin had aggressively moved in an instant to hold his sister back. Turning with something painful and red in her eyes, she tried to move again only to have Sam step forward as well. Arm outstretched as if he wanted to do something, but there was a feeling deeper behind his eyes that made the weariness in Mya's look worse.

And suddenly, he knew, that you knew, Sam just figured it out.

Jon's girl was alive and right in front of him and Sam hadn't realized it until it seemed like it was too late. The men shouted more as you now stood shaking in the group with a jaw so clenched Sam thought it might snap.

“See we don't want any trouble, you people've done nothing wrong yet. But your Queen has a higher power she has to answer to, sins that demand she pay for and if not? We'll just keep killing people right here until she does.”

Sam and Satin both went to stop you again, but you shoved against them, stepping right into the clearing. A smug smile came over the one leading them as he stepped forward as well. Whispers rippled through those still watching. Loud and yet controlled, Sam could see your your eyes blazing strongly almost as the fire behind the men. “Who are you?”

“Come with us and find our for yourself, your grace. Or we could always decide to approach the King in the North to let him decide, I'm sure a man as honourable as he would graciously take your place.”

You were silent, and everyone watched in worry. The moment you spoke Satin tried to walk to you as Sam did, Gilly holding Olly to her as he seemed in a panic. Your voice however, when you did speak finally was heavy.

“On one condition.” Protests waved through the people but you held a hand up as they obeyed in quiet without question. “You leave this city, and these people. I go with you, and when we are done, you leave the North and do not come back. Not for them, not for my King. You want me to answer for my sins? Then I answer for the rest of the North. I'm not here to send any of my people to a slaughter.”

Just as he smiled with a deal, did Gilly have to pull Olly back again. “You can't-”

“It's too late, lad. Your Queen has given herself over for your safety. Very admirable, if the accused stands true it might be the only honourable thing she's ever done.” Sam watched as you said nothing in a glare, only for it to soften when you looked to the group then finding Olly. Shaking your head, but he tried to protest as this time, he didn't hide the tears in his eyes watching you.

Holding your hand out, palm to the men, you made a slow path to go to Sam as he closed the distance. Handing him the blood soaked blade, your eyes begged him in what almost looked like a sorry as he grabbed it from you. Sam wanted to do too much he wasn't capable of. You were supposed to be dead. But it was Satin who broke the silence again. “Anguy?”

The one with the bow raised an eyebrow, “Would you look at that. It feels like it's been a long time, Gendry. Happy to see you aren't dead, yet.” So Mya was really you and Satin was hiding his true name as well, and you travelled with Olly? What in seven hells had Sam stumbled across?

Coming forward, the archer seemed he was the only one to be recognized by Gendry and the rest remained in the dark. “You come with us, but we're taking Gendry and the fat one too.” Pointing to where Sam was close to you. “As collateral. You run, we kill them. You see your trial through to the end and we let them go. So you don't run, your grace. Understood?”

Only the two next to you could see the conflict. The water behind them wanting to fall and the way your muscles and jaw all tensed as it all went to hell once more. Gilly yelled for Sam, and Sam shouted back. “Take Olly and Sam, get to Winterfell, find Jon-” But he was grabbed as was the weapon in his hand as the innocents yelled in protest. Sam could see the devastated way you and Olly watched one another before his vision was over taken just as the men put a hood over you and Gendry as well.

You knew painfully, it had turned into a mess mess. The way he looked at you as you said it was bad, but the way he barley could look at you now that it was out there, was worse.

Jon stood so many feet away from you as his face twisted into a heartbreaking betrayal, you had to tell him the truth and it went as badly as you feared he'd one day look at you with. “My father was the most honourable man I ever met, and now you're going to stand there and say he lied to me all my life.”

You felt the sting in your eyes, he'd been horribly upset the second it came out. But you couldn't know and not tell him. Your voice cracked trying to keep it together, barley able to even come a single step towards him before he'd make that distance even greater. “He was trying to protect you-”

“From knowing who my own mother is?”

He rose his voice and you had to as well, only yours was tinged in guilt and his anger. “From everyone else, from the very family who left three of yours dead, from a life of danger. Robert would have killed you if he knew, if he ever knew.”

You don't think Jon has ever been angry with you, not like this, and it begun to spiral something in your mind that overwhelmed each time he spoke angrier. “So he lies to me, lies to everyone. How long have you known?”

Stammering, you didn't have the right words or calm to explain the dreams and how confusing they left you feeling. Only able to mutter out, “I've..suspected since Dragonstone-”

Not wanting to cry, but you felt your eyes sting with tears anyways. “You've thought this for weeks and are only now just telling me? So this is it? I was born and everyone started lying their asses off. Is any of what he told me even true about her-”

You didn't mean to yell the way you did, but it came out like a scratch as even in his state, Jon could sense a sob trying to claw it's way out of you. “Why do you think he never wanted you around Robert? What do you think would make him want you dead more, if you were born from some secret romance or if you were born because Rhaegar- I knew Robert, and if he knew that's how you came to be, it didn't matter you were Ned Starks son, he would've killed you no matter what.”

Running a hand over his mouth he turned away, taking a few steps before looking back at you. “I've never hidden something like this from you, never. And you let me marry you holding this over my head?”

“I told you as soon as I learned the actual truth. I married you because I love you. Who do you even think I am?” You couldn't come down to earth, Jon was angry and he'd never been angry at you before, never truly yelled at you before and something inside you was losing your grip. Something was scratching at your insides the longer he looked at you almost in hate. Like you were losing the only thing keeping you tethered to this earth the worse that look got.

Not for a second could you figure out what was behind his eyes. They spoke thousands of words and you had not the language to read a single one like this. “I always loved you, but maybe I don't know you anymore. Maybe I don't know anyone, or ever did.”

“Loved? You loved?”

If you were of a less raging mind of chaotic screams of panic, you might have caught the look on Jons face. The one realizing he had just worded that in the worst way he didn't mean. But he was too worked up to know how to figure out how to fix that, and the way he found no way to break the silence from the noise in your own head only made that gap between you both feel like a nightmare.

He knew how badly it came out, and he didn't have the strength to say it in any other way that wasn't going to give you the worst image even when he didn't mean it. But his head was too loud, and his heart wanted to crack into pieces and he didn't want to cry only feet away from his mother's own burial place. “I need to be alone. I can't do this with you right now. I can't think when your around me..”

In truth, Jon didn't know if you actually heard half of this conversation. He had a horrible feeling, that what he said to you, was spoken in a different voice entirely. Beacuse as much as he had never been angry at you like that before, you had never looked at him in fear before. You had though, looked at one other that way.

But there was too much in his mind and heart to recognize that in the moment. So he left, and didn't look back to see that you still hadn't quite come down to earth.

It was Jon's voice, but whispers of Ramsay's words in your mind.

[energyanon]

Surprise reading as I can’t seem to shake off the curiosity. Ok, I’m gonna set them up in relation to this drama. Personally, I don’t believe it. NV would have to have various personality disorders in order for this to be true, among 5000 other reasons why that is not normal, sane human behaviour. But the Instagram.. so many things don’t match up. However, both me and another anon felt fuzzy headed when we were representing her.. maybe it’s not just her overthinking, maybe it’s something more relating to some kind of disorder, but that’s not my place to say. Let’s check it out. Once again I’m gonna type as I go.

I’ve decided for three set ups here: 1. NV, 2. The group chat as a whole as cited on said Instagram, and 3. Henry.

Set up 2. (The GC) first. I picked up NV and got a headache.

First flag: Natalie wanted to be on top of the GC… that’s weird..

Henry is at a distance but he is staring at them both. Starting to feel like I may have been wrong in my judgment here ha.. 😬 I’m really hoping it’s not true cause otherwise that’s fucking sad and NV has genuine issues. But, I’m ok with being wrong.

Alright, let’s start as NV (cause GC, I feel I already know their feelings regardless of if it’s true or not) FYI, I have moved NV to being close but not on top, as one energy on top of - group of energies would be much too hard to decipher.

NV:

Immediate dizziness. I feel very hot and my air con is currently blasting down upon me so it’s not me. The group chat feels very little to NV. like tiny, as in I could step on them. (1. This can mean they’re not even being seen, she barely cares about them, or 2. Can feel more powerful than) as we know in the screenshots the latter was supposedly the case, so I’m not going to cross that out just yet, but it feels more like I’m just not even seeing them. they’re dirt under my feet. They don’t really have her attention and she’s not super bothered by them, but once I brought her attention to it She does want to stamp it out, it’s a complete nuisance. She wants to cover them up. I gave them a little tap, which ended turning into many taps which turned into actually wanting to destroy their rep all together. so she’s angry about it. (At this point I don’t know if she’s angry about This situation being a lie, as in she’s sick of these people doing this to her, or if she’s genuinely angry at the group for exposing her) the tiny dirt now feels a bit bigger but more like a basketball sized nuisance. She still feels bigger than them, it’s just that this is so ANNOYING. Still wants to rip them up into little pieces, she’s annoyed, she’s moving me around a whole bunch, she’s angry, she’s frustrated, she’s tying her hair up, she’s not having it. like it’s fucking annoying. this is all so ANNOYING. She’s stressed, she’s annoyed, she wants this over and done with.

No more energy shifts. Incoming questions.

Q: do you know them?

No I don’t fucking know them

Ok do you think that was a friend who exposed you?

I don’t know I can’t think I- (just a bunch of profanities) [note: it’s like she’s keyboard smashing in my brain right now it’s REALLY annoyed]

Jaw clenched, I’m swaying from side to side my hands are on my hips, hair away from my face I want to move somewhere else but I need to deal with THIS FUCKING THING FIRST ISHDJFKSJXJDSNX.

god it is SO ANNOYING like if you guys were all in front of me right now you’d be heading me yelling and screaming and So irritated I’m so I’m SO Annoyed. I can’t even think of any other questions to ask cause I’m too busy getting keyboard smashed atm.

I’m gonna move to the group to just see if the intentions there are legit. I need a break from NV.

Ok the group:

the group have some anxiety, stomach dropped. They’re not angry they’re just looking at NV. None of them can be sure if It was NV - I think some of them doubt but it was a “get it out just in case” situation. At least one of them feel bad. Nervous jitters from my right leg. You know how you fidget when you’re waiting to get in trouble?

Q: do you believe it was NV?

There are many of them so I’ll just say it as it came up. No (1) I don’t know (majority) one of them is a yeah, feels like the leader of the group but even then the yeah isn’t a solid resounding yeah. But it’s also not like a “yeaahhh?” It’s like I’m just gonna make a decision and it’s yeah.

Q: are you mad that nv is with Henry

I’m not mad (1)

We’re not mad, we just think he could do better. (Majority)

Q: why did you do this

To expose her

Q: why to expose her if you didn’t truly believe it was her

There is a very weak “it was the right thing to do” like.. when I say weak it feels like they don’t even believe that, but they’ve convinced themselves it is..?

Q: at any point did you lie or fabricate the screenshots?

Resounding no, but one solid yes from someone.

Q: Yes?

One of them.

Q: which one

(I was shown one of them, it was one of the purple and black ones, one where there isn’t much purple - I’ll have to check it after)

Ok, my leg isn’t going crazy anymore - there is just an expectant waiting. They’re looking at NV, she’s taller than them but not much taller (not like they’re a basketball being looked down upon, just normal human heights) the feeling is just waiting. Waiting to see if there is a response. That’s it, that’s all I’ve been given I can’t even conjure Up another question. (Sometimes when the energy is done sharing its just done, I can’t force it past that and I’m not in my right to)

Checking Henry:

Henry is tired, he’s disillusioned, he’s just staring into space. The other two are in front of him (facing one another) but he doesn’t see them. Genuinely no thoughts from him it’s complete disassociation. But I did ask if he knew about this situation, he doesn’t seem to know yet.

And yet he’s still disassociating.. the thought “I don’t know what to do” came up, but it was so slow and fractured it was like… you know that video of that kid who’s trying to say have you ever had a dream that you could do anything but he muddles it up for 20 seconds before getting to it? It’s like that (I’ll link it when I’m done)

“I don’t kn- I just I - what do I ev- wh-“ and it keeps going but imagine it taking FOREVER for him to say it.

He’s stuck in the disassociation. Weird choice, but I need to do it. I’m gonna slap him. (Which yes, means slapping myself)

Ok, that didn’t make much difference, he’s still super tired, he still didn’t see the other two but I tried to bring his attention to NV and he was already turning around to leave “I don’t care, I don’t care I’m too tired” and then he turned back and said to NV to clarify “I do care, but I don’t, I’m tired” and I took him out cause he was walking out of there anyway.

Back to NV one last time, and then I’m doing other stuff with my day and then I’ll do CE tonight.

NV

It’s always dizziness with this chick, I swear. Everytime im with her I’m dizzy, I’m losing blood pressure. She’s calmed down at least but fuck I’m dizzy more dizzy than I usually am (can be her, could also be me continuously going into different energies, I don’t tend to feel like this though but don’t rule it out)

Dizzy, Im not tired, but fatigued like I don’t need to sleep, I need to just lay down. I see the GC but they can fuck off I don’t care. She wants to kick them out of the way. As soon as she does she wants to leap out at them and tear them to shreds. She goes from 1- 100 real quick. I don’t want her to destroy my representative for the group, cause I don’t want anything to accidentally manifest in real time for the actual group, so im going to create a little thing that she can destroy instead - just in case there are any energetic consequences of her destroying the representation of the GC. Found a little piece of paper I called it placebo GC and we’re tearing it up.

Ok so, I got her to tear up Placebo GC. She got raveonous with it. I am now coming to believe that NV has some major anger issues. To be fair, im feeling how annoyed she is and I get it honestly it’s the only way to get out this level of emotion. It’s not healthy, therapy is needed for sure, but I’m not gonna sit here like this and say that she’s overreacting cause when you’re feeling like she is, there’s no where else for this to go

She ripped them up, crushed them, tore at them with her teeth, crushed them into a little ball again and chucked them away and then we just screamed “FUCK!” For literally about 3 minutes and she was LIVID. I’ve sat her down now while I write this, she’s still annoyed, she’s not livid.

Interesting to note though, all throughout the screaming there was never a single thought that came up that was like “why can’t they just let US live, why can’t we just BE together” she really doesn’t seem to care about the affect it has on her and Henry’s relationship, she’s just annoyed people are talking shit. Like she just doesn’t care that people won’t accept them.

Oh! I haven’t checked on her vs. HC so lemme do that. I wanna see if she checks up on him too, cause from a normal relationship perspective, this would affect him too. But let’s see.

Yup, ok, nothing from her end, if anything she’s giving him the silent treatment. Like she’s looking at him in the way you do when your partner has said something stupid and you’re too angry to answer. But she doesn’t care that he’s there. I went to him also to see if he would comfort her and he was just a brick wall, kind of more like “here I am I’m showing up but idc. I really idc. Sorry that you’re going through it I guess.” Both of them had the ~aura~ (I don’t know how to explain it on text) of “this did not go as planned” however, they didn’t SAY that, just as an FYI, it was just a bit of a shared feeling translated into words.

That’s it. I’m ending it there. I’ve got life admin to do, be back later for a CE reading as promised. :)

[carcinized]

uh hey sorry you don’t have to answer this but how do you know if you are disassociating? -statdYst

uhhh i dont know if theres a surefire way but i can describe it to you + link some things!!

warnings for discussion of dissociation/derealization/depersonalisation under the cut!! stay safe ^_^

keep in mind that this is only MY knowledge and MY experience, written by someone with chronic (near constant) dissociation & derealisation plus occasional episodes of depersonalisation!! i know a lot but im not an expert ahaahah

okay so theres basically three main types of dissociation to my knowledge, mainly Dissociation™, derealisation, and depersonalization.

Dissociation™ is basically just being on autopilot and not being able to get off it, spacing out, no thoughts head empty, feeling far away, etc. it's basically your brain's natural response to trauma, and its actually really nice when you're in the middle of a bad moment. that feeling you get when someone's yelling at you where it feels secondhand kinda? and far away and weirdly emotionless? THATS dissociation. it's just a general disconnection from reality/yourself, and it's only bad when it's prolonged.

derealisation is basically when the world AROUND you doesn't feel real. for me personally it changes from a simple "nothing feels real and i'm floating through empty space" while also seeing things in front of me and responding on autopilot (its hard to explain 😭) but ranges to the more extreme things such as "i'm living in a simulation" "this is all a dream" "i'm in a coma dreaming i need to wake up NOW" "i'm alone in the universe and this is all fake only i am real" "i'm dead this is the afterlife" ETC ETC ETC. you get it basically anytime your brain is telling you your reality around you is not.... your reality.

then depersonalisation is when YOU don't feel real. examples of this are looking in the mirror and not recognizing yourself, feeling like a spectator of the world around you (for me personally, it gets bad enough that i'll talk to myself and be surprised when people hear me. because i forget i and my talking are real), feeling like you're not real but everything else IS (similar to the last one), etc etc etc i havent experienced this one as much so i dont have as many examples oops.

but yeah if you see yourself in any of those things yeah youre probably dissociating or derealised or depersonalised!! other symptoms/signs of general dissociation but sometimes the other stuff can be:

being forgetful/not knowing where you are/that type of thing

lighting!! feeling wrong!! like that feeling when you walk inside from the sunny outdoors and everything is b r i g h t and you can still see but also what the fuck why is it so bright

looking like when a camera doest adjust right? and its weirdly dark? yeah thats dissociation a lot of the time

blurry/unfocused vision

i dont know if this is just a me thing but auditory processing issues + just worse hearing in general?

i'll fuck up taste too when it's especially bad. i've had mint gum taste like so many things ranging from bubblegum to peanut butter and i'm pretty sure it's a dissociation thing because dissociation is basically just your brain logging information in wrong

general weird sensory stuff. idk

the need to check double check triple check EVERYTHING. before i go to any class every day i ask my friends "what day of the week is it, what period is it, what's my schedule" and STILL dont feel like i'm in the right class when i get there.

thats all kinda. ive lived with this for years and if youre just getting it now you probably dont have a lot of the specifics ive named PLUS theres definitely more and im not an expert BUT heres a couple dodie videos that super helped me figure stuff out when i was first trying to understand what was wrong with me? [x] [x] [x]

[oceansevaporatetoo]

this cool thing

CW: lab whump, lady whumper, minor whumpee, creepy comfort (abusive/manipulative caretaker), fucky headspace, self hatred, needles, mentions of death, panic attack, disassociation, suicidal ideations, torture, noncon touch, sleep deprivation

here is a description courtesy of @teenytinytumblers: hi im oliver, i have fire powers and also the power of sassiness, im being tortured to find out the source of my fire powers by this shitty lady named dr. bateman, and theres this other dude named liam who likes to punch people, people being me. also my parents abandoned me to the center btw so theres my tragic backstory for you

this is my first time posting writing on tumblr, please lmk if you like it!

I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Dr. Bateman said she’d be back in a couple of minutes with clean clothes—not-bloody clothes—but she’s not back yet and I think I’m going to collapse where I’m standing.

My eyelids flutter, but she said she’d come back and she’s not back yet so I stay standing. I stare at the clock and watch the seconds tick by. Time seems to move faster now that I know I’m nearly dead.

I knew before, I think. I just didn’t understand. There’s no getting out of this.

I am going to die. 

And I’m okay with that, I think hazily as the door swings open.

“Oliver,” Dr. Bateman says, putting the clothes on my bed. She looks up at me, and I lower my gaze just before our eyes meet. “No. Look at me.”

A million comebacks flash through my head and I say none of them. I look at her and can almost feel her hand gripping my chin, the tip of a needle pressing into my neck while I beg her to stop.

I blink.

“Good,” she says, her tone nearly motherly. “Now, Liam will be here tomorrow morning at—“

“I don’t want to know.” My voice cracks, and I flinch as her hand goes to the remote resting on her clipboard. 

“Don’t interrupt me,” she says quietly, but she doesn’t press the button.

“I’m sorry—“

“I’m still speaking.”

It’s a test. It’s a trap.

I say nothing.

Dr. Bateman jots something down on her clipboard, then looks back up at me.

Am I supposed to say something?

My head spins. I’m going to yawn and I can’t, she’ll be furious— and she’s still looking at me.

“This shouldn’t be this hard, Oliver,” Dr. Bateman says loftily, and what if she’s doing this on purpose, what if she’s trying to get me to mess up?

I can’t even remember what we were talking about anymore, and my head feels full of cotton balls and glass shards.

I’ve been holding my breath this whole time. I didn’t notice.

“Oliver?”

I look at her.

She looks at me a second too long and I break.

I let out a panicked sob, grabbing the nightstand behind me and sinking down onto the floor. I’m staring at the same red shoes that were pinning me down to the ground earlier and I screw my eyes shut, but I can still see the red on the inside of my eyelids and I can’t breathe.

“Honey,” Dr. Bateman’s voice comes from somewhere above me, slightly muffled, and I can’t tell if she’s concerned or patronizing or something else entirely. “What’s wrong?”

“You— you’re going to kill me.” But it’s not me saying that, it couldn’t be, because I don’t even remember my mouth starting to move. I don’t remember my eyes opening.

“Yes,” She reaches over my head to put her clipboard on the nightstand. I want to back away, but there’s nowhere to go, and I press myself into the wood. The look on her face makes me think that my shutting down is waking her up. “But let’s face it. I was always going to do that. Oliver, honey, do you know how elemental powers work? It’s in your chromosomes. Down to the deepest level. There’s no way to get rid of your fire without getting rid of you.” 

My head pounds, and I take a shuddering breath. The room is spinning, but not around me, around her.

I’m dreaming, this has to be a dream—

She runs a hand through my hair, as if to be consoling. I shrink away from her.

 “Don’t touch me,” I say, and the sentence comes out in a sob. “Please don’t—”

Her fingers curl into my hair and she yanks my head back so I’m forced to look up at her. “I’ll do anything I want to do, Oliver,” she says, her voice dangerously soft. “You’re going to be on the operating table tomorrow, and yes, I am going to touch you. Never speak to me that way again.”

I say nothing. No words would come out anyway. She lets go of my hair, and I let my head drop.

“Now,” Dr. Bateman continues. Her tone is harsh, and I flinch, bracing myself for pain that I’m not even sure is coming. “I have several things to explain to you, and I suggest you just listen. Look at me, Oliver.”

I look up, swallowing. My eyes threaten to close again, and I force them to stay open.

“Thank you,” she says finally. “Now, Liam will…”

I tune her out, staring absentmindedly at the clock right behind her head. My heartbeat is still in my ears and it aligns with the ticking of the clock, like it’s counting down the minutes until I die.

“Oliver,” I look at Dr. Bateman. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“What time tomorrow?”

I don’t know. I have no idea, and she takes the clipboard off the nightstand.

“No, wait—“

She pushes the button, and pain courses through every single nerve in my body.

Pass out, pass out, pass out, I think, and a second later, I do.

“Ten tomorrow morning,” Dr. Bateman tells me when I come to. “What time?”

“Ten tomorrow morning,” I repeat, my voice hollow.

“And where is Liam going to take you?”

“To—” I don’t know, I don’t— “Dr. Bateman, please— just tell me again, I’ll listen this time—”

“I’ve told you three times already, Oliver.”

No. She hasn’t. She hasn’t. I’m not that delirious, right?

Right?

“No— no, you haven’t— I’m not—“

“Are you arguing with me?”

“No no no, I’m not—“

“Well, that’s what it sounds like. But you wouldn’t dare, would you? Not after all that time you spent in 3C.”

“No, I wouldn’t— Dr. Bateman, please—“

“So, where is Liam going to take you?”

Her hand is too close to her clipboard. “Please don’t,” I sob. “No—“

“Honey, just tell me you don’t know the answer and move on,” she says. “There’s no point in delaying the inevitable.”

“No, I know it— I— just say it one more time, please, I promise I’ll get it—“

“You don’t know, Oliver. Say it.”

“I don’t—“ I sob. “I don’t know, but Dr. Bateman, please, please—“

I can hear myself screaming. I can see myself screaming, and I scream again to make sure that I’m still here, that I’m not dead, and then I slam back into my body and I’m still screaming. Dr. Bateman says something, but she sounds far away and underwater, and I think my ears are broken, but really, maybe I’m broken, like that broken clock in the other center that can’t tell the time anymore.

“Oliver.”

Maybe if I open my eyes this will all be a nightmare, an awful nightmare that I’ve been dreaming about for hours, for days, for years. My mom will be alive and my dad will love me again and I won’t have powers—

I open my eyes.

It’s not a nightmare. 

It’s real. 

It’s real, and I’m staring at those red shoes again, shoes the color of blood, of murder, of years and years of torture only to die in the exact same place.

“Oliver.”

I look up at Dr. Bateman, at the woman who took everything from me, and feel absolute, paralyzing fear.

I hate her, I hate her, I—

“I’m only going to say this one more time. At ten tomorrow morning, Liam is going to come in here and bring you to my office. You’re going to say goodbye to everyone, and then you’re done.”

Done.

“Now answer my question. Where is Liam going to take you?”

“To— to your office,” I manage to say.

“Perfect,” she says. “I’ll see you soon. Good night, honey.”

I flinch as the door closes behind her.

I think I might cry, and I will myself to feel nothing again.