#jon and ghost being one in the same

[error404vnotfound]

the stark kids and their direwolves can be something that's so personal to me

[dipperscavern]

thinking about jon snow not knowing what to do when you admire him.

he’s sprawled on his stomach, bare chested & fast asleep, with the blankets covering his lower half. castle black stirs awake as the sun starts to rise, moving to start its ascension into the sky.

the ghost of your fingertips across his spine pull him to consciousness, goosebumps trailing his skin from your touch. he lightly stretches, opening his eyes as his muscles tense & relax once more.

he looks to see you sitting up, a glossed over look in your eyes as your gaze is fixated on his back — the hint of a smile playing on your lips. he’s never been looked at like that before. caressed, admired, as if he was something special.

he can feel the pads of your fingers as they run along his shoulderblades, tracing the ridges & muscles that map the expanse of his back. has he ever felt anything this gentle?

you stop your mapping of his body when you see that he’s awake. he’s not looking at you, though. his eyes are blank, fixated on a distant wall as he focuses on your touch, trying to commit the feeling to memory.

“you’re so pretty, jon.”

he feels his cheeks grow warm, no doubt starting to turn a pretty shade of pink. his entire body grows hot, nerves on fire with the sincerity of your words. jon knows you mean it — you’re no liar. suddenly your gaze is overwhelming, and he feels the need to squirm under it.

you’re evil, he thinks. the worst to ever live. can’t you see what you do to him?

he’s brought out from his thoughts when the warmth of your hand leaves his shoulders, coming to brush his hair out of his face. you tuck the strands behind his ears, the dark curls protesting being moved. jon swallows, looking up at you.

he can see the smile you’re trying to suppress, and he feels his heart swell at the fact the sight of him is enough to make you smile. the knuckle of your finger comes to trace the underside of his jaw, just the way your lips have done countless times before. the thought alone is enough to make him shiver.

you get to the front of his face, the pad of your thumb coming to run along his bottom lip. the same lips that have been all over your body are now at the mercy of your touch, and jon wouldn’t ruin this moment for anything… even if lord commander mormont had returned from the dead & knocked on the door.

jon had tried to be still, truly. he should’ve been given an award for how long he’s held out so far. he can’t help himself, lips moving to kiss the pad of your thumb. they start to descend, trailing down the slope of your hand. he presses a final kiss to the inside of your wrist, before his hand wraps around it and brings it to his cheek. he uses it as a pillow, laying his head down once more & sighing, eyes fluttering shut.

you let the smile break free now, eyes gazing down at your lover, in all his content. jon deserves it all. the gentleness, the warmth, anything that you have to give, you offer to him. he’s been through hell and back, the scars run deep. and you want nothing more than to kiss each and every one, to replace the once horrid memories with the feel of your touch.

you eventually pull away your hand, & jon’s eyes are quick to open. you can almost feel the disapproval radiating off of him, which is quickly replaced with a warm feeling deep in his chest when you reach for his right hand.

you bring it to your lap, eyes fixated on it. both of your hands cradle his larger, calloused one. you run your hands along his, feeling every vein & knuckle under your fingers. his fingers twitch with the need to curl into your smaller ones. jon’s so busy looking at your hands holding his, he at first doesn’t see the way your eyes are closed. you’re mapping him, every part of him with your hands — trying to bury the feeling in a deep part of your mind so you never forget. and once jon realizes that, he’s inclined to never let you go. just keep you here, wrapped in his arms forever. you wouldn’t mind, would you?

once you’re done, sure that you’ve traced every part of him that you can reach, you bring his hand to cradle your cheek, mirroring how jon had done with your own not so long ago. you lean into it, relaxing into his hand.

it’s jon’s turn to smile now. it tugs at the corner of his lips, curving them upwards as his tongue darts out to wet them. is this what love is like? jon thinks it must be. to simply exist & be cherished by someone, to be truly adored & held close.

jon can’t resist the urge anymore. its overwhelming at this point, clouding his mind. he uses the hand on your cheek to pull you closer as he simultaneously pulls himself up, connecting your lips with his. he kisses you long & soft, as he gently moves you to lay down on your back. you’re easy in your compliance, putty in his hands; the one still on your cheek, and the other pressing to your waist as your lips continue to dance with his.

he pulls away, trailing kisses down your neck. your hands find their way to his hair, not pulling, just slotting themselves amongst the curls. once he reaches the end of his descent, he moves to place once more kiss on the underside of your jaw, before laying his head down on your stomach. his arms wrap around your waist as your hands scratch at his scalp in a way that’s divine.

& in the comfort of your arms, jon understands why so little men join the nights watch of their own accord. what is honor compared to a woman's love? what is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms? he understands now, able to fully grasp the concept of never knowing the tenderness of your touch — and it’s not a very pleasant thought.

in the back of his mind he remembers the duties you both have to tend to, but they’ll be fine, he thinks. they can wait.

[often-daydreaming]

An Ancient's Game

It started off small at first. A robbery in Metropolis. A missing persons case in Gotham. An 'accident' in Amity Park. None of it connected. Nobody thought to connect them. It was just another case after all. There would always be another case so sometimes things slipped through the cracks. It happened.

Even heroes made mistakes after all.

They overlooked things.

But in the end they messed up and someone had to pay and someone did when Clark Kent heard his wife and son’s heartbeats vanish off the face of the earth during a somewhat quiet afternoon while he was handling a disaster in France.

He was the man of steel though, he could have made it. He should have made it but he was a second too late. His family was gone and Metropolis felt the fury of the old gods as a being made of wind and storms ripped its way free of an unseen portal cackling with mad laughter as it devastated the city.

It was another distraction though.

A massive distraction that drew the Justice League's attention away from the real prize as nightmares descended on Gotham like shadows. They morphed from the darkness slipping out through the cracks like ghosts and only Oracle saw the fight as they swarmed the youngest Robin, the Dark Knight's youngest son vanishing under an endless tide of nightmares as Nocturn took control of Gotham's nightlife.

More distractions followed as more and more of the old gods, Ancient beings long forgotten returned to Earth.

Storms raged.

The ground quaked.

Creatures of myth and legend were free to run wild as reports of everything from dragons to even yetis flooded the Watchtower.

In the end it was Diana who found their first and only clue when one of her mother's messengers appeared warning them of Themyscira's fate when a portal was opened for Undergrowth deep within the island's jungles. They fought. They fell. Then they were turned into mindless puppets bent to the monster's will as the sounds of war subsided into silence within a matter of days.

Her losses gave them a name.

Undergrowth, a creature of the green who cheered the being known as Clockwork while Constantine explained its origin.

He told them of Cronos, of the pieces of him that had formed into a new life deep within the endlessness of Infinity.

And Fate opened the way.

The first thing the gathered heroes saw was a massive clocktower surrounded by gears and pistons twisting in every direction as they spilled out into an endless void. Each tenth of a second, the hands on the clocktower click one step forward.

A single tooth on one of the smaller gears is easily the size of the Watchtower and no matter how far anyone looked there was no beginning or end to the clocktower.

There was nothing except the click, click, click of endless clocks as they stormed the Titan's lair.

Nothing stopped them.

There were no enemies or traps.

In fact the doors were left wide open as if welcoming the Justice League inside and they soon discovered why when Shazam found them. Superboy stood on a scale across from Luthor, the same with Robin and Waller. They were frozen in time, trapped in a single second of a moment while in the very middle of the massive room was a kid, easily Jon's double sleeping on a throne made out of the void of space but that wasn't what had him worried.

What worried him was the silence, the sudden nothingness in his mind as the voices of the gods empowering him faded away in the presence of the cloaked figure of Cronos suddenly standing beside the throne.

Even as the other heroes flooded into the room he couldn't hear anything besides a soft click, click, click as Superman was waved away forced into a loop of repetition that began and ended with his first step forward.

Green Lantern fell next, rapidly aged into an old man unable to match a Titan's will.

Then Constantine collapsed clutching an invisible wound on his chest. It was his contracts forcing him to obey while Fate eventually faded under time's cold embrace.

There were only a few heroes left when Flash made a move blitzing the throne only to suddenly lose his speed. The others simply glitched, like static on an old tv leaving only Shazam, J'onn and surprisingly Lois Lane standing in front of Cronos as he declared a game to decide Earth's continued existence.

'Convince each of them you're worth another chance and I'll restore everything.'

'Who's them?'

I don't really know what I was going with here. I was just listening to some of the songs from Epic and figured why not let an enraged Clockwork have some fun. I'm blaming Vlad for everything cause I can and he's done it before and caused a ton of problems for everyone else so I'm just picturing something he did or tried to do backfiring badly enough that Danny got seriously hurt so now everyone's gotta pay.

[branwinged]

the magnus archives is a romcom—no what the hell it's not. it is, however, a gothic horror romance between jon and elias. because you see, the thing about jonelias is that their canonical dynamic is built around an absurd number of gothic genre tropes. jon sims obviously fits the mold of the tortured gothic protagonist quite nicely who's facing both external (the other avatars targeting him) and internal horrors (his progress as the Archivist weighing on his conscience). but he's also trapped in the gothic manor which is the magnus institute. there are secrets (the place being a temple to the eye), locked doors, forbidden chambers, and bodies in the attic which serve as evidence of past misdeeds (the panopticon; gertrude and jonah's bodies in the tunnels), the institute/archives is ultimately destroyed by fire - purging the gothic manor i.e. the symbolic destruction of the previous order with fire is a common motif in the genre. and jon's work in the archives is haunted by the figurative ghost of gertrude who remains a curious mystery he must unravel and will serve as a constant reminder to jon of his own inadequacies (just like du maurier's rebecca fr)

elias is then —

1) his personal bluebeard figure who murdered his predecessor, a comparison which only gets stronger with the jonah magnus reveal since he's been cycling through archivists for two hundred years, all having met gruesome ends in service to him and jon being his final and most notable choice. are you seeing the maxim de winter rochester imagery. are you.

2) his gothic double. doubles as a literary trope are your hidden self made manifest, the horror lies in the double (elias) revealing the gothic protagonist's (jon) hidden, true self to them. elias as an avatar of the eye is entirely unrepentant for his nature, he revels in it. which is a mirror to jon's own self-flagellation because despite how much he feels torn about his own metaphorical vampirism, he likes it. he admits as much to gerry as early as s3 when asked about his feelings on his ability to compel truths. and why wouldn't he! after being kept in the dark so long, why wouldn't he like it? and jon and jonah had in common their natural curiosity even before they found the beholding. elias is a mirror and jon looks in it and sees someone who is him, but not quite. someone who is what jon would be if he could simply let go, but jon can't. like most gothic protagonists he will kill his double because it is a reminder of a self-truth he can never escape.

and watcher's call. like what even is that. what do you mean that's a thing. what. literally wuthering heights. "why did you heed the call?" // "because this is the place i know i should be" <- normal dialogue to write for two guys definitely not starring in a gothic romance.

^ same genre of images. so the spider, the mother of puppets, the web which is the symbolic representation of narrative thread in the magnus archives universe WEAVED them together? red string fated, that's what they are? so they're soulmates. that's what you're saying. they're literally soulmates. soulmates as existential horror? just enough of an illusion of narrative agency for jonah/elias to claim, "the Chosen One is simply that – someone I chose" but paradoxically joined by fate, which isn't a good thing! because no god-like powers of hope, or love, or indigestion, or whatever, only fear. because even though both help the other achieve narrative self-actualisation (elias making jon the archive and jon making elias the king of a ruined world), their union also irrevocably destroys their lives as they hurt each other in deeply personal ways which signify their greatest fears. elias manipulating jon, whose biggest fear is mr spider, i.e. loss of control and jon repaying by being the very thing that kills jonah, who has spent multiple lifetimes trying to escape the end. and that's romance <3

[dp-dc-rantler]

Ok, hear me out:

Batman, after the Anti-Ecto-Acts got exposed: We need to correlate a meeting with The Phantom. His kind has been under attack for so long that it's reasonable to perceive him as a threat.

Superman, pulling up a picture of Phantom with a spray bottle in hand: We knew you'd say that so here his fil-

Batman, standing a bit straighter and appears more alert: Hn.

Green Arrow, spotting the tall tail signs of a Bat Adoption Mode on the rise: Hey, no, you have enough kids-

Flash, with confusion at it's highest: Phantom has white hair and green eyes, how is the Adoption Mode being triggered? This one's not even alive-

Batman: That is the same as my second son, your point?

Superman, readying the spray bottle: Rao, here we go again...

Wonder Woman, stepping in with knowledge Batman didn't know: His main enemy seems to be the ghost of a rich, powerful man. I doubt he would take kindly to you trying to adopt him.

Batman, still eyeing the picture of Phantom: My second eldest son was a street rat that tried to stab my civilian identity on multiple occasions, your point?

Green Lantern, trying to intervene: He has a two clones of himself that are usually with him, are you sure-

Batman, hand inching towards his com: My youngest son has had well over 4,000 clones of him made to kill him, one of which succeeded. I can handle taking the on, or in if needed.

Captain Marvel, trying to stick up for the kid: He's probably older than he looks, and he's been taking care of himself for quite some time, I don't think he'd like someone to swoop in an adopt him after all this time.

Batman, hand on com, instructing Alfred to get the guy: ........So you're saying that I need to lure him in-

Superman with the spray bottle: Hey, no, no. Take down the bad government hunting him first, no adoption papers okay? Put them away.

Batman, slinking away to a computer to deal with the government so that he can inherit another kid, his cowl now very wet: Hn.

Aquaman, whispering to the one standing closest to him:........ Should I inform him that there is a civilian who's parents are responsible for bringing the ghost into this realm through mad scientist means?

Hawkwoman: Does this child have black hair or blue eyes?

Aquaman: Well, yes-

Hawkman: Than no.

Martian Manhunter, who had encountered Phantom by chance and was subjugated to one hell of a fan rambling: Hm. Would the Batman be willing to consider Co-parenting?....

Jon Constantine, who walked in and had been to stunned that they were talking about an infinite realm being: Bloody hell, your supposed to be the reasonable one-

Martian Manhunter, glancing at his dedicated cupboard of Oreos:..... I am afraid you will have to reevaluate that.

[notjustjavierpena]

I have recently watched scenes from a marriage with oscar isaac and my mind which connects everything with hubby javi immediately went to this:

imagine wife’s and javi’s friends are going through a divorce, there’s cheating m, miscommunication etc and just a very hard time.

I feel like Javi and Wife would have a conversation about this due to the proximity of it happening to their friends. One about trust and if they’re happy. It’s not about insecurity or anything just them both communicating effectively and giving the other reassurance that this is not on the cards for them.

I just value their relationship so much.

Reassess

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Hiya anon! I hope it’s okay that I tweaked your request slightly to fit my version of hubby and wife. Enjoy ❤️ Thanks so much for proofreading, @angelofsmalldeath-codeine !!!

Summary: You and Javier’s friends are going through a divorce, and it suddenly makes you wonder about your own marriage.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18, talk about divorce, talk about cheating, brief descriptions of piv sex with creampie, hurt/comfort, love!, mention of pregnancy and pregnant reader, cuddling, kisses, Javier is a great husband and you are anxious

Word count: 1.6k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54352768

Reassess

Jonathan and Mira are getting a divorce. The news had been announced to you by Javier when he entered the dimly lit living room on a Thursday night, looking paler than a ghost after what you had wrongly assumed to be a same-as-always phone conversation about football, work and going out for a beer in the near future. 

“No!” You had instinctively covered your mouth with your hand to suppress an animated gasp. Apparently, Mira had come clean about seeing another man a few days earlier and it only took shy of two days for their whole marriage to crumble. The thought was and is terrifying. 

It seems to dampen the mood between you and your husband significantly. There are more pregnant silences, longer stares, more hurried kisses, and worried faces in the middle of your daily routines that become opportunities for reflection when doing something mundane as folding laundry. However, the elephant in the room becomes most unbearable when Javier rolls off of you after making love to you a week after the news hit. 

He stares up at the ceiling and pants as he tries coming down from his high, reaching up to run his fingers through his slightly sweaty hair. You shift on your side of the bed to turn your body towards him, and gently lay a hand on his chest, “That was really good.”

“Hm? What?” He replies, “Oh right, yeah.”

“Honey,” you furrow your brow, “I don’t think I particularly like having sex with you if you’re not here with me.” 

“Lo siento (I’m sorry),” his eyes find yours, his voice is genuine, “I can’t stop thinking about Jon and Mira.”

Your eyes soften at that. It is nice to know that he is as shaken by this happening as you are, and in such close proximity to your own marriage too even if it technically has nothing to do with you. It suddenly hits why it has been so hard to start up a conversation about it. 

“Me either,” you sigh and scratch his chest gently with your nails and lay your head on his shoulder. He takes hold of your wrist and rubs the back of your hand with his thumb in soothing circles, “I can’t believe they ended up like that, who would have thought?”

“And Ava?” Javier sounds devastated and turns his head toward yours so he can rest his lips in your hair. 

“She must be so confused,” you mumble back, lost in thought. Ava is Mira and Jonathan’s daughter who sometimes has play dates with Inés, and to think that she has to deal with her parents not being able to work as a couple, especially since Mira apparently had to go sleep with someone else, is a scenario that you find nauseating when your brain automatically starts imagining your own children in the same scenario. You don’t think Lucas would ever forgive you if you caused that much hurt to his father, “I don’t know what Mira was thinking. Ava has to deal with her mom having hurt her dad. Why would she put her through that?”

“Jonathan said she’s in love with this new guy,” Javier argues. 

“I suppose sometimes you just fall in love with someone else,” you say without any emotion in your voice except for maybe a hint of disgust. 

“Are you happy? With me?” The question has been looming over the both of you since the news hit. It was only a matter of time before one of you would start reassessing your own marriage. 

You lift your head up to look Javier straight in the eyes, and even if you knew it was coming, you still feel taken aback by how much it makes your guts turn to even be told to consider it. The answer is so clear, “What? I—“

“That’s not an immediate yes,” he furrows his brow in concern. 

“Don’t be absurd,” you say back, “I love you so much it’s ridiculous.”

“But do you ever worry about us?” He continues. 

“This is the part where you say you love me too,” you joke without much humor in your voice. 

“Are you kidding? I’m nothing without you,” he lifts the hand you still have on his chest to kiss your palm, “Te amo tanto (I love you so much) but I need you to answer the question.”

“I don’t ever worry about us, no,” you answer truthfully and Javier visibly relaxes, “I know you. I trust you. It doesn’t even occur to me that I could have anything different in my life, you know? It feels like I would always have found you somewhere else if not here.”

“Perhaps they looked for something else when things became routine,” he suggests, resting your hand against his cheek.

“It’s never routine for me to tell you I love you,” you tell him with a little smile, “There’s no going back to the way things were before you.” 

“The idea of having anything else but this,” he trails off for a second, weighing his words and reaching out for you with his free hand. He cups the back of your knee to pull your leg over his naked body, “It’s just not in the cards for me. I’ll never love anyone the way that I love you.”

“Is this code for you’re stuck with me?” You crawl closer to kiss him on the mouth and tighten the leg around him, “Hm?”

“Sí (yes), you’re stuck with me, baby,” he says against your lips. 

“Do you promise that?” You whisper after pulling back a little, smiling softly as you look down at his mouth. He initiates another kiss after nodding. 

You kiss for a while without rushing it, deeply until you share each breath in your intense embrace. Despite just having had sex with him fifteen minutes ago, you want him again in a way that has him as hard as when you first got together. He fucks you open slowly with you on your back, makes you come on his cock with an almost pained tone in your whimper. He is everywhere on you, soaking you in love. The way he gasps along with you as he comes inside of you has your heart pounding in your chest. 

“No quiero a nadie más que a ti (I don’t want anyone else other than you),” he says when basking in the afterglow. However, you have already gotten out of bed to get cleaned up in the bathroom. In contrast to your husband, your afterglow is replaced by anxiety that you have just promised isn’t there. 

“I don’t want to end up like that,” you say while peeing with the door open. Javier moves on the bed to be able to look at you. 

“We won’t, te lo prometo (I promise you that),” he is quick to answer. You try to give him a smile but he notices the way you falter, “Anything you want to talk about? Anything on your mind?"

“They used to be so happy,” you sigh deeply and get up after finishing your business. You move to the sink and start washing your hands, your back suddenly towards him, “Makes me wonder if we're strong enough to weather anything.”

You hear the weight of him shift on the mattress and a second later, the soft pads of his feet across the tiled bathroom floor. He is behind you, looking at you in the mirror. You feel grateful for the sincerity in his eyes.

“Baby,” he tuts, wrapping his strong arms around you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. One of his hands goes down to lay on your stomach right below your belly button. You have just started to show, and the both of you have already talked about how early it is that your belly has started protruding but none of you have any clue why yet as you haven’t had your first scan. 

Javier kisses your bare shoulder, “This is my life, and I love it, and I would never hurt you… I trust you not to hurt me too.”

You silently turn off the tap to dry your hands but Javier doesn’t let you move. He lifts your chin so he can stare at you in the mirror, “I need you to trust me when I say that ten years with you have only made me want ten, twenty, thirty more. I love you. I choose you every day. Jonathan and Mira didn’t choose each other. We’re not them.”

“I love you too,” you shake your hands dry instead and then turn in your husband’s arms. You hug him close and he walks you out of the bathroom whilst still holding you tightly. 

“Three kids so far,” he reminds you whilst guiding you back to bed, “A decade down the line. We must be doing something right.”

“But what if—“

“You worry too much, mi vida (my life),” he says and smacks your ass as you crawl back into your bed. You glare back at him but he just snickers while crawling in too, “Get comfortable and go to sleep.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you say truthfully.

“Of course, you can,” Javier joins you under the covers. He lays down close to you and without saying a word, reaches out to gently and repeatedly stroke his hand over your hair. The warmth of his palm soothes your worry, each caress easing away the weight in your chest. 

You wonder if Mira left because Jonathan didn’t do this sort of thing anymore. Javier has done it for ten years. This fact makes sleep find you easily.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[andthemoonsingswisely]

my pet peeve is when the asoiaf fandom does mental gymnastics to justify parallels between Lyanna Stark and any of the stark children besides Jon and Arya. Parallels aren't just the color of someone's clothes, or a hobby...they have thematic purposes and are meant to reveal things about the involved characters, conflicts, and motivations. Arya being Lyanna 2.0 in terms of appearance and personality is a parallel because it shows what Lyanna would have been like had she been alive outside of the few sentences said about her. Jon defending Samwell Tarly and Lyanna defending Howland Reed is a parallel because it establishes both of them as people who defend those who don't conform to society's standards, and lays the groundwork for R + L = J. Arya being the ghost in harrenhal and Lyanna being the KotLT in Harrenhal further add to the theme of history repeating and cement these two characters' shared motivation of justice, and their similar speech patterns and appearances which lead Bran to confuse Lyanna for Arya in the vision as well as their "wolf-blood" are parallels because these things are key in Arya reclaiming her identity as a Stark. Throwaway lines like Sansa "pleading" like Lyanna and being "dead before her time" aren't really parallels in the sense that they don't reveal any unique aspect to Sansa's character or how her motivations and conflicts are similar to Lyanna's; one could argue that Jon actually dying is as much of a parallel to Lyanna being "dead before her time" or that Arya, too, having her identity stolen and pretending to be "no one" is also her being "dead before her time" if that was all that was necessary to be a parallel. I'm not going to go through every Sansa-Lyanna "parallel" and explain why they're wrong, as there have been other posts doing the same thing. However, another "parallel" I've seen lately is between Robb and Lyanna: people claim that Robb and Lyanna both haunting the narrative is a parallel to which I have to say...if a character who was important to the plot died OF COURSE they'd haunt the narrative! the situation around them when they died, as well as their social position and personality + motivations are too different to make their deaths an actual parallel. Robb was a firstborn son who was a military leader who died as part of the Freys' revenge to him breaking an oath, Lyanna was a girl who couldn't openly practice sword fighting and who died in a tower after giving birth. Robb went into war after the Lannisters killed Ned, Lyanna didn't go into war, that was started by Robert after she went with Rhaegar. Personality-wise? It's not like they're nothing alike, but there are no significant similarities between them either. It's like taking any two random characters from the novel; if you tried hard enough, I'm sure you could find some similarity between them, but nothing that's enough to create a true parallel.

[space-dreams-world]

DPXDC soulmate prompt au:

Everyone has a soulmate. Even if the way you meet your soulmate is different, you can still feel a click in place. Even with different species, romantically or platonically, and multiple soulmates. ( like one person has by sight, and their soulmate is by touch. Basically, you can have soulmates with the same markings or two different types and still work)

So, Danny, after becoming Phantom and dealing with the ghosts, finally finds a way to shut down the Portal around his last year of high school, and multiple people aren't happy about that, i.e. his parents, the ghosts, Sam, the GIW, and even Vlad as he was banking on the fentons for his shit to work, and he had plans surrounding Danny's family.

He gets run out of town by Amity and his parents after they uncover his secret. Danny then spends the next few years in space, discovering aliens.

(During his disappearance, the GIW are disbanded, Vlad doesn't have access to the zone anymore and asking for him to search in space is a permadeath sentence for him, his parents regret their Gung ho attitude and miss him. In a twist of faith, an accident kills them off, and they are working through their regrets in the zone, waiting to see Danny so they can pass)

Now, as I mentioned at the top, this is a soulmate au, so in Death, Danny is able to get a feel for soulmate, like if his soulmate had a marking for him to recognize even if his soulmate identifier is lock on sight. (He essentially has an advantage of figuring out his significant other as he has his soulmate symbol on him.)

So, whose Danny significant other? Look no further than Gotham depressed himbo dad, Bruce Wayne, whose soulmate identifier is a tattoo of Danny's mark.

This could be pretty early on in his hero career or after Duke is a part of the Bats, but basically, Bruce goes on a space mission with the league and in one of their stints to get info, Danny immediately recognizes Batman's mark which was his soulmate clue. So, Danny, who hasn't spoken human or been on earth in years, has zero in on him,but they don't get to talk before Bruce heads back to earth, but Bruce knows there is something off about the possible alien man.

On Bruce's side, he hasn't seen anyone that has made it work, except if if you want to make it a polycule with Superman. (Dick has his redhead squad or the titans, Jason ends up with Roy or someone else, Tim has Bernard and Kon, and Damian is starting to platonically be friends with Jon. Cass has found her soulmate in Stephanie.

(The Joker is a weird case where he has a soulmate that isn't born yet or died already, or he has no one and that why he is crazy and scars the Bat symbol on him as he sees his enemy with no soulmate either.)

Anyway, something big happens on earth, like an invasion, and the Bat is almost killed before a bright light descends upon the sky and removes the threat. Batman, once recovering his sight, sees the same masked alien man from before. Once they regroup, the masked man removes his helmet, and Bruce finally gets his soulmate connection. Danny has aged significantly since his first departure of earth and attempting to relearn earth's customs and figure out what happened with his family and friends.

( Jazz is soulmates with Talia and is in a secret relationship with her after Damian is made.

Sam is soulmates with Paulina but despises this, which causes her some mental instability, and refuses to acknowledge their bond, somehow still banking on Danny being her knight, and rebrands herself as Pamela Isley or Poison Ivy and finds love in Harley.

Tucker actually renames himself after Amity as Silas Stone and has a child. He works with Alien Tech to see if he can find his best friend again.

Dani is only made after Danny's return to earth but loves her indefinitely as he feels that the Portal had robbed him of a good life with offspring.

And Dan is working on his aggression in the zone.)

[alaynestcnes]

finally finished my asos reread. i forgot how diabolical the last chapters are like what do you mean we get deeply introspective jon admitting to his desires for winterfell and lordship and children and comparing ghost to a weirwood and ‘he belonged to the old gods, this one’ and then denying all his desires bc winterfell belongs to the old gods too and he chooses to deny his claim bc his love for the starks supersedes everything and then thinks of val up in her tower ‘i am not the man to steal you out of there’ and then immediately he’s raised up to lord commander and then next chapter we get sansa as a bastard abruptly waking up to snowfall and being drawn to the yard that was meant to be a godswood but no weirwood can take root and ‘the eyrie was no home’ and ‘a godswood without gods, as empty as me’ and ‘she stepped out all the same’ and then the snow is like lovers kisses and like innocence and dreams and she literally rebuilds winterfell out of snow but her momentary peace is shattered by ‘dawn stealing into her garden like a thief’ and men who only want her for her beauty and claim and then she’s almost thrown out of a tower. like oh my goddddd

[axelsagewrites]

Hii, I had a request...Robb and Jon having a crush on the same girl, maybe she could be the Bannerman daughter or something, just lots of teasing and rivalry and angst :)

Robb Stark and Jon Snow*Share

Pairing: Jon x f!reader, Robb x f!reader

Platonic: Sansa x reader

Word count: 3975

This is part one. Part two will be the smut.... (this was just too long to make into one part)

Masterlist Here

A/N: This is set with Sansa as being 15 and Robb, Jon, and the reader being 18. We’re also gonna pretend Westeros is still in a chill time with King Robert drinking away their money with Ned still alive and safe in Winterfell.

Robb and Jon were used to random Lords and Ladies staying at Winterfell for periods of time but when they saw their newest guest both had the same though. Gods she’s pretty. Your family where Bannerman’s of House Stark, ever loyal to Lord Eddard. Sansa had recently started whining, much to her brother’s dismay since it was all she talked about, that she had no need to be cared for by Septas or wet nurses any longer. She was determined she was old enough to not need to be constantly watched. However, when Catelyn suggested a lady in waiting Sansa jumped at the idea.

This was how you now stood in the courtyard at Winterfell, preparing to start your new journey. It was an honour for your house when you got the raven. Sansa was slightly younger than you, but you had remembered meeting her before at feasts and balls. You had also met Robb and Jon at these events but neither one had taken notice of you till now.

Robb slapped Jons shoulder to get his attention when he noticed you climbing out your carriage. “Is that (Y/N)?” he asked his half brother who looked up from where he was plucking arrows out the target he had just been practising with.

Jons eyebrows scrunched as he looked at the now woman who climbed out the carriage, “She did not look like that last time,” he said with a low voice.

“Tell me about it. Wait is she Sansa’s lady in waiting then?” he said, eyes not leaving the lady who was now being greeted in a hug by his mother.

“Your mother told us that last night,” Jon said rolling his eyes before glancing at the woman who was now merrily chatting with his half-sister, “Do you ever pay attention?”

“Not really,” Robb said with a chuckle as he took the bow from Jon, “Maybe I should from now on,” he joked. Robb did not attempt to hide his glances like Jon did. After all Jon was a bastard whereas Robb was used to the attention of the Northern ladies. However, this one had yet to look at either boy. “C’mon give me some arrows,” Robb said

“You hate archery,” Jon said despite handing him one of the arrows he had just plucked from the target. He moved back to allow Robb to line himself up with the target but couldn’t help noticing the glances he kept firing at (Y/N) while he began to load the bow. “Oh, gods you’re trying to woo her with your shit archery?” Jon smirked at his half-brother.

Robb shot Jon a glare, “Will you shut it?” he hissed glancing over to see if she had heard, which of course she had not, “Besides im not shit,”

“You’re not good,”

“Fuck you,”

“No thanks,”

“Fuck off Snow,”

Their scawbling however did get them noticed “Boys!” Catelyn called across the courtyard with a sharp look before turning back to the girls.

While Jon smirked Robb had noticed you looking over at him, a faint smile ghosting your lips that made him even more determined to show Jon he was wrong. Robbs eyes kept flickering back to you as he knocked his arrow and drew the string back. He enjoyed the feeling of your eyes on him as he did so. He finally turned his attention to the target. Taking a deep breath and rolling his shoulders back, he lined up his shot, breathed in then. Release.

The arrow hit the second inner ring of the target. Robb grinned to himself, knowing secretly that Jon was right about his shooting skills. But when he looked back, he realised you were no longer there. He sighed but when Jon began to laugh, he felt his skin grow hot. “Fuck up,” he said, shoving the bow back into Jons hands.

“You tried to woo her with archery, and she didn’t even stay to watch,” Jon couldn’t control his laughter. He had noticed you walking away as soon as Robb turned his attention to the target but did not say anything as he wanted to enjoy the view of you undisturbed. The bonus was of course his brother’s ego being knocked off its high horse.

“Please like you could do any better,” Robb grumbled as he retrieved the arrow.

“I could,” Jon said, chest puffed, and shoulders raised, “Girls like me,”

“What girls?” It was Robbs turn to laugh, “I can’t even imagine you flirting,”

“You tried to flirt with an arrow,” Jon shot back.

Robb rolled his eyes, “Mate trust me,” Robb said, putting a hand on Jons shoulder which he quickly shrugged off, “She likes me,”

“She’s been here for two minutes,” Jon rolled his eyes.

“We’ll see,”

“Yeah. We will,”

“Fine,”

“Good,”

“Whatever,”

Theon walked over to the bickering duo, “What are you two on about now?”

“Nothing,” The brothers said in unison before storming off in separate directions.

----

What did Robb know about girls anyway? Jon wondered as he walked the halls of Winterfell. Sure, he had girls’ attention because of his position but that doesn’t count. Besides Jon knew how to flirt. All be it he didn’t do it very often, but he was sure in theory he would do just fine. Why did Robb deserve you more than him anyway?

His mind soon went from frustration to thinking of you and suddenly his problems began to melt away. When he had noticed you, it was like all the air had been knocked out his lungs. Out of all the ladies he had seen you were by far the prettiest. The wide smile you wore when greeting his sister had warmed his heart from all the Norths cold. All he had been able to see was your hair and face due to the large clock you had been wearing but as his mind wandered, he couldn’t help but wondering what you looked like beneath it.

Jon was quickly snapped out his thoughts when he felt someone clash against his chest. His arm shoots out to grab the persons arm to steady them. “Apologies my- “Jon looked up to the person he had literally ran into and he felt his cheeks flush. “My lady I did not see you,” he stuttered, eyes flickering away from you in embarrassment.

“Jon?” You asked and he could hear the smile in your voice, “I hardly recognised you. It has been so long,” Jon couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face when he saw your wide grin. “You’ve grown,”

“As have you,” he said before his face fell, “not like that well like not in a bad way my lady- “

“It’s okay,” you laughed, “I know what you mean Jon. You have never been anything kind to me,”

Jon cleared his throat as he tried to stand tall, pretending he hadn’t made a complete arse of himself in front of you, “Are you off anywhere particular this evening my lady?”

“So formal,” you laughed hitting your shoulder as you continued your walk, Jon quickly turning to follow, “I was going to sneak to the kitchens to try squeeze a snack in before dinner. Mother forgot to pack us any food for our travels,”

“You don’t have to sneak my lady. You are a guest im sure lord stark would be more than happy to see you fed,”

“But is it not so much more fun this way?” you said in a low teasing voice, “I remember how we used to sneak away with Robb during feasts. Don’t act like you don’t like it this way,” Jon blushed at your words as a completely different potential scenario flashed across his mind, “Perhaps you could escort me to the kitchens?” your voice snapped him back to reality.

Jon cleared his throat, “Of course my lady,” Jon said as he took your arm you had outstretched to him.

You rolled your eyes as your arms linked, “You don’t need to be so formal Jon. No ones listening anyway. Besides we have so much caught up to do,” Jon had almost forgotten how chatty you had been but was glad to see the quality had not gone away.

Jon laughed along in your conversation, and grinned when his own jokes made loud laughs come from your mouth. Within minutes he was already so comfortable beside you like he had spent a lifetime by your side. However what Jon hadn’t noticed was Robb Starks icy glare when he spotted the two sneaking down the kitchen stairway.

---

When dinner time had rolled around you were informed by Sansa you would be joining the Starks at their table, which you found out included Jon which you were secretly pleased about. When you walked in the room the only ones at the table were Catelyn and Robb who grinned when you entered. You tried to hide your blush when you noticed his perfect smile. Robb had also changed from when you last saw him, and he had grown at least a head in height.

At both ends of the table sat a larger chair, one of which Catelyn was currently occupying. Three chairs ran down one side of the table, four on the other. Robb sat beside his mother on the side with three chairs, leaving two left. “Lady (y/n),” he greeted when you entered, “I hadn’t known you were joining us my lady,” he had. He had asked his mother who shot him a silent questioning look, “Allow me,” he said as he pulled the chair next to him out for you.

You laughed lightly as you took your seat, Robb pushing it in for you with a smile before taking his own chair. Sansa rolled her eyes at her brothers’ antics as she sat beside you, “She’s my friend not yours,” she grumbled.

“Sansa!” Catelyn said sharply, “She is our guest as much as she is your lady,” you did your best to not laugh but a small smile graced your lips, “Sorry about that (Y/N),” she said with a sorry smile.

“Its okay Lady Catelyn,” you said.

“Call me Cat,” she said with a smile, but the conversation was interrupted as the youngest three Starks sprinted into the room. “Behave you lot,” Cat said as she helped the youngest Rickon into the chair beside her. Bran and Arya took the two closest chairs to the empty one at the head of the table, leaving the one across from you free. Robb mentally scowled at his siblings but figured sitting beside you had the far superior advantage.

When Jon arrived, their father was with him and as the two took their seats the food was brought out. The way you and Jon smiled at each other made Robb wanna roll his eyes, but he resisted as he acted the perfect gentleman. As dinner went on Sansa kept stealing your attention which Robb figured was at least better than Jon doing so. He thought he would never get to talk to you.

Until that is you turned to him, “Don’t you think so too Robb?” your voice brought him back from his daydreaming about you. he hummed in response as he came out his daze, “I was saying to Sansa how she should go horse riding more often. Riding can be so thrilling after all,” Robb tried not to blush when he thought of what he would rather you be riding. “You do still enjoy horse riding?” you said with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh yeah of course,” he said quickly, “Sorry my mind has been preoccupied lately,” he said causing Jon to roll his eyes, “but Sansa trust her there are few things better than it. (Y/N) always knew how to have fun,” he said with a smile which made you blush and quickly turn to face Sansa, but Robb had saw it. he looked at Jon with a slight smirk which only made the boy roll his eyes and look away. When Robb heard Sansa and you discussing plans to go riding tomorrow, he had a plan.

-----

Robb wasn’t being weird by being close by the stables around the time he knew you would be coming by. He just was tending to his own horse. Definitely of course, a complete accident that he was there when you appeared with Sansa in tow laughing about something. “Robb,” you exclaimed when you noticed him, “Are you joining us?” you said glancing at Sansa.

Sansa quickly shook her head saying a firm no. Robb rolled his eyes at his little sister, “I was just tending to my horse my lady,”

“That’s sweet,” you said as Sansa went off to retrieve her mother’s horse which she had said she could borrow before they decided to get her one of her own, “So many lords just toss their reigns aside when they’re done,”

Robb chuckled as he stepped away from his horse and followed you to yours, “Do you ride often my lady?”

“I try to at least go a few times a week,” you said as you took you went to saddle your horse only for Robb to step in.

“Allow me,” he said as he readied your horse for you.

You laughed gently, stepping back to allow him to do so, “Thanks Robbie,” you said as he did up the leather and clasped.

Robb couldn’t help his blush at the nickname you had been using with him since childhood, “Its no problem,” he assured before stepping back from the horse, “That’s you all set,”

“Help me up?” you asked as you stepped closer to the horse. Robb couldn’t help but notice your slight smirk when you had asked and with a quick inhale and a sudden wave of confidence, he stepped forward to pick you up by your hips and place you on your horse. You giggled as he did so and quickly steady yourself on the saddle, “I didn’t realise how strong you had got,”

Robb grinned at your comment, “Thank you my lady. Sometimes I don’t notice my own strength,”

“Then I feel bad for whoever ends up at the other end of your sword,” you laughed.

“You should watch me practise someday,” Robb said, “I do almost everyday at the training grounds,”

“I’ll have to stop by sometime,” you smiled down at him as Sansa trotted over on her horse. “Ready?” you asked the girl.

“I am if you stop flirting with my brother,” she smirked before riding out of the stable. Robb would’ve been embarrassed if he had not seen how your face had flushed and how you quickly rode after her. wait till Jon heard what you had been saying.

----

“You can’t just grab a ladies’ hips,” Jon said, wide eyed. The pair were in the training yard getting ready to practise some sparring.

Robb smirked, “Really? Cause I did,” he said as he grabbed his practise sword off the rack, “Good hips by the way,” Jon rolled his eyes at his brothers’ antics, “You’re just mad that she likes me,”

“Maybe she was blushing because she was so embarrassed at the idea of flirting with you,” Jon said making Robb grumble, “At least she thinks im funny,” he added while he took his stance across from Robb.

Robb struck first. “Funny looking,” he said as their swords clashed.

“Fuck up,” he snapped, and Robb grinned. The grin fell when Jon took his own strike, quicker than Robb and harder too, “Are you really gonna let a girl come between us?”

As soon as Robb caught up to his brother’s speed, he replied, “If you won’t admit she likes me and not you then yeah,” Robb smirked only making his brother groan and knock Robb hard enough to drop his sword.

Robb cursed under his breath as he picked it up and took stance again. However, as he was doing this Robb happened to notice a certain someone walking into the training yard, arms linked with his sister. Robbs jaw almost dropped as he saw the new dress you must have recently made that was far more form showing than any of your other cloaks had been. He could see your curves even under the thick fabric and it made him strike his next blow even harder.

Jon was almost caught off guard at his brother’s seriousness however he had sparred with Robb long enough to know he only fought like this when he was angry. While he didn’t see the anger in his eyes, he knew how he would mess up. Jon only had to spar another few blows with the Tully boy before his footing got sloppy and Jon was able to knock his legs out from under neath him. “Cheap shot,” Robb spat as he pulled himself up from the hard ground.

Soft claps rang out over the training ground and Jon spun to see what had caused his brothers sudden intensity. And gods did he understand when he saw the smile perched on your lips as you clapped for him. Jon turned back to his brother with a smirk, “You’re just made she likes me,” he said emulating his previous words.

Robbs sword moved before Jon even had a chance to raise his own causing him to need to duck to dodge the blow. Sansa had never seen her brothers practise with such intensity or for any of their sparring to last so long. she glanced at you who was watching the pair intently and suddenly seemed to realise her brothers’ peculiar actions for the past week. “We should go,” she said softly.

At this point Robb had just managed to knock Jon to his feet. Again, you clapped before reluctantly drawing your eyes away and continuing your walk with Sansa. You couldn’t resist waving to the pair however as you were walking past. You smiled at the dopey grins on their faces as they waved back.

----

For the next few weeks, the pair continued their relentless bickering and it turned into a competition of sorts. Every time one managed a private moment alone with you the other was around the corner to get the same. Jon would go out of his way to escort you to places you already knew the way to such as the kitchens or gods wood, but you never complained, enjoying his jokes along the way. Robb began to escort you and his sisters horse rides, much to Sansa’s annoyance, and suddenly took far more of an interest in the library after he noticed your frequent visits. One of Robbs favourite sights was watching as you curled up with a book in an armchair by the fire in the library. He thought you didn’t notice his shameless stares and gazes, but you had.

You had also noticed the way Jons cheeks tinged pink each time you laughed at his joke or touched his arm. Robb did not blush the way Jon did, but you began to notice his lingering touches when he helps you on your horse or past you a book off the top shelf. The attention was something you had grown rather fond of and weren’t about to complain about.

Sansa however was a different story. She was sick of her brothers bickering, something all the Starks agreed upon but only she had noticed why. She was also sick of her brothers both crashing her talks with you or stealing you away. “You do realise they’re both totally in love with you?” she asked as you sat with her in her chambers doing some embroidery, the one place they wouldn’t disturb you.

You blushed at her words, “I wouldn’t say they’re in love,”

“Okay but you do know that they like you like you,” she clarified rolling her eyes. You had grown fond of the admittedly sassy Sansa Stark, “They’re gonna end up killing each other,”

“That’d be no fun,” you fake pouted before laughing as she rolled her eyes, “What do you want me to do? I didn’t ask them to fight over me,” even as you said it the words felt silly. Sansa sat her threads down, giving you the classic Sansa face you had grown to hate and love all at once. “Fine, I’ll talk to them,”

“Thank you,” she smirked before turning back to her threads, “Maybe they’ll finally give us some peace,” she said and all you could do was laugh at the irony of her demanding your attention while being upset about her brothers doing the same.

---

You hadn’t expected to talk to the boys as soon as you left but as you were walking from Sansa’s chambers to go find them you paused when you heard Robbs voice around the corner. “Maybe you should just back off,”

“Why do I need to back of?” When you heard Jons voice you slowly crept closer to the corner, pressing yourself against the wall just before the bend to hear properly, “Not everything is about you Stark,”

“Same for you Snow,” the venom was practically dripping off their voices. It would be concerning if the sound hadn’t sent a shiver up your spine at the hotness of the situation. The two most handsome men in Winterfell arguing over you? how could you complain?

“Well maybe we let her choose,” Jon said.

“Maybe we should,” Robb spat back.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to reveal yourself as you walked round the corner. Jons eyes grew wide when he saw you emerge and Robb quickly spun on his heels, his jaw slackening slightly at the sight. “My lady- “he began to stutter.

You held your hands up and he quickly stopped. You took a deep breath as you glanced around the corridors, “I think its time we had a little talk,” you said to the boys as you walked closer. The two almost hung their heads in shame, “Let’s go somewhere more private,” you said as you brushed past them and began to walk to your chambers.

The pair followed silently, tails between their legs when they realised, they had been caught. “This is your fault,” Robb mumbled but he groaned when Jon stuck his elbow into his side.

Luckily your room was not far, and you were soon ushering the pair in, latching the door behind you before facing them with your back pressed against the door. “What exactly am I supposed to be choosing?” you asked, eyebrow raised with a secret idea toying in your mind.

“My lady we can explain,” Jon began to stammer, cheeks going that cute shade of pink again, “Robb and I well we- “

“We both have an affection for you,” Robb continued trying to sound confident, but his voice failed him, “And we have been uh debating,” Robb said causing you to laugh.

“Debating?” you questioned, “It sounded more like an argument,” this time it was Robbs turn to blush.

Jon continued for his brother, “We just were trying to figure out which one of us you liked. Assuming you do like one of us,”

“I might,” you said with a slight smirk causing both boys heads to snap up, their eyes watching you intently.

“Well, which one of us is it?” Robb asked with eager eyes. He was internally praying to the gods to give him some luck or at least to have him swallowed up by the grounds if he was wrong about your affection. Jon was silently thinking the same.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, “Who said it was one of you?” you said with a slight smirk. Both boys looked confused at your words. Pushing yourself off the door, you walked closer to the pair, “Would it be so bad if I didn’t choose? Were you not taught how to share?”

Part Two Here - Competition

Game of Thrones Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy

[moss-on-trees]

dp x dc prompt: everything is the same except danny's dimension is one where more kryptonians escaped and landed on earth, assimilating into the population, or part-kryptonian!danny au

the reason why nobody's shocked about the way jack fenton breaks down walls is because about 15% of the world population descends from kryptonian refugees who landed much earlier than clark did. (a big part of danny's space obsession comes from his grandma's stories about her home planet.) this can be seen in small things, like the fact that part of their language has evolved to include kryptonian slang. danny's kryptonian name is dan-el.

this doesn't feel weird to him until he finds dead kryptonians in the ghost zone who tell him about this other dimension where there are only a handful of survivors. once he learns that they are also members of the house of el, he ropes in his dad - who knows about him being phantom -, jazz and dani, and goes to visit them (after learning how to make portals, obviously)

clark's not sure how to feel about his interdimensional relatives but kon and jon are overjoyed and want to learn all the kryptonian slang.

[annabelle--cane]

it's fascinating to me the way that different social media platforms result in different types of fandom behavior. while s5 of tma was airing, I spent a good amount of time on tma tiktok (I log back in about once every two months now, going back to in-person school after a year a half of lockdown seem to re-blanace my brain and made me once again not really enjoy the format) while still using tumblr as my main socmed, and while there was a lot of overlap in the fan culture, some things were notably different.

tumblr tma fans had near-encyclopedic knowledge of the source material, but it was kind of an ongoing joke for tiktok tma fans that everyone binged the whole show in a week-long fugue state and lost memory of about 35% of it. tumblr has virtually no character limit and allows posts to be passed around by users indefinitely, which lends itself to fairly in-depth meta analysis being made and shared until most any fan could say "the time and space discrepancies at hill top road? psh yeah, I know all about them, I've read seven scrupulously cited posts that lay out all the details." for the entire time that s5 was airing, tiktok videos could still only be a minute long, and I know from a lot of personal effort that there's only so much you can fit into a one minute script that you also have to memorize and record (and cc manually with tiktok text stickers, as they didn't add the caption feature until april 2021) if you want the process to take less than four hours of your one mortal human life. and then you only see the video if your following or fyp algorithm shows it to you. there were a few tma meta-ish videos that got popular because other people would make their own videos referencing them and tag the account so their followers could see what they were talking about, but it's much harder to circulate content you like there. several times I saw people post videos saying "I got into cosplay to film some [agnes or annabelle or gerry or another secondary character] and I just realized I have no idea what their deal actually is 💀".

a thing that tiktok tma fandom was definitely better at than tumblr tma fandom was accurately remembering certain pieces of characterization and the flow of certain scenes. I've seen a bunch of posts on here where someone is trying to argue a point with excerpts from the text ("x character is nicer than you all give them credit for" "x character is so mean to y character in this scene" "z theory can't be true because y character said a line that disproves it") where the argument only holds up because the poster has gotten these excerpts from a transcript dive and hasn't listened to the episodes they're from recently, because while the text alone can be construed to mean one thing, the way it's delivered on-podcast clearly intends another. tiktok, being an audio and video based medium, allows audio clips to be shared around a lot, and cosplayers would often all make videos acting along to the same show clips of juicy interpersonal drama, and so tiktok fans, though they may have had less overall memory of what characters said, always had a better grasp on how they said it. an average tiktok tma fan might not have remembered melanie's subplot about war ghosts, but they would know the nuances of how the way she talks to jon changes between mag 28 and mag 155.

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

The Song of Ice and Fire (DARK BOOKMOND X STARKREADER/OC)

Aemond (book) x Reader

🔷Summary: After getting kidnapped on your way to King's Landing, you end up in another time where you meet a dangerous prince.

🔷Author's note: Either hit or miss with this one

🔷Wordcount :6756

🔷Warnings: This is Bookmond because im a little too sad to write showaemond atm. Bookaemond is my deranged honeybee he can do nothing wrong. Ok almost nothing.

WARNINGS: Kidnapping, drugging, forced marriage and war crimes and aemond being a sexist little bitch. Also spankings.

Maybe it was for the best. You always dreamt of leaving the cold and quiet town of Winterfell behind. You dreamt of a bigger, exciting life. A life of tourneys, of exciting feasts, of noble men fighting for your hand. It should have been as simple as that.

Except it wasn’t.

Sansa, your sister is going to be the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Your father would be the hand of the king, one of the highest positions at court.  You, Arya, and her will soon travel with him to King’s Landing.

Until something happened.

Something unexplainable.

And something terrible.

Lately, your dreams have been getting worse. From nightmares that you didn’t pay any mind to darker things, things you barely could keep to yourself. Nightmares and dreams filled with unexplainable things, unknown faces and the death rising and marching. 

_____________

It is clear to you that your mind is simply toying with you. You are likely nervous for the future that awaits you. You are nervous for the suitors you’ll meet and that your life finally will begin. It will just be like all the romantic novels you read. It will be ball after ball and feast after feast.

Your dreams always start the same way. You are alone, surrounded by trees as big as towers, in the snowy woods. You hear the sound of the crispy snow as you set feet on it, moving in any direction, to find something. Home, you assume. The stars above your head are the only light to guide you, and it is unforgivably dark in the cold forest.

The cold winter winds pick up and toy with your hair, sending it in all directions. You never know why, but you always turn your head slightly sideways. You can’t control it. You don’t have a say. As a chestpiece moving over the board, you do as you are told by someone controlling you. 

It is always a surprise to see the wall close by, no matter how many times you have dreamt this dream. The majestic tall, ancient structure that has been here long before you were born and will be there long after you have gone. Something about it tells you are not supposed to be here. You feel chills.

You had heard reasons why the wall was built. Wildlings, mostly. The Nightwatch was installed to guard the wall, to make sure no threat could climb over it. You know your brother, Jon, dreams of becoming a brave member of the Nightwatch. It is all the honor he will gain as a bastard anyway. You are the same as his twin sister. But your father kept your bastardy a secret.

But the most important reason why the wall was built was the threat of white walkers. Cold, icy and deadly soldiers of an army without needs and without a will, forced to march forever beyond the wall. And when you are all the way North, you can only go one way: South.

You knew it wasn’t true. You knew when your father told you about them, they weren’t real. But any Northern child grows up with the same tales. Creatures with eyes as blue as ice, that could freeze you in pure terror so they could easily squeeze your eyeballs out of your head, killing you. A fun tale in a tavern. But not in the castle. 

You aren’t a foolish girl, no matter what the world tells you. You don’t believe those lies. You never did. You are not as brave as Arya perhaps or as pretty and polite as Sansa but you never believe in those ghost stories.

But here, in your dreams, beyond the wall and far away from your safe warm room at Winterfell, even someone as skeptical as you could understand why people believed those stories.

What would come next in your dreams was also always the same. You turn your head away from the wall. In the far distance, you can make out someone standing there, holding a lantern. The person is hooded, unrecognizable. But the person would always lift the lantern, and wave with it. Your eyes follow the movements, as the light of the lantern becomes brighter and brighter, shedding light over the forest, making the snow almost look like liquid gold.

It always seems so magical, as a scam shopkeepers tell their far too trusting clients before selling them magical rocks or potions. You know the hooded person never reveals themselves. You tried running at them, screaming, but you couldn’t move nor speak.

Then, you notice you are standing on something. A great lake, made of ice. Gone are the trees of the forest. Through the ice, you make out the skeleton of a human being. Someone from a long time ago. You watch the skeleton, wondering how long ago this person met their end, and how. And beneath the ice, poking halfway out of it, is a steel forged sword with a black handle. The tip of it is still in the ice, covered in a dark rusty coat of old blood. You notice your hands reach for the sword, picking it out of the ice.

The sword feels different than most swords. Lighter, better to wield. Safer. It feels like wielding one of your own arms. It feels safe, comfortable. Yours. Impossible. Ladies do not wield weapons. Not such obvious ones, at least. Ladies wield lies, poison, tricks, schemes. 

You turn to the hooded figure, sword in hand, still standing on the ice, with the skeleton safely beneath your feet. The hooded figure is gone. As is the light. The world is once again covered in darkness. It is suffocating you, in a way. 

Fear and anxiety fight inside of you, as you try to get off the ice. But you can’t move. Not anymore. It is not your body, anymore. You don’t have a say, anymore.

The sword is starting to hurt your inexperienced arms, and you try at all cost to drop the weapon. Your head snaps as you hear the sound of something you never heard before, but somehow you  know exactly what it is. A dragon’s roar.

You never felt fear like that, as you look around the lake for any sign of a dragon. But instead you are met with a thin skeleton made of ice and rotting flesh that reaches out with their hands, trying to grab you. A white walker.

You scream.

But before he could grab you, drag you into the lake with him…

You wake up.

You sit straight up in your bed, clutching the sheets of your bed. Your heart is still beating and your fear hasn’t left your mind yet. You are glad to see you are in your rooms, at Winterfell. Several familiar stuffed animal toys glance back at you from their spots on high shelves, calming your troubled mind instantly. You are coming of age so put some of them away, but unlike Sansa, you could never throw them out. 

You climb out of bed and prepare yourself for the exciting day ahead. The day your life will change forever. You just had no idea how much. And how terribly.

As always, Winterfell is busy. Servants go about their day, greeting you with nods or smiles as they carry in potatoes or walk around with freshly washed linen.

Your father and ‘’mother’’, brothers and sisters are already at the table, gathered for breakfast. They seem to have been waiting just for you. You greet them with a relieved smile. The food smells delicious and makes your stomach rumble in unladylike ways. You sit down on your chair and begin eating. 

You can almost hear Lady Catalyn’s thoughts. Everyone seems to know it. This might  be the final time you might all be together. This is goodbye, in a way. Jon will go to the wall, and you and your sisters to King’s Landing. 

You grab an apple and begin biting down on it, while also making yourself a cup of nice honey tea. You can not wait to leave the boring North and the nightmares finally behind. The north is a boring and cold place. Nothing exciting ever happened. Your sister, Sansa, also looks more happy than usual. Normally, she is grumpy at this hour.

‘’Do we need to leave soon?’’ Arya mutters next to her, playing with a fork and a potato. Your parents share a look, and your father speaks to the youngest Lady of house Stark. 

Even with their differences, their arguments and their fighting, you can see that Arya dreads the day that her and her  would leave for the capital. She likely wants to remain here, in the cold North forever. Eddard speaks, smiling with pride and joy and you feel jealous of how easy Sansa will become the Queen. ‘’Sansa will be the Queen. I will become the hand of the King if all goes well. Perhaps you’ll like King’s Landing.’’ Arya’s brown eyes fill with worry at imaginary scenarios. She looks at her sister, who always was said to be prettiest and who always has focussed on how to be a lady. She imagined King’s Landing would be filled with Sansas.

‘’No, thank you.’’ she mutters. Yet she does not have a choice.

You begin eating the apple first. At that moment, Maester Luwin comes from the courtyard, bringing likely fresh news, plucked from a raven. He brings the news first to your parents, the Lord and Lady of Winterfell.  ‘’Lady Lynantha is expected to be escorted to King’s Landing today. Her carriage is already here.’’ You drop your apple, distraught as all eyes are on you. ‘’Why aren't we traveling together?’’ You ask your father. He does not meet your eyes. 

‘’I received a letter. A nobleman from King’s Landing, one of King Robert’s nephews, wishes to get to know you. It is of importance that you leave right away.’’ You know why. There are rumors you aren’t a true born Stark. That you are a bastard. Rumors that are likely true.

You understand. You are eager to leave, in a way. Lady Stark stands up from her seat. ‘’I wish you well, Lyantha.’’ You never liked her. She never liked you. But you do respect her. You nod, respectful as you make a final curtsy. 

Luwin coughs, reminding you all that time is not on your side. You finally stand as well, excusing yourself as you mutter. ‘’I must pack for the journey-’’ You will need clothing, books, maybe jewelry.

‘’O, there is no need, truly.’’ An almost magical light voice rings out. A woman with raven dark hairs, a green gown with beautiful gold patterns stitched onto her skirt greets you with a curtsy. ‘’The Capital has everything you could need.’’ She assures you, a sweet but horrible hollow smile on her lips. The Lady makes a bow for her as well. ‘’I am Lady Alys Rivers. I have come to escort you to your Prince.’’ You know that Rivers is a last name used for bastards and commoners, and wonder silently how someone as Alys could have acquired such a position at the royal court. But you would never dare to voice that concern. Of course not. A prince, a title, it is almost too good to be true. ‘’A prince?’’ You ask, beaming with excitement. Sansa huffs, and you see Alys nod, almost a little too pleased with your excitement. 

The woman smiles as if you two are long lost friends. ‘’A true born royal, a fierce skilled warrior and an intelligent man. Few are blessed in so many ways.’’ You are certain your smile only grows.

He sounds so charming.

So perfect.

So kind and gentle and gallant and strong. 

‘’Very well.’’ You say. Your father is the first to hug you, whispering in your ear that you’ll always be a Stark, and his little girl. If you have trouble, you could write to him and he’d be there before you could blink with your eyes.  

The Starks remain loyal and firmly rooted outside in the yard as the carriage slowly departs to the roads, leaving Winterfell behind. Such sorrow the Starks all share And such more sorrow they would share if they had known what would become of Lynantha.

–

The carriage is comfortable and to your liking. It is warm as a mother’s embrace and has soft pillows that make the long journey comfortable. You imagined you would stay at multiple ins down the King’s road. Lady Alys has been nothing but kind to you, offering you sweets and cake when the landscape and scenery outside of the window changed. 

The lemon cakes you eat are heavy on your stomach, and soon you feel tired. Exhausted for some reason. It must be the weird nightmares that kept you up. 

As a true future Princess, you  try to stay awake in the carriage but the more she fight against the instinct to sleep, the more tired you become.  Eventually, you fall asleep in the carriage.

This time you too dream of the strange sword, the strange lady with the Lantern and the wall. But you can hear a voice this time as well. ‘’Do not go to the wall! Return! You don’t know what you are unleashing!’’ You can not place the voice, and you assume it belongs to the lantern lady. But when you look at the normally covered lady, you see Alys instead, wearing the common cloak and dress, holding the same lantern. Her eyes are red and sinister, burning like hellfire and her smile spreads wider than it should.

Once again, you wake up panting and breathing heavily. Alys is still near you, calmly knitting. You had hoped if you left the North, the nightmares would end. ‘’Welcome back, my Princess.’’ Alys says as she finishes her knitwork. ‘’We are almost there. Just a bit longer.’’ And at that moment, you notice a familiar basket that is half covered with a blanket on the floor. You would recognize that basket everywhere. And to be in King’s Landing so fast….Something is wrong.

‘’You don’t work for the King do you?’’ You ask, your voice soft and trembling. ‘’You’re not taking me to King’s Landing.’’

Alys only smiles, putting her needles and knitting work away. ‘’Just sit tight. I need to bring you to him alive, he didn’t say in what state.’’ He? Who is he?

You have many more questions, but you are not stupid. That was a clear threat and an order to shut up and so you will.

The carriage finally approaches its final destination. And halts.

When you look outside, all you can see is darkness. And the ominous yet sparkling stars above the carriage. Just as in my dreams.

It feels much colder here. And that smell. The smell of iron and snow. Alys takes her time with putting her hood on, and as you had  expected by now the hood had the same pattern as that of the Lantern lady. She smiles as she opens  the door. You don’t know what she wants. But it can’t be good. And you are not coming with her.

You clings to the carriage instead, refusing to follow Alys. ‘’No! I’m not coming with you! Bring me back!’’ You demand. 

Alys only chuckles and pulls harder, pulling you easily from the carriage as a flower being plucked. She puts you outside the carriage.

In the cold snow you take a good look at your surroundings, looking for any help or signs. And there it is. You turn around, as if you can already feel its presence. The looming tall wall of the North.

And you are clearly beyond it.

’Are you mad?!’’ you lash out at Alys. ‘’You have endangered us both! Who knows what’s out there.’’ Alys ignores you, shining her lantern around the ground, searching for something.

You rub your cold arms, regretting you didn’t bring a coat with you. The snow storm only grows worse and worse, as a storm unleashing upon a town. 

You look back at the wall, before stumbling on something beneath your feet, buried in the cold snow. Just like in your dream. And just like in your dream it is the sword. For a moment, you think about picking it up and threatening Alys with it. You reach out to grab it. ‘’What did you find there?’’Alys’s voice rings out, closer to you than she was before. You try to pick the sword up, but Alys is faster. She has a strange smirk on her lips when you backed away from the now armed woman. ‘’Such a good girl, finding the sword. I’ll tell him that you found it.’’ There’s that ‘’him’’ again. 

You become even more uncomfortable at her clearly condescending compliment, and for some reason she is more angry with you than before. Is it because you found the sword? And not her?  ‘’Now come. He’s not known for his patience.’’  You look back at the Wall. Alys sighs, clearly annoyed. ‘’Or you can stay out here in the cold and freeze to death.’’ She adds, with a careless shrug. ‘’I don’t mind.’’ She is right. You know she is. And you hate her for it. You won’t survive out here on your own.

The two of you approach a lake that is somehow not frozen despite the cold.  It is not the lake with the skeleton. You can tell. Red and green and black and yellow flowers grow around it too, and everything about it seems to confirm that this is nothing but just a dream. But you can’t wake up.

Alys grabs your arm, walking to the lake. You resist bravely but end up in the water regardless, yelping expecting cold, freezing water. But it does not feel cold. It does not feel warm. It does not feel anything, truly. It feels…soulless. Dead, in a way. 

Alys and you approach the deeper part, where you can no longer stand. Before you can ask what is happening, she pushes you underwater. You gulp, as water fills your lungs, convinced you will die. You close your eyes and at the moment you have given up all hope, something beneath you seems to open, and you fall down.

—

Your body is drifting between both space and time for a while, until someone pulls you up by your hair, and out of the waters, back into the world of the living. You gasp for air, spitting out the water and cling to the ground, looking around you as you thank the gods you are alive.

You are still near a lake. Just not the one you nearly drowned in. You look at the skies, and it is day as well. How long have I been gone?

This lake has flowers in just green colors, and has ruined walls around it, likely belonging to a palace from a time long ago. You look around and notice your captor calmingly sitting next to you, making a crown out of flowers. She drops her crown the moment she sees you have awakened. You can only glare at her, too stunned for anything else.

You hiss at her, close to strangling her. She cackles. ‘’You’re finally awake. I was worried you didn’t survive our little magic trip.’’ You sit up, taking in more and more of your surroundings, the sun warming your wet clothing, as you look at the ruins of a castle and people passing you both. 

You jump to your feet, ignoring your soaked clothing as you rush to a soldier. ‘’Hey, Hey! I need help! She abducted me!’’ You yell. The soldier takes one good look at you, before he sees Alys. Alys cracks her head sideways, causing bones to crack. That is all it takes for him to take off running. 

You huff, in disbelief and anger. ‘’Craven!’’ You shout, as he rushes off. Next to you, Alys doubles over cackling once more. She finds this extremely funny, for some  reason. She lays a hand on your arm, smiling at you.

You instantly shrug it off, disgusted. She doesn’t seem to even care, still smiling. 

‘’Come. We are almost here.’’ She says. You can do two things. You can dive back into the lake, and likely drown, or you can come with this woman. Both aren’t smart things to do. Alys offers her hand again.

At that moment, you spot a nice, big rock, just a few steps away from you. Most people here don’t care for abuctuees. They won’t care for murder either, you think. No one would know. No one would judge. And no one would tell.

This woman is a threat to your safety. And so you grabbed the rock, and tried to get Alys on her back. The woman cackled again, much to your annoyance. You did manage to get her on her back, and raise the rock skyhigh, ready to deliver the deadly blow. Alys laughs, before spitting in your face. Disgusted and caught off guard, you drop the rock. ‘’It seems we need to watch ourselves around you.’’

‘’Come, we must not let him wait any longer.’’ There it is again. 

You know you are going to regret going with Alys but you don’t have a say. Not anymore. ‘’Who is this him you speak of?’’ Perhaps the mysterious prince, her lover, or an enemy of Joffrey. It has to be.

Or, a Targaryen. You snort, in your head. The Targaryens had been defeated, like their dragons and their ancestors alike. They would not bother you or anyone else on the Westeros continent again.

‘’Your prince, of course.’’ There is something strange in her voice. Almost a scoff or an inside joke that you had yet to understand. However you perked up at hearing those words.

‘’The match my father arranged?’’ you ask. ‘’Is he here?’’ It couldn’t be. Could it? It would not explain the lake, the change of time, the wall, anything of it. But the thought that you soon would see your handsome prince again, gives you some hope.

Alys ignored you and did not confirm nor deny anything as the two of you walked to the castle gates. As you approach, you notice countless freshly dug graves. You gulp. You try to remember what castle this could possibly be. 

And that’s when you see it. The ruins remind you of a more polished version of the castle of Harrenhall. The cursed castle and the castle where dragon fire still burns to this day. The walls look younger, time has not been as cruel as it has been now. The fire burns, as always. 

The thing that scares you most, were the gates. Someone had put heads on the spikes, heads of people who all had their eyes wide open and full of terror of whatever killed them. A killer. A monster.

The smell makes you sick. And judging by their smell, they had been here quite a while. Alys doesn’t even bat a eye at the dead. But she did grab your right hand, dragging you inside of the castle. 

The doors open the moment Alys approaches them, her head high as a true queen. You walk next to her, your thoughts spiraling. 

You have just a moment to glance up at the banners decorating the outer walls. And you wish you hadn’t. An unfamiliar yet known sigil hangs there, proudly paraded by the wind and kept in place with pins.  You would recognize the three headed dragon everywhere. The Targaryens. But how? 

Yet this one looks different. Alys drags you in, the moment you finally draw the conclusion that this is the sigil of no other than King Aegon II.  The gold and the green made that clear. But what are his banners doing here, nearly hundred years after his passing? Unless….

You already felt sick because of the dead outside the gate, and now you feel even worse as an irrational and terrible fear begins to form in your head. A fear so insane that it can’t be true, but how can you deny what is right in front of you? Have I truly….?

Alys drags you with her, into the castle halls and into the throne room. The door has no guards. You can hear someone playing with a blade, sharpening it. You feel shivers and cold, in your wet clothes.

Alys gives you a push in your back, sending you into the room on your own.

‘’I’ve brought you something.’’ She says, her smile barely containing her pride. 

Whoever is there, they didn’t bother to open the curtains or to light candles. A truly terrifying conclusion. 

You trip over your dress, and fall. You regained just enough balance to land on your knees, instead of flat on your face. You know whoever is waiting here, orchestrated this whole thing. And if your gut is right, you know who it is. 

You laugh, quietly. You must be crazy, expecting an actual Targaryen prince to await you here. Stir crazy. But what other explanation is there? Why else bother with old banners, why else does the castle look better than it ever did in your time? 

You glance up at the man sitting the throne, his legs calmly placed on the arms of the lavious throne he sits upon. He is indeed sharpening a catspaw dagger, and his lips have the faint impression of a smirk and a smile blended into one as he takes in your soaked clothing and angry glare. Alys opens some curtains.

And the moment you do see his face, it feels as a relief and a shock at once. Relief because you were right. But also a shock because how, how can you possibly be right? 

You were treated as a silly little girl. You can only think of one reason why the banners were here, why the castle looked so good and why the dead were rotting above the gates. And this man’s face confirms it all.

In front of you, is no one else but Aemond Targaryen ‘’one eye’’ the Kinslayer of House Targaryen. You know him from the history books you have read. But those books barely mention him. Aside from his death and his atrocities at Harrenhal. 

And yet, here he stands. In front of you, alive and well. He is a true Targaryen with sharp classic Valyrian features like piercing eyes, and very light, almost silver coloured hair. 

He finally stopped sharpening his dagger, curiosity written all over his face as he takes you in, sitting on the floor, at his feet and glaring at him. He can’t help but smirk.

You glare. Whatever it was that is going on, it is all his doing. You can tell. And that prince Alys promised you would meet, that is him. A cruel joke on her behalf. You glare at her too. She simply makes another curtsy cackling once again.

Slowly, a smile creeps on his lips, amused by the audacity. ‘’I take it she was a smart lass and obeyed?’’ The question is aimed at Alys and you physically feel your stomach turn even worse by his words. 

You had not been a ‘’smart lass’’. If anything, you had acted insanely dumb. You resisted, you tried to kill Alys. You tried to run. You tried to resist in every way possible and more. 

You cross your arms, tired. Alys beams as she tells Aemond what has happened between the two of you, happy to see you punished by her Prince. ‘’She tried to kill me with a rock.’’ 

His face tilts, and although he tries to appear uninterested and cold, even a simple man could read the anger and murderous emotions in his eye.  ‘’I will see to that she’s punished for that.’’ He promises his loyal servant. To that, Alys smiles.

Aemond smiles at you, in a condescending way. You glance between him and Alys, aware you are in trouble now. ‘’I am not yours to punish.’’ He is not your husband, nor your king or father. No one should decide what happens to you but you. Your voice doesn’t sound scared or angry. Just annoyed.

Aemond shifts his legs, angry at your carelessness and casual behaviour. He slams his hands on the arms of the throne, causing you to flince briefly. He stands up, and you finally see just how tall he truly is. And how fast he stands in front of you. He sinks to his knees, the green leather cracking. He clearly enjoys the way you flinch as he reaches out to touch your chin and your cheeks, feeling your soft delicate skin beneath his fingers. He finally bothers to address you. ‘’Of course you are, Little Wolfling. If you touch and damage something that is mine, you will be punished.’’ He reveals. 

You understand finally that Alys is more than just his servant. They have a relationship. He loves her. And you tried to kill her. You must try to talk your way out of this. ‘’Your lady did not explain why I was taken from my home and lied to.’’ You hope he becomes more understanding of how terrifying all of this is for you.

Alys snorts and Aemond laughs. You curse quietly in your head. That was a failed attempt. ‘’As I ordered her. Alys obeys well and listens. You can learn a thing or two from her.’’ He tells you, finally getting up from the ground. 

Somehow, that makes you angry. The idea that he now thinks you will help him as some spineless pet and roll over for him when he wishes so, it makes you so furious that you are close to pulling him back by his eyepatch to slam his head against the stone floor. You do not have the sword anymore. 

You only have your clothes.

And …

Oh.

You patiently wait until his back is turned to your front, before sliding your shoe off and aiming at his head. You throw the shoe as hard as possible and it ends up hitting him perfectly on his head.

Confused, he turns around, looking for who dared to have hit him. When he notices you, smirking very proudly and missing one shoe, something changes. And you regret even blinking in his direction.

Prince Aemond storms back to you, as you can barely back away to escape him. He is faster and steps on your dress, trapping you easily. You feel the walls closing in and are truly in danger now. The Prince grabs you by your waist, lifting you to your feet and drags you to the throne. You try to break free of his grip, protesting. ‘’Let go of me!” You turn your head to look at Alys. Surely she has a say in this. But she only smiles.

Aemond let out a low chuckle as he sits down the throne, your body still in his grasp. He places you on his lap, as some disobedient little girl. He whispers in your ear, and your cheeks burn with shame. ‘’You laughed. Now it is my turn to laugh, Little Wolfling.’’ You let out an offended cry, struggling to get away from him as fast as possible.

He chuckles. ‘’I am not sure what they teach you in the North, but here, we are respectful to our princes.’’ He says, lecturing you. His cold hands feel the back of your dress, feeling the warm skin that it covered.

Until that moment, you had never been touched before. Instead of doing what you feared he would do, he picked out a different punishment. He does lift your skirts, but barely enough to touch you. Just to reach your small clothes but mostly your behind. And at that moment you know what he is planning. And you don’t want that. You try to escape again, kicking and slapping him.

Aemond grabs your hands, grinning. ‘’Calm down, Little Wolfling. It’s just a spanking. I’m sure you had plenty before.’’ Never. 

Your parents did not believe that that was a healthy idea. ‘’No! Never!”’ You declare, angry. ‘’And you are not my father or my husband. You aren’t allowed to punish me.’’ You say, bravely.

He only scoffs, and his hand lands the first hard blow on your behind, causing you to cry out in pain. You squirm over his legs, fighting stronger and harder. He increases his grip, tightening it. ‘’Tis for the best you learn now, Little Wolfling. I don’t have time and the patience to do this every day.’’

The blows only increase, hurting your delicate skin. You did try to keep from crying and from complaining. You wouldn’t grand him that satisfaction. Not anymore.

It is true that you were disciplined in this way, yet your body betrayes you in the worst way imaginable. 

You do not notice your arousal until it is too late. Your nipples are hardened and there is a wetness between your legs, growing. 

You stop fighting. Perhaps in shock of your own betrayal, perhaps only to show the prince that he could stop what he was doing to you. Finally, he stops. But not before your behind is burning and a painful mess. 

He helps correct your dress and covers you apprioartly as if nothing has happened. You are still in shock, and don’t move away from him at first. ‘’I hope I made myself clear to you both. You both will play nice to one another.’’ He tells both you and his lover.

Alys bristles. ‘’I am not the one picking up rocks and killing people.’’ But this time, Aemond has enough of her complaints.

He did all he could. ‘’The Wolf has been disciplined. I am sure my Little Wolfling will behave much better in the future.’’ You are forced to sit on his lap, as a prize he had won.

‘’Won’t you, Little Wolfling?’’ He whispers. He does not kiss you, but his lips come closer to your cheeks, and unwillingly you feel your cheeks burn bright as stars. He chuckles, amused. ‘’You can go now, Little Wolfling.’’ You almost look offended when he sends you away.

This madness needs to stop. ‘’I,’’ You catched your breath. ‘’I don’t understand a few things.’’ You say. You want the truth. Now. Before you offend him again somehow.

Aemond rolls his good eye, smirking. ‘’You are a woman. I imagine that happens to you a lot.’’ Even Alys glares at that comment but his royal highness does not see it.

You only blink, ignoring him. ‘’You are alive.’’ You say, cutting straight to the case. ‘’You were killed in a battle.’’ You don’t remember who killed him or with what or where but you are certain Aemond Targaryen died.

Aemond’s head perks up, listening eagerly to what you tell him. You can tell he is not listening, but he is eager. ‘’What am I doing here? Am I here to save the dragons?’’ You ask. ‘’Or to stop the civil war?’’ Not that you would even know how in the seven hells to do that, but that's another thing entirely.

That causes the head of the prince to snap to Alys, worry written across his face for the first time that you met him. Alys only makes a gesture with her head, and Aemond seems to calm down. He smirks, carelessly. ‘’Oh, don’t worry about the Dragons.’’ You never heard any Targaryen say that.

The dragons are their wolves. Their dragons are their war winners. You laugh, offended and still hurt. ‘’But, without dragons, I am sorry to tell you, your entire family will become ash and dust.’’ You even chuckle.

Aemond stands back up from the throne, raising his sword and pointing it at you, lashing out. ‘’You are a bold little girl, are you not? Perhaps my hand was too gentle.’’

You don’t even back down anymore. ‘’It’s the truth. Where I’m from, house Targaryen is dust. All thanks to you, your sister and your brother. Together, you caused the civil war and killed the dragons-’’ That is pushing it too far. 

Aemond grabs you by your throat, choking you lightly to warm you of not accusing him of another thing. ‘’Silence.’’ He barks.

You obey, glaring. ‘’Good girl.’’ he smirks, mockingly. ‘’Now, I understand, you must be so excited to see a dragon, hmm? You can’t shut up about them.’’ He stops choking you, feeling your neck.‘’I suppose, there is truth in what you tell me. The dragons are long gone where you are from. But you are now here, with me.’’

‘’The story is written.’’ You say. 

Aemond snorts, and there is something dangerous about his body language. ‘’The story is just beginning.’’

You have a terrible feeling. ‘’You see,’’ Aemond grabs hold of your left hand. ‘’I have some inside knowledge. You know how this will end. You will tell me how the dragons died out, and I will simply be always one step ahead of my enemy. I will be their worst nightmare, their downfall and the dagger that slashes their throat.’’ He grins, as you become truly terrified and even tremble.

‘’How will you stop your sister?’’ You whisper. But you fear you already saw it in your dream. ‘’How will you stop Queen Rhaenyra’s marching troops?’’ Your voice is a soft weak whisper.

Aemond leans in, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead. ‘’I heard a prophecy. The song of ice and fire. That is where you come in. You can help me find something, something very precious.’’ He chuckles.

The sword.

He wants to find the sword.

But why.

Unless…

‘’No.’’ You instantly say. ‘’You can’t.’’ You turn your head to Alys, watching her blank expression. She is fine with this. You watch as Aemond smirks in silence, confirming to you that he is planning to do the impossible. ‘’Aemond, you can’t.’’ You repeat.

Aemond’s grip only tightens. ‘’Think about it, little Wolfling. An army that never rests, never eats, never betrays me. An army that will help me conquer Westeros; An army of White Walkers. It is perfect.’’ He is insane. 

‘’I won’t help you.’’ You remind him. ‘’You might as well send me back.’’ 

He ignores your protests. You can see his smirk and grin only grow, and you are reminded of Targaryens and their insanity. Their fire. Their blood. ‘’You will help me, little Wolfling. You will. Because if you do not, you will never see your family again. I have the means to send you back. And I will. After you have helped me.’’

You scoff, so you must help him do gods knows what so he can send you back to your own time?  ‘’It doesn’t sound like I have a choice, do I?’’ Alys shakes her head. ‘’What will I need to do?’’ You ask Aemond, your head hanging in shame. How many will die because of you?

He lifts your chin, grinning. ‘’Now, now, don’t be so sad. To begin things, we must find the sword. And I want more information on how to better keep the dragons too.’’

You cannot do that. ‘’Dragons died centuries before I was born!’’ You don’t know anything about dragons. ‘’I don’t even know what they eat.’’ You almost whine.

‘’Meat. They eat meat.’’ Aemond says. ‘’Vhagar is right here with me. I will teach you about dragons, you will teach me what you know of the Dance and how it ended.’’ This all sounds like a horrible idea to you. ‘’And when the time comes, we must complete the prophecy of Ice and Fire.’’ That sounds vague. 

But you want to see your family again. More than anything. So you hold out your hand, and wait for Aemond to shake it. He smiles, kissing it instead. He leans a little closer. ‘’I can’t wait until we are married. I always wanted a Valyrian wife, but you’ll do.’’ You laugh, thinking he is jesting. Until you see how Aemond is looking at you. Like you are some delicious cake he can’t wait to taste. He mirrors your smile, allowing you to be in denial as he makes his way to his lover, kissing her openly on her lips. You watch speechlessly as the two of them walk away, their chuckles and giggles mixing as they likely picture their new world together, with them for once atop of it, instead below. 

You throw your head into your neck and try to process it all. What in the seven hells did you even become part of?

a/n

Ooh, i wasnt sure i even wanted to share this one.

But here he is xDDDD

Ok bye

let me know what you think

[spacedace]

DP x DC prompt time:

So I've seen the idea of Danny & Jason being friends while Jason was dead & a ghost and reuniting after Jason was resurrected, and I had a thought:

Damian, after his death, ends up in the Ghost Zone and makes a friend in the form of fellow baby ghost Elle.

They go on a number of adventures together in the Zone, exploring, causing trouble, running around with Cujo and Wulf and generally becoming the best of friends.

When he is resurrected, Elle is devastated thinking her best friend moved on without telling her he was going.

Years later as teenagers they run into each other again on the human side (Elle recruited to join the Teen Titans? On the run from the GIW? Acting as emissary to the Ghost Zone on behalf of Danny? Got summoned? Just ran into each other while visiting the same zoo one day?) and are reunited.

The problem? Despite Elle knowing Damian, he doesn't remember his time as a ghost and doesn't trust this strange girl that knows way too much about him.

Bonus Super Serious Chaos flavor for the prompt: Jon is either jealous at first over how well Elle knows Damian or sees how hurt Elle is that Damian doesn't know/trust her and tries to make her feel better making Damian jealous of the other two getting closer (or a combination of both) all eventually leading all three to realize they all equally like each other.

[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LBGTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 3, Wave 1, Poll 11

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included. 

Check out the other polls in this wave and prior here.

Yoite-Nobari no Ou

Qualifications:

Heavily heavily coded relationship with another boy, canonically intersex and can be read as trans. (implied to be cafab) Suffers from flashbacks, emotional dysregulation, depersonalization due to abuse and neglect. Also terminally ill and progressively loses his sight/taste/hearing and has more trouble getting around and staying awake. Super autism coded, for that matter. To me. And many of the fans actually.

Propaganda:

A very sad boy, in a story about very sad boys fighting for self determination and learning the importance of community. He's a shinobi and can kill people by manipulating their lifeforce from the inside, but he also likes sweets and baseball and mathematics and he communicates like a shy, neglected cat. He's also named after someone's cat. Extremely good character written by an aroace and x-gender author

Anything Else?:

He is the bestest boy ever and should win this tournament by a landslide if the series were more well known

Melanie King-The Magnus Archives

Qualifications:

Bisexual and blind

Gay and blind and amazing

Melanie ends up being blinded by herself in the fourth season of the Magnus Archives, and ends up in a romantic relationship with another woman in the same season

She is blind and has a girlfriend. Canon disabled and canon wlw win 👍

she has a girlfriend and is blind

She is blind and sapphic (I'm not sure if anything exactly is ever confirmed in canon, but most people refer to her as a lesbian)

Propaganda:

she’s iconic

I love her

Oh I love my horrible woman who did many things wrong but in a way I sympathize with and also enjoy because she deserves to be a hater. Anyways so Melanie's very first appearance involved her arguing with Jon and and dismissing the way the Magnus Institute takes statements, which is a very good introduction for her in my opinion because she will continue to be a hater in regards to John. Melanie got stabbed by a ghost prior to her next appearance and briefly became a meme because turns out, when you get stabbed by a ghost, you'll want to tell people about the ghost, and she did this as she was being dragged away from where this happened. Her professional credit went downhill after this. She ends up being the catalyst of a big plot point in season 2 after this statement, because she's the only one who recognizes that Not-Sasha is, in fact, not Sasha. Then it turns out she cannot catch a break because she gets shot by a ghost later, and the ghost bullet turns out to not be a good thing later on. Melanie starts working for the Magnus Institute after Elias, her to-be horrible boss, proposes the role, since her credit has gone down so much that the job opportunity is very much needed. Then she realizes that she does not like her horrible murder boss and that she is bound to the institute, she keeps trying to kill him, which honestly I think she deserved to do because he sucks and she deserves a kill count. Though he shoves the knowledge that her father, who she thought died peacefully, actually died an agonizing, drawn out death in her brain so she stops doing that afterwards. She does help to get him arrested though, even if she really wanted to murder him. After this it is noted that she, at one point, fended off horrible flesh monsters with a knife single-handedly. John ends up realizing that the ghost bullet from earlier is still in her leg, and is more over making her far more murder hungry than she would be without it. So naturally the next step is DIY, non-consentual surgery, which she, after waking up shortly after the incident with her leg frozen and her friends committing medical malpractice, naturally objects to, which leads to her scarring John and overall not trusting him or Basira nearly as much as she might have before. Then she decides to actually prioritize her mental health a bit after going through every horror imaginable by going to therapy and insisting that, due to how the way tapes work in the archives, that none of her sessions be recorded, all while being just a bit paranoid about her therapist. Then it turned out that the only way to sever herself from the eye was to simply not have sight, and she's the one character who chooses this, getting rid of her eyesight very painfully and then moving in with Georgie, who ends up being her girlfriend. She's a little less hostile towards John after this, though she does not want to be in any archives business considering everything she went through there. Then, during the Eyepocalypse, she and her girlfriend, due to her not having sight and Georgie not having fear, are unaffected, and they sort of accidentally start a cult while trying to keep other people protected. Though it does not help that Melanie lied about having a vision that the whole thing would end, since the truth is really hopeless and bleak. She meets up with John and Martin again, is involved with the discussion of how the world can be maybe saved and is ultimately one of the three main characters to make it to the end of the finale, the others being Georgie and Basira. This is just me highlighting all of the wild things she's been up to and this would have gotten even longer if I had more propaganda.

She's so cool she tries to poison her evil boss she kicks ass she was a ghost hunter and she's also managed to escape her shitty situation by blinding herself to be able to quit her evil eldritch horror archiving job and just chill w/ her gf georgie and their cat (until the evil boss she tried to poison fucks everything up for everyone but in the end she and georgie still live and are presumably as fine as they cam be after all the shit that happened)

Only Melanie can accidentally become the Blind Prophet of the Apocalypse with her literally fearless girlfriend after trying to distance herself from the Beholding. She also had a ghost bullet infected with with The Slaughter in her leg which she got because she was a ghost hunting YouTuber/paranormal investigator.

Sometimes you gotta take your eyes out to escape your shitty job. And then you and your girlfriend live as prophets (and basically accidental cult-leaders) in the apocalypse

[lieutenantfloyd]

Ensemble Cast

pairing: Platonic! Task Force 141 (+ Alejandro & Rodolfo) x GN! Reader

words: 660

Summary: Hours into a stakeout, your boredom leads you to ask the everyone the classic hypothetical question, “If they were to make a movie about us, what actor would you want to play you?”

warnings: Lots of fluff and dialogue, found family trope, mentions of injuries, and an implication of angst.

a/n: MW2 is the ultimate found family story, change my mind.

Running your fingers along the edge of the map, your watch caught your eye. 5:14am, the bold digital numerals taunted. you pushed back from the table and made your way across the small room. You quickly scanned for an open spot to sit before finding one along the wall. Settling in with the group, you fought the urge to sigh. Stakeouts, while typically easy work, were never something you particularly enjoyed. A welcome break from the firefight you had been active in the past few weeks, yes, but nonetheless almost entirely boring.

You had been with them for what felt like forever and had long considered the group more like a band of brothers than a task force. Yet even the closest groups of people are bound to experience a lapse in conversation when stuck in a room together for hours on end. Unsurprisingly, a hush had fallen over most of the group more than a few hours ago. Like Ghost, you were more than comfortable with a bit of silence. But as the ninth hour of the stakeout came to a close, you couldn’t help but ignore your growing itch for conversation.

“If they were to make a movie about us, what actor would you want to play you?”

The question escaped you almost absentmindedly. The result of your brain slipping into semi-auto pilot. The words simultaneously cut Soap’s quiet one-sided ramblings short and introduced a bit of spirit and levity to everyone. You felt the room fall into a moment of quiet consideration, as the men began using the same war strategist intensity that was hard wired into their brains to figure out what Hollywood star they felt was most like themselves. Hypotheticals were a more than welcome break from going over the intel for the umpteenth time, or worse, being forced to listen to the vocalization of whatever popped into Soap’s mind.

With a groan, Captain price shifted his position in the stiff plastic chair he occupied. Trading his relaxed posture for sitting at attention in anticipation of everyone’s answer. A few moments passed before he spoke up. “Easy. Hugh Grant.” He started before taking a dramatic drag from his cigar. “A classic British gentleman after my own heart.”. Even through the darkness, you could see the playful glint in his eye. Price’s answer earned a range of amusement from the group and a full-bodied laugh from soap. “I’d want either James Mcavoy or… that guy from Game of Thrones.” Soap grinned. “Jon Snow!” Gaz snorted. “For me..” He started ”I know he’s not an actor, but I’ve been mistaken for Lewis Hamilton once or twice before, so probably him. What about you, Alejandro?” “I’d play myself. Why hire an actor when you can have the real thing?” Alejandro chimed in. “¿Y usted?” Alejandro said, elbowing Rodolfo. “No estoy seguro… ¿Maybe Mario Lopez?” “¡Vaya! Looks like Rudy’s feeling confident!” Alejandro chuckled, earning a smile and a slightly bashful look from Rudy. “What about you, LT?” Simon simply shrugged. Clearly not impressed by the current conversation. “Well. we could always dress up one of those twelve foot skeleton decorations and have you do the voiceover.” Soap snickered.

A moment passed before everyone, Simon included, burst into laughter.

Seeing everyone fall apart to such a dumb joke left you giggling right along with them, almost unable to contain yourself.

For years you found it strange how much joy you felt in moments like this—sitting in a dark and musty shack, laughing and cracking jokes alongside your rag tag group of soldiers. Yet you couldn't ignore how these moments brought up a near forgotten sensation; a syrupy sweetness in your chest. A feeling synonymous with those of love and what it meant to finally belong somewhere. The feeling of finally finding a family. Because what is a family, if not a cast of characters - often beaten, more than a little broken, and almost always bloody - who still choose to form glimmers of light in a world of dark?