#queen of the south au

[darkscrossfire]

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 Part one

Pairing: Obsessive!James Valdez x reader

Warnings: Pain, death, mentions of drugs, fire, possibly arson.

Notes: I couldn’t stand back and watch as zero James Valdez fics were made. I vow to try and complete this series 🫡 Also this is a very long chapter, be prepared.

 -> Next Part <-

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It infested my lungs. Burning me from the inside out and causing my vision to blur as if the devil himself had kissed my soul. My entire body was enveloped by the heat, my ears ringing. Debree beneath my skin was piercing, making my place sprawled across the floor painfully uncomfortable.

The bright light of the blazing flames filled the air, bright enough to make my eyes pinch in an attempt to try and adjust to the sight. The heat itself was enough to know that the entire warehouse had been enveloped in flames, but the sight of the inferno dancing in the night sky brought a shake across my entire body.

My attempt to stand was difficult, my knees weak beneath me. My hands ached, pressing against the floor, yet I found myself able to get upon two feet. My aching body curled in itself as I watched the embers continue to rise, not stopping once to spare any mercy. Warm tears spilt down my cheeks. What had I done?

My aunt Ana’s voice cried out to me, her arms wrapping around me as terrified sobs left her lips. Her hold was tight and painful, my limbs which already felt crushed becoming worse under her hold. A touch which was once of comfort how make me want to pull away out of fear of what she does not know.

The familiar sound of a car door shutting brought my attention away from the warehouse and towards the sight of James, stepping out his car. Horror covered his features, the flames reflected in his vision as it seemed to envelope his entire attention. His hand held loosely on the door, his lips parted. Guilt overwhelmed my entire being at the sight of his disbelief.

His eyes moved from the warehouse engulfed in flames to my petrified face. His eyebrows furrowed, a softness covering his face for a moment. Yet, beneath it all he senses something, and a knowing flashed across his face. As if he could read the guilt which burned within my soul. An unreadable expression crossed his face, and yet he stepped towards me, pulling me from my aunts grasp and tugging me into his arms. His hold was warm, the comforting kind.

His fingers tangled in the back of my hair, his breath tickling my ear. My tears stained his dark shirt, along with a few droplets of blood that came from the scratches I could feel all across my cheeks and forehead.

“It’s alright.” He whispered. “It’ll be okay.”

Yet I found myself unable to believe his words.

My feet were steady on the bottom of the railing, each foot slotted between the bars. It was enough to let me feel the breeze against my skin, slithering through my hair, without the complete danger of falling to my demise. Yet that danger still lingered. There was something so thrilling about having control of a danger in my life. My family’s business made any other danger impossible to control. The ever-looming threat of death was something I had grown used to, but not fond of.

I glanced down at the sight below me. Beneath the balcony sat the pool, the water deep enough to catch me if I were to fall but not enough to be completely safe. I would still likely crack my head open if I went in head first. It seemed like a fitting punishment.

“I hope you’re not planning on jumping.” His deep, familiar voice cut through the air. I had not heard James come onto the balcony, but he was quite good at that. Being quiet. “You shouldn’t be standing so high, you could fall.”

I didn’t glance back at him, emitting a soft chuckle. “You scared you’re gonna have to explain to my parents why I did a cannonball into the pool and cracked my head open?”

He returned the soft chuckle, his figure stepping closer towards mine, possibly to ensure a safe distance in case an accident did occur. “Something like that. Maybe I just don’t want to miss tomorrow night. I heard there’s gonna be tequila.”

I had almost forgotten about tomorrow. My twenty-first birthday celebration. My parents insisted that it was important to invite every single person we know, even if we despise half of them. James tried convincing them that it might be dangerous to invite that many people, especially since Epifanios men are out there.

I let out a soft chuckle. “Pote would never let you touch the tequila.”

His figure moved to lean against the railing, a soft shrug emitting from his shoulders as he stared out into the night sky. “Maybe not, but he doesn’t have to know.” He said with a soft smile.

There was a moment of silence as we both stared out into the sky, my hands gripping into the railing. Although his eyes were gazing upon the stars that filled the sky, I could sense that he wanted to say something, and eventually his gaze turned towards me, his eyes scanning my features for a moment.

“Somethings wrong.” He uttered, tilting his head lightly.

I looked over at him, cursing that he could read me like a book. He’s known me long enough to tell whenever my mood shifts, even if it’s just a little bit. I softly shrugged, “I’m fine.” There was a truth to that, physically I was fine, but my mind was filled with the memory of fire. A nightmare my brain could not erase.

His eyebrows softly furrowed, knowing that there was a lie entangled in my words. He tapped my elbow with his fingers, “Talk to me.” He murmured.

I didn’t meet his gaze, softly shrugging once more. I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat. My lips parting as if to speak. My words were caught in my throat. I wanted to tell him. Maybe he’d understand. Maybe he wouldn’t be mad.

“Is this about the fire?” He asked.

My chest tightened. Like a book.

I met his gaze, warm tears filling my eyes. His expression softened and he stepped closer to me, his hand placing on my forearm as he gazed up at my figure.

“It wasn’t your fault. You just happened to be there when Epifanios guys attacked.” He uttered, his eyes filled with intensity.

My lips parted, soft breaths escaping as I tried to speak, my head softly shaking. Just tell him. He’ll understand. Yet the memory of the way he’s handled past acts of sabotage caused a nauseous tug in my stomach.

I hesitated for a moment. “..James-“

My words were cut short by the sound of his cellphone ringing within his jean pocket. He turned his attention away from me, his eyebrows furrowing as he fished it out, taking a moment to read the name across the screen. My eyebrows furrowed in return, my chest aching. I decided to keep my words to myself.

“Shit.” He whispered, turning his back to me as he pressed the phone to his ear. He didn’t seem to focus on me any longer as he stepped away from the balcony, disappearing through the balcony door at the same time my mother appeared onto it, her eyes paying no attention to James.

I quickly blinked away the tears that had formed in my eyes, not wanting my mother to pry. She couldn’t afford to pry.

Her hands were pulling at the apron that was wrapped around her waist. She let out a small sigh, “There you are. Your uncle has just arrived, already so determined for dinner.” She spoke, a lightness to her voice, but her expression turned to a scowl as she realized where I was standing. “Get away from there! One day you’re going to give me a heart attack, you know that?”

I quickly stepped off the bottom of the railing, moving away from it to ease her panic. “Sorry.” I uttered.

She dismissed it with the wave of her hand, turning to step back through the balcony doors. I followed a few feet behind her, glancing back at the balcony for a moment before shutting the balcony door and retreating from my room.

Across the dinner table, I could sense a strange tension that my mother seemed unaware of. My uncle Jose’s eyes seemed to be burning holes into James’ soul, an anger lying beneath the surface. James didn’t reciprocate this expression, simply staring blankly back at him as my mother spoke into the air.

“Spencer thinks he may have found evidence that it was Epifanio that started the fire. Well make sure that Cabrón pays.” She said bitterly.

My heart began to softly pound in my chest, my focus entirely on my food as I tried to pretend that I didn’t feel guilt pouring out of my ears. The cutlery in my hands stilled, my stomach tightening. I had to move, to say something, something to make me not look so suspicious.

“What.. what did they find?” I asked.

“A lighter.” Uncle Jose spoke, his voice hard as his gaze was still entirely on James. “With the engraving of a bull on it.”

My heart felt like it stopped in my chest. My hands still couldn’t move and I still didn’t meet their eyes. My eyes pinned to the table. My heart began to pound faster in my chest. Although their gazes were upon each other, it felt as though their eyes were on me.

My lips softly parted in a moment of pause before I softly uttered. “How do you know it’s him?”

My mother scoffed, “All of Epifanios personal items are marked with that bull.”

The lighter belonged to Epifanio?

My eyes slowly trailed over to James, staring at the side of his face as realization dawned upon me and my stomach felt like it had dropped to my feet. His eyes met mine and we stayed like that for a moment, my expression unable to truly hide the horror that lay behind.

He didn’t say anything, simply uttering.

“Finish your food, it’s gonna get cold.”

I knew it was wrong, but curiosity got the best of me. I had to try it, even just once, to see what all the fuss is about.

I quietly snooped through James’ room, knowing that he kept his cigarette and lighter somewhere in his room. He was busy downstairs with other men, trying to uncover something important. I never knew the details, he never lets me know.

I shuffled through the top drawer of his desk, shuffling items around before my eyes widened at the sight of a gun inside. I quickly and quietly shut it, not wanting to mess with that. I had never held a gun and I didn’t plan to any time soon. I began looking through another drawer.

A small smile crawled on my face at the sight of the lighter and cigarette tucked in the second drawer. I quickly pulled a cigarette out of the box, taking the lighter before shutting the drawer and quickly sprinting out of James’ room.

His voice was echoing from the bottom of the stairs as he spoke to one of the men who he was working with. Listening out for a moment to make sure that his entire attention was on the man before him. It was.

I managed to sneak back to my own room, shutting the door and letting out a soft relieved sigh that I had managed to do all of that without being seen.

I slipped out onto my balcony, placing the cigarette between my fingers as I attempted to open the lighter with one hand. I had never done this before and was simply mimicking what I had seen others do, what I had seen James do.

I placed the cigarette in my mouth, going to flick the metal lighter open but pausing at the intricate design that had been engraved on the front.

A bull with large horns and roses surrounding it in a beautiful pattern. I traced my thumb across the detailing, wondering where James got this lighter from. Probably from one of his travels across the country.

As I began trying to light the cigarette, the sparks flickering in the night air. James’ voice rang through the air, his figure pushing my curtain to the side as he stepped out onto my balcony.

“What’re you doing out here? It’s late.”

I plucked the cigarette out from between my lips and placed the lighter and the cigarette behind my back as I quickly faced him, letting the cigarette fall from my fingertips and off the balcony. I couldn’t let the lighter drop, it would be far too noisy and far too obvious, so I kept it behind my back with it tightly held in my hand.

“I was just looking at the sky.” I quickly spoke. How did he know I was out here?

He softly smiled, lightly shaking his head and he folded his arms. “You need sleep.” He motioned with his hand. “Inside, c’mon.” He turned away from me, expecting me to follow him, to which I did with the lighter still held behind my back.

I turned my attention back to my plate, slowly shoveling another forkful of rice into my mouth with a shaky hand as I tried to make sense of my realization.

It wasn’t possible. James loathed Epifanio.

Yet something in Uncle Jose’s gaze told me that my suspicion might be correct. The way he spoke of the bull in an almost accusing tone. He was right about who the lighter belonged to, but not about who he suspected started the fire. My mother still seemed all too unaware of the way he tore into James with his eyes.

After dinner I found myself ushered into my room by James all too early with the excuse of needing to get a good amount of sleep for tomorrow night. I didn’t want to go to sleep, my mind was all too plagued with the confusion of why James had the lighter. My mind wouldn’t accept the possibility of James being under Epifanios order.

I tried tucking myself into bed and putting myself to sleep, but something inside of me refused to fall to slumber. My hands clenched the blanket around my body in annoyance. My brain kept jumping back and forth over the topic of the lighter, refusing to accept what was an obvious truth.

I tried to press the thought away, telling myself it was ridiculous and that James would never betray my mother like that.

The sound of arguing stemming from James’ room made my eyes snap open, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion as I slowly sat up. I could hear that it was James and my uncle, but their words came out as a muffled mixture of noise. I knew it was wrong to invade like this, but I couldn’t help it, especially not after my realization at the dinner table.

My curiosity influenced my movement and I was unable to stop myself from slipping out my bed and quietly stepping out of my room. My feet made quiet steps towards James’ room as the sound became louder and the words being uttered between the two became increasingly audible.

“You think they’ll fuckin’ believe you?” James spat.

“You over her own brother? What a fucking laugh.” Uncle Jose spat in return.

“I have done more for this family than you have. While you were away dealing cocaine in Malta, I was here protecting them. I stopped that shootout in Dallas.” James voice hissed through the air.

I slowly stepped forward. The cold tiles beneath my feet were enough to stop me from being heard as I was able to lightly step on it. My footsteps could be very quiet when I needed and this moment was dire.

I stepped closer to the door, my gaze quietly peeking through the gap in the door, it providing the only stream of light into the hallway. I tried to quiet my breathing, watching the two argue within James’ room. James was stood by his desk, his arms folded as his usual stance. Uncle Jose was stood a few feet away from him, his finger accusingly in the air.

“The only reason i’m not taking your ass down right now is because of her. I don’t want to ruin tomorrow night. Not when we’ve been planning this for months. I won’t let you ruin anything else for my princesa.” Uncle Jose lectured.

James returned the angered glare. “Everything i’m doing is for her.”

Were they talking about me?

I couldn’t pull my eyes away, watching the two argue. I had never seen them like this before. Just a week ago they were laughing together with beers in their hands at my mothers get together. Yet now, they seemed to despise one another.

“You’re going to ruin her life. The moment they connect that lighter back to her, there’s nothing you can do to save her. No one’s going to spare her, not even me.”

My heart dropped. My own uncle just admitted to not caring if I was murdered. I wanted to step away, to get far away from here, but I couldn’t move. My body was stuck, my blood struck cold in my veins. Warm tears were pooling in my eyes, obscuring my vision.

“But it doesn’t have to be that way. I can pin all of it right back onto you. One call is all I need to get evidence of you working for Epifanio from an inside detail from one of his men. Unfortunately for you, Epifanio keeps records.” Uncle Jose spoke.

A part of me felt relieved, as if I was glad he did not want to bring harm to me but it was quickly replaced by the realization that he’d use James as a sacrifice to spare me from the murderous clutches of the cartel world. Neither were what I wanted. I felt guilt for putting James in this position. A part of me wanted to burst into James’ room and beg Uncle Jose to give me up, just please don’t hurt James.

“You won’t do that.” James spoke calmly.

Uncle Jose scoffed, “Oh yeah, and what makes you so sure?”

I watched through blurry eyes as James turned away from Uncle Jose, his figure stood in a way that blocked me from seeing what it was he was doing. Yet my answer came quickly as James turned around and the sight of a gun with a silencer attached to the end held tight in his grasp became clear.

Before Uncle Jose could speak another word, James lifted his arm faster than I could blink and the sound of a gun shot rang through the air, the silencer on the gun deafening the gunshot enough to stop it from echoing through the entire house.

I was unable to stop the quiet gasp that fell from my lips as blood splattered across the opposing wall, covering it like nauseating artwork. Uncle Jose’s figure fell to the floor with a sickening thud, his empty eyes staring at the ceiling with an everlasting expression of fear, a dark red stream running down his forehead. An terrifying silence filled the air.

James’ figure quickly stepped over his body, crouching down to snake his fingers into Uncle Jose’s pocket, slithering around before pulling out his cellphone and stuffing it into his own pocket.

I pressed a shaky hand to my mouth, unable to stop the warm tears that spilt down my cheeks, clearing my vision and allowing me to see the sight before me, the sight of my uncles corpse just laid across the floor as crimson began spreading around him.

James was staring right at me through the small crack of the door. His figure now stood and holding the gun in his hand as tightly and with as much determination as he had before. The expression across his face brought a chill down my spine.

My face fell and I quickly stepped away from the door, sprinting as quietly as I could down the hallway and towards my own bedroom. My heart was pounding in my chest, my breathing heavy as I slipped inside of my room and quickly crawled into my bed.

I pulled the covers up, trying to place myself as if I had been sleeping all along, but my body was far too rigid of a person who was actually asleep. I tried to calm myself down but it was futile, my body in a complete state of panic.

My heart was the only sound I could hear. My skin felt both ice cold and burning hot at the same time, as if unable to process how to react. My brain seemed to be following the same motions, my brain entirely blank yet filled with thousands of thoughts at the same time.

My door quietly and slowly opened. The dim light from outside flooding the room and providing a barely visible silhouette of James. I could feel the way he was watching me, the intensity. My heart was pounding in my chest, waiting for him to step into the room and place the silencer to my temple, sending me to the same fate that he did Uncle Jose.

I expected him to step into the room and shut the door behind him, leaving me to anticipate where his figure was in the lonely dark before he executed me.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he just stood there for what felt like an eternity as my heart thrummed in my ears. There was a long moment of silence before he eventually took in a long breath and stepped away, quietly shut the door behind him, filling the room with darkness once more.

My eyes shot open, a shaken breath falling from my lips. My entire body felt frozen, unable to move. All I could do was stare at the opposing wall with the memory of what I had just seen playing in my head like a horror movie stuck on replay. This one was more terrifying than any other horror movie I had ever seen.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Go to sleep. It’s just a nightmare.

Go to sleep.

Just fucking go to sleep.

I couldn’t.

For the entire night, I lay awake with my eyes pressed shut in an attempt to wipe away the sight of Uncle Jose’s lifeless figure. Whispers of sleep kissed my being but I never managed to fall into it entirely, always jolting awake the moment I was on that edge.

I found myself fearing the morning, not wanting to see what lay before me when I would eventually be forced to leave the confines of my room. I worried that my mother would be next to have a bullet in her skull at the hands of James and that I would find her lifeless in her own bed. Perhaps I would be next.

The man I had trusted the most had suddenly become someone I deathly feared. My source of protection had now become my danger and there was nothing I could do but watch.

Tag List

@i-dont-know78

@drownedpoetess

@thedncingclown

@bluewingedangel

@aominewryne

@rcmupout

@thewayilovedjay

[ravenempress101]

He needs his own villian series so bad I’m sorry I want more dedicated men obsessed 👨‍💼

They are definitely psychotic men but dang the passion😍

[metalljellyphish]

Sketched a quick concept for Eric/Irene for the vampire AU cause Marjorine need a friend to talk J Fashion with and Bad Irene gyaru enthusiast gives me life.

Now is he a hunter moonlighting as a drag performer, or a drag queen who does some monster hunting on the side 😉

[south-park-dimensions]

(Some doodles before bed heh)

[shhh-secret-time]

No, see, because, like, you fucked up. Now you have to write that. I need that. I need the Star Park AU.

Below I will present my case:

1) That name is so freaking cute and I love it

2) Your tags made me fall in love with it

3) I know you have more ideas in that beautiful brain of yours

4) I really want it.

Please see points 1 - 4 if you have any questions.

Aafjdjakak Dude?! I'm cackling!

Fuck it we ball. Please look forward to it I guess.

I'll throw more in the tags!

[welcome-to-hyrulepark]

[SKETCHING STORIES №5: LITTLE RED BOOK]

When I watched how YouTubers like Beq Art or well_D_raw drew anime characters with liners in their mini sketchbooks, I wanted the same set for myself, but to make small sketches for Hyrule Park.

I want to share some of them with you, but not all of them because they could potentially contain major spoilers.

Here I tried to redesign Jimmy's exoskeleton that he will wear in seasons two and three.

Clyde tests the mechanical suit that Robbie was creating for Link.

Astor's lifetime: from insatiable brat (when Zelda was born), to mediocre sorcerer (when Zelda's mother died), to prophet of doom (AOC events), to vengeful spirit (season 2 events, but I’m no longer sure whether Astor can fit into them).

Just a stupid idea for a storyline with koroks. Jimmy will ignore Hetsu's request to collect 900 koroks, since he knows full well that they do not have time for this. However, Butters feels bad for Hetsu and decides to secretly collect these little creatures. Open Alt to read the dialogue.

And here, I tried to draw in the format of already mentioned Beq Art and well_D_raw. Here's what I have:

Sketch of Zelda's mother

In my AU, Link will wear the Yiga uniform, just like in TotK. But I won't say in which season this will happen🤫

And finally, I present to you Maraku - the mother of Impa and Purah. Her name is a derivative of passion fruit, which in my language is called "marakuyya"

From now until the end, I will only be drawing concepts for Hyrule Park in this little book, while my old unfinished sketchbook is now free for other kinds of drawings.

[hext00ns]

My new SP au! Kenny grows up and becomes a drag queen with the help of Karen!! Using the drag name “Princess” and Karen uses the alias “KareBear”

[jerepars]

Teresa wondered if, despite being without a home for so long, it was possible to be homesick. She wondered if it made sense to be homesick for a person.

Previous chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

[spookymultimedia]

Drag icons

[peppermintgrim]

*blows a kiss to my computer* this one's for you, Aldith Sereda Wilhelmine Aeducan, kinslayer & kingmaker

[darkscrossfire]

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 Part two

Pairing: Obsessive!James Valdez x reader

Warnings: Death, possibly graphic mentions of death, betrayal, hints to blackmail.

Notes: I have so much determination to complete this fic. The support so far has been awesome. I’ve finally finished exams so i’m going to try my best to update as often as I can! :D

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“We’re gathered here to honor the life that was Fernando Hernandez, a son, a father and a grandfather to those who loved him dearly. On this day of mourning, we recognize all that he has accomplished in the life that was taken away from him as not by order of God.”

Everyone around me seemed to be weeping as we all sat in the pews of the church, the pastor stood at the front with a bible in his grasp. Usually I would be sitting with tears streaming down my face, yet my skin remained dry. I couldn’t muster a single teardrop even though my body felt like it was soiling from deep within me.

James’ figure was sat next to mine, his knee occasionally brushing against mine. I had no energy to move, my eyes planted on the back of one of my distant cousins heads. I paid no attention to the pastor, my head empty as I found myself in a statuesque state. My lack of tears was likely strange, but everyone else was too focused on their own pain to notice.

I could feel James’ gaze turn to the side of my face. His expression was stoic, his job to ensure that no cartel related activities took place at the funeral. I knew that nothing would happen, but uttering that thought would make me incredibly suspicious, so instead I decided to keep quiet. My silence ensured that James stayed by my side, a supporting presence I desperately needed.

My hands were limply folded in my lap. If I could move, I would have been picking at the skin around my fingers. That action alone would have alerted James that something else was going on, that there was a secondary worry plaguing my brain. The pastors words fell as incoherent mumbles to my ears.

James eyes scanned my face for a moment, his eyebrows softly furrowing in a sympathetic action. It was not often that he showed such a soft emotion in public, not wanting to appear weak in front of anyone. Enemies were everywhere, eyes planted in the places you least expect.

My cold hand was suddenly enveloped in warmth. This sensation broke my frozen state and allowed me to glance down at the source, James’ hand interlacing with mine.

I stared down at our hands for a moment, his larger one keeping a comforting hold on mine. His gaze followed mine down to our hands. The sight sent a strange tingle through my chest, the first spark of positivity I had felt since the fire. James was good at bringing fear into those he aimed for, but he was also good at conjuring calm and peace. Every panic attack that he has soothed over the years confirmed that.

I met his gaze, his expression not changing and remaining almost blank. His eyebrows lightly furrowed, the movement so barely noticeable that if I hadn’t been face to face with him like this, it would have been overlooked. He gently squeezed my hand, and I couldn’t help but squeeze it back in return.

He slowly leaned forward, my figure stilling as his breath tickled my ear. He whispered. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

He slowly pulled away, my gaze still intently on his. On the surface, his words meant that everything would be alright and that I would heal from my grandfathers passing, yet something was evident beneath. The intensity in his gaze spoke other words. Almost as if he knew.

He couldn’t have. No one knew. If they did, I would be dead right now. If James knew then others would have known, there was a slim chance that only James knew. Information like that doesn’t stay in one person, it gets around quickly, faster than you can process.

He pulled his gaze away from me, staring forward again towards the funeral officiant, his gaze now hard once more and the softness that he given me faded away. His hand did not leave mine, still keeping a hold and every now and then delivering a soft squeeze. The feel of thumb drawing soft circles against the back of my hand brought my heart to a steady beat.

I glanced to my side, feeling eyes on me and immediately caught gazes with my mother who seemed to already be staring at me, her figure sat in the pew next to mine with my aunt at her side. My aunt Ana’s posture was hunched as she softly sobbed into her hand, her eyes pressed shut. My heart felt like it was tearing apart at the sight.

I directed my attention back to my mother. Her expression was soft, a light smile covering her features as if trying to comfort me. Yet the tears adorning her eyes and the sadness threatening to burst through at any moment told me that she herself was trying not to break.

I returned the soft smile and for the first time, warm tears spilt down my cheeks. They were not tears of loss but rather tears of guilt. My mother was staring right at the person responsible for this tragedy and she had no idea. A part of me contemplated whether I should just admit what I had done, allow my mother to receive the justice she desperately wanted.

My mother softly patted the spot next to her invitingly. My eyebrows softly furrowed and I glanced down at James and I’s hands as I was left with a choice. James’ eyes met mine once more and he gave a soft almost smile.

“Go sit with your mother.” He whispered, giving my hand one last comforting squeeze.

I hesitantly pulled my hand from his grasp, quietly moving from our pew and over onto the one my mother and aunt were at at. I slid in next to my mother, her arm immediately wrapping around my shoulder and allowing me to fit snugly next to her.

My hand still felt the warmth of James’. I found myself longing for it, as if the action of his holding mine was the most comfort I had received since all the tragedy happened. Even in the embrace of my mother, I felt cold. My entire body felt rigid once more and I felt myself in a constant state of inner discomfort for what I had done.

I looked back over at James but found that his attention was no longer on me. I found myself disappointed, wishing that I could have found that familiar comfort in his gaze once more. I forced myself to look back over at the funeral officiate, his words finally no longer falling into incoherent mumbles.

“Before we end in prayer, Miguel Hernandez, loving brother of Fernando, would like to say a few words of appreciation.” The funeral officiate spoke, moving away from the podium to let Miguel take his place.

Once the service was over, we all headed out towards where the coffin would be lowered. It felt surreal, watching the coffin be moved towards it, knowing that my grandfather was inside. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the sight at I watched it being lowered into the ground, the last time I would ever see it.

My mother figure was still at my side, soft sobs falling from her lips as she tried to remain composed but desperately failed. I don’t know why she would want to remain composed at the funeral of her father, she’s allowed to mourn. It’s probably something to do with the cartel and needing to appear almost untouchable at every moment.

My eyes caught James. He was adorned in a neat black tie suit, his hair styled upon his head. He wore a stoic expression, definitely following that cartel expectation. From the outside he was a very intimidating person, someone you’d expect to be able to kill you in an instant, and he definitely could.

I was glad to know more than what lay beyond the surface. I knew the softness that was inside that he chose to only show a select few people. I’m lucky enough to be one of those people. I didn’t understand why he decided to let me in, to see the him beyond the mercenary exterior, but I didn’t question it.

His eyes met mine and that softness covered his exterior, yet it felt more noticeable as he did not care if the other saw his moment of vulnerability.

“You feel guilty, don’t you?” He suddenly spoke out into the air.

My eyebrows furrowed as a sense of panic washed over me. What was he doing?

I quickly glanced around at the rest of my family members, to my mother at my side, but they all seemed entirely focused on the casket as if James’ voice had not sliced through the silence. His accusation made my heart start to thump in my chest.

“Everywhere you go… people die.” He spoken once more. “You wonder if you should just join your grandfather, save your family the risk of anymore destruction.”

My eyes widened and I felt myself in a state of shock. My lips parted for a moment before I was able to utter a meek, “James..” My voice hesitant and desperate as I took a small almost defensive step towards him.

“Luckily I have a soft spot for you, and I can make all of this go away.” He uttered, taking a slow step towards me.

I took another cautious step towards him, as if trying to barrier him from everyone. “James, what are you doing?” I quickly uttered out, glancing behind me at my family members but finding them still hyper focused on the casket in the ground, their minds appearing absent.

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, glancing back at James as I searched for answers in his deep brown eyes. He just held my gaze, taking another step towards me so that he was now right before me.

“I can save you from this.. from them. I can stop them from ripping you apart the moment they’ve found out what you’ve done.” He spoke in a low voice.

“I.. I didn’t do anything.” I whispered, warm tears filling my eyes which were a sign of my guilt.

“Don’t play dumb.” He warned. “You’re not built for this world and I won’t let them take you out of it. They say they love you but what they’ll do to you the moment they connect that lighter back to you will be a moment that’s filled with anything but love.”

I found myself unsure of what to say for a moment, not quite knowing what he was saying or what his intentions were. My eyebrows softly furrowed as whispered. “I don’t understand.”

A soft, almost taunting chuckle left him as he reached behind his back, his movements slow as if he knew that it was killing me in anticipation. The worst kind of anticipation. His attention shifted from me to the figure behind me, my mother, who’s attention was still entirely focused on the casket. Her body seemed stiff, and so did the rest of my family members.

“Maria.” He called out to her. Her attention finally turned towards us, a soft gloomy smile on her face.

Before she could speak, the deafening sound of a gunshot rang through the air and her figure fell to the floor with a thud. No one moved, no one reacted, except for me. 

A gasp of horror left my lips, my limbs now frozen in fear at the sight of my mothers lifeless body and the dark crimson wound in the middle of her forehead. Her eyes stared up at the sky, empty and now devoid of any emotion. Blood slowly trickled from the wound and down the side of her face.

I stared back at James in horror, unable to utter anything as my entire face read the expression of trying to figure out why he would do this.

“You shouldn’t have taken what wasn’t yours.” He uttered.

I shook my head in desperation as another sob left my lips. I wanted him to stop talking.

“You shouldn’t have disobeyed your grandfather… now look what you’ve done.”

His eyes moved to stare behind me and I slowly let my gaze follow his. The moment my eyes landed on what his were focused on, another sob filled gasp left my throat and my figure threatened to fall to the floor as my entire body became filled with an aching weakness.

My entire family lay slaughtered before me. Their bodies scattered across the grass, crimson soaking the dirt around them. They had received the same fate my mother had, shown no mercy by the sniper. Their soulless eyes stared at the grey, cloud filled sky.

This isn’t real.

This isn’t real.

Please don’t let it be real.

I woke with a burning gasp, my throat dry and my skin covered in a chilling cold sweat. My body ached as if it had been tensing for hours. My hands gripped the sheets as I tried to come clear of my surroundings, my eyes adjusting to the darkness that filled my room.

The one hour of sleep I had managed to get was filled with the mixture of a memory and a nightmare, the real aspect of it all distorted by the fear that had filled my brain. My grandfathers funeral had been far less eventful.

My heart was pounding in my chest, it thrumming in my ears as I glanced around my room expecting to see something responsible for the panic that filled my brain. My room was completely empty, the only sound being my own rapid breathing and the crickets softly chirping outside.

I slowly let my breathing come to a calm as I became aware that it was all a dream. I yearned for the memory of last night to be a dream, but I knew it wasn’t. My heart began to slowly pound in my chest once more as a sense of panic washed over me.

Mom.

Before I could think anything else, I was throwing the covers off my legs and quickly swinging off the bed and stepping onto the floor. My feet quietly thumped against the floor as I pressed my door open, my figure heading straight for my mothers room with a fear filled determination.

My brain was immediately assuming the worst, expecting to see the last remnants of my mother the moment I opened her bedroom door. My chest ached, warm tears filling my eyes and creating a blur in my vision. I could not help but feel that my dream was some sort of warning.

The sight of her open bedroom door made my steps come to a slow, taking in a soft breath as I prepared myself for the potential sight that lay before me. My hand reached out and pushed her bedroom door further open, my head reluctantly peaking inside to look upon-

An empty room with a neatly made bed.

I furrowed my brows in confusion as a momentary sense of relief washed over me. My brain refused to believe that she hadn’t been hurt in the process of James’ ridding of my uncle Jose. My feet hurried towards the stairs, grasping onto the railing as I hurried downstairs.

“Mom?” I called out, my voice struggling to come out as my throat felt like it was constricting.

The sound of quiet conversation emanating from the kitchen made my footsteps come to a slow, my eyebrows furrowing deeper as I neared the kitchen. I first spotted my aunt Ana’s figure leaned against the kitchen counter, her eyes lighting as she spotted me.

She let out a loud noise that was hard to understand what the source was, her figure hurrying to mine as her arms completely enveloped my body, pulling me into a bone crushing hug. My mind immediately assumed that she knew what happened to Uncle Jose, interpreting the sound she made as one of distress.

“I can’t believe it.” She uttered as she gave me a gentle squeeze.

I couldn’t help the warm tears that filled my eyes at her words. Did they know? Why were they so calm? I couldn’t understand what was happening and glanced over Aunt Ana’s shoulder at my mother who was staring at me with a smile reflecting that of pride?

Her figure was sat at the dining table, a magazine open in her hand before she slowly set it down, moving to stand from the table. My heart began to slowly pound in my chest again, my hands barely returning the right hug that my aunt was delivering. I stared at my mother with a blurry vision.

“Is everything okay?” I barely whispered.

My aunt let out another noise which I could now tell was not one of distress but one of excitement. She mumbled against my shoulder as she spoke, a sense of heartbreak to her voice. “My babygirl’s all grown up now.”

A strange sense of relief washed over me. They didn’t know. A part of me wanted to keep it that way, to keep the peace for my own sanity. My hands softly clenched the material of her shirt as I gentle nuzzled into her shoulder, finding a sense of comfort. I blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. I couldn’t decide what to do.

Aunt Ana pulled away, her face changing into one of concern as she noticed the light state of distress evident across my face. She titled her head in an quizzical manner. “What’s wrong?” She softly asked, her eyebrows lightly furrowing.

I glanced behind her, trying to find some semblance of proof that Uncle Jose was still alive. If he were, he would be down here with us right now. My chest tightened and I whispered. “Where’s Uncle Jose?”

Her expression deepened as sorrow covered her features, her hand lightly rubbing my arm in a soothing manner.

“Oh, i’m sorry. Uncle Jose couldn’t stay. Business in Seattle pulled him away early this morning. I tried my best to get him to stay but he turned his phone off the moment I did. He promised we would be here for you today.” Aunt Ana softly frowned.

He’s not in Seattle, he’s dead.

I couldn’t utter those words, I couldn’t tell her. How was I supposed to tell them that I had witnessed James murder Uncle Jose after he admitted to not caring to spare me once evidence of the fire was connected to me. My eyes struggled to meet Aunt Ana’s, unable to look her in the eyes knowing the horrifying truth.

A sense of confusion washed over me as I recalled her words, my eyebrows lightly furrowing as I uttered. “Be here for me?..”

She let out a soft chuckle, titling her head once more in amusement as she lightly squeezed my bicep in a teasing manner. “Just turned twenty-one and the dementia is already kicking in. You’re not that old, honey.”

My birthday. It’s my birthday.

I swallowed the burning lump in my throat, softly nodding as I tried to pretend that I hadn’t forgotten my own birthday due to the haunting memory of last night. “Right, my party. Sorry.”

My aunt dismissed my forgetfulness with a soft wave of the hand, turning to keep one arm wrapped around my shoulder as she faced my mother, a prideful smile across her face. “There’s pancakes on the counter, the ones you like. Your mom made them.”

My mother gave a soft smile, moving from her place at the table to replace my aunt at my side, placing a kiss to the top of my head. “Happy Birthday, mija.”

I met her gaze but failed to return the smile, only able to utter a meek whisper. “Thank you.”

My mother had never been the overly affectionate type. The only time she had truly shown any affection towards me in front of other was at my grandfathers funeral. When she pulled me to her side, it was a comfort I had not felt very often. Arguably, I had received more comforting affection from James in moments where she should have been the one comforting me.

I guessed that she just wasn’t very sure of how to comfort her own daughter. My grandfather wasn’t a very affectionate person, and as his own daughter it didn’t seem like she received the affection she should have.

She gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze before leaving the kitchen, leaving me to wander towards where the pancakes were. I wasn’t sure if I could stomach anything, but I still piled three onto a plate and moved towards the dining table.

My gaze seemed to be stuck at the world outside as I glanced through the large windows. I wanted to think of something, to place logic into what I had seen last night. My brain was yearning for it to have just been some kind of late night hallucination, but I knew it wasn’t. One side of me was angry at James for murdering my uncle, but the other side viewed him as a kind of savior.

He killed my uncle before the possibility of either one of us getting the blame for the fire could happen. Was it to save his own skin, or me?

My body stilled the moment the sound of familiar footsteps filled the air, sourcing from near his bedroom before heading down the stairs and towards the dining area. My entire body seemed to grow stiff before I began to shovel slices of the pancakes into my mouth as a way of busying myself so that I didn’t have to face him.

I could hear him enter the kitchen just opposite the dining area. Normally, he would have greeted me the moment he saw me, but today he was still. His eerie quietness did not help the thrumming of my heart inside my chest.

He flicked the coffe machine on, it beginning to softly rumble as the water heated up. There was the sound of his feet moving as he grabbed a mug from the cabinet, placing it on the counter before placing coffee inside. I found myself hyper aware of his every moment, yet keeping my eyes focused on my plate and the way my hand shook as I brought another forkful to my mouth.

After stirring his coffee, he let the teaspoon clatter in the sink before moving towards the dining table. My entire body went rigid, my head almost ducking down as if to try and cower out of sight. The air was thick, we both knew and yet we both did not dare to speak.

The chair across from me screeched as he pulled it out, placing his mug down before taking a seat. I hesitated for meeting his gaze. The moment our gazes connected, my stomach flipped. His demeanor was calm and collected, as if nothing was wrong. He offered a soft smile, one I tried to return but failed to.

I barely managed to stomach the breakfast my mother had made, not wanting to offend her by not eating it. I tried my best to remain calm and composed, but James’ gaze which seemed to burn holes into my being made my stomach churn. Every time I shoveled a fork full into my mouth, I found myself waiting for him to say something as he waited for me to say something.

I couldn’t say anything, no matter how much I wanted to. Every time the thought of speaking out about what I had seen last night crossed my thoughts, my body seemed to stiffen in a grave state of discomfort. My body would momentarily still before I would quickly try and regain my movement, wanting to avoid looking suspicious.

“You look tired.” James uttered to the air. “Did you not sleep well last night?” His head was tilted in an almost interrogating manner, he knew why and yet he wanted to hear me say it.

My body involuntarily stilled once more. I glanced over at him for a moment, my chest tightening. I softly shrugged, staring down at my plate as I softly spoke. “I’m fine.”

He let out a soft hum, moving his attention to the window outside. He brought his mug to his mouth, taking a soft sip before placing it down again, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. I couldn’t help but stare at him. The dream I had last night had intensified the feeling that was already stirring within my stomach.

“There’s going to be a lot of people tonight.” He uttered.

I didn’t speak for a moment, just giving a soft nod.

“A lot of people who care for you.” He met my gaze, his fingers lightly trailing over the handle of the mug before him. “You excited?”

I hesitated for a moment, possibly too long of a moment to go unnoticed before softly nodding once more. My voice felt stuck in my throat. I couldn’t bare to sit before him like this, to pretend that everything was normal. It wasn’t, at any moment the world was going to crumble.

“I’m gonna.. go get dressed.” I uttered, grabbing my plate to quickly stand, pushing my chair in before moving to place my plate in the sink. Somehow, I had managed to finish the pancakes, filling every moment of silence with the sound of chewing.

I exited the kitchen in a possibly suspicious speed, not caring if he stared as I left. I just needed distance. I needed time to figure this out. It was still quite a few hours until I needed to get ready for the party. Guilt burned in my stomach with every moment that I kept what I saw to myself.

I managed to hide away in my room without any interruptions or possible suspicion until it was time for me to get ready. My mother and I had gone shopping for the dress I was going to wear a few days prior. I had been so excited to wear it, but tonight it just felt wrong. It felt wrong knowing i’d go out to my birthday venue, face all my family and friends and not say anything.

I slipped on the dress, pairing it with a pair of small heels to ensure that my feet wouldn’t get too sore throughout the night. I planned to spend the night dancing away all of my problems with as much alcohol in my system as I could take without getting absolutely sick.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror of my dressing table. James had been right, I did look tired. My mother and aunt were apparently too excited about tonight to notice. His hyper focus on me was the reason he noticed, assessing me for any sign that I might give him up and tell the truth about what happened.

I gently applied the rest of my mascara, completing the look. I managed to hide the circles under my eyes and the dullness to my gaze with an eye look that complimented my features. I softly set the mascara down on the dresser and took in a soft breath as if to prepare myself.

Before I could stand, a soft knock was at my bedroom door. My eyebrows softly furrowed before I uttered, “Yes?”

The door opened with a quiet creek and my entire body seemed to grow stiff once more as James stepped inside of my room, not speaking a word as he closed the door behind him, leaving us alone in the confines of my room. My heart seemed to slowly begin to pound in my chest.

“Yes?” I whispered out, asking what it was that brought him here, watching him through the reflection of the mirror.

He held my gaze for a moment before taking a slow step forwards.

“Your mother would like to leave soon, just so that we can do last minute preparations at the venue.”

I nodded and softly spoke. “Okay.”

I expected him to leave after those words but he didn’t. Instead he just stood there for a moment, holding my gaze as it appeared he had a lasting thought on his mind. He took another slow step forward.

“I know i’m supposed to give you your gift at the party, but I just wanted to give you something before.” He stated.

I didn’t say anything, just simply watching him as I waited for him to continue. My mind was curious to what it was that he wanted to give me.

I watched as he slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket. My mind immediately began assuming the worst, that the gift he was going to give me was a bullet to the head on the night of my birthday. I watched with cautious eyes at his hand and almost let out a sigh of relief at the sight of a small black box in his fingertips.

“I had this made for you.” He softly spoke.

My eyebrows lightly furrowed at his words, as if surprised that he would do something so kind. I had always seen him as kind, even as I saw him do horrific things to those who apposed my mother.

He pulled the lid off of the black box and set it down on the dresser before me. He pulled a glistening gold necklace out of the box, the chain delicate. I watched through the reflection as he stepped towards me, bringing his arm around to join the necklace around my neck.

The chain was cold against my burning skin, all too aware of his presence behind me, the way his fingers brushed against my skin as he clasped it closed. His hands didn’t retreat, instead moving to rest on my shoulders, his palms resting against my skin as he gave it a gentle squeeze. His eyes met mine in the reflection of the mirror.

“Happy Birthday, Y/n.” He softly uttered.

He had to have seen the terror that lay underneath my expression. The way my eyes were a little too wide, my expression a little too narrowed, yet he didn’t say anything. He just held my gaze. He remained calm and collected far better than I did, clearly having had done this more than once.

I shifted my attention to the necklace, holding the pendant between my fingertips as I brought it up to study it. There was the image of an greek statue surrounded by litters of flowers. The woman depicted in the pendant held one hand to her chest, the other at her side as he cast her gaze aside. It was a beautiful necklace.

“Persephone.” He suddenly spoke.

I met his gaze in the mirror, confused.

“The woman in the pendant. It’s Persephone. The goddess of growth, fertility and love.”

I shifted my gaze to the pendant once more. His statement made the necklace seem even more beautiful. For a moment I seemed to forget what I had seen in the night before and I was back with the same James I knew before.

My eyebrows furrowed as I remembered his prior words. I had this made for you.

Had I reminded him of Persephone? I knew little of the tales of her and the other Greek gods and goddesses. The face of the woman in the pendant was almost reflective of mine but it was too small to truly tell. Her features became vague with the size of her.

His figure shifted, his hands moving to rest on the chair as his head leaned downwards. His breath was warm against my ear and his eyes held an almost terrifying intensity.

“Tonight, all eyes are going to be on you.”

Those words hung in the air for a moment as he took a small step backwards, his eyes trained on me before he turned away and took slow strides out of the room. I couldn’t tell if those words were just an utterance of mere fact.. or a warning not to try anything stupid like tell my mother what I had seen.

The memory of the nightmare I had last night flickered in my mind and I couldn’t help but picture the entirety of the guests tonight slaughtered at his precise hand for the utterance of a confession. My chest tightened and my eyes began to pool with warmth. I blinked the tears away, letting my head hang as I took in a slow breath.

I clenched the pendant in my hand, holding it tight. I wanted to rip the necklace off and discard it, but I couldn’t find the strength to do so. My hand shook, my lip trembling as my eyes pressed shut. I couldn’t let him ruin this for me. I had dreamt about this night for so long.

Breath.

Just breathe.

Tag list

@i-dont-know78

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@bluewingedangel

@aominewryne

@rcmupout

@thewayilovedjay

@pelopsss

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@pelopsss

[dizzzyondreams]

thinking about a descendants south park au

[angstandhappiness]

EASY ON THE EYES, THOUGH 👀

This outfit hurts me but man can he pull it off

[south-park-dimensions]

I LOVE CYBORG KENNY SO MYCH OH MY GODDDDD

(AAA THANKS! Have a Cyborg Kenny fun fact then, as a treat)

(He’s forced to take orders from Alien Queen Red soooo- To be a lil’ shit he’ll speak in morse code, binary, hell he learned French just to fuck with her.)

(She hates him, but he’s her most efficient pawn nowadays so)

[jaehaeryshater]

The King Come Over and his bride Ygritte Firekissed

art by : @shripscapi

Edited to add: I was hoping that people that did not like this ship could still appreciate the art as I gave them two separate pieces, but people have been coming into my inbox on all platforms, so let me encourage you to block the Jongritte and Ygritte tags on tumblr or twt, as well as me so you will not have to see it if this is you. I also would encourage you to create your own AU as it is very fun. My AU is based on Jon becoming King before leaving the Freefolk, so following his psychology as a character, Ygritte is his only choice as consort as long as she’s alive. You can make your own with Val if you want, but I do not owe anyone to pay for commissions of their preferred characters.

Look at my King dawg we’re definitely getting through the Wall!!!

For the last month and a half, I have been working closely with Liesl to design concepts for Jon as King Beyond the Wall and Ygritte as his Queen. Personally, I’m not invested at all in Jon becoming King of the Seven Kingdoms despite him being my favorite character. He’s not very connected with the South and I don’t feel that it’s his birth right or anything, even being the son of Rhaegar. I am significantly more interested in him becoming King in the North, but my interest in Freefolk culture has led me to be far more invested in the idea of him rejecting Southron society as a whole and becoming King Beyond the Wall (this isn’t necessarily mutually exclusive to being King in the North later on).

The motivation for Jon becoming King as opposed to Mance stems from a theory that has been around since AGOT has come out: that the Others will only treat with/negotiate with a Stark. In the prologue of AGOT, when the Others are speaking among themselves before killing the Watchmen, what if they were confirming with each other that Waymar Royce was not a Stark and that they could go ahead and kill him? All in all, it doesn’t really matter if this is true, but rather that this is a plausible rumor that could easily have been passed down among the Freefolk which could lead Mance to conclude that Jon as a leader would give the Freefolk the best chance of survival. It’s not very hard, at least in my opinion, to imagine an AU like this, since survival is the most important thing to the Freefolk during the events of ASOIAF. But is it plausible that under these circumstances that Jon would abandon his Night’s Watch vows? I think so if he can be led to believe that only Stark blood could defeat the Others, but that is not the only factor. Jon Snow is insecure about his bastard status, plain and simple. He’s always lived in the shadow of his Robb, though he loved him. He’s wanted Winterfell, though he didn’t want to nor had any intention to take it from Robb. But he’s known since he was a small boy that he could never Winterfell and that would never inherit anything because he was a bastard. Jon also has thoughts, at least in passing, that Ned loved Robb more than him. He perceives Ned as having been more proud of Robb, of looking at him differently than himself. He’s seemingly always believed this, but there is a sort of confirmation of Jon’s feelings when Ned allows him to join the Night’s Watch without much preparation on what the Watch is actually like. Fully me making assumptions here, not something Jon has explicitly thought, but it’s unlikely that Ned would have sent Bran off at 14 to the Watch without much warning of what it was like, had Bran not become paralyzed. While we never get this exact thought process from Jon, in my opinion it fits into his psychology and insecurity. All this to say, if Jon is offered to be a figurehead, King, a title equal to his brother, but without taking anything away from the Starks or from Robb, that would almost certainly scratch that itch in him. It would be of his own merit, and there would be people behind him that don’t care that he’s a bastard, don’t see him as less than, and are willing to accept him for who he is. Not to mention that it also lets him feel like a hero and as if he is saving something far more precious than himself. And it probably doesn’t hurt that he would be able to remain with Ygritte as well.

We know from the descriptions of Mance and Dalla, as well as from being told directly by the former, that the King and his wife dress like all the other Freefolk, in thick furs. While the Jon and Ygritte arts from above are not particularly ostentatious by Southron standards, they are in obvious contrast to how Mance and Dalla are dressed. My idea was that Jon, having lived South of the Wall in a Lord’s keep all of his life, brought his own ideas to the Freefolk and added a distinction between a King and all other men. Nothing like in King’s Landing, all changes are inspired by his experience at Winterfell. I tried to think of what was achievable by the Freefolk, that would be difficult enough that it can’t be easily replicated for everyone else, but also keeping in mind of what could be done relatively quickly seeing as the Freefolk are focused on migrating South and saving themselves from the Others. The cultures I took inspiration for the clothing from are the Byzantines, Russians, Incans, Aztecs, and Mongolians. I wanted more “open” and flowy clothing, as opposed to more closed off and excessively modest clothing of 1300-1500s Europe that most of Westeros is based off of. Ygritte is still wearing furs, but they are dyed and there is weirwood embroidery in symbolism of the Old Gods and flame embroidery to symbolize her being kissed by fire. Her jewelry are simply clay beads that have been powdered blue. I didn’t want to give her any jewels as I felt it would be too difficult for the Freefolk to cut them directly and just overall would be against the spirit of the Freefolk. However, getting the blue on the clay like that still would be expensive and take a lot of time. I tried to keep the main color scheme surrounding gray as obviously that’s House Stark’s color. Jon’s clothes are similarly nice, with my main concern being him looking intimidating. I want the furs around his shoulders to be black because I wanted to call back to his time in the Night’s Watch without him keeping his psychical cloak, because I’m sure the Freefolk would not want him to do that. The furs are massive and make his shoulders look far larger, in an effort to make him look more intimidating, especially on a battlefield or in negotiations. He also has weirwood embroidery and his sigil is on the front of his outfit (my original idea was for him to have a flag with his heraldry on it, in which case the sigil would have looked far different, with a full length direwolf). There’s a white wolf on one side and either a crow or eagle on the other side (up for interpretation, both are relevant to Jon and one is one of the animals that can be used a symbol of the Freefolk) and the flame in the middle to represent Ygritte, but also defeating the Others as fire is the way Jon originally tried combating them as a steward at the Wall. The sigil is more than about Jon, after all, as it’s for the entirety of House Whitewolf, the House he founds. I thought the name fit far more in to Freefolk culture than something like Whitestark or something along those lines. Ygritte was supposed to have sewn on the sigil herself, and was very adamant about it, and that is meant to be why the thread is uneven and more visible than it ought to be. She’s not very good at the craft!

As I indicated before, crowns are not something common to Freefolk. That would be something else Jon would implement. Ygritte’s crown is very much like a hat, very casual. The beads are nice but obtaining them wouldn’t be unheard of, and holly most likely would not be particularly hard to come by. The reason I gave her a crown with holly is that during Christmas in the Tudor period and even before during pagan celebrations, people would go out into the woods and find holly and ivy to decorate their houses with. Holly was a symbol of masculine energy and ivy feminine energy. If you found more holly, it was meant to indicate that the man would rule the household for the year, and if you found more ivy then the woman would rule the household in the coming year (this was a way to “tell the future” not a rule lol). I liked the holly better for Ygritte so I’m just saying the Freefolk had the opposite belief. Jon’s crown is made of weirwood, which was important to me as I feel like his connection the Old Gods is also important as it is something that him and Freefolk both use to guide them. It ties them together. That being said, a weirwood crown is often used for Bran so I did not want to use a design that was too similar to the one used for him. Bran’s weirwood crown usually is made of weirwood branches, however, and not weirwood bark or logs, so I feel like it’s different enough. The frozen weirwood sap, as far as I know, is also unique to this design. There’s also some ivy to parallel with Ygritte’s holly.

The remaining bits and bobs I wanted to explain are the blue rose and then the face paint. The blue rose is obviously something associated with Lyanna Stark, who is widely accepted to be the mother of Jon Snow. I originally wanted to give him a rose somewhere, whether he was holding it or it was in his embroidery, but I forgot to ask during sketching, and then it was too late. But Ygritte holding the blue rose isn’t just about Lyanna. It’s also about Bael the Bard, a most likely fictitious person (or at least, the tale is fictitious, though I personally choose to believe it’s real) that went South of the Wall posing as a bard. He impressed the Lord of Winterfell so much that he granted Bael anything he wished; all Bael asked for was the most beautiful flower in Winterfell. This was granted for him, but the next morning he had stolen the Lord of Winterfell’s only child, a girl, and had left the flower in her bed in her place. He hid in the crypt with her for a year and they had a son together. Bael eventually went back North of the Wall and eventually Winterfell, having no other heir, passed to Bael’s child. Under this story, Jon is descended from Ygritte’s idol (maybe idol is stretching it, but she really likes him), Bael the Bard. Not only him, but all the Freefolk including Ygritte, according to her story. Following the story’s premise, Jon also poses as Bael and Ygritte as Winterfell’s daughter, with Jon joining her home under false pretenses and “stealing her”, as she calls it. So the blue rose has significance regarding both the Starks and the Freefolk. The face paint is inspired by tattooing done by cultures indigenous to North America. Indigenous Americans are not the only groups to use facial tattooing, the Vikings were famous for it as well, but Viking facial tattooing had more patterns based on shapes rather than lines and dots. I didn’t like the shapes so much, but the chin tattoo was one was that observed in all sorts of different cultures. Usually the chin tattoos with the line were on women in indigenous America, but I found some on men in other outside cultures. The dots I didn’t see outside of Native American culture and the claw marks on Jon’s cheeks I found mainly among Vikings. Because these all are an amalgamation of different cultures, we did them as face paint instead of tattoos because it seemed disrespectful otherwise. Not enough research went into it to be a proper representation of any one culture so paint was a better bet than a permanent body modification that is sacred to a number of cultures. The only thing that was meant to be a tattoo was the chin tattoo, which like I said, actually is from an amalgamation of cultures. Among the Freefolk (in this AU), dots on the cheeks are widespread, one of cultural mainstays of their people, and are generally a sign of peace, whereas the claws are meant to look intimidating and is applied to look like blood (Ygritte applies it for Jon) and is specifically used for military leaders. I really wanted to drive home the point that the goal with Jon’s whole look is to look fearsome.

I have so much more to say about Jon as King Beyond the Wall, how he negotiates with the Wall, the different rules he sets in place, how he sets up being King as a hereditary title once his daughter Bael is born, etc etc, but then I’d be here all day and approximately one person total read through all this. Oops! Ask in my inbox if you have any questions because I would love love love to answer them. All in all, shripscapi (Liesl) is so talented and she worked incredibly hard for me. She was extremely accommodating and changed as much stuff as I wanted. She never complained about the million times I decided something was not quite right and she sent me so many updates. I would recommend working with her to just about anybody. It was very cool what she was able to achieve and I got it in time for the holidays so I can enjoy my winter themed pfp on twt. So thank you from the bottom of my heart Liesl, and I hope everyone showers her with compliments because she deserves it. I also hope that people that don’t enjoy Ygritte very much can still appreciate the art and the concept of Jon as King Beyond the Wall. Hopefully I’ve gotten across how much I love and care for these characters to a chronically online degree and nobody accuses me of mischaracterizing them because that would make me!!!! very sad!!!

Bonus Jon with weirwood leaves:

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

Masterlist

Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader (Slow Burn)

Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Pre Series Content and Extras:

Scattered Memories of the Starks

Shadows of their Hatred

The Quiet Wolf's Reminisce

The Stag and The Young Wolf

The Lost Chapters of Jon Snow

A New Life's Darkened Lust

Interlude of Jealous Desires

The Trials of Resurrection

The Injured and the Perverse

NSFW Alphabet (contains spoilers for part 3 and 4)

Woes of a Modern Day Love (a modern!au)

Fresh Heals of Old Pain (a modern!au part 2)

The Aftermath of Envy (a modern!au part 3)

Stoking the Flames (a modern!au part 4)

Then Came the Explosion (a modern!au part 5)

A Family Conflicted (a modern!au part 6)

A Jealousy of Infighting (a modern!au part 7)

A Small Bundles Flash Forward (a modern!au part 6.5)

A Snowy Wolf Pup (a modern!au holiday drabble)

Part 1:

Wolves of the Lone Stag

Mouth of the Lion's Den

An Intrigue Drenched in Blood

Standing Behind a Betrayal

A War of Tragic Beginning

Part 2:

King and Queen in the North

Shadow of a Fiery Stag

Reunion of New Enemies

Pleasure of Conflicted Desire

The Sanctity of Children

What Lies Beyond The Veil

Part 3:

The Cost of Our Sins

Dragged Through the Violence

Only the Cold

Fire for the King's Blood

Part 4:

Ashes of Various Grey

Plans of Pain and Horror

Afraid of a Ravens Flight

Trust in the Gentle Rasps

Visions in Eyes and Flames

A Bastard or The White Wolf

Part 5:

Home of Bloodsoaked Stone

Blazing Fire of Storming Ice

Ghostly Dreams of Old

Sailing Through the Glow

The Last Dragon

The Winter Rose

Part 6:

The Clash of Three Kings

Shrouded Truth in Sickness

Winged Shadow in the Sky

Light in the Darkest Storms

Peeking the Realms Woes

Blood, Roses and All Lies

Broken Love of the Dead

The Souls Tethered in Death

Wolves of the Past and Back

The Crows and The Sight

Part 7:

A Brewing of New Mystery

Great Wolves of White Mists

Darkness Heavy in a World

Past Becomes the Present

The Thing in the Night

Waving Tides of Turmoil

Greenish White Boodraven

Dark Blood of Blinding Light

And Wait for the Snows

Part 8:

Into the Haunted Forest

Fist of the First Men

Through the Frost Fangs

News From the South

Lies Within the Sunlight

Night of Two Distances

Screams of Cracking Ice

The Final Marching Trek

Fear Overtakes a Night

Wolves Teeth and Claws

Part 9:

Forcing Past Our Safety

One Whirlwind to the Next

Court of the North

Glimpse into the Rains

Scattered Pieces of Truth

Reunions and Realizations

Laws of Gods and Men

A Mockingbirds End

The Cold and the Rats

Blood Filled Danger

Memories of a Dead Past

The Winterfell Sept

Young as Stained Red