#self defense torch

[always-me-meha]

Back when we were kids.

If it was night, I'd be too chicken to walk my friend home halfway.

So I'd send her home with a spray perfume and a lighter for a torch as self-defense, hahaha

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

58 - One Whirlwind to the Next

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

Length: 20.2k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, mental duress, references to cheating/infidelity, past rape and sexual assault, self harming behavior, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v

Notes: Good news the smut drought is over, finally. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

Steady footstep were all which were heard for sometime. The walls around dark as the gentle whistling of wind through the stone walls the only accompanying sound. At least aside from the crackling of fire. One figure against the torch flames stationary along the path. Still so late, or perhaps early being the word more appropriate. Awake for now the betterment of nearing two hours and still your brain went in too many directions to settle.

Having walked Sansa back to her chambers, you found yourself standing alone in the corridor. Hands together as your fingertips toyed with one another trying to consider it all. Eyes wide as you glanced down, you considered someone else you had yet to see upon your return. One which you had only been told about when asking your mother in a moment alone the afternoon previous. It was smart, her idea.

Quick and clever knowing that with who was here, there were few which should never have their paths crossed from what was known. Few knew, but she had moved quickly considering that it was impossible to know what the man would do should he find him so directly. Hidden away, no doubt much to his dismay and you considered that in the early hours you could make your way and few would make notice of it.

A stretch of rooms within the castle that were seldom used but doors locked when not used, none would consider it odd. Arrangements had been made to handle the small details of being in the room for some length of time, but still captivity would it feel like. He may or may not be happy to see you, knowing you were not there to simply tell him he could be free to walk about but this was more important then appeasing someone’s wishes.

Only to make your presence known did you knock gentle on the door, “It’s me.” Slipping in only enough as you unlocked it, did he switch from what looked apprehensive and defensive to a sudden slouch in his shoulders. Moving to where he had gotten up from his bed, sitting horizontal across the way with his back against the wall as you approached.

Looking down to him, it was so question he was playing a game of who would speak first. His expression flat and agitated behind it’s tensity, you did not blame him but you tested the waters of his patience all the same. “Dare I ask how you are fairing?”

Gendry’s response, was precisely what you expected. Dripping in a dryness. “Great. Never better.”

Voice flat as you gently made your way to sit beside him, your feet barley reaching over the side as you let them outstretch, one ankle resting over the other, the lack of dryness by the skirt of your dress’s very edge showcasing how even in such hours you had been outside for some time before now. “You do understand you aren’t being kept here as a prisoner?”

The lack of inflection was indicative of both his irritated state and no doubt, his own amusement. “Of course not, I just can’t leave. Can’t go anywhere. Can’t do anything or interact with anyone except for the two people who bring me food. One of which is your mother. All the freedoms I could ask for.”

Hardly a sigh left you. “There is a difference between being held prisoner, and being hidden away for your own safety.” When he as dryly, asked what, you only raised an eyebrow glancing to him from the side. “Prisoners are revoked their freedom due to the unsafe nature of their presence within a place. You are being kept hidden away so that those same sorts of people, cannot get their hands on you for their own purposes.” His glance met yours as you waited for him to either grasp that or not.

“And Lord Baelish is one of those people?”

You did not hesitate, nor did your voice continue so passively. Dropping down to something much more serious as was the flashing glint behind your eyes. “The gold cloaks did not come looking for you on their own. Joffery had every bastard of Roberts hunted down and slaughtered in Kings Landing.” Only a twitch in his jaw showcased any reaction, not that you blamed him. You scarcely had known how to feel about such information when you learned it. “Who they were and where was not publicly common knowledge. They had to be told names and where to find them.” Gendry only asked if it was him who told Joffery. “He was one of them. He had spies everywhere. He was the reason Lord Stark and myself had found you in the first place. Someone who already knew told Lord Arryn, one of Petyr Baelish’s spies saw, and thus he later knew that you were there, and who you were.”

Shaking his head mostly to himself, you could still sympathize with such a struggle in his mind. The acceptance of being an unknown role in such a game you had no interest in. “What’s a man like him even going to do if he finds out?”

Perhaps that was the worst answer. That you did not quite know. What use he would be, was something only Littlefinger would understand and nor did you think it would be wise to attempt learning it. “For over five years men have been fighting over the Iron Throne. And killing those who get in their way. For all we know, you’re Robert Baratheon’s last living son. The Lannisters would love to see you dead, and Petyr Baelish would sell you to them, walk you himself to your death just for a single chance of gaining some form of power from it. And trust me, your death that time would come far quicker then the last time you were taken prisoner by a royal family.”

From your position, his head dropped as did the weight in his shoulders. Voice it was evident, that was lightened a bit too from the breathlessness of the words. “So, they want to kill me for something I didn’t even know I had something to do with until two years ago.” Answering much more in his fashion, a single word of agreement. His hands wrung together as his forearms hung over his bent knees, your own fingertips begging to dig into the others skin from behind your gloves. “We’re not really people to you, are we? Just a million different ways to get what you want.”

You took no offence personally, nor did you think he intended it towards you as such. Inhaling, your voice steady moreso then his, but not quite as affirmative as he may have needed. “Petyr Baelish doesn’t see anyone as equal to him. Which means not you at the lowest, nor highborns such as myself are people. Not to him. No one here knows who you are. I am attempting to keep it that way, because I’d rather see you alive then in danger known out in the open.”

Sensing his gaze on you more questioningly, you allowed that silence between until he found the correct words in his mind to get it across out loud. “I’m starting to think maybe I should’ve kept my fake name. Make it less obvious I’m here, or that I have anything to do with whatever you highborns are always up to.”

The smirk was small, but it passed over your features. “If you don’t trust highborns, why did you reach out to me?”

On his own, a smirk identically matching fell over his expression. “Couldn’t tell you.” Your brows narrowed in question, but you needed not ask he elaborate. “I was alone, didn’t know where to go, and was too paranoid to stay in one place too long. Everything the way Arya talked about you, you didn’t sound like you were like your father, so I just did it. And spent months after feeling stupid for thinking you’d care.”

Both smirks grew as did your jest. “My apologies for showing up and ruining that neglectful image.”

The quiet was actually, for a while, quite comfortable. Neither needing to fill the air, content just in that night darkness without interruption needlessly. Though, questions no doubt rolled through his head as by the time either spoke again he had breached the subject most obvious between you. “So, what was it like? Out north of the Wall?”

A deep sigh left you, the feeling of uncertainty of much, or nearly all passing through. Neither you nor Jon had spoken much of it, but you did not need too. Speaking such things in a way that made sense, was another issue. Thus, a non answer was your choice of path. “It’s a long story.”

Dismissive as he was sarcastic, your eyes rolled over to his in a glare he knew you didn’t mean. “Best not then. I’m a bit busy.” Both your glare and his amusement held at a stand off until he found a better directional leading question. “Alright, I’ll start over. How are you?” The tone was immense to the degree one would need scale a mountain to see the tops of it’s reach in mocking.

You however, took the path least antagonizing thus far. “Well, I was thrown down a hill in an explosion, kidnapped, travelled in the middle of the night trying to fight for my life to return to Jon, jumped in a freezing river to escape being attacked by the dead, and to top all of that off, I gave birth a little over a week ago.” You could see the dramatic head turn as he asked in clarification that you gave birth. Staring forward towards the small candle lighting the other side of the room in the middle of a table, you felt your eyes blur unfocused. “And I don’t suppose saying I almost bled to death during it makes any of that sound much better, does it?”

Only you could hear the surprise if not confusion in his voice. “I’ve been alone in here a few days, but I haven’t gone mad enough to think you were gone that long.” Shaking your head no, did he lead himself to further conclusions. “Nine moons, meaning you were passed three when you went out there, how did you not know? You didn’t know, right?” Adding onto your silence and you dared not see his face.

“I was only two. I went into labour a full month early.” Asking if you meant out there and you nodded once more but slowly. “We both knew, Jon and I when we left. We had no choice.”

Returning to neither of you saying much, Gendry sighed deeply before finding his voice once more. “And no one else-” Only did you get as far as opening your mouth before closing it again but he caught it. “Who knew and let you go out there? Other then the bloody King in the North apparently.”

He had caught your attempt to speak and hesitation, but he also caught your dragging eyes to the side to glare at him before looking back to the candle at nothing. “Maester Wolkan knew, or, he figured it out. I’m not sure which. Arya knew.” Words were not needed, your smirk to his open mouthed near offence said it all on his end. “Don’t get mad at her, it wasn’t her secret to tell.”

Had Gendry not said it so quickly and so passingly, you might have had the time to feel your heart and stomach lurch forward. “You know you’re the only thing like a sister I’ve ever had, you don’t think knowing you walked up North to your death while pregnant isn’t something someone should’ve told me about?”

If not mercy for yourself but him, you pushed passed the wording as in the moment. “Have you told Arya who you are yet?” His silence once more, was something you read with ease as you tilted your head somewhat to the side as if to put emphasis on your point. “Then why would she know you’d want to know that?”

By the time you dragged your feet to the floor, some time and conversation passed which was much needed for your anxiously riddled mind. You looked back to him as you grasped the door handle. “Why haven’t you told her yet?” Clarifying at his narrowed brows to the question. “Arya. You mean a lot to her, and her you. Why not tell her the truth?”

Honesty was not what you were expecting in a raw fashion, but the manner which he dropped his head to his lap showed it all. “When we met, we thought the other were a couple of no one’s. Low life’s on the road to the Wall but we got along all the same. Then she told me who she was, and I can’t really tell even now if she regrets it.” You didn’t ask, but he still answered with a non meaning shrug of his shoulders. “Suddenly I was the no one and she was a highborn lady. I think part of her misses when neither of us had to worry about that stuff.”

You did not say anything further to ask his side, it was right out in the open. It was something you never had quite been able to understand, the life you had led but you could only say what you did, as someone who knew both parties. “You should trust her more.”

Gendrys brows narrowed, but you didn’t elaborate nor give him the chance to ask, before you left.

Of course as the sun begun to arise, the Stark in question made themselves known. As if there were one which being out so early had an advantage, it was certainly Arya. The degree to which all formality left as she finally spotted you since your arrival back was quite amusing to all who had a chance to notice it. Nearly knocking you over in a hug, forgetting clearly what she knew Jon had told her that you still had other injuries to recover from. The wince in your face as you hugged her followed by a breathless laughter had her come to her senses, backing up properly.

At that point, others doing the same was inevitable and thus your intent to start the day quietly was no longer an achievable goal. Trapped between one conversation and the next, you felt almost on the edge of lightheaded. Barley seeing her turn the corner did you see Maege in the distance, clearly debating with herself if interrupting to save you was better, or if watching you squirm for a little longer was more appealing. No amount of time had changed that she saw you as much a Queen, as she did a friend to endlessly find amusement in watching the suffering of.

Mostly Lords and Ladies whom you had known, jokes that the King in the North was hiding you away all to himself, after having you to himself for months. Only a tiny light within you was amused, the other majority begun to feel trapped. Suffocating as words and people stood all around you. The nerves mostly from so much talk and questions, you had a whirlwind getting through. Certainly in more then one way, but despite that, for once the sudden turns of formal greetings of “Your grace,” had ticked it in your mind that of gratitude.

Jon making his way to your side, pulling you more into him with an arm wrapping around your waist before leading you away saying you were needed elsewhere right now. Slipping it to your lower back he pushed you forward gently and had yet to move it by the time he could speak without listening ears. Muttering low but more rough then you expected so close to your ear as he leaned into you. “I was wondering where you ran off too.”

If he believed you, Jon did not make that known one way or another. “Woke up a bit early. I thought I’d stretch my legs a little, ran into Arya and that was that.” You did catch the deep chuckle, and the proceeding knowledge that he had yet to move far from you. “I was trying to make my way back, I know need to take- “

The hand on your back ran a bit higher up your spine, then back down and again. A repeating but almost soothing manner as was his voice, despite the roughness behind it. “Already brought him to Maester Wolkan, told him to start checking up on how the baby is doing while I came and found you.” Your eyes flickered somewhat to him, but not committing to the point you could properly see his face. “I told you, I’m making sure you’re alright too. You went through more then you should’ve had to out there.”

If Jon also saw the harsh swallow in your throat, he too, said nothing about it. Arguing to yourself, you were simply matching his low tone, and it was not in fact nerves which strained your own words coming out to the air. “He said I was fine when we first arrived. I’m sure I don’t need to take up his time-”

Cutting you off, Jon was not angry but there was a firmness in the manner which he spoke it. “Your well being isn’t a waste of time.” He hadn’t stopped you both walking, and thus the hesitation had to be in your words not your stance, thinking if you stop in place, did he’d merely tug you back along with him like you were a child. But when you protested that wasn’t what you said, he dug deeper. “It’s what you meant.”

You weren’t really sure what you were expected to say, it was true but Jon wasn’t supposed to pick up on it. The thought came before you could shove it ill from your stomach, that perhaps he only picked up on it, because he wasn’t actually at ease yet. If he just let you- if he had simply done it and let you get over any pain, he’d be more relaxed by now. But he wasn’t. Marred in a thick insecurity you were desperate to hide away, you attempted to steer him from the tense discussion brewing. “There isn’t much more he can do, then what you’re already telling me to do.”

Quick Jon was that morning it seemed. “Darling, if you were resting like you’re supposed to, you wouldn’t have run off in the night for nearly three hours and not come back.” Your heart skipped a beat, you had no idea he had actually noticed.

“Did the baby wake-”

Shutting down the out you were trying to serve him, Jon let the hand on your back drift back down to your waist before gripping a bit tighter, matching the edge in his words as well. “The baby was asleep the whole time. I know you left, because I sensed you weren’t beside me. I woke up and had no idea where you were.” Waiting but a moment passing to add, “You should’ve woken me up if you were having trouble sleeping.”

The flatness in you could’ve been mistaken for a time not anything was wrong around you both, the dry slight raise of your eyebrow towards him. “Waking up somebody else, because I cannot sleep does not seem reasonable.”

You truly had not at all seen coming what Jon had to say next. Your breath nearly ceasing to function temporarily as did your heart. “Neither is tricking me into making you do something against your will, because you think it’ll please me.”

Eyes tearing themselves up and to the side to look at Jon, but his eyes were not his voice. The greys wide and gentle as he only nodded for you to the door you had not realized you both had reached by that point. His lack of words after only made you feel on edge beyond what you had even previously understood what you felt. The anxieties rippling through your blood evident as you stepped into Wolkans study, almost catching the Maester off guard by your demeanour.

“Your Grace.” As if in a brief daze you hadn’t even registered he was speaking to you, and not Jon considering the later had only left the study to find you.

A tear came through that you were hoping the early hours of the morning still could cover up the feeling inside of you growing as deeply upset as it was dark and festering. “Is he alright?” Coming right up to where he had little Eddard laid out, limbs begun to wave and kick briefly as the baby happily reached out to you. The laugh leaving you was as breathless as before but much more genuine. “Now, now, behave for Maester Wolkan. He’s making sure you’re in proper form.”

A hand reaching to yours, only a finger he was barley able to hold onto, but it seemed enough to direct his focus to calm down as Wolkan begun to elaborate. The sudden feeling of Jons hand pressing against your back, followed by his warmth indicated he had no problem coming up close to you still. But for once, you had no idea in what context did his normally comforting touch meant this time.

“I can safely assure both of you that any immediate risk he could have found himself in has passed. By the new moon I expect he will be caught right up in the growth a normal infant his age should be.” Your eyes had yet to look away from the baby, whose eyes now swapped between all three adults hovering by him. “You two have done a fine job.”

If it was said or meant as a jest, you did not hear it nor take it that way as it left murmuring beside your ear from Jons lips. “She’s the one whose done all the work, believe me.”

He had taken you off guard earlier, and now it had been your turn for him. It came out short, and almost dismissively angry the way you hardly turned to look at him as it hissed out. “Jon.” You could only feel the frustration that he would so easily put the credit onto you, when for the first few hours of his life, all he had to protect him was Jon alone.

You saw neither of the mens reactions. Wolkan had taken a moment to clear his throat, you still oblivious to the tension you had put forth in the room. “Regardless, continue caring for him as you are, and we will soon scarcely be able to remember we were worried about him health at all.” Looking in a gesture to Jon towards the baby, “Would you be alright with him while we examine the Queen here?”

Just as Jon easily confirmed he would, you had looked up to Wolkan with a hesitation. “Is this really necessary-”

“Yes.”

Wolkan it seemed, took Jons answer as the correct one and gently guided you to a different side room, “Let’s start with the easy ones.” First your visible injuries, then the more subtle ones, and finishing off with the remainder as questions flew through you head. Jon had not invaded the space, you could somewhat see peeks of him holding the baby, talking quietly and sweetly at him like he was born for all of this.

Laying there, your mind hoping you’d be able to come up with something to defend yourself with against whatever it was you did last night to make him mad. When everything you did was for such an opposite reaction. By trying to please him, you somehow made him even more mad at you. But, did ever really doing things of your own idea make it any easier when it was Ramsay trying to teach you those lessons?

No, no it was not any better. The less you fought Ramsay back, the less violent his subsequent punishments would be. Perhaps you thought to yourself, you needed to actually remember that lesson for once. Listen to what Jon was mad about, agree and do whatever he wanted to salvage the problem and you could pretend for one more day that the darkness in your head wasn’t consuming you with what you struggled to see, were lies.

You had not a clue what it was Jon spoke to Wolkan about alone once it was all said and done, but only that you wait outside the room for him while he talked to the Maester in private. Hovering by the opposite wall, you seemed to rock little Eddard in your arm as if the motion would soothe your anxiety instead of calm his already comfortable state.

But when he emerged, he said nothing of what they spoke of, or of what he had said before you both walked inside. Leading you down the hall, he kept you close once more to his side. “You can say no, but I’d like for you to join me downstairs to eat this morning.” He breezed passed your pause, lips parted as if to say something unsure but nothing had come out. “Most of them have met the baby by now, and the rest know not to hound you like earlier.”

He wanted you with him to eat? Publicly? That dark fog told you that you did not understand it, and it was so painfully easy to listen to it. But you nodded your head, adjusting your hold on the baby as if to fidget. Your voice little more then a mutter for Jons ears only. “That depends, will eating upstairs stop you from watching my progress at meals more then Maege and my mother?” Jon hummed a laugh in your ear, so warm his breath against your skin as he said no. Your mutter that time a little more playfully dry. “Then downstairs it is, I suppose.”

Sometimes you truly felt so out of place. Coming into the main hall things set out, and it was almost strange. Seeing so many people around it naturally as if it were the busy mornings in Winterfell in such easy, innocent times. Faces were different and some were older and changed, but there was an energy around the table that at the very least, had settled in a little. Luckily, your morose attitude was briefly lifted almost soon as you walked in.

Arya near the edge of one side of the long table, Meera opposite her on the other and by the end where normally nothing stood, sat Bran. Glancing down to it, your smile went from non existent to something bright as you looked at him. “What’s this?”

A smile so boyish came over Brans face, one looking as if he had not worn it in too long. Gesturing down, “Do you like it?” Explaining as Jon guided you over, nudging you to one side where he’d sit beside you. “Maester Wolkan had it made, said he had known others who couldn’t walk anymore so he had the instructions all prepared.”

Still you felt Jons hand on your back as you slowly sat down, shifting the baby in your arms without moving to any food. Once Jon sat, he wasted not a moment doing it for both of you. Meera looked to Bran and then you, a brightness a little more returned to her own face thankfully. “It has wheels, so all he needs is someone to push. It’s a lot easier then having to pull him around everyday, all that weight.”

Bran instantly screwing his face up in protest, “I’m not that heavy-”

Meera didn’t hesitate to interrupt him saying he was. With Arya piping up and little hesitation to join their banter. “If you could stand on two feet, you’d be taller then both of us. You’re heavy.”

The three teenagers all seemed to get along in the days since you all had returned. It was some consolation, that through the horror, perhaps not all of a childhood was stolen just yet. As Jon murmured your name, as soon as your eyes met his grey ones he nodded to the food he put in front of you. Before you could say anything, Bran spoke up easily. “Do you want us to hold him for now? Give you a chance to eat properly?”

Arya jumped at the opportunity before you had really said yes. “I get him first, I’m the only one here who hasn’t met my nephew yet.” As a small laugh left you, a brighter smile watching from Jon grew more as he watched you ensure Arya was holding him properly. Looking down at him in her arms, he once more was calm as if all he needed was to be around Starks to be happy. Arya’s smile was as wide and childlike as you suspect she’d had since you were together in Kings Landing. “Look at you. I’m Jons sister, Arya. Don’t worry, I’m going to be your favourite.”

Bran argued he’s known him for the whole time he’s been born, starting a trading of jokes between the three of them. Your attention finally back down to the food Jon put in front of you. You had not said it, but you suspected he had chosen what to put on your plate specifically instead of letting you pick at whatever you’d find on occasion.

You hated that the thought came right to you the moment you took your first bite. That you weren’t getting any smaller eating like this. But, you said nothing. Not to yourself on the matter but also not to anyone out loud, no matter how often the present company directed the conversation into matters you could easily jump in on. You simply ate quietly, and let them all enjoy the morning.

For now, things were easy. People had to get settled in, and much had to be done to bring Jon up to speed and he had much work atop that to tackle before anyone did anything. Still to the people you and the baby had not been brought out from the main halls of the castle in any way, Jons insistence that you are properly healed first, despite you not really understanding why he cared about that.

None of your injuries would be visible to the people by now under your clothes. But why Jon cared, you didn’t grasp still. A lot you didn’t grasp, some days were foggier then others but Jon had not yet brought up what he had said in the corridor the other day. And you didn’t know if that meant he was still mad at you, despite you not really understanding what you did to make him mad in the first place.

The thing was, Jon knew you didn’t understand. For more then one reason. His discussion with Maester Wolkan had been quite eye opening, even on top of what Yara had described. Jon had first tried to talk around certain things, bringing up your general mood and your ability to bond with the baby. Luckily both coming to the conclusion that the later was not a problem, considering the manner which Wolkan had huffed out a laugh as Jon described, “She doesn’t even want the wet nurse anywhere near him.”

But he seemed to understand what Jon wasn’t saying. How the biggest sign Jon knew something was wrong was not one he was so easily comfortable with describing, as he dodged the leading questions to answer it in a different way. Being back in Winterfell was helping, being around people who could help you was aiding in your mood and day by day thus far you had looked with a little more life in your eyes but you still struggled to sleep, and you also still struggled with eating. Moreso then ever before.

Jon knew you understood you had to eat, because you were feeding the baby from your own breast. Your health was important to his health and development, but were if not for that Jon guessed you would hardly be ending the day with a full meal in you. If nothing else, Jon was grateful that when Wolkan asked if Jon ever feared you were unstable around the baby, it was a firm no, and Wolkan too, seemed relieved.

But then there was little left to say, other then what Jon hadn’t been comfortable yet bringing up. Thus, Wolkan took the plunge and asked the most direct leading question he could provide if not asking outright. “And how would you say she is, when with you? In your time alone together, does she seem to struggle then?”

Jaw clenched, he had crossed his arms over his chest as if containing the increase beating of his heart from bursting out with the same nerves. It also, simply hurt a significant amount to say out loud. “She’s the worst when she’s alone with me.” Wolkan nodded, but said nothing, only indicating he was listening intently for Jon to continue. Sighing deeply, Jon paced along the room suddenly unable to stand in one spot as he attempted to conjure up the correct way to phrase it. “She-”

Running a hand over his mouth, the awkward agitation was noticeable, Jon knew. Once more, Maester Wolkan prompted him without judgment. “A question a tad on the personal side, your Grace, but may I inquire as to if these issues are intimate in nature?” Jon hesitated, but nodded. Giving Wolkan the direction he needed to start putting the final idea together. “I would not ask for more information to put you at unease, but a bit more of a description of the behaviour you’ve noticed would go a long manner.”

Jon did not want to go into this, but in truth, it was the clearest indicator he had of a much bigger problem going on inside your head. How other men so easily went into detail about their escapades with women, Jon had no idea. But by the time he relayed what had occurred, there was no longer a point of hiding away his thoughts on the matter. “It felt like she wanted me to not give her a choice. Like she didn’t understand why I wouldn’t..” The lurch in his stomach felt sickening, but his voice was gruff pushing through it. “Why I wouldn’t force myself on her.”

Wolkan was rather silent, but Jon could see deep thought swirling behind his eyes. “Has she exhibited this sort of inclination before?”

Nodding, Jon returned to pacing as his eyes briefly closed as he shook his head almost to himself. “At the very start, but it was never this bad. For some reason she’s convinced if she’s not letting me just use her like a whore, then I’ll find someone else.” The idea was so vastly uncomfortable to him, that Jon had been shocked the feeling didn't bleed out into the room and reach you waiting for him in the hall out the door.

Taking a seat at his desk, he prompted Jon to follow suit. Taking a moment, as the man already begun to speak before Jon did, sitting across from him. “I suspect there are a few factors at play here. Though, I do not think I need elaborate much on one of the likely most difficult influences here.” If Jon wasn’t so on edge with worry, he’d feel that rage all over again. The man was dead so long there would be nothing let of him but bones and still he haunted over you like a phantom. But Wolkan wasn’t done. “I fear, Ramsay Bolton’s influence is being mixed abhorrently with a rather harmful mindset I have seen in countless new mothers. The fear that now their only use is to breed sons for their husbands, and thus he will move on to younger and prettier prospects to bed instead. Some women's fears come true, and I also would count on the fact that she likely has seen that occur more often then not. Leading her to believe she is foolish for thinking she would be the exception.”

Jon didn’t need the final conclusion spelled out for him, he got it perfectly fine. He scarcely felt his heart tear away at him quite that way. The wide, bright look in his eyes emphasized by the fact that the greys in them were painted over with something as devastated as he was lost. The realization that this sickness in your head had convinced you that all of the horrible things people taught you were true. That the only way you knew to make Jon happy, was to try and get him to treat you the way you knew Ramsay had enjoyed treating you.

But the thing was, you had not a clue what this had done on the opposite end. And he hated himself for not picking up on it that night. You were genuinely enjoying yourself enough that when you begun to lie and pretend, Jon was fooled. Were he to have not put his foot down, you’d have put yourself in pain just to let him fuck you, because you had begun thinking he’d find it elsewhere if you didn’t give yourself over to him for too long.

So instead, you promised him you wanted to take him in your mouth, and tricked him into forcing you past your limits that night and pretended you wanted it for his sake. You just did what you thought he wanted not to risk him being mad at you or tossing you aside.

You didn’t know it, but the reason the past days Jon had not let you come close to anything remotely sexual in nature, was partially for your well being, and another part because you hadn’t realized, you had essentially turned Jon into her. Into Ygritte.

Pushing yourself passed your limits, your needs, what you felt safe doing, just to please him as to not set off a worse or volatile reaction against you. She thought Jon was willing when he forced himself to do the same, and now you were doing it to Jon thinking he wanted things just as Ramsay had.

Truthfully, Jon had no idea how you hadn’t woken up these past nights at how tightly he held you after you fell asleep. Trying to almost convey to himself and you in your most vulnerable state, that you two were more then that, that he was there to protect you not use you. Wolkan had given him advice on what to do, but Jon had yet to tackle the what to say. He needed to address this to you directly, he couldn’t let this fester between any longer.

But by seeing yourself as little more then a pleasure toy for him, you had accidentally put Jon in the exact position he was scared he had done after your very first night together. That he had forced you with him thinking you wanted it when you didn’t. That time, he was mistaken about it. This time, he wasn’t, but you had tricked him into it thinking it would make him happy.

With everything Jon had piling up getting in the way of being able to just take care of you, he had not expected it.

Jon had only just been left alone one afternoon in the meeting hall. Back leaned up against the main table, his hand running over his face with a deep sigh from what felt like the fifth meeting he had that day alone. The room having just emptied out as he remained to collect his thoughts before simply jumping into another.

The sound from the other side of the room indicated the door had been opened, just as quiet footsteps filled the echo of the empty space. Whatever it was, Jon had waited for them to speak first but the voice had sounded distant even beyond the meters between each of them. As if they hadn’t known what to say, and it only came off as stilted. “When you left for the Nights Watch, I never quite thought this was how we’d all see you back here again.”

As it turned out, she looked as distant as she sounded. It appeared that the gap between them was as if Sansa stood alone by the door refusing to come closer. Her face even harder to read, two of his younger siblings had been so easy to reunite with. Yet the look on hers now was as if she did not know what sort of reunion she wanted to have either. “I didn’t know I was coming back.”

The silence was distinct, and Jon finally realized how Arya must have felt. In another life, they’d be happy to see each other again. But Jon only stood straighter without moving, as Sansa barley stepped further into the main hall closer to where he was. What was the use of pretending this was a reunion when they both knew thus far Jon had been the one she was avoiding the most. Inhaling almost in preparation for whatever this was going to be, Jon attempted to mend the bridge before they both acknowledged how broken it already was. “Sansa-”

She however, came with questions quicker then what she once used to speak up like. “How did they let you leave?” Her eyes barley shifted, nor did she move much. Frozen in place like a statue that Jon hardly recognized. Dressed in clothes and cloaks dark and almost as if wanting to appear intimidating as opposed to the naive girl she left home as.

“It’s complicated.” What could he even say to her? How he was elected Lord Commander, what came of it, going after you, death, returning to life and everything since then to now? That was not a story most knew even close to him but you in full. It was only a joke, something to ease the heavy tension between them but he suspected Sansa had not taken it well once he said it. “Harder to execute me for desertion now that I’m a King, probably.”

For only a moment did her eyes flicker to the side with something a little more tight and on the edge of frustrated, but had covered it up with a half baked smile when she looked back. He too, was not sure if it was meant as a joke what she said. “So you can get away with whatever you want?”

In truth, it was difficult to see the joke in there the way he could’ve easily detected it were that to come out of Arya’s mouth. “There’s a difference between a King and a tyrant, Sansa.”

A tilt of her head came as she once more, said it both passingly and yet with a weight he had no idea what the intention was behind the words. “Joffery was a King, and he always did whatever he wanted no matter what it was.”

Her face was still and yet slipped into something taken back as Jons expression turned to a much quicker offence as his tone dropped. Pushing from the table more a step towards her but she didn’t move or blink as he slightly rose his voice. “Do you think I’m Joffery?”

The lightness in her face was only meant for her, an amusement in her thoughts Jon was not privy too whatsoever, only adding to the tension. “No. You’re probably as far from Joffery then anyone I’ve ever met.” He’d say thank you, if he could yet figure out what this was. And her next question only served to add to that doubt.

“Will you start wearing a crown?” If his little sister was trying to come off as patronizing, it was working. Asking shortly why he’d do that, she almost gave what looked like a shrug. “I thought Kings wore crowns.”

If Jon took the time to consider the manner which she phrased that, he may decide he would not like what conclusion he came too, so he moved passed it with something hopefully a little less stilted. “Robb was King for longer then I’ve been, if he never wore a crown then I don’t see why I would.” Or maybe, Jon realized what should’ve been an easier subject if moving towards others in their family would’ve gone over better had it been anyone but Robb. As a look came over her eyes that seemed a but more unreadable and more on the edge of unpleasant then he’d expect from her and once more attempted a different direction, as your name came from his lips in a more fondly amused manner. “Not sure if she’d appreciate having to start wearing a crown anyways.”

There was where he spotted it. A little light in her eyes as he brought you up. Jon didn’t even know how much she’d remember just how attached to your side she was when she was a very young girl. Something warm came over him, the relief that even in such a small way, there was still somewhere in there, the sister Jon remembered. Instead of this near stranger he didn’t know how to talk to.

Looking away for a moment, Jon’s eyes drifted down enough to see as she wrung her hands together only as long as it took for her to return to the present with a much more reserved state again. “When did you two marry?” Answering two months before you got pregnant. Sansa thought for a long moment. “So you were King for months before you married. Why wait?”

His voice low and a bit rough, he dared not step on your toes from your own hurt prior. “I didn’t care about rushing into anything, we took our time.”

Now it felt as if she was digging at him for something he wasn’t quite catching, her tone a little more short as if pretending she wasn’t offended by something. “If she was Queen for years beforehand, what’s the point in waiting to marry her? Why not do it right away and seal that power for you then?”

No, he thought to himself. Don’t consider that she is implying what he seemed to suspect she was implying. Instead he took another step towards her with a much more stern tone that time. He didn’t even address the second part of her question. “She’d been through a lot. I wasn’t going to rush her into something just because I wanted it.”

Sansa was far to quick, and bordering too close on accusatory. “So you wanted to marry her in general.” It wasn’t even a question, nothing curious was there except for an agenda he did not appreciate. Only affirming that of course he did, but Sansa did not seem to find that answer either convincing or satisfactory. Her tone that like a question but dripping with a lecture. “Isn’t it standard practice historically, that a King and Queen marry and have a child right away to ensure the King’s blood line with an heir?”

It was, but not this time. Jons silence was as difficult for her to read as her doubt for him. There was something she was not saying that was being attempted to dig into, but Jon was not in the mood to handle it here and now. “We had a child together because we wanted to.”

“So she wanted to get pregnant?”

The last person he wanted to feel this rising anger towards was his little sister, but Sansa had not a clue what a line she was trying to cross here. Not with you, not now of all times. His voice was noticeably rougher then it was before and both were beginning to realize he was not hiding that rising anger. “I thought you said I wasn’t Joffery.”

Oh the swiftness of what she said only made Jon that much more tense. “You aren’t. I wasn’t here, I’m only asking questions. The last time I saw you, you left to join the Nights Watch and she was married to Robb.” Jon let her deal with the quiet air, he had nothing to say to that or whatever which was hidden in something like that. Or whomever those thoughts actually came from. “You named him after father.”

A hint of a smile appeared in his eyes. “I did.”

If for just a moment, did finally a crack appear as something soft came over her too. “I- could I see him?”

That he would never deny. No matter what he and her had to sort out, little Eddard was her nephew. The last thing he’d want was to deny any of his family from being in his sons life. Nodding as your name was voiced out Jon explained, “She’s in my chambers with him resting right now, but anytime this evening. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see you no matter what.”

There it was, the bright shine ever so briefly of a what was once just a little girl who looked to you like the big sister she’d always wanted. Nodding, she opened her mouth only to close it as she looked down in thought, coming back to say something now she knew was out of left field. “You didn’t take the Lord’s chambers for yourself?”

Raising an eyebrow, Jon didn’t quite see any thought process behind that. “No. It didn’t even occur to me. I don’t need a fancy room just because I’m King, that wasn’t why I took back Winterfell.” No, he had done it so what remained of his family could have a home again, but he did not know why Sansa still did not seem to grasp that included her. “If you want it, you should take it.”

Jon had a feeling he’d have to have a word with Arya about Sansa taking it, knowing letting her have their fathers chambers would be a bit of a contentious choice, but he’d have given it to Arya if she said she had wanted it first. That and he was sure that Bran still quite liked his chambers, alone up at the top of the stairs. She didn’t quite say anything further, but she nodded and begun to leave the way she came.

Calling out to her once more, something much more full and genuine came through the quieter tone which followed. “Sansa, I’m happy you came home. We’re family, all of us. We need to stick together. Protect each other. Now more then ever.”

What she’d take from that, was up to her. But once more she nodded before Jon was alone in the hall again. A pressing question remained however, how much of what she had said was of her own conclusions and how much had been the words of Littlefinger in her ear for years now? Whatever he promised her had led her to return home strained towards Jon more then she’d ever been.

The fact that Jon couldn’t even be the one bringing up Robb to her, stung something inside him. The last thing he wanted was for his brothers memory to be something tainted to her because of what Littlefinger had said and done.

Which was something Littlefinger was rather good at that. Slinking between one to another with the hopes he could wound himself around their heads until they were twisted to his will one way or another. The Starks were a target he had been looking towards a very long time. Since the day you suspected, it was arranged that a young and beautiful Catelyn Tully was to be wed to Brandon Stark. It had begun then and never ceased, only he sought to drag those around each wolf he encountered with him.

Never had he failed to make his attempts to each new wolf within his passing. You had scarcely emerged to the world since arriving back in Winterfell, and you expected that the image painted for him was that you were too weak, too ill to know of his presence, if only not caring. For a man with so many eyes around the realm watching for him, he did not quite realize the blatant ones both right in front of him, nor boring into his back.

“I’ve heard much about you, more then you might think.” The knowing in his voice always dripping in something condescending. He had approached him while he was alone, taking advantage of the quiet he sat in to spin his tales and lies.

Bran however, was not the foolish boy Petyr Baelish likely thought he must be. Even though as his brows narrowed in a doubtful confusion, you read it perfectly fine. “Strange, I haven’t heard anything about you.”

You could hear the smile on his face. “Not so strange. I am a man of business, not adventure like yourself.” Repeating the word adventure in a question, Littlefinger came forward more with a hand outstretched in question asking for permission to sit. Doing so as he continued, now sitting across the table Bran had been working away at. “I imagine you have many adventures, my lord. For years the realm thought you were dead. Being on the run in such trying times in your condition must be a fascinating sort of challenge.”

Bran however, did not take it the same way he had as a boy of ten insecure and heartbroken by his new change in life. “If by condition you mean I’ve lost the use of my legs, then yes. But we ran away all the same, just slower.”

For a moment, you nearly invaded your own plan. The moment Littlefinger spoke you felt something in your heart you were certain little Eddard could feel through the soft layers between you as he stayed held against your front. “You fled the Greyjoys with your younger brother. Rickon, was it?”

The image still was something you felt ill recalling. The utter horror of watching how close Jon had gotten, how he could almost reach out to grab his hand and pull him up to safety before Ramsay stopped toying with them both. An arrow slamming right into him from behind as he collapsed on the spot in front of Jons horse. The way in which Jon was frozen for a moment before you had felt that call to command knowing Jon was going to need men at arms beside him faster then they could run to him first.

The way Benjen spoke about it, made it seem as if he knew the story. It only made sense, if he knew because of Bran, since Bran it seemed was the one who knew about Euron. Jon wouldn’t let you wander outside in the cold until you were considered in full health by Maester Wolkan, but you knew the moment you could, you will learn a lot of why he knows these things.

But now, he did not play any role beside young, traumatized, angry teenage boy. “I did. But we got...separated.” The audacity of the man before him to say that at least his killer was brought to justice, and Bran felt the same as you. “Do you really think that the person who killed someone you love, being dead, makes that feel any better?”

“Not exactly, but vengeance is a powerful motivator.”

The air sat silent for nearly five painfully long seconds before Bran muttered out more roughly, “My brother is still dead, and so is the man who killed him. What vengeance?”

Littlefinger seemed to find something amusing, but you stood in silence doubting what it really was he picked up on. Bran asking him what, he seemed to silently agree. Littlefinger played the charm as much as he could, “It is merely interesting this is how we meet, considering where we started.” When Bran spoke none, he continued. “It is simply strange that I finally meet the boy I heard so much about, only after the ones who I heard of you through are gone. Life has unique ways of bringing people together.”

Looking him over closer, Bran narrowed his eyes but little more then a the sound of the very start of a word had been cut off. “Is that why you’re here, Lord Baelish? You simply enjoy bringing people together?” The man stood abruptly, a bow as if nothing was wrong.

“You’re grace.”

You didn’t blink, watching with sharp eyes tinged in a distinct lack of trust. “How about you walk with me, leave Brandon here to his work?” Looking to you now with Littlefinger’s back to him he gave a single nod, small and slow with eyes wider speaking of something the man between had no idea was being communicated.

The smile was fake, but he knew you didn’t buy it regardless. “I couldn’t very well refuse a royal escort.”

Raising your eyebrows, you merely stated rather flatly. “You could. But we both know you won’t.” That was far closer to the truth, you were certain a myriad of things were flowing through his mind as you motioned for him to follow you first. Looking behind, you knew he seemed surprised no guards had accompanied you, but certainly you thought, he knew better. Or he should know better. His threats were not such physical ones and you both were too aware.

Quickly eyes glanced down to the small bundle hidden away in your arms and you could practically write word for word what he could possibly say to start off as formally polite as he knew you didn’t care about. “A beautiful boy, your Grace.” Only a thank you dry and short, you walked slowly through the corridor down a stretch of hall you knew to have few currently around in, forcing him to keep up any conversation. “Have you revealed him to the court yet?” Once more, your answer was short, only the word no and the ensuing awkwardness forced him to be at the verbal disadvantage. “Any plans on doing so soon?”

“When the King decides it is appropriate.”

Stretching thin what small talk he could engage in before you left him with nothing but what you approached for initially, he once more filled the air with a tone akin to questioning as if unsure as to the purpose of your lack of reciprocation. “And how does the King in the North deem it appropriate when to reveal his newborn Prince to his people?”

He no doubt caught the small smirk adorning one side of your mouth for merely a moment. “I’m not sure, my lord. I am not the King, therefore I do not know what a Kings criteria for such an event would be. Why do you ask, plans on staying long enough to attend are you?”

Should you have looked his way, the curious gaze he had begun directing towards you would’ve elicited a much less subtle knowing smirk. He was not a clever as he once was, not here and now. “I aided the Lady Sansa in getting here safely, I felt it only fair to her that I stay here a while and ensure she settles in comfortably.”

Eyes looking nowhere but forward, your tone dry did you let it come into the world more mocking towards him then not. “This was her home for thirteen years. I presume she will settle in just fine without you.” Asking you if this was your way of suggesting he leave, you turned your head just enough to indicate a shift in your demeanour, as your tone dropped. “I am asking why you’re here, why you felt you had the right to come here after everything you’ve done.”

Littlefinger had always spoken to you a bit like you were a child, and now was no different. “We have had our disagreements, your Grace, but I’ve only ever done what the crown I serve bids me. I never set out to hurt your family, I assure you. As I did your husband the other day, though he seemed no more willing to trust in me then you are.”

Your hum was as close to a laugh as one could possibly create. “I cannot possibly imagine why that may be.” Whatever he said, you cut him off as you turned in place to look up at him. Eyes narrowed as the rest of your expression was tense matching the degree in your voice. “I don’t know if you think I am forgetful, Lord Baelish. Or foolish, even perhaps just an idiot. Tell me, in which possible world is there a chance I put even an ounce of trust within you after you broke the last one.”

Neither of you said or asked for details, he would not want you to elaborate as much as you would gladly. “In matters of life and loyalty, your Grace, I simply chose the path which allowed me to keep my head.”

But the way neither of you said it, neither of you also said whom you had referred to. “Yes, you did. Just as you watched Joffery take Lord Starks for a crime we both know he did not commit.”

That smile, truly you hated it from the first moment you met this wretched man. “My trust was not going to be enough to spare you nor Ned Stark’s life, but it has spared his daughters. Sansa would have been tried for murder had I not gotten her out of the capitol.”

Not seconds had passed when you said it, but the process which got you there was not as quick or simple. It was a difficult place. Cersei no doubt would have executed her for murder, thus she was not safe in Kings Landing. So indeed, he had saved her life, but then hid her away for years under his sole protection when you knew too well what those results could create. “And for that you have my gratitude. Truly, Jon and I both. But one good deed does not wash out the bad. Nor a bad, the good.”

Glimmering a flash in his own eyes, there it sat. His words were drenched in an irony which his eyes gave the secret away. “Surrounded by Starks, one could forgive not remembering right away that you are no doubt, Stannis Baratheon’s daughter.”

Does that alarm you, Lord Baelish? Does that remind you that you are not safe and protected by your spies and power and brothels of Kings Landing? He was a mockingbird, and you a nonthreatening doe, but he had walked into the den of wolves. He lacked every understanding that he was not safe here, but his greed and lust for power blinded him.

But, still, you dangled him over an edge he was not yet made aware of. Let him think he still had a modicum of control. “And yet you watched the Starks father lose his head in Kings Landing. I thank you for delivering Sansa home safe, and for arranging the bones of Ned Stark to be returned here as well. But that does not make you a guest here, it does not make you welcome.”

Were your son not with you, you may have had a very different reaction. “Here I thought certain tragedies would have made yourself more sensitive to honouring guest rights.”

The world grew dark as a lightheaded feeling kicked in, your heart screaming at you in a pain you refused to recall on top of the rest haunting you of now. If Littlefinger was not the smartest man here, the tightness in your airless lungs told a story that he was still certainly one of the cruellest. He had never even met Robb. He had no right.

Your slow shift to an upset shock said plenty it seemed, a bow as he looked towards the door to the courtyard you led him to. “Your Grace.” And out he went back to whatever hole he had crawled up from this time. Looking down to your son, you felt a breath finding its way inside. Lungs inflating once more as his large, bright eyes shined up at you now that he had awoken. One hand moved, running over the top of his head, distracting yourself you wished, with the thought of when his hair no doubt was to grow identical to Jons black, thick curls.

The man was here and you all had to deal with it, but he had no right digging up the remains of a love you were taken from. Not when you were terrified that you were soon to watch the one intense and present before you, break apart on it’s very own.

Failing Robb and driving away Jon. It felt as if Littlefinger knew right where to twist a knife to attack the agony in both. One already lost and the other crumbling before you from your own worthlessness.

But you had known you were to protect the Starks from him. But you were not a Stark in any manner of real. Your well being in protecting them against him, was not to be taken into consideration. You would protect the girls, Bran, Jon and your son, but you stood alone. Looking down to the precious bundle so new to the world, and hoped whatever cost you were paying to do so was worth it in their eyes.

Littlefinger mentioned the past of Robb once, and you stood there, feeling yourself spiral so fast from it, even the present was not safe from your destruction. But you couldn’t focus on that. Not tonight at least.

You had to pull yourself together before the moon fell over the sky.

It was a strange moment of something feeling of so genuine and true as you both sat by the edge of the bed. The baby finally sleeping soundly after another new face to meet, leaving you to look over what it was Sansa had brought. She had gone over the details of all them, and thus far each and every small article of clothing had something unique to it. “I can always make more when he starts growing, he’ll still be small for a while so it’ll be easy.”

Looking at them one by one, it was clear she had put time and care into it. Had made clothes herself for her new nephew despite such a difficult place she stood within her home as. But there was something so much more natural in her ways as she merely sat with you explaining each one with a pride and an excitement you’d last seen before she first left these walls.

For the third eldest of her family, she was so far the most nervous to hold him. Hardly moved as she never risked carrying him in a careless way. But she took to him well, spoke gentle with almost a teasing laugh on her tongue as he got used to her, and by the time his eyes were in need of proper sleep, helped ease him down into his new bed before you secured him for the night. For a little while, she was just a girl in your presence, nothing more or less complicated.

“Don’t feel obligated too. The way my mother has spoken, it sounds like there is a fair plenty of people all around who have things they’d like to gift.” Your own wider look of exasperation made her laugh lightly, if not just at you alone, which you could accept. Asking gently when she had begun staying here, you knew it was merely an attempt to pry for information in curiosity, but that perhaps she struggled to come off as such anymore. “A little while before we left for Dragonstone. I’m the only daughter she has left, and we never had a strong relationship before. She decided she wanted to start trying to mend that now.”

Commenting that she seemed much like you, you only rose your eyebrows for a moment in dramatic fashion. “You must not have met most of my fathers side of the my family. In comparison to them, I have nearly nothing in common with my mother. Or my father in some respects.”

You felt her watching you, but allowed any questions to form at her own pace. “You had been out there the entire time you were pregnant?” A slow, single nod was all which you gave, making her face scrunch up in something unpleasant for a moment. The disapproval now much more distinct as she spoke. “I don’t understand, how could he bring you out there for so long if you were pregnant? Anything could have happened to you.”

Eyes softening a little, your head tilted as you met hers. “We both did what we had to do. Jon of all people didn’t want me out there, but there was no choice.” A feeling brewing within told you that there was something she was not saying, nor did you quite catch it when she asked you something strange and yet out of nowhere.

“How quickly did Jon want to marry you?” Your head jolted back, something blatantly confused washing over it. “From what you told me, everything around here happened so fast. I’m assuming when he became King, marrying a highborn wasn’t a big problem. Did he want to right away and everything else just got in the way of it happening?”

You honestly had not a clue where that came from, nor what she was even implying. Truth be told, you had not picked up there was anything to be implied quite then. If you looked back far enough though, not much time had truly passed when the subject was first broached even in teasing terms.

The night before the battle against Ramsay’s forces, Jon had found himself standing behind you, a hand covering your scar over your clothes asking for the first time about the son you lost. The manner the more you spoke, the easier it became. And how when you had amusingly eluded to the fact that Robb had suggested naming your second son together after Jon, he had turned you to face him. Crowding you with bright teasing eyes and a confidence you hadn’t seen on him in such a way ever before.

“Well, when we get to our second boy, we’re sure as hell not naming him Jon.”

You knew had you found yourself with child from the throes of a desperate passion the night you brought him back, what he would have done. Based on timing alone, likely you’d have been on Bear Island by the time you would find out, and you knew Jon would have organized it then and there. Bring you to the heart tree on the island and marry you then, ensure his child never had the risk of life he had grown up enduring.

If you asked her, Maege no doubt would say she wished it had worked out that way. From what you had met of her other daughters, Alysane in particular would likely have given you grief in teasing for worrying about that sort of thing at all. Maege had five daughters all recognized from birth as Mormonts, and she had never been married. Alysane had two currently, and she too had never been married.

When you married Robb, it was not what either of you had expected but you both did not shy away from embracing it. Despite being forced to set your unspoken love for Jon aside, you had known Robb was the future given to you and everything between you both after was easy. One night together and it took months for you to get back to him, and it was as if you two had been married and together that entire time you were in Kings Landing.

The very moment you had become his wife, everything else just became normal. But with Jon, it was different. As your time together had been in secret, to all others it looked as if Jon had never had any kind of a romantic relationship with a girl, nor expressed interest in one. Joining the Nights Watch it appeared as if he simply did not care about that sort of thing but you knew better. He had never said your arranged marriage to Robb was part of that choice, but it was.

He’d likely been thinking about it for some time, and then you had simply been his final push. And now that the world had not protested you both being together in both your new lives, you knew marriage was still not as easy for him. In truth the fact that he had wanted to bed you outside of marrying you at all was still surprising. Only in the freedom of marriage had Jon been truly comfortable being physical with you.

Yes he wanted to marry you because you both truly loved one another, but you also knew marrying you was his only true way of being able to have you. To him, if he married you, he could just have you the way he wanted without fear. So in a way, yes. He did want to marry you right away and everything else did get in the way, but you did not know how much of such a complicated plight Sansa could understand.

As gentle as you could put it, you met her gaze with an ask akin to patience as you were clear with your manner of speaking. “It wasn’t a rash decision in the heat of the moment. He considered a lot of things beforehand, but yes, wars and battles do tend to get in the way of such things.”

But there still was something in the way she looked at you that you could not decipher. Nor did you immediately grasp the meaning of why she would ask you what she did. “Do you love him?”

Lips parted in question, but the door opened to the room and her narrow eyed demeanour stiffened up as much as the honesty in her expression had closed off. Turning in place though you could see Jon had matched her in just as much a purposely closed off manner. “Sansa.”

Almost a question in his tone, but she instead looked to you as you stood as well. “I should go, I didn’t mean to stay so long or interrupt.” Assuring her it was all perfectly fine, she glanced down to the clothes she had brought with a more bright look once again. “When he outgrows those, probably rather quickly, I’d love to make more.”

Nodding with a softer smile, she hesitated to do anything else. Before glancing between you and Jon. A more stiff goodnight she gave before exiting the room without further delay. Jon had turned to watch with a narrowed expression as you gathered the clothes she brought to set them aside. “She wanted to bring the baby some clothes she made for him.”

Coming closer to you, the moment Jons hands went to the belt around his waist you met him in the middle. Your hands almost moving quicker, and more efficient then doing it himself. His voice a murmuring rasp watching you turn from him to properly put the weapons on him away though you weren’t quite expecting the question attached. “Did you see Maester Wolkan this morning?”

Returning to him, you undid everything of his warmer outer layers with something more picking up in your heart. He hadn’t broached the subject since what he said the other day, and so this time you knew you needed to ease into it far more subtle then last time. “I did. He wanted to see how I was healing.” More of a concern on his voice asking what he told you and only as you worked more behind him presently could you see his shoulders deflate from their tension. “He said that everything has healed almost entirely, save for some of the marks.” Inhaling silently, you refused to put emphasis on the subject as you said it. “He also said that since I no longer have any pain, I would be safe to engage in more physical activities once more.”

He hadn’t quite stiffened up, but you felt his breath hitch a little once you got him in his soft single layers, even moreso when you ran your hands up over his shoulders behind him, the massaging motion also digging into the muscle there as his head almost dropped. Murmuring your name, you merely muttered back in a tender manner. “I don’t want to talk about that, not now while I had a bath drawn up for you. The water too as scolding hot as you like it.”

Chuckling deep, he rasped in just as much amusement, “Would it be unfair then to ask you to join me?” Your smile was not forced as neither your words were too, answering that you would love too. Turning in spot, Jon grasped your hips suddenly as he looked down at you, lips parted wanting to speak before changing his mind with a deeper sigh in his chest. Instead, his hands moved up to your shoulders, toying with the fabric there. “Can I take all of this off you?”

Jon spared no time when you nodded. Draping the material down your arms before undoing the belt holding it to your front. Pooling to your waist and down to the floor with nothing to hold it up. Grey eyes darkening as his jaw clenched looking you over. “Jon?”

Not realizing he was silent for far longer then he realized, his eyes burning into your now bare frame he muttered out with something heavy behind it. “I know these dresses are to make feeding the baby easier, but I didn’t think it meant you wore so little under it all.” Asking hesitantly if that was alright, Jons eyes closed, leaning forward to press his forehead to yours, he nodded against it before finding his voice again as he suddenly turned you in his arms. “Come on.”

Stepping from the pile of your dress on the floor, you were bare as Jon still clothed, led you into the room. The steaming water begging for him to be in it when he turned you back around to face him. No words needed, you knew the routine still. Placing what was left of his clothes carefully to the side before letting his curls down and loose for the night.

Moving passed, Jons hand drifted along your hip before pulling you to the side with him, but Jon climbed in first. Settling his back to the edge as he grabbed your hand, guiding you carefully with his other at your waist. Silently insisting you turn to face him, moving you himself to sit comfortably in his lap as your hands found home resting on his shoulders. Under the water, one of his hands ran along your hip while he other drifted from the depths. Running along to cup your cheek and pull you just a tad closer to his face.

Always needing to adjust to the hot water his preferred, once your lungs could breathe again did you sit up straighter. Reaching for the cloth hanging by the edge only to be stopped by Jon snatching your hand. “Leave it for now.” Brows narrowing mostly in question, Jon did not spare any second longer jumping into what was on his mind. “When I tell you I love you, do you believe me?”

Eyes widened, you barley breathed out a “Pardon?”

Jon did not waver, but he did not look angry or anything close of. Almost with his eyes bright and shining on their own as he repeated with something so soothing. “This isn’t a trick. I need you to tell me the truth, when I tell you I love you, I need to know if you believe I’m being honest.” Only confused and taken back you muttered that of course you did. “I don’t know. If I said it to you right now, would you be able to even hide that worried look on your face you’ve worn for days?”

Heart lurching in your chest, you felt as if you had been a child caught in trouble. “Jon... I don’t..what are you..”

Leaning up, Jon let his hand on your cheek drift back to run through the long strands of your hair. Fingers raking through before settling to pull your head closer to his, nudging his nose against yours gently, keeping you right there. “I have one more question, and this time, I need you to answer yes or no. Am I right for saying you’ve spent the passed few days afraid that I’ve wanted to fuck other women?”

You said nothing, but Jon more firmly prompted that he expected a yes or no. You nodded, but he needed you to say it. You felt your heart and lungs floating with a sickening fear that you were about to be in even more trouble if you lied. “I have.” Asking why, you felt something as if illness come up but instead a cracking whisper of a truth you had tried to hide, only you didn’t expect the unpleasant warmth behind your face to sting your eyes as you said it. “Just because I’m your wife doesn’t mean you have to enjoy me being in your bed.” Jon didn’t say a word, and something stinging you more begun to ramble as if needing to explain yourself. “I gave birth, I don’t look good, I’ve been all over the place, and since we married this had been the longest you haven’t been able to do what you want. Of course I think it would be reasonable you find it somewhere else. Someone better.”

Jons jaw was clenched hard, but he managed to grit out “Why in seven hells would I want someone that isn’t you?” Asking almost confused if he heard what you had just said, Jon pulled you back gently by your hair to make you meet his eyes, now dark and difficult to read. “I did, and there wasn’t a single thing you got right. So I’ll ask you again. Why do you think I’d ever want someone other then you?”

The hands on his shoulders, dug your nails in but had the distinct movement or increase of fidgeting as the nerves ran through you as the stinging in your eyes increased. Shrugging a shoulder, his grip on your hip was tight to keep you straddling his lap in the hot water. “I look worse then I ever have, you couldn’t have sex like you wanted, and even if you did we both know I’m not good at it. I don’t really understand why you would think I would want you to only be with me and be miserable.”

If you could have felt the shattering in Jons heart, it may have also done the same to you. And if you could have been able to feel the few tears already escaping down your cheeks you would’ve understood why he looked at you in something as devastated as it was angry. “When did you start thinking this way?” Apprehensive you simply said the truth, after you had given birth and Jons eyes narrowed even more. “Why would you ever think after you’ve given birth to my child, is when I’d want you less, let alone not want you anymore at all? Do you have a single idea how you make me feel knowing you’re the mother of my child?”

The manner which you bit down on your tongue and shook your head was almost in a childlike innocence. As was the whisper that followed, dripping in an insecurity. “I don’t know why it started now, but I didn’t...I wasn’t blaming you for any of it Jon.”

Were he not handling you so gently in his touch, he may have raised his voice. “You should’ve. If I had been unfaithful to you, I’d want you to blame me. I’d want you to be angry that I’d ever treat you that way. But ever since that night, something in your head’s been lying to you and saying all these things that aren’t true and you’re breaking your own heart by believing them.”

You felt the muscles in your neck almost shivering as you held back that growing feeling in your chest of something too upset to handle, as if you were doused in ice cold water and the intensity of the manner which Jon spoke the truth to you was overwhelming to take in. “I only thought-”

“You thought I didn’t want you anymore, and you were willing to put your well being in danger just to try and convince me to stay. And when that didn’t work, you tricked me into forcing you to go way past your limits that night because you thought thats all you were good for.” He was angry. He was clearly quite angry and you felt those tears falling that time not knowing how to fix it.

But his touch on you was still so confusing, warm and gentle and soothing when his tone, his voice and words were all mad. Yours just a mutter against him, though he heard you perfectly. “I wanted to make you happy, it had been so long...and I know you like-”

Jon was not having it. “What I like, is you. Being with you, sharing myself with you. I don’t fuck you just because I can, I do it because you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to be with. I never had a crush before you, and I never did after or since. You gave birth to my child, I’ve never wanted you more then knowing you and I have a son together, but I was scared of putting you at risk before it was safe. But then you did what you did the other night, and now I’m terrified.”

You knew he was not really expecting you to say anything until he was done, but winding down from the anger, Jon pulled you by the hip closer to his front as he pulled you back down to press a kiss to your forehead, down to your hair and just below your ear as he ran his fingers through the locks gently.

“You cannot do that to me again. You can’t force yourself to do things you don’t want just because you don’t want to make me mad.” Pulling you to look you in the eyes, finally a brightness shined with something just as raw as your current heart. “I’ve only ever loved you, only ever wanted you. You were brought into this world to be with me, and we both had to die before we could get there. So don’t ever put me in that position again. By doing what you did to please me, you just turned me into her.” Your eyes widened, as did your lips part to your now much more erratic heartbeat. “I know something inside you is struggling, but this isn’t the answer. I will get you through this, but you have to promise me you’ll be honest. If you don’t want something you need to tell me. Don’t force yourself to do things like that just for my sake. Ever.”

He was firm, but the anger had dissipated. He was almost commanding you, but he didn’t bombard you aggressively about it. His eyes looked as upset as yours did about it, but the touch of his hands against you was still somehow so gentle and so loving. Your voice barley muttering out, “I’m so sorry.”

Nudging your nose with his, Jon hesitated. But in your clearing mind you recognized it as him asking if you were alright with it, and you gave a single nod before he gently captured your lips in a kiss. Pulling you down and more close to his front, Jon kept you in his chaste kiss deeply and long before not even parting far enough that you still felt his lips brushing yours as he spoke. “Don’t be sorry, darling. I only need you to be honest with me. We’ll get you passed this feeling, but you need to let me help you.”

That time, you closed the gap and Jon sat up straighter. His arms coming up to wrap more around your back and up your spine as yours came more over his shoulders. His lips soft against yours, and he deepened it each single chance you had of breathe. Moving to tilt your head himself, Jon held you against him tighter as a small sound of need came from you. Only pulling away enough to rasp against your gasping lips, “Why did you tell me you were completely healed?”

He refused to let you leave, pressing his lips once more in a harsh kiss and giving little room for you to explain yourself. Which for once, you did genuinely as the feeling tingling against your own lips from his had your buzzing heart beg for more. “I wanted to make it up to you for the other night. I wanted to set things right.” All but in a demanding fashion he asked if you were being honest with him. “I am, I promise. I know it’s hard to believe me now, but I miss you too, Jon..I miss being with you.”

“Did you only want to do this earlier for my sake?” You nodded. “So why should I believe you changed your mind now?”

Backing from his lips, did a flustering feeling begin to grow. You didn’t really know how to say it, but something about how rough his kiss was, now he nibbled at your lips more roughly then he seemed to sense had awoken something inside you that begged for him to stay close. Looking partially down to most of his lower torso and all his bottom half hidden under the waters, you bit your tongue again.

How did women ever do this as a living? Talk this way to men day and night?

Instead you grasped the hand behind at your spine. Pulling it between you, raising it enough to press a kiss to his hand before gently uncurling the tense fingertips free. “Maybe you shouldn’t blindly trust me..” Trailing off, your eyes bright looked at him with an unasked question. Tilting his head, Jons jaw clenched as he exhaled again.

Pressing the hand now against your stomach, down until it was hidden under the water not yet breached beyond to anything indecent, but you certainly both knew you felt his cock twitch between you, and his grey eyes seep into something darker. Dragging them down what of your figure he could see and back up. Running his other hand free along your cheek and jaw. “Promise me you want this.”

“I want this, I want you. I promise.”

The second two of his fingers slid down, he found your clit with ease, pressing them against it as a spark flew between your legs into your heart and back. Eyes watching so close to yours, telling you silently not to look away from him. An experimental rub against your clit had to nearly jump with a gasp into his arms more, but Jon embraced it. Pulling you against him before threading his fingers through your hair and turning to rasp roughly into your ear as he found a pattern of tight circles to rub into your overwhelmingly sensitive bundle of nerves. “Gods, you’re still this sensitive..”

Almost in wonder, and it was certainly true. Something powerful had overtaken you when you were with child, but you felt so utterly worked up as your hands tightened around his shoulders as he kept your face tucked in his neck enough he could growl in your ear. The pressure of his fingers at your clit drawing such easy cries, but when such a pattern you got used too, he changed it to something new and worked you up all the way over again without ever committing to one.

Desperately grasping at him, did you feel lightheaded as your core burned and twisted each time he ran his touch over your clit in a new way. “Jon I-” Muttering to let go, you hid in him more as Jon instead yanked your head away enough he pulled you lips to kiss.

Biting down at the same time his touch on your clit grew rougher, your gasp gave him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Brushing along yours, and your moan gifted into his mouth had him rub tighter and rougher just to be gifted more sounds. Had he given you air, you’d beg his name but he kept you at bay with his kiss. Surrendering to him as you could barley explore him back before Jon took charge. Kissing you deeper each time his fingers on your clit went rougher.

The coil inside you twisting and each pass growing white hot until you felt yourself let go. But refusing to let you away from his kiss, you moaned desperately against his mouth. A hot wave of pleasure soaking into your blood stream and vibrating through your entire body, you shook as it made you nearly lightheaded. Hips almost writhing to the touch while you felt his cock harden completely between you, and his grasp at your hair grow tighter.

Before you even could come down from your sudden orgasm, Jon yanked you from his kiss and tilted you to look in his eyes. The same instance, did he slide those same two fingers down and he certainly knew the difference even in such warm water. Tilting his head almost exhaling through gritting teeth at what he found, Jon did not do it until you nodded. But the second you did, Jon slid those same two fingers deep inside of you as that time you cried out loud into the air. But you had nowhere to hide amongst such a feeling.

Shaking, he dragged them along such a sensitive wall already you begged his name but with heavy eyes he refused to let you break eye contact. Your mouth parting open, but with no words Jon spoke roughly for you. “If it’s too much,” Shaking your head desperately no, he insisted. “No, if this gets to be too much, darling-”

Fingers entangling in his thick curls, you had little breath to even speak through as he steadily slid those fingers in and out of you, as each drag you felt yourself grow that much more wet. “It’s not please don’t stop, please..” Increasing the pace, your insides were so tight as well as you new the water hid how much you had begun to grace him with your own wetness. Jons cock throbbing feeling how soaked you kept growing inside, but almost not even as worked up as he felt watching the pure beg in your eyes relying on him for you.

He hadn’t even taken you and already he felt out of his mind.

A slow pace but every push of his fingers deep inside you did it have your nails digging into his shoulders, head dropping down with a cry wanting to move with him but needing to just trust him. Jon muttered your name, stern and commanding. Gaze rising back up and you could read the look on his face without any question. You were not allowed to look away.

Mouth dropping as a moan was silent coming through, your thighs shaking around him as the feeling warm inside you grew hotter and hotter and Jons eyes were so dark and so much of his expression was stern and unblinking you felt another wave of pleasure burn as he dragged against you each slow steady push and pull. Eyes hooded trying to stay on his lap straight enough you wouldn’t look away, but it was almost a fight as his eyes on you so intently as he thrusted his fingers deep inside of you was too much to handle. “Jon..”

Pulling you to meet his lips, only short and chaste as he murmured against them as he moved faster and faster to your crying end. “Do you want to do this here, or on our bed?” The quickness you nearly begged to do it here was far more of an indicator of how genuinely you wanted him them before, as if you’d let tears fall should he stop now. “Alright, one more. Give me one more first.”

Hurling you towards an end there was only a twisting in your gut before it snapped. Jons other hand rose up to grasp the back of your neck, forcing your eyes up to meet his gaze as you came. Never stopping, but a slow decrease in his pace as he guided you through it. Pulling out you whimpered, but it only made his cock throb between you.

Grasping both sides of your face, Jon pulled you back to his lips roughly, your hands wrapped around his shoulders and back before he tore away from you with a heaving breath and gritted teeth. “I’m going to ask you one more time, are you sure you want this? We can wait however long you need-”

Shaking your head you almost moved to perch more in his lap with a gentle beg. “No, I want this, I promise.” Almost as if watching for lies, this time you felt none within you and hoped Jon could see the same. If judging by the clench in his jaw or the way his hands were tight as he guided your hips, he was desperately hoping you were being honest with him. He had made it clear, lying to him about the other night was one thing, but lying about this would be far worse.

The fog in your head was so confusing, but the more you felt his rough touch bruising already into your skin, the way water ran from you down hitting the scars on his chest and down to where his cock was impressively hard, you felt as if the fog had been burned away each time he guided you to your end. But you didn’t want to lie about this, and what you knew was true was how much you could feel your wetness building as your eyes trailed down once more.

Hands perched on his shoulders, chest visibly breathing harshly as you considered it. Your first time, you didn’t have to think about it. Robb refused you to look to until he had you worked up right to the point you would nearly beg for what you had yet to even have. He was rough and incredibly dominating about it and it worked for your vastly more unsure mind to let him control it all.

With Jon, it was very similar but overwhelming in such a vast new array of burning need. He had kissed you and all you could do was hand yourself over to however he wanted as if that was why you were born into the world. He had slid deep inside of you before you could think about it. The first time you had actually seen his cock, he had twisted to lay you out on the ground to take you a second time. It had been difficult to be intimidated by what you already had seconds before.

But now? It felt nothing like that. You could see all of him, how he somehow looked even longer then normal, considering it was not as if what was already there wasn’t intimidating. But gods protect you, the weeks passed and you were not sure how you had ever taken his size before. Muttering your name roughly, your eyes peeked up to his as he rasped out, “Talk to me.”

Biting your lip as your eyes fluttered shut to collect yourself, you were distinctly worked up considering you had not noticed the truly pure and innocent way you had said it. “I just..you’re somehow..bigger then I remembered..”

Jons eyes few shut as he exhaled a rough warning of your name. Meeting your eyes only to find you truly meant it without any other implication or tease, you were just intimidated by how thick his cock truly was. His voice was nearly a growl as he ran his hand behind your head through your hair. “You’ve taken all of me before, darling. Many times.”

Gods it truly felt like you were an innocent maiden all over again. The thought of taking him something that seemed so daunting and yet the deeper part of you knew that he felt so good inside of you. Prompting you as he nudged your nose gently with his, a more subtle sounding command. “Wrap your hand around me. Just like that.” His muscles tensing and releasing almost a shiver as you did so, not even able to hold all of him in your hand he was so thick. “You can tell me to stop at any time. I’ll guide you, you guide me, alright?”

He accepted your nod that time, your breath trapped in your lungs the moment you felt the tip of his cock slip inside of you. Holding you in place, you shook your head with something clawing in your voice for him. “I just..could we go slow?”

In truth, Jon almost laughed, he would have smiled gently at least were he not so focused on paying attention. Needing to see the very moment you may try to hide if you were genuinely uncomfortable from him. His voice barley a husk beyond his accent slurring thick at the feeling already. “We are, I promise. Do you want to keep going?”

A genuine ask, and again your wordless nod was taken for now. Inch by inch did you sink down onto him, your hands now both grasping at his shoulders. Face tight in half a wince and begging to cry out, you soaked his cock the deeper you sank, making it easier for his thickness to slide into you. There was not no resistance though. Jons hands on your hips were tighter then he’d ever held you there, to him, this was almost cruel. You weren’t even this tight around him your first night together. It was as if the time you took to heal had given you your maidenhood back.

This was the sort of warm, soaking tightness around his cock that he’d be desperate to pound inside of you with to surpass. But he took it slow, the only harsh treatment being the bruises on your hips. The tear in your throat barley letting a meek whine leave, but as soon as you were fully sat on him, his entire length throbbing inside of you did your head drop with a much more desperate moan, unable to leave his shoulder, your hands held to his shoulders and the black curls now dancing along your bare skin. That time, the small beg was certainly you, and there was not a hint of how unsure you had been mere seconds ago. “Please, Jon, please..I want to feel you so much..”

Wrapping one arm up around your neck and keeping you hidden in his neck gripping your hair, Jons eyes fluttered shut at how your walls still somehow clenched tightly around him more. “You have me..you have me right here. All of me, I promise.” You nodded, and he seemed to take that for what he needed, free hand grasping at your hip again, just barley moving. Murmuring in your ear, “Come on, darling..”

Finally moving along with the slow pull of his cock barley out of you, but meeting his thrust deep back inside as you lowered yourself to meet him. Nails digging tightly into him as you gasped, the stretch something genuinely painful and yet as your hips followed his again, and again, you almost felt delirious thinking he may stop. His cock dragged along your walls, drawing pleasure from deep within your core to burn out like a star and flood your veins with nothing but a beg for him. As his other hand moved to your other hip, you nearly didn’t have to do any work.

Such shallow thrusts in and out so deep inside of you, Jon also moved your hips to follow in perfect harmony as your name growled from his mouth. Lips finding his neck, not even sinking your teeth into his skin on purpose, but each slow thrust filling you over and over with something so bright and perfect you felt things lose any meaning that was not existing for him for exactly this.

The gentle sloshing of the hot water between you was nothing to his warmth so close to your bare skin, and yet you cried more into his neck. Held the back of his neck and hair even tighter as you clenched around him each slow sink back inside. Your grip around him tightened, and as he thrusted a little rougher back inside of you, did you find yourself moving without him to meet that heavily feeling together. Jons own arms wrapped more around your back, one tightening in your hair as you both sat up more pressed against the other.

Each time he slid back up inside of you, did you sink down to meet faster as if you existed for him, as if all you suddenly knew was the sparks of something burning you alive as Jon filled you over and over that had you desperate to feel his every inch stretching your walls. Growls and grunts deep in Jons chest vibrated through your front and down between your legs as you cried out like a siren in his ear meant to tempt him into a world of sin, and each time he thrusted rougher inside of your cunt did he decide falling for that trap was worth it.

Faster he moved and faster did you meet his thrusts that water splashed across your skin and splattered down onto the floor without a single care. Jon almost sat back a bit more, keeping you laid on his front at more of an angle as he grasped at both of your hips, refusing you to even leave his cock as much as he had been doing himself before. Slowing you down, one hand of yours holding steady at his waist, the other pressed along his chest as you once again hid in his neck.

Not for a single second did he stop, or wait for drag a moment out too long. The motions of him dragging you up and down his cock were more as waves then any waters you had sailed in your entire life, the waves moving together deep inside your cunt creating such a heavy haze in your head that you didn’t know any words which were not mindless begging of his name.

His rasp was nearly a death sentence in your ear, husking out so roughly you almost couldn’t understand him, but his hands were tight just as his breathing turned heavy. “I’m close, darling, tell me what you need.” But you held onto him tighter, a high pitched cry invaded your speech as you pleaded nothing, you needed him without any other specifications. But you truly didn’t, soaking around him you felt Jons cock thick and throbbing inside of you and that hot coil twisting in your spun out out control and you nearly fell into his firm front with nothing but his name clawing from your singing cries.

Rough thrusts far more pounding did Jon fuck up into you, once, twice nearing six times. Each rougher thrust of his cock he still moved you with him, clenching and cumming around him before finally all which left him was a grunt, bleeding into a growl of words not even you could catch. Forcing your cunt to take his every inch, did Jon throb inside of you before finally he came. Thick, hot spurts of his seed spilled inside of you as you fell into his neck as much as Jon wrapped one hand around to your hair, turning you enough to hide his growling need in your hair as he filled you again and again. As if in the weeks he hadn’t had you, it was as spilling inside of you at once. Never did he stop moving your hips as he filled you, and only did you both slow to a stop as every bit of his seed had nowhere to go but stay inside you the way you both wanted.

It was a good while he kept you there, on top of his cock just like that as your breathing both heaved before, Jon sat up. Guiding you with him, he cupped your cheek as both your needing heavy set eyes looked to the other just as ruined too. Rasping out so low and so thick accented it made you clench around him again. “If I tell you I love you now, are you going to believe me?”

And somehow still, your nod was almost innocent as was your voice. “I do, I promise.” Meeting your lips with his, it was deep and with a sloppiness neither of you cared to correct did he keep you sat deep on his cock in the water as your hearts both calmed down.

Slowly did Jon eventually take his time lifting you off of him, standing you both up in the water but neither of you were fooled by the fact that as soon as he could watch the water now run down your bare frame, did once again his already half hard cock grow more and more. The grey in his eyes had hardly been visible for long by the time you met them, and watched the black take over with a lust one not you, could mistaken for anger.

But once your feet hit the floor, Jons hands careful with you, murmuring in your ear he pulled you into his side to guide you to where water was not a hazard. “Careful now, come on.” Looking you over, Jon grasped the side of your jaw to tilt you up to meet his eyeline before he leaned down to once more kiss you.

Life was cruel sometimes though, and just as you could feel his breath hot on your skin did a knock at the door call from a guard to Jons attention. You were fairly certain were he a man in less control, he might have yelled for them to fuck off at that point. Instead, he looked you over once more before moving passed you. “Stay there.”

Returning to you, Jon had gone to where you took his clothes off, yanked on his breeches barley managing to find the patience to tie the laces enough to keep them up, barley concealing how desperately hard he was. But this time, Jon muttered for you to raise your arms for him. Pulling something very soft over your front, you could feel it sit just low enough that it would cover your front but truly nothing to hide your ass.

Looking down to the light grey, you felt something almost warm in your cheeks realizing Jon had simply put you in his shirt. Guiding you to the main room, the door knocked again and Jon kissed the spot below your ear before giving you a push. “Lay down for me, I’ll be right there.”

Truthfully you nodded in a daze, sitting back against the fur on his bed before laying out, one knee bending naturally to put your foot flat on the soft surface. A hand over top your head against where your hair splayed out wet against a pillow, the other resting comfortably against your stomach over his shirt. Your eyes closed, trying to breath deeply to will your heart to come down, but refused as the feeling of pain between your legs was finally one you recognized as shamelessly addicting.

Who was even a the door, or what they wanted was utterly lost on you. Your mind unaware of any passage of time as the fog had been replaced with both a clarity and yet a haze of need dominated by Jons very existence. By the time he had returned to you, already taken everything back off of him, Jon crawled up onto the bed. Nudging your inner thigh wider almost in the manner Ghost would bump someone out of his way gently before meeting you. Hands braced at both sides of your waist Jon leaned down to finally finish the job, capturing your lips greedily. Biting down to make you let his tongue slip inside once more as he pulled your legs apart kneeling before you. Trailing down to your neck, Jon muttered, “I need to taste you..”

It wasn’t an ask, or a request. Jons need was very heavy between you as he skipped passed what of your skin was now hidden by his shirt. Grasping your leg around your calf to steady, Jon slowly pressed his lips from where he met just there. Lips along your calf before widening you leg more and more, giving him access to run his lips long your inner thigh. Keeping you wide on one side, Jon slunk down to do exactly the same with the other, but instead placing that thigh hooked over his shoulder.

In truth he cared not about slowly working you up this time, fuelled by something desperate Jon pulled your other thigh up to sink his mouth down to your cunt. His tongue fat and wide as he licked along your soaking folds, groaning shamelessly as he sunk his tongue deep inside of you. Your back arched up in a high needy cry but Jons hands always kept you in place.

Licking and tasting you as if he was a man dying of thirst, and you were the offering from the gods sent to save his life. That was the utterly greedy manner in which he ran his mouth and tongue over your soaking folds. He drank what you gifted him with a purposeful sloppiness as if you were a meal and your cries only spurned him on more.

His facial hair scratching raw against your inner thighs, but your hand grasping gently in his hair pulled a growl more. Soaking you as much as you soaked him, Jon did not waste any of it. Running his tongue again flat along all of you before sinking back up and pulling every bit of a moan and cry out of you, in the form of what you could coat his tongue with.

You truly were hurled into an orgasm before you knew it was coming, but Jon spread your other leg wide as you did so, keeping you posed for him perfect as he grunted into you to drink all of your wetness as if you only could do so for him. Which by this point, you felt as if you might have.

Only pulling away as your hips jolted from such direct pleasure, Jon muttered into your soaked cunt with as much need as he tasted you with. “I want you one more time, darling. Will you let me have you?”

Truly your only answer was that of a breathless beg, “Jon, please...”

Surging upward, Jon pulled you by the back of your head up to meet his lips, not asking permission to slip his tongue deep into your mouth and make you taste what you had caused him to be a desperate animal of an addict for. As your arms wrapped around his neck. Jon hitched your thigh up to his hip and pulled your other back wide. Barley tearing from your lips to meet your eyes as Jon sunk inside of you that time still just as unbelievably tight around him but much more smooth as you took every inch as deep as you could. One single thrust Jon gave before he slid almost all the way out, leaving just the leaking tip of his cock inside before another smooth thrust back as deep.

That time, Jon kept your eyes each moment. Pulling out slowly so you felt his every inch thick drag along your sensitive, soaking walls but did not ever waver in keeping your eyes. A burning in your face of how embarrassed it felt that he watched your every moan and cry of his cock thrusting in and out of you, but he didn’t feel that way back. His eyes still dark, and his face almost unchanging in how serious they looked down to you as if he could not afford to miss a second of it.

His voice was rough, the rasp forming into an alluring, seducing husk drenched in an animalistic need as he groaned over himself pushing deep inside, his hand pulling your other leg even wider to sink somehow deeper, even faster. “I’ll never want anyone else, you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.”

Almost a ramble but he kept your eyes, your own lips parted in a cry but small breathless sounds could not drown out how gruff he spoke to you still without needing any reply. “Don’t ever think I’d get this from anyone else, it’s you. Only you.” Closing his eyes through a growling groan in his chest he moved a bit faster, perhaps a hair touch rougher but certainly faster as he looked down at your near innocent wide eyes, relying on only him to get you there again. “You belong to me, you always have, you always will. Nothing can change that, I won’t let it.”

Faster and faster he fucked you, so smooth inside your tight walls soaking him enough he almost wanted to stop talking just to make you hear how thrusting deep into your cunt, you could hear how wet you were. “I never thought..I’m sorry..” Your hands grasping around his shoulders and waist, or smoothing along his scarred chest like it was home but you moved as much with him as you could from his strength keeping you pinned to the bed.

Neither of you even truly knew if Jon was aware of what he was saying the closer he dragged you to your burning end as much as his cock could throb inside of you. “I love you, more then anything in this bloody world I love you, don’t you dare forget that.” Nearly growling out the last as if a command you nodded as you arched up into his touch, your core burning in need begging his name as he followed suit with yours. Dropping his forehead to yours as he fucked you faster and faster, the sound of his hips against yours finally filling the room. Skin slapping against skin in a way that made him go even faster to keep the sound in his hearing over his voice calling your name sternly. “Tell me you understand, that you’ll never doubt this again. Never.”

Nodding, you begged his name almost too sweetly for how much he was fucking you deep on the furs of his bed. “I promise, Jon, never. Please, I love you so much..”

Capturing your lips, Jon pulled back to look you in the eye, his voice much more soothing. Feeling your end crash closer and closer. “I’m sorry darling, but you’ll never love me as much as I do you. It’s impossible..you have me addicted..obsessed with you so much you make me mad.”

Guiding you to your end, you merely begged his name trying to move with him as much as you could against his strength forcing your hips to just take him as he smoothly gave. “Jon, I want..please cum inside me.”

Jon barley reacted as his eyes were wide and dark as you clenched around his cock. Your core bursting as if a star in the sky exploding into a shimmering green, but he never let you look away. His cock pushing deep in and out of you as each wave of your orgasm had you grasping at him with tears forming overwhelmed in your eyes.

Grasping the leg by his hip, Jon pushed it up against your chest as much as he could stretch you, the other grasping your free leg, and letting it on his other side take it’s place on his hip. Keeping you balanced so relying on him as Jon groaned as he finally followed. Once more spilling inside of you as if you were born for this.

Collapsing on top of you, you wrapped your arms around his back and shoulders, bit never did his hips stop. He kept thrusting inside of you, capturing your lips desperately with his, muttering things possessive and bewitched in need as he filled you. At some point your eyes slipped closed, and Jon had yet to pull out of you, and his cock had yet to reach it’s filling need of your cunt.

Jon fucked you deeply far later into the night then he wanted to admit, but he refused to cum each time until he pulled your sleeping self along with him. By the time sleep found him too, he still hadn’t pulled out. Only turning you to hide in his front, his cock inside you soaked with your wetness and his cum, but his muscles still finally relaxed for the first time in weeks.

He knew tonight wouldn’t fix the darkness wrong in your head, but it was a step.

[matan4il]

To the Nonnie who sent me an ask in relation to Standing Together (Tumblr is being weird and swallowed your message, but I saw it), here is the vid you linked:

-> Okay, first, a rough translation of the Hebrew comment exchange featured in the vid:

Rula: Really, Muhammad? Children died today. Women. Displaced people. Not a word about 210 Palestinians who died during a rescue operation? We already have one Yuseph Haddad.

Muhammad: Really, Rula? 210 children and women died today? Unarmed? Only children and women? And if we're dealing with civilians... Not a word from you about the fact that hostages were held in the homes of civilians, by civilians? Don't lecture me.

Rula: Oy, you've completely lost it. Shame.

-> I'm not sure Standing Together is the biggest Jewish-Arab organization in Israel. Before Oct 7, it claimed to have reached a peak of 5,000 members, which out of a population of almost 10 million people is pretty negligible. And when practically every organization in Israel has both Jews and Arabs, including the freaking Israeli parliament (the Knesset), it just feels... weird to think there's nothing bigger than that. Then again, maybe when we talk specifically about an organization claiming to be political and to be serving the idea of Jewish-Arab solidarity, there isn't one with more registered members. Maybe.

But for example, the vid mentions an Israeli Arab activist called Yuseph Haddad, who's the CEO of an organization called "Together - Vouch for each other" (it corresponds with Jewish tradition, as the Hebrew word choice specifically echoes the Jewish phrase, "Kol Yisrael arevim ze la'ze" - all of Israel vouch for each other), which I know has both Jewish and Arab volunteers, though it puts Arabs at the forefront. IDK how many volunteers it has, but Haddad is actually one of the most beloved activists in Israel, people recognize him everywhere, he gets his own impression on Israel's most popular satire shows (performed by one of the show's Arab cast members, who's also one of Israel's most loved and recognized comedians), he got the honor of lighting one of the torches at Israel's Independence Day torches ceremony (seriously one of the greatest honor here), and I've seen some of his work with the next generation of Israeli Arabs. I also know that "Together" has worked with Yad Vashem to make educational content about the Holocaust more accessible for Arabic speakers. I find it hard to believe "Together" has less volunteers than ST does, but I don't have official numbers on them. Still, it's probably wise to keep in mind that ST's numbers are self reported.

-> BTW, this is also a response to a lovely Nonnie asking me what alternatives there are to Standing Together. "Together" has the mission of better connecting Arabs to Israeli society. They don't look away from criticizing Israel when it's needed, they do talk about where the state needs to do better, but on the basic level, they do talk about loving and embracing Israel. The way Haddad explains it, the recognition hit him when he was at the age to decide whether to volunteer for an IDF service or not, that the enemies of Israel are willing to kill Israeli Arabs in order to get to Israeli Jews, while the army is defined as the Israel Defense Forces, not Jews' Defense Forces, that it protects all Israeli civilians, and from there his connection was born and grew, and he tries to pass it on to other Israeli Arabs, and uplift and empower those who already feel it. He won't tell you there aren't issues or racism in Israel, but he does seem to believe that a cornerstone in overcoming those, is to build on the sense of shared fate we have here. "Together" isn't the only organization working in this direction, there are many more, working in various ways, but I don't think there's another that's as recognized, respected and liked by general Israeli society)

-> To the Nonnie who asked me about "A Land for All," I'm not sure if I'm the right person to answer this question, because I know one of the founding members of this movement in real life. He's a very nice person, honestly. He's a religious settler, born into that society, where most people are right wing, and are seen as violent, racist and extremist. I think painting any sector of society with a wide brush gets things wrong. The man I know certainly is none of those things, and from what he says and how I know him, he hated being seen that way, he wanted to break away from that perception of settlers. At the same time, he does love the place where he was born, he doesn't want those Jewish communities uprooted, and he also recognizes that Jews do deserve a state of their own (as well as Palestinians). "A Land for All - Two states, one homeland" was born from this duality. It's the idea that there will be two states, Jewish and Palestinian, that will exist by each other, but they'll both be a part of one confederation (one homeland), which will allow open borders for everyone within this union. So you seemingly don't deprive either side of self-determination, while still allowing Jews to live in the Judea and Samaria settlements, that current two state solutions would uproot, or return to Gaza, or move into any part of Hevron they'd like to (currently, Jews are only allowed to live and to access about 3% of one of our 4 holiest cities), while giving Arabs the right to live inside Israel if they so choose, anywhere they want to.

I think it's a nice idea, from very well meaning people, who are actually really thrilled at the notion that maybe ironically, peace between Jews and Arabs will originate with the settlers, of all people. I still have questions and doubts. First, because I've noticed different members of ALFA have different takes on some practical questions. Some say the settlers will be Israeli citizens living on Palestinian soil within this one confederation, others say they would be Jews with Palestinian citizenship. Either option raises more questions. Who will protect these Jews living among Palestinians? If they're Israeli citizens, the responsibility would be on Israeli security forces, would they be allowed to operate freely on Palestinian soil? If they're Palestinian citizens, can the Palestinian forces be trusted with the security of these Jews? Past experience suggests... no. Before there was a State of Israel, Jews living among Arabs were attacked and killed simply for being Jewish. No one came to their aid. And when Israel in the 1990's helped set up the Palestinian security forces that serve the Palestinian Authority, some of the weapons and training Israel provided as part of a peace process which was giving the Palestinians self-rule for the first time ever, ended up being turned against Israeli Jews, used against us in terrorist attacks. But even the mere question itself leads to another one, because if we're back to asking "Will non-Jewish authorities protect their Jewish minority," then where is the self-determination we've fought so hard for, the right to protect ourselves, shape our own fate, instead of forever being dependent on the good will of non-Jews...?

You can surely think of similar questions about what would happen with Palestinians living on Israeli soil, what would their citizenship be, and what would happen if they use this freedom of access to attack Israeli Jews? And how about that confederation, how would it work? What would be its joint authority over Israeli and Palestinian citizens vs the autonomy of each state? And how would the power be divided between Jews and Arabs in representation within the joint ruling system, will it be equal no matter what the demographics become over time (making it unrepresentative, some might argue undemocratic) or will it make each side's power relative to its population size, turning one side in reality into a minority, and therefore vulnerable to the power of the other side?

My first reaction was to like the idea enough, that I started thinking about it in practical terms, and got to many of these questions, and I haven't gotten good enough practical answers from ALFA members, sometimes I didn't even get consistent answers (telling me this initiative has not been serious enough, to sit down and iron out all of the differences of view their members have on practical (not ideological!) matters. So yeah, I just... can't really join the movement, even though a part of me still likes this notion, which allows me, as a Jew, full access to every part of my ancestral homeland, not just... to the sections that haven't been occupied by Arab forces in 1948, and ethnically cleansed at that time (like East Jerusalem), or before (like Gaza and Hevron).

On top of that, when I look at who ALFA collaborates with, we're back to sketchy partners, many talk about Jewish-Arab solidarity, but don't really implement it in a way that's fair to Israelis and Jews, such as ST. Or another thing that made me groan is that I saw ALFA celebrate a column by Thomas Friedman which supported them, that's fair enough and natural enough, except they included in their celebration the part of his column calling for a unilateral recognition of the Palestinian state, something that's an anti-peace move in itself, and in this context, I sincerely don't get how this move would help promote this solution, if the Palestinians will get a state anyway, without agreeing to it existing as a part of such a confederation...

This is my perspective,

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[thisisnotthenerd]

misfits & magic ii stat tracking: episode 7

the spreadsheet, for all to see

a lot happened in this one. good conversations. lots of intense magic. lots of cool interactions with the world and what it means. i'm glad to have this to watch right now.

we're past the halfway point, and it feels like they've found most of the clues; they just have to put them together and then make their way to gowpenny.

from the previews, it seems like they're talking to tad next week and heading back to galamanis to face the hellbender. can't wait to see where it goes.

as always, the tag is #mismag ii stat tracking if you want to follow along.

mechanical notes:

magic can be stored in a person, given the time and will to accumulate it. this can be accelerated, as k chose to, though it has significant effects on the appearance and perhaps the physiology.

magic interactions with tabby cause it to take on enhanced sapience by mirroring behavior as specifically as possible. it has some capability of telepathy / mind-reading on those it has specific bonds with.

much of the magic of the world is ancient and holds true to ancient language and principles; given time and logic, it can be understood. there is a way to make something now of the very, very old.

island/creature tracking:

galamanis, the blind hellbender salamander of creation magic, feeds into the chaos. things can be drawn from the ether, but manipulating the things that already exist is more difficult.

qohlye, the winged goat of divination. truth and all that it means, opening the eyes of the viewer to the world in all of its potential. but the things that exist there do not always want to leave.

seegenpelater, the double headed camel of enchantment. can convince the mind of anything and the body with it. but the doing of magic takes a great price, of destruction and violence, and the island will gild the edges so it does not feel as though the world has changed.

weugan, the inverted wolf of amplification. symbols that speak to the increase of extant energy, matter and system. home to st. dotto's. patron of the magic of stories and mythology, of the magic brought from the ordinary made extraordinary. the condensed amplification of magic bleeding across deadened ground.

tadeshacourt, the skull antlered bear of defense, whose symbols and warnings speak to the waning of magic where weugan's symbols mark the waxing. who warns of the necessary fear of the capabilities of magic and draws away from that which exists. protection of the self and others, of mind and body and soul.

the bat with a fish for a tail that they have not yet found, the magic of transmutation, of changing and altering that which is objective truth.

and the as of yet unnamed void serpent who surrounds these pillars of magic in the storm.

character profiles:

whitney jammer:

items: wand (sporty), familiar (spalding), broom, magic sock of tracking, band-aid

motive: teamwork (+1) 2nd Progression

injuries: major + minor none

melee: d10 (+1)

mind: d6 (+1)

magnetism: d6

maneuver: d12 (+2)

matter: d20 (+1)

mettle: d10 (+1)

mark*: d20 (+1)

magic: d8 (3rd progression)

k tanaka:

items: familiar (teddy), broom, pince-nez of truth, mirror of the beheld, self-contained server of amplification

motive: network (+2)

injures: major + minor (2) none

melee: d6 (+1)

mind: d12 (+1)

magnetism: d12 (+1)

maneuver: d10 (+1)

matter: d4 (+2)

mettle: d20 (+2)

mark: d4 (+1)

magic: d20 (3rd progression)

sam britain:

items: wand (mirror), familiar (terminator 2), broom, hoopty keys

motive: community (0) 2nd Progression

injuries: major + minor (3) none

melee: d8 (+1)

mind*: d4 (+1)

magnetism: d20 (+3)

maneuver: d20

matter: d4 (+1)

mettle: d12

mark: d6

magic: d12 (2nd progression)

evan kelmp:

items: familiar (shadow), broom (pushbroom), backpack of holding, wingtip shoes, tome of nimble workings, wrench of fixing, torch of shadows

motive: belonging (0) 2nd Progression

injuries: major + minor (2) none

melee: d20 (+8)

mind: d20 (+2)

magnetism: d4

maneuver: d6

matter: d6 (+1)

mettle: d10

mark: d8

magic: d8 (3rd progression)

[vegaseatsass]

Rewatched My Stand-In eps 2 and 3 tonight, and I'm definitely newly fascinated with Ming POV/Ming's internal concept of what was happening between him and Joe that entire time. I forgot just how much we got of Ming's home life and family in episode 2, and my brain is abuzz trying to connect all the dots. His relationship with May is so interesting. She clocks that he and Joe are together on Christmas, and is immediately careful to conceal it not just from their parents but from Tong. May and Ming have this "us against the world" vibe where they protect and cover for each other, going back to May giving herself pneumonia saving Ming from drowning. I absolutely believe there's more going on in their family than mom pressuring Ming to marry women any time he goes home - I actually suspect things about his family are being obscured for future painful reveals - but May is a safe space for him. Until Tong is added into the picture, and Ming has to flee the country for four years to get away from his big feelings. It's just kind of bonkers to me that he had this intense, safe and presumably very grounding relationship with his sister, but made his obsession with a random movie star the centerpiece of his world instead. Why did he imprint on Tong? Is it really just Joe's sexy back muscles that drew him in? Did he think if he could land a famous movie star his parents would accept him being with a man? Was it subconscious self-sabotage of his only safe relationship lol? I genuinely have no idea!! What I am stuck on though is when he told May he was working through something, and would tell her when he was ready, but he promised he'd get through it. On rewatch, it seems very obvious that what he's talking about is the torch he's carrying for Tong, so to me that's a reveal that he's deliberately trying to move on with Joe - not using him as a sex doll replacement, but throwing himself into something real. (What's messy obviously is that Ming started this for the proxyfucking, but I think overhearing Joe confess his love for Ming to Sol is when Ming started making a determined effort to choose Joe.) There's also his reaction to Joe's Christmas gift where the watch becomes a metaphor for Joe himself (vs. Tong): Ming doesn't need the "top" one, why can't he want the "normal" one?

The first time I was watching this, I assumed that Ming just has no internal awareness of how important Joe is to him, he just feels pure need and acts very very normal when his emotional support stand-in is ripped away. I assumed Ming believes he's in love with Tong and thinks he's just passing some time with Joe. It doesn't help that every time Joe presses him on anything emotional Ming shuts him down or outright negs him lolllll

But like for example, in the scene where they're shopping together and Joe gets excited about the couple mugs, first Ming snaps "What makes you think we're a couple?", then he tries to mitigate his slip by playing it off: "after living with me, you'll realize you don't want me as a boyfriend." His kneejerk impulse to shut Joe down and say cruel things is imo a defense mechanism, a really maladaptive one that helps convince Joe later on that there was never any love there, but I'm starting to think it's triggered in response to actually wanting the intimacy and primacy that Joe is pushing for, and being terrified of that.

It would make so much sense for somebody who is terrified of needing anybody else, of being vulnerable or feeling anything real, to decide they're in love with a complete asshole movie star who uses their family for money and them personally for favors, and shape their life around that. Especially now that I understand how young Ming was when he first fixated on Tong (17ish??), I just feel like that entire imprinting is your classic teenager-who-is-not-ready-to-be-in-a-real-relationship parasocial spiral. I used to do it with male celebrities too!!! (I am a lesbian. lmfaooo)

It's interesting because while there's something conceptually romantic about the back Ming first got obsessed with being Joe's all along, it ultimately doesn't really matter to me WHO the onscreen person that he fixated upon was. What matters is how ill-equipped Ming has proven to handle real feelings for a real person in front of him, and the journey he has from here to learn how to human. I can't wait. P.S. Other thing I forgot happened in episode 2: - Ming made drunk!Joe sleep on the floor of Joe's own home - BEFORE Ming moved in or had any claim to the space - AFTER Ming told Sol he would take "really really good care of Joe" as a way of trying to claim Joe in front of the competition His journey to human is going to be a loooooooooooooooooong one, methinks... 😈

[pumpkinpot]

Late night: Astarion

.

There was something about nighttime now. It was a peace Astarion wasn't familiar with. Chatter fell with the sun and the worries of the day seemed to press between the pages of an unfinished chapter, idle until morning.

The adjustment was violent to say the least. Astarion battled with himself for weeks upon integration into the party. Ink took to the sky and his mind broke into verse.

Should he loot everyone's bags for valuables? Now would be a perfect time to travel, find other camps and loot their bags or take a little bite of heavy sleepers.

Other people's willingness to trust the darkness was his best defense against their better judgement.

Here was annoyingly different. Trust was currency and you all delt generously. That didn't mean he wasn't himself, or rather the self that he had been molded into.

So he lie there on a stolen bedroll looking up at stars he'd become intimately familiar with and waited for exhaustion to take him. It would eventually take him, right?

The fire was in embers and soft breathing echoed through the shifting trees. He almost wished for someone to charge the camp. Torch in one hand, sword in the other. then at least his alertness would feel warranted.

Some time ago he memorized everyone's breathing patterns to scout who was a heavy enough sleeper to potentially drink from.

Shadowheart whimpered in her sleep and rolled around often. Halsin was an incredibly heavy sleeper, but Astarion wasn't willing to risk those bear arms catching him. Gale ground his teeth in his sleep and woke if the fire stayed out too long.

Karlach slept away from everyone and kept herself well guarded with boobytraps.

Wyll was his second choice behind Tav. He was a deep sleeper and didn't move much. Astarion intended to give him a try until seeing the knife under Wylls pillow.

It had been months since you had been generously feeding him, but Astation still kept the sleeping catalog in his mind. even now, he could locate everyone by their breaths.

Gale to the right. Shadowheart across the way, Tav-

An emptiness pressed in from the darkness. when had they gotten up, where the fuck did you go?

He squinted at your empty bedroll and then looked around. No movement caught his eye. He rolled onto his knees, throwing a bit of spirits and wood into the fire to keep Gale in his slumber.

This night was cooler than most. A welcomed surprise amongst a heatwave. Every night his week he's woken to a slab of sweat sticking his shirt to his back. Tonight it blew blissfully in the wind.

Tav was in none of the standing tents, nor the lake side, nor the storage trunks. He brought his hands up to his lips and blew between cupped fingers.

A perfect mourning dove call spread through the night. He doesn't know how or when he learned to do the imitation, but, he knew when he heard the song, it was time to venture back to the palace before sunrise.

It echoed in soft bouts of three with a break between to listen.

Ironically he'd never actually seen the bird.

That was then, now he used the song to find you when you wondered off. which was more often than he liked.

From somewhere in the thick of the trees he heard it. Soft and not as refined as his imitation, but still it was you. Wherever you'd ventured was beyond the reach of the fires light and he sighed frustrated lying before continuing.

He stepped into the sheet of increasing darkness until he was right beneath the call.

"up here," Tav whispered.

He looked around then up and to his dismay there the fuck you were, on a branch. In a tree.

"Why?" He sighed.

Tavs response must have been inaudible because none came. It was probably that insolent shrug. Astarion clamored up the lowest branch inching his way towards his squirrely companion.

"I'm too old to be climbing trees," He complained.

"I'm older than you," you retorted.

His eyes rolled. "only in human years."

"I think that should count for more where agility is concerned."

He didn't humor a response. His agility was fine. It was tested vigorously and consistently. Except not in tree climbing, which seemed to be oddly important to this particular adventurer.

A quiet disposition fell between the two. It could have been comfortable if the thin branch between Astarions legs was.

"Why aren't you asleep?" He asked, though his tone was harsher than intended.

"You've already fed on me tonight-"

"-Yes and this extra excursion could reopen your neck wound."

"did it?"

If it had, he would be able to smell it and it hadn't. "That's not the point."

"Is your drive to argue and criticize compulsive or some sick hobby?"

His mouth opened then closed. There you go again asking crypically deep questions he would think about later but needed to be witty about now. "A hobby, and I am rather good at it, so it seems or you wouldn't be deflecting-"

"Fuck Astarion I couldn't sleep."

Silence.

"Me either."

Silence. This one fell into one of those categories that could be argued wasn't silent at all. there was adjusting sighs and loud unspoken thoughts and a deafening need to not be silent.

"what was the city like at night?"

It wasn't a simple answer. He couldn't say there were nights he didn't even see the sky or that he scorned the warm pavement when he was out, because it got to be kissed by the sun. He couldn't say that for a few years into his spawn life he relished taking souls off the street because how dare they slink into his territory. into his hell when they had mornings.

It was different now, but only slightly. Night pressed you for answers to questions you didn't want to think about. There was nowhere to hide because it, itself was what you would hide in.

That's why people congregated under lamp posts and kept candles forward. Night wasn't cruel. She was- "Honest. After a certain hour the only ones left were the ones who were hurt enough to not look at the hour."

A break, a breath and a hushed smile. "Do you have the time?"

The corners of his lip tipped up. "No."

Now the night was as it should be. Now the silence could take hold of those who belonged in it. This was his peace.

[e-dubbc11]

Kill or Be Killed

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Violence, swear words, mentions of abuse, death, sexual reference but PG-13, little fluff

Word Count: 2K-ish

Summary: Billy helps you get rid of a problem

A/N: This a little over the top, I’ll admit it. But whatever, I do what I want 🤣

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

Bright red blood slowly trickled down the blade and dripped onto the floor as you stood over him and watched life leave his body. There was a feeling of satisfaction when the light faded from his sad, pitiful eyes but you found it difficult to control your breathing. The shallow movements of your chest expanded and retracted rapidly with every sharp inhale and exhale.

It had been easier than you thought it was going to be. The blade had basically done the hard work for you as it penetrated his skin like it was warm butter. Billy showed you where to stab Cole if he ever came after you again and, if you were able to, twist it so the wound wouldn’t close.

“His lungs will fill up with blood, cutting off the oxygen he needs to breathe.” He had said, all with a sly smile across his lips. “He’ll be gasping for air like a dying fucking fish.”

Billy loved showing you how to defend yourself and the desire you had to learn his ways, turned him on. It made him hard watching you practice self-defense moves or with his Ka-Bar. Billy’s skills were unmatched in hand-to-hand combat, you were learning from the best and no one would ever put their hands on you again. And if they did, they’d pay dearly for it.

The look in Cole’s eyes silently said he regretted stalking you, threatening you and, underestimating you. The words he had hissed into your ear the last time he saw you played over and over again in your head…”You don’t have the guts to kill me! You’re too weak!” And as he lay there wide eyed and dying on your bedroom floor, he knew he had made a big mistake and that you weren’t afraid of him anymore.

The meek and mild girl was gone and replaced with someone he didn’t recognize.

The heart beating inside his chest had been waiting to be silenced. You knew it wasn’t possible but you swore those quick heartbeats of his was the noise you heard thumping loudly in your ears, egging you on and taunting you into smothering the sound of it echoing inside the room.

“Are you weak like he said, sweet girl? Hmmm?” Billy had asked you sharply, his onyx colored eyes narrowed but didn't break eye contact.

In his slight New York accent, his voice was soft and harsh at the same time. You should have been frightened but Billy would never hurt you…he loved you.

Vigorously shaking your head, you replied, “No…I’m not weak, Billy. I’m not!”

“Then show me, baby.” He said, handing you the knife as his lips curled back away from his gnashed teeth.

Billy had you practice day after day, cutting up the dummies and slicing them where it would do the most damage, the places where a real person would bleed out in minutes.

“Ya know what a sharp blade feels like slicing your flesh, y/n? It feels as if the metal has been heated by a torch, almost like the skin is burning even though it’s not. That’s what he’s gonna feel. It’s easy to shoot someone but to actually puncture their flesh, to feel the knife go in, and then to smell the blood on the blade when you pull it out, it’s a high I can’t put into words, exactly.” He had said in a sinister tone.

Billy’s words sent restless shivers down your spine, his handsome features contorted with rage, and you knew you couldn’t live your life the way you had been anymore…on edge. The marks and bruises weren’t physically there but you still saw them sometimes when you looked at your reflection in the mirror. “Teach me,” you had said to Billy.

You didn’t want to be scared of a crazy ex-boyfriend that could be waiting around every corner for you or at the end of a dark alleyway.

Cole had made a promise to you. With his hands firmly around your throat, he promised you would die before anyone else could have you and you would have to kill him if you wanted to stop him. Those were his last words before you plunged the Ka-Bar right into his chest, puncturing his lung just like Billy said it would.

The strong copper scent of Cole’s blood on your knife flooded your sense of smell after you removed it from his chest and your taste buds were picking up the metallic taste of the blood particles in the air.

You weren’t left with any other choice. A restraining order was just a piece of paper; it didn’t stop him from breaking into your home or when he tried to strangle you while you slept. The only thing that would stop him was a hole through his chest.

“Still think I’m weak, asshole?” You had asked Cole curtly through gritted teeth as he clutched his chest, choking on his own blood and unable to breathe.

Billy was used to the kill. He was a scout sniper in the marines and it wasn’t very often but, even now, he still had to take a life when it was necessary, but this was your first time taking someone’s life.

You didn’t want to but Cole wasn’t going to stop, there wasn’t another way out of this except with someone’s death and it wasn’t going to be yours.

You had to beg Billy to let you do this yourself and deep down he knew you could get the job done but it didn’t mean he liked it.

“That’s why you have me! I’m here to protect you!" Shouted Billy.

You brushed his beard gently with your thumbs. “I know you are baby, but I CAN do this and it’s because you showed me how.”

And you made Cole pay. For every horrible thing he had ever done to you, you made him pay with his life. The loud rolls of thunder muffled his raw screams of pain as you pulled the knife from his chest and he fell onto the floor.

You posed the question, “You still think I don’t have the guts to kill you, Cole?” And right on cue, you heard a deafening boom of thunder overhead and saw a bright flash of lightning. It was like a scene right out of a movie where the heroine saves herself from being tormented by the big bad villain.

As you watched Cole’s life fade away into nothing, you tried to stop the devilish smile from stretching across your lips so you just let it happen.

He wouldn’t be able to hurt you ever again, he was gone, lying dead at your feet and you had done that. Your sinister laugh quickly shifted into fresh sobs while you still gripped the blade tightly in your hand.

The rain began to hammer against the window after a loud clap of thunder split the air. Cole’s blood pooled underneath him, spread along the wood floor and stained the white t-shirt he was wearing. You loomed above him with tears streaming down your cheeks, trying to stop your hands from shaking.

With your free hand, you balled it into a fist, clenching it until your nails were digging hard into your skin, leaving marks on your palm while you took a deep breath and forcefully exhaled.

But your heart began to race once again when you heard him call out your name. It was coming from the front door.

“Y/N! Tell me where you are baby, NOW!” Shouted Billy.

The tension in your back and shoulders eased when you heard his voice. And you knew he would stay close by no matter how many times you said you could do this on your own.

“I’m in the bedroom, Billy!” You choked out.

You saw the barrel of a gun pointing into your bedroom, his long agile fingers wrapped tightly around it followed by the rest of his body and very relieved to see his handsome face.

Billy looked at you, down at the floor where Cole was, and then at the knife in your hand. With relief in his eyes, he quickly holstered his gun and hurried over to you.

Your shirt was covered in blood, Cole’s blood but Billy didn’t care, he pulled you flush with his chest anyway to try and soothe you.

“It’s alright, sweet girl. I’m here, ssshhh. He’s gone.” He whispered into your ear.

“I killed him, Billy!” You sobbed into his shirt.

Billy grabbed the sides of your face and tilted it up to look at him.

“You listen to me! He didn’t give you a choice! He wouldn’t have stopped until he took you away from me! The police didn’t give you a choice! What did they give you? Huh? A piece of fucking paper!!” He yelled.

His intense brown eyes appeared darker than you had ever seen them, full of concern and relief at the same time. Those eyes were filled with…love and love only for you. Billy then carefully looked at the marks Cole left on your neck, making sure he wasn’t hurting you.

In barely more than a whisper, you looked down at Cole and said, “I know I shouldn’t say this but I’m glad he’s dead.”

Your own words caused goosebumps to erupt across your skin. You never thought you would say that about anyone because you were brought up to believe that there has to be good in everyone, right?

But you found out the hard way that that wasn’t true. There are people out there who are just pure evil. Billy knew that from the way he grew up and everything he had gone through in his life. He was hardened by life, that’s why it was easier for him to kill.

“I watched him die, Billy. There was a brief moment where I understood what you meant about the high you get from the scent of someone else’s blood that you’ve killed. I couldn’t help but smile, almost like I enjoyed it…but then I broke down.” You said softly.

Billy’s fingers danced up and down your spine as he said, “You’re not like me, sweet girl. You’re the most beautiful person I know, inside and out. You’re not broken and soulless, that’s why it’s easier for me. I feel nothing when I kill.”

“That’s not all that you are, Billy. I wouldn’t be with someone I didn’t think had a soul. I know they were all bad people.” You said with a slight smile against his chest.

“And so was Cole, my love.” Said Billy, kissing the top of your head like he always did.

The late night sky was vengeful tonight just as you had been. The rage burned like white hot fire inside as you felt yourself use whatever strength you had left to fight Cole off and stay alive.

Billy held you in silence with nothing but the pinging of the rain against the windows and you squeezed him back, thanking him for being there, for teaching you, and for loving you.

“I love you, Billy. And you are a good man. You’ve always been good to me.” You whispered against his chest.

You could feel him smile against the top of your head as he replied, “I always will be, baby. I love you too.” Billy paused for a minute before he said, “You know what you have to do now.”

Feeling his cool, damp shirt against your cheek, you nodded, pulled away and picked your phone up off of the bed.

A voice on the other end of the phone answered, “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

You opened your mouth but no words or even sounds came out. The inside of your mouth was dry as a cold spike of fear washed over you and tension tightly gripped your body. With a nod, Billy’s lips curled into a reassuring smile as if to say “Everything’s gonna be alright, sweet girl.”

The voice on the other end of the phone spoke again, “Hello? Are you there?”

As you closed your eyes, you inhaled deeply and let out a long exhale before answering them.

“Yes, I’m still here. I need help. I just…killed an intruder.”

You will be safe from now on.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialend @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @aoi-targaryen

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @ittybxttykxttytxtty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @russosafehaven @mrsbillyrusso

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[1-danid]

(pt2) dating teen vi

dating arc one vi part two, you have both aged up to arc two!

part 1 here! Go read it love!

You worked at the bar almost for the most part of your job.

You get a lot of gossip and news whilst bartending, it’s shocking what people will tell a pretty bartender when they're drunk.

You're much better of a bartender than Thieram, bless him. And he sees you as a really good friend because Jinx doesn’t scare him as much when you're around.

Not you literally being everyone’s favourite.

Also you 100% get free drinks when you're at the bar, like Silco loves you enough to let you get that free booze.

You're Silco's inside man or woman in this case I guess.

If you're not busy as a bartender you’d 100% be Sevika’s go to dealer for any game she plays.

You don’t even have a choice she's dragging you with her and shoving a deck of cards in your hands.

If she wins shell get you something the next time she's out, if she loses its your fault (she's just a real sore loser and wants you to cheat in her favour)

You're 100% a fair dealer, but when Sevika wins almost every round people get angry at you for cheating. Sevika would beat them up for messing with you.

You're like a daughter to her, and even though she doesn’t show it all the time. SHe cares about you a lot more than Jinx. When you're not working the bar, you're definitely patching up Jinx.

Speaking of Jinx always comes to you for comfort and reassurance as you're the only family she has left, even though Powder died.

You've stuck with her and she appreciates it.

Jinx has improved so much and you're proud of her, and believe it or not you feel like you found another family with her and Silco.

Sometimes you'll cook dinners and bake treats for them when you're off, getting Markcus to buy you the supplies you need as you play with his daughter in Piltover.

He won't admit it but he's more petrified of you than Silco and Jinx combined.

You don't like to go on glimmer mission, they remind you of your old life but on the occasion that Jinx can convince you to go.

You're still a badass, even though you stick to defensive attacks (you could never hurt Ekko.) You're still a force to be reckoned with.

Sevika is much nicer to you than she is to Jinx, but that is likely because of your maturity and you never climbed on her back when she had to babysit you.

When Vi meets Caitlyn in prison, she recognises your initials on one of "Powder's" drawings.

Poor girl has only thought of you and her sister, in all her time in Stillwater she's realised that she loves you and she wanted to find you and tell you that.

So when Caitlyn gives her an opportunity to leave she takes it, if only to know that you and Powder are alive.

We all know Vi is a flirt and she does flirt with Caitlyn, the cupcake scene is a canon event. So when one of your girlfriends sees Vi she waits to see who this pretty girl is with her.

You get news of Vi before Jinx and Silco and leave on your own to clear your head, as your ex lover is proclaimed to be alive.

You're overcome with emotions like jealousy, heartbreak, fear and most of all anger (covers your sadness).

How could she be okay without you, you could barely go a day without thinking of her and the good times how could she move on? Why would she move on and forget about you?

However Jinx took you out of your hole of self pity and wallowing, and asks you to come find Vi with her. It's at that moment you remember the torch and agree, travelling to the top of Zaun to light the torch.

Throughout this Vi had fought Sevika, who was taunting her about how you and Jinx had moved on from her, (we don't talk about your last fling, it was embarrassing.) As Vi is about to be beaten, Caitlyn saves her and then continues to flirt, slowly but surely more and more people hear about Vi's reappearance.

However when you and Jinx light the torch you have hope. Vi was never one to break a promise and if it was to Powder at least.

You stood there anxious as you watches all the fuel dry up and burn from the flare torch.

You just needed to know if she was alive or dead, to know if she cared about you and her own sister.

You needed to know if she had replaced you.

A/N

And that’s where I'm ending this part! I have no idea if i'll make another part but that one anon gave me motivation for this. So here you guys go. Sorry if it's all over the place, I need to rewatch Arcane. It's a bit rusty in my head. I swear I'm working on my atsv requests. I just had this in the works for longer. Hope you enjoyed be sure to leave comments and reblog it!

Next fic publishing will be after i finish updating my wattpad book. No you will not get a link to my wattpad account.

[gaiasgrimoire]

HEKATE - Ἑκάτη

Hekate is an ancient Greek goddess associated with magic, witchcraft, the moon, night, and the underworld. Often depicted at crossroads holding torches, keys, or serpents, she is a goddess of liminality, guiding souls through transitions and standing at the threshold between the living and the dead. Hekate is also a protector, especially of women, and a guardian of the mysteries of life and death.

Attributes and Symbolism:

Goddess of Crossroads: Hekate is often connected with crossroads, both literal and metaphorical, representing moments of decision, transition, and transformation. She helps guide those who seek clarity when standing at significant life choices.

Keeper of Magic and Mysteries: As a goddess of witchcraft, Hekate is linked to esoteric wisdom and hidden knowledge. She governs the night, moon magic, and the unseen realms, making her a potent figure for practitioners of divination, spellwork, and rituals.

Psychopomp and Guide of Souls: Hekate is known for her role in guiding souls to the underworld, acting as a bridge between the realms. She can help those seeking to connect with ancestors or explore shadow work.

Triple Goddess: Sometimes depicted with three faces, Hekate embodies the maiden, mother, and crone archetypes, reflecting the cycles of life, death, and rebirth.

Working with Hekate:

Protection and Boundaries: Hekate is a fierce protector and can be called upon to set boundaries, banish negative energy, and guard against harmful influences. Working with her can help strengthen your own protective instincts and psychic defenses.

Shadow Work and Transformation: Hekate is a guide for those ready to confront their shadow self and dive into deep self-reflection. She aids in transformation, helping you uncover hidden truths and face the aspects of yourself that need healing.

Moon and Night Rituals: Hekate is closely linked to the phases of the moon, especially the dark and new moon, making these ideal times for working with her. Candlelight rituals at night, using black or dark-colored candles, are common practices when invoking her energy.

Divination and Keys: As a goddess of thresholds and gateways, Hekate can assist in opening doors to higher wisdom and understanding. Tools such as tarot, pendulums, or scrying mirrors can be used when seeking her guidance in matters of the unknown.

Offerings and Devotion: Hekate appreciates offerings of garlic, eggs, honey, wine, and bread. Creating an altar in her honor with symbols such as keys, torches, or bones can help deepen your connection. The dark moon is a traditional time to leave offerings at crossroads in her name.

Mantras and Prayers: You can call upon Hekate through prayers or mantras. One popular chant is: "Hekate, Queen of the Witches, guide me on this journey."

Intentions for Working with Hekate:

Seek guidance when at a crossroads in life.

Work through fears, trauma, or unresolved emotions with shadow work.

Enhance psychic abilities or deepen magical practice.

Invoke protection and banishing of harmful influences.

Hekate’s energy is wise, potent, and transformative. She demands respect, but for those who walk with her, she provides profound guidance through the darkest paths and beyond.

[maukree]

The last thing Bucky remembers is the lounge, that mouthwatering scent, and then everything going straight to shit with no pit stops. He rolls over, coming face to face with a bunch of blankets. They aren’t soft anymore. They aren’t clean. And they sure as hell don’t smell like anything close to heaven now. They reek of sweat, filth, and something vaguely burnt—the fuck? Must’ve been his self-respect torching itself and going up in flames. His head is pounding, his heart is pounding, his den’s a war zone, the bed broken. His goddamn mattress looks molested. Jesus. What the fuck was that?

In Bucky’s defense, the compound’s a revolving door, and he barely recognizes half the faces most of the time, let alone pays attention to memos that pop up on his phone. Rating: Explicit Chapter: 1/?

Chapter Fills:

Peter Parker Bingo: SWF G3 Square - Enchanted (depends on how you look at it / a stretch) @pparkerbingo Winterspider Bingo: SWF O1 Square - Avengers Compound @winterspider-bingo Winterspider Bingo: NSWF Alt - Scent Kink @winterspider-bingo

[tickety-boooo]

Aziraphale's Flaming Sword

I'm working on a poem about Aziraphale's flaming sword and it got me thinking all about it, so here are my thoughts and findings!

First is looks: the hilt is surprisingly plain. It's not the intricate, ornate sword you might expect; instead it's more primitive, or ancient, by design. The pommel is rounded, and the hand guard curves upward around the base of the blade, resembling a cup shape, rather than a crossguard in a straight line. Actually, it resembles the handle of a torch, which is interesting. Torches give off light and symbolize guidance and enlightenment. An appropriate weapon for our angel, I think! Aziraphale is given the sword to help him guard Eden against... what, exactly? I've never really stopped to consider what the danger is supposed to be. Could it be the animals that live outside of the garden? After Adam and Eve are cast out, they're seen fighting a lion with the sword, and in his dialogue with Crowley, Zira mentions "vicious animals". If it's the forces of Hell, then he's not doing a very good job of it, (poor angel~) letting Crowley snake his way in with the whole apple business! And since it's a sword made of fire, would that even hurt a demon? Is it holy fire? Do angels have holy water AND holy fire, and if so, do demons have a "hellwater" equivalent?!?!? These are the real questions I need answers to!! lol

I wonder if instead it's supposed to match up with what's written in the Bible. An angel with a flaming sword is sent to guard the Tree of Knowledge AFTER Adam and Eve are cast out, to prevent mankind from re-entering the garden. The angel was supposed to stop humanity from returning to paradise! I didn't know about this detail! In the show I assumed Aziraphale was always stationed there to protect Eden, even before Adam and Eve were cast out! Was this Aziraphale's actual job? Was he told to go to Eden and guard the gate after the original sin? If true, I think this would imply he had only been in the garden for a short time by the wall scene in s1ep1. And then it would make sense that he didn't try to stop Crowley from tempting Eve if he wasn't even there to see it happen originally. He's called in to work after everything already went down (like a lead balloon). But he has empathy and takes pity on the humans, and by giving away the sword he deviates from the Bible's story. I think the way this scene is cut and edited it feels like all of these events are happening immediately one after another, as it is meant to serve as a summary of Genesis (we all know the basic story) when most likely there were moments in between, like God speaking to Adam and Eve about why they're hiding their bodies and, potentially, Zira's arrival at the garden. We see in a different scene later that Zira is patching up the wall, and God asks him about the sword being missing. How is he to defend the garden against humanity's return without his sword?

Moving onnn... This scene is an origin story for how humanity harnessed fire!! And Aziraphale is the one who gave it to us, to protect ourselves and stay cozy warm and cook our food!!!! That is so cool and it completely fits with his character!! I love that the flaming sword in Aziraphale's hands is a symbol of protection and self-defense, life and survival.

And then because it's been given away, given to humans, (who now have the capacity for both good and bad after eating the apple) after thousands of years the sword ends up in the hands of the horseman WAR. That's her key item to summon her for the impending apocalypse. It now represents how humans have control over fire; they've created gunpowder and artillery and war and violence and Earth-ending destruction.

But WAR is defeated by Pepper, using the same sword that now holds this duality in meaning. Pepper, "Pippin Galadriel Moonchild", the child of a hippie mother, or in a way, a child of PEACE, defending her world, protecting the lives of everyone on Earth. Ahh it's such a satisfying narrative circle, I love it!!!!

That's all for now! I totally paused my poem work to write all this out, so back to it!!

[nikaandtea]

top ted talks pt. 2

aka, songs written about josh/torchbearer, confirmed and not, all for fun so don't take it too close to heart (:

The Run and Go

with this song I believe Tyler has spoken before about how Josh is someone he would often call during difficult nights, and overall just someone he turns to for support. especially the chorus.

not wanting Josh to feel the weight of his own problems, but still needing him there mentally. it's a really sweet balance i think they found with one another, being able to cope in their own ways but with the assistance of the other. "cerebral thunder, and one way conversations" in my mind is like when you're having a panic attack, and the other person is 'having a one way conversation' with you as they do their best to calm you down. just a sweet song i think.

Tear in My Heart

tear in my heart pronoun change you will always be famous.

Morph/My Blood

double whammy for trench because they chose death for this album. morph is a track that i started associating with torchbearer post navigating mv. verse two, "He'll always try to stop me, that Nicolas Bourbaki He's got no friends close but those who know him most know He goes by Nico, he told me I'm a copy When I'd hear him mock me, that's almost stopped me". the idea of nico mocking the 'fake' torch, probably to stop him from fighting to get clancy to return home to the banditos, man. that morphing into someone else is a self defense mechanism, a way to protect clancy at a distance to keep him on track to their eventual goal. 'not done, josh dun' i mean cmon, they're just playing with us at this point. torch isn't done with the battle against the bishops, and will not give up on clancy no matter what. love this song.

my blood is just *chefs kiss*. the entire track is a similar idea. elaborating on the point that torch whole heartedly believes in clancy, and even when no one else believes in him, he will. it's just a very sweet dynamic, and i think it's what keeps clancy in the cycle of capture, escape, capture. knowing that torch expects him to return, that he holds the hope of winning this fight no matter how long it takes. "Surrounded and up against a wall I'll shred 'em all and go with you When choices end, you must defend I'll grab my bat". until their last breath, torch and clancy will have each other's backs, and i love that. they're truly everything.

(i would add choker, but i also don't have much to say plus i'm on the fence about it. im sorry scaled and icy you're my beautiful gf but alas you have no josh in you, maybe in another post)

Routines in the Night/Navigating

routines has a similar logic for me as run and go, as in it's also Tyler mentally opening up to Josh about his issues/ the halls of his mind.

as for navigating, little goes to say. we learn so much about torch's power in this as well i absolutely love this track as a whole. whenever clancy grabs onto torch we know that it helps him one way or another to find his way back/it activates the torch illusion to lead him back towards the banditos 'when our fingers touch i feel my way back home'. clancy thought he was just following torch, while in reality he just felt it. and don't get me started at the look they exchange when they finally reunite. the overall sound and lyrics of this track, suddenly cut to fade in 'my blood' as they meet eyes for the first time in years? insane. i n s a n e. torch means so much to clancy, we know that from the way dema citizens reacted to clancy, mocking his callouts for josh/torch. and torch going the lengths to make sure clancy makes it home? they drive me crazy.

once again, dear reader, thank you for reading my brainfart about these boys (:

[ryttu3k]

We've found Arabella! We gave her a care package! (When you're in dialogue, you can click the little trade button at the bottom left, and we just moved the backpack across for her.) It contains:

A bedroll, so she doesn't have to sleep on the ground

A small shovel, torch, and two candles

A tin cup, plate, and knife and fork

A shortbow and dagger, for self-defense and hunting

Casual sandals, a simple robe, and a brimmed hat ("This wizardly hat has a little embroidered rabbit inside its lining - the rabbit is called Snowball, and once he was lost, never to be found.")

Food! A supply pack, a loaf of sourdough bread, mushroom soup, three potatoes, a sweet potato, three carrots, two Waterdhavian cheese wedges, three charming little eggs, two red apples, some tea, and four bottles of water

Healing items! Three goodberries, and five potions of healing, plus an antidote and a potion of invisibility

Alchemist's Fire. Just in case.

Some scrolls for Feather Fall and Misty Step, in case of needing a hasty escape

Books and entertainment. We have Journey Through The Jungle, The Illustrated Adventures of Balduran, and The True and Impossible Adventures of Tenebrux Morrow (vol 1), plus a music box

100g, and peridot and agate to sell, if she needs extra funds

Our girl will be well-cared for!

Also here is Astarion in his element (ie. covered in someone else's blood).

Also Lae'zel was kidnapped by Bhaal's chosen and we stopped a serial killer but nbd.

[maplewood126]

Shadow Dwellers / Cave dragons

One of the more uglier dragons, they are very self aware of their looks. They constantly cover themselves in as much jewelry as they can find to make themseles appear "prettier". Shadow dwellers are big creatures who have big strong forarms and long thick claws for digging, while their smaller back legs are mainly used for pushing themselves deeper underground. They have whiskers on their feet nose and neck to help measure how wide a space is, wether or not its too narrow to get into. Their tails are covered in long sharp spikes, which is used as a defense. They usually come in very dark purples, oranges, blues and reds but yellow and greens have been seen. It is rare for one to have a light color (like the one in picture 4. Picture 4 also shows off the extent of jewelry). Their wings are attacted to their forearms which can make it difficult to move around in some areas in caves. They have four eyes which serve no purpose (i thought it looked cool) the pupils are constantly dilated to make it easier to see in the darker conditions. They are sensitive to light and require special eye wear when traveling above ground. Shadows dwellers call a series of cave systems and tunnels their home, with the kingdom being a very large cavern

[Source: Google]

They have different beliefs as well, believing that the kings should rule instead of the queens. Thsir current king is king Dolomite (1st and 2nd image) his wife is Queen excellent (3rd image) the caves are extremely dangerous, with cave ins being a constant threat and lack of oxygen and narrow passages and falling into deeper holes. You will see many dragons with scars and disabilities from cave ins or falling rocks etc. This is what happened to king Dolomite, who suffered major injuries from one of the largest cave ins in their history. He, unlike many others, was lucky to stay alive, only suffering a disfigured leg and difficult vision in his left eyes. They get alot of their food imported from the shorewings and food that has been hunted from the forest dragons. But the food that they do get from the caves are mainly bite size fish or salamander, cave shrimp and crayfish. Shadowdwellers are fire breathers, and use their Fird to light torches which help the town see throughout the day! Names are based off of cavern names, colors animals that dwell in caves, crystal types and pretty names like beautiful or gorgeous.

[haggishlyhagging]

The past cannot be recreated, but any future for lesbians depends on whether we can rebuild a mass radical feminist movement for women as a sex—one that defends past rights while challenging the myriad contemporary faces of patriarchy, capitalism, and backlash. It also requires that lesbians declare our independence from the "LGBTQIA++," which not only no longer speaks for us but that is actively challenging the very idea of a lesbian life.

The fight to preserve and extend women-only spaces and programs and our right to self-organization is key. We must create intergenerational networks of feminists where we can share this history so younger women do not have to reinvent the wheel. And we must break out of the underground nature of the resistance to transgender ideology by speaking out collectively and in solidarity with each other, i.e., having each other's back. They cannot silence all of us.

Already this is happening, with radical feminist groups forming in various countries around the globe, including groups collaborating in connection with the Women's Human Rights Campaign/ Declaration on Women's Sex-Based Rights. We must also separate the "L" or the "LGB" from the "T," as the activists both in the UK and Brazil have already done with the founding of LGB Alliances.

It is not enough to recognize the dangers of transgender ideology. We also have to keep our eye on all of our enemies, especially the powerful religious Right, which has been taking advantage of the absurdities of transgenderism and the betrayal of so much of the Left to woo some feminists into thinking the Right can be allies. However, their primary purpose is to pursue a misogynist agenda of rolling back the LGB, reproductive rights, and women's rights generally. And when the Right turns the tables on us, we can be sure that lesbians will feel the brunt of their attacks.

We must go beyond purely defensive battles to regain the radical edge of radical feminism and begin to envision once again what it will take to make women truly free. Because lesbians are women after all, and lesbian liberation and female liberation are deeply intertwined. Until women are free to love other women without penalty—without suffering stigma, violence, or economic privation—we cannot be free as a sex.

It's time to organize and fight back, sisters. For thousands of years men have had unimpeded access to and control over the bodies and lives, reproductive and productive work of women. Our bodies have been seen as a resource to use and abuse as they saw fit. Men defined who we are and who we could be. And lesbians were demonized and the lesbian possibility rendered invisible or impossible.

But we amazons are still here. Many of us are old Dykes, but we are not dead yet and are crucial voices in the new struggles now unfolding. We are determined to pass the torch to our younger sisters, just like we built our movement on the shoulders of the women who came before us. We were among the leaders and co-creators of the Second Wave of feminism. We are here as mid-wives to the Third (real this time). We women-loving-women did it before and we can do it again.

-Ann E. Menasche, “We Were Once Amazons: Mourning and Rebuilding Our Lost Lesbian-Feminist Communities” in Spinning And Weaving: Radical Feminism for the 21st Century

[joka13]

FANFICTION: Weasley Twins x Reader (Slytherin Girl) - Part 17

WARNINGS: British swearing, crying

You're surprised to see as many people as you do gathered inside Hog's Head. It's a small crowd, but you still had only expected six or seven people to show up. You count about ten, not including George, Fred, yourself, Ron, Hermione, and Harry. The three of you settle in at the back, and Ron joins Harry and Hermione at the front.

Just as Hermione had mentioned, Harry proposes to the group of students the idea of setting up a sort of Defense Against the Dark Arts club. You're only half interested in the thought until Hermione pipes up and says that Harry would be the club's teacher, seeing as how he's had plenty of personal experience dealing with the dark arts.

"You should have said that in the first place," George snorts loudly so everyone can hear. The entire crowd looks toward the back. "Count me in!"

Standing off to the right end of the group, a pretty girl with uncommonly pale skin meets your gaze. She glances down at the green and grey scarf wrapped around your neck, then leans over to the boy next to her and whispers something in his ear. You recognize him as a fourth year Ravenclaw, though you don't know his name. He acknowledges your scarf too, and his eyes narrow. You quickly grow very self conscious as you realize that you are the only Slytherin in the room.

Fred nods. "Same here. I imagine I'd learn more from Harry than I have from all of my past Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers combined." Many of the students seem to consider and approve of the twins' opinion. You see Harry, who's obviously flattered, trying not to smile. Hermione and Ron appear happy as well.

"Well, anyone who's interested in joining may sign their name here," Hermione says, gesturing to a piece of parchment paper that lies next to a bottle of ink and quill on a nearby table. There's a moment of silent hesitation.

"Oh, for the sake of Merlin's beard!" Fred and George groan in unison.

You stay behind and watch as Fred and George make their way through the small crowd of students. You smile to yourself in amusement. Their exceeding height and bright red hair in this dimly lit room reminds you of torches. Fred and George take turns confidently signing the paper, and soon the rest of the group starts to follow suit.

You go to get in line, but are stopped in your tracks when a cold hand tugs on your arm. You turn around to see the Ravenclaw boy.

"Can I help you?" you ask politely, gently smiling. You're pretty sure you know what he's on about, and you don't want any trouble.

The boy doesn't return the gesture, but tightens his grip on your arm instead. "What do you think you're doing here?" he asks demandingly.

Your smile disappears. You know you're not in the wrong, so you reply with honesty and bluntness. "I plan to sign this paper here. Just like you."

"And how do we know we can trust you?" the boy sneers. "How do we know you're not—"

He's interrupted when someone pushes themselves between you two. The boy let's go and you step back, rubbing your sore arm.

"Is there a problem?" It's George. He now faces the boy with his back to you protectively.

"As a matter of fact, there is," the boy replies shakily, struggling to keep his cool. "I don't think we should trust this girl..."

"And why the bloody hell not?" George growls. He stands up to his full height to intimidate. You notice the commotion is beginning to draw the attention of other people.

"Because, in case you haven't noticed, she's a Slytherin!" the boy exclaims as he takes a step back fearfully, bumping into Fred who is suddenly standing behind him. The boy swivels around in a panic.

"What's wrong with that?" Fred asks, smiling in a way that seems to say, "I dare you to keep talking".

Whether or not he means to, the boy remains speechless. He looks frantically back and forth between the twins.

"I don't see any issue here," says George, stepping back and folding his arms after a long moment of tense silence.

Fred mimics his actions. "Me neither."

They're giving the boy a chance to walk away.

And so he wisely does. The crowd parts for the Ravenclaw boy as he walks across the room, staring at the floor as he does, and exits through the front door.

Then every eye in the room falls on you. In the moment, all you want to do is get out of there. So, without saying anything or thinking twice, you leave also.

After all the fuss at Hog's Head, you decide you've had enough of Hogsmeade for the day. Right as you come to the dirt path that connects Hogsmeade to Hogwarts, you hear one of the twins call your name from a far distance behind you. You stop and turn around slowly, not sure you want to talk to anyone right now, even the twins. They quickly catch up to you.

"Are you alright?" Fred pants, coming to a halt in front of you.

George jogs up next to him. "Did I overreact?" He wears a nervous expression. "I'm real sorry if I did..."

You try to smile, but then burst into tears.

Taken aback, Fred and George stand frozen in place, watching you with wide eyes. You turn away in embarrassment and put your face in your hands as you continue to sob.

You feel absolutely retched. The day had been going so nicely. Just you and the twins. That's all you wanted! And then the stupid meeting got in the way. And that boy! Oh, that Ravenclaw boy...! But you shouldn't be mad at him. He was only saying what everyone else was thinking. A Slytherin. That's what you are. A sneaky, selfish, lying, little Slytherin. Why should anyone trust you? You'd only backstab them the first chance you got... because you're a Slytherin...

You are startled when two pairs of arms gently wrap around you. They hug and hold you, and you let yourself melt into their embrace. They support your weight so you can just sob. You sob and sob. But it's alright. You are alright. They're both here. Fred. George. Fred and George Weasley. They are here with you, for you, and that's all that matters...

You have no idea how long the three of you stand there, but the sky has darkened considerably by the time you stop crying. You stand up straight and the twins pull away from you slowly.

You sniff, then chuckle gingerly as you wipe away the snot and tears from your face. You must look a mess now, so you're grateful it's dark out.

"Thanks," you sniff again.

"Don't mention it," they say together softly.

"And..." You take in a deep, shuttering breath. "Thanks for being some of the only people who bother with me... even if it's only for my smarts. It sometimes feels like nobody wants me. I'm a traitor to the Slytherins, and everyone else hates me for being a Slytherin!"

There's a pause in which you hear the sound of the crickets chirping around you.

"You're more than a... an assistant or a helper to us now, y/n," Fred says, or you at least think it's Fred. It's too dark to make out the details on either of the twins' faces.

"You're our friend," the other twin (possibly George) says. "You're not a bother."

An appreciative warmth fills you. You smile. "I'm glad." You take a moment to gaze up at the beautiful, crescent moon sitting amongst an endless number of twinkling stars in the night sky. You sigh comfortably, then take out your wand to light the path back to Hogwarts. You start walking and the twins silently move to walk with you, (now you can see) George on your left and Fred on your right.

"By the way," Fred says after a quiet moment. "I, for one, like that you're in Slytherin."

The comment surprises you, and you laugh. "And why is that?"

"I do, too," says George. "It's sort of..." His voice trails off.

"Sexy," Fred finishes for him, nodding his eyebrows at you. You burst out laughing.

"I wasn't sure I should say it out loud," George laughs.

"Is that all?" you ask, still giggling.

"Yep. That's it. That's the only reason," Fred snickers.

"The qualities you have that got you into Slytherin are admirable... Or they are to us at least," chuckles George.

You snort. "Thanks... I guess..."

"Well, you know us!" Fred defends. "We can only dream of ever being half as skilled as you are in the ways of mischief!"

"What?" You laugh. "That's quite a compliment coming from you!"

"Don't get us wrong, we're pretty good," George chuckles. "And we do it more often, but it took longer for us to learn. It comes to you naturally."

You shrug your shoulders. "If you say so."

"It's true! I still can't believe how you've managed to make it all the way from the Slytherin common room to Gryffindor tower almost every night since we've met without getting caught!" George exclaims.

"A truly impressive feat," Fred agrees.

"I will admit I'm rather proud of that," you chuckle.

The three of you finally reach the castle. You enter the building and a wave of relief washes over you. It feels good to be back. It's been a long and emotional day. You're tired, and your feet hurt after walking around Hogsmeade for hours.

The twins start to head for the Great Hall, but you don't follow. They stop and turn around when they realize you're not with them.

"Aren't you hungry?" George asks.

"I am, but I'm more tired," you reply. "I think I'll head to bed."

"Oh. Then let us walk with you," says Fred. He and George start toward you.

"No, no! That's alright, you don't need to do that. You two can go eat."

"But we insist," the twins say in unison. They stand on either side of you and hold out their arms in a gentlemanly manner. You laugh and take their arms, knowing there's no use arguing with them.

The halls are practically empty now. Your footsteps on the tile floor echo, and you get a rush of nostalgia.

You arrive at the door to the Slytherin common room. You let go of the twins' arms and turn around to face them.

"Thank you both again... for everything," you say.

George starts to speak. "No prob—" You cut him off with a kiss on the cheek, having to stand on the tips of your toes to reach him. You do the same to Fred, who slightly bends his knees for you in advance.

"Goodnight," you say before quickly making your way into the common room, struggling to keep yourself from grinning giddily.

"Goodnight, y/n," you hear Fred and George say together. Just before the door shuts, you think you see them share a fist bump.