#warning signs of abusive tendencies

[domjaehyun]

hii i just wanted to say we shouldn’t really romanticize manhandling, don’t get me wrong i loove it in a fic and the idea is hot but not that much in real life.. but hey as long as you’re aware and careful that’s all that matters. be safe 🫶🏼

if a man did something to me i truly didn’t like i would probably kill him dw 💖 sorry i enjoy getting tossed around…. sue me…. no one goes after the dreamies for rough housing w haechan bc he visibly loves it, as did i when my crush was doing it 😁 just because you’re not into it irl doesn’t mean other people shouldn’t be 😭 there was no pain, no exertion of brute force, absolutely no malice or negative intent, and if i wanted him to stop he very much would have :) so don’t worry abt lil old me 💖 thank you for your concern though i appreciate it

EDIT: pls read the follow up before you get mad at me or anon….. sorry anon get behind me i’ll protect u

[6ronze]

WOMAN3AT3R!

𝒥𝐸𝒩𝒩𝐼𝐹𝐸𝑅𝒮 𝐵𝒪𝒟𝒴!fem!reader w her first victim : professor!nanami kento. warning(s): smut [18+] w little plot, intentional bimbo behaviour on ur part, unethical nanami, reader is in college, age gap (20’s & 30’s), possessed!reader duh, brief gore & cannibalistic descriptions, sir kink, grinding, eye-fucking, not proofread. wc is 2.3k

𝑁𝐴𝑆𝑇𝑌 chemistry professor at your school was notorious for failing most of the students in his class. But everyone around knew he’d slip in a pass any girl cute and desperate enough to bargain with him. Disliking his unfairness, you planned to use your looks to your advantage in order to ‘correct’ his ways.

nanami kento.

You’ve been hearing that name for the past 7 minutes you entered the building of your university. Students groaned and cursed his name, some lucky others giggling at his kind treatment towards them. Well, the only thing in common among those lucky few were that they were all women. At this point, coincidence wasn’t something you thought was involved anymore.

shrugging past the people crowding the damn place with ease, your eyes drifted to the signs on the top by the doors to each room, paying special attention to one specific office with nanami’s name. Your head tilted as you peaked in through the small slit of the parted door, gaze landing on the infamous professor.

He wasn’t bad looking, you noted. No, not bad looking at all. But sadly he had a bad tendency to allow passes to women willing to sleep with him, his flaw in his work ethic pissing you off. The fact that he was a man abusing his responsibilities to grade students unfairly at the cost of sex made you scowl internally with disgust.

So you decided to teach him a lesson—like all the creepy professors you did before him.

Onto your chemistry lecture, you entered his class, choosing to sit back up the higher rows of the auditorium. Of course the choice of your seat was strategic, meant to tease him from afar, catch his interest. And as the hours passed, it became more evident how you did exactly that.

The blond man had his eyes drifting upwards to you more often than he usually would, taking any chance he could to catch a glimpse of your cleavage, tits threatening to spill out from the low cut of your shirt with how much you leaned and rested your chest on your arms.

Fuck, you had him stuttering mid lecture with how unintentionally distracted he was from the sight of the innocent smiles your flashed him when your eyes met, the way you twirled a finger around strands of your hair. He cursed you for making him lose his train of thought, brows furrowing furthering with every passing minute in aching curiosity to know who the hell you were.

when his god forsaken lecture ended, you lingered, unmoving from your seat as if you knew for a fact that he would ask you to stay for a while.

And lo and behold, your predictions came true.

“Excuse me, miss. Would you mind if I had a small chat with you for a moment?” His smooth yet deep voice called out to you, his tone levelled but hinted with a hint of stoicism that would leave anyone wondering with anticipation.

You couldn’t help but chuckle quietly at the way he tilted his head up to look at you, eyes scrutinising you shamelessly now that everyone else was gone. Fucking pervert.

“Yes, sir,” you purred in response, lips curling to a knowing smile. You revelled in the way the professor’s nose twitched, scrunching up for a mere moment at the way you addressed him.

Sir.

It wasn’t anything special, nothing new to him. But the way it rolled of your tongue so naturally, so sultry, made his cock jerk ever so subtly in his pants.

Your brow quirked when noticed his reaction, exhaling a sigh as you got up from your seat, not bothering to grab your things with you on your way down. Nanami went back to his desk, taking a seat and gesturing a hand to have her take a seat across him. But of course, you denied his offer, opting for a closer seat.

“What’s your name? I’ve never seen you in my classes before.”

You answered with your name while grabbing a chair to sit beside him, eyes never leaving his in the process. “Why? Am I in trouble, sir?” You taunted, leaning forward in your seat to give him a better view of your plump breasts, the angle letting him have a glimpse of them under your shirt.

No bra, the aroused professor noticed, averting his gaze quickly after to avoid suspicion.

“No, not at all. I’m just curious as to why you’ve decided to join my classes now of all times. Why not just skip for the entire year, yeah?” Nanami responded, sharp eyes assessing you with frightening attention. He brought his arms up to his chest, folding them tightly enough to flex the muscles underneath his clothes.

“Well.. I’ve heard you’re known for being.. resilient with the marks you give to selected students..” you began, trailing off with a meek smile, cheeks heating up on command to sell the dumb little girl act. “And I’ve been struggling with this subject specifically lately.. I just thought you��d be able to help me,” you pleaded shyly, voice growing fainter as you neared the end of your sentence.

Nanami on the other hand squeezed a hand on his bicep tight, hips shifting slightly in discomfort at the growing erection he had. As if he wasn’t turned on enough, your timidness mixed along with your lewdness had his cock pulsating against the restrictions of his pants. How he wanted to get him hands on you right then and there, laying you on his desk and burying himself deep into your wet heat.

But he held back, not wanting to scare off what seemed to was a poor girl trying to manage her grades.

“Then.. you know what you have to do right? I’m sure you’ve heard from.. the others,” he questioned, tilting his head slightly as he met your eyes for a moment, making sure you knew what you were getting yourself into.

Staying in character, you nodded at him, thighs rubbing against one another impatiently. Quickly after, nanami laid back into his desk chair, arms unfolding and resting on the armrests with his eyes fixated on your still. It was like he was instructing you through his gaze alone, and even you couldn’t deny the allure this man had despite his wrongs.

You got up from your seat and took patient steps close to him, climbing onto his lap to straddle him. His hands made their way to your hips almost immediately after you settled on him, spreading your legs wide and nestling your clothed pussy right onto his hard on.

The blond professor had his eyes undressing you, not making any effort to strip you despite himself. He wanted to see how you’d go on about pleasure, using his body to get yourself off. He wanted to know what you preferred. Though he was as unfair as he was, he was always attentive to his chosen girls, making sure they enjoyed their time just as much as he was. For him, pleasure goes both ways. And seeing his partner in ecstasy because of him was his mission in these affairs he would have.

“Go ahead. Hump, grind, jerk me off if you please,” he urged coolly, stern gaze glazed with desire. His hand squeezed your hips assuringly, coaxing your compliance. And being a good student you were, you obliged, beginning to rock your hips into him, feeling up the ridge of pants.

“Mmhm.. yes, sir,” you breathed, lashes fluttering with your gaze fixated on the space between your bodies where your hips met his, skirt hiking up with the help of your hand to expose your damp pussy sliding back and forth on his clothed cock.

Your eyes began alternating between nanami’s pulsating cock beneath you and his face, taking in the sight of the ever so strict professor melting in your hands. Just now, maybe, did you finally understand a bit the girls that kept coming back to him even after he passed their grades. His flushed face and parted lips made you feel in control, even though you knew he was the one that truly held the reins.

Soft growls left his throat from the foreplay, thighs tensing under yours at your grinding. You could feel your slick escape the fabric of your panties, staining his black trousers.

The subtle jumps of his dick made you curious, persuading you to quicken the pace and travel a hand down to his fly, unzipping his pants and tugging it down along with his boxers to release his heavy cock. It sprung out with the tip an angry shade of red, drooling precum with its pulsating tip. You cooed at the sight, wrapping a hand around it.

Your started off with slow, long strokes, earning hitched groans from the man’s throat. You repeated the act, twisting and squeezing his thick girth just enough to coax more of his clear fluids until it dripped down to touch your hand. Your thumb rubbed over the head, gathering and smearing the pre all over his inflamed flesh.

“Enough of this, girl. Do what you came here to do,” nanami grunted, gravelly voice letting out a subtle growl right after. His fingers had been clawing on the flesh of your hips impatiently every since you took his cock in your hand, hips subtly shifting to thrust up into your smaller palm.

“Getting needy?” you teased with a sly grin, chuckling at his response; a hoarse fuck you.

With a soft sigh, you lifted yourself up from his thighs, obliging to his rough pleading. You positioned yourself so you were hovering right above his dick, his dull nails digging insistently into your skin barely restraining himself from just slamming you down onto his weeping length. He could do it easily, burying himself deep into you impatiently with an easy snap of your panties.

But he held back. Nanami continued to watch, your dominant hand moving down between your thighs to pull aside your lacy panties, fingers grazing the wet tip of his cock unintentionally, making him shudder. The damp fabric you tugged on exposed a glimpse of the wet pussy he was about to sink himself into, the sight making his loin heat up in a knot.

“Fuck, your so wet for me, darling. What’s that about me being needy again, hm?” Nanami’s eyes darting from your tantalising cunt to your face, quirking a challenging brow.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you uttered with faux innocence, spreading your legs wider before lowering yourself on him, rubbing your glistening folds against his sensitive flesh. That shut him up quickly, for just a bit though. Because right after, his features slowly contorted in pleasure, deep moans leaving his throat along with low rumbles in his chest when you began sinking yourself down his shaft, your wet heat fluttering around him with every inch you took.

Nanami huffed, gasping a few short breaths before uttering a forced, “Yes, you do, princess. You’d know every-fucking-thing about being needy, wouldn’t you?”

You merely exhaled a heavy breath with half-hearted laughs in between, his hands guiding and helping you bounce on his heavy dick, fingers tucked under your shirt as his own hips rolled upwards to meet yours. Nothing but pants and groans filled the spacious hall, echoes of the professor’s eager moans bouncing off the walls along with your own whines.

You couldn’t help but lose your composure all the while fucking him, your motive lost in your hazy mind now that his blunt tip was abusing that one sweet spot of yours that other men had barely even reached—let alone discovered.

The filthy words of encouragement slipping past your oh-so-prim and proper professor rent surges of arousal throughout your body in shocks you didn’t even know were possible, your vision disturbed by the unshed tears pooling in your eyes.

Even with your entire body melting on his lap right now, the thought of devouring him whole never slipped past your mind, though it almost did. Fluttering your lashes to keep then open, you gazed at the blond man in front of you with his face flushed a deep shade of red, hips rutting up into you to chase his inevitable orgasm, and yours.

How could you possibly resist the inhumane urge in yourself that gnawed at you, whispered the most gruesome ways you could have him to yourself. Sinking your teeth into his bobbing throat, marking him so deeply that he’d question your true intentions, making him wonder if he was fucking a pitiful student or a serial killer. The mere thought brought you to the edge of ecstasy, pussy sucking his cock deeper into your depths while he dragged your body up and down on his aching dick like a fleshlight.

“For fuck’s sake— why’re you so impossibly tight,” the heaving man gritted, veins on his neck bulging till they reached his clenched jaw, jerking into you now that he could feel his balls begin to tighten. He was so close too soon. He wanted to try holding back but you were taking him so good he couldn’t even slow down, your lewd moans and squelches of your sopping cunt urging him to continue.

Before you could muster the energy to compose yourself to answer, one last snap of his hips had his cock spewing hot ropes of cum, the warmth of the thick fluid invading your pussy startling you. But it also brought on your own climax, your walls spasming around him uncontrollably all the while your juices spilled around his pulsating length.

You collapsed onto his larger body with ease, his raising chest welcoming you nicely. The professor basked in the afterglow of your shared climax, his arms wrapped around your quivering body in an effort to soothe you and himself.

Your breathes began to even out, regaining your composure after a moments of rest. He calmed down just as well, his chest no longer heaving. You took the opportunity to lift your head up from his chest, leaning in to his shoulder instead, turning to leave sloppy kisses on the side of his neck until you reached his ear.

“Maybe we should meet up again tonight, hm? Continue this little.. rendezvous,” you whispered sweetly against the shell of his ear, blowing a soft breath to tickle him a bit.

“What do you say, handsome?” You coaxed, lips curling to a devious smile with your eyes gleaming with levelled murderous intent. You knew just the place to have your nightly meal with him. Obviously, he was main course.

Figuratively. And literally.

[endataraxia]

frustration and anger.

creepypasta/mh x reader in which they get frustrated or angry, or, in BEN's case, are frustrating themselves. word count: 2.1k cw: abuse, descriptions of anger, arguments/quarrelling.

EJ

EJ doesn’t often get angry.

in fact, it’s hard to even frustrate him. Even when faced with particularly difficult patients to suture up—ahem, Jeff— he shows no sign of being fazed.

well, perhaps that’s because he’s used to living with Jeff and his reckless, barbaric antics.

but when he does get frustrated, it’s like a gradual intensification.

you like to split his frustration into three phases.

phase 1: EJ starts to seem a little off. Quieter than usual, less responsive, and more distant. Almost as if he’s in his own world, deceptively peaceful.

phase 2: EJ starts to show actual signs of being frustrated. You notice that it is at this point he may start to snap lightly at others, but with you, he tries his best to keep it to a minimum.

phase 3 is the climax before the drop. On occasion, he may raise his voice slightly and openly express irritation. But he always drops, hard and fast.

“I am so sorry, Y/N, I am so sorry,” he whispers, rubbing circles gently on your back. Though he has to bend over quite a bit (he’s a gentle giant at a height of 6’6 or about 2 meters), you find it to be very soothing that his frame envelops the entirety of yours.

oh, but that doesn’t mean he’s incapable of getting angry.

no, the anger you heard in his voice was undeniable as he roared at another member of the household to stay the fuck away from you.

you’d startled at the sheer sound of it, and quickly those trembles descended into violent shaking as you cried—his roar was simply not…human.

you flinched as he picked you up, just as gently as was the anger intense in that dreaded noise he made, a stark contrast in behavior, a jarring change in your body, mind and soul.

but other than that, you knew your darling EJ was back.

he plopped you onto his bed, surrounded by his sweet yet musky scent, nuzzling your neck and your face.

“I’m sorry”s were whispered countless times in your ear that night as you dozed off in the safety of his arms.

jeff

gotta put a trigger warning on this one. you know what to expect, but just in case you don’t, TW: Jeff is literally a murderer with abusive tendencies and anger issues.

at the start of your relationship, Jeff had been…well, to say the least, not the best partner.

he often got mad at you, whether it be keeping him waiting or spilling a cup of water.

yeah. spilling a cup of water.

but you understood why he was the way he was. he just couldn’t help it. but that didn’t mean you were going to stick around for it, no matter how much you loved him.

one day after a particularly huge argument, you found him crying in his room. his sniffles were unmistakable, but you knew you’d have to pretend you hadn’t heard from ten feet away.

turns out, angsty little Jeff here wasn’t completely unaware of himself.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he had sobbed as quietly as he could. “I know I’m a bad boyfriend, I know, I keep lashing out at you and I’m so sorry.”

your relationship could have very well ended that day if you hadn’t found Jeff crying on the floor.

but even though he’d hurt you so many times, you took him back into your arms.

and so you taught him to manage his anger, though it took you immense effort, energy and bravery.

he’d always help, though, by reminding you it was okay to yell back at him. you chided him lightly for it, saying that it’d just cause a back and forth.

“oh, right. my bad. sorry, doll,” he had said with a sheepish grin.

today, you are proud to boast that you trained your bloodhound boyfriend to be a tame dog. hell, he even does whatever you tell him to now, albeit sometimes reluctantly.

but he understands that if he loves you, he must make sacrifices upon sacrifices. you did that for him.

now it is his turn to sacrifice himself for you.

masky - tim

it’s not really uncommon that Tim gets angry.

but his anger is almost always the quiet kind.

he will “hmph” and huff lightly, a mild kind of anger you both can still joke about, though his face will redden at it.

you can’t help it though, the sass he gives you when he’s lightly frustrated is too good to let slip past.

oh, but when his anger gets loud—

it’s no longer a harmless little nip.

it’s been directed everywhere. everywhere, his teammates, the table, the card game he’s losing a bit too embarrassingly to Toby who’s being an unbearable little ass about it.

but never you.

okay, it was one time.

but Tim decided it was one time too many. (as he should)

he’d raised his voice at you, more so out of frustration rather than anger.

and you flinched.

and oh, how that little flinch broke his heart.

he shut up immediately, gathering you into his arms, whispering “oh, I’m so sorry, darling”, and “you’re okay, you’re okay”.

he never did it again. ever.

now, when you both get angry at each other, it always devolves into stupid little giggles and kicking.

hoodie - brian

Brian doesn’t really get angry, nor does he get frustrated.

normally, at least.

something shines in his eyes when he is defied, a shadow of a grin, a curl of the lip—

you spend a couple days investigating this, defying him little by little.

“Y/N, could you pass me the water?” “No.” and you’d say it with a cheeky smile on your face to match this strange expression on his.

it evolved into much greater things, “Y/N, come over here for a bit.” “Nope!”

“Y/N, help me up.” “Nope!”

your gleeful defiance doesn’t have a complete zero effect, either. with each silly little “nope”, the glint in his eyes grows brighter. and you know that the cup you’ve slowly been filling the past few days is about to overflow.

it’s one fateful day that you happily defy him once again, and—

oh. something’s grabbing at your jaw, and your lover’s face is so close to yours.

he smiles so gently at you, so purely. but his grip on your jaw says otherwise.

firm like iron, reprimanding, but not harmful or venomous. you know he isn’t going to hurt you, but oh, he isn’t letting you go either.

“Y/N,” he says calmly. “You’ve been a little more uncooperative than usual.”

the shiver it sends down your spine isn’t one of fear. excitement, rather.

he lets you go, but guides you to the bed. “Sit,” he commands.

so you do. what else are you to do when your lover commands you so well?

“Good girl.”

so you never say no to him again, not when it comes to harmless favors.

Brian does not get angry or frustrated…at least, not like the normal person does.

toby

Toby becomes a very bitter cynic when upset, spitting sarcasm wherever he goes.

his BPD only makes it worse. his relationship with Tim is already strained as it is, with the latter trying his best (as much as a man with anger issues can), and his relationship with Brian being almost entirely carried by the older man.

and his relationship with you, oh his sweet vogel, his darling dove— he doesn’t know what to think of it. some days he lets loose around you, tickling you and blowing raspberries against your cheeks, and others he’s withdrawn, curled up into a ball in his bed, and so you dive in with him, nuzzling him against his sheets long overdue for a change.

but if it’s neither of those, he’s lashing out. sometimes you can’t even look at him when he walks into the room bringing dark clouds over the atmosphere. that’s when you know you can’t look up at him.

and when you make the mistake of looking up, your smile meets a scowl.

“what are you looking at.” he’ll spit, and then storm off, as if he can’t stand your eyes on him.

and it’s true, your eyes gaze at him with such gentleness, he can’t bring himself to stare back sometimes. especially when he’s in a bad mood, because he breaks inside as he sees his own eyes burn the love in your eyes, reducing them to ashes of fear.

“vogel,” he’d whisper at night, lying next to you in your bed. “i’m sorry.”

he apologizes so much and so often you no longer make a big deal out of it, but this time, his soft whisper is laced with such heavy guilt, your arms move before your mind thinks, pulling him into a soft embrace.

oh, but this bad mood is nothing compared to his jealousy.

Jeff gets close to you? Jeff is suddenly on the ground, blood leaking from his head and EJ hurriedly dragging the former away, admonishing him about not messing with Toby’s precious human.

Tim comforts you about Toby’s outbursts? suddenly he’s against the wall, Toby growling and spitting in his face. if he can’t be there for you, then no one else gets to be there for you either. though, he knows this is selfish.

if he could help it, he’d let you go to whomever you wanted for comfort. but oh, his heart aches so.

and his jealousy is nothing compared to how angry he gets at himself, bashing the walls of the manor, crying out at night, because he can’t be there for you like a normal boyfriend.

he doesn’t know this, but you’re in a corner too, muffled sobs, tears, nose dripping and all.

so at night, you crawl back into bed before he notices you, and lie awake till he comes back.

as his breathing settles and his snoring begins, you hug him just a little bit tighter, your sweet vogel with broken wings.

ben

you have to admit, BEN is really, really freaky.

in the way he plays his games, the way he treats his archnemesis Jeff, in bed—oops.

but particularly, in the way he seems to have an endless tolerance for things that would usually upset someone.

he just. fucking giggles.

“aww, my sweet Y/N is so cute when she’s mad~”

context: he pissed you off and you’re currently in the middle of admonishing him with your whole heart and soul.

conversely, you’re the one who gets mad right back at him.

within the hour, he presents you with a tiktok with two cats that says: me when i’m venting and all my bf does is make jokes

he cackles to the ends of the earth and proceeds to make even more jokes

frankly, when the topic of frustration comes up with BEN’s name in the same sentence, you pretty much just think of him being the frustrating asshole in the relationship.

“BEN, give me my fucking phone back.”

he’s dangling it over your head, using the fact that he’s a floating apparition that can somehow interact with physical objects to his advantage.

once, you got so frustrated at him that you cried.

thankfully, he had the decency to pause, panic, and reflect on his actions.

“oh.” five seconds passed and your crying didn’t get better (what did he expect?). he repeated himself. “oh.”

“actually say something, you idiot!” you sobbed. and this is what snapped BEN into action. (you can’t believe you actually had to tell him to comfort you.)

“oh.” then he realized he’d just been saying “oh” like a broken record. “um.”

so he wraps you up in a blanket like a burrito, and holds you close to his chest.

“i’m sorry.”

“promise not to do it again?” you look up at him with your best puppy eyes.

“…i can’t promise.” you can tell he’s holding back a cheeky grin.

you whine and hit him lightly.

but you know very well that he loves you; this frustration merely comes with him as a package.

[waddei]

now you people have to be honest with yourselves at some point. does hate watching dsmp (and particularly c! Wilbur related) Vods to pick apart "warning signs " and "red flags" for the ccs behavior actually amount to anything?

what do you gain from saying that "we should have known" aside from pity for yourself?

"I think he wasn't acting in this one" is a particularly insane one I've heard. what do you mean with that? are you implying that Will gold's abusive tendencies where just constantly and proudly displayed to the public on a stream? if it was so clear then why didn't YOU pick up on it back then? is it actually clear or are you purposefully misinterpreting a CHARACTER played by an ACTOR to justify you own guilt for having ever liked either

are you implying that if someone plays a character that is evil, manipulate or even just mean,is because they are secretly all of those things? don't you realize you sound like a kindergartener?

going further, if it was so clearly "not acting" do you seriously believe that not even one of the thousands of people that obsessively analized the lore stream by stream would have said anything?

this post is NOT a defense of William gold, it's a defense of c! Wilbur, which I asume it's clear if you 1) know who I am and 2) know how to read. but I figured I clarify

[untoldstar]

male yandere psychologist x fem patient reader [introduction]

warnings: heavily implied that the reader is a patient at a psych ward, obsessive behaviors and tendencies, abuse of power, toxic environment, yandere themes, might not show in this part but for the future Ivan takes advantage of the readers vulnerable mental state.

There aren’t intense scenes in this at all (as I see it) BUT as for the coming parts of this OC it still has to do with a character who struggles with mental illness, an extremely toxic psychologist who abuses his position and being in a psyche ward so if you feel like any of that sounds triggering or there’s a possibility it could be triggering I would urge you not to read this or other parts of this OC.

pls be careful what you read guys and stay safe mwah🫶

Tick..

Tick..

Tick..

Ivan taps his foot impatiently and pushes up his sleeve for the millionth time to reveal his wristwatch.

2:59 PM

Just a few more seconds..

Tick..

3:00 PM

Ivan smiles, his stiff body finally relaxing and just like everyday a knock is heard on his office door and in walks the nurse pushing you forward like a criminal into his office. He only spares the nurse and nod and a polite smile before his attention is directed at you, focusing on your every move anticipating what you’ll do next. You huff and plop down in the chair in front of his desk rolling your eyes "Ah [name], how are we doing today?" he clasps his hands Infront of him and stares at you expectantly.

Just like everyday.

‘Why does he ask the same question every day? What could possibly change in the matter of a single day? They should've made these cheek-up's weekly instead. This is becoming such a pain.’

"Fine. Just like always." you answer curtly. He hums nodding "Well, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut to the chase today there’s something I must discuss with you.” You quirk a brow. You have to admit seeing the serious expression instead of the easy going one he usually has is a bit unnerving “I'm sure you already know that your..leave is to be expected soon." his lips twist in displeasure as if merely saying that has left a bitter taste in his mouth. You nod "Yes..what about that?" he sighs "Well, I'm afraid I've come to the decision that you'll have to stay a while longer, just to be safe." Your heart plummets. Sure you haven't been kissing Dr.Ivan's ass or being necessarily..nice to him but that shouldn’t have anything to do with your treatment. You know you've been getting better so what possible reason could have you stay here "Just to be safe? What is that supposed to mean?" you shoot daggers at him but he doesn't seem the least bit bothered by it "We’ve witnessed many patients show signs of improvement and seem like they’re ready to leave but there were also many instances where patients leave our facility and end up..falling into old patterns. Not that I expect that from you but I would like to guarantee your safety." You swallow the lump in your throat. Can they even do that? Is that even legal? "..How long?" a few beats of silence passes by while he blankly stares at you before answering "A month." Your shoulders drop down exasperatedly. Another month??

You feel frustration bubble up inside your chest. You feel hopeless as if you’re never getting out of here. You can’t take it you can’t take seeing the same hallways the same people this same fucking office everyday.

You don't say anything when you get up from your chair and start charging for the door "Our daily check up isn't quite done, my dear." His voice booms behind you "I don't fucking care." You spit back and go to reach for the door when his hands suddenly slam the door on either side of you, trapping you against it "Why are you always trying to leave me?" he whispers his shaky breath fanning against the side of your neck "..What are you talking about..Doc-" his hand clenches into a fist "Don't call me that!" You flinch trembling slightly "..I'm sorry I raised my voice, but I've told you countless times before you don't have to call me 'Doctor' my dear. Ivan is fine." You stay quite and he sighs "You won't even say my name.." he leans his head on your shoulder his body slumping almost exhausted from the interaction.

You hold your breath eyeing the door handle inches away from you "Why do you hate me so much?" his voice almost breaks "You roll your eyes at me, you barely say a few words in our daily sessions, You can't stand it when I go to visit you in your room.." he steps closer, his body now flush against your back "You throw a fit and almost walk out on me.." he moves his head to the side sniffing your hair and you hear him let out a groan “God I thought you’d be happy about staying here. All I want is for you to love me. Why won’t you love me? hm?” his arms slide down for the door to wrap around you squeezing tightly “Am I just the annoying psychologist your forced to talk to? Is that all I am to you?” he keeps talking almost in his own world too intoxicated by you, having you in his arms body flush against his your scent enveloping him “Damnit why won’t you-“ you take advantage of his vulnerability and decide to make a run for it, using the door to push back all of your body weight to at least have his arms off of you immediately taking a hold of the door handle and leaping out of his office, you run down the hall never looking back. You’re surprised he didn’t pull you back in maybe he was shocked maybe he wasn’t and he just..let you go. Whatever the case was you had to get as far away from him as possible.

Ivan’s left alone in his office panting, cheeks flushed and an obvious tent in his pants. He lets out a low chuckle looking far off into the hallway ‘Soon..instead of running away from me you’ll be running to me. I’ll make sure of it darling.’

[muzansfangs]

Bloodstain.

Starring: Aizen Sosuke x f!reader; Urahara Kisuke x f!reader; Urahara Kisuke x original female character (Ran, the mod-soul taking over the reader body, when she is not in the world of the livings); Nnoitra Gilga; mention to Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, Shuhei Hisagi and Ulquiorra;

Format: multi-chapters story;

Warnings for this chapter: nsfw, oral sex (Kisuke!receiving), cum swallowing, language, jealousy, slightly manipulative behavior, possessive tendencies, struggling with feelings, denial, inappropriate use of the reader body, death threat, abusive behavior and harassment (from Nnoitora), hair pulling, sexual tension;

Plot: Your cohabitation with Sosuke begins. Upon entering your flat, you two are welcomed by your companion’s worst enemy and the coquettish mod-soul supposed to be your substitute during your absence. What you were not expecting, though, was for the two of them to be involved into an intimate intercourse right over your couch and for your new housemate to make you question yourself once again.

N.B: Here we go! Our dear reader is back in the World of the livings, finally… I won’t even apologize for Urahara being a pervert as per usual, lol. The soul we have ‘adopted’ is called ‘Ran’, which should mean ‘Orchid’ in Japanese. Well, her behavior is questionable, I know, but it will be hopefully fun!

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | TO THE NEXT CHAPTER

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𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫.

The moment you stepped back into the World of the livings, you almost felt disoriented. The mastodontic skyscrapers, the cars rushing down the streets and the noise pollution almost gave you a migraine. When you had to spend weeks into the Soul Society, going back to the chaotic city life came along with some struggles. Once the portal closed behind your back, you sighed in defeat. This was literally the beginning of your personal living Hell. Your life was most likely going to be messed up by the man currently standing right next to you.

That man, right. Aizen Sosuke, the bastard who had indirectly deprived you of your social life and freedom. The same man who had deliberately pushed Shuhei to his limits and caused him to stare at you as if you were a madwoman, a traitress. He was always going to be a puppet master, playing with the feelings and life of whomever had been that unfortunate to stand on his path.

After that small argument with Shuhei, you had refused to talk to Sosuke. Saying your goodbyes to your friends, you had entered the Seinkaimon with a plan mapped out in your head: as soon as you were finally back into the World of the livings, you were going straight to Urahara, asking him for the gigai he had prepared for your new housemate. Now, though, staring at the shop sign of Kisuke’s emporium, you realized he was not there. Where was that man, when you needed him the most? Maybe he had gone to check on the rowdy mod-soul taking over your body during your absence: Ran. If that was the case, you had no other choice than going to your flat.

Without uttering a word, you turned around and began to walk in the direction of your apartment, only for Sosuke to finally remind you of his intrusive presence in your life “For how long are you going to pretend I’m not here? That’s rude and immature, don’t you think?” he asked you, his tone of voice flat.

“Immature?— you sarcastically repeated — You are one to talk, considering you purposefully ignored my request of waiting for me to come back and acted like a petulant child. Yeah, Sosuke, thanks for having disrupted any chance I had to reconnect with Shuhei” you resentfully apostrophised him, glad no one could see you two bickering like this.

Sosuke scoffed “Was it really my fault?”.

You glanced at him briefly, arching an eyebrow inquisitively, before focusing back on the street. Your silence spoke volumes and Sosuke knew you wanted to hear his theory.

“I might have become the center of his attention and provoked him, that’s true. However, why did he leave? He could have stayed, talked to you. Isn’t that what couples do? What I am asking you is: are you sure he cares about you?” he seraphically asked you, chest puffed as he watched your certainties waver. There he was, slithering in your head and controlling your emotions.

Were you really that surprised he was back at showing off his asset of mind manipulation? Obviously, not in the slightest. But the worst part of it was that he kind of had a point, even though you were aloof from admitting it out loud, in his presence, you had been hurt by Shuhei’s departure and seemingly total lack of interest in leading on a mature conversation with you. Watching you take Sosuke’s side had clearly broken his heart, but you had given him a valid reason for you to do it. You did not particularly abided the questionable decisions of the Central 46, then again you did not want any problems with them. You were simply doing your job, keeping the special threat at bay and defending Shuhei from him. The position you had been put in was not of your likings. Then why did he leave?

“Shuhei and I are not a couple. — you curtly said, eventually — Hence, keep your unrequired opinions and that slimy tongue of yours far away from me” you consolidated, before pointing to a modern building in front of you. Home. You were finally home, despite your new murderous companion.

Letting your gaze travel up to the third floor, you saw the window of your living room opened. It would have been easier and better sneaking in from there, especially since you had no keys with you.

“That’s my apartment. We can enter from the window” you stated, watching Sosuke already scrutinizing the area around the building. It was located in a optimal position, to be fair. Not too far from the main shopping streets and close to the public park, if you wanted to relax and take some hours off from the hectic city life.

“What’s wrong now? Does his lordship dislike his new residence?” you queried, but you soon realised Sosuke was actually focused on something else.

His brows furrowed, he darted his eyes from the window to you “Do you live with someone else in that apartment? I can sense an atypical reitasu reverberating through the walls”.

“Uhm… Well, you could say I do, but it’s just Ran. She’s a mod-soul. Is that a problem?” you casually asked him, but you omitted some details about her personality. That girl was surely a curious specimen. She was literally a female version of Kon and thus she had caused you quite the embarrassing problems back then.

Sosuke ignored your explanation and flash-stepped up to the window in a blink of an eye. You sighed, having no other choice than following him right away, but the spectacle waiting for you upon entering your flat was surely a sight you would have never expected to behold. Your jaw dropped, no sound coming out of your throat, as you watched in disgust and horror Ran, in your body, knelt between Kisuke’s spread legs. This was a nightmare.

For a split second, you thought Sosuke was using Kyoka Suigetsu on you, but when your eyes flicked towards him to question him, you were genuinely surprised to finally see a rather irked expression plastered over his face. You had been figuring to see his usual cold-indefference etched on his face, but you were terribly wrong.

The assiduos bob of Ran’s head came to an end, when her senses alerted her of your presence. You watched her widen her eyes, hastily pulling away from Kisuke’s length with an obscene ‘pop’, as she wiped her chin, glistening in saliva, with the back of her hand. Kisuke, however, turned his head leisurely towards Sosuke and you. Shamelessly, he let out a soft chuckle, waving the fan in his hand to greet you two. His lambent grey eyes bored into yours, as he stood up and fixed his pants.

“Ah, welcome back, Y/N-chan!” Kisuke beamed, approaching you two.

Sosuke shot him an earnest glare, refusing to even greet him back. His eyes, you noticed, had now settled upon Ran who had timidly stood back up and was trying her best to clean her face up. Her sense of shame was kicking in, finally. You honestly had no idea how to react. What probably gave you the ick was the fact that Ran had given him head while inhabiting your body. Well, this was just absurd.

You cleared your throat, finally locking eyes with Kisuke “What the fuck was that?” you questioned him.

“A blowjob” Sosuke monotonously uttered from beside you, making you roll your eyes.

Kisuke chuckled, hiding his shit-eating grin behind his fan “Oh, such language, Aizen-san! But, well, we have been contacted by Kyoraku a few hours ago. You could say we were killing the time, whilst waiting for you two to come!” he casually replied, glancing behind his back to check on the coquettish mod-soul currently watching the scene in interest.

Hopping down from the windowsill, you dropped your bag onto the floor and folded your arms against your chest. That mod-soul had crossed the line, there was no way in Hell you were allowing her to take over your body ever again. Confined in the plushie you had chosen for her forever, this was going to be her fate from now on. Judging by the way she was keeping her distance, she probably knew what was coming.

“Pardon me? Listen, I don’t really care about what you do and with you, just… — you paused, eyes downcast as you struggled to keep your composure and find the right words to express your consternation — She’s in my body, Kisuke. Do I really need to tell you why I am upset?” you stated, before glancing back up at him. You wanted to believe he felt, at least, a little guilty about it but, even with that fan hiding the lower part of his visage, you were pretty sure he was grinning in amusement.

Sosuke suddenly snatching away Kisuke’s fan from his hand caught you by surprise, his eyes darkening as he proceeded in talking “Your presence is evidently unsolicited. Give me the gigai you have projected and leave” he flatly said, jaw clenched as he did not even bother sparing you a look. His reiatsu was ominously blanketing the entire flat, coaxing you to inhale sharply and lean your back against the windowsill to find back your balance. Was he defending you?

You knew Sosuke could not really stand the sight of the shop-keeper, but there was not just unadultered annoyance for the past events in his voice. It sounded like there was something personal involved in that, in the way he shoved Kisuke’s fan back against the other man’s chest and glared down at him.

Maybe you were just seeing too much into it. Or maybe Sosuke was struggling to keep his emotions on check, as he always did. Either way, you were in no mood to talk to Kisuke any longer and your housemate’s outburst was strangely appreciated and supported by the offended part of you that shot a blank stare at the former Captain of the Gotei 13.

“I will probably regret saying it later on, but I have to agree with Sosuke. Let’s get this over with, Kisuke” you gingerly agreed with the brunette, before Ran jogged up to Kisuke and wrapped her arms around him, almost protectively, clinging onto the man for dear life.

And only then you caught a glimpse of Sosuke’s face, sternly witnessing to the scene unfolding before your eyes with a rather displeased expression on his face. Was it Ran the problem? Was he upset because Kisuke had accepted the mod-soul’s avances, while she was inhabiting your body? Oh, you could say so, the same glint of possessiviness you had spotted in his eyes yesterday night and early in the morning was back in his splendid irides. This felt awkwardly familiar. You remembered now some other occasions in which he had displayed latent intolerance at your interactions with other men. There was only one of the Espada he trusted around you and it was Ulquiorra. Grimmjow was not allowed to be around you, not after he had caught him tracking down your scent through the corridors of Las Noches, not after you had showed him empathy after he had lost his arm.

He could not let you alone for a second back then. Looking back at it, you were glad he always had your back. More than once, you asked yourself what would have happened to you, if he had not been there to stop Nnoitora from cornering you in a isolated area of the castle.

It was late at night in Las Noches. Looking for your sword, when most of the inhabitants of the palace were asleep, was easier than venturing through the corridors and rooms in the daylight. Deep down, you knew where your zanpakuto was. Still, you were too frightened by the idea of sneaking into that room, into ‘his’ room. Aizen Sosuke would have never trusted anyone to keep your blade but himself. If you wanted your blade back, you had to walk right his den. Walking into his private quarters, though, would have only meant giving him the occasion to get closer to you, to break down the fragile, crumbly wall you had tried to build between you two. You would have never admitted it out loud, not even to yourself, but there was something about him that made you feel free, completely capable of making mistakes and be yourself and not like you felt around the others, as if you were a microscopic ant under a magnifying glass for people to point out your flaws.

You liked him, oh you did, and this was a huge problem, the main reason why you were currently in denial.

You were so lost into the depths of your mind that you barely registered a slender figure approaching you with a Mephistophelian grin promising nothing but troubles and sufferings.

“Ah, what’s Aizen’s pet doing out of her cage?” Nnoitora asked you, tilting his head to the side as his eye scrutinized your body in a way that made your skin crawl. It was not the first time he did that, but the last time he had tried something Sosuke was there to stop him. His presence alone was enough to prevent any of the Hollows to display hostility and inappropriate gestures to you. How pathetic were you for wishing your captor was there to save you?

“I was just going back to my room” you flatly replied, twirling around hastily and making your way back to your bedroom.

It was pretty obvious you were not going to be safe there, not as you felt Nnoitra’s hand latch onto the column of your throat and pulling you back against him. Your eyes grew round, whilst you wriggled in his grasp, your hands attempting to create a barrier from his hand and your neck to let you breathe properly. Maybe, for the first time ever, you felt real fear. Was it not funny how you never felt such a baleful feeling around Sosuke, the worst man living in Hueco Mundo?

“Nnoitra, let me go” you hissed, scrunching your nose up in disgust when his free hand skimmed down the bare skin of your stomach, exposed for the design of your uniform.

The Espada at your back scoffed, his pointy nose gliding down your cheek, his tongue licking a stripe of your skin “Why would I do that? Hasn’t Lord Aizen taught you to be a good pet?” he mocked you, his grip on your neck tightening significantly.

Your vision became dotted, your breath cut short, as your strength began to leave your body. A victim of Nnoitora’s abuses was definitely a pitiful way to go down, or at least it would have been so, for a baritone voice piercing your ears saved your life. There, he was there to save you.

“Haven’t I taught you to keep your distance from her?” Aizen asked calmly, whilst the Espada dropped you instantly onto the floor.

You landed onto the ground on your hands and knees, panting, eyes watering in panic as you bit your tongue not to thank him. You oughted him your life, but being in debt with the very man you were supposed to kill was a stain on your moral code. Your pride was crumbling and you felt so embarrassed that you did not even realise that the Espada had left you alone with Sosuke in the desert corridor.

You did not realise it, until his hand cupped your cheek and you found him knelt in front of you, inspecting your body in search for possible injuries.

“Are you hurt?” he asked you, his thumb grazing your cheekbone, sending shivers down your spine.

Back in your room, you had to flee from there and lock yourself in your stupid room.

“No” you shortly whispered, staring deeply into his caramel brown eyes.

“What were you doing out of your room alone?”.

“I could not sleep”.

“Liar”.

You sighed, grasping his wrist to lower his hand from your face, your eyes averting from him to stare at the void at his back “It’s not your business, I just want to go back to my quarters now ”.

Sosuke did not seem to protest, not as he helped you back on your feet and silently led you to your room. His presence was not suffocating, not at all, but the words leaving his mouth before he wished you a good rest would have haunted you for days.

“I would not be pleased, if something happened to you”.

To pull you back from your small tour in the memories you had made in Las Noches was the mod-soul’s voice, ringing out in the living room as she protested to your request of making Kisuke leave.

“He’s not leaving! What is it, you go to the Soul Society and come back as a holier-than-thou bitch? It’s only fair I have my fun too!” Ran chirped out, narrowing her eyes as Kisuke tried to get free from her overly affectionate embrace.

If only she knew what you had been up to in the Soul Society, she would have definitely not said such a thing. With your eye twitching, you walked up to her and tangled your fingers in her hair, yanking her back towards you. Solving one problem at the time starting from her was the best decision ever and you were currently running out of patience.

Ran winced, hands flying up to try and set herself free from your grip, but you were faster than her “Listen up, you randy minx, if you like Kisuke that much I’ll gladly kick you out of my house as well. Bye and have fun with him!” you snarled, elbowing her on the stomach to let the small green pill pop out of your body. More than them leaving your house, you justed needed some peace.

Ran gagged, as the pill popped out of her mouth, the trajectory leading to Sosuke that quickly grasped it and stared in disdain at the small sphere in his hand. For a second, you got distracted, fearing he was going to destroy it and you let your now lifeless body onto the floor carelessly. It was true that you had gotten mad at Ran, but you did not wish for her to be eradicated from this world. Deep down, you cared about her, enough to gulp down forcefully and extending your hand towards him.

“Nice catch… Hand me Ran back, please” you stated politely.

Sosuke huffed “All it would take to get rid of this insignificant prick would be a mere snap of my fingers. — he reasoned, flicking his gaze up to look at you — Are you sure you want her back?” he inquired, making you regret having hit her all of a sudden and out of irritation.

“Hey, Ran isn’t a prick! She’s my creation and a being!” Kisuke interjected, stomping his foot as he took a step towards Sosuke, his tone actually serious after a long while.

“Is that what you do for a living now? — Sosuke sarcastically asked him, his gaze now transfixed on the shop-keeper — Creating girls for you to exploit?” he provoked him, but you were quick to stop Kisuke from sprinting towards him. Your arms were tightly wrapped around the man who had trained you, now your boss at the shop, a great friend, and your eyes were practically pleading him not to let things escalate.

Kisuke scoffed, grey eyes locking with yours “I will kill him for real this time” he asserted, only for you to shake your head and bring him back on Earth.

“You perfectly know it is impossible to do it”.

Sosuke watched you two almost disinterested in your conversation, rolling the pill between his fingers whilst exploring your flat. He had, in fact, noticed the gigai in the corridor. Albeit he was not a fan of this whole plan of him living in the World of the livings, he could at least enjoy some fresh air in a real body. Ignoring you two, he did not waste any precious time in possessing the gigai.

Catching a glimpse of what he was doing, you gawked and blinked a couple of times in curiosity “What… Oh, you found it” you noted, hearing Kisuke huff and fold his arms against his chest.

“It’s a regular gigai. You will experience all human needs: eating, sleeping, biological functions and impulses… — Kisuke explained, ambling towards the couch to grasp the tiger plushie you usually let Ran inhabiting — Hopefully, it will contain most of your reiatsu. As you can see, you have no cuffs, just the eye-patch. Wear it outside this flat, or I will literally come to stress the hell out of you” he admonished the brunette, before roughly snatching the pill from Sosuke’s hand and walking casually towards the front door. The way Kisuke had said ‘hopefully’ did not go unnoticed to you. Probably, the gigai was not ultimated. Shivers ran down your spine at the thought of Sosuke being a practical nuclear bomb.

Sosuke quirked his eyebrow up, running his fingers through his hair, getting comfortable in his new arrangement “Leave” he merely stated, making you roll your eyes, as you accompanied Kisuke to the exit.

Peace, the incoming peace was the only thing prompting you to collaborate. You were going to have a long talk with Sosuke, once alone, but nothing you could not deal with. After all, he could be reasonable, if he wanted. Well, not with everyone but with you he did. That weird way of getting along never ceased to amaze you.

Opening the door, you waved your hand at Kisuke “See you at work tomorrow, I guess” you said, only for Kisuke to shake his head and motion at the man at your back, leaning against the wall with an unreadable face. He always shut everyone out of his head. It was frustrating. You wanted to know what was going on inside his head, for once.

“Take a week to settle down with mister ‘I-am-a-god-kiss-my-ass’. You must be tired” Kisuke’s fatherly tone surprised you, but you gave up. No, you would have not passed off a chance to take some time for yourself and establish some rules for your new housemate.

“Thanks” you smiled weakly, watching Kisuke wink at you and leave your flat with his usual calm demeanor.

You did not wait for him to disappear from your sight: you walked back home, closing the door behind you and walking to the kitchen in a desperate need of a glass of water. Your back was facing the entrance, as you reached your hand up to the cupboard to grasp a glass.

You never got to reach it, though, not as you felt Sosuke’s fingers tangle in your hair and straining your neck back to face him. It was not a brutal grip, it was firm yet gentle. His breath was warm against your earlobe. Caged between the counter and his body, you did not move an inch, only curling your hands around the edge of the forniture. This could not go on. Was he going to jump on you at any given occasion?

“Sosuke—” you warned him, voice too soft for your own likings, but he hushed you.

“Go back into your body”.

“What—”.

“I don’t like to repeat myself” Sosuke demanded, before delicately nudging you towards the living room, his grip on your hair now gone completely. You had no idea of what he wanted, or why, but you just followed his instructions, slowly entering back into your real body, that was lying onto the floor at his feet. It was just for your sake, not to hear him bitching around any longer. This was what you told yourself.

Staring up at him from this position, you blinked up at Sosuke. You tried to understand what he wanted, the reason behind such a request, and you sat up, but the way he eagerly knelt next to you to grasp your jaw left you startled.

“What’s your deal now? We have tons of shit to do, we cannot waste our time like that” you protested, only for Sosuke to lean his face closer to yours and causing your breath to hitch in your throat. You expected a kiss, foolishly, a kiss that never came, but you ended up being asked a question that left you speechless.

His thumb played with your bottom lip, the pad running over it as he spoke “I need you to tell me if you taste his cum in your mouth”.

You stared at him with wide eyes, your mouth hanging open “Sosuke, what the fuck—”.

He cut you off, once again, getting on your nerves as he clamped your mouth shut forcefully “Focus on what you taste on your tongue” he insisted, making your blood boil in your veins. You did not even want to think about what Kisuke and Ran had been up to and now here he was, asking you to concentrate to detect the slightest taste of Kisuke’s release in your mouth.

You scoffed, fist clenching, while you tried to punch him straight on the nose. His large hand engulfing it, though, made you halt and you bristled in annoyance. He did not even have the rights to ask you about such a thing, let alone possibly feeling pissed about it.

“You are sick, you know that?” you bitterly fired back, only to suddenly realise you actually felt a sour taste in the back of your throat. Your brows furrowed, nose scrunching up as you inhaled sharply through your nose. Well, how ironic it was Kisuke had really come down Ran’s throat, while in your body? Awesome!

You stood up abruptly, Sosuke’s jaw clenching, obviously putting the pieces together “Wash your teeth. I don’t want to smell that stench in your mouth” he coldly asserted, only for you to turn around again and jab your finger at him.

“Hey, that’s my life, my body, my choices. I already made it painly clear that I did not appreciate what’s happened. I don’t need you to boss me around, or defend me” you blurted out, heart thrumming against your ribcage so violently you thought you were going to pass out. Genuinely frustrated, full of rage, mostly irritation for your own feelings, for the things you wished had never happened and the ones you actually would have loved to become true, you cussed under your back.

You hated how he acted like your boyfriend at times, how a friend would, and how possessive he had grown to be through the time you spent together. Your standards had been molded on him, on what he had let you see that one time you really met him before you were even dragged to the Soul Society and for the good man he had let you believe he was.

“You only ever blame everything on me, do you? Is that because it’s easier to hate me than hating your own feelings?” he dispassionately replied, not moving an inch from where he was standing.

If a blade had went clean through your heart, it would have hurt less than his words. Why did he always have to be right? Why did he read you so easily, bringing out all of your fears and thoughts you pushed in the back of your mind?

Your mouth felt like chalk. Standing a few feet away from him, you bit the insides of your cheeks not to lash out and show more vulnerability to the very man who had made mind control his job.

“I won’t stand here and listen to you give me a sermon about feelings, when you can’t even cope with yours” you mumbled, staggering towards the bathroom before tears could spill out from your eyes.

“I heard you liked reading. That’s my private collection. You can come here whenever you want” Sosuke said, standing right beside you in the middle of a large library. Glass bookcases were outlined all around you two, ladders pushed against each of them, crystal chandeliers were hanging from the ceiling above your heads.

You would have never imagined Las Noches hid such a magnificent room within its walls. You were genuinely in awe, your eyes wandering in every angle of the room to explore it. Who had told him you enjoyed reading? Probably, just like he had done with your brother, he had studied each and every move of yours.

“Do you come here often?” you asked him, hand gliding over the smooth surface of a desk, not a grain of dust coated your fingers. He probably sent his servants to clean up the place regularly. A man of power and control who loved stability would have never let his posessions decay.

“Quite often, yes” he replied promptly, keeping a comfortable distance between you two, albeit his eyes never left your frame. He had learned everything about you. Your body language, your reactions to certain provocations, your likings even.

You sighed, turning around to face him “Why would I come here, risking to bump into you then?” quirking your eyebrow up expectantly. After all, you would have rather avoided meeting him more than it was stri ctly necessary. While reading a novel could provide you a form of escapism, his presence would have not helped you relax.

Sosuke faintly smiled, a rare one, before looking straight at an undefined point ahead of him “Because humans make sacrifices for love. I believe you would be persistent enough to keep on reading, if I supposedly ruined your moment of peace with my presence”.

Smart man. He always knew exactly what to do and say.

You straightened your back, resting the small of your back against the edge of the desk “And what do you know about love? You are the last person I expect to talk about human passions. If you can’t feel it, you can’t describe it”.

“Pretty arrogant assertion, Y/N. Why would you say my knowledge of feelings doesn’t come from experience?” he asked you in return, hands behind his back as if he was having just a common conversation.

“Because you can’t feel love. You never did, you never will and surely you don’t feel it now. — you confidently replied, eyes locked with his whilst he listened to you in interest — Your data are the product of the empiric observations of people you met, or novels you have read” you bitterly punctuated.

Maybe you wished to be correct. You really did, but Sosuke never told you if you were right, nor if you were wrong. He simply smiled again, closing his eyes for a few seconds before leaving you there, alone in one of his favorite places, a place he never allowed people to explore.

In the end, you were brilliant, but not observant.

To bring you back to reality was the doorbell ringing. Who could it be now? Considering Kisuke had left and your father did not even knoq you were back yet, you found yourself sprinting out of the bathroom in a rush. You could not risk Sosuke messing up your life by interacting with whomever was requiring your presence. By the time you reached the front door, though, you felt your stomach churn. Sosuke had already opened the door and was apparently striking up a cordial conversation with your obnoxious neighbour who loved gossip. Of course she had to barge in today.

“Mrs. Watanabe, it’s good to see you” you stated, approaching Sosuke, who made space for you to stand next to him on the threshold. Now, the real question was: what the Hell did Sosuke tell her?

“There she is. — the woman piped out, displaying a fake smile that made you want to headbutt her — As I was saying to this handsome man, I did not mean to interrupt anything, but I wanted to ask you if you could be a dear and watch over my daughter tomorrow. I have important matters to take care of and I won’t be home until late in the evening” the woman said, eyeing you suspiciously.

The urge to escape into the Soul Society was quite strong as you suppressed a big ‘go fuck yourself’ threatening to leave your mouth. Instead, you smiled at her and nodded your head “Yes, of course. I’ll be glad to help a fellow woman” you stated, flinching as she bursted out laughing in her typical enervating high-pitched tone that you loathed oh so much.

“Oh, thanks, dear! You know, with the amount of boys I’ve seen come and go from your flat the past few weeks, I thought you were way too busy and tired to watch over Aoi!” the hag chortled, your eye twitching as you scoffed.

Ran. What the Hell had that mod-soul done?

It was time for Sosuke to step in, however, as he cleared his throat “I beg your pardon, ma’am, but my girlfriend and I are quite busy now. I have recently decided to move in her flat and we have to unbox my stuff” Sosuke smoothly interjected, watching the way the woman in front of you gaped at the unexpected news.

My girlfriend and I. My girlfriend and I.

It took you way too long to react and let his words sink in, his arm was already enveloping your waist, pulling you against his chest. He had really screwed up this time. You wanted to protest, you really did, but, when you opened your mouth and no words came out of it, all you could do was watching in horror the way he waved his hand at the woman and the door closed with a click. Panic. You were absolutely going to explode right on that spot as you shoved him off of you roughly, hand gripping the collar of his white shirt to make him lean down at your level.

“I had fucking told you not to interfer with my life. What the Hell did you just do?” you hissed through gritted teeth, whilst he smiled down at you in his own special way. In the way that had made you blush, the first time you met.

Sosuke hummed “She implied you were a whore. I saved your reputation” he defended himself, before grasping your wrist delicately and nudging you towards the wall.

Your back flattened against it, his hands pinning yours above your head as he let his nose brush against yours “Unless you would like to feed her fantasy and let her spread the news you are, indeed, a cheap whore. In that case, I can fuck you hard enough to make your throat burn for the screams you will let out” he whispered, before stepping back all of a sudden and leaving you slump down onto the floor with your cheeks on fire and your breath labored.

Shunsui Kyoraku was going to be responsible for your death, for Sosuke was gradually poisoning you.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! Thanks to everyone who is invested in this story! Your support is greatly appreciated, really. Getting down to business, what do you think of Urahara and Ran? I know she was technically in our body, but it was necessary in order to get a certain reaction from our beloved special threat, oops! I will probably give Ran a proper body, beside the plushie form ✨ Also, seeing the reader dealing with a kid will give Sosuke ideas. Trust me.

Until next,

x o x o

TAGS: @pseudowho @seireiteihellbutterfly @onyxino @areyouflying @bakugosgirl01 @noirfan12 @velaenaa

[sl-ut]

ceilings

PART TWO

GUYS I DONT THINK YOU UNDERSTAND HOW AMAZING THE RESPONSE TO THE FIRST PART OF THIS WAS!!!! IM ACTUALLY SO SORRY FOR MAKING YOU ALL WAIT LIKE FIVE MONTHS FOR PT 2 BUT HERE IT IS!!! I REWROTE IT LIKE SEVEN TIMES SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT (its not exactly how i wanted it to be but its here so pls stop harassing me ab it lol) (jk i love being harassed by you guys) (love u all)

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

description: ellie is put on the spot, but it seems that her choice has already been made.

warnings: MENTIONS AND (non-explicit) DEPICTIONS OF DOMESTIC AND CHILD ABUSE, swearing, allusions to nsfw situations, misogyny, alcohol consumption, mentions of guns, ellie is stupid af

words: 8.7K

date posted: 18/11/23

part one

From a very young age, Y/n had developed a deep understanding in regards to her place in the world. Girls like her did not ride out into the face of danger, nor did they scour the ruins of what was once a flourishing society for even the slightest chance of survival. Girls like her did not fight or talk back, instead they were quiet and followed orders so that someone might feel inclined to protect them. She had learned these lessons from no one other than her father. 

He had never been a kind man; the type that would send even the bravest of souls running the other way with his piercing stare and bulging muscles. He had started off with a considerably large group, only to find himself off on his own all thanks to his frighteningly short temper and his alcoholic tendencies. For a few years, he wandered through the woods on his own, tearing his way through small survivalist groups as if he, himself, had been infected, until he came across a young woman hiding out in an abandoned motel. Unlike usual, he hadn’t immediately reached for his blade at the sight of her, and instead found himself feeling in need of some human contact after so much time on his own, and offered her his protection for the nonrefundable price of her body. Scared, alone, and hungry, Y/n’s mother was quick to fall into routine with the man, finding comfort under his protection and returning it whenever he saw fit. 

Y/n often tried to imagine the man who had been so frightening to anyone who crossed his path; Almost as wide as he was tall, rippling muscles beneath weathered and scarred skin, a seemingly permanent sneer carved into his face. It was difficult to picture him as such, especially when he had been so unwell since they had arrived in Jackson. He’d been bitter since that very day, never wanting to feel like he might be indebted to somebody else, though Y/n’s mother had convinced him that neither of them would be able to survive the winter this year, especially considering that Y/n had contracted a terrible cough and was showing signs of oncoming pneumonia. To this day, he made it very clear that he only chose to stay because he knew that there was no chance of convincing Y/n’s mother to leave her behind. The years hadn’t been kind to him–the sudden transition from living on the run to such a comfortable life caused a dramatic physical transformation, and allowed his age to finally catch up to him. 

Her father was among the most humiliating parts of her life in Jackson, everyone recognising him immediately to be a raging old fool who was all-too reliant on the bottle to take away the pain of his aching bones. He’d also settled more comfortably into his role of a deadbeat husband and father, finding Y/n and her mother to be even more irritating now than when they relied on him for everything; they’d both been left to cover up bruises with clothing and excuses of clumsiness rather than admit where they’d really come from. 

Her relationship with her mother was almost more difficult to explain. 

From the time that Y/n was old enough to remember, her mother had been telling her that their lives were owed to her father in every sense of the matter. Y/n’s mother didn’t hate her, that much was clear, but it was also very plain to see that she considered her daughter to be quite a disruption of her life. Things had been much easier before she had been born–all that she needed to do to survive was to make herself available for his use and boost his ego, now she needed to not only fend for herself, but fend for her child as well. Y/n’s father had no emotional or moral obligations to her, and had even tried to leave her behind after they’d figured out that she’d been knocked up. After Y/n was born, he still considered dumping the two of them–what kind of use would a woman be if there was the chance of her getting pregnant again? It was only because of some kind of divine blessing that he found it within himself to keep them around. After coming to Jackson, her loyalty to him never strayed, and the slight resentment that she already harboured for her child grew.

Y/n fit into the everyday routine of Jackson residents almost too easily. She quickly came to enjoy the new aspects of her life in the commune such as school, taking part in daily chores, community events, and most of all, interacting with her peers. They were all so kind to her, praising her when she did well at something, and comforting her when she didn’t. People told her she was pretty and smart and funny, all of the things that her parents did not. She did not need to resort to loaning out her body for a meal, nor did she need to cower in the face of safety. At school, boys flocked to her every whim, because they genuinely wanted her, not because she was playing into their sick mind games in hopes of survival. Things such as praise, safety, and happiness were handed to Y/n so easily, while her mother had to fight tooth and nail for them. The complex relationship between Y/n and her family could not easily be explained, but those native to the commune had quickly come to their own conclusions about the trio.

Things did not remain as easy for Y/n as she had once seen them as. Those unfiltered adoring comments of pretty and smart, quickly led down a dark path and became dumb and slut and fat. There was a pattern in her life, all of those who started with the kind words would always end up saying the others at some point, though it wasn’t until Dina began saying them that it truly bothered her.  

Everything that Y/n was to the people in Jackson, Dina was too, only better. She was the kind of girl who couldn’t be stopped when she put her mind to something, and was loyal to the very end, which is what made it so difficult when she turned her back on Y/n. 

There were very few limits that Y/n had when it came to the brunette girl. She was the type of person whose laughter could warm the soul, and whose praise was comparable to a badge of honour. Y/n would take up new hobbies or interests, even some things that she never really even liked in order to have more things in common with her, and at one point, would have considered her to be her closest friend; Each time a new boy broke her heart, Dina was there to comfort her; Each time her father grabbed her a little too tightly, Dina would force her to spend the night and help her ice her bruises. There was quite literally nothing in the world that Y/n wouldn’t do for her, something she had never felt for anyone, ever, until Jesse came into the picture. 

He was the first guy their age who hadn’t shown an immediate interest in Y/n, which was quite refreshing, so she made no opposition when Dina suggested that they invite him to hang out. The first pinch of regret came a few weeks later when her friend finally confessed her feelings for Jesse. With every guy that had ever been around her, she’d never felt an ounce of jealousy when it came to other girls.

Until then. 

***

Ellie has never felt longing like this before. Of course, she had experienced the embarrassingly naïveness that came along with having a crush on someone before, both with Cat and briefly with Dina, but she had never genuinely felt what it was like to want someone in the soul-crushing way that came with the early stages of love, let alone with someone who made it quite clear that they wanted nothing to do with Ellie. Her bed felt much colder than it ever had before, and nights seemed to drag on rather than how she used to pray for just a few extra minutes. She couldn’t help but wonder how she had managed to fuck up everything up so badly that withing a few days, she had gone from wanting to keep her relationship a secret to wondering if she even was in a relationship anymore.

Well, to be completely fair, Ellie had made it quite clear to Y/n time and time again that they were most certainly not girlfriends. They were just two girls who had romantic interest in one another who spent most of their time together doing things that girlfriends might do with one another. But they definitely weren’t dating, so it really shouldn’t have bothered her when she began to notice the attention that Y/n had been receiving from the new girl. 

It was rare for Ellie to see either of them apart from one another. In fact, Y/n seemed to have made a genuine and successful effort in avoiding Ellie as much as possible in the days that had passed since they had last spoken at the Tipsy Bison. She would spot her from afar sometimes, walking in stride with her seemingly new best friend, and would watch her from a distance until her figure disappeared out of sight. On the odd occasion where Y/n’s shift in the stables lined up with Ellie’s patrol, Shimmer’s reins would be silently handed over to her, accompanied only with a blank stare and deaf ears when Ellie attempted any sort of small talk. When this happened, Ellie’s pale cheeks flushed red and her shoulders slumped in embarrassment as she tried to ignore Jesse’s awkward chuckling. 

The only thing that made it worse was the undeniable fact that Erin had publicly staked some sort of claim over Y/n. In public, she was unashamed to be near her, to touch her, and to speak to her. She didn’t feel the need to pull her into dark corners just to utter a few words, and she didn’t seem put off by any sort of reputation or rumours being spread about herself just from being seen with her. Ellie felt almost territorial when it came to Y/n, in a way she truly never had before. Any time that she noticed one or both or Erin’s hands to slip across Y/n’s waist or lower back, the auburn haired girl had to rely on her last shred of sanity not to rush over and beat her to a pulp or tear her hand right off. For the unforeseeable future, Ellie decided that her best course of action would be to become as much of a hermit as possible, even thinking as far as asking Jesse to bring her dinner every night to avoid the dining hall, though she knew better; Her friends would be utterly useless in helping her in this situation, as Dina didn’t even know what was going on and Jesse, well…

The boy had been fairly understanding of Ellie’s feelings on the situation. He knew firsthand how his own girlfriend felt about Y/n, even more in detail than Ellie did. He admitted to her that he genuinely liked Y/n, but chose to avoid her purely out of respect for Dina, though made sure to tell her what an idiot Ellie had been if she actually had feelings for her. He had successfully perfected the art of tough love, and made sure that Ellie felt every bit of it.

She truly hadn’t been looking forward to her patrol shift with Jesse, knowing that it would be nothing more than yet another therapy session; what Dina was mad at him for this week, the crazy dream he had last night, the weird bump on his ass… Only this time, there was a much larger issue at hand that turned the need for therapy to Ellie rather than him, and she knew that there was practically nothing that could have prevented Doctor Jesse, LMHC from joining her that morning. 

“You know, I really don’t think it’s as big of a deal as you think it is.”

Ellie shook her head, “Says you. You see Y/n walking your way and you run the other direction.” 

“Well, you know how Dina is.”

She sent him a pointed glare.

“For me, that is.” He continued, “I’m her boyfriend.”

“And I’m her best friend.”

Jesse tilted his head with raised brows, “Meaning that you are irreplaceable. Me, on the other hand, could be replaced by anyone given the chance that Dina’s standards suddenly go up. Will she be pissed? Definitely, but there’s no way that she would ever wanna stop being friends with you over this.”

Ellie wasn’t sure whether this was the most intelligent or idiotic thing that Jesse had ever said. She certainly hoped that her relationship with Dina was strong enough that anyone that she would be looking to pursue romantically would not be too much of an issue, though the dark-haired girl tended to be quite unpredictable and Ellie couldn’t rely on hope. Dina was the first friend that she had made in Jackson, the first person who didn’t treat her like a wild animal who’d been spooked, the first person who actually accepted her into the community. How could she risk losing her?

“And not to light a fire under your ass or anything,” he sent her a pointed look, “But word on the street is that she and Erin are getting pretty close, if you know what I mean.”

Ellie narrowed her eyes at him, “Oh, fuck you. ‘Word on the street,’ my ass. As far as everyone else knows, she doesn’t even like girls. By next week, the rumours will start and then everything will be back to normal. I guess it’s my own fault for thinking that–” She coughed and cut herself off.

“For thinking that she actually liked you?” Jesse finished for her, smirking at the dangerous glare that wordlessly confirmed his thoughts. “Have you ever considered that maybe she feels the same way?” There was a beat of silence before he continued, “Think about it, every guy in Jackson told her the same things you probably did, and the second they got what they wanted…”

“No, I’m not like those fuckers. I never told anyone anything about what happened between us. Those guys, she told me that half of the stuff they say about her isn’t even true.”

“So is spreading rumours really that much more hurtful than being too embarrassed that you were even together?”

Was it? This whole time, she had been consoling herself with the idea that she would be better than the others–all of those guys who called her a slut behind her back, all of those guys who used her for her body, the guys who stole away pieces of her until she genuinely had very little respect for herself to prevent anyone from hurting her like that again, Ellie included. Especially when, during the last few days, Ellie had been no better, wondering how much Y/n could’ve liked her at all if she was moving on so fast, wondering if all of those rumours might have had some kind of truth to them at all. There she was, throwing herself a pity party over her unrequited feelings, when she had been the one who had been emotionally unavailable, not Y/n. 

“Am I good, or what?” Jesse laughed, “Seriously, do you think Maria would be open to starting a therapy business in Jackson?” 

“Or what,” Ellie responded a moment later, “But she might, God knows I’ll need a session after this.”

***

Y/n had always had it in the back of her mind that everything happened for a reason. Every bruise was a fight that she survived, every sickness was a reminder that she was still alive, and every heartbreak was a love that simply wasn’t meant to be–a sign that the one was still out there. A large part of her wanted it to be Ellie, even more so than how she wanted it to be every guy that came before her. Y/n thought that Ellie was different than the others, she didn’t just smile charmingly as whisper pretty words before going off on her merry way, instead preferring to stay in bed for a while after they would sleep together, actually listening to what she had to say and responding in a way that let her know that she was genuinely interested. 

But alas, Ellie had been no better than the rest. Of course, Y/n had been used to this kind of thing, so there was a bit of a routine that she’d gotten used to. It was worse this time, though, even worse than the very first–but the routine was strict, and didn’t allow her to shed any more tears than she could help, and so the cycle began again. 

Y/n wasn’t stupid, despite what the others said, and she could very easily see what Erin wanted from her, though she was determined to make this time different. If she was fated to undergo the same heartache time and time again, she would hold it off as long as she possibly could. Any attempt made by the blonde to take their relationship further than a friendship would be ignored until Y/n decides that she was ready for it, though the ease that she found when it came to swerving her advances began to bring up another question in her mind; Was she really that interested in Erin? Or was she really that desperate for attention that she was willing to jump to the next person who even glanced in her direction? 

The question gnawed on her for days. Everytime Erin touched her, it felt as if someone had brought flame to her flesh, and not even in the same way that it had been with Ellie, nor any of the others that came before. Perhaps she was simply just more aware of the issue at hand than she had been before–that much was undeniable at this point. She made a real effort to put a bit of distance between Erin and herself, deciding that, if something were to happen between them, it wouldn’t be quite so easy as it had been in the past. She could tell that this bothered Erin to some degree; Her pink lips always turned into a scowl when she wouldn’t receive any more than a peck, and her wandering hands often caused the girl to stiffen, but she had yet to say anything about it, instead putting on a sickeningly sweet smile and changing the subject to something much more lighthearted. 

It would seem that Erin was less discreet about their relationship with other Jackson residents than she was around Y/n. Apparently, it was a hot bit of gossip around Jackson, considering that the girl who had a pretty scandalous reputation when it comes to men seemingly had switched teams. Her sexuality wasn’t exactly a new discovery for herself, but she’d never actually been with another girl until Ellie, and no one even knew about that. Generally, Y/n wasn’t concerned about what other people her age thought of her, as there was very little that they hadn’t already said about her, but the way that she was viewed by the older generations of Jackson residents was something that she was very conscious of. 

She’d had quite a close relationship with Maria for quite some time now, and in turn, Tommy as well. The married couple were the unofficial leaders of Jackson, and often took it upon themselves to check in on those around town that may need a bit of extra help or care. They both viewed her as someone who has overcome quite a lot in the short time that she’d been on Earth, and yet, she was miraculously able to fit into the status quo quite easily. 

A few years after he arrived in Jackson, Tommy’s brother, Joel, took up another caring role within her life, just as he had done with several other Jackson residents who were around her age or younger. Y/n quite liked Joel, and not only because of his close relation to Ellie. In fact, Y/n had somewhat of a friendship started with Joel long before she had even spoken to Ellie for the first time, finding some comfort in his unshakeable fatherly instincts; Offering her a small cup of precious coffee or another sweater when he noticed a tremble in the cold, or a gentle reminder that she could tell him about anybody giving her a hard time. He once told her that she reminded him of a stray cat, constantly showing up on his doorstep time and time again after he’d given her a scrap of food once, and now he was forced to practically adopt her as a consequence of his actions. There was hardly anything that she wouldn’t tell him, which was why she was quite excited when Tommy suggested that she start out her paired patrolling duties with him at her side. 

Joel was mostly quiet on patrols, usually offering small grunts in response her pestering questions or a stifled laugh, doing his best to seem unimpressed with her foolishness, but unable to hide the admiration he seemed to have for the young girl who seemed so unfazed by the things she had been forced to face in this world. He always made sure to ask her about her own wellbeing, usually when they would stop to pick at the sandwiches that Maria had packed for them.

“Anyone givin’ you any trouble?” He would always ask, quickly followed up by, “Aside from what you go lookin’ for, that is.”

At this, she would usually give him a little explanation of her personal life; Who she had spoken to the day before, who she thought was nice and who wasn’t… Joel wasn’t usually one for gossip, but he didn’t mind having to listen to her drone on about what the Jackson youths were up to lately, especially when it may or may not concern Ellie. 

“And your daddy?” He always asked her this at some point or another. It was no secret around Jackson that her father wasn’t exactly the nicest guy around, especially towards his daughter, nor was her mother doing much to look out for her. “He treating you and your momma alright?”

Her lips tightened into a grimace, stuffing a large bite of her sandwich into her mouth, “Same as always.”

“He hurtin’ you at all? You know if he is–”

“He isn’t. Not since last time.” She affirmed, peering intently down at the half-mauled sandwich in her lap, “Besides, you’ve got bigger fish to fry; Don’t think I haven’t heard about Miss Gonzalez bringing you that apple pie last week.”

“It was pecan, actually.” Joel groaned, shaking his head and hiding his smirk, “You’re talkin’ to me about my love life?”

Y/n chewed her bottom lip, “Didn’t take you as the type to listen to rumours, Miller.”

“‘M not talkin’ about any rumours.” He gave her a firm look, one that knew far more than she had expected. “A girl as smart as you can’t’ve forgotten whose backyard you’ve been sleeping over in.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He rolled his eyes, “‘M not tryin’ to pry, I only mean…fuck. All ‘m tryin’ to say is that I think you make her happy. I know she and I aren’t exactly in the best place, but that’s all I want for her. Startin’ to think she makes you pretty happy, too.”

“Yeah, well,” Y/n scoffed, trying to reign in any bitterness she felt towards the girl, “Not happy enough.” She forced the remainder of her sandwich into her mouth, her words coming out muffled, “Let’s get moving, it’s gonna be dark soon.”

***

Y/n had always had it in the back of her mind that everything meant something. Every bruise was a fight that she survived, every sickness was a reminder that she was still alive, and every heartbreak was a love that simply wasn’t meant to be–a sign that the one was still out there. A large part of her wanted it to be Ellie, even more so than how she wanted it to be every guy that came before her. Y/n thought that Ellie was different than the others, she didn’t just smile charmingly as whisper pretty words before going off on her merry way, instead preferring to stay in bed for a while after they would sleep together, actually listening to what she had to say and responding in a way that let her know that she was genuinely interested. 

But alas, Ellie had been no better than the rest. Of course, Y/n had been used to this kind of thing, so there was a bit of a routine that she’d gotten used to. It was worse this time, though, even worse than the very first–but the routine was strict, and didn’t allow her to shed any more tears than she could help, and so the cycle began again. 

Y/n wasn’t stupid, despite what the others said, and she could very easily see what Erin wanted from her, though she was determined to make this time different. If she was fated to undergo the same heartache time and time again, she would hold it off as long as she possibly could. Any attempt made by the blonde to take their relationship further than a friendship would be ignored until Y/n decides that she was ready for it, though the ease that she found when it came to swerving her advances began to bring up another question in her mind; Was she really that interested in Erin? Or was she really that desperate for attention that she was willing to jump to the next person who even glanced in her direction? 

The question gnawed at her silently as she waited patiently for Erin to return with her second drink. She hadn’t really been in the mood to drink that night, but it was either that or be left alone with her thoughts, and they had been less than kind towards her lately. But going to the Tipsy Bison also heightened her chances of coming face to face with Ellie again, and she wasn’t entirely sure of how to act if she were to confront her again, just as she had last time. 

Her fingers scraped at the sticky residue that had been smeared across the tabletop, shoulders hunched and eyes cast downwards to avoid drawing any additional attention to herself. Her mind felt hazy, likely a combination of the little food she’d consumed that day and the drink that she’d already finished, leaving her blissfully unaware of the attention that she actually was receiving. It was different from the way that people normally looked at her, either in awe or resentment, instead proving a general concern for the girl who would normally be jumping to be in the middle of the dance floor or joining the few musicians in Jackson on stage for a song or two. This girl was very different from the latter, the charming smile that she would normally wear had turned into a small pout, and her normally wide and wondrous eyes were dull and bored. 

A hand touched her shoulder, drawing her out of the daze that she hadn’t even realised that she’d been in. Maria appeared at her side, a warm smile on her lips as she scanned the surprised expression of the younger woman, soon followed by her husband.

“Oh,” Y/n shook her head slightly as her posture straightened, “Hey, Maria, Tommy.” 

“Y/n,” Tommy nodded at her, “How you doin’ tonight?”

She shrugged in response, “Good.”

Maria squeezed her shoulder, “You sure? Are you feeling alright? You look a little pale.”

Y/n suppressed the minor tug of annoyance at their persistence, “Fine. Just a little tired.” 

The couple shared a knowing glance. Y/n was not the first girl in Jackson to hold the kind of reputation that she did, though very few others had their entire lives put out on display for the rest of town to judge. People talk, and between their words and the physical state that she was in, there was nothing that she could do or say to make them believe her. 

Tommy cleared his throat, “Heard you did well out on patrol today. Joel’s thinkin’ that a little while longer ‘n you’ll be on your way to doin’ it full time. That sound good?”

Y/n didn’t go on patrol often, but anyone who was physically capable of going was put on the schedule at least once a rotation. Having not been out too many times, she tended to get paired up with others who truly knew what they were doing, though Joel Miller seemed to be her main partner, which was an especially bizarre situation considering that Ellie was practically his daughter, no matter how impossibly strained their relationship may have been. Joel had always been nice to her, never too harsh when she made mistakes, nor was he a major softie who let her away with shit. Things had been a bit tense one morning when they had run into one another before their patrol in his backyard, where she had been sneaking out of Ellie’s garage-turned home in the early hours of the morning. It was a bit of an unspoken understanding of each other–both had fallen into the bittersweet situation of caring just a little too much about Ellie Williams. 

It made her chest swell knowing that he’d been praising her to his brother, but if he’d truly been bringing up the little bit of good that she’d done, he’d surely growled about how clumsy she’d been after their converstation, falling off her horse, losing the map to the wind…Hell, she’d almost shot him on accident from sneezing! Of course, even Joel Miller would be talking poorly about her behind her back, just like everyone else.

“That all he said?” She asked, tired eyes turning to the man.

He shrugged, adjusting his belt buckle uncomfortably as he shifted his weight, “That’s the gist of it, anyways. Say, you wouldn’t mind filling in on the late morning shift tomorrow, would ya? Eugene’s got a stomach bug and can’t seem to go more than twenty minutes without…well, you know.”

She tilted her head, glancing between the married couple in confusion. She’d never been asked to take on a patrol shift more than once every three weeks, let alone twice within a few days of each other. 

“I know you aren’t normally on the schedule this regularly, and I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t in such a bind.”

“I mean, I don’t really mind, but I’m supposed to work in the stables tomorrow.”

Another figure appeared before anyone else could speak, the loud clink of two glasses hitting the table as Erin’s smiling face filled Y/n’s vision. 

“What’d I miss?” She asked, eyes shifting between the couple and the girl she’d walked away from only minutes earlier. She slid a glass across the table to Y/n, who eagerly accepted it and took a large gulp. 

“Not much, Tommy was just telling us about how great Y/n was on patrol yesterday.” Maria smiled, patting her shoulder gently. 

Erin turned to Y/n with an amused grin, “Oh yeah?”

“So great that she’s even taking over Eugene’s shift tomorrow. I’d say she’s on her way to becoming a big hot shot around here,” Maria grinned, “Everyone will be talking about you soon enough.”

“More than they already do, you mean,” Erin chuckled, completely ignorant to the glance that both Tommy and Maria sent her as she turned to Y/n with furrowed brows, “And here I was all excited to work together in the stables tomorrow morning.”

Y/n glanced down at the amber liquid in her glass before downing it all in one gulp, cheeks beaming with embarrassment, “I mean, it’s an emergency. I really don’t mind, and I don’t think the horses will miss me too much.”

Tommy nodded, thanking Y/n once more before guiding Maria away with a hand on her lower back, departing from the pair with a farewell before disappearing into the crowd. Y/n’s eyes followed them until they couldn’t anymore, then found themselves locked onto an eerily familiar gaze. Ellie leaned against the opposite side of the bar, clad in her favourite black flannel and nursing her own drink as she blatantly ignored Jesse and Dina as they bickered playfully next to her. She seemed a bit surprised when their eyes met, but offered her a small nod as a greeting. Y/n’s brain scanned through all of her options; She could have run over to her, jumped into her arms and announced her love, she could have turned to Erin and chose to make Ellie jealous, but instead, she simply looked away.

“You okay?” Erin’s hand graced the small of her back, her body suddenly closer than she had previously been. “Shit, you feel kinda warm. You’re not sick, are you?”

Y/n shook her head, finally glancing back to the blonde girl at her side, “I’m fine, just tired. Maybe a little tipsy.”

Erin’s laugh sounded like wind chimes as it fell from her lips, “A little? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you down two drinks so quickly.” Her eyes fluttered, hooded eyelids drooping as she lowered her voice, “If you’re not having fun, we can always leave early.” 

The game she was playing was a dangerous one. She’d been down this road before, leaving early and spending the next few hours wrapped up in their sheets. Not this time, though, she decided as she nodded, allowing Erin to lead her out of the bar and into the empty, dimly lit streets. The walk was quiet, their fingers laced together to keep each other grounded, and Y/n didn’t miss the sideways glances being sent her way. Her doorstep finally came into view, and she knew that she needed to come up with a plan.

“This is me,” she sighed, moving to unlace their fingers and make a quick escape before her back was pressed firmly against the railing of the doorstep, “Thanks for walking me.”

“Hey,” Erin’s fingers latched onto her chin, turning her gaze up to meet her own, “Can I come in? We can just… I don’t know, hang out?”

Y/n’s cheeks warmed at her sly grin, and the alcohol was telling her to agree, “I don’t know, my parents are here.”

“We could go to my place?” The blonde suggested hopefully, “My brother won’t be home till later, and I really don’t wanna say goodbye yet.”

“Erin–”

“You look so pretty tonight,” she continued, her thumb rising to trace over Y/n’s bottom lip lightly. Her eyes narrowed, focusing on the curve of her lips intently before she finally lurched forward and connected them to her own. 

For a moment, Y/n let it happen. This was her safe place, her routine, and it was difficult for her to deny herself of it regardless of what she felt towards Erin. Finally, she leaned her head back, parting from her with a wet noise and a sniffle. Her eyes burned with the oncoming tears, tears that she couldn’t even begin to explain or understand.

“Come back with me,” Erin whispered.

“I just–I’m really tired.”

“We can go to bed,” Erin smirked.

“Seriously, Erin. I’m like, really, really tired.”

An annoyed expression cracked across her features quicker than Y/n was even able to comprehend, as if she had been masking it the whole time, “Really? You’re still playing this little game of yours?”

Y/n tilted her head in confusion, “What?”

“Don’t act so innocent,” The blonde sneered, taking a step back and placing her hands firmly on her hips, “You’ve been stringing me along this whole time. I don’t know who told you that this little innocent act was cute, because it’s really not, nor is it very convincing. I mean, what’s keeping you from putting out like you’ve done with everyone else?”

“Excuse me?” A tear slid down Y/n’s cheek.

Erin shook her head, scoffing at her as she turned around, stalking off into the night without another word, leaving behind a trembling figure in the darkness as the creaking of the front door echoed in the silence.

“You got something you wanna tell me?”

***

Ellie couldn’t figure out which was worse, the blistering heat inside the bar or the bitter winter air that flooded her veins the moment that she stepped out into the street. For a split second, she almost followed the instinct to retreat back inside and find refuge in the warmth before remembering exactly what had brought her out into the cold to begin with.

The Tipsy Bison was busy that night, bodies colliding as drunken Jackson residents laughed and partied amongst one another. Ellie found herself in need of a drink, preferably in the largest glass she could find after the week she’d had. Jesse hadn’t given up on his desire to be her personal therapist, even though she’d been entirely unwilling to give him any more information on her love life than she already had, and had been prompting her to go off and find Y/n all evening. 

Find her, was a poor choice of words, considering that Ellie had clocked her the second that she had set foot into the pub. More accurately, Jesse was eager to see her march over and confess her undying love in front of the whole of Jackson–Dina included. 

There were times throughout the evening where she thought that their eyes might actually meet. The idea should have scared her, considering that she had absolutely no clue what she might do if she ever came face to face with Y/n again, and yet she found herself moving around as subtly as possible in hopes of catching her attention. Ellie’s mind kept drifting off to the constant question of whether or not Y/n had mourned what they had, or perhaps what could have been. She had moved on rather quickly, always being found with Erin not too far behind, though her appearance was not what it usually was; her normally tamed and styled hair was quite messy, and she wore muted colours in comparison to the bright, eye-catching shades of her favourite shirts. 

She watched in silence over the entire evening, making sure to offer the occasional laugh or jab at Jesse’s expense to avoid being called out, though it would be impossible to avoid the all-knowing expanse of Dina’s watchful eye.

“Who’re you looking at?”

Ellie’s head snapped to the side, finding her friend leaning across to get a better look. The auburn haired girl shook her head, pushing her back gently, “Nothing. No one.”

Dina scoffed, “Oh please, you’ve got some kind of look going on right now. Who is it? Please don’t say it’s Cat.”

“God, no, it’s not Cat.” Ellie glanced down at her drink.

Dina leaned across Ellie’s body again to get a better look, eyes falling on the slouched figure that sat directly in her line of sight, “Then who–oh. Please don’t tell me you’re looking at who I think you’re looking at.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, “Jesus, what does it matter?”

“Ellie,” her tone mimicked a young mother who had just caught her child red-handed, “You know what it matters. Don’t do it.”

“I’m literally not doing anything.”

“No, but you’re thinking about it.”

“About what?” Ellie’s tone had a sharp edge to it as annoyance twisted her stomach. On top of the other shit that she was dealing with this week, she was not exactly in the mood to deal with Dina’s judgement. 

Dina stared at her in disbelief, emotions running across her face quicker than the speed of light–confusion, annoyance, and then finally, anger. She shook her head, taking a long swig out of her glass before speaking, “About seeing if the rumours are true, going where literally every other guy has gone before.”

Jesse coughed, inserting himself into the tense conversation between his best friend and girlfriend, “Not every guy.”

Both females sent him a silencing glare before turning back to one another.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic, still freaking out about something that happened years ago?” Ellie insisted, “If it’s so bad, then why doesn’t anybody talk about it? Jesus, even she wouldn’t tell me.”

“Oh, so you’ve been talking to her?” Dina scowled. 

“Am I not allowed to?” Ellie challenged, knees wobbling underneath her as she pushed herself off of the bartop behind her. Of course, the drinks she had would make themselves known now of all times, when she needed to at least be sober enough that she wouldn’t end up saying something to her friend that she didn’t really mean. 

The raven haired girl pursed her lips, hands resting on her hips, “I can’t make you do anything, Ellie, but I figured that it’s common decency to not sleep around with people that your best friend hates.”

“I’m not–” Ellie paused, exhaling slowly through her nose as she caught herself from raising her voice any more than she had to, “I’m not just sleeping around with her.”

“But you are sleeping with her?” Dina caught on, “Jesus, Ellie, don’t tell me you fell into her little trap. I figured you’d be smarter than that.”

“Why–don’t change the subject. If you don’t want me hanging around with her, tell me why. If she really did something that horrible to you, I’ll let it go.”

“I shouldn’t have to,” Dina fumed, “You’re my friend, I shouldn’t have to beg you to not hang out with the people I hate. But if it really means that much to you, she convinced me to ask Jesse out, and then tried to steal him from me.”

Jesse blushed sheepishly from behind her, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, “I don’t think she really tried to–”

“So what would you call it then?” She turned sharply towards him, “She told you I didn’t like you, knowing fully well that I did. Why else would she do that?” 

Jesse paused, almost as if he were about to come up with an answer before slowly shrugging, “I don’t know, but I guess you really didn’t get the full story.”

“Why are you defending her now?” She sneered.

“I’m not, I just,” Jesse rushed, seemingly unsure of how to undig the hole he’d gotten himself into, “I don’t think this is something that’s worth fighting over, right? I mean, if Ellie has feelings for someone, shouldn’t we, as her best friends, support her?”

“Feelings?” 

Ellie groaned, glaring at Jesse. Leave it to him to spill every secret she’d ever told him. She downed the remaining whiskey in her glass, wincing at the delicious burn as it slid down her throat before starting marching away from the pair, “I’m not dealing with this shit right now.”

***

Y/n’s cheeks burned under the harsh coldness of the wind. Instantly upon stepping out of her house, she felt a deep mourning for the warmth of her bed and even considered scaling the side of the two story home to sneak in through the window, that way she could have a comfortable and warm place to sleep, but would still need to stay half awake out of fear of being found by her father. Instead, she took quick steps in the opposite direction, barely catching herself as she slipped on the nearly invisible ice that covered the ground.

When she finally stepped into the warmth of the stables, she leaned against the heavy wooden door as it sealed shut behind her and finally let the tears that had been burning her waterline drip down her cheeks. Her breath left her lips in heaving clouds, the air considerably warmer inside the barn than it had been outdoors, but still quite cold. Still, she would likely sleep sounder in the pile of hay in the corner than she would in her own bed.

“Hey, are you–shit, what the fuck happened?”

The last thing that Y/n had expected to happen was to find somebody else in the stables this late at night, let alone to find Ellie there. She had, of course, come around the corner from Shimmer’s stall, having come to find some comfort in her chosen steed after her falling out with Dina. 

“Ellie–”

“Who did this to you?” Her cold fingertips slapped Y/n’s own palms away from her swollen jaw, lightly pressing them into the purple flesh and tilting her head back to examine the dark collar that had begun to bloom around her throat. Y/n’s silence seemed to draw an emotional response from the auburn-haired girl, “Fuck, who did this? Was it Erin?”

“No,” Y/n finally uttered, “Not her.”

“Jesus, come here,” Ellie spoke as if she were giving the girl any option other than to follow her commands, leading her further into the dimly-lit barn to see the full extent of her injuries. 

Y/n felt a deep, uncomfortable sense of insecurity beginning to eat away at any form of confidence she may have had left. Throughout every conversation and intimate moment they’d shared, Y/n had never felt quite as vulnerable as she had when Ellie was able to see through every barrier that had been erected between them. She sat in silence as Ellie poked and prodded at her, digging through the emergency first aid kit to clean the cuts that had splintered the delicate skin of her cheek.

“My dad,” Her voice cracked as she finally broke the silence, “It was my dad.”

Ellie paused her movement for a brief moment before continuing to dab at the broken skin, “Why?”

Y/n cleared her throat, eyes darting around to look at anything Ellie’s piercing mossy stare, “He saw Erin kiss me. Turns out, he’d rather go back to have a shameless skank as a daughter than a…” 

Ellie cursed under her breath, chucking the dirty cotton pads off to the side. She tried to shake the jealousy that coursed through her veins, more focused on the girl’s physical wellbeing than their recent romantic falling out, “Why’d you come here? I mean, I get not wanting to be at home after this… but why not go to Erin?”

Y/n snorted, “Why’d you come here? Last I saw, you were having a grand time with your friends. You’re sure you aren’t afraid they’re gonna come looking for you and find us together?”

Ellie didn’t respond, taken aback at the response, but not at all angry or frustrating with the girl’s rightful feelings towards her. 

Y/n finally sighed, “Sorry.”

“No, I–uh, I think that was deserving.” She paused for a moment, “I’m sorry too, if that means anything to you. I was so, so shitty towards you.”

A small chuckle fell from her lips, “Yeah, you were. Somehow, you still treated me better than anyone else that I’ve been with.”

Ellie pursed her lips, thinking back on her conversation with Jesse and Dina earlier on, “Hey, you don’t have to answer this if you don’t wanna, but can I ask what happened with you and Dina?”

Y/n stiffened, “You mean she hasn’t told you? You’ve been going along with her hatred for me and you don’t even know why?”

“I know why on her part,” Ellie explained, “but I have a feeling your side of the story is gonna be a little different. Did you really try to steal Jesse from her?”

A scoff escaped her, disbelief escaping her features as an expression of guilt took its place, “Yes… and no.”

“Gonna need more than that.”

“I may have told Jesse that Dina wasn’t as into him as he was into her,” Y/n admitted, shoulders slumping as she stared down at her intertwined fingers, “But it wasn’t because I liked Jesse.”

“You like Dina,” Ellie concluded, a look of surprise on her face.

“Liked, past tense,” Y/n corrected, “There’s only so much a girl can take before any kind of positive feelings go away.”

“Does she know?”

Y/n shook her head, “At the time, it made more sense for her to hate me over Jesse than for her to hate me over this. It really wasn’t until you came to town and started dating Cat that I realised that I’d made a mistake, but it was too late.” A whimper fell from her lips as more tears began to trickle down her cheeks, “I’m sorry Ellie, for everything. I’m not mad anymore, I’d be pretty fucking embarrassed to be seen with me, too.”

Ellie lurched forward, grasping either of her cheeks in her cool palms, “No baby, no. I’m not embarrassed. I just, I was scared, and I didn’t understand. I could never be embarrassed to be seen with you. Shit, you probably wouldn’t even believe how fucking much it hurt, having to see you with her.”

Y/n stared up at her, eyes glassy in the dim lighting as Ellie continued to ramble, seemingly completely unaware of what she was actually saying, considering that Ellie Williams was one of the second most emotionally constipated people she had ever met, second only to Joel. 

“And you wouldn’t believe the kind of shit I’ve been getting from Jesse the last few days over this. I’m starting to think he might have been some kind of therapist in a past life or something, telling me how stupid I am and analysing my feelings. God–”

She was cut off as Y/n leaned forward, pressing a soft, barely-there kiss on her lips before pulling away, as if she had never done it in the first place. Both girls stared at each other with wide eyes, trying their best to read the expression of the other for a moment before Ellie grasped the back of Y/n’s neck and pulled her into a much firmer and much longer kiss. 

Y/n was pliant under her touch, allowing Ellie to mould her in whatever way she wanted. It was surprising to her that it was able to make her feel this good only a short while after her altercation with Erin, and how different it felt. With Erin, things felt forced, almost as if she wasn’t holding back as much as she initially thought she had been, but with Ellie, it was literally impossible to melt in her warm embrace. 

Y/n was the one who pulled away, forehead topped forward to meet Ellie’s as she inhaled heavily, forcing some fresh air through her puffy, spit-slick lips, “Ellie, I–”

“I know.”

“No, I can’t go back to how things were. I can’t have only half of you.”

“You won’t.”

Her eyebrows rose in surprise, “What about Dina?”

“She knows. Sort of. I guess it was too much to ask that Jesse keep his mouth shut.” Ellie snorted, her hand moving back to stroke the girl’s swollen cheek. “I don’t care what she thinks. She’ll be mad for a while, but she’ll come around.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

Ellie sighed, pressing one more sweet kiss to her lips, “Then I guess it’s just you and me against the world, huh?”

tags: @xmycxx @ellieseyesonly @lissanovak @erikaar @gold-dustwomxn @viswifetotallyreal @kerst666 @uraesthete @hellokitty3821 @stxrluvr @pampeop @ximtiredx @3lliesrifle @ellieslittlegf @chiao1209 @mimsiemoo @scarletnighttt @waiting-till-im-okay @salitosblog @eleactric @pedrosballsack @yourgirlcin @catostrophiclesbian @lazyotakuofficial @smelliebellie @slaysksmska @pretty-prrincess-13

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

I loved your peter vs Alastor story, can we possibly get a part two? Like maybe Peter is looking for her and she hears about it through the news or something from missing persons reports. She’s changed her name and Alastor has told her there’s nothing to worry about, but keeps having dreams about Peter finding her? You can choose how it ends!

A/N: I didn’t think people would want a part two to that but since you asked you shall receive! I love writing about Yanderes going against each other it’s so much fun 🤗. I watched the first four episodes of Hazbin Hotel and guys i LOVE IT SO MUCH. I’m so glad I waited for this show, and I’m so glad other people are enjoying it as much as I am. Special thanks to @a-bookworms-teashop or also known as @forbidden-sunlight, for helping me with this short story! As per usual we all know I like cliffhangers so expect a part three soon <<33 happy reading & enjoy!

Warnings: violence, obsessive tendencies, mentions of blood, lots of manipulation, talks of mental abuse, lots of dark content ahead!!

Songs you can listen too while reading: Close to you by Rihanna. Slipping through my fingers by ABBA. Desire by Megan Myers. Love on the Brain by Rihanna. Forget her by Jeff Buckley. Meet me in the hallway by Harry Styles. The Grudge by Olivia Rodrigo.

Part 1

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!

Forget her

Living in New Orleans was nice. People were always so kind, and everyone was so welcoming. Getting a new name was easy, surprisingly. The government didn’t make it hard to run away from psycho ex boyfriends who didn’t know how to take a hint. Living with Alastor was nice. He was always a gentlemen, a gentle man, a good lover too. He made sure to never treat you the way Peter did.

In fact he was quite the opposite with you. Inviting you out to parties with him, keeping you out of the public eye as to not bring the wrong type of attention around. Everything felt like it was starting to get better. He would bring you flowers, take you to work with him even, or work from home. Alastor was nothing short of the perfect boyfriend. In fact he was perfect and more.

But lately, something seemed to have you on edge. He had been fidgety. Checking his phone constantly but always reassuring you with the polite smile. A reassuring one he tried to keep on, but you saw right through. He was hiding something and you wanted to know what.

According to Husk, Peter had since moved out of the apartment he had been living in, with no notice too. He had gone completely ghost. There was no sign of him anywhere, according to your knowledge. It was a Saturday evening when it had all happened. When your intuition had finally proved to be right.

“You said I wouldn’t be seen.” You said, the article about an appearance the two of you had made up on your phone. Alastor was walking through the kitchen, tossing various ingredients into a large pot, his jambalaya coming along nicely.

“ Dear please, there hasn’t been any sign of you for months. I doubt the bastard has even seen it, let alone have any access to technology.” He brushed you off with a chuckle, sliding the ingredients off the cutting board and into the pot. You sighed and put your phone down on the counter. Maybe you were being over paranoid. But ever since reading the article, a chill had ran up your spine that didn’t seem to be leaving any time soon. Alastor noticed you looking off to the side, lost in your own mind. He reaches out, hands brushing your sides gently. “Why don’t you take a bath, hm? Ill even set it up for you. What do you say dear?” He asks calmly, a hand on your lower back, ushering you out of the kitchen and past the open living room, making your way down the hall to the bathroom.

“ Alright fine. But we need to talk about this later.” You say, and he responds to you with a kiss on your cheek. You go to your shared bedroom, going through the large walk in closet to find a change of clothes for after your bath. The water is running in the bathroom, the smell of fragrances light on your senses. You make your way back to the bathroom to see Alastor leaning over the tub slightly, candles already lit on the sides of the tub to allow you to relax. There’s your favorite book next to a cup of wine, along with the radio playing light jazz. Everything is perfect, as it should be, and for a moment you can forget the feeling of strained eyes on you. You can forget it all as you’re embraced by a man who loves you. Who truly cares.

“ Take your time darling. I must run out for a bit to get some extra ingredients. Will you be fine without me?” He asks, taking the robe from you as you sink down into the tub, eyeing you carefully, enough to give you butterflies. You smile, one of his favorites and nod, reaching to the side to pick up your glass of wine, the red stains your lips slightly as you pull the cup away.

“I think Ill be okay, thank you love. Be quick please, I might just nap here.” You say jokingly. Alastor smiles, folding your robe up neatly in his hands before nodding to you lightly. He leans down to kiss you, a soft tender kiss, before leaving you in the bathroom alone. It’s when you hear the front door shut that you sigh, now knowing he’s gone. The water is just right, just warm enough on your skin for you to rest your eyes a bit.

A bit turns into an hour, and when you hear a loud glass shatter from the kitchen is when you wake up from your nap. You hadn’t been serious about sleeping in the tub, but mistakes happen. You quickly pull at the drain, the water slowly slipping down as you grab your towel and get yourself dressed, sliding a simple nightgown on before stepping out of the bathroom. “Alastor?” You call, but you’re met with silence. Your vision is hazy, the steam from the water seeming to create some sort of film over your sight, but you manage. Walking down the hall and into the living area, you see a vase shattered on the ground. What you don’t expect to see, is a distraught Peter standing across from you.

“Guess again Baby.” He says with a smile. He sighs and takes in your appearance, eyes completely devouring your appearance. “What are you doing here?” You ask, panic written all over your face.

“How did you find me?” You ask again. Peter tuts at you, standing straight up, revealing just how tall he really was in comparison to you. He has a folder in his hand, one he throws on the floor in between the two of you, and it just barely touches your feet as it slides across the floor. “What is this?” You ask, eyeing him closely. He grins, hands behind his back as he watches you pick up the folder.

“Your perfect boyfriend.” He responds. The pictures inside reveal themselves before you can even process whats going on. Pictures of Alastor and you about in the city. Ones of the two of you at home, the two of you at dinner. Intimate moments, things that were supposed to be private. All laid out right in front of you. A picture of Alastor and you at a friends wedding. His face was burned out of the photo, but you knew who it was. The more photos you looked through the more you found. Magazine clippings of Alastor with you in the town. Paparazzi seeing you both together at parties, dancing around each other like no one was watching but the worlds eyes were on you. Peters eyes were on you.

“He told me-“

“Told you what?” Peter snickered, stepping closer, the broken glass crunching under his feet. You kept going through photos, one right after the other. Then, one really caught your attention. Mimzy. She had been so obsessed with Alastor and how you were no good for him. Now, in front of you was a photo, the two of them with their arms around each other, almost like lovers, but not quite friends. How long ago was this? Why didnt he tell you about this?

“He doesn’t love you. Not the way I do.” Peter said, stepping closer, arms raising for a hug. “ Let’s just go home. We can put this all behind us. I can forgive you.” He said, a smile on his face. He was still the same. He thought he had done no wrong. He lowers his arms when he sees you don’t come closer, but instead reaches for your hands, pulling them to his chest. “What do you need? Money? I can give you that. If- if you want more freedom we can go out! We can do whatever you want-“ He pleaded, eyes begging for yours to look at him. “Please, just come back. He took you away from where you were safe. Now you have everyone judging you, when you don’t need that.” He said, hand cupping your chin to force you to look at him. “Are you really happy here?” He asks.

It feels like time freezes for a moment. Were you really happy? All the press, Alastor always being gone or out at parties. The social events. The liquor, the drugs. The dancers and the crowds of people together. With Alastor, it was always a party. But with Peter, things were different.

With Peter, you were quiet. Alone but without the drugs, the partying and the social interaction. With Peter you really never lifted a finger, not like you physically could. Peter always brought gifts home, even if he was upset with you. He always did laundry, had things neat and tidy, or as much as they could in the small apartment. With Peter, you were taken care of. With Peter, you lived a calm life.

Well, at least that was how he saw it.

With Peter, there was a constant fear surrounding you. Suffocating you. He never let you live, took away your freedom and your life to keep you tied down to him. He had hurt you on multiple occasions, raising a hand to the person he swore to love so dearly. He had threatened to kill your family, your friends, anyone who stood in between the two of you. Peter didn’t love you, no, he was obsessed. Did you really want that life back?

“I.. I am happy here.” You finally said, pulling yourself away from Peter. His eyes looked defeated. He looked, complex. In a matter of seconds his demeanor changed entirely, standing tall in his anger, his pride.

“Happy? Happy with a man who took you from me?!” He yelled, lunging forward and caging you between him and the wall. His eyes looked manic, like something had snapped. It was only then you noticed him reaching into his pocket, glass shard in hand. “I told you what would happen if you ever left.” He said, hand in the air as the shard came down quickly. A slice to your cheek had you sliding down the wall, tears streaming down your face as blood ran down your neck, fingers shakily holding onto yourself for some support.

“Peter please-“ you pleaded with a whisper. Even after all these months away from him he still managed to make you feel so small.

“I see what’s going on.” He said, chuckling a bit. He crouches down, eye level with you now. “He has you completely brainwashed doesn’t he. I’m sure he-“ He stops when he hears the front lock being turned. The door opens to reveal a humming Alastor, eyes shut as he hums a song to himself softly. He turns to lock the door, before turning back around, finally opening his eyes to see the sight of Peter and you on the ground.

Everyone is quiet for a moment. Peter looks panicked, Alastor looks, unreadable, and you look, frightened. Alastor drops the bag of groceries, and before you can process what’s happening there’s a knife being drawn from under his shirt sleeve. Not a large one, but a size big enough to kill a man. To kill Peter. Peter stands quickly, clutching the glass shard in his hand so tight he begins to cut himself. The two meet in the middle, Peter swinging to try to slice Alastors neck. Something about the way Peter misses, the way Alastor inhales sharply. His eyes widen but in a different way. One you’d never seen from him before. There’s a difference in the way his eyes gloss over, the shine in them just a bit brighter than before.

Nothing would ever be the same after tonight.

[theambitiouswoman]

Spotting Red Flags: How to Protect Yourself from Toxic Relationships

In the early stages of dating, it can be easy to overlook red flags in a potential partner because we're so caught up in the excitement and romance. However, ignoring these warning signs can lead to unhealthy and even dangerous relationships. Here are some common red flags to look out for:

Disrespectful behavior: If your date is rude, condescending, or dismissive towards you or others, this is a major red flag. Respect is a foundational component of any healthy relationship.

Inconsistent communication: If your date is hot and cold with their communication, this could be a sign that they're not interested or that they're not emotionally available.

Controlling behavior: If your date tries to control what you wear, who you see, or what you do, this is a major red flag. This behavior can escalate into emotional or physical abuse.

Dishonesty: If your date lies about their past or their current situation, this is a major red flag. Honesty is essential for trust and intimacy in a relationship.

Lack of empathy: If your date is unable or unwilling to see things from your perspective or show compassion towards others, this could be a sign of narcissistic or sociopathic tendencies.

To protect yourself from toxic relationships, it's important to trust your instincts and listen to your gut. If something feels off, don't ignore it. Pay attention to how your date treats you and others, and don't be afraid to walk away if you see any red flags. Remember, you deserve to be with someone who respects and values you for who you are. Not just when you are behaving in a way that is convenient to them.

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

The Stags Lone Wolf

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

Length: 17.7k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, insecurities, self loathing tendencies, mild smut, allusions to neglect/emotional abuse

Notes: Did you ever wonder what the very first chapter looked like from Jon's point of view? No? Well just in case you do, here we go. Companion Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

Jon had tried very hard to consider that this was a sign of things looking up. The day before had been one of many twists and it was difficult to come to terms with what he thought he was not granted, to one standing out as if just for him. There felt something wrong in the thought of leaving the direwolf pups, or worse, killing them out of mercy. Everyone had argued around him over his fathers decision, but Jon only stood.

Looking down to the five pups, save the one being pulled from Brans arms, all still cowering by their dead mother and by the maggots around meaning Jon knew it was a miracle they had lasted this long with nothing to protect them. But too he looked closer, the one he picked up and handed to Bran was a boy, and he could now see clearer that there were two more boys and two girls. It matched. But, only without him. Not six pups, and not four boys.

But it couldn’t be about him, Jon knew that it couldn’t be about him if he was going to save them. And something deep called to Jon from within to do so. A chilling in his blood as he looked at them and on an instinct did Jon turn. With everyone around and the formal proposal he was about to present, he separated himself as much as possible in order to make this work. Looking to his father did Jon call out, “Lord Stark,”

It wasn’t just his words that stopped them, it was what words he spoke. Most of the time there was not a single issue in calling him father, but saying something showcasing Jons true position caught everyone off guard. Finally did he gesture to the pups, and pled his case.

“There are five pups. One for each of the Stark children. The direwolf is the sigil of your house. You were meant to have them.”

Silence, everyone waited and looked to him to see his answer and very quickly did his father break. He did not do so with much softness towards them, but Jon could read that softness in how he folded regardless. Looking to both Bran and Robb, “You will train them yourselves, you will feed them yourselves. And if they die, you will bury them yourselves.”

With a little smile, Bran happily took back the pup Jon had handed him initially, from Theon who had been ready to put it down then and there. Both he and Robb then came around to take hold of the other two each. Jon only watched, something grateful in his heart that he did what he did, but there too was something darker. A piece of him missing as he realized he was not graced to be part of this. Something had sent direwolves to the wolfswood outside Winterfell and meant for the Starks to find them, but that was it. The missing part of him that meant this wasn’t his place to be involved.

Bran himself seemed to pick up on this if only the slightest bit. Looking to the nothing in Jons arms and asking what about him. But Jon just told him the simplest truth, of why he didn’t have one, and why he had to be the one to propose it to their father the way he did. “I’m not a Stark. Get on.” Prompting his little brother to make his way with the rest up the creeks hillside and back to the horses.

Still Jon didn’t know why he sensed it. Something telling him to stop in his tracks and look. Not search, but look in one spot. Hidden in the bushes not making a sound, Jon could hear Robb having turned to him with a curiosity. “What is it?” Then he felt it. Something soft, and small. It couldn’t be. He wasn’t a Stark, this wasn’t his place, the gods knew that.

And yet, Jon picked up what felt like the scruff of somethings neck and raised it out of the bushes.

Looking at him now, there was nothing capable of being on Jons face but a smile. He was tiny, he was different then the others in more then one way, but, he was his. The fur a pure white, and his eyes a pinkish red. The other pups were darker and varied in colour with golden eyes but none could see yet. It made the ride home for Robb, Theon, and Bran a bit of a trip as the small things didn’t know what was happening yet or where they were going.

But Jons? He was silent. Tucked carefully away as to not disturb him as he made the horse ride back to the castle, and scantly did he make a single sound. They had all sought out the rest of their siblings, showing the wolf pups and explaining what happened. Bran, Robb, nor their father notably did not include in the story that rescuing them had been Jons idea, while Lady Catelyn was hovering by. Clearly beside herself that her children now all had not just wolf pups, but that of direwolves. Ones she knew would grow to a massive size if the stories, and Neds account of how large the mother was, were true.

She had silently glared to Jon as he was knelt down beside Rickon who was equally as excited as somewhat afraid. Jons pup had his full sight, why he didn’t know, but it meant he was a comfort to the scared and bumbling blind ones. Coming over to the one which seemed to be Rickons with a darker fur closer to black. Knocking his head into him to comfort him as the growling settled.

Only then did Jon put a hand on Rickons back as he leaned down more to his baby brothers level knelt there, “Go on, he can’t see so he can only get used to your touch and voice right now.” Carefully did a shaky hand reach out as if the thing was going to bite his hand off. Initially it looked like it to the small six year old, a tiny nibble that had Rickon gasp and almost pull away. Jon shifted, putting a hand more around to hold at both arms to steady him. “It’s alright, he doesn’t want to hurt you, he’s just getting used to you.”

Slowly did he and the dark wolf pup get used to one another, his baby brother looking up to Jon with a bright smile, only for Jon to sense Lady Catelyns on him. But now, not even that was bothering him. Not for this.

That night Jon had tried to make a small bed for the wolf pup, a comfortable place to sleep and multiple times had to pick him up and put him back on the bed. Each time he would step off and follow Jon throughout the room before Jon just settled down in his bed, alone and tired. It didn’t last long. Jon hadn’t even fallen asleep before he felt something jump onto his bed, and then a small bundle of fur nearly smother his face. Turning in the spot, the wolf pup had snuggled his head right up against Jons as if asking to cuddle and who was Jon to kick him off his bed?

He and the pup slept like that the whole night, with the feeling of tiny licks waking him before even he would’ve normally. It wasn’t long before he settled on a name. The way he could hear the other wolf pups howling constantly, very cute little sounds trying to get used to the world, and even though he could hear his making small noises, he never howled himself. He was silent both in his voice and how he seemed to walk against things making no noise.

Ghost. He settled on Ghost.

And for once, Jon thought he could think perhaps not everything looked so grim. Only to be wrong. So utterly and completely wrong that even as he still stood there now, he was almost in shock. His father and Lady Catelyn had called them all, Jon included to news that had arrived that morning.

It was twofold at first, and that seemed like enough. Lord Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King and a man who was like a father to many, including Jons own father, has passed. Which meant that King Robert Baratheon rode for Winterfell. With the Queen, her children, and the rest of them. They all knew what that meant. What it was implying and their father thought his children should have the time to brace themselves to realize things might change in not so distant of the future.

It was Arya who started it. Asking with a genuine curiosity if you were coming as well. And thats when Jon knew something was wrong. No one but him saw and he didn’t know why, the way his fathers eyes flickered so quickly to Jon and back it wouldn’t have registered to any but them. It was Lady Catelyn who delivered it, and Jons heart sunk from his chest and down crashing through the stone floor deep beyond as she turned to look directly at Robb.

“The King has determined it was time she were wed.” Slowly everyone turned to look at Robb with the same falling expression realizing what she was not saying for him to put together. Something, not outrage, but perhaps frustrated at what was being implied.

Robbs face twisting as he spoke up with a bit more force in his voice, “You mean married to me?” Catelyn nodded, and instantly did Robb not hide his feelings about it. “Mother, you can’t mean it.”

Jon knew the problem wasn’t you, it was the idea, the suddenness, the out of nowhere feeling. All his siblings had conflicting ideas about how to feel, but too did Jon sense his fathers gaze which he didn’t return. Just watched Robb and Catelyn go back and forth with not a shift in his posture or expression in the slightest as she continued. “You are both to be wed before she returns to Kings Landing.”

There was no more way to argue it. It was a command brought by a raven from the King, there was no fighting with that kind of order. As his father and Lady Catelyn begun to discuss things amongst themselves did the siblings disperse. Jon felt Aryas knowing gaze the entire time he turned to walk away, and made no motion to indicate he noticed. Jon made little indication of anything, as if he was the only one unaffected by the news. Following almost naturally in stride with Robb, it was his instinct to let him vent the moment they were out of earshot.

Robbs face was still twisted in a frustration, his hands gesturing out with emphasis showing how rattled he was by the suddenness. “Her fathers spent years trying to keep her from getting married, and now he ships her off without so much as a thought?”

Swallowing the weight in his throat Jon hoped his voice came out a lot less forced and on edge then he felt. “If father does go to Kings Landing, a marriage could help.” Robb only argued back that it didn’t matter, only that there was no getting out of this. Jon asked and almost regretted it, he knew why he asked it. But he didn’t want to think about it. Not yet. “Is it getting married at all, or just that you’re marrying her?”

If Robb picked up on anything, he didn’t let it be known. Shaking his head with a huff of a false chuckle. “We’ve known her since we were ten, I’d rather marry her then some girl I won’t even meet until the wedding day.” The hand opposite from Robbs easy view clenched into more of a fist before relaxing again. The tension needing to be dispersed somewhere, but still unsure as to what to do around so many people. He couldn’t feel this yet, he needed to be alone first. His brother must have glanced to Jon, and made a judgment of what his tense expression could’ve been trying to silently convey. “Beside, I’d rather marry her then watch her get shipped off to some southern Lord who’d have no patience for getting used to her.”

It was short and muttered out through hopefully not gritted teeth, “None of us would want that for her.” It was normal Jon cared. He was your friend, you were his best friend. Of course it would come to a shock to him as well to learn of this betrothal. But did it come off that way to Robb? Jon didn’t know, he just kept walking and kept trying to feel that tense numbness as long as he could hold off the rest of it from flooding him too fast. “You should write to her. About it.” Meeting Robbs more questioning gaze, Jon elaborated looking back forward as he said your name. “You know her. She’ll be too worried to write to you first about it, it’ll be easier if she knows you’re not mad at her.”

Robb only asked for a moment. “Why would she think I’d be mad at-” Cutting himself off, both brothers gave knowing expressions in a bit of a flat manner one could’ve called bemused in a better scenario. “Right.”

By the time Jon had a moment to himself to go back to his chambers, he was at least relieved that his were a bit further away from the other Starks. He could slam the door closed behind him and no one of meaning would hear it. Sleeping in the middle of the fur atop his bed, Ghost perked up right away with a whine at the sound but Jon didn’t look at him. Running a hand over his face before stepping into the room swiftly where his desk was. Palms bracing against the wood, Jon stared intensely at the wall, eyes bleeding from grey to black as the rest of his muscles begun to shook.

He wasn’t ready. It was too soon, he wasn’t ready. One hand slammed into the desk, startling Ghost again before Jon turned and leaned his back against the surface as he ran a hand over his mouth and kept it there. As if containing what wanted to come out, whatever too strong emotion was fighting for control of him each passing second. Eyes closing it felt as if his heart was pounding in his chest as the thought kept repeating. He wasn’t ready.

His eyes tore to his bed, and he felt warm. Too warm. Unpleasantly warm as if he was being burned from the inside. Just a few short moons passed, Jon had you on that bed. With only his breeches on, and you nothing. How beautiful you looked. Your skin soft and plush and perfect as you laid back not knowing what to do, but how he didn’t need you to do anything. You let Jon climb up onto his bed, and carefully pry your legs apart and look at you, at what he’s always wanted. How he could see the traces of your wetness as if your walls were clenching around nothing in anticipation. Your breasts begging to be grabbed and marked up as they heaved with your nervous breaths.

The way your hands shook underneath his as Jon guided you to take his shirt off. And too, the way you both asked if he wanted to stop when Jon hesitated, and asked in a quiet, gentle voice if he wanted to wait for you, so you could wait for him. How for just an hour, Jon had the time to keep you bare in his arms, hands running over your skin as your hands rested along his chest. If Jon went through with that day, it was the worst case scenario that made him stop. What if he got you pregnant? He was nothing but a bastard. He couldn’t give you anything. Less then anything. Only a shameful surname he would never curse you or any children with in a lifetime. You were a beautiful, royal, highborn, popular Baratheon girl. Jon was a bastard dragging you down. And he almost shamed you by taking your maidenhead no matter how desperately Jon would’ve treasured it for the rest of his days.

When his eyes closed he had no idea, but he opened them to feeling Ghost at his feet nudging with a whine. Sensing Jons rise in distress, he picked up the direwolf pup and kept him high on his person as he his voice rasped in such a quiet tone for the pup alone. “I’m not ready, Ghost. I’m not ready to let her go.”

Ghost just bumped his head into Jons. Who turned to press a kiss to the top of his head, keeping close to the other his only comfort. He hadn’t even told you yet. He hadn’t found a good time to tell you he loves you, how much he’s always been in love with you. He and you were supposed to share your first times together, explore the others body in such intimate ways the way you and he had been each others firsts for everything else.

He wanted you to get to Winterfell, take you with him and leave in the middle of the night. Jon would take you north, so far north he’d end up beyond the Wall where no one could tell him that he couldn’t love you. He’d build you a warm cabin, nothing special, but something for you two. In that world, Jon wouldn’t have reason to hesitate. No one out there would care. He’d drape you on his bed just like last time but match how bare you were.

If his eyes closed he could see it, how he’d mount you atop the furs. His cock sinking deep inside of you over and over as you cried and begged his name. He’d take you as much as it needed. Out there, you could have his child and not have your life ruined over it. He could see at least four. Running around free as he’d come up behind you. Wrapping his arms around you, hands resting on your stomach as you swelled with his fifth child.

But he couldn’t do that to you. You had a good life, and you would have a good life with Robb. He’d treat you well, better then Jon ever could. His brother was a trueborn Stark, the heir to Winterfell, he would adore being married to you. He couldn’t not. You were perfect. And Jon was only tormented by it. The day after he thought the old gods were sending him a message that perhaps he was a Stark deep somewhere in his blood, the thought was ripped away from his hands. Casted out and reminded he was nothing but a bastard who would ruin you and your children’s lives.

Ghost slept close again that night. Jon barley able to stop seeing you in his mind, realizing how unprepared he had let himself become for this day. He knew he couldn’t keep you forever, and it was his fault he hadn’t at all readied himself for the day he’d have to give you up. Jon just wasn’t ready.

He’d been thinking about it a lot. More and more the past few days.

It wasn’t out of nowhere. For years now each time his Uncle Benjen came to visit from Castle Black, Jon thought just a little bit more about leaving with him. But he was needed here. His family was here, and Jon knew his father would never let him take the black if he asked. But as he sat there that morning, once again the conversations around him turning to the inevitable wedding, Jon felt more and more like maybe this was a sign.

He had been selfish in trying to keep you for himself, and now he was being punished for it by listening to his little sisters boast about finally having you really be part of the family like they always wanted, and the quieter discussion between Robb and his mother. That though, was more of an argument.

Catelyn it seemed thought a wedding in the small sept would be the obvious choice, you were raised in the Light of the Seven and Robb was raised under the old gods and the new, it only made sense. Robb however, knew you as well as Jon did on this matter. “Mother, she’s not going to want a big ceremony in front of the whole castle.”

“It is a traditional-”

His voice was more exasperated then normal, as if Robb too wasn’t sleeping as well as he was pretending he was. Jon wanted to be there for him, wanted to assure his brother that he knew you wouldn’t make him miserable and that it would be fine in the end, but he didn’t want to say that. Because by giving that to Robb, it meant taking all of it away from Jon. And he still wasn’t ready for that. But still, Robb argued regardless about much of the wedding preparations. “She won’t care about tradition. If I asked her right now if she was alright with getting married in the godswood-”

Catelyn cutting in, “You know she would say yes?” Robb affirming he would, and Jons hand around the fork he was holding got a bit more tight gripped.

Sensing eyes on him, Jon dragged them up to see Arya looking right at him, narrowed eyes asking no doubt if he was alright but Jon just looked back down to his plate without much acknowledgement. She was the only one who knew. He never confirmed it to her himself, but she had caught Jon kissing you in the stables one day and confronted him about not telling her. But he certainly didn’t want to talk about it now.

And as the days shortened to the one where the King would finally arrive, so it seemed the direwolves grew. The morning after they found them, Jon could recall all of them in the kitchens trying to decide on names. Some came easier then others, Bran didn’t even yet have a name for his. All of them though, seemed to grow fast. Each of them outgrowing their pup size in a matter of weeks, it would be no time surely before they grew to be the size of the mother they found them cowering around.

Training was going better for some then others. It seemed as if the direwolves matched the traits of the one they were with, like they were meant to go to that person. Arya named her wolf Nymeria, after the Dornish Princess who had let the Rhoynar to Westeros. Though, it seemed both of them had much time to go before reaching that point of legend. In private, Nymeria was calm and comforting to Arya, but in the public eye? She was just as stubborn and difficult to train as Arya could some days be to teach, they matched well.

Rickon seemed still somewhat scared of his. Naming his Shaggydog, he was young and unsure of what to do when the pup would get aggressive. More then once Jon and Robb would step in to teach him to stand his ground, as if Shaggydog didn’t see fear in Rickon towards him, he’d stop feeling the need to prove himself as aggressive. More then once Jon would see Rickon looking across the yard with wide eyes, only needing him to nod supportingly and he’d shift his voice to project more and tell the wolf to listen to him. His little brother had always been so easy to spend time with.

He was still young, barley even six at that point, Rickon understood many things and was quite smart but he was young enough that there were things that passed his knowledge. He had yet to truly grasp why Jon was different then his other brothers, not really coming to the conclusion of what being a bastard really meant. Not understanding why Jon couldn’t do certain things, or wasn’t involved in others.

So vividly he could remember a feast they had not a year passed, other Northern lords and their families attended and the tables up at the top of the dining hall were immaculately decorated for them all. Some of the Starks escorted other guests to their seats, with Rickon tailing more in the back being so young. Jon never sat up with them at feasts. He never stood with them at formal events. That wasn’t a bastards place.

But Rickon? He didn’t get it. At only four then, Rickon had scrunched his face up as he was walking to his seat, before stopping and walking right over to Jon. In front of everyone he simply went to go greet him, wanting him to just come with them because he didn’t yet understand why his brother wasn’t sitting with him. Jon had to get up, crouch in front of him and prompt him to go on, that he’d see him later. Rickon had done so, but turned to look with an even greater frown at Jon nodding at him to keep going.

Hardly anyone ever gave him such freedom from his status. The only one who did it with ease other then him, was you. Not that his other siblings looked down on him, but they knew he was different and why. Rickon didn’t. You did, but you didn’t let that change anything. You never had. Always referring to him in the plural as “You Starks,” when lumping the whole family in together. Always joking he was a wolf, never letting him put himself lower then his siblings. You never even hesitated in being with him in any way.

You had been worried you’d get him into trouble because you weren’t supposed to be doing things, not because he wasn’t supposed to be with a highborn girl. You didn’t want him to get into trouble, because you knew him being a bastard wouldn’t be appreciated if anyone found out about you both. It was a miracle honestly that Lord Stannis, your father, had seemed adamant about keeping you from marriage.

Robb had figured out that in a two year period you had suddenly been sent to Winterfell, was because the Queen was trying to set up marriages for you after you had your moonblood, and your father had kept you away from the capitol to put an end to them. By the time you returned almost a woman at six and ten, you had two sides to work with. The first was how your father was busying you with work and intimidating away potential suitors, the other was Jon.

You had no interest in any of the highborn men or talented knights around you, because you were content going back to Winterfell to be with Jon no matter how that would be. You just didn’t care, you were happy having everything with Jon that a trueborn lord could’ve given you. But, now it wasn’t enough.

Jon knew he was being selfish with you. He knew he couldn’t keep you forever, and that one day he would have to give you up. But he had made it so much worse for himself by being as in love with you as he was. He was too deep to let go completely. He had to, and he would, but his heart would never move on.

And worse? When you married Robb, you’d go to Kings Landing, then what? Return one day to live with your new husband? Have beautiful children? You deserved that, but Jon couldn’t handle it. The thought ate away at him more and more thinking about it. He couldn’t do it, he wasn’t going to be able to take watching you get everything he wished he could have with you, with the brother who already was and had everything Jon never would.

He hadn’t said anything to his father yet, he wasn’t sure how he would handle that. But he had made his mind up. Maester Luwin didn’t think much of it when being told who the raven was for, but he did pick up on how tense Jon was. How much more troubled he had been for days. But he couldn’t say it yet. Luwin cared, but he’d be likely to bring it up to his father if he heard, so Jon let it drop for now. It was in the raven, but nothing else.

He felt bad saying it there. He knew you’d have so much overwhelming you right now, and this would not help but he didn’t want you to show up and be blind sighted by his choice. So Jon wrote to you on the Kingsroad, telling you that he wasn’t going to be at Winterfell much longer after you arrived, because he was going North and taking the black.

You didn’t write him back, not did he expect you to on the road. But you had to know. Jon had to now figure out how to convince his father to let him join, a fight Jon knew he would likely fail on his own. Despite being a bastard, the stain on his fathers reputation, never once did he let Jon fall to the sidelines.

He raised him in his home, with his other children, let him feel as much as the family as one possibly could. The older Jon got, the more he found himself working at his father side. Robb did too, but as he would take over one day, Robb had a degree of distance to prove he could stand on his own. Jon had no such future obligation. Many times it was he who stood right by his father as they’d discuss things back and forth. Jon would be sent to do things a lot, while Robb was asked to oversee things. And more then one nights as men, did Jon find himself in his fathers study with a drink or two between them as they could just spend time as father and son without hangups.

He knew it would be not an easy fight on his own, but he knew one person who could convince his father, he just hoped he could to convince him to make that fight on his behalf in the first place.

The castle was amok with people everywhere. They weren’t yet sure when they royal company would arrive, but it would be in no time. Days at most. Sometimes Jon would find himself and Ghost in the godswood at night, and he’d sit down. The still small direwolf jumping into his lap as he and the old gods would listen to Jons plight. Only for them to hear and no one else, that he wished he could hate Robb for it.

His brother seemed to be getting used to the idea of being married to you, and as much as Jon tried to be there for him, he hated every second of it. He wanted to hate Robb, that would make his feelings so much easier to figure out. Just a pure jealousy, but it wasn’t. He loved Robb, and he didn’t want Robb to be miserable nor you. But, did that come at the price of Jons happiness? Perhaps.

The King and his company must have been closer then they all thought though. Lady Catelyn came up to them during the morning, he, Robb, and Theon and told them all they were to clean up before the King arrived. Facial hair all clean shaved, and hair trimmed short and neat. All three men gave each other looks knowing it wasn’t really ideal, but the tone of her voice gave no room for interpretation.

Robb was first, his hair normally kept on the short side compared to how Jon would let his dark curls grow wild, he was though just as unhappy being shaven as the rest felt. It had been so long since Jon would’ve had nothing. Since he was fourteen maybe. As soon as facial hair begun to grow, it came in fast and coarse and he didn’t care to put in the work to constantly keep it shaven. You liked it too, which may or may not have been a much greater contributing factor to why he kept it then anything else.

Arms crossed as he waited for his turn, Jon let his general dismay he known. “Why’s your mother so dead set on us getting pretty for the King?”

Before Robb could answer, Theon piped in first as he said your name. Both wolves eyes darting towards him as he elaborated. “It’s for her I bet.” Nodding towards Robb in particular he elaborated. “And if you have to look all nice and fancy for your betrothed, then so do we apparently.”

He didn’t want to comment on it, the manner which you were so easily now discussed in terms of being Robbs. But something more flat slipped out before he could stop it. “Not like she’d care.” Both eyes directed up towards Jon as he tilted his head in a dismissive manner to ease the tensity he might have originally carried in his words. “We spent half her life roughing her up in the training yard. Looking nice for one day won’t change any of that.”

Neither of them suspected anything, and Jon could at the very least relax in the slightest that his immense attitude in his heart hadn’t been noticed by anyone else who didn’t have reason to suspect otherwise.

Theon could only smirk to himself as the image came to him. “I’ll wager the Queen will spend half the morning tomorrow trying to doll her up. Might get to see what a royal girl is supposed to look like on her for once.” Robb had passively asked with a jest if he had been thinking about that a lot, only for Theons face to scrunch up before falling amusingly flat. “You assume I’m thinking of her, when we got the Queen coming our way?” His focus now shifted entirely, at least Jon could relax in that it was off you for now. He could tolerate whatever the discussion of Queen Cersei had become far more. “I hear she’s a sleek bit of mink.”

Robb however, much like Jon would’ve, did not even bother to entertain that specific discussion. “I hear the Prince is a right, royal prick.”

By the time Robb was done, he stood up with no restraint in amusing himself by smacking Jon on the arm as he switched places. A taunt on his lips as Jon begrudgingly made his way over, almost needing to be shoved down in the chair at his purposely putting off demeanour. “Go on Tommy, sheer him good. He’s never met a girl he’s liked better then his own hair.”

Jons face said one thing feeling the blades slice into his curls, but his heart said another. Wishing to look at Robb and tell him that he had not a single clue what he was talking about, and that he had no idea what Jon secretly had and always would have over him about you.

Jon was your first. Your first kiss, first touch, first orgasm, so many firsts between you both. He knew how addicting kissing you truly was, and how you only knew how to kiss because you and Jon learned together. And Jon was the first to know what you looked like, what you really looked like. What a sight your bare frame was and how he would never forget it, nor want too. Robb was about to get many more firsts from you, but Jon and you shared so many of your firsts together, and just maybe Jon could hold onto that.

Because even though neither of you ever said it, he was certain he was your first love, as you were his first and only. He wouldn’t hold it against you, if you found real love with Robb, he wouldn’t hold it against either of you, but Jon could at least say he had your heart first, and you’d always have his.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, everyone had begun to gather in the main courtyard. The Kings company had been spotted by Bran as he was climbing around up on the battlements and now everyone stood in preparation. Or, they should’ve been.

Catelyn noticed first as she glanced down to her children beside Ned, “Where’s Arya?” Seeing her nowhere, Catelyn asked specifically, “Sansa where’s your sister?” Naturally, Sansa only had a single shrug that she didn’t know, which wasn’t very surprising to Jon. It wasn’t as if those two spent more time together lately then they had too. They usually were better at getting along when you were there to mediate their issues and force them to set things aside, but just them on their own was more arguing lately then anything.

Jon understood that. He’d been down that path with Sansa, though, at this point they mostly ignored one another instead of her trying to get into arguments with her far older brother. His grey eyes could slide to Lady Catelyn and be sure where that negative attitude towards him had been influenced by.

Seemingly out of nowhere did Arya come running up urgently, only for their father to grab her, making her stop. Looking down at her, a helmet sat on her head he asked confused, “What are you doing with that on?” Arya didn’t even have an answer as he took it off her and motioned for her to stand beside her brother. Passing the helmet behind to Ser Rodrick in the queue where Jon stood beside Theon. The bastard brother in the back, as normal. Though, the back wasn’t the worst place he’d be delegated today.

One by one did horses begin filling the air with their trotting before they were spotted. First the riders in the front holding the banners, the golden crowned stag flying bright as it always did on one side, and the deep red of a lion on the other banner. The Baratheons and the Lannisters. First them, then guards, then two Kingsguard rode passed, and then he saw you.

You rode next to what he could only presume was your cousin, the Prince Joffery. He looked as opposite of you as possible. Short, golden hair, rich and clearly luxurious clothing as he rode in with a look that felt more smug then it should’ve been for where he was. But hardly did Jon pay any mind.

He knew to anyone else, he looked angry. Maybe he was, but in another way, a stranger would presume he was angry at who he was looking at instead of in general. But truly, he felt a painful break in his heart at the simple truth watching you ride in. You looked astoundingly beautiful. No doubt hand maidens had taken the time to paint your face more then you’d ever do alone, making the best of you stand out. Somehow not ruined at all by the stern scowl as you looked around in knowing. You didn’t look at him, not that Jon expected you too, but nor did you look at Robb. You were clearly just trying to keep yourself together, and play the part you were expected too as a member of the royal family.

Not that you’d ever want anyone to say that about you, but watching you here ride in with the luxury of them all, it was clear how much you belonged with it. You had done your own hair, some parts loose, some done in many braids, a style you had once told him was more common amongst highborn women in the Stormlands to contend with the weather as Dragonstone had all the same storms and more, and you had simply gotten used to it.

But it was your dress. It was a golden yellow, draped along you perfectly as he could see the antlers of stags sewn into the design, and a thick, deep brown shall wrapped around you to keep you warm. The dress meant to stand out, and clearly the Queen had thought a cloak would hide too much of it. It wasn’t the title graced to you, but in some regards, its exactly what you were. The daughter of the Kings brother, in some places, you wouldn’t just be a lady, your position would be close enough to call a princess. And you looked like one.

And he hated it. Because he knew Queen Cersei had dressed you up as such, to make sure you appealed as much as possible to Robb. He had a feeling the Queen would be offended if she knew a bastard like him even had eyes for such a beautiful princess no matter how much it was his kiss you knew.

Eventually the carriage no doubt holding the Queen in question and her other children, as they were not seen riding in with the procession, did two more Kingsguard ride on either side before he appeared.

Jon had never seen King Robert Baratheon as much as he heard about him. Grew up with his father in the Eyrie as a ward. Half raised by Lord Jon Arryn, the now deceased hand of the King and as little as he personally knew about him, was the man Jon was named after. Much like how Robb was for the King before his eyes. He knew Lord Arryn had a son named after Robert as well, or Robin as you had once stated was the nickname the strange boy preferred. But none of the Kings children held any name resembling Ned Stark.

It itched at something in Jons brain that he hated thinking about. That if he could take you north to run away with him, he’d give you a son first and name him after his father. But he couldn’t think that, because you were here to be married to Robb, under the Kings command.

King Robert was…not what Jon was expecting of a King. He held the same green in his eyes, the same dark hair, and the same fierce demeanour and scowl that matched you perfectly. He could see how you looked more like Roberts daughter then his own son actually did. But he was large. Much larger then he thought, as the songs all described the great warrior King as a lean and fierce man. He could see someone who was once fierce, but perhaps, not anywhere close anymore to the word lean.

But he was the King, and as his father knelt down to the ground so did they all too. He could see in his peripherals that the King approached suddenly, a hand waving to his old friend to stand as they all followed. His father bowed with a greeting as he would any man, “Your grace.”

All waited in silence for the Kings words, but it was not what he expected, or any. “You got fat.”

No one said a word. His eyes did though, and so did yours. It was so natural, looking to you to read his eyes as he did yours. And like you were meant for one another, your sternness broke only for him. You both looked to the other right away, flickering with hidden smirks as if to joke about which one of their family members had gotten fat before you had to stop and look away lest a grin break out on you more. Jon could barley smother his, but it made him feel just a bit warmer on the inside knowing that not even the news between you both had ruined that you and he never stopped gravitating to one another.

His father though, too had a natural reaction not as proper as one expected of him. Only nodding down to the Kings very large belly as both of them burst into a laughter and bringing the other in for a hug. It wasn’t often he heard much of the King from his father, but he knew how close they one were. The King even once betrothed to Jons own Aunt Lyanna before the rebellion. Though, that felt strange to think of.

What his life would’ve looked like towards you had that taken place as was planned, and Jon wasn’t so sure he liked the thought of not having you in it the exact way you had been for fifteen years. Around him the King continued, “Nine years, where the hell have you been?”

His father only jesting with a knowing that he was guarding the North for him. One by one he greeted everyone, a jovial hug for Lady Catelyn, and personally greeting each of the Stark children. Even with a joke towards Bran asking to show him his muscles, only to tell the boy of then with a laugh, “You’ll be a solider.”

The next to approach made Prince Jofferys appearance much more obvious who he took after. The Queen was as blonde as he was and looked just like him, as did her two children beside her. The look on her own face was not quite the natural scowl it seemed the Baratheons had, but one more of genuine disdain. For what, Jon didn’t care to know. But it only grew as the King demanded Ned to take him to the crypts to pay his respects, and Queen Cersei in a rather flat tone tried to say otherwise. “We’ve been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait.”

The King didn’t listen, and thus the party begun to disperse.

He knew his place, and as Jon watched you preoccupied with climbing down off your horse, did Jon decide to leave now. He didn’t need to make you feel more conflicted by hovering around you right away, especially as he could see Robb making his way over to talk to you. Besides, between the Queen, Lady Catelyn and all the other eyes, Jon knew better then to let the bastard of Winterfell hang around these far more important people, no matter how much he wanted to talk to you.

But it was not likely. The Starks were to feast the royals at sundown, and for all the effort into making Jon look as cleaned up as the rest of them, he wasn’t permitted. Not sat down at a further table for his little brother to stop by to see him, but not at all. Told very firmly by Catelyn herself only the day before that it would be insulting to the royal family to travel all this way, only to have a bastard feasting with them. She didn’t need to say that she simply didn’t want him there in general, but neither her nor Jon needed many words for him to know that anymore. They barley talked, and when they did, it was as if Jon and Catelyn spoke a language all of their own, but that one was simply filled with spite and hate.

Weird as it was to say, but Jon and Catelyn knew each other extremely well in a way no one else did, only it was nothing but an angry and ugly side to either of them that they both tried to keep from the rest of the family for their sake. They could hate each other when they were alone, they didn’t want it to ruin the rest of the family. So she didn’t need to tell Jon she didn’t want him there, it was loud and clear without the words.

Why did he torture himself like this?

Jon hadn’t seen you, nor most of anyone all day as they prepared for the feast. Outside in the cold of the training yard, he could hear the muffle of the music inside with that bitter anger building that he wasn’t welcome. That everything was better without him in there. A painful reminder once more that Jon was raised with the Starks, but still wasn’t one of them.

Instead he tormented himself by staying close enough he could hear them in the cold, as he took his anger out with a practice sword. Something rather animalistic in him of just needing to let the anger out by hitting something. It only half worked, really. But as he was there for some time, did he hear the sudden approach of a horse. Turning to look, it was the first he smiled all day as he sat the sword to the side.

“Uncle Benjen.” Both men came in for a hug with glee. It had been a while since they saw one another at that point, but a welcome one. Always a man Jon felt like he could rely on. Even far away on the Wall at Castle Black, did his uncle always feel like someone Jon connected with. In the Nights Watch sometimes it felt like he could arrive to visit as a bit of an outsider, and Jon, the true bastard outsider would spend much time with him during his visits. Hearing about the Wall, and his brothers. Many of whom sounded too wild to be true but he swore on his mothers name that he was telling the truth.

And always glad to see him did his Uncle Benjen reassure him with an amusement. “Rode all day. Didn’t want to leave you alone with the Lannisters.” Though, in the pause it was obvious. No one was outside but Jon, and the music was muffled further away where he wasn’t. Benjen knew, but Jon appreciated that he asked anyways. “Why aren’t you at the feast?”

“Lady Stark thought it might insult the royal family to seat a bastard in their midst.” His Uncle nodded in knowing. Saying that he was always welcome on the Wall, that no bastard was ever denied a seat there and Jon all but jumped on it. He had been thinking on it more and more, he was right. His father never would let him go, but he would, if it was his own brother who proposed the idea. “So take me with you when you go back.”

“Jon-”

Cutting whatever protest he was about to say, Jon continued on jumping right to the point. “Father will let me if you ask him. I know he will.”

Both only stared at one another for a moment. Something difficult to discern on his uncles face, but Jon looked with a tense but hopeful stare. He couldn’t stay here. He had no place anymore. His father would accept being the Hand, he’d take the girls and Bran with him. Robb would act as Lord of Winterfell in his absence and Jon would be left with the mother who hates him, waiting for you to return one day and live out your new life outside of him. There was no place for Jon in Winterfell anymore, and there was only one place a bastard of the North with no meaning could find belonging in.

Sighing a bit deeply, he knew where his uncle was going with this. “The Wall isn’t going anywhere.” Jon tried, more clam and assured that he ready to swear their oath. But his Uncle had another argument, with something deeper in his eye that Jon couldn’t quite read well. “You don’t understand what you’d be giving up. We have no families. None of us will ever father sons.”

Jon though said it without thought. If he dug deeper, he’d find doubt, but that doubt was marred in the knowledge that he wouldn’t ever be able to have it with the one woman he always dreamed of it with. Jon had spent hours at night as a boy wondering how to convince his father to find a way to let Jon marry you when you both grew up, only to know it was never going to happen.

If it was true, Jon wasn’t sure, but he said it anyways just to convince his uncle. “I don’t care about that.”

There was a look in his uncles eye though, one Jon had no idea how to read. Something knowing that he didn’t understand, and yet something filled with almost a bit of sorrow. “You might. If you knew what it meant.” Jon only looked away, something he couldn’t connect in his mind with what Benjens had thought separately. Adding to him, “If you knew the cost, you might not be so eager to pay the price. You can always ask me again after you’ve fathered a few sons of your own. See how you feel then.”

Jon said nothing. Were he the young and impulsive boy he was as a teenager, he would’ve let that feeling turn to anger. Maybe burst out that he’d never have sons, because he refuses to father a bastard. To ever have a child know that life or force his to live it. But he didn’t, and he kept it all inside. Perhaps too because those thoughts of fathering sons sat a little too close to his heart, knowing the only woman he’d ever want that with, was going to be the mother of Robbs sons in no time.

If it wasn’t with you, Jon had no wish to even consider having a child. And even then, he hadn’t even gone through with that day because he refused to ruin your life or your childs life by giving you a bastard.

Instead, as a crash and laughter was heard inside, did Benjen shift the subject. Too likely suspecting Jon needed some time to linger on the thoughts. “I better get inside. Rescue your father from his guests.” Both hands came up to grab at Jons upper arms, with a reassurance that Jon could barley nod at. “We’ll talk later.”

Watching his Uncle disappear into the castle, Jon finally turned around. Picking the sword back up, but something in his bones had little energy for it left. The Wall might be Jons only chance to find purpose, and he couldn’t be denied that too. It was the one place left Jon could see himself at, could see himself being. With everything left to him being taken, he needed something and this had to be it.

Interrupting his thoughts though did an unknown voice from behind take him off guard. “Your uncle’s in the Nights Watch.” Turning around, did Jon see an approaching figure. A rather short figure with a flask in his hand but no sign it had been sipped at too much. It didn’t take an expert to know who he was. The hair and the height said it all.

But Jon looked at him with a narrowed gaze, “What are you doing back there?”

Coming close with a flat jest on his tongue he said, “Preparing for a night with your family.” Leaning against a wooden post, he glanced up to Jon with a genuine curiosity. “I’ve always wanted to see the Wall.” Jon only asked to be clear, preferring to know the proper name and title of the man he was speaking too that he was Tyrion Lannister, the Queens brother. Only for him to reply in a more sarcastic tone Jon recognized. “My greatest accomplishment.” Only to look up at him, and say it at the worst possible time for Jons mind. “And you. You’re Ned Starks bastard, aren’t you?”

Jons face just fell. No words even spoken did Jon turn to walk away entirely, he didn’t need this, not tonight, not now of all times he didn’t need to be reminded of what he was plagued with his entire life.

Tyrion Lannister for what it was worth, stopped him in his tracks with a shout that seemed both a bit surprised but genuine. “Did I offend you? Sorry.” Turning to look back at him, he swept away that apology and instead dug the knife deeper. “You are the bastard though?”

It was as good of a yes as Jon could possibly say without the word. “Lord Eddard Stark is my father.”

But it didn’t get passed Tyrion what Jon was trying to avoid. Anything to do with this discussion. And thus he spelled it out to ensure Jon understood exactly what about him he was pointing out on purpose. “And Lady Stark is not your mother. Making you, the bastard.” Jons jaw clenched looking away, hand around the hilt of the practice sword tight behind his gloves needing something to let the energy out on as it rose once more. “Let me give you some advice bastard. Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armour, and it can never be used to hurt you.”

Truly, whatever time it would take for that to sink into Jons mind, it would not do so tonight. Hardly letting the man walk three feet away before all but shouting in an accusatory tone, “The hell do you know about being a bastard?”

Jon though certainly didn’t forget the answer, a look he knew too well on himself, something almost a bit angry yet self loathing. “All dwarves are bastards in their fathers eyes.” And thus finally, Jon was left back alone in the cold.

Neither conversation gave him hope, and neither provided him with a single scrap of comfort. Until there were none left in sight but him alone did Jon finally turn around. His plan had been to put the sword away, and just abandon this place and go to bed entirely. But now that feeling returned.

Everyone had everything to say about him being a bastard as if he hadn’t been one his whole life, as if he wasn’t ruining other people’s lives by being the bastard he was. Instead of putting it away, Jon felt that anger rise to the top and burn through him before much more violently letting the sword hit at the training dummy as if hacking away at something.

If one more person tried to talk him down tonight, he might lose it. That was, until a soft, high pitched voice called to his heart from somewhere behind him. “Think he’s dead yet?”

Spinning around in an instant did Jons anger melt away, leaving nothing but that need to fill his heart. Eyes wide and bright as he looked at you, as yours were just as soft but more hesitant. You hadn’t come close as you normally would’ve. He knew why, he knew you were afraid of what he was thinking or feeling, and afraid he was mad at you for it. So you stood further back, your hands not even gloved out in this cold wringing together.

You had changed for the feast. Something a bit warmer then before, and just as beautiful but this time there were more shades of blue and dashes of what in the light may be orange. It was fancier then anything you wore when you were here, your dresses of Kings Landing likely being much more beautiful, fit for a princess. But you looked stunning no matter what to him.

Barley muttering your name, did Jon put the sword away for good and circled around to the empty space between you both. You looked behind him as Jon looked behind you and saw nothing and no one. And thus neither of you hesitated.

You approached him but Jon all but ran up to you. Grasping you in a hug, his strength easily able to pick you up and spin you in place as he held you tightly as you did him. Your voice gentle in his hear making his heart sore in his chest, “I missed you.” Only putting you back on two feet to see your hesitation had left somewhat, leaving just the softness and adoration to make the main priority.

His hands remained more firm on your upper arms, about to tell you how much he missed you, how much he missed everything about you these past months, but looking up and around he stopped himself. No one was around still, but twice now his peace was disturbed and it could again. Instead, wordlessly did Jon turn and pull you with him.

Following without protest or question, you let Jon lead you anywhere he wanted. Pulling you both into a smaller, empty armoury. Turning you to face him again, Jon almost said something, anything, but it was you. He didn’t need too. You knew what was going through his head as much as he did yours, words weren’t needed between you both. Instead, Jon pulled you into another hug.

The embrace lasting much longer then it should’ve were you somewhere eyes could spot you, and his arms hovering too long and probably too low to be appropriate for a bastard and a highborn maiden, but he didn’t care. Only pulling back enough to hold you at one upper arm to keep you there, and a hand at your waist, Jons eyes darted down to yours.

Again between you both but not touching him back now in the slightest. He knew why. You were nervous. You didn’t know what to say or do anymore and Jon hated that you felt so insecure about your future that you couldn’t even hold him as he was you. Muttering your name gently, you looked up at him with those eyes he adored more then anything.

Your voice though, cut right to the chase of what he had told you in his letter. “You’re really joining them?” Jon wouldn’t even try to lie about it, so he nodded confidently. Barley able to get half the start of a sentence out to say his peace he’d been thinking for weeks, you cut him off with something distressed. “Don’t give me that.” Your fingers twitched, wanting to reach out to him and Jon certainly caught the movement. “Don’t tell me what you think everyone else wants to hear.”

Was it the reason? Or was it just Jon cutting right to the chase of your issue as you did his? He couldn’t be sure, but in a deeper tone he said it. “You’re marrying Robb.” Instantly Jon could tell you bit your tongue, a nervous habit of yours and without hesitating did Jon reach up. His hand cupping your cheek as his thumb traced along your jaw until he felt you relax under his touch. Leaning down more he made sure you looked into his eyes as he said it. “I’m not mad at you. Neither of you really had a say in it.”

Ever so slowly, you hesitantly reached out so the tips of your fingers could start to rest against his stomach, knowing that anytime before now you wouldn’t have hesitated to touch him back when alone like this. Neither of you were really addressing the topics between you, but you continued anyways. “And you think the Nights Watch is the only place you belong?”

After everything else tonight, were it not you, Jon would’ve pulled away in frustration. But not with you, and not when his time with you was suddenly so little. “It is now.” Your head rose up to look at him again as your brows narrowed. “You’ll marry him, go back to Kings Landing with my father and sisters, and leave me what? Here with the brother who gets the one thing that used to be mine, and his mother who hates me?”

You shouted it a bit louder then you meant too, a worry and an anger that Jon had gotten the wrong idea. “Jon, I’m not trying to leave you behind.”

He only sighed, he knew that. Jaw clenched as the hand on your waist tightened he tried to reassure you but only came with words you both knew were of zero comfort. But you too were you both aware that comfort between you both was swiftly running out. “No. You’re doing your duty, and I’m doing mine.”

For a good while you both stood there, his hands on you, yours barley on his but it was too much. He missed you so desperately and he had you right here. Jon thought not of it being a good or bad idea, but he had you close, and he wanted to do it. Suddenly shifting you with the hand on your waist, Jon moved you to press your back against the wall behind you.

Stepping more into your personal space, Jon hovered over you as he leaned down. Your eyes slipped closed as he let his dark ones flicker down to you, then your lips and back before letting his close as well. Not quite kissing you yet, but no doubt he was close that you could feel his breath against your skin when you exhaled nervously. Jon almost smirked, how cute you were about being physical with him even now.

But just as he was about to press his lips finally to yours, months after almost making love to you for your first times, did it stop. A sound in the distance like a door opening and voices reminding you both where you were and why. Your head dropped suddenly as your eyes opened and something sad came over you both.

Jon never took his hands off you, instead cupping both of your cheeks and turning your head downwards a little to press a firm kiss to your forehead before resting his against it with a muttering rasp. Not telling you anything but what he didn’t say before. “I missed you too, darling.”

Everything went wrong after that. Most of the men left for a hunt with the King in the wolfswood, and somewhere between that, did Bran fall. A climber only matched by you when you were his age, Bran had climbed a thousand times. In the wind, and the rain, and he’s never fallen. But this time as he climbed the run down, empty tower on the edge of the castle walls, did Bran apparently fall.

Now in bed, none of them knew if he would make it and they could only hold on to find out. But in the middle of that new pain and grief, did the Queen make it all worse by declaring, “We still have a wedding to put on.”

He tried to keep his distance, but it wasn’t an easy task. Being around you came so naturally to Jon that he barely sometimes thought about it when he’d begin to seek you out. Many times normal you’d be found with him or him with you, but with everyone around including such watchful eyes of royals, things were different. He couldn’t spend time with you the way he wished.

Queen Cersei kept a tight leash around you much of the days. Always seeking you out or sending a handmaiden to fetch you for her, always fussing about one thing or another and he could only guess it was wedding preparations. Many times you would emerge hours later fussing with the skirt of your dress as if you had to smooth it out from changing out of it multiple times. He wasn’t sure he wanted to think about it. What it was going to look like. Jon knew what he could imagine, but likely it was nowhere near as elegant as what it could be.

Just another reminder to Jon that this was inevitable. He was always going to have to give you up. A bastard couldn’t provide you with those sorts of things, things that you deserved. But, as it turned out, a bastard wasn’t welcome in many regards with the royal family around. He spent much time it felt on the outside looking in, not being part of the dynamics around the castle in front of such grand company. And much of that time as his father thus spend with King Robert, he found his duties more lax especially as the time ticked away.

It was another inevitability now. You were going to marry Robb, and Jon would leave the next day for the Wall. How his Uncle Benjen convinced his father to say yes he wasn’t sure, but he did, and now Jon sat in the waiting for it to happen.

One afternoon he recalled finding himself sitting up on a landing with Arya, watching in the training yard as the spoiled Prince Joffery had demanded to spar with Robb. When Arya asked why he wasn’t down there, she needed little more explanation as he told her bastards aren’t permitted to spar with princes. They laughed as they watched Joffery fail time and time again to match Robbs skill, many times yelling and getting angry when Robb would knock him down, only for The Hound to remind him that he was the one who demanded Robb fight in the first place.

He had thought on the idea a lot, but now with his time here limited, Jon had looked at Arya and knew what he was planning. He could recall how according to his father, Arya reminded him of the spirit of his sister. Their Aunt Lyanna, the one whom passed after Prince Rhaegar Targaryean had kidnapped her. Their father didn’t speak of her often, but when he did it was always memorable. Jesting once that had their own father allowed it, Lyanna would’ve likely carried a sword just as her brothers did.

It was all ready to go, to be picked up the next day for the final touches and it was one of the only things Jon had to look forward too now. Others, not so much. The feeling drew further close to the day you would marry, and Jon tried to tell himself to keep his distance.

Really, he knew he had to accept this. He didn’t want to leave and you have him stuck in your memory. You knew Robb just as long as you did Jon, you were just as close in a platonic sense. You were a match that made sense, and Jon didn’t want Robb nor you to be unhappy with each other. He wanted this to work, because he knew he couldn’t give you what Robb could. It didn’t feel good, it pained in his heart to consider what life you’d have that was so much better when he wasn’t the one keeping you down, but he knew he had to let you go.

Not his love, that would remain for the rest of his days and beyond them. But, Jon was ready to bring your heart with him to the Wall. He’d keep it safe, protect it with everything he had left. That love would come with him, so you could make room for Robb. He was giving up any chance at a wife or family in the Watch anyways, and he had no plans for eyes for someone else. He’d protect your little secret love so you didn’t have to have the memory of it getting in the way of your new happiness. But that didn’t mean he was ready.

The night before he had seen you leave the castle late into the night when you should’ve been sleeping. Seeing you go to the godswood, Jon smiled. Knowing that sometimes you felt lost and confused and the sept never felt the right place for it, so you’d sit in front of the Weirwood and hope something made sense in your head there. All it took was once single glance to Ghost before he nodded.

The still small direwolf making his way down to the ground as Jon followed, only for you to be taken by surprise as Ghost thus jumped onto your lap. Almost not registering how natural it was when Jon sat down next to you, that he pulled you in close with an arm around you as your head rested against his shoulder. The perfect position for Jon to lean more over you to take in the last quiet you two would ever have together.

Your fingers running along Ghosts fur by his ears, he almost didn’t hear you, you whispered it so quietly. “We never had a chance did we?” His brows narrowed in a confusion, looking more down to you as you elaborated, not taking your eyes off the direwolf. “I mean, being with you is easy. It’s always been easy, but being together?”

Jon rested his chin on the top of your head. Breathing in deeply before rasping into the cold air, “No. No, we never had a chance.”

It stung to say, but it was the truth that you both had spent years pretending would not happen. Yet it was, and there was no more running from it. You turned your head suddenly, a tenseness in your muscles like something overwhelming came over you, partially hidden by the soft fur of his cloak. “You know right? Even if I don’t say it?”

Oh he did. Jon knew, he knew for a long time. But two scared teenagers started this love off, and never did you both quite get passed that fear to speak it out loud. But, he refused to let you and him depart the others lives with you thinking he didn’t love you. Moving to pull your face to look back up to his by your chin, his eyes were bright down at your much more sorrowful ones. “I know. And you do too.”

Back and forth for a bit you both went, jokes about wanting to kiss as if it didn’t pain you both to avoid it. Eventually, a silence simmered over when the idea came to him. Jon had his own fantasy, but his was of escape. He didn’t want that. Jon didn’t want anymore for you to think about leaving your life to make a new one, he wanted you to accept what was coming as he had to. But that didn’t mean he had to give all of you up. “Where’d we meet?” Chuckling instantly at your confused expression. “If we had a chance, in another life where’d we meet?”

“Are we still not us?”

His tone felt much easier, something more free and normal within it as if nothing was happening around you both out of your control. Pulling you a bit closer, “No, well I mean I’m still me, and you’re still you. But we’re not highborn, no titles or duties. Just two people somewhere in the kingdom. Where’d we meet?”

You squinted in thought for a while, and Jon couldn’t say he was disappointed in your answer. “I hear Highgarden is beautiful in the summer.” As far from the cold or Kings Landing as you could get, a perfect spot for two people in a new life.

Without even hesitating, Jon said it without even realizing your eyes went comically wide. “Alright. So you’re a bar maid in Highgarden, and I-”

You laughed loudly, tried to pull away as Jon kept you against him, an audacity in your tone. “Excuse me, why am I a bar maid? Isn’t this a fantasy?”

But Jon didn’t need to elaborate, he’d thought of a thousand and one scenarios in his head at ways he and you could marry and live out your lives together. There was practically no fantasy Jon had not long since thought of in depth about your future together, knowing it would be the only future you’d have. “Yes, and if you’re a bar maid, it means I have an excuse to pull this pretty little bar maid in Highgarden down onto my lap as she passes by.” Muttering with a held back amusement that such a thing was rather aggressive of him, Jon only smirked. “Maybe this particular bar maid makes me aggressive.”

Back and forth you both went. What he would do, if you stayed in Highgarden or travelled the realm elsewhere. How many children you’d both have, to which Jon kept adding to your seemingly final conclusion of two, until he managed to bend your arm and get you to agree on five. By the time it was too late for you both to be awake, your other lives had been planned and settled.

Ghost sensing Jon was ready to leave, leaped out of your lap to the ground. Shaking out his fur to wake himself up as you both watched with fond smiles. You turned to look back up at him first, his hands resting without care at your waist and you held gentle at the wrists holding you. Jon knew better then to try and kiss you the night before you married his brother, it would put a selfish need for him onto you and add to the guilt he knew you were already going to struggle with. And Jon didn’t want that.

Raising one hand to cup your cheek, Jons heart skipped at how easily you leaned into his thumb running over the soft skin. “Don’t look for me in the ceremony.” Your eyes widened before narrowing in what he knew right away was a panic, and he put out that fire before you could even think otherwise. Leaning down to meet your eye level better, he spoke slower to make sure you understood him. “I’ll be there, but don’t look for me. You’re going to be Robb’s now, and I want you to be okay with accepting that.”

Nodding, he made you promise out loud to ensure you understood him.

Never letting the thumb running along your cheek stop, Jon told the painful truth. It didn’t feel good for him to say, but he said it for you. He knew you needed to hear it, he didn’t want you to go into tomorrow upset about betraying Jon when he’d never feel that way about you, or about Robb. “You’ll be each others tomorrow, and I’ll be at the Wall. I want you two to be there for each other. No matter what. Besides,” With a bit of brevity he just told the truth he’s seen in the countless girls who gave Robb those very looks. “Robb’s easy to fall in love with, and I think it’s impossible not to fall at least a little in love with you.”

Swallowing roughly you nodded again before Jon carefully pulled you into his arms. A hand running down your hair he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, before muttering for you to go on and get to bed. Sending you off first was on purpose. He didn’t want you to linger with him on your mind. Jon needed you to be okay with being Robb’s, and he himself, just needed to get through these next few days. He had an entire life at the Wall to grieve about you.

In a complete truth, Jon as sure your wedding as as much a blur to you as it was to him. Not even your father was there to walk you, not the King who did it, but Ned Stark himself. It seemed fitting, the man who was more of a father to you then any of your family by blood, and he walked you to the Weirwood. As if not giving you away, but being the one to welcome you to being a true part of the family from here on in. As he moved to stand with the rest of the crowd, Jon pretended not to notice his father giving him a look.

Jon was too distracted. He hated the dress you wore. You looked beautiful, but you didn’t look comfortable at all. It was…well it was rather tight fitting for a girl like you. You preferred long sleeves, gowns that flowed along the ground like a curtain in the wind, and less bold designs but more colours that were sewn into the stitches to make things stand out ever the slightest. This was not you. His eyes glanced to the Queen and he knew right away whose dress really this was made for, but just forced onto you.

Northern weddings were quiet. No septon, no one up there but the bride and groom. Some spoke words out loud, some didn’t, but the man would drape her with his fur and they’d prey before the Weirwood. Jon watched, but didn’t seem to pay attention to it. Robb would never make a scene out of it anyways, and certainly not when it was clear you were incredibly nervous. Perhaps it was the only thing Jon focused on. The gentle way Robb tilted your face up by your chin for a short, and gentle kiss. Normally such events were followed by more festive acts, many times the man carrying his new bride to the feast with a rambunctious energy, but their father clearly understood better right now. Giving the crowd the chance to go there first and give yourself and Robb a moment alone.

Jon didn’t hesitate to leave the godswood. It’s what he asked of you, and it’s what he wanted, but he couldn’t take it. The kiss was just the tipping point. You didn’t look at Jon once the whole ceremony, and he couldn’t get to the Wall fast enough.

Jon remembered very little of the feast he actually had indeed attended, by the time morning came. Sitting more down away from the main table you and Robb sat at, he couldn’t stand any of it. He knew the look on your face better then anyone. It was the same apprehensive one you wore for him when he undressed you completely only months before. Wanting not to appear scared but coming off as it anyways in such an innocent way. Only, it wasn’t Jons bed you were nervous for.

It was Robbs. And Jon knew better then to think that you’d back down tonight. You backed down with Jon because you were scared, and there were no duties. You both thought you had all the time to get there, and there was nothing attached to it. Robb would never insist on it, but Jon knew you and he knew you would go through with it tonight no matter what.

In your head, you still had one duty left to become a proper wife and-

Eyes closing as his hand tightened around the mug full of ale, he let an exhale forced out through gritted teeth. A darkness was starting to rise in his chest. Something much more like a wolf as he watched you both. Robb would try and calm your nerves, just small mutters in your ear and a hand on your leg to ground you. You both looked good together. You fit well at Robbs side. Of course you did. You were basically a princess, of course you fit married to the Heir to Winterfell.

But Jon knew you first. He was the one who spent three days and three nights taking care of you. He was the one who brought you out of your shy shell. He kissed you for the first time, he touched you for the first time, your first orgasms were his, he was the one who knew first what a beautiful sight your bare body was. It was Jon who almost made love to you first. And yet, the one last act that mattered most, and Robb was the one who would get it.

The logical part of Jons brain knew it was the alcohol doing it, drinking more then he should’ve. He knew it was the part of him that was drunk that was angry and jealous, and he didn’t really blame Robb for any of this. But that dark, drunk part of Jons head despised all of it. Around him too he heard whispers of a bedding ceremony.

Never in a million lifetimes would Jon put you through that, and were he sober, Jon knew Robb would never either. But drunk? He feared it. He feared it would happen, and being Robbs eldest brother he’d be forced to participate and there was no chance he could handle that right now. Looking up at you once more, Jon barley let his eyes stay for a second before suddenly pushing up from the table.

Lucky for him, he was just a bastard, and no one who noticed cared when the bastard abruptly left the table and disappeared into the darkness beyond the hall. He thought nothing of it at the time, a little too drunk and rattled to care, but on his angry way out he nearly ran right into Ser Jaime Lannister.

The man only standing there with a curious expression for a few seconds still in his way before Jon roughly snapped out, “Pardon.” Before he relented with what looked like a mocking expression as he moved out of the way. The Kingslayer said nothing to Jon, but he felt the mans stare until he turned the corner out of sight, nor was he sober enough to care why.

Jon stayed well away from any of the main bedchambers that night. The walls of Winterfell were thick stone, made to act as an insulation to keep the warmth in, but it also muffled most sounds. He’d never be able to hear anything, and certainly not from his further away, but he couldn’t risk it. He wanted to know nothing about what you’d be like laying with his brother.

He didn’t sleep at all in the end. As if to torture himself, Jon ended up back in the godswood. He felt lost, and sometimes the eyes of the old gods were the only ones where Jon could go to try and bring himself back down to the ground. He sat with his back firm up against the tree near the carved face, Ghost following closely before laying in Jons lap with a whine. Perhaps trying to comfort him, but it too felt a bit like something in Ghost was just as upset as Jon was. As if in the short time the direwolf knew you, he was losing you as well.

Luckily for Jon though, by the time the morning sun rose its weary head did he feel what was left in his system disappear for good. Pushing himself up, he looked down at Ghost with a sigh, the direwolf matching in expression. “You better go say goodbye too. Might be a while before we see any of them again.”

Jon had a lot to do in a short period of time, but at least was awake before most to ensure that he was ready to go. What of his belongings he was bringing packed up, but Jon had a few stops to make, but two were the most important. Though, the first of which required an extra trip. Down outside as Jon waited for the last of the details to be finished with the blacksmith, the very last thing Jon wanted to happen, decided to do so.

He somewhat recalled running into Jaime Lannister the night before, but he was pissed off and rather drunk at the time, but it seemed it was enough to catch his attention. Approaching him from behind, he called out first. “A sword for the Wall?” Turning to look at the approaching figure, Jon could only comment that he already had one. Yet the questions kept coming, “Have you swung it yet?” Of course he had, but the man had a different direction in mind. One Jon couldn’t comprehend why he was asking. “At someone I mean?” They both knew the answer was no, but instead of mocking like he wondered if the man would swing at him, Jaime Lannister said something rather honest yet odd. “It's a strange thing, the first time you cut a man. You realize we're nothing but sacks of meat and blood and some bone to keep it all standing.”

Jon didn’t trust when he held his hand out, but took it out of courtesy anyways with a suspicious look in his eye. The mocking came then, just as he knew it would. “Let me thank you ahead of time for guarding us all from the perils beyond the Wall. Wildlings and White Walkers and whatnot.” Instantly Jon tried pulling away, but was yanked back forward with an equal strength as the man twisted the knife just a bit further. “We’re grateful to have good, strong men like you protecting us.”

Trying to walk away, he didn’t get very far almost as if he assumed Jon would say something, which he did. Trying to keep an even tone, and not start anything despite the anger sitting with him. “We’ve guarded the kingdoms for eight thousands years.” Mockingly, Jaime Lannister asked if he were speaking as we already, asking with a condescending tone if he took his vows yet. “Soon enough.”

The look the man gave Jon, he had no idea what it meant. Something more serious flashing across his eyes before he sauntered back over and covering whatever that emotion was with more mocking. “I can only hope you got everything out of your system before hand. Or, gotten into something you’ve always wanted before you can never have her.” Jons grey eyes grew darker and narrowed, as the man leaned in for only him to hear. “Do yourself a favour, and do one last dishonourable thing with such a pretty girl before you never have the chance again.” Neither of them expected a single word out of Jon, as he begun to stand back more, louder this time for all around to hear. “Give my regards to the Night's Watch. I'm sure it will be thrilling to serve in such an elite force. And if not, It's only for life.”

He had to ignore it, any of it. He didn’t have the time nor patience to figure out what he meant, if he knew, and if so, how in the seven hells did Jaime Lannister put that together when years around the same people everyday hadn’t yet. He had to focus, it was his last day, and his time was growing ever shorter.

Arya reacted just as he expected, excited by the idea but more touched he actually did it. A small, skinny sword made special for her. He couldn’t be there to teach her, but he could give her the first step, and her first lesson if just a handful of playful words she all but rolled her eyes at. Having to pull back when she went in for a hug, “Careful.” Realizing the sword still in her hand, she’d have a long way to go, but Jon would be proud of her no matter what.

Without much thought, Jon expected it as much as she did. Short as ever, Arya jumped high into Jon as he caught her without a second thought, and with ease. He loved all his siblings, but he’d miss Arya a great amount as she would him. They were always the outcasts in their own family, in their own unique ways and that made it easy to always look out for the other. “All the best swords have names you know.”

Thinking for a moment, Arya found a fitting name only she could ever come up with. “Sansa can keep her sewing needles. I’ve got a Needle of my own.” Neither rushed to pull away, but she had to finish packing and Jon had another stop to make. One that would be much more unpleasant then this.

Catelyn glared at him the moment she turned her head to see him. Jon stood in the open door, seeing his little brother still as unconscious as he was the day before, and the one before that for countless nights now. He didn’t blame her as a mother for staying at his bedside, but it meant he had to do this with her there. “I came to say goodbye to Bran.”

Dismissive as ever, she managed to just spit out without looking back at him, “You’ve said it.”

Were this years ago, when Jon was still a teenager, it would’ve been worse. Their relationship then was hostile and volitle. He had an impulsive temper and she had no patience to put up with it the way his father tried to get her to do. He may have challenged her, she’d have threatened to call the guards and Jon would’ve called her bluff knowing she’d never cause a scene like that.

But he wasn’t that teenager anymore, he was a man who knew better. So instead, he ignored her completely. Walked into the room to the other side of Brans bed, looking down to the boy who would wake up and not realize Jon even had plans like this to leave. He felt Catelyns eyes on him, angry he had walked in regardless of what she tried to convey to him.

It wasn’t about her though, it was about Bran. Only a boy of ten, but Jon had seen his face nearly every single day since he was born and for that he considered himself extremely lucky. And leaving him wasn’t easy, especially like this, especially when he knew if he were here when he woke up, Bran would be upset he was gone. “I wish I could be here when you wake up. I’m going north with Uncle Benjen, I’m talking the black.”

Eyes glancing up to Catelyn, he knew this was out of his comfort. Doing this in front of her, but he wasn’t going to push it and ask her to leave and he wasn’t going to leave Bran without saying goodbye. So, instead Jon knelt down to Brans bedside, leaning more to him with a soft and gentle tone hoping his little brother could hear him asleep. “I know we always talked about seeing the Wall together, but you'll be able to come visit me at Castle Black when you're better. I'll know my way around by then. I'll be a sworn brother of the Night's Watch. We can go out walking beyond the Wall, if you're not afraid.”

Jon risked the glance, and regretted it. There likely was a lot running through Catelyns head towards him. Even when he only wanted an honest moment with his brother, she still didn’t have it in her to just ignore him, no she always had to haunt over Jons life and remind him exactly why he didn’t feel welcome here anymore in the first place. With a force to say it, but a seething anger whispered behind it she nearly hissed it at him. “I want you to leave.”

The footsteps caught both of their attention. Turning to look, was Ned Stark standing there, watching the unusual and tense scene. Rarely could Jon ever be found alone in the room with Catelyn, but with the sleeping Bran between them, it was clear what was going on and he said nothing. Knowing Jon picked up on the silent indication to give him and his wife a moment alone. Standing up, Jon leaned over the bed. Running a hand over the top of his brothers head, pressing a kiss to his forehead with the only hope that he indeed, will wake up one day.

He said nothing further to Bran, Catelyn or his father. Only shifting around him to leave as his father eventually closed the door behind him. Jon didn’t want to linger anymore then he had too. He was the sore spot between his father and her. The stain on her husbands reputation, the walking memory living with her own children that her husband brought another womans son home. He was the rift in the family, and he knew if was the spite and hatred of Catelyn that was the driving force behind getting Jon to this point.

But, as the morning continued, his time grew short.

He hadn’t seen you until that moment. You were around, but you were avoiding him. Not that Jon blamed you. You of all people would have no idea what to say. Not just being a married woman now, but what to say about all of this. About leaving, both of you. He could see you as he prepared his own horse, you having clearly tended to your own for some time no doubt as a way to try and distract yourself from everything away from people.

But he heard Robbs voice before he saw him, and for once, didn’t feel that jealousy. “You say goodbye to Bran?” Nodding, Robb did as he always did. Even when he himself wasn’t sure, he spoke confident for the rest of them. If he was calm and sure, then his younger siblings would be and Jon felt something warm yet tight in his heart that no matter what, Robb did the same for him here too. “He’s not going to die, I know it.”

Jon, covered his own up with something clever, which Robb knew too well was hiding his real worries. “You Starks are hard to kill.” Asking with a wonder about his mother, knowing no doubt Jon would’ve had a run in with her, but he wasn’t here to cause problems. Leaving was supposed to solve them, and he started with a lie he knew Robb likely didn’t quite believe. “She was very kind.”

“Good.” Facing the other finally, he only jested towards him. “Next time I see you, you’ll be all in black.”

With a shrug, he returned the light gesture. Nothing needing to be heavy said between them. “It was always my colour.” Jon and Robb had the other for their entire lives. Their closest companions since the day they met as mere infants. Raised together, trained together, did everything together and only ever added others to that already close dynamic. Before you came along, Robb was Jons only real friend and Jon was Robbs.

No matter the jealousy about who he was, what he was and who he got, there was not a single part of Jon in his bones that could ever hate his brother. Not even close. Robb knew that, he knew all that, but never let that get in the way either and neither of them needed to say that this was the first time they’d be truly apart in their entire lives and it wasn’t as easy as either of them were making it out to be.

“Farewell, Snow.”

“And you, Stark.”

Both went in for a hug at the same time. Tight and full of everything they didn’t say, that they were brothers, and being apart was going to be harder now then if they had done so in easy times. Pulling back, Robb though nodded his head to the side. Indicating over to where you were now very obviously trying to ignore both of them.

Jon knew what he meant. If he let you, you would leave right now and not say goodbye to Jon, because you didn’t know how to handle the fact that you were taking this a lot harder then you let on. Robb wasn’t the only one who was watching someone who was a massive part of his life, seek out a new one away from them.

Nodding, he watched his brother walk away before turning to look to you. It was more then that though, something strange felt like it was settling in Jons stomach. Something unpleasant he couldn’t understand, but that begged him to go to you. As if he would let you leave this way in the first place.

Grabbing what remained of your things not yet packed up, Jon did it for you with more ease then you could. Nothing about you looked any different, in fact, you almost looked like you felt that same bitter sensation inside that Jon was beginning to feel. More then the heartbreak of saying goodbye, but something much stronger as if trying to warn him of something.

As you turned to look up at him though, it was all still there. One night didn’t take it away, that love still flourished in your eyes looking up at him and it gave Jon the only comfort he could get left. That you still loved him and he still loved you. He’d take your love with him, so you could be free to give your love to Robb, but you both could part knowing that Jon would protect your love for the rest of his life.

Company be damned, Jon didn’t care. Pulling you tightly into his arms, you wrapped your around him just as needing as he felt. His hand gently cupped the back of your head as your face was hidden halfway between his neck and the soft furs muffling your voices. He spoke first, a deep rasp in your ear only for you. “I miss you.”

“I miss you.”

You both knew what you wanted to say, but mourning the loss of it was easier to start now then to finally say then when it was too late. Pulling back, your hands held at his shoulders while Jon shamelessly cupped your cheeks both both hands. It slipped out with a grin, but it have you a watery laugh that made it all worth it to him. “Think I could get to the Wall before they catch me, if I kiss you now?”

Tilting your head with a smile you muttered softly, “Now or never, Snow.”

Slowly Jon leaned forward, truly almost as if he was to press his lips to yours, but turned to leave a sweet and lingering kiss to your cheek. The closest he could get for the rest of his life. And he’d take it. Not pulling away he pulled you close once more, letting himself take his time for the last time.

A small whine interrupted though, you glancing down with a sudden bright grin. Ghost ran up to you it seemed before you could leave without saying goodbye to him as well. Kissing Ghost on the forehead, he licked your other cheek as you ran your hands along his fur. A loving whisper you knew Jon could hear as he watched you with his wolf, in a way that only you were ever so soft with him. “Protect him, no matter what you hear me?” Next time I see him, you better make sure he’s as healthy as you are now.”

You, Jon, nor Ghost could’ve had a clue how painful in irony that would come to fruition one day.

It wasn’t a goodbye the same as others, but along the Kingsroad there was a parting way where you turn south to go along to the path eventually leading to Kings Landing, and the other the path eventually leading to Castle Black. Jon Snow and Ned Stark both sat at that crossing atop their horses, a moment for only the two of them.

Jon could see you in the distance waiting. Staying far away enough so you could ensure you did not accidentally hear them, but enough you could still watch them. Waiting for his father to return and you’d join him. But it was his father who spoke at that moment with something both proud yet almost worried in him that he didn’t say. Or didn’t know how to. “It’s a great honour serving in the Nights Watch. The Starks have manned the Wall for thousands of years.” He had no words to say why, but hearing his father say what he said next, never left Jons heart for years to come. “And you are a Stark. You may not have my name, but you have my blood.”

Looking down, Jons brows furrowed. It was a chance, a chance that never worked before. He never got any answers from his father about her, but Jon asked because he always wanted to know. “Is my mother alive? Does she know about me? Where I am, where I’m going?” Looking at him, the real question came out in a raw, gentle wonder. “Does she care?”

His father though, it was a look Jon had never seen before. Something painful, truly painful. A conflict weighing so heavily on his shoulders that he spent Jons entire life keeping it to himself no matter the cost it was taking on him. But, he looked at Jon and was as honest as Jon had been asking. “The next time we see each other, we’ll talk about your mother. I promise.”

Jon nodded, it was more then he’d ever gotten about it before and he’d take it. Watching his father ride off, you didn’t yet turn to join. Instead, you looked to Jon as he did to you.

Why Jon knew, he couldn’t have an idea, but he did. You felt it. This feeling dark and ill in the pit of your stomach, you felt it. As if screaming not to leave the other behind in a way that was so strong it scared him. But you said nothing, and neither did he. His life was up North now, and yours was family and duty, both of which Jon couldn’t get in the way of any longer.

He always knew he wasn’t good enough for you. He was a bastard, he could never give you anything of value beyond the love in his heart and that wasn’t enough for a girl like you. You deserved everything, and Robb would give you everything. Jon would have your love and keep it tucked away with his, and you both would at least know that even if you loved another, Jon would always love you. That was all he could ask for that this point, that you never forgot that he loved you more then anything.

You took off in the other direction as suddenly as he did, needing to turn and leave before that screaming feeling caused Jon to go after you. Riding off in opposite directions, that sinking feeling just screamed louder and louder the further away you both got.

Neither of you having any idea, what horrors would bring you two back to one another.

[elysianightsss]

Limerence | Three

C H A P T E R T H R E E

limerence / lim-ê-rêns / (noun)

“Obsessive romantic attraction towards another person”

Summary: In which the owners of Jujutsu Incorporated, the Ôgami brothers, are suddenly interested in you.

Pairing: Alpha!Sukuna x reader, Alpha!Itadori x reader, Alpha!Gojo x reader, Alpha!Geto x reader, Alpha!Nanami x reader, Alpha!Kenjaku x reader

Status: Ongoing.

Genre: werewolf au, soulmate, polyamory relationship, angst, fluff, omegaverse, a/b/o dynamics.

Warnings: smut, violence, mentions of knotting, heats, ruts, insecurities, some descriptions of reader’s body, mention of possible ED, omegaspace, domdrop, swearing, blood, depression, suicidal thoughts, possessiveness, obsessive thoughts, Alpha tendencies.

Chapter Warnings: Omega’s being abused and killed, swearing, scent description, size difference - I’m not sorry Kenjaku is the biggest Alpha here and I’m not willing to argue about it, dark themes, Kenjaku kills someone but what else is new, self deprecation, anxiety attack, pup - yes that’s a warning.

Masterlist | Chapter two | Chapter four

Taglist: @better-imagination-9 @tiredjuniper @jjkz @honeybeeboobaa @cherryblossomdelusion @dependsonthedream @alluresenses @qardasngan @imcamboaf @ondragonhonour @misscaller06

Taglist is open.

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Previously on Limerence:

“I can’t do this!” You screeched hands gripping at your hair in frustration, “why would I of all people be gifted six alphas?!” You cried desperately wanting to know the answer. Gifted. He guesses that’s a good sign, at least you thought of a mate as a gift rather than a curse.

You blink up at both men and realise, your living room has never looked so small, they take up so much space. With just two of them the place is tiny, how’s it going to look with six of them? Your mind bounces around, worry still present and spinning you into a tizzy, yet you practically preen when Kenjaku’s eyes travel over you like he can see underneath your clothes. It makes a tense feeling in the pit of your stomach start to form, a feeling you’re not familiar with.

You suddenly wanted to be wrapped in their strong arms, you note that they both look like the warriors the news makes them out to be. Huge, brawny and very attractive. How were they yours? How were you worthy of this? And how were they going to ever love you when they find out what you did?

The world had changed a lot since 2013, the year werewolfs came into existence. Before they were just made up, thought to only exist in really bad movies paired with an emotionless vampire, that or Reddit forums.

Mass panic ensued with the werewolf epidemic but the world did what it had to and adapted. Around nine months later, Alphas began presenting. And the whole world literally went to shit. Going from humans to werewolves was one thing, everyone’s DNA literally changing yet people adapted. The world was still in the early stages of adaptation when suddenly men’s personalities, needs, desires, the way they think, eat, sleep. All of it, changed by becoming Alphas.

Their instincts were out of control. Being confused and unable to understand what was happening to them. However, trying their best, they continued to live their lives as usual. And as if it was a series of cruel tricks, the last trick was played on mankind, omegas began presenting. Once again things changed.

It had the Alphas going crazy. Omegas were pushed into heats the longer they spent around undated Alphas in an attempt to push out their pheromones so their mates could find them. This only made things worse. Dazed and delusional Omegas coming onto Alphas were beaten black and blue, some were killed. The Alpha’s inner wolves becoming angered by an Omega who wasn’t their mate trying to breed with them, this was left unchecked for far too long until Kento created Jujutsu Incorporated in 2017.

Kento remembers the exact moment he decided he was going to do something about the destruction that had befallen the world. The news was playing on the television, he and his brothers watching intensely as the news anchor reported that in the last week twenty seven Omegas had been abused and fourteen had been killed by unhinged Alphas. Kento ignored the jagged inhale from one of the pink haired men on the other sofa watching too, instead he got up and headed straight to his study. The idea had come to him and he had to write it down, he had to plan.

The company’s main purpose was to train Alphas to hone their werewolf instincts and abilities. For man to create a peaceful bond with beast in order to control them so the abuse of Omegas would be stopped. At first it was only worried parents sending their newly presented aggressive sons to the training compound thinking it was some sort of correctional facility and in a way it was.

Soon grown men decided signing up, then men who had committed crimes against Omegas were court sanctioned to go. Before long it became mandatory for every male who was of age to be sent there and trained. Now every year when Alphas present they are instantly signed up to be sent to Jujutsu Incorporated.

Seven years, fifty two awards, millions given by governments all over the world and some failed attempts from other companies to try and recreate what they made, later, Jujutsu Incorporated saved the world and they are thanked everyday for it.

-

While Sukuna and Kenjaku tried to calm you down and reason with you to meet the rest of the pack. Kento, Yuji, Suguru and Satoru were slowly, but surely, loosing it. The longer they were away from their mate after the bond snapped into place, the more aggressive they became. Their body temperatures rising, all their sweet scents turning sour as the stress increased.

Since Kento caught a whiff of your sweet vanilla-cinnamon scent on Sukuna’s clothes, he couldn’t get the sweet smell out of his head. He’d give anything to bury his face in it. It would be so much better than the awful smells surrounding him at this very moment. Baring in mind that on a good day Kento’s scent was usually the sweetest chocolate fudge cake, but with the growing need to have his mate with him not being sated, it had spiked to a burnt over cooked type smell. Yuji’s went from honeyed strawberry milk to wet dog. Suguru’s went from a delightful caramel coffee to rotten food. Satoru’s went from freshly baked cookies to sewers on a hot day.

The office reeked.

Kento felt the tension in the room, worry crawling up his throat as he had the realisation he might have to scruff one or two of his pack mates if they don’t calm down soon. There are several ways that pack alphas can control their packmates, with pheromones is one of them, but scruffing is easily the most effective. Scruffing is distinctly pack alpha behavior. The inherent dominance in one alphas pheromones over another is essential for a pack alpha.

He remembers growing up he was never really the leader type, instead he was rather shy and withdrawn. He didn’t have many friends nor did he wish to make any, much preferring to be alone with a good book. Kento became even more withdrawn when his father died of a heart attack. It was a shock to the system and instead of the brothers banding together to help one another grieve they all mourned alone.

When Kento made the change into a werewolf he loved it, becoming a werewolf only amplified who he already was yet somehow when he discovered his role as packleader he stepped into it like he was born to lead. Kento figured out his role in the pack when Yuji and Satoru were scrapping each other and it got a bit too violent. Without meaning to he used his Alpha tone on the boys and they instantly stopped to obey him. It was strange, the brothers tried to use their own Alpha tones on each other though the experiment had no results. Only Kento could do it.

Another reason Kento loved being a werewolf was that it brought his broken family back together as one. As a pack. They lived together, ate together, trained together, shifted together and ran together as one. It gave him a profound sense of love and happiness that he was able to have his brothers back in his life, though there was always something missing. You.

Kento had to pacify his desire to run out of the room straight to you. He was sick of waiting. His wolf just wanted to bring you to their house and give you everything you could ever want. You would never need to leave the nest he would lovingly watch you build. You would be provided for, protected, and sated, all while you’d have prettiest smile on your face. His wolf chirped happily simply thinking about being in your presence and caring for you. He was eager for you to be here with him.

And as if by magic, the office doors opened Sukuna strolling inside with a shit eating grin on his face, Kenjaku not far behind with the cutest little omega clinging onto the sleeve of his arm. You were here.

It wasn’t the sweet the way you were basically hiding behind his brother that disarmed him, it wasn’t even the way your pretty wide eyes stared up at him with a spec of fear shining in them. But smelling you in person, fuck, breathing in your invigorating scent the way he needed to, letting it swirl around him and leave him feeling hazy and high, all his thoughts disappearing. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

You do have to admit it was a rash decision to come here and meet the rest of the pack, it took a lot of convincing and encouragement by Sukuna and Kenjaku before you hesitantly said yes. And it was very hesitantly. The whole car ride there was silent, Kenjaku sitting in the back with you as Sukuna drove to Jujutsu Incorporated Headquarters. Subconsciously your omega was drifting towards the stoic black haired Alpha. Your Omega knowing that Kenjaku’s wolf was the scariest one out of the two just meant he was the best to protect you. His dominant aura was something you definitely didn’t want to mess with. So when you arrived and you were unsure wether you wanted to get out the car or not, all he had to do was offer his hand and send you a look and you were scrambling out of the car quickly grabbing onto him. He looked down at you letting out a grunt of disapproval when you let go of his large hand but seemed satisfied when you gripped onto the sleeve of his black leather jacket instead. You found yourself looking up at the big Alpha for his approval before you could stop yourself, even when you shook your head at yourself and looked away it was too late. Kenjaku had already grunted out a good pup that made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

The praise had you holding onto his jacket the whole walk to the elevator, the whole elevator ride and all the way into the office where you now stood trying to use Kenjaku’s big muscular body to hide from the four new pairs of eyes trying to catch a glimpse of you.

The fact that you, such a fragile small thing compared to him, was using him as a shield instead of running scared from him was baffling. Kenjaku was never a very nice guy, even as a child he was dubbed as the emo kid who you should never approach. Always getting into fights at school and that was before his father died, Kenjaku only go worse when he did.

And when Kenjaku became a werewolf he was even more violent than before, his vicious tendencies heightened along with his senses. He remembers all the bar fights, forest fights, street fights he go into finding a thrill within the rage. The night more vivid than all the fights though, was the night he killed another Alpha. And liked it.

It had been an accident, the man had started a fight with him and he was clearly drunk. Sober Kenjaku had only tried to defend himself but after pushing the drunken werewolf away he kept going, it snapped something in Kenjaku and he saw red. He beat the man to death and his wolf glowed with pride, the primal instinct to be the top Alpha male coming to light. He didn’t want to like it, but he did. That night he had buried the man in the forest with his bare hand, hours later he returned home caked in dirt, blood and sweat. He confessed to his brothers what he had done.

From then on he trained with Sukuna who taught him control over his wolf and his aggressive side, spending years dedicated to learning to control himself, still Kenjaku is easily the scariest and strongest Alpha in the pack. That’s why he was made The Ghost, The Shadow, The man behind the scenes who takes care of troubled Alphas. Also taking care of any crimes or accusations against the company.

The Killer Alpha. And you were choosing him to cling to, to protect you, this had his chest puffing out with pride. The little Omega and the big bad Alpha.

You were completely stuck to Kenjaku’s side as you started to let your anxiety turn your mind against you. These men were your mates? They all wanted you? Impossible. You couldn’t do this. Fuck sake, you had taken a big step coming here and you were just back to where you had started an hour ago. A numb feeling taking over you, your brain’s way of saving you from the stress of this situation.

The big man you were clinging to was towering over you with worried eyes as your short panicked breaths filled the room. “Princess?”

“Is she okay?”

“Are you okay?”

“Bunny you good?”

You were clearly having a moment of panic, not answering any of them. Their questions making you more antsy by the second. Everything felt like it was upside down at this very moment in time. Like the world was spinning.

Your other hand came up to grip onto Kenjaku’s jacket, desperately trying to use it to ground yourself. “Fuck I-“ you shivered, stumbling over your words as your couldn’t breathe properly.

“What is it pup? Hmm, what do you need princess?” Kenjaku remembered your reaction to the pet name from earlier instantly stepping into roll as the Alpha you needed surprising his brothers though they all knew with you around now, they’d be displaying sides of themselves they’ve never seen of each other before.

“I-I can’t,” you shook your head falling to your knees, Kenjaku fell with you holding you up, “I. I c-can’t, I can’t, I can’t do this.” You hiccuped at the end of your broken sentence, your fingers gripping so tightly onto the Alpha while your whole body shook.

“I know.” His words had your head shooting up, tear filled eyes meeting his, “but I’m going help you. If this is too much, then we will only do what you’re comfortable with. We just want to make you happy pup.” His body made him say the words, and he was glad it did. You were nodding as you listened, eyes focusing on every detail on his face while he spoke, his brown almond shaped eyes, sloped nose, the light freckles under his eyes, his plump lips.

“I don’t know how.” There was a hidden meaning behind it and all six alphas desperately wanted to know but they knew now was not the time. They could wait. Right now they had to focus on calming you down, getting you to relax.

Kenjaku felt his heart ache at the sight of your wobbly bottom lip all jutted out, you tear filled eyes and red face. You were so precious. Then and there he swore to protect you at all costs, even if he had to sell his soul, as long as you were safe. That’s all that mattered to him. “It’s okay pup, I’ll show you how.”

[ladydeath-vanserra]

I think it'd be interesting to talk about how Rhysand does display some narcissistic tendencies but I don't trust this Fandom to not RUN with it bec some of yall cannot separate the fact someone with narcissistic traits can also not be an abuser and NPD is the result of severe trauma, just like other personality disorders. some of yall lack the empathy and expertise to be able to talk about something like that

Rhys' upbringing as a HLs son, being super duper powerful, being the apple of his mother's eye while also being detested by his own people does provide warning signs of someone being at risk of narcissistic traits

does he have narcissistic traits? sure. does THAT make him an abuser? no! Is he still abusive tho? yes!

but yall 🫵🏻 cannot have that conversation with the respect, empathy and nuance it requires

[meaningofaeons]

Ehhh hi! I love your work so i wanted to ask for hcs with star rail men and kafka (choose whoever you want) with gn!reader or s/o who has a lot of childhood trauma. I mean brutal emotional and physical abuse from a really young age, a lot of scars, blood, sa, ect. How would (star rail character) react to s/o telling them about their past/ seeing s/o's scars? Pls angst🙏. If you dont like the request, just ignore this. Have a nice day/night! -anon

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ old scars die hard

⊹ character(s) - sampo koski, kafka, jing yuan ⊹ word count - 1.3k ⊹ notes - gn!reader, TW!! themes of abuse both emotional and physical, self-harm tendencies (not touched on as much but possibly implied?), etc. please read with caution and heed the warnings!!!

hi anon omg I hope you're okay (ﾐዎ ﻌ ዎﾐ)ﾉ I don't know whether this is personal to you and your experiences or not but regardless!! this req touched me I know it's been sitting in my ask box for a while but I wanted to do it proper justice. I love you anon and I hope you are doing well <3!!! thanks for the req!

⊹ Sampo Koski

He's not super concerned at first when he sees the first signs of scars

I mean, he's had his fair share of run-ins with disgruntled "customers". His scars are more numerous than yours, he'd assume.

That is, until he remembers you're not really in the same line of fire that he can typically find himself in

That's what gets him wondering.

Sampo's not really one to get into emotional vulnerability, and I don't think he'd ask you first

Unless of course, you started to gain new ones under his watch

If he's known you for a while, I feel like he'd have questioned it often until you told him to stop, and then he'd be kind of reluctant to bring it up again.

However, if you two are fairly new friends/partners, he'd dance around the issue but try to confront it regardless.

Especially if the abuse is current from people currently in your life or something you recently inflicted on yourself, he'd try to mention/address it in a roundabout way.

"That doesn't look so hot, Y/N! Might wanna see Miss Nat for it. What, you getting into the business of scam—aheh, I mean, customer service—too?"

Sampo tries to keep it light, but when he notices the way you tremble at the acknowledgement he makes of your wounds, his face crumples.

He's instantly apologizing, instantly doing anything to make you feel even a little better.

Offering to take you out to lunch, buy you something nice, or just get some takeout food and watch a show together.

I feel like Sampo, being relatively unequipped to seriously handle stuff like this (considering he's very much a humor-cope kind of person) would be especially frantic in trying to assuage your troubles

Whatever you want! Seriously, he'll bend over backwards for you, especially when you're vulnerable.

Sampo Koski may not be the most sensitive or empathetic, but he knows when to hold the quips and jokes.

He's a very good listener, though. It's honestly pretty shocking.

Now, Sampo's not much of a violent criminal.

Yes, he's a conman, but usually his plans involve escape over actual fighting back.

Still, when he hears about those who have made you suffer, he's not going to stand by.

In the cover of night, after tending to your wounds (both physical and emotional), he'd be off.

He won't kill them. But Sampo sure as hell will make sure they wouldn't even think of coming within five miles of you ever again.

And you'll never find out about it, either.

All that will happen is your life improving because your abuser will be out of it, and Sampo is perfectly content melding back into his usual joking self, bringing as much normalcy to your more peaceful life as he can.

⊹ Kafka

At first, I think Kafka sees your scars/wounds and is kind of... uninterested? Or perhaps less uninterested and more just unconcerned.

Sure, there's questions and thoughts to be had, but everyone has their pasts—especially those among the Stellaron Hunters.

However, over time and with careful, calm observation, Kafka notices more about you.

She takes a special interest in you that she doesn't quite hold with her other fellow Stellaron Hunters.

How you apologize endlessly over small mistakes...

Or even how you flinched back when Silver Wolf of all people got angry and shouted at one of her video games.

I mean, Silver Wolf! The smallest of the Stellaron Hunters—outside of her abilities in manipulating the data of reality and hacking, she physically couldn't hurt a fly.

So, Kafka takes matters into her own hands.

She's pretty upfront, seeing no reason in beating around the bush.

She was content before in letting it slide as "everyone has their secrets", but she eventually develops something akin to concern for your situation.

"Darling, I just had a few small questions for you... Don't feel pressured to answer if you're not inclined."

The second half of her sentence shocked her a bit.

She has abilities relating to hypnotic suggestion—if there's something she wanted to hear or know, there's no reason she couldn't acquire it. And if there's something she wanted someone to listen to and obey, she could do it with no questions from the other party.

So really, it was awe-inspiring that she afforded you the luxury of choice here.

After hearing what happened to you, Kafka is not the type to go on a vengeance-path.

She knows the past is the past, and that you're with the Stellaron Hunters now, so your abuser is long gone from reach.

I think Kafka mostly focuses on comforting you in the moment.

Especially if you're partners, she'd be very inclined to give you a shoulder to lean on, a person to cry to.

Kafka may seem flippant, but she holds a deep-seated affection for you and she treats your trauma with the utmost respect and seriousness it deserves.

She'd definitely get more protective of you after hearing your past.

As long as it's not against Elio's script, she's accompanying you on any mission you need to attend to.

And, well, if someone happens to trigger any unpleasant memories, be it a stranger or otherwise...

They're taken care of. Quietly.

⊹ Jing Yuan

Jing Yuan, teddy bear of a man he is, is likely the most forthcoming of the three about any scars he sees on you.

He's the General and goes into battle so that you don't have to get scars like his, and yet, what are these past wounds he sees on you?

The man isn't an idiot, though. He knows the circumstances behind them are likely far from pleasant.

He also knows how to treat a matter with the delicateness it requires.

"My dear... May I ask about that wound on your arm?"

So, so gentle.

He's already got you in his arms before you can say a word, cradling you gently and soothing you before you can get the story out.

Listens to every single word you have to say, only breaking your continuous sentences to hush you now and then and calm you down

Doesn't matter how much work he has to do, Jing Yuan would stay with you for hours or days on end to make sure you were okay

He, like Kafka, is not the type to be overly vengeful or seeking of retribution against those who hurt you.

Rather, he's more of the mindset that the best revenge is a life well-lived, and that's exactly how he intends to get back at your abusers—by making your life as wonderful as he can.

That's not to say he won't do anything, though.

If your abusers were still alive or around, he'd definitely pull some strings.

Nothing violent, of course, but the abuser(s) lives aboard the Xianzhou Luofu would never be peaceful again if he knew who they were.

Jing Yuan is more focused on you and your recovery.

If you ever feel like hurting yourself, or the past comes back to haunt you, he's dropping everything for your sake.

He doesn't just treat you like glass or tiptoe around you, though.

He knows how strong you are to have made it through such experiences and still be alive—to a long-lived species, it's especially admirable that one could sustain themselves through such things

As such, Jing Yuan respects you greatly. And he demands the same from others.

Not that he didn't already, being that you're his partner or closest friend (however you'd like to interpret, but he is most certainly in love with you!)

He's just more conscious of his own actions henceforth.

Jing Yuan wasn't the type to raise his voice or get visibly upset with you even in moments of disagreement or conflict, but he's especially more gentle after hearing your past.

The man is literally a walking green flag, I don't know what else to tell you!

[bandgie]

That recent Seungmin fic got me like 🤤

Can you do another one where he laces it again and just fucks you dumb, like full force, fast pace not stopping, and you’re just a cock drunk mess, drooling, crying and whimpering. He’s making you cum over and over again overstimulating you while also marking you up.

Perv best friend Seungmin with yandere tendencies live in my head 24/7. If possible can I be the 🧡 anon, I love to spill my thoughts and keep track of them ☺️

Love your work, keep working hard! 🧡

this post anon is referring to

oh yes I have been looking at this in my inbox for so long just...imagining / and yes you can be that anon! thank you!

MDNI 18+ warning! heavy dubcon elements! meandom!seung, choking, drugging, overstim

You're super out of it. you can hardly register his length inside pumping into you relentlessly. Your groggy eyes open and close barely making out your roommate Seungmin on top. He's got an intense look in his eyes and a snarl on his lips. Teeth baring threateningly as he keeps pulling you down on his cock.

You groan and weakly pick up your head, noticing both of you are nude from the waist down. That wet, hot sensation between your legs is Seungmin's dick. It's unbelievable at first and you try blinking a few more time for him to disappear. He doesn't though, and you finally feel his bruising grip on your hips and his sweat dripping onto your body.

Weren't you just getting high with him? A little smoke sesh to take some stress off? To be fair, the blunt did feel a bit different. It made your heart race after the first hit, made your ability to speak nearly nonexistent, and you somewhat recall being very clingy. Even then, how does that translate to Seungmin fucking you like this?

You open your mouth to express your worries, to tell him to stop or at the very least, slow down. That's not what you communicate though, and the moment you try to speak all that comes out are garbled moans and loud whines.

Seungmin finally looks up from where his cock sinks into you to look at your face. You're a mess, to say the least. Your makeup smeared from his harsh kisses, lips swollen from when he shoved his cock between them while you were still out, and the strings of drool hanging off your chin.

Oh, you look like a dream.

He gives you a smile with all teeth, though it's far from friendly. "You feel so good like this." He lets his hand trails up your torso, groping your tits before resting against your throat. "So pretty."

The feeling between your legs switches between painful to pleasurable. It's unbearable how his girth stretches you out, how the tip of his cock continuously hits the deepest parts of you. You shake your head at him, eye welting with tears. "Too much."

Seungmin fakes pity, a frown on his face. "Don't lie. You wouldn't be cumming this much if that was true."

Are you really cumming that much? You were so sure that all the slick and wetness between your thighs was his doing, but the throbbing aches from your pussy say otherwise. A cry escapes your throat when you feel him hit a certain part, but the grip Seungmin has around your throat tightens.

"I liked you better when you were quiet," he tuts. "Didn't complain so much. Just laid there and took it like a good girl."

You want to complain, but the squeezing of your trachea won't let you. You wan't to tell him that you are a good girl. That you can lie prettily and take it, but it just feels too good. Your legs spasm and try to snap shut from the overstimulation, but Seungmin only chokes you harder. There's not a doubt in your mind that you'll wake up covered in bruises.

He's so much stronger than you. Seungmin keeps a harsh pace even as you flood his cock with your orgasm. He can feel how your walls try to push him out, but he forces himself deeper.

Your back arches, and you sob from the abuse. Judging from how sensitive you are and how Seungmin's dripping with sweat, he must have been at this for hours. And he's showing no signs of stopping anytime soon.

You know it's morally wrong for Seungmin to use you like this. Even worse for you to actually enjoy it. But you can't help yourself from letting him roll the blunt every time from this point on.

[ivys-thick-juicy-thighs]

Sleep Token Lore theory

From the pov of someone deeply interested in psychology and a survivor of narcissistic abuse.

Warnings: mentions of narcissistic abuse, brief mentions of suicidal ideation, alcohol use.

Disclaimer: my idea of what all of it means is less in the esoteric direction and based more on my opinions of some of Vessel’s personal experiences. I’m basing all of this on lyrical content, the evolution of his masks, how he behaves on stage, and my own personal experience. I will not mention any of his previous work or related individuals. I will keep this as neutral as possible out of respect for all of their privacy.

Read part two here

1. The deity of Sleep: I believe that Sleep is less of an actual deity (I know it’s mostly a marketing gimmick), and more of a metaphor for someone that Vessel used to be in a relationship with. This person was very toxic and likely abusive in some manner. They also definitely had a god complex. In my opinion they most likely displayed a lot of narcissistic tendencies, such as love bombing, denying responsibility, manipulating, lies, mind games, and other such things. Emotional and psychological abuse are very likely. People who display narcissistic traits tend to worm their way into the minds of their targets. They prey on their insecurities, weaponizing them. Hence “my insecurities surround me like lions in a den.” This person met Vessel, noticed the things he was probably already insecure about and deliberately poked at those wounds, making them worse. This person also probably made efforts to isolate Vessel from the rest of his family and friends, making him dependent on them and them alone. If you have no one else to turn to, you are much less likely to try to escape.

2. Vessel’s part in the toxicity: in multiple lyrics from different songs Vessel expresses deep all consuming guilt over the way that he acted in this relationship. Being in a relationship with a narcissist will change you into a different person, but who you become depends on who you are to start with. Some people become more argumentative and fight back, which the narcissist enjoys. They like it when you react emotionally, they take it as a chance to say “look at the way you’re acting, you’re being the bad guy. Now I can go and make my smear campaign to make me look like the victim.” Other people shut down emotionally, becoming even easier to manipulate and control. In Vessel’s case, I think he mostly became the argumentative version, though inside he was likely pretty emotionally numb. This is shown in DYWTYLM when he says “maybe it’s not that you conceal your feelings, they just don’t exist.” The narcissist has succeeded in alienating him from himself so much that he can’t recognize his own emotional state or needs.

3. Vessel’s emotional state: with the narcissistic behaviour that I mentioned earlier, it’s very likely that Vessel was the recipient of a lot of mind games and love bombing. Love bombing, to put it in the simplest terms, is when a narcissist pours on the charm in opportunistic times to get you to believe that they are the nicest person ever. They follow this up with extremely shitty behaviour, and then more charm. This way you start to believe that you imagined the shitty part and that they couldn’t do anything wrong. This back and forth creates a pattern that the victim will be addicted to, the good parts are so good that they brush off the bad. This is shown in Sugar “I’ve developed a taste for you” and in Distraction “you come crawling back to me, but I’m already on the ground.” If the narcissist is tenacious enough, this will push their victim to the point of wanting to take their own life or attempting to. This is shown in Atlantic, Are you really ok?, Dark Signs, and several others. References to scars on arms, trenches deeper than the scars can show, tearing off limbs, etc etc.

4. Vessel’s actions during: there are several songs where he describes self sacrificing behaviour, the biggest example being The Offering. Just the whole entire song. He gave himself over completely to this person. In a healthy relationship this isn’t a bad thing, but in an unhealthy relationship, it most certainly is. His entire identity could’ve been defined by the other person. “I am Vessel, and I belong to ________. They are my purpose.” That kind of thing. A complete erasure of who he was prior. At this point, he does not know who he is, he depends on them to tell him and others who he is. Through this he also grew to hate himself, and to believe that all of his dreams were probably unrealistic or something like that. And that he is ugly, as is shown in the Fall For Me video. This probably acts as the main driving force behind the masks in the first place. To literally hide behind, in fear that if the mask were to go away, that we the audience would no longer be interested. There’s those insecurities again. Afraid that he’ll lose all of his success if they see his face. Despite the fact that we don’t buy his albums to listen to his face.

5. The aftermath of this: When this relationship ended, which would’ve been after a long course of back and forth, and probably some on again off again cycles, Vessel would’ve been left feeling completely dead inside. To put it simply. Recovering from this kind of abuse takes a very long time, for most it takes months, for others years. At the start, he would likely struggle to see any worth in himself at all, hence him saying that who he is behind the mask does not matter. He was taught that belief. I think we can all agree that for Vess, it took several years to fully recover, and we continue to see his progress with every performance. We can also see this via the evolution of his mask, in the beginning covering his whole face, very much not human. Then the second mask, also not human but also softer. Not as archaic in appearance. But still not human. Still not him. The current mask showing a portion of his face at all times, the red lace like design on the bottom. It’s prettier, softer. It’s more human and approachable, but it has the spikes on it. He still feels the need to defend and protect himself. The other ways we were able to see the damage incurred, was through the fact that for many earlier performances, Vessel was drunk on stage. It doesn’t take a lot of thought to see that he wasn’t feeling too good about himself. A lot of victims of this kind of abuse tend to turn to some kind of vice/addiction to get them through the pain. After going through and getting out of something like that, self care and healthy habits usually isn’t a top priority. All you want in that situation is to numb the pain and distance yourself from it.

Someone on TikTok also pointed out to me the line (I think) from TMBTE “I’ll take a pound of your flesh before you take a piece of my pay stub.” With the idea that the person he was in a relationship with he also worked with, and they hogged a lot of his money. This aligns very much with narcissistic tendencies, as financial abuse is also extremely common.

More about the other members and their roles tomorrow.

[venomhoundfanworks]

World of Warcraft - Wrathion Crush Headcanons

I actually have this GIANT document written up all about Wrathion; how he gets crushes, how he courts, and so on. I wrote it like a couple years ago. I guess Ill break it up into a couple posts and throw it on here since I'm actually posting my brainrot now lol. Maybe someone will get enjoyment out of it.

IMPORTANT NOTE: Re-edited 11/10/24 so its easier to read. Contents are the same, formatting is just a little different!

WARNING: Old writing. Not beta read we die like men ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Wrathion is very ‘classically’ romantic. When he thinks about romance and courting, he thinks about it in a very stereotypical Victorian-esque way. With the man being a gentleman, giving flowers, writing love letters, and generally being the one to put their heart on the line. All while the woman looks on, blushing and giggling.

Honestly, its probably due to a bunch of romance books he has read.

Don't get me wrong; I used the word classical and not traditional for a reason. Wrathion is not the type to think in firm gender roles or anything (dragons as a whole don't really subscribe to the concept of gender). He is just of the mindset that if you are interested in someone, you show respect to that person and you express your interest. None of this pining, subtle flirting, or love game nonsense.

Wrathion absolutely despises people who don't do anything about crushes (without a good reason of course. Like, if the person is already taken, nothing you can do) and/or just sit and pine. Its one of his absolute pet peeves.

I totally see Wrathion getting SO ANNOYED with Anduin if he came to him with love problems. Anduin would try to vent to him about his feelings, signals he is getting from his crush, and what signals he should give back without being too obvert... Meanwhile Wrathion doesn't give a fuck about 'proper courting protocol' or any of that nonsense and is ready to flip a table.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Wrathion is just a very big gentleman overall and surprisingly chivalrous. The easiest way to get on his bad side is harassing, disrespecting, and/or abusing a woman.

Wrathion would probably fall into the demi-romantic category. I can never imagine him experiencing love at first sight, or even falling for someone soon after meeting them.

Wrathion is more the type to become great friends with someone then have a love realization hit him like a freight train. He falls in love like falling asleep; very slowly, then all at once. It just punches him in the face before he can tell whats going on.

One of the first signs of Wrathion’s feelings are his stares. At first they'll be very studious looks, like your a riddle he cant figure out.

He wont hide these looks either. You'll easily catch him (and lock eyes if your brave enough).

However, when Wrathion’s feelings shift, the inquisitive looks he gave you quickly turn into loving gazes. His once sharp eyes now soft and full of admiration.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Dragons have a very strong instinct to protect and lavish their partner with gifts. These will be the other main tells that his feelings are changing way before either of you catches onto it.

Wrathion will check in whenever he can, asking how your doing and feeling. He may be busy, being a Prince and all, but Wrathion somehow always finds time to check in on you.

Because Wrathion himself has sleeping issues, he has this almost sixth sense for when you haven't slept or are exhausted. If you refuse to rest, Wrathion will try to help you with your workload as much as he can.

Wrathion catches on quick to what your needs are. If you have a tendency to forget to eat or drink, he will gently remind you. If you have a tendency to overwork yourself, Wrathion will try and push you to take a break.

Of course, these examples are when he is first catching feelings. Once you two are a thing, Wrathion becomes much more pushy and insistent.

Sleep deprived? Wrathion is pulling you to bed in his arms and taking a nap with you. Haven't eaten? Your getting something made for you right away, don't even worry about coming down. Overworking yourself? Hard to work when you have a guy kissing you all over and begging you to come relax. If that doesn't work, Wrathion will just straight up lay in your lap like a cat.

You'll also notice him being very physically protective as well. Although admittedly, it'll be difficult to discern what is actual protectiveness and what is just him being a gentleman at first.

Wrathion does the usual things you'd expect of someone of his rank. He will make sure you have safe passage and escort you himself if need be. He will also guide you with his hand to your back in crowded room.

However, he quickly starts upping himself when he starts getting feelings for you. Instead of asking if you need an escort, he will insist that he escort you himself. Instead of only guiding you through crowds or when things get dicey, Wrathion preemptively offers his arm to you to hold onto. If he does end up having to put his arm around you, you'll also notice that instead of it being the super gentle, almost guiding graze his hand had before; his hand is now firmly, protectively placed upon you.

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As for the gifts... Oh dear. This is a deeply embedded dragon instinct that I think would cue alot of people into Wrathion’s feelings wayyy before he figures it out himself.

It starts innocent enough, you were complaining about not having enough of [X], one of your old pieces of armor started hurting you, or maybe a weapon broke. Well whatever it was, Wrathion took it upon himself to fix it. Has to make sure your in tip top shape, right?

Then you eyeball something at the market for a little too long, you mention a book you've been wanting, or this really cool sword you like. Before you know it, its suddenly in your possession.

Wrathion then just starts to get you things that he thinks you'd like or remind him of you. It deteriorates so quickly that he always seems to have something for you.

Wrathion is all excuses. Oh, its just a reward for being a good friend! Oh, he just saw how worn out you were lately and thought you needed something to cheer you up! Its an early birthday present! And this one too. This one is a late birthday present.

For a trained rogue, its actually kinda pathetic how he cannot come up with a good deflection as to why he is giving you all this stuff to save his life. But thats mostly because he doesn't even know why he is doing it himself to be honest.

(I literally imagine the gift instinct to be SO STRONG that Wrathion could swear to himself, ‘okay, no gifts, no more nothing’ then literally end up giving you the stupidest shit like an actual rock because it was pretty. He cant help it. Its in his GENES. HE MUST GIFT YOU)

Once you two are an actual thing the sporadic and, honestly, quite chaotic gifting he was doing before is no more. But thats only because it has been replaced with him absolutely spoiling you. The chaos energy he had before is now being put to good use.

One of his favorite activities is dressing you up. As weird as it sounds, he loves having you try on a ton of different outfits and model them for him.

(If it was a modern AU, Wrathion is the type of guy I could see spending hours at the mall with you and being absolutely giddy about it.)

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