#and they think following the leader is enough
Text
C'mon
Choi Yunjin (Jini) x Oh Haewon, Kang Seulgi
Length: 7895 words
Tags: lesbian sex, girl x girl relationships, idol x idol, fingering, licking, heart break, drunk sex, hook up, thigh riding, eating out, there is a story in this, like really I tried doing drama and all that
TW: rusty writing, rusty editing
Inspiration: "C'mon" by JINI (if you pay attention to the lyrics, they might come up in this fic again)
(A/N: yeah, I'm back for a hot second. I had this fic in the freezer, topped it off with a hot/cute ending to give you hope that I might return xD I hope you enjoy it all; the plot, the sex. Happy Pride Month, remember to be excellent to each other and accept them, even if you might not understand everything <3)
“Have you seen the new trainee?”
Jini looks up from her phone, the instagram story instantly forgotten at the sight of Haewon entering the living room. She has a white towel atop her round face, an oversized t-shirt enveloping not only her entire upper body but also her butt and crotch. Jini is very much used to this style, especially post showering, hell, she even started to copy Haewon after only a few weeks of training together. Yeah, it only took weeks. Everything went so fast.
“Oh, you mean Sullyoon?” Jini responds, eyes blatantly fixated on Haewon’s lips. “Yeah, I saw her. She is very pretty.”
“Oh yeah?” Haewon raises her chin and slowly steps closer to the couch Jini sits on. “So she is very pretty.”
“Not only very pretty,” Jini breathes, her voice teasing, she drops the phone. “I think she’ll be the visual of the group.”
Haewon is right above her now, staring down at Jini’s smirk. Jini knows that her girlfriend can never resist her addictive teasing, the naughty words that are nothing but a set up to get in the mood. It works like a charm, even right after a shower, Haewon is ready to get sweaty again.
“You’re on a first name basis too,” Haewon remarks before suddenly grabbing Jini’s t-shirt and pulling the stunning stunned girl's face close. Jini huffs, her face is flushed with thrill, the excitement of getting Haewon aroused and ready to press her body on hers. “Why are you wearing my t-shirt again?”
“I like how big it is… and how it smells.”
“Take it off.”
An order Jini gladly follows, though she remains purposefully slow to enjoy Haewon’s gaze on her toned, bare body underneath the thin, white cloth, which is quickly discarded behind the couch. Haewon’s knee carefully opens Jini’s legs as both of them lean closer to each other, yet to touch, but the heat of their bodies already merging.
“Only panties?” Haewon notices, not looking at the tiny pink thing covering Jini’s sex, hell, she’s not even looking at the nude hills with hard nipples atop of them. She only focuses on Jini’s eyes and the black haired girl wouldn’t have it any other way. This is why she loves this dork so much.
“I bet it’s the same for you, babe,” Jini giggles, finally courageous enough to dig her hand beneath the towel into Haewon’s moist hair. “I need you.”
“I know, baby. Have I told you I love you before?”
Haewon’s dorkiness is showing. Before Jini can respond, the soon-to-be-leader shoves her knee right on Jini’s pussy while her hands both grind over Jini’s sensitive breasts. The timing is a bit off, the movement sloppy, but Jini would not have it any other way. Haewon could even do some cringy shit right now, and Jini would still be wet and horny for the older’s fingers.
“Y-yes, babe,” Jini moans, biting her pointer as to not alert someone who might possibly pass this dorm room. “You do it all the time, I—oh my God!”
Haewon’s tongue glides over her girlfriend's collar, up her throat to her chin, Jini’s chin, the most sensitive chin in the world. It’s a unique spot to be so erogenous, and Haewon is ready to use it for Jini’s peak pleasure. The moment she nibbles on the smooth curve, Jini pulls her in, the rest of their curves melting, Jini leaking on Haewon’s knee, then her digits hovering down her abs, into her heat—
“Haewon, Haewon, I love you!”
#
The debut is approaching rapidly, like an unstoppable train, days filled with dancing, recording, dancing, shootings, dancing—most nights, Jini just falls asleep the second she meets her bed. Luckily, Haewon is still there, together they fight through the tough times, share a secret relationship, until Haewon has to stay longer for extra meetings and other stuff.
“Being a leader is hard,” she says and kisses Jini’s forehead before she heads out to yet another extra schedule. “I’ll see you later, babe.”
Jini stares at the ceiling, tired yet unable to use the four hours she has to sleep properly. She misses Haewon, her touch, the shared intimacy. It’s the one thing that has carried her through the rough trainee and group building process, to lose it now is unimaginable to her. Maybe the best times are already past the two of them, maybe the homophobic culture surrounding them will have their love suppressed to the bare minimum, absolute secrecy, where Jini has to ask herself:
Is this really love?
Haewon returns earlier than Jini expected, out of breath, face equally exhausted and worried. Jini lifts her blanket and Haewon slips right next to her, wordlessly, only deep breaths leaving her lips. This is very much not the Haewon Jini is used to, no amount of training has her this quiet.
“Is everything okay, love?” Jini carefully asks, hands on Haewon’s soft, beautiful cheeks. “I’m here if you want to talk. I’m also here if you just want to sleep.”
“Can you bring me the tequila?” Haewon whispers defeatedly and Jini hurries to get the bottle and two shot glasses. In the faint moonlight falling through the window behind her bed, she fills the glasses and hands one to Haewon, who immediately downs it, followed by a loud, exaggerated sigh.
“Tequila?” Jini asks with a small smile. “That bad?”
“It goes down so easily, easier than—” Haewon stops and reaches for Jini’s glass. Another shot of tequila goes down her throat in a blaze of fire. “Jini, I-I think we need to… put our relationship on hold.”
Jini sinks to the floor in front of her bed, in front of Haewon who looks down to her with sad, glistening eyes, though Jini feels already a lot closer to crying. Before it can happen however, Haewon guides the bottle to her girlfriend's lips, and the colorless, burning liquid makes Jini jerk up. Tequila stains her cheek, chin, Haewon’s t-shirt she stole out of her drawer last night.
“Careful, you’re spilling it everywhere,” Haewon cackles quietly, as if she doesn’t mean it.
“Haewon, why? I love you, I need you, please don’t break up with me,” Jini cries out but Haewon just goes for her chin and licks the liquor off of it. Jini calms down with a soft moan, while Haewon starts to hum and kiss all over her face.
“We are not breaking up. It’s just that… we won’t have any privacy. They will restructure the dorm rooms and the rest of the time, we’ll be learning choreographies. I just want to be honest with you—we won’t have any time, but I still love you, Jini.”
“A-and what if we tell them about us and ask them to give us our own room?”
A pained sick laugh leaves Haewon’s lips and she avoids looking at Jini, not able to bear those anxious eyes. Instead she focuses on pulling her onto the bed and getting a hand underneath the t-shirt.
“Don’t be silly, Jini. They will never accept us. They can never know about us, not even Lily. I don’t want them to hurt you.”
“I-I’m not scared of them,” Jini whines, while Haewon has her shirtless already. “I’m scared of losing you.”
“Don’t worry about that, baby, let’s just enjoy tonight.” Haewon’s tongue dances with Jini’s, not in the rhythm of their song for the millionth time, but lazily, sloppily. If there was a dance teacher, they’d complain about the execution, but Jini only cares that this tongue is there and makes her feel warm and wet.
“Touch me, Haewon, please.” Jini’s voice cracks during that moan as Haewon gladly flicks past her clit and fingers the dripping sex below.
“You too, Jini, put them on me. I love your smooth skin here I could—rub it forever.”
Jini gives it her all, always making sure to be spotless down there, which is quite the struggle in between all the schedules. But it’s the way Haewon likes it, Jini has never seen her with any hair down there. And so her fingers brush past the flawlessly shaven skin to the bundle that makes Haewon take deeper breaths—
—draws moans from her, loud and glorious, like her singing voice. The fingers dance, on the outside, then inside, back and forth, always careful. For the first time in a while, Jini feels her body relax, even as it twists and jerks at Haewon’s thrusting fingers and nipple-sucking lips.
“Jini, you’re so sexy.” Haewon’s voice is deep and Jini can’t remember when they got completely naked and moved to the couch, but she doesn’t care. More important is Haewon’s pretty pink pussy on her face as she sits on it. Jini eagerly gets her tongue inside while she feels Haewon’s gaze admire her midriff, her thighs, her sex that is—
“You’re dripping~” Haewon moans.
“You too, Unnie.” Jini can’t get enough of that addictive taste. She’d love for her mouth to be filled with it; to make Haewon cum messily has always been her goal. Up until now, it’s been amazing but not yet the way she imagined it. She will have to work harder, while her Unnie rubs up and down her clit.
“You’re about to cum again, I can feel it. Your hips are jerking up.”
“Just because your hands are so good, Unnie~”
Jini can feel Haewon smile against her crotch, those lips kiss right above her slit, never the way she does it, but it’s enough. Jini’s eyes tear up for the second time this night and with the flick of her tongue, Haewon makes her scream.
“Unnie, Unnie, I’m—”
Jini’s hips lose all their tension when her orgasm subsides and she falls into the cushions. In her blissful state, she forgets her duty to eat Haewon out, so the elder just chuckles and rubs her cunt on her nose. She will do so until the deed is finished and Jini can only admire her beautiful, stunningly hot and talented lover throw her head back in pleasure.
“Ji-Jini, I love you.”
“I love you too, Unnie.”
#
Jini has been warned, but no warning would have been sufficient for the absolute lack of touch, of intimacy, of love that was about to come in the following months. All there was was training, dancing until your legs fall off, singing until your ears are ringing—then came the posing for cameras.
The idol life she has always dreamed of finally started. It’s been a tough road, now she is living her dream, a dream filled with the painful reminder that she truly has to sacrifice everything. From a normal childhood to freetime to all kinds of relationships.
She knew about the last part, but it’s a different kind of sacrifice. If you can never find a person to love, you don’t know what you’re missing. However, if the person you love is right there and the only interaction you have is a bad quickie on the toilet, the pain will sting and remind her forever.
About that quickie, it was hasty, a dumb decision that wasn’t even a decision. Haewon had forgotten to close the door and Jini came bursting in because she needed time away from everyone, it was all too loud and if she had to listen to ‘Tank’ one more time—
They both just locked the door and locked lips. Haewon sat back down and pulled down the shorts of Jini’s stage outfit. It was all spontaneous, so Jini wasn’t properly shaven and Haewon did nothing to hide her visible disgust. However, she didn’t say anything and so Jini rode her thighs, admiring that beautiful face that still had a glint of hope for their relationship in her eyes. A tiny glint that Haewon did not try to uphold.
Other than that, she did not cum, neither did Haewon, and they both wordlessly left. No ‘I love you’ or a goodbye kiss—no one could suspect a thing. On this day, Jini’s heart started to break properly. She let it happen until a final surge had her bursting into Haewon’s and Sullyoon’s shared room.
“Haewon-unnie, we need to talk.”
“Oh my God, Jini, you scared me!”
Haewon slams the laptop in front of her shut. The entire room is filled in darkness, except for a faint light in the tiny, corner bathroom. Jini is in her haze, induced by alcohol, induced by sadness, but mostly induced by the desperate desire to get back to Haewon, back to her lover. She just walks over and wraps an arm around the leader's waist.
Unlike the beautiful times before, Jini is pushed away by a cold hand, stiff and it feels so heartless. She can’t see Haewon’s face but she knows it must have the same coldness. Is there anything left? Any heat from their past love that could move her an inch?
“I-I missed you,” Jini whimpers.
“Sullyoon is right there, you can’t just—”
“What is—” A sleepy Sullyoon stands in the door frame, a yawn interrupts her words and she blinds everyone by finding the light switch with her hand. “—happening here? Jini, what are you doing here?”
“I—I…”
“She was looking, no, bringing me something,” Haewon interjects and grabs Jini’s wrist. “I’ll come back in a second. Sorry for waking you up, Sully.”
Sullyoon’s eyes switch from one girl to the other before she weakly nods and moves back into the bathroom. The moment the door closes, Haewon drags Jini out of the room and the two find a quiet corner somewhere in the endless corridors of a mostly empty, dimly lit dormitory.
“Jini, what the fuck?” Haewon growls angrily and her eyes punch holes into Jini’s heart—her words follow quickly. She must not be thinking how much it hurts. “You can’t just do this, what will they think? Don’t touch me like that, not in public!”
“I-it was just a hug, everyone hugs in public.”
“But you do it differently. They will see, and they cannot—”
“Why?” Now Jini shouts and tears stream and fists fly against the next wall. “Why, why, why? I don’t care what they think! They can know it, they can hate us—fuck, Haewon, I just want you, I love you!”
“Jini you—this will kill our careers.”
“I don’t care.”
“You.” Haewon holds her mouth in shock. She steps back, her hand no longer on Jini’s wrist. “You can’t be serious.”
The shift in her eyes is beyond eerie. No horror film could ever encapsulate how scary this is. To see the person you love, your lover, turn from sadness to anger—away from everything Jini knew and loved—to poison. Words cannot reach her any longer, whatever Jini says will be held against her, it will all blow up. Even the L-word, it is powerless.
Nothing can be salvaged. But Jini will only realize this later.
“I am, I lo—”
“You just want to fuck me, is it that? Jini, you don’t give a fuck about my career, what I worked for, huh? You just want to have sex with me, and everyone can know it—you disgust me.”
“No, what, Haewon that’s—”
“Stop it, stop saying my name! You, I don’t want to hear it!”
Haewon reaches for Jini’s shirt—no, this is not one of Jini’s shirts. It’s the final Haewon-shirt she holds dear to her heart. The only remnants of their intimacy, hidden deep in her closet. She only wears it every now and then and now, in what is the nightmare of her life.
“That’s how you play, you take everything. My love, my career, my fucking t-shirts.” Haewon pulls at the hem. Jini fights back at first but with every tug she feels all power leave her body. But once again, it’s Haewon’s eyes and her poisonous words that kill her spirit. “You are such a piece of shit, Jini. To think I ever loved you.”
“What?”
“Give it back, give me back my youth, my love!”
“B-but Haewon, I love you, really!”
“Never say that again. You just played with my heart!”
The t-shirt is in Haewon’s hands, a couple of strings and tatters falling off of it. Jini falls to her knees in between them, only dressed in her bra and some pathetic gray sweatpants that quickly darken as her tears fall onto them. Haewon scoffs, her face puffy and angry. She is about to cry as ugly as Jini is, but this endless anger keeps her from doing it now.
For a few seconds, she just stands there breathing, looking at the salty rivers running down Jini’s face. They are no crocodile tears, genuine, absolutely real—but she dismisses it all and faces away from her former girlfriend.
“We had nothing,” Haewon whispers and walks away. “I wish I’d never met you.”
And Jini cries the entire night.
#
The only thing paler than Jini’s face is the wall behind her manager. Jini has been fixated on it ever since she entered the office room. It’s like she can look right through it, see what could have been—the prosperous idol career she always dreamed of, fun group activities, a successful love life in secrecy.
The disbelief in her manager’s eyes is like a mirror that suddenly reflects the truth back to her. Jini’s dream is a lie and now she has to face it, face to face with a livid man who has his palms on the desk. He can make the floor shake.
“You, you can’t be serious!”
“I am!” That shout was easy on her lips, easier than it should have been, with a heavy, racing heart, Jini stands up. She won’t back down to him, she will get her way out of here. “I don’t want to stay here for another day, I—”
“What the fuck, Jini!” In his rage, Jini’s manager stomps to the wall and smashes a small picture, its frame crashing down to the floor in a thousand sharp pieces. Now the wall is even paler and Jini can see that her real future might as well be an immovable object she is running straight into, head first, blood all over her—
“I will leave,” Jini proclaims, loud and unmistakable through the choleric pants of her enraged manager. “Or else I’ll let the world know what happens in this company.”
“Shut up.” A pained laugh as he looks down at the mess of colorful splinters and a now worthless picture. “You’re bluffing.”
“Oh yeah? I know at least half a dozen staff members who are a bit too fond of the trainees. Those helpless, naive, young little boys and girls.” Jini steps closer; he is now the palest in the room, both the light and the wall are no match. “That’s why I picked you. You did no such things. You just looked away, like we all did.”
“Jini, you stupid—”
“Stop defending them, for fucks sake.”
Every muscle in Jini’s body is filled with tension. She could really use some release, more than mere screams. A punching bag, some crazy rapid workout or maybe just a few drinks to knock her out. It’s the opposite for her manager, who lifelessly flops onto his chair and looks like he’d vomit at the next movement. Jini has never seen him cry and this might be the moment he does without actually showing tears.
“I—I can’t, this is my dream job, my future, my life.”
“It was mine too. Dreams die, so let me leave.”
“Why now? I just got this position and you’re going to ruin my chances of ever getting back.”
The manager starts to sob, though he cannot admit it. Jini feels sick to the stomach, while her anger does not fade. When he turns around, she just imagines the blank face of Haewon and her venomous words. She can argue against that all night, all day until it frees her of this hell hole.
“I’ve looked away for too long,” Jini proclaims and reaches for her coat. “If you don’t have anything to say, I’m leaving. Don’t try to stop me or else.”
“You’re cruel, Jini, I don’t want to see your face ever again.”
“Good.” She opens the door. On the other end of the long hallway are her former members, waddling to their next practice session or photo shooting or music show. Whatever. Luckily, she can only see their backs, each of them a bit exposed, sweaty—then there is Haewon, her hand on Sullyoon’s back, a bit too intimate. “You won’t even hear from me, I’m basically dead.”
#
“Hey, it’s me.” Jini is about to ignore and delete the voicemail, but this is from a person that actually cares about her. “I heard what happened. Look, I dunno why it happened or if you are feeling good or bad about it—I’m just your idiot brother after all—but I know just the place you might need right now. I’ll send you the address. Don’t worry, it’s girls only. From what I heard, they are very popular amongst your kind. I really hope you’re doing fine.”
Jini cracks a weak smile. She hasn’t left her apartment in days, only reaching out to very specific friends to tell them about what happened, her decision to leave the company. Actually, no one knows about her break up, the relationship with Haewon. It was all a well-kept secret not even her best friends knew about.
As for her brother, he is the only one in her family who knows about her sexuality. The rest would most likely not accept her, hell, her father hasn’t really talked to her ever since she became a trainee. Jini’s life has developed far away from her family, especially her other relatives. Hearing her brother's voice feels like a relief with the bitter aftertaste of loneliness. Lonely, like the tiny apartment room she now lives in.
Maybe it’s time for her to go out again. One night of nothing but drinking and mindless flirting, regretting it all the next day—and then it’s time for her to look forward. She can’t stay in this apartment, this state of sorrow and grief forever. Before this new found feeling of ‘fuck it all’ can go away, she puts on her prettiest dress and a tiny bit of make-up. Luckily, the bar is not too far away.
“If you promise to visit me, I might pay for a few of your drinks ;-P” Send by Idiot Brother
Jini’s second smile is already a lot stronger.
#
To Jini’s shock, she does not find a small and cozy lesbian bar with a couple of hot, single girls. The place is fucking huge, probably the biggest in all of Korea. There is a constant influx of women, usually in pairs and groups, standing together, talking, drinking, partying. The noisiness, paired with the all black and rough looking interior makes Jini quickly order and down her first cocktail. Something, something tequila. When she watches couple after couple make out all around her, she grabs her second one. Something, something vodka.
“Hey, do I know you?” the bartender asks her, voice firm and concerned.
“Nah, it’s my first time here,” Jini responds and shakes her head. A terrible idea. She can feel the alcohol flooding her head and already doing its thing. Soon, she’ll lose control—and gradually forget about the Haewon-shaped hole in her heart.
“Oh, I didn’t mean from here.” The bartender leans forward, towards Jini. She stares at the former idol, clearly unsure about something. “Maybe from the news or something?”
“Not possible, I’m not—famous.
“C-can I get another one? A Daiquiri?”
“Sure, gimme a second.” The bartender walks to the other end of the bar.
Jini’s heart starts to race. For a second, she was famous. An idol of JYP Entertainment, of course that is enough for people to recognize her. Leaving the group does not evaporate her fame. Clearly the bartender must have seen some posters or news about her. How could she forget about something like that? What’s going to happen now? Can she really go unrecognized through this night?
Suddenly, someone grabs her arm. Jini would shriek, but the liquor is already slowing her reaction time down.
“You shouldn’t be here,” a serious voice from behind her says. Jini turns towards the woman, but a mask covers her face. The uncovered eyes however look very familiar.
“D-do I know you?” Jini asks and hopes that the bartender returns. She does not. Crap.
“There is a different area for people like us. Quick, before someone recognizes you!”
Jini’s arm is in the firm grasp of this stranger who drags her through the bar without a care for the other partying woman. Jini tries to apologize, but the liquor already weighs her tongue down and so she is quietly staggering behind her kidnapper. An inconspicuous door later and the two are in a lot quieter area with multiple security people scanning them.
“It’s safer here, trust me,” the woman says and removes her mask. Jini needs a second and a good shake of her head to realize who just pulled her out of the bar into—another bar.
“A-aren’t you… Kang Seulgi? The Seulgi!?”
“Sorry for not introducing myself.” Seulgi scratches her head and then combs her slightly sweaty hair back. “But it was necessary. You can’t run around like this when you’re literally—”
“Huh, is this dress too revealing?” Jini interrupts, her voice drowsy, a bit unhinged. She tries to pull down the hem of her dress before Seulgi grabs her shoulders and shakes her entire body.
“Girl, you are the top news story of today! Everyone knows you, everyone who gives a tiny fuck about our genre thinks about you. This was the worst day to just show up at the biggest lesbian bar in all of Seoul. If anyone saw you—did anyone see you?”
Jini tries to think real hard, a finger pressed to her lips, forehead in wrinkles. She does not notice how she sways from one foot to the other, dangerously close to just slumping backwards, then forwards. Seulgi gently puts a hand to her back and guides her towards a corner with neat tables and cute chairs.
“Th-Thank you,” Jini whispers and tries to keep eye contact with the older idol. Her beauty and the fact that she is right there, a genuinely concerned look on her bear-like features has a bigger effect on Jini than any of the first drinks she’s had. “Sorry, I’m a bit… tipsy. B-but maybe, the bartender. She might have recognized me, maybe.”
Seulgi sighs in relief. “Okay, if it’s just one of them there is no need to be concerned. If you believe it or not, it’s not the first time a gay idol icon has just walked into a regular bar—it’s a miracle that they haven’t been in the news before.”
“S-so you’re saying that there are more idols l-like us? Wait, are you into g-girls too, Seulgi?!”
Seulgi raises an eyebrow and leans back on her chair. A black, leather jacket, at least a size too big, hangs down her shoulders. Beneath it is a loose crop top that exposes her insanely attractive midriff. To finish it off, her tight black pants are pulled high above her waist and hint at, almost teasing a navel. Seulgi is stunning, definitely made for the girls, as they say. “Don’t tell me that this is a surprise to you? What’s next? Exy or Eunseo suddenly like men?”
Jini’s eyes open wide. Before she becomes incoherent however, she falls back down to earth, her face buried in her hands. Of course there are more lesbian and gay idols, hell, she has been in a relationship with one of them. This reminder of Haewon has set things in motion. Melancholy spreads in Jini’s mind and it is only a soft hand on her head that distracts her.
“Hey, sorry about that.” Seulgi smiles softly. “I remember being a baby gay too, visiting this bar for the first time and being surprised at how many girls are like me. I promise, the longer you stay here, the more often you come here, the easier it will be to accept and understand things.”
Jini lazily looks around. She notices idols and other famous people, namely actresses and athletes sitting everywhere in this cozy bar. The music is a lot quieter, so the screams and dancing from next door are clearly audible. If she is honest, none of the people she recognizes truly shocks her. They were all already ‘probably not straight’ in her head, in her reality.
“It’s not even about that,” Jini suddenly begins to explain. “Like, I of course kinda knew you were into women, that’s why me and many others admired you. You showed us that it’s possible, even if we can’t be fully open about it. No, it’s because you all remind me of… her, and it hurts like hell.”
Seulgi’s orbs widen a bit and she starts to caress Jini’s hand. “Do you want to tell me what happened? Or should I get us some drinks and we just get black out drunk and forget everything, all our worries?”
“How about both?” Jini asks with a weak smile and Seulgi reciprocates it. She quickly skips over to the bar where the bartender is swift at preparing two colorful cocktails. Jini has no idea what it is she is sipping, but it tastes good and does the job. No reason for her to care.
“So, feel free to tell me,” Seulgi says and takes a huge first swing from her drink. “As much as you want, as much as you need.”
“It’s all just shit. A whole lot of shit.” Another sip. The drink is growing on Jini, or maybe it’s the fact that she is suddenly scared to talk about it. If only Seulgi, the older one, the clearly more experienced girl would make the first step.
“Losing your career?” Seulgi suddenly asks, somewhat mindlessly, and Jini feels her heart drop, ache, break while she somehow cracks a smile from somewhere.
“That and the way it happened. But I can’t go back. It hurts so much.”
“Oh, that sounds like I can relate,” Seulgi says, then scoffs as her hand reaches over the table to pull Jini’s cocktail glass down. “Slow down, babe, or you’ll drown in it.”
Jini blushes, almost drops her drink and spits out the rest. That word, the nice b-word, shouldn’t roll off of her tongue so easily. Seulgi is so nonchalant and sexy about it, seeming to not mind flattering the young girl while also clearly enjoying it. To make matters better, she puts her hand atop Jini’s and starts her own story with a smile.
“I had this thought of quitting multiple times. Everytime we fight, she makes me feel like I’m not good enough—only her stress reliever. It’s like she just sees me as a sex toy. Hell, I don’t mind if the entire world just sees me as a body—but from her, I want more. Worst of all, she knows it and still flip-flops. I wish I could just stop loving her or find the courage to quit, but I simply… can’t.”
“Who,” Jini gulps. “Who are you talking about?”
Seulgi shakes her head and locks eyes with Jini. The sudden seriousness and fierceness overwhelms the younger girl. It’s like Seulgi looks right through her, as if her head is made out of glass and every memory of Haewon is replaying like a 4k movie. The truth is sucked right out of Jini as the thought about her ex-girlfriend loving her intimately starts to hurt like daggers in her soul.
“You have a girlfriend too, huh? Gorgeous, hot, your whole obsession—and very toxic at the same time.”
“I-I… I had. We broke up. I ran away. I couldn’t stand what she said to me. But I still love her, I want her more than ever.”
Jini drops her head to the table, hand firmly around the glass. She tries to squeeze it, crush it, like it’s that last remnant of yearning for Haewon inside her heart. But the glass slips and she spills the rest of the ice cold drink over her dress. A frustrated gasp from her.
“Oh God, you can’t be serious…”
“Looks like he is serious,” Seulgi jokes with clenched teeth as she gets up and kneels next to Jini. With some paper towels, she tries to dry off Jini’s dress as best as she can, but the stain looks like it will stay for the rest of the night.
“Don’t sweat it,” Jini says, flustered again. “I think after this night, it’s not going to be the only stain. And also, I really do not care if I smell of alcohol after tonight.”
“So you really do plan on getting drunk.”
“So drunk that I’ll forget about both of our toxic relationships,” Jini responds with a smile. Before she can raise her hand to order another drink, Seulgi dashes away and returns almost instantly with two red cocktails.
“These are super sweet, with vodka. I bet you’ll love the taste and suddenly—bliss will hit you like a train.” Seulgi starts to drink first as if she was talking to herself. Thus ends the heavy chatter and light fun begins. Both girls crack jokes left and right and fill the bar with louder and louder noises. Laughter, laughter everywhere until they are kindly asked to move ‘upstairs’. Jini has no idea what’s ‘upstairs’, but she simply follows Seulgi who helps her up a hidden staircase behind the bars. The older girl is giggling like crazy, while Jini is confused about all the secrets in this mysterious bar.
“Where are we even… going,” Jini mumbles, complains, then laughs again as her head gets dizzy from the short exercise.
“Just some private room for private things,” Seulgi lewdly giggles and presses herself against Jini’s back as the door to a simple hostel room opens. Simple in design and layout, simple in lighting as there is only the faint moonlight illuminating the interior. Jini’s unfocused, unbothered eyes fall onto a bed and suddenly, she falls onto the bed as well. Seulgi must have guided her through the room, the door closed for privacy, and now they are entangled on the bed.
“Private things?” Jini asks sheepishly and looks back at Seulgi. The way the full moon reflects off of her pale skin and those wonderful, dreamy, drunk eyes suddenly erases the stinging pain deeply stuck in her heart. Jini never believed in miracles, but she just found hope, peace and love in her hopeless state of mind.
“Oh, you know, like talking about more serious matters,” Seulgi ponders, her tone drastically sarcastic as she drags a finger from Jini’s thigh over her curves up to her chin. “Or not talking at all~”
“B-but I think it’s very important to-to talk, before, uhm.” Jini tries her best. She fights against her drunkness, her dazzled mind and relaxed body. Although they all urge her to go on and just kiss the girl spooning her, holding her waist and her chin, Jini does not want to rush it. She stops before her lips meet Seulgi’s and her glassy eyes tell the older woman that the uncertainty is real. It can even trump the enhanced state of drunkenness they are both in.
“Then tell me, oh pretty girl, what important things do you want to talk about? I’ll try my best, but I’m really wasted, like I won’t comprehend your question properly, probably, prolally.”
Jini pouts and holds onto that smooth arm that secures her body to Seulgi’s. She can feel the amazing shape Seulgi is in. Trained, strong even, a nice bust and incredible hips. No, they are all urging her to just lose it. Jini wants to lose to the booze and the smell of Seulgi’s lips and very faint, but mind-melting perfume—but for now, she resists.
“I—I don’t want to stop! I want to sing and dance and be an idol and—shit, this won’t stop me. But I’m scared, because I’m gay. I’m gay and they are not. Sorry they can’t relate—but I know they won’t even tolerate it. I-I can’t even have an open, truthful job interview because of it!”
Jini’s ramble is stopped by Seulgi releasing a deep, somewhat unhinged sigh. It’s as if she couldn’t hide her frustration any longer. At first, Jini thinks she screwed up and just lost a night of (most likely) great sex. However, Seulgi, after a short stint of eye contact with the ceiling, locks eyes with Jini again. This time, she looks fierce, more determined than Jini has ever seen before.
“I know you, I can relate. I felt very similar. But all these ‘can’t’ and ‘won’t’ will never get you anywhere. It might not look like it, but there are cool people out there. They don’t care about who you like. They can manage your career around that, give you the necessary freedoms and can even hire good producers fairly often. There is a way around all the shit, believe me.”
“I want to believe,” Jini mewls and slams her fist into the bed and it creaks. “But for that, such a person not only had to exist but also have enough money to run a company or something; and fuck, it’s like only assholes run the biggest businesses.”
Seulgi rolls her eyes and laughs. “If only there was an experienced idol nearby that could help you to find such a person. But what do I know? I’m just a drunk lesbian talking to some rookie who’s like eight years younger than me.”
“Ten, actually,” Jini responds with a pout, but she quickly laughs when Seulgi’s drunk brain actually gets a small, shocked expression to form on that gorgeous, moonlit face. “Ten years that I don’t mind.”
“It’s still quite a lot, damn.” Seulgi bites her lip. Suddenly, Jini feels like she is even closer with the Red Velvet member. Maybe it’s because they are facing each other now, quick breaths touching the other, hands on the other's body. Maybe it’s because Seulgi reaches for Jini’d chin again and tilts her towards her lips in a way that is nonchalant and deadly. The temptation is too great.
“You know you’re an icon for younger idols—in fact many girls in and out of the closet? They wouldn’t mind this age gap; neither do I.”
“Oh yeah?” Seulgi asks, more sure of herself now as she presses her lips onto Jini’s and momentarily shuts the other girl down. For a few seconds after the disconnect, Jini is still mentally paralyzed and doesn’t realize that her hands are tugging at Seulgi’s clothes in an attempt to get rid of them. “I’ve heard they like me, but to be this crazy for someone ten years older? I think that’s just you—and all that booze is helping a lot.”
“C-can we still fuck?” Jini bluntly asks in a daze.
“Hm, sure. Let me show you something~”
Seulgi drops her jacket. It glides off her arms and Jini’s gaze follows it before Seulgi directs it back at her. The older girl is on top, her arms next to Jini’s head as she leans down for another kiss. This time, it’s passionate, a rapid attack of lips on lips and tongue on tongue. A bit too fast, a bit too violent, but actually just right for Jini. She wouldn’t want it any other way. This is so unlike Haewon, so surreal in fact that it’s more comparable to a wet dream than any masturbation or pornography.
Seulgi is absurd, the way she controls the kiss and presses her body on top of Jini’s. Instinctively, the younger girl tries to wrap her arms and legs around the one attacking her mouth, but Seulgi has different plans. She gently pushes Jini’s limbs away and makes sure she can lay in between her legs. At first Jini pouts, but then she feels what Seulgi wants to show her.
It’s akin to a dance. Seulgi’s hands roam from the top of Jini’s brown dress, along her arms and sides over her hips to the hem. In the meantime, the lips disconnect and draw a line of kisses down the dress, making sure to pay attention to all the stains of vodka, gin and rum. Jini knows where those lips will end up and the thought alone is sending her into a frenzy.
“How is this?” Seulgi asks, her cheek resting on Jini’s abdomen, her fingers playing with the hem of that dress, already carefully pushing it up her thighs.
“F-fantastic, oh God,” Jini groans and takes a deep breath when she looks down her body into Seulgi’s dazed eyes. Although Jini knows it’s just a reflection of moon light, nothing too special, it genuinely looks like Seulgi’s eyes are glowing on their own. A soft, cold light that sends a shiver down Jini’s spine—a shiver that is suddenly across her entire body when Seulgi’s mouth disappears behind that pulled up dress. “Y-yes, right there!”
A tongue on her thong, expertly finding the aroused nub below. Seulgi is clearly no stranger to this, which is emphasized by her not stopping. Her actions are nonstop. A twirl here, a strong lick there. Fluid motions from start to finish and Jini is tweaking, wetting her already arousal-stained thong with more of her fresh juice to the point she can’t keep eye contact anymore.
“Look at me, babe,” Seulgi commands softly, and Jini stands at attention. Somehow she keeps her upper body upright on her arms, but it’s all unstable, trembling. “I want you to go all out. Don’t hold back. Wrap your thighs around my head, pull my hair if you need you. I want you to cum on and on and on.”
“S-Seulgi, I—I’m not shaven, I—”
“Like I care.”
Too late and all over. Seulgi has a finger on the weakest spot, pulling aside that thin garment and leaving Jini exposed. Seulgi does not wait. Her tongue caresses the aching core and Jini presses it onto her face with a shriek. She is a moaning mess and she wants to be even louder. Seulgi knows and so she fiddles her clit, licks that cunt, goes all out until Jini is screaming profanities.
“Fuck, yes, lick me, fuck! Seulgi, eat my pussy, yes!”
A suck on her clit and Jini wraps her legs around Seulgi’s head. The older girl is delighted that her prophecy became true and continues. It’s like she has never done anything else in her life. Her girlfriend must truly be a lucky bitch, Jini thinks and tries to curse at this unknown person—but all her curses are those of pleasure. Pleasure, just pleasure. No more Haewon, no more JYP, just Seulgi eating her out until she is silly.
“I’m so close, you’re getting me close, I can’t—”
Jini pulls at Seulgi’s messy hair in an attempt to hold out a little bit longer. However, it’s all for nought. Not a single second longer. Jini explodes and floods Seulgi’s tastebuds with her runny nectar. Her head falls backwards into a pillow.
“Oh, we are not yet finished,” Seulgi laughs. Her voice is horny, a little bit crazy and very much drunk. She grabs both Jini’s waist and her back and pulls her up. Suddenly, the young woman finds herself seated on Seulgi’s thigh at the edge of the bed. “I need to see your face more. I want to hear you cum again, baby.”
“Ah, if-if you call me that, I—” Jini blushes. She can barely catch her breath with her face covered in her hands. Seulgi, however, continues. It’s for the best. It’s for Jini’s pleasure. She gets rocked back and forth on Seulgi’s thigh, her dripping core stimulated once more.
“Now I want to call you it more,” Seulgi whispers, one hand on Jini’s hips, the other trying to cup the idol’s face. “My baby. Cum on me. Forget about everything and just love me hard for tonight. I want you loud, cum so fucking loud that the neighbours start to complain.”
“I might, I might,” Jini moans and throws an arm around Seulgi’s shoulder. The two share an intimate gaze before Seulgi’s lips crash down on Jini’s chin. Another exposed weak spot that sends Jini spiraling into an abyss of more and more pleasure. She is falling, but not from Seulgi’s thigh. The older girl makes sure of that.
Soon Jini is riding on her own, wetting those black jeans. She finds it a bit sad that Seulgi gives her everything but she can’t seem to give her pleasure back. In an attempt to change this, Jini tries to sneak a hand into the top of Seulgi’s jeans after opening the button. At first successful, then futile. It urges Seulgi on more. She plants her fingers on Jini’s clit and rubs her in circles.
“Oh, fuck, Seul-gi!”
The tempo is slow but perfect. The timing is immaculate and Jini becomes a fountain. She squirts out her second orgasm all over Seulgi’s crotch, drenches her clothes and the edge of the bed in her girl cum, all while her voice finds new levels of volume. The bed shakes, the ceiling shakes, Jini’s world shakes as her orgasm washes everything away. Before the concoction of alcohol and orgasmic pleasure can push her into a blissful slumber, Seulgi kisses her with a giggle.
“After you wake up, you better get rid of my pants before using your fingers, babe~”
#
“Hello, it’s nice to meet you. You must be Miss Choi? Miss Kang told me a lot about you.”
“The pleasure is all mine, but please, just call me Jini. I’ve always been called by my stage name.”
“I’d love to do that. How about we sit down and you just tell me a little bit about yourself? I know that this organization has, rightfully so, put a lot of trust into your abilities. I personally value the recommendation of Miss Kang a lot, but I’d like you to tell me more, if you don’t mind?”
“I don’t mind at all. I think that my personal manager should know what they are getting into. I wouldn’t want to surprise you with something.”
“Wwe are on the same page then. Excellent.”
“It might sound a bit odd, but I think I should start off by saying that I, uhm, like girls and have a… very vibrant life when it comes to relationships and… yeah.”
“Oh, I can’t say this surprises me.”
“Uhm, what?”
“Well, I know Miss Kang has certain tendencies when it comes to this. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind and I don’t care. As long as I know everything I need to know to manage around certain things, you are free to do whatever you like.”
“R-really?”
“Yeah, sure. It’s my job as your manager to support and protect you.”
“You have no idea how much this means to me!”
You scratch the back of your head. The beautifully dressed girl in front of you smiles from one ear to the other, lyrics sheet in one hand, in the other the freshly signed contract. You don’t know why, but you surely seemed to have made her smile. So smile back.
“You’re welcome, I guess?”
#kpop smut#female idol smut#girl group smut#idol x idol smut#idol x idol story#nmixx smut#jini smut#nmixx jini smut#red velvet smut#seulgi smut#kang seulgi smut#haewon smut
306 notes
·
View notes
Text
What changes do you need to make in order to grow as a person?
＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
How to choose a pile?
Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.
Masterlist
Paid services
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR LOVE AND SUPPORT 🫶🏻💞
＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
Pile 1
Stop thinking and start doing. I see that you plan out things: you plan your workouts, your schedule, and how you will spend your day to be more productive, but you never actually put actions into your plans. You may be stuck in this cycle. I also see that some of you may procrastinate a lot, or some of you may have ADHD. You want to do things, but you don't have the energy to put actions into them. This is something you want to work on, but it seems beyond your control. You need to start slowly, doing one thing at a time. You don't need to do everything on your list; just start by doing one thing each day and increase the number of tasks every week or every day. It depends on you. You can change yourself by simply doing things you have already planned. You have the blueprint; now you just need to follow the instructions. You don't need to plan anything because you already have the plan. You just need to put actions into it. Sometimes you don't see the progress because there is little progress. You are not seeing progress because there is no progress at all, and you are not putting in enough effort to see it.
＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
Pile 2
Stop thinking that you already know everything. A person who thinks they know everything learns nothing. You are still young, and there are many things you need to learn to get through life. You may think you are mature enough to say anything based on your own judgments, but who are you fooling? There may have been moments when you were right about certain things, but that is not always the case. You need to learn, and only by learning can you grow as a person. Be aware of what is going on around you; do not be oblivious because you may have the tendency to ignore your surroundings to feel better, but that is not something you can always do. Sometimes you have to deal with things, and sometimes you will have to deal with some really nasty things. “Hope for the best, prepare for the worst”; this has to be a motto for life. I am not saying this because you will have a difficult life; I am saying this because I want you to be prepared for absolutely anything that is thrown at you. Honor the people around you; appreciate every person you meet, learn something from them, and see how drastically your life changes for the better.
＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
Pile 3
Stop self-sacrificing. Stop doing too much for others, especially for those who don't deserve it and who don't appreciate your actions and sacrifices. All your life, you have been a warrior. You have taken the lead and done things; you have been the logical one. But now it's time to choose yourself. I'm not saying that being a warrior is a bad thing; it is actually a great thing, but you need to balance that out. You are too logical, and you neglect your emotions. This may be why you are not able to deal with emotional people because you are not using that side of yourself. You have taken on the leadership role, but sometimes even a leader needs rest. Be more balanced and align your rational side with your emotional side. It's almost as if all your life you had the desire to fly in the sky, to be at the top, and you have done everything to achieve it, which is really amazing. But in all that, you have forgotten your roots. You have forgotten that even birds who are capable of flying for days and months require rest. (I don't know if that's right or wrong but that felt poetic lol) Well, some can hunt, eat, and sleep while flying, but that's another topic. You got the point, right?
＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
#tarot reading#pick a card#tarot cards#free readings#free tarot#tarot#pick a pile#tarotblr#pick a picture#pick a photo#paid readings#tarot deck#advice#self concept#self growth#spiritual community#tarot witch#witch community#tarotwithavi#tarotwisdom#tarot readings#tarotcommunity
289 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay, so.
We all know Louis is an amazing leader, whom we love dearly.
(If you’re not on board with this, get on board, I guess; I’ve already written about that)
But. When and where did he get good at this? Because for as much as I, you, and he love his brothers…no.
Just no.
We do see him starting his delegation tactics pretty early—mostly with Moran. It doesn’t work out especially well because Moran is Moran and doesn’t really have any interest in having a leader that’s not William, but honestly, Louis…wasn’t the best at delegating back then.
A lot of his early leadership/delegation/control was very forceful, inelegant, and focused on small, petty things that didn’t really matter. He’s always had the ultimate vibe of, “If I want it done right, I’ll have to do it myself.” Even when it comes to Moran—if he wants Moran to actually do his chores, he has to be very active and hands on about it.
He doesn’t trust enough to lead and delegate. And this even extends to his brothers. He loves them until the sun dies, but he always questions William and his plans, even if he ultimately agrees with William’s goals and wants to support him. He doesn’t trust Albert for ages and ages and eventually accepts him as a brother after literally murdering people together, but he never relies on Albert to do anything for him. As much as he loves and trusts them, and as much as they protect him…Louis doesn’t ever ask them to handle something for him.
Louis, even very early on, was trying to get control of things because not being in control meant everything was going to go sideways. He always had input to add and questions to raise and arguments to make, and they all involved him doing more, more, more.
But when we see him after the timeskip…that’s all fallen away.
Oh, he’s still in charge and issuing the orders to everyone else. And he’s still present and involved and fairly hands on. But he’s no longer micromanaging what other people are doing. He gives them their roles, and steps back to trust them to do their jobs. When he steps in during The Adventure of the Empty Hearts, it’s not to do other people’s jobs for them. He’s making sure they have the space necessary to do their own jobs. He divides up tasks and gives himself his own tasks that keeps him from hovering over everyone else.
And the first time we see him do that?
Sherlock Holmes.
Asking Sherlock to save William was the first time Louis had to ask someone to do something he simply did not have the ability to do himself. It was the first time, “If I want it done right, I have to do it myself,” was utterly unapplicable. Louis had already tried, and he’d failed.
So he reached out to someone he knew did have the skills, and passed the task onto him, without asking for details, without hovering and micromanaging and needing to know how things were happening and why.
He simply had to trust that Sherlock Holmes, someone he didn’t even like and had no reason whatsoever to trust to care or be invested, could and would do something if he asked.
And it was the first time he had to ask for something he cared about that much. Chores, ultimately, don’t matter. The details of William’s silly Shakespeare reenactments, ultimately, don’t matter. Exactly how they follow William’s orders in Baskervilles, ultimately, doesn’t matter.
The end result does.
And Sherlock Holmes taught Louis that, because it was the only option Louis had, and it was something so desperately dear to Louis’s heart, that he wanted done right so deeply that he learned to give up control and to trust that someone else had it handled.
And so I think in many ways Sherlock Holmes was the birth of Louis as M.
Even if Louis will never, ever want to admit it.
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
Things I think would happen if you were in a relationship with Karlach
Main masterlist I swear I’m working on a bg3 masterlist
1. Starting a relationship isn’t easy
You have no idea if she actually likes you and all of your advances feel like they’ve failed. She’s friendly to everyone and puts so much faith into your party that you cant gauge her approval of you. Numerous times you’ve tried to make a subtle move but with nothing to show. She always greets you with the same energy as she does everyone else. She gives you all the same smile and excitement. She supports everyone without a second thought. She politely rejects your affection every time you try to give her even a shred of what you truly want to.
The night of the tiefling party comes around and you’ve finally worked up the courage to just tell her. I imagine that you’ve enlisted Shadowheart and Astarion to help you get ready and they’ve spent hours at this point doing so. Your hair has been washed and styled by Astarion’s nimble fingers while Shadowheart has lightly painted your face with makeup she’s made from the foliage around your camp. Wyll and Gale both have stopped in theirs tracks to compliment you as well as having agreed to keep Karlach busy and away from you. Lae’zel has been sitting by the entire time pretending to be sharpening her swords but also adding her own input every now and then. At one point she took over braided because Astarion didn’t get them tight enough and she can’t stand it.
When the others have decided that you’re ready, they huddle around with nervous energy and give you a big thumbs up as you walk away. By now Karlach has figured out that something is going on however it’s not until she sees you that it full registers. Her breath catches as she looks over to see you walking her way. She’s always thought you were beautiful but the moonlight and general joy of the evening gives you a glow she can’t ignore. Like the moon goddess herself, you seem to radiate the night sky’s beauty and she can’t help but stare at you with an open mouth. She almost doesn’t hear your shy greeting and has to shake herself back to reality.
Your entire conversation feels like a dream and she almost doesn’t believe that she hears you right when you confess your feelings for her. There’s no way that the leader of her party, the Hero of the grove likes her, right? Surely you’re good friends with everyone and you’re just making your rounds. Surely your dressed up look tonight is meant for someone else. Surely there’s no way that you’re telling her that you have feelings for her and oh gods she’s an idiot for not seeing the signs sooner.
Gay panic is real my friends and Karlach is 110% a victim of it every time.
2. You’re a menace to her
You’re always putting yourself at risk for those who need it. Not a day goes by where you’re not getting your party into some sort of fight because you can’t say no. It’s one thing to help escort the Tieflings but it’s another to take out an entire goblin camp for them. Sometimes she thinks you do it only to scare her and make her blood pressure spike. Don’t even get me started on how frantic she would get if you were injured. She’d rage on everyone and take on every enemy alone if it meant Shadowheart could heal you without distraction.
But there’s another form of menacing that gets under her skin the most.
Following the tiefling party, it becomes established that physical intimacy is off the table. It’s worse yet when Dammon confirms that he can’t do anything at the moment but promises to find a solution later on. It’s hard on her to be so close yet so far from the one thing she desires the most and you make it even worse.
It started out innocently; you’d tell her when you’d go to clean up so someone knew where you were but she can’t help herself. She’d follow you to the water to keep you company most times. Keeping her back turned, Karlach likes to listen to you ramble about your day and hear you so relaxed as you cleanse your body of dirt, grim, and other nasty things. Sometimes she’d peak when she thinks you wouldn’t notice but you always do. You wink and playfully splash at her as you continue to go about your task. However sometimes upon making eye contact, you can see that she’s burning so hot you’re worried that she might combust on the spot. Her yellow eyes have scanned and committed every inch of your body to memory, further fueling her desire for you. Should she join you, the water might come to a boil with the way her engine’s flames are almost consuming her. Embarrassment is too weak a word to describe the disgusting feeling that overcomes her when she realizes she’s been caught. You always reassure her that you’re flattered and quite enjoy her affections however it does nothing to convince her.
That’s when you decide to test the waters.
Once in the shadow lands and having spoken to Dammon privately after Karlach does, you know that there’s an end in sight for this celibate relationship. It’s only a matter of finding the iron that he requires so you begin a little experiment of sorts.
Karlach is a tease in her own right and can be shamelessly filthy when she wants. The sight of her in combat alone makes you burn as hot as her but it’s when she chooses to murmur filthy things into your ear late at night that destroys you the most. The time has come for you to return the favor.
Would wearing your shirt ties looser ignite her flames? Would trading clothes with Shadowheart one night be the thing that tips the scales? Would forging clothes altogether when you’re sleeping side by side be what makes her feral?
Karlach does what she can to keep her shit together but it’s all becoming too much. She starts to burn blue almost all hours of the day as you get closer and closer to finding the infernal iron. When you finally do find it, you look at each other with astonishment and surprise.
“Did we…did we just…” the words tumble out of her mouth as she stares at it in your hands.
“Oh my gods I think we did.”
Fast forward to when Dammon has fixed her as best as he can and proposes a test to see if it worked. Karlach is practically vibrating with excitement and nerves at the thought of finally getting to touch you. Feeling your arms wrap around her and hold her as if you’re afraid she’s going to disappear absolutely melts her heart. Overwhelming joy washes over her as she clenches to you as well but something else comes over her too. A realization.
She’s touching you.
She’s actually able to touch you without hurting you.
Years of pent up desire and thoughts of pure debauchery begin to consume her mind. What was once joy quickly morphs in lust and she has to pull away from you to avoid claiming you like a rutting predator right in front of Dammon.
3. Disguise is your favorite spell
Let’s talk about the elephant in the room; sex toys are going to be difficult to get in this world. No one can convince me that you could find a strap on in the Emerald Grove or Moonrise towers. Obviously you can go without them but if you have a disguise spell on hand, why not use it???
The first couple of times you and Karlach have sex, it’s sweet and gentle. It borders love making with the way she utterly worships your body and you hers. Things do get rougher when the years of going without touch catch up to her but for the most part it’s soft and tender. Karlach wants to memorize you because she’s terrified she’s going to lose you so she takes her time. You want to ensure that she knows she won’t lose you so you devote yourself to her pleasure every night without fail.
However Karlach has this…daydream that has begun to worm its way to becoming all she thinks about it.
She wants to fuck you stupid.
She wants you babbling and sobbing with pleasure as she fucks you senseless. She wants her name to be the only thing you remember and your body to be covered in her scent, marks, seed, anything and everything that is her.
Enter said disguise spell and there you have it; the chance to make her fantasy real
#karlach x reader#karlach x tav#karlach#Karlach imagine#karlach bg3#karlach fanfic#bg3 imagine#bg3 tav#bg3 fanfiction#bg3
50 notes
·
View notes
Text
some gang rivals to lovers bartylus headcanons because im hyperfixating on barty rn and need to let this out:
some nsfw under the cut, they'll be in italics (everything is SSC)
the crouch family are quite new money because barty crouch sr brought back their original family business after his 'passive' father stopped it
barty is still getting used to being the son of a gang leader and having this insane respoinsibility but he lowkey loves it
he can drive nice bikes, go to clubs and bars and spend his money on drinking and weed as much as he wants
he stays away from harder drugs as his dad 'tests the product' so to speak
the crouch's product is drugs mainly so barty is usually always on jobs for his dad because the old man is rarely sober enough to do it
he has a switch blade on him at all times tucked into his shoe
the only reason he hasn't left the business is because of his mother and younger sister, they're his world
angelica crouch is five years younger than barty and starting to go out partying as well and he lowkey hates it and follows her to make sure shes safe, they get into constant arguments over this but she knows her brother is protecting her at all times
his mother is quite weak as she was born with muscular dystrophy and even though she was a sahm barty raised his sister just as much as she did
she also had barty young, 19, so they grew up together
barty's family has a lot of 'agreements' with other gangs and companies that shuttle their product discreetly but one family they don't talk to or have deals with is the black family
the crouch and black feud has been an ongoing thing for generations — pollux black and barty's grandfather almost killed each other before making a peace agreement to just stay away from one another
regulus black, the youngest member of his family, has always been shielded as his older brother and older cousins are the more aggressive ones in the family that help their parents
he tends to just spend their money and party instead of being apart of the violence or meet ups, but sometimes sirius takes him along to get him used to it
one of these meet ups ends with barty helping them as he was walking by when the hand over (the black family usually smuggle weapons as well as drugs) went wrong and the buyers tried it on with reg, barty shot them without thinking
regulus thinks he's a bit of a prick but he did save his life so he thanks him and sirius explains that as good as it was that he was there, he cannot talk to him as it goes against their agreement in the family
but then barty starts showing up where regulus is (his college, parties, pubs, his morning run etc) and even though they bicker as barty is a flirt and regulus 'isnt interested' things start to take a turn
one night regulus goes clubbing without his friends or sirius and tries to find barty himself at one of his father's clubs and some creepy guys start being weird around him and he's trying to leave but they follow him and then who tf appears from the shadows? barty
his knuckles are bloody and bruised by the time he's done and regulus insists he come back to his to try and clean him up, barty is a good fighter but those guys were twice his weight so he got hit kinda bad, and barty is reluctant but agrees
reg's bodyguards arent snitches but you know they're giving each other 'oop' looks when they see the crouch heir wandering into the apartment
reg cleans barty up and tells him to shower and then he sees how many fucking tattoos this guy has and maybe reg is turned on, maybe...
and he's trying so hard not to flirt with him or touch him but its REALLY hard okay barty is tall and hot and he's also protective as shit?
but then barty is sat on the kitchen counter in just his boxers and some short ass shorts that he borrowed from regulus and regulus is standing between his legs because they're bickering and god reg wants to touch his thighs because they're RIGHT THERE and barty knows he's staring so he just kisses him
reg instinctively slaps him and barty's like 'do it again'
they fuck like three times that night and god is it good
barty seems dominant and reg isnt into that but turns out barty is submissive but he has issues with bottoming from past relationships
so reg blows him and hes whimpering and choking himself and biting his bruised fucking knuckles to stop moaning so loud but reg is so good it hurts
and then reg rides him into the bed and chokes him and slaps him and barty is the happiest guy on the planet
plus hes really good at eating pussy so regulus gets him to do that a couple times
regulus has only been with two people before this because he doesn't wanna drag innocent people into his families life but barty is more violent than him so he doesnt care,,,,plus he makes him cum SO much its insane and he's never finished with anyone else before
his thighs are shaking every time they switch positions and the FLITH barty whispers into his ear when they fuck because he can be a little dominant sometimes when he's riled up enough and reg is just grinning the entire time because this boy might be his new favourite toy to play with
they smoke on the balcony together after one of the rounds and talk about how much they hate their families but they're staying for a few chosen people and it sucks but its how they were raised
the morning after barty has to leave but reg is like look i know we shouldnt but i wanna do that again and barty is like literally text me anytime of day and i'll be on my knees for you and reg is like bet
so they start up a lil fwb behind their families backs and they're sneaky about it but sirius and angelica get too close to catching them
this is basically all i've got so far but come on,,,,you see the vision
#the marauders#regulus black#barty crouch jr#bartylus#headcanons#portfolio#this is so long but i love them
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
Heart of the Great Wolf
53 - Screams of Cracking Ice
Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)
Length: 17.1k
Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, disturbing imagery, blood and gore, bodily harm, past character deaths, mental health distress, unspecified implied mental illness
Notes: Fun fact exactly one year ago I posted chapter one of this story. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here
The silence within the air was deafening. In moments when the wind had picked up, so did the white cold come with it and many sounds increased in the horror within your blood. First was the distant yelling of men, followed by the sounds of blades and shouts you knew of war but it was what followed that was unlike any battle you had known. Yelling and blades and shouts begun turning to sounds of pain followed by the undeniable echoing of screaming terror.
Whoever these men were, it was the dread of the unknown which overtook you, as your heart pounded so roughly in your chest you felt as if you would pass out from it alone. But then the sounds faded until they stopped. But not because the fighting had been won, not by those once screaming. No, they had all fallen dead to the ground and no doubt gotten back up as a blue eyed corpse and walked away with their new leaders.
Your blood shivered in your veins, lips feeling as if they would begin to turn a tint of blue as you stayed hidden until you were sure the sounds of night returned without the danger. Until the winds left in such capacity. s=Some time you were hidden away, and only then did the strength find you to return to the surface. Almost a little ditch in the rocks by the side did you force yourself to slide down when it begun.
Blood now down where you had been knocked around, and the pain returned to your body tenfold as the fear subsided. Forcing the dragonglass back to hide on your person, you pushed upwards with a wince at the rock you tried to pull over the space you sunk into, perched at the side hoping the cover of dark would be enough. First one hand the next at grasping the edge, lifting your feet with an agony radiating down your leg from your knee, most of the remainder vibrating up to your pelvis as you wondered were you to properly shine light on you, could you distinguish what was blood you spilled of other men and what was blood from birthing a child.
You felt out of your mind thinking it was only hours ago. Night still was over the land, you had only been able to feed your baby once, an hour the little one took to get what he needed, and it verged on dangerous to be gone much longer without giving him any other way to feed.
Whatever happened next, you needed to find Jon no matter what.
Palms against the cold ground, your face twisted in pain as you pushed to rest on your knees. One hand coming to your lower stomach where the sting once more was felt. It could not be safe for you to strain your body so physically after birthing a child but it wasn't allowed to be about you. Exhaling deeply as your eyes fluttered shut, you continued steady breaths to try and calm your racing heart from making you feel even more lightheaded.
Nothing was around when you opened your eyes, but pushing up to your unsteady feet you looked around. Hair blowing in the wind, you had such a childish thought. Jon loved your hair at this length, and you felt selfish for keeping that from him for so long. It didn't even matter, it was hair, but yet you felt the guilt of depriving the man you love from something about you he loved. But as you stood alone, maybe all you wanted to do was focus on what didn’t matter.
If you focused on something as stupid as how much Jon loves your hair, you wouldn't have time to focus on what else you'd be depriving him of should you not find him before it was too late. Stumbling forward at first, you hesitated in your wince again. The cold air now stinging the blood around what on you was exposed to the elements, but with a grunt you forced yourself to step forward. Forced yourself to walk despite the flashing pain through your entire lower half each limping step.
Hands grasping at trees passing to steady yourself, it was so dark and you realized you didn't know these lands at all alone. You had made it here because of Benjen, and you had the return of a floating worry in your mind that if he were gone it was your fault. Seeing him last fighting the men to give you a chance to run, if they cut him down, he'd have gotten back up with blue eyes. If the Others got to him, he was still walking with blue eyes.
And it would be your fault since he was there to help guide and protect you. But too you knew, you had needed him to walk you safely through here. You were alone and lost and didn't know what direction Jon was in from here, you didn't know how to get back to the cave from wherever this gorge was and as you tried to hold back a hiss at the heaviness of steps declining downward, you felt something even worse.
The Others had come for Gillys son, they had taken Crasters sons as offerings. What if you got to Jon and your baby was no longer with him, but not because he did not survive without you? Would they take the baby and leave Jon alive or were you to find a lost baby and Jon to haunt you as the dead once more. Or would he-
You knew you had to stop, you couldn't consider what they'd do with him. It wasn't the same as other people, but it was scarier now. You had not a clue what they'd do with Jon if he had no way of fighting he and his sons way out of there. Or did the men who took you kill him? How were you supposed to bring him back out here?
Thoros said the power exists within you freely, but that was not helpful. It meant you did not have a way to bring him back with knowledge or logic, what were you to do? If keeping Jon alive was your purpose in new life, why were you not given the details of how to do so? Why separate you both so drastically?
But it was first a different Stark you needed, you were lost out here without Benjen, but calling for him felt a trap. As if the moment you did, the dead would reveal their tricks and come for you now that you came out of hiding. Almost out of breath from the way your nerves soared in you, your back rested against the nearest tree, sliding down you crouched to the ground with your eyes flipping closed.
Deep even breaths through your nose and a slow exhale blowing air from your mouth, keeping calm as you as a child were taught to stay calm. You would not allow that anxiety to overtake when so much was on the line to find Jon, but you may not have had a choice in the matter.
Approaching in the dark, only it's eyes were visible from afar. Your hair on the back of your neck standing up but you felt not the danger from before, but it didn't need to be. This threat did not announce itself with nature on it's own. Slowly opening your blurry vision to the darkness, your eyes peeled to the side only to see a figure.
Eyes blue and glowing but of a man, and the distinct sight of a bloody axe clutched in its dead right hand, walking right for you. It could not end here, but your own eyes wide, hands shaking reaching for the dagger on you but you too would need to stand back on your feet with the energy to fight. Flinging the axe up into both its hands every option flew through your mind how to avoid it but by the time your hands grasped the cold glass like dagger did something act first.
The corpse with its blue eyes rose its arms to to strike down, and just as you were going to have to force yourself forward to dodge did something overtake your eardrums. Flying passed your head was a vicious growling, and in the dark of night something strikingly white as the snow followed the growling and snarling.
Lungs no longer with air in them you watched as the large sight of Ghost jumped in front of you and knocked the dead away from you before grabbing at his leg in it's teeth. Dragging against the way it crawled towards you like it had but one goal in mind with your blood. Muscles shaking you did what you first told yourself to do, lunging forward and as one of its hands grabbed at your neck trying to keep you in its control. Allowing it to drag you to him only enough as Ghost forced it back every time it could've snapped your neck until you were knelt at the right angle.
Grasping with your left hand at its stringy hair, you gripped it tightly and a struggle ensued it to keep your breathing so sparse your lightheaded vision turned black around you, but you forcing it closer to your right hand where the dagger waited for it. But your drive was more then whatever northern powers controlled it. You needed to get back to Jon and the baby and that was stronger then it's only goal of blood. Risking it yanking your head violently with it, you slammed it down onto the sharp edge of the dragonglass once then twice as dark, almost a molasses like blood of black flew to cover your face more then the dried blood of a living man did.
More then once before it fell and only when it let go of your neck as everything else of it ended did Ghost let go. Only to growl once more as another inhuman sound approached behind. Turning you almost fell backwards, trying to force yourself over the dead body into the large direwolf realizing you couldn't pull the corpse off your dagger in enough time.
Only you didn't have to find a new plan in seconds, as Ghost suddenly bite at the thick of your cloak and dragged you backwards faster then you could crawl just as the sight of flames came into view. Thrusting into it's back and within seconds it joined the other corpse, fire spreading to it as well until Ghost had dragged you safely away from it.
Palms braced against the snow your eyes looked up as your chest heaved for proper air, did the dark figure stab the torch into the ground as they knelt before you. Grasping at your arms, you felt somehow even more relieved to see Benjen Stark this time then the last. His eyes looking you over as the blood he seemed to be covered with was that of men not dead. “Are you alright?”
Nodding as you swallowed roughly, he could see the slight shock on you clearly. Easy to put together that this was all beginning to pile up on your resolve. Asking through the stuttered letters in the overwhelming nerves and cold mixing inside you, “Where did you go?”
Stayed knelt to not rush you, Ghost remained firm behind you like a pillar as he had hours ago in the cave when you leaned back against him in agonized screams. Benjen a bit more light as he was a bit out of breath too from whatever exertion he put forth before finding you once more. “Hid, just like you did. Ghost found me right before it happened, and it was too late to get to you.”
Muttering somewhat to yourself as your eyes drifted to nothing, “The horn.”
He nodded before continuing. “One for friend, two for foe. Three for them. First time I've been the one giving that warning myself.” Quickly you muttered it was the first you heard it as he gave the hint of a grin before leaning in again at your wince trying to stand. “When I asked if you were alright, the answer was no.”
Shaking your head you tried to stand again only to have Ghost be the one to again bite your cloak and yank you back to him instead. Your brows furrowing as you instinctively looked back to him in a playful glare. But it was then it hit you. Ghost, he had found your scent and tried to come for you. Turning slightly you let a hand shaking run over his fur as his tune changed to something more gentle. Large head nuzzling forward against yours gently with a whine.
A laugh came from Benjen much more distinctly that time. “Clearly Jons not the only one who missed you.” A gentle smile tried to come from your pained expression, whispering to the direwolf without much feeling that Benjen could hear you whisper you missed him too, to Ghost. Waiting for the direwolf to nuzzle against you once more before interrupting at least. “If he's here, that means Jons close. Walking is going to hurt, but I suspect if I try and carry you, you'd take offence to that.”
Your slight furrow in your brows at the thought said it all. Allowing him to wrap an arm around your side and lift you into him, you inhaled with a hiss. Were he not firm to support you, you'd have stumbled in pain and the sting of the limp from your knee did not help. Ghost came to come slightly in front of you both, looking back to wait until Benjen begun helping you move.
Slowly making your way carefully down the hills incline, you answered his previous estimation. “I don't suppose you'd have any way of convincing Jon not to do the same, would you?”
Benjen laughed, tilting his head in thought as you two now walked through the dark forest towards the clearing you had first ran from. “No, he's far too much like Lyanna in that way. Hard to convince him of anything if it's to care for one of his own.” Your heart skipped a beat but you gave nothing away in any other fashion. Not the time, certainly not your right nor place.
You couldn't see anything as you entered the clearing of the gorge, but you wondered if you walked further in, would you see a symbol you know might even recognize? Did they consider enough left out here to leave such a message for? Even with as much as you all knew now, you still felt as if you knew not a scrap of anything about the storms coming.
But you too had not the mind for it, you needed to make it back to Jon, and pray you had not taken too long to return. You prayed with a heavy heart that he might have carried a small bundle with him.
He was at his wits end.
Jon could not continue to father his newborn, and play father to the group behind him. He had enough on his mind. Having taken his son a good distance away, not even bothering to explain what he was doing, the arguing almost didn't even stop beyond what Jon suspected was Bran trying to acknowledge his older brother.
He just needed silence for even a moment. Fathering his son, some of it came easy, but others didn't. It was creeping up on close to too long since he was last fed, and he knew the baby didn't understand why his mother still wasn't here for him. Jon could only comfort him so much.
Perhaps he thought, the distance too was for his own sake. It was hard to force away any tears from falling when the water was welling up so steadily. Against the muffles of fur all around the baby and Jon keeping him close as he attended to him, the distance too with the slight wind acted at least as a way to keep the sounds to just the two of them. It wasn't a full cry he knew newborns could have, but it certainly was a cry that Jon knew he couldn't fix.
The flash through his mind as he kept a hand, now without his gloves, on the baby's chest gently trying to keep any skin contact together as it helped somewhat keep his own tears lessened. The more his son cried the faster Jon wanted too. But then the thought rushed into him. How long did he cry for, not understanding why his own mother was not there anymore.
How long did it take Jon as a baby to realize his mother was never going to be with him again?
Looking down, the bright and wide eyes were so distinctly his but the green in them was yours. Rasping gently down at him only for the babys ears as he finished things. “I know I said we'll find her you and I. I'm trying, I promise.” Now able to re wrap his son properly to swaddle him in what Jon hadn't previously realized, was actually a shirt of yours. Maybe it still smelled like you, maybe it was bringing his son any comfort.
Not bothering to strap him back to his chest until the others behind him would settle a bit to discuss what Jon was going to do next, he kept his son high up against his front to keep him close and protected from the cold again. Jon didn't want to think about the way Bran kept looking at Jon as he returned, he didn't want his brother to look at him like that. Until Jon was sure he could find you alive and safe, he didn't want to be looked at like he was good at this.
If Jon was a father now, he wasn't just supposed to protect just his baby, he was supposed to protect the mother of his child too. No man who lets the mother of his child die so far away from where he should've been to keep her safe, deserved to be looked at as worthy of such an image. Perhaps, Jon knew, that one came from for more resenting of a place then the situation he was in. He just had to tell himself that, and he hated that he was at all scared it would be in any way true.
Jon reminding himself fervently, they were not the same. He was not Rhaegar.
It was not surprising, that Bran was not particularly amicable towards Yara. Most of those from the Iron Islands likely would hold a difficult place in the hearts of Northerners. It took a great deal of redemption to bring such an image around on Theon, who had indeed done horrible things. But Yara was much of what Theon could be like, without the humility of such horrors being put upon him to bring him down to the ground. And Bran who had witnessed much of what they did first hand, did not shy away from it.
“You aren't sorry for what you did, only because now you have no one left.” The discussion had somehow turned to what to do about her when they returned to Winterfell, as it seemed her returning to the Iron Islands was not a well suited option for her own survival. Jon understood Brans position, but he hadn't gotten anywhere near thinking that far head.
Coming out from where they had been hiding in the dark, there was still no sign of Ghost. Too much was going wrong, too many going missing and Jon felt truly like he was losing his grip on everything. As if he suddenly was failing everyone around him. Looking out to the darkness beyond, Jon exhaled roughly, where could you possibly be out there? How was Jon supposed to find you in time?
Pulling the baby a little from his front, he looked him over once more. He was never supposed to have this, something of his own making. He and you together created him, a son he'd end up calling a Snow but without the fear of what having a bastard for a son would do to his child's life. Now he was out here, the two of them missing you and Ghost now. Even when he first thought he might have something, it was taken apart.
But it was all on him, he had to do what needed to be done. No matter how much it weighed on his heart. Rasping gentle for a baby's ears only, Jon held him up with one careful hand and the other gently let his thumb run across his tiny cheek. “I don't want to leave you behind, but if I'm going to find her, I need to move fast.”
Barley a small noise came from him now that he was a bit more settled, but Jon swallowed roughly. He and the others would be safe here for a while, but Jon needed to be fast about looking for you if he had a chance to bring you back in time. The Ironborn had all been here when the Others came, meaning you weren't any further west nor were you already being taken to Pyke. You had to be somewhere east, and Jon had come from the south-east to get here, so he knew you'd likely have to come from somewhere more straight narrowed or depending on how far they dragged you, more north-east.
Muttering quiet again, Jon gave one more promise. “I said we're all making it home, and we will. But I have to go out there now, so you have to stay here and protect the others. Alright?” Barley a babble of any noise same from him, pulling his son gentle as he leaned in. Pressing a kiss to the top of his head as he exhaled shakily against him. “Wolves protect their pack, and we aren't a proper one until we get her back.”
By the time he had rejoined the group, Jon ignored whatever arguing they had done. Moving passed them all and going towards his pack. Cutting through the noise muffled as he faced partially away from them. “I need you three to stay here and watch him.”
“What?” Ignoring their protests, Jon stood up making his way over to the equally as doubtful Bran, kneeling down to his little brothers level and ignoring the others.
Eyes flashing with something not holding room for debate, Jon spoke low and rough. “I'm going back out there to find her, but I need to move fast and quiet.” Bran asking what about him, his eyes darting down to the baby still in Jons arms but he tilted his head pushing passed the beg in his heart not to leave him behind. “He isn't safe out there, and I need to find her before it's too late. You have to keep him safe for me.” Trying to shake his head Jon shut down the protest. “You're his blood, Bran. His family.” Shifting so he could cup the side of his brothers head he leaned in, “I can't waste anymore time then I already have, I need you to protect him.”
Nodding, but there was still a hesitation in him. Looking down now to the baby, Bran murmured quiet as if he was sleeping, “Only if you promise you'll come back.” Jon felt himself smile, a small one but genuine as he huffed out a breath of a laugh. Leaning forward to pull his brother close, leaving a kiss to his forehead he kept both their eyes close as he moved back.
Jons tone serious but with a lightness as if to ease Brans own nerves. “You knew where I was out here to find me, but you don't know if I'm coming back or not?” Bran argued without elaborating much that it didn't work that way, but Jon felt no need to question it. “Keep him close.” Glancing up to the approaching Meera he turned back with something a bit more forcingly jesting in his eyes. “And don't let Meera name him anything while I'm gone.”
Both he and Bran let out a laugh, as she looked jokingly offended without committing to any comment. Instead choosing to nod, she gave her sincerity. “Bran will watch over him, I'll make sure to watch what she does.” Knowing she was glancing back to Yara, currently looking and likely feeling quite out of place. Giving one last kiss to his own sons forehead, Jon carefully placed the bundle in Brans hands, at least knowing it was easier for him to stay a little calmer in the hands of another Stark.
Don't look back he told himself. Don't look back or he might feel that weak resolve to not leave his son, but Jon had to be stronger then that. Taking only what he needed, he travelled far lighter this time as he swiftly made his path into the dark trees. The gorge was where he needed to start.
“How did you know where to go?”
Still wincing with each limp, you glanced up at Benjen to the side as you continued to follow Ghost through the forest. A hum of question in his throat you clarified. “Coming here, how did you know to come all the way here if this wasn't where they were originally taking me.”
His answer was far to calm for the words he said. “I know because Bran told me. Neither of us knew what it would take to get here, just that this was where we needed to both go.” Your head foggy still, none of that made sense but you suspected Benjen was well aware of that. “He knew you were in danger, and we needed a place we could both get to separately that wasn't out of the way.”
Shaking your head, you sighed deeply but let the quiet sit between you for a moment until your mind stirred once more in confusing thought. “So..does Bran have,” You were going to say what you have, but when you still did not greatly understand this ability, you switched to something a bit more on the side of diplomatic. “He came out here with Howland Reed's children, and he says one of them has visions, is that why they sought Bran out? He has them as well?”
The answer did not help the fog in your lightheaded mind. “Not quite. It's all more complicated then that. A lot more complicated now.” His voice trailing off a bit into the fading unknown but did not elaborate. Nor did you ask him too. Perhaps the North would make more sense if you stopped demanding answers in such detail for every new act it brought from unusual abilities of the world.
The clearing looked haunting as it did empty. Barley you could see it trail on for what likely was miles, and yet not a hint of the massacre you had hidden from. Not realizing you had stopped somewhat, Benjen calling your name quietly as your eyes widened looking to the nothing illuminated by a sky of green. Something horrible had happened here, but it was impossible to try and imagine.
Even with what you knew now, it was impossible to know what it could look like. What you had learned, and still it was just as terrifyingly real what was coming. How it was supposed to be spoken of as if one saviour would rise up from the darkness and save you all. Every man wishing he could be special, as if in the cold of the long night, one fool of a man would run up to the enemy thinking he could end an eternal darkness with a single swing of his sword.
All these stories about warriors and chosen ones, it was all useless against the real world you lived in, and how complicated it was already and how much more it was about to become. And somewhere in there, you were supposed to fit in this tale and you hated it. You didn't belong anywhere near it, you weren't raised for some bigger purpose.
You were raised to marry a high lord and have his children. Not any of this. You were out of your depth and you did not even manage yet to fulfill the most important aspect of what you were raised by. You failed Robbs son, and you did not even know yet if you already failed Jons.
It was Ghost however who turned on a dime, looking down to the dark nothing and back. A weak ask on your lips, “What is it?” Only for him to turn and look back, then meet you both again with something expecting. Benjen glanced down at you and motioned you to the rock wall behind. “Stay right here, I'll go see what it is first.” Nodding, he beckoned Ghost with him.
It didn't take long for the two to disappear into the darkness as only the sounds of the night remained around you. Struggling to make your way down to even crouch with a wince, you pulled open the edges of your pants by your thigh to try and gauge how your knee looked, but you knew it likely looked about as good as the rest of you. The cold hardly assisting the bruises over much of you by this point in addition to everything else.
Head dropping in a sigh, you couldn't help but feel that weight of guilt trickle back in once more. What sort of person finds herself here? What did it speak of you as a Queen, a wife, a mother? What could you possibly give when it seemed something, or someone had tried to tear you all so desperately apart by blood?
It was eerily silent out there. The gorge was empty, not a sign of life remaining in any capacity. Whatever dead were here got up and walked away in the most disturbing of manners possible, Jon knew. But it was why he hadn't come out here with any more then he, you, and Ghost. He didn't want to give the Others a reason to think they were preparing for an attack again like Hardhome. Everytime what looked an army gathered, they would come and Jon knew he had to avoid it.
Euron Greyjoy did not know that. He sent a garrison of men to kill him, and kidnap one woman. And they paid the worst price not even Jon considered something they deserved. He felt his heart race as he walked the length of the gorge. He didn't know where Ghost was, and he didn't know where you had been when this happened, if you were even close.
Would you remember what to do? Would the men keeping you let you if you did?
Something felt as if it was making the hair on the back of his neck stand up, the sensation of something nearby with eyes watching and yet he knew it was not behind him. Hand coming up to rest firmly at the hilt of Longclaw, Jon had the advantage he knew none of the men here had. He had multiple defences, but it seemed, something about Valyrian Steel was a clue of sorts.
You had said they were not at all connected to dragonglass, as the later was a naturally occurring rock in very hot volcanic climates of the world. Saying they used fire and blood magic to make Valyrian Steel but what did that have to do with any of this? How does one connect to the other in anyway Jon still did not understand.
Still, such lack of information did not remedy the feeling he was walking towards something. The remains of what occurred out here was most likely, but Jon despite what he knew now, was still a man better prepared for even a sliver of it then most. Stepping carefully forward in the cold dark, Jons eyes narrowed and filled in the remainder with a sharpness at what approached, his eyes now more then well adjusted to the lack of light but what was overhead.
Each step forward was careful until from the shadows came a shape he knew far better then the dead. Tall and large, but still the same as he was before and judging by his swift speed, thankfully unharmed. Calling out as his voice somewhat echoed against the narrowed valley he stood in, “Ghost?”
His direwolf trekking through the snow, rushing up to him as Jon met him in the middle just as swiftly. Kneeling down he ran a hand over his fur looking him over with a relief heavy in his chest. Rasping lowly to him as Ghost whined at Jon in his own relief as well, “Where did you go, boy?” His head turned behind him into the darkness Jon had just waited for him to come out of with a narrowed expression. “What's out there?”
But the voice which followed was the last he expected to ever hear again. “I thought you were smart enough to realize I never wanted you out here in the first place.”
Eyes peeling upwards, and there he was. Rougher then he last saw all those years ago up on the Wall, and something distant in his eyes which Jon was sure deeply matched his own now but he was still the same. Not dead, no blue eyes, just the uncle he once thought was lost forever, and the disbelief heavy on his tongue. “Uncle Benjen?”
Standing up he almost thought his eyes were deceiving him at first, but once more the sound of his voice was as real as the one coming from Jons own mouth. “Jon..” The two looked to one another for only a moment before what led them here didn't matter for only a moment.
Moving to the other, both hugged tightly as Jon felt all of the air in his lungs leave as something stringing replaced it along with something looping in his heart, the last of this part of their family Jon thought would be gone forever. Hardly even pulling back both holding the other by the arms and despite the hours preceding did a grin find both. “I thought I'd never see you again.”
A deep exhale left Benjen, as well as a blatant honesty Jon finally understood. “I never wanted to tell you I didn't know if I was coming back. Thought you needed hope more then you needed the truth.” Not a hint of care in either did they hug once more.
The last of Ned and Lyanna Stark either had and neither would take it lightly. Only for a moment did Jon let his heart settle a bit before asking, “What are you doing out here?”
“Looking for you.” Brows narrowing, his uncle elaborated as they pulled apart properly. “Or partially looking for you. Bran was on your trail.” Despite how he moved right on passed it, Jons face twisted in confusion even more. Bran and Benjen were together, with a knowing neither was saying yet. But it was a horrid splash of ice against his skin when your name came out. “I went out on my own to look for her, make sure someone rescued her before the Ironborn takes her to Euron.”
His heart picked up unpleasantly once more, as it felt so much the past few hours. “What do you know about him? What does he want with her?” Saying he didn't quite have all the answers for that, Jon glanced between him and Ghost when suddenly it was as if something inside him flipped. Why he was out here back right on track without any question. “I need to find her as soon as I can, she's hurt and I don't know what happened to her since-”
Cutting Jon off, his uncle took him so off guard that Jon needed him to repeat what he said mere seconds after he first said it. So he repeated, slower and understanding that clearly the workings behind Jons eyes were utterly racing a thousand directions. “She's more then a bit roughed up, but she's alive.”
Jons eyes went wide as his heart went back to stopping once more.
It was the sound of footsteps returning in more then one pair which should have caught your attention. But you had tried to push up and off the rocks behind you and failed to find the energy to do so, the first time in hours you had stopped without the heart pounding fear racing through you at what may come the second you would've let your guard down. Your eyes had been toying with shutting for merely a few moments but you knew falling asleep out here alone was dangerous.
But Benjen had told you to stay put no matter how much you had wanted to follow, but he had seen right through your desperate attempts to pretend you were not in a significant amount of pain. You could hardly even recall that only hours ago, bringing the baby into this world had brought so much pain and blood you had not even sensed anything around you in the moments it was over. That felt so long ago, but yet it was the same night, somehow.
It was all heavy in your lightheaded mind, and until the feeling of fur brushing up against your front drew your attention you hadn't even noticed anything coming back. Looking up with a startle, your hands ran over the eager Ghost, not registering anything else beyond the fog in your mind. He tried looking back in the direction he and Benjen left in, but you only narrowed your eyes in confusion, meekly asking “What?”
But Ghost did not respond, it was a voice. A voice yelling your name in a desperation that had a sting behind your eyes water in seconds, one that you didn't know you'd want to collapse hearing again after so many long hours. Trying to respond but in truth you had just felt so tired you could barley find it in you to stand again on two feet.
Jon though, saw you before you registered his figure approaching with Benjen from the darkness, your name coming from him once more as he cared of nothing but running to you. You made it perhaps a few steps before Jon had taken it upon himself to close the remaining gap. Pulling you tightly into him the very moment he could grab you, as your arms wrapped tightly around him.
Whatever withholding of tears you had before, fell freely down your cheeks as he gripped you with all his might. One hand wrapped around your waist tightly and the other raking through your hair before cupping the back of your head to hide you in his neck and thick curls, his own face seeking what he could reach of the same hair he held urgently at. Murmuring a gentle whisper to him, “I'm so sorry..”
Jon only shook his head no. Whispering little more then a strained, “Don't.” Before neither of you had the words to continue. The one moment of peace you had was almost taken away from you both for good, but in truth after six months never leaving the others side, being apart five or six hours felt like a torturous eternity when more then your life was at stake.
Pulling back enough Jon reached up to cup your cheeks, pulling you close again to press a kiss to your forehead before resting his own against it. Your hands reaching up to seek out the toying idea of staying close and wrapping around the back of his neck. Both your eyes closed, but Jon did a far better job at keeping his emotions at bay then the tears free on you.
Only the moment it hit you trying to pull back to seek his eyes, you knew that truth was out and he knew you were crying. But your urgency almost cracked your strained voice, hands sliding down to his chest realizing nothing but a few things, and Longclaw was with him. “Wheres-”
Shushing you for only a moment before pressing another kiss to your forehead he murmured against it, “He's alright, darling. He needs you, but he's alright.”
Nodding, you couldn't help that feeling floating in your chest, the weighting sensation looking at him as if even despite the night and world around you, part of you felt warm and whole being back in his arms. In another life perhaps you'd consider such devotion weak or pathetic, but it was nothing but the truth that you felt lost without him anymore. Hardly able to speak above a weak muttering, “You brought him all this way just to find me?” Jon looked confused as if he'd ever consider not doing that but you let out a weak laugh almost too close to a bit of an overwhelmed sob. “One night and you're already a better father then I could ever be a mother.”
Shaking his head again, Jon pulled you back into him which you held back just as needing. Murmuring deep in your ear, “None of this was your fault, this doesn't reflect on you at all.” Sensing your doubt, Jon kissed the side of you head and then down lower to just under the ear he spoke into gently. “Come see how much our son needs you, and you'll understand.” Both of your hearts skipped a beat at hearing Jon so easily calling the baby our son.
Nodding, Jon looked you over as he held you by your upper arms. You had no idea what you looked like but probably an utter mess. Narrowing his eyes he asked, “What did they do to you?” You shook your head, not knowing the words again as the exhausted fog returned a bit.
Benjen however stepped up close with a hand running over Ghosts fur to answer for you. “On top of everything else, she's had a few rough falls, and one of Euron Greyjoys bastards beat her pretty rough before she put him down.” But while he said it with a bit of a proud tone, Jons expression fell even more looking at you with a look, if you didn't know him far better, one might have said was disapproving instead of a sheer worry.
Running his hand down the hair at the side of your face, you wished you had far less blood of various nature staining you to have a reason to seek his soft lips out of comfort for you and him both. Jon thought for only a moment before crouching down to scoop you up in his arms. Seeking out his shoulders and neck to steady yourself despite Jon having no hint of waver.
He always held an unusual degree of strength, and even now he held you in his arms as if you weighed not an ounce. Pulling you close to him, Jon struggled to take his beautiful grey eyes off of you almost still in despair as if you'd leave him again if he looked away. Benjen breaking the heavy air easily however, not being phased despite what you knew was a worry in the back of Jons head about it. “So she lets you carry her.”
Jon smirked at his uncle's playful tone about you, not looking from you just yet still muttering, “That's because she knows there's no arguing with me about this.” Only a tilt of your head to agree, Jon gently shifted you in his hold to keep you even closer, turning back to the darkness they had come from. Ghost close on one side of him, and Benjen following at the other he addressed him, seemingly sensing your drifting exhaustion. “We'll make camp where the others are now until morning. I need to get her home, but she needs to rest first.”
Trying to mutter a protest, Jon only shushed you gently tilting you into him so you could rest your head more against his shoulders front, and you dropped the topic for now.
The exhaustion was piling up in your mind, everything that happened in such a short amount of time that it felt as if not a single break was to be found for you two. It never ended, always something coming to interrupt any peace like an eternal test of strength. Making your way all up to where Jon had come from the direction of, your eyes tried to stay fully open at the peaking sound of voices muffled in the distance.
A fire lit by a small clearing near an edge, there were four figures you could make out. One a growing familiar look, the size of a large direwolf you recognized as Summer. Two you didn't know, one short with brown curls toying with the heads of arrows as if she had previous braced herself for whomever may be approaching. The other was taller. Older then you and Jon as well with something stiff and apprehensive as she looked at you. Straightening up from where she sat separate from the rest and seemingly withholding any words from something you weren't aware enough to catch onto.
But it was the third which had your senses awaken suddenly. There was no possible way this was the same boy you had said goodbye to in Winterfell as you and the North left for war. He looked more like a man now, but yet the way his eyes lit up as you both saw one another it was still the same boy you knew Bran last to be. Calling your name with something enthusiastic but heavy behind it.
Shifting in Jons hold, he murmured your name to take it easy but as soon as he came close enough you took him by surprise and nearly jumped from his hold. Despite the pain shooting through your legs and upwards as your feet landed onto the snowy ground you needn't limp much further before dropping to your knees to meet Bran at his eyeline.
An easy smile fell upon your face with almost a breath of a laugh to follow, cupping both sides of his face as if to spot the differences between the years and yet still seeing the same boy you left. Shaking your head at him as he found it in himself to speak quiet and full of a weight meaning more then what was being said. “Is it too late to say I'm sorry?”
Shaking your head, the smile had yet to leave as you carefully pulled him to you in a gentle hug. Muttering to him gently without any semblance of awareness you displayed any hypocrisy considering the things Jon struggled to convince you of. “You have nothing to apologize for, Bran. You didn't choose this, it isn't your fault.” Trying to protest you whispered you would speak on it later.
A held back guilt sat on his face but your attention was drawn away at the sound coming from the bundle in his lap. Looking down, there he was. Smaller then he should've been, eyes wide as he looked up at you and for a brief moment you felt your heart skip a beat.
You had so little time with him, you had almost already forgotten what he looked like. But in the seconds you worried he had forgotten you already, did he suddenly become far more upset being in Brans lap as forcing his little arms from the material keeping him warm to reach up to you.
Jons warm figure joined you kneeling behind with a hand running smoothly over your back to grasp gently at the back of your neck, looking over your shoulder. It was the most upset the baby had been since the early moments he was born, but carefully you picked him up. The crying loud but you hardly heard it.
Ever so gently you brought him up to your upper torso as Jon prompted you to stand up and move you to give a moment he knew you'd need. No one else's eyes mattered as they watched as you now facing more away from them pulled back to look at him. Bright green eyes watering still as you gently cupped the back of his head to press a kiss to the top of him. A murmur of babbles coming out in the difficult trailing of a baby who didn't understand why it took his mother so long to come back.
Jon pulled you ever so carefully into his side a bit more as he let his own free hand run along the back of the furs hiding the baby firmly enough he might be able to feel it. Internally you felt grateful he had guided you to have a moment alone, knowing tears were free falling down your cheeks as you whispered only loud enough for the baby and Jon right at your side to hear, as you muttered into another kiss to the babys head. His tiny hands reaching up to you and grasping what he could of your hair as the proximity soothed him far more then he had been in hours.
“I'm sorry it took me so long.” Eyes slipping closed you kept him as close as you could without smothering the poor thing. A gentle murmur not hinting to the twisting in your heart at how close the three of you came to losing each other. “You protected your father for me, right?” You could feel Jon smiling into him pressing his lips to your hair as you did to the baby.
Rasping low for you only, Jons hand at your neck let his thumb run back and forth over the skin he could reach. “We protect each other.” Muttering that you hadn't done a very good job at that, Jons brows furrowed as he sighed deeply against you. “You fought to get back to me as much I did you. That's more then I would ever ask of you.”
The baby settling into something calm as he now had both of you with him, pulling him up into your collarbones and neck more to keep him steady as you willed your own heart to even out as well.
Approaching gently, the only one who had not met him yet, Jon murmured your name as he braced you to turn around, giving you the chance to try and hide the tears just having fallen. Jon with a gentle smile the whole time at how even here and now, you tried to be so put together. But yet, unfelt by you as his uncle approached did a nervousness return.
Filling Jon with a fear threatening to make his tense muscles shake with an anxiety of what he would say or think. He doubted Benjen would say anything to your face, but he feared what was coming for him once no doubt the only ones left awake were the two of them. For now, he tried to steel his own gaze keeping you close as if a crutch.
Looking down though a brightness fulled the mans gaze. “Was starting to think I wouldn't live to ever meet any great niece or nephew of mine.” Only looking for half a moment for permission as you nodded without hesitation. Benjen raising his hand up to pull the fabric hiding the babys face more as you shifted to holding him more laying down in your arms to be seen. A finger tracing his skin gently of the hand still loose as it to playfully toy with him. “What's his name?”
For everything Jon had done to ensure he saved the process for when you were back with him, so ensure you decided together, Jon knew he had utterly failed at his own resolve the second he answered without even thinking of it for a passing beat. “Eddard.”
While Benjen smiled looking back down to him, once more as if being around the Starks brought a calm to the baby that none else could provide. You looked up to find Jons eyes, and yet the guilt in his begging to say something he wouldn't in front of others, you only met with a watering brightness. You hadn't even done that, seek a name for your son together, and it was clear Jon had been for hours.
Knowing no offence was meant, Benjen asked only for a curiosities clarification if his last name was intended to be Stark, and you took every chance of insecurity from Jon to let that though fester once more as you answered with a quiet confidence. “No. His father is a Snow, and so he is too.” But you only smiled down at the bundle, as Jon looked roughly at you.
Not in front of all these people, but you hadn't wanted Jon to think for a moment you reconsidered what you had said that day on the beach of Dragonstone. Jon was a Snow, you were now too and so was your son, and you would refuse to allow any shame to come with that. Jon hadn't needed to be named Stark to be one, and so why would his own son?
Inhaling shakily, Jon moved to pull you a little closer into him to speak low in your ear without sacrificing his gaze on you and the baby. “Do you think you're up to-”
Only you practically read Jons mind. Nodding as you once again shifted your hold on him, bringing him up higher on your torso to again keep from the cold air. Without a doubt you looked back to Jon, “I don't know if it will be a while, should we wait until we find a place to-”
“We're stopping right here. You two need to rest.” Not a shake he did, but a tiny jostle as if to put emphasis on the worst rest. Guiding you closer to the fire, Jon guided you to rest instead right where the others sat, but a bit off to the side against a thick tree trunk. Hands on you even as he crouched down before you, going to gently move your layers without a thought. “Let me.”
The moment bare skin was exposed chillingly to the cold night, Jon shifted the unknown cloak around your shoulders to move to shied you from the cold, only to not move until he could see with a certainty the baby had latched on to feed from your breast, and covering the remainder of you exposed from the cold mostly. Not leaving, Jon sat both somewhat behind and next to you as his hand returned to your neck, fingertips toying with the loose strands as his other hand rested firmly against your upper arm keeping you pulled you more back to lean against him.
Keeping you as warm and comfortable as needed, just as you ensured the baby was warm and comfortable as he needed. You both knew the others were trying not to make you all their business, as Ghost and Summer at the least had the decency to keep to themselves. Both wolves laying side by side near the fire to Jons left.
Bran, Meera, Benjen and Yara were close enough with their own seats surrounding the fire as well, but the chatter amongst them was quiet as if not wanting to disrupt the three of you. Meera had been a simple introduction, little more then a nod as she respected your state as little ability to give to them you had. When trying to ask who Yara was, Jon had interjected after she gave her first name, prying your attention away from them saying she was helping them and you'd all talk about it later.
No one objected, and perhaps if you were not as weak as you were you'd have picked up on it the silent way in which Benjen had, the tension. But mostly, your focus was tied between little Eddard or Jon. Voice a strained whisper between only the two of you, your mind had distinctly wandered in the silence, returning in the middle of a conversation Jon was not having with you. “It never struck me as strange until now, how so many noble women choose to let other people handle it.” Jon humming a question at you, nudging your head with his a little to indicate more he was listening. “Feeding their own child, so many I know leave it to the wet nurses instead.”
What was strange for Jon, was realizing how little he had considered certain things. So focused for months on getting you home to have the baby safe there and little thought to what came after. Wet nurses were a normal staple of the homes of highborn families with infants, including when it had been his own siblings. Trading off the responsibility between mother and wet nurse but it was as he sat there in the dark illuminated only by firelight did he think about it seriously.
Rasping lowly, Jons hands had fallen at some point down to your waist, now shifting up to cover one of your hands gently with his. “Maybe they consider it disruptive to their lives doing it so often. How long have we been here already?” The better part of half an hour it was, but still, you bit your tongue considering the thought.
The image of passing your own baby off to another woman to do it for you, so you could what? What else did you wish to be doing instead? Nothing was wrong with it, yourself and Shireen weren't fed from your own mother as she was too ill after giving birth both times. Perhaps it was that you were still accepting that you had been ripped away from him so suddenly, just as Jons own mother was ripped away from him too.
Murmuring in your ear Jon brought your mind back to the present, “Whats on your mind?”
Looking to meet his eyes, wide and grey as perfect as you always adored them you couldn't decide what it was you really had intended to say. It was a mix in your mind of too much, but what came out was none which you had initially looked to him with. It was gentle and curious, your ask. “When did you name him?”
Except, Jon tensed. Jaw clenching a bit as his expression frowned more into something troubled as he suddenly wouldn't return your gaze. Looking now only at the baby. Rough and low he was forcing the words out slowly, as if he was putting a careful response together as he went. “I wanted to hold off until I found you. Name him with you the way we were supposed to. Everyone kept asking his name but it felt wrong without you there.”
Turning ever so slowly by a fraction to see him better, your voice was none of the judgment he had placed on himself. “It's alright you did it without me, he's your son too, Jon.”
Brows furrowing, your heart dropped a little when Jon had begun speaking. Glancing to the now not watching group before murmuring even more quiet as he pulled you both more into his side to speak into your ear gently. “My mother never named me. She knew she was going to die, but she didn't know when. Didn't know what would have happened to me when she was gone, so she didn't want to give me a name only to have it taken away from me.” One hand slunk back up to rake through your hair, almost to ground himself with something soft on you as he continued to not look at you. “I didn't want to lose you the way I lost her, if I didn't name him maybe it meant we had to get you back because I wasn't supposed to repeat my past with my son.”
A birth mother lost, and the man now taking up mantle as father forced to travel alone with a nameless infant themselves trying to come up with something the infants mother wouldn't have hated. You wondered if you had been gone, if somehow he survived the week long trek to the Wall would Jon have named him all the same. “You didn't name him without me, you named him after you got me back.”
It was quiet, and it tinged in your mind that was not the only thing on Jons hesitant mind but he had to come to that conclusion of admission on his own. You wouldn't rush him. His hand on your hair moved to the other side of your head opposite to him. Resting what he could reach by your cheek, Jon tilted your head towards him enough he could partially rest his forehead against yours.
There was very little point in hiding his affection now in front of these people all the way out here. His thumb staying put so he could run it over the skin from where he had taken the time to clean away the blood staining your face, now soft and untarnished.
“You told me you and Robb were going to name your son after him. I never wanted you to think I was replacing any of what you had with him, then without asking I call our own son the name you were going to your first with Robb.” Once more your heart sunk into your chest, this was the worry? Everything you both had been through and still you both found ways to pit yourselves up against the only other person in their life of such a manner.
When Jon peeled his eyes up to look, he found nothing but the same adoration you had always given him and it was just as true. You had your time with your son, short and it was taken from both of you but you still had that short time together. You could not force yourself to stay in the past where too much would haunt you to move on from. Eddard was more then just the name for an unborn child, it was a name that meant something to you, a man who meant something to Robb.
But that still hadn't changed. He did still mean something to you, and now the only difference was the Stark you were naming him with was Jon. Long difficult months you had spent once reuniting with Jon to let go of the burden of losing your first unborn child. But you were here now, with a son you and Jon created together and that was the son you needed to give that every chance Jon didn't think he'd ever be able to provide a child before.
“My first never had the chance to even be born, and your father never had a chance to meet him or ours now.” Closing your eyes, you leaned up to gently nudge his nose with yours. “Now our son can carry the memory of his brother and grandfather in his name forever.”
Silence was all he had, cupping the back of your head, Jon was gentle in how he tilted your head enough to leave a chaste kiss to your lips. Little energy in you, but it was all he needed, the softness between you before he tore his lips apart from you, pressing another to your forehead. Sighing deeply through his nose, Jon contemplated likely what he was even thinking.
But what was there to argue? You hadn't even protested when he said it then, why would you now?
Whispering to him once more, you returned to watching your son gently. “Besides, your name is still the same one your father gave you. Meaning, it's fitting your own sons name stays the one his father gave him.”
Neither of you said a word as he held you, by the time an hour had passed between you three, you could finally see your son settle the most Jon had seen in hours. Doing the work for you to cover you back up properly, before muttering he was going to get you something. You moving the baby back to lay comfortably back in your arms where he could be seen easily, small babbles coming from him as your hand shifted up. Toying with his loose hands as if tickling him but teasing him from being able to grab at you.
Truly, you had not even realized the wide grin and bright way you beamed at him so freely more then some like Bran had ever seen on your expression. Sitting back to your side, Jon nudged your arm to draw your attention to the skin of water in his hands. “Let me take him.”
The baby looked so natural being held in Jons hands, holding him carefully as if every instinct for a father had always existed deep within his blood. Tugging at the fabrics covering him heavily without even thinking, navigating around little Eddard’s waving arms towards him before tucking them away too. His hand now bare, letting his thumb run gentle over his cheek as you drank down far more water in one go then was at all proper.
Letting your head fall against the bark behind you and hand drop with a thud to the ground, your eyes felt heavy as did matching your muscles. Closer and closer you crept as the world around you blurred and muffled, eyes fluttering trying to stay with them all as if the world would slip away from you for good once more. When the world near you fell to the wayside of sleep you did not yet know.
The only thing you recalled, was a comforting warmth rasping in your ear as the air around you felt like it was moving, and just maybe the gentle press of lips and something raking through your hair. Wherever you slipped away too, was nothing but comfort after hours of a hell.
The crackling of a fire was all which was heard for quite a while. Morning would come soon, whatever rest could be found was needed desperately. The fire was where all had crowded around as much as they could, Bran and Meera both looking as if they hadn't had a chance to truly sleep in days now utterly non existent to the world. Somewhat further, Yara was more on her own and sleeping faced away from the rest of them. Not that Jon blamed her.
Everything she had once thought now gone or changed in a manner of hours and a future she had not a clue how to approach, or what awaited her. Quiet on the matter of what happened when the Others came, likely needing time to process the strangeness of it all. What he was going to do with her, not even he yet knew that. Until he got everyone south of the Wall, he wouldn't bother figuring that out.
Jon suspected a few times he had drifted in and out, not quite sleep but dozing off for perhaps minutes at the most at a time. But otherwise his eyes remained firmly open and switching between three things. Beside him, cradled and hidden from the world as much as they could was his son finally sleeping. The first proper chance he had gotten since the short hour after he had been born, and Jon would glance over to him trying to hide a smile. Debating who he looked more like asleep like that, himself or you.
But he could see the faint traces of black hair against his head, and could say at least his son took after him in that way. Yet, something else was a persistent thought that made his stomach churn a little. Dark brown or black, grey or green, those things didn't matter. They were simply small things for you and Jon to watch and playfully tease what he inherited from whom.
However, he knew in his head, he could not fathom what a similar position his own father felt. Eddard Stark carried him all the way home, hiding and lying about who he was to ensure no one could ever guess the horror and blood and violence which led to his birth. Taking up the mantle of a father, naming the son he took in as his own after a man who was a similar father figure to him. But Jon sat there knowing there was no fear in what his son would've looked like.
He couldn't say the same about his father though. How often on that journey home did his father watch Jon and feel terrified that one day something would change. Strands of silver growing in amongst the black, or he would wake up one day and Ned would find purple staring back up from his eyes instead of grey. The gods had watched over his father, Jon knew. By making his every feature look as Stark as one could get, it was as if they themselves were trying to shield the truth from the world too. What would his father have done were Jon to have looked so undeniably like the rest of them?
He rarely thought about it, the only Targaryeans he ever met. Maester Aemon was hardly a point of comparison. Hair white from old age and the colours of his eyes a milk white behind the fog which blinded them, none ever looked and suspected anything else. He has long given up the name he was born into proper. Even when Jon had learned the truth he had muttered in a shocked disbelief that he was Aemon Targaryean, but all he had said in return?
“I'm a maester of the citadel. Bound in service to Castle Black and the Night's Watch.”
But the other was no easier to consider. The entire time they had been on the island of Dragonstone at the same time, Aegons hair was dyed blue. You had commented it was likely to hide the silver, but also noted that it may have also been a distraction from his eyes. Since you noted sometimes you couldn't tell if they were blue or violet. So there went that comparison either. And even in face, neither he nor Aegon the entire time had ever looked to the other and thought they saw similarities.
Princess Rhaenys was said to look just like her mother Elia, and it seemed Jon was the same. Everything he looked, he got from Lyanna. The more he let himself think about it the more strange it all felt. Prince Rhaegar had torn the Seven Kingdoms apart to bring Jon into the world, but his existence was just as much a means to an end as Lyannas to him.
Everything he ruined to bring Jon into the world, and this was where it all led. The child he died to create was beyond the Wall with a Stark blooded son of his own looking like the perfect mix of mother and father, and the mother in question being Robert Baratheons niece of all people. Jon glanced down, a fur covering you as much as he could manage as he previously laid your slumbering self out beside him, your head in his lap as his hands raked gently through your hair over and over.
You had fallen asleep before he had a chance to convince you to eat something, but he would worry about it later. You needed what little rest as you could manage until he could get you home. But the sounds of footsteps approaching had Jons touch pause, his body stiffen as he braced himself for what was coming.
Benjen coming to sit closer next to him, he was quiet for a moment as Jons hand returned to it's previous action, almost as if forcing himself to appear calmer then his racing heart would tell otherwise. It was the way though that Benjen approached the subject that was odd, the words in writing would be nothing but judgment but the light tone his uncle spoke with were far more teasing sounding, leaving Jon feeling on edge as he was now confused. “So tell me, did you understand a single word you said when you swore your vow?”
His eyes finally completed where he kept looking, into the fire as if to wish it would show him a way out of this conversation. Not much of an answer, but Jon sort of let it come out in a grumble as he continued to not look at his uncle. “It isn't that simple.”
Still the words were unfavourable but the tone was not. “Jon if breaking a vow was always simple, then most of the brothers would do it.”
Just as Jon felt the day he stood before Ser Alliser and told the truth in the only way the man would care, Jon knew his uncle would take it differently. Yet Jon tried to talk around it anyways. “It didn't start with her.” His eyes flickering down to you as if to emphasize who. But then he kept watching, as if your peaceful gaze was his only grounding once more. “Mance Rayder had gathered the free folk, all ninety clans together and was going to march onto Castle Black with them.” He wasn't sure how much Benjen already knew, and once more kept it simple as he could.
Continuing, still voice rough and low with his muscles tense. “One hundred thousand against two hundred. Qhorin Halfhand believed that the only way to stop Mance was to get a man inside his army.” If he judged Benjen's silence, he at least thankfully assumed he knew where this story was going. “We got captured by scouts, and he forced me to kill him to gain their trust.”
Jon could still feel it, plunging it through his chest and the resolute way the Halfhand looked at him with every trust that Jon could do this. He hated that his body was burned then and there by Rattleshirt, he deserved to be brought back to the Wall and burned in a proper goodbye with his brothers. But Jon was being honest and he kept going, no matter how much his uncle was about to look down on him for it.
“I managed to convince Mance I wasn't a spy, but that wasn't enough for them. They wanted me to prove I was willing to go against all my vows for their cause.” Say it, he thought. Just say it the way he said it to Ser Alliser. He could talk about it to you, you understood. But saying the whole truth to his uncle didn't feel good, like he'd only be looked down once more for being weak. “So they had me chase Ghost away so I could lay with a wildling girl.”
Benjen said nothing, and the silence made Jon feel as if he were choking on it. Looking down at you, he had to remind himself that part of his life was long gone. He wanted to stop going back to it and feeling ill and dirty all over again, but he kept doing it as if he wanted to burden himself with that self hatred one more. By the time his uncle said anything, he could tell his words were carefully chosen.
Not looking at one another, it wasn't a stern talking down which came from him like Ser Alliser before. “If it makes you feel any better, you aren't the first ranger to sleep with a wildling. Just the first to ever be honest and admit it.” Jon let it mutter through a clenched jaw so tight it threatened to snap without thinking.
“It wasn't my choice.”
But Benjen surprised him. “I know.” He looked at Jon, who didn't look back. “I've known you your whole life, Jon. You're not the man to break your vows because some girl you barley know said the right words once. They see it differently then us. Some of them steal their partners from their beds in the middle of the night, they don't exactly operate within the same rules as we do.”
The more Jon let his fingers sift through your hair, the more its long length and softness could ground Jon into not letting such heart pounding nerves return to haunt him, as long as he could feel something of you brushing his bare hands. “We climbed the Wall so they could attack Castle Black from the south, while Mance hit it from the North. Ended up hunting down one of the farmers breeding horses for the Watch, so he wouldn't tell the others they were there. And they wanted me to do it, to prove myself all over again that I wanted to be one of them. As if killing the Halfhand wasn't enough.”
Nothing felt better on Jons heart then the very quick realization that Benjen was no fool who would presume the worst of Jon, as so many had about all of it. “And that was the last straw for you.” Jon only nodded. “You killed the Halfhand because he told you to do it, you lay with one of them because they would've killed you otherwise. But I know asking you to take a completely innocent life without any reason is too far. If they wanted you to be willing to do that, they should've gotten to you before my brother raised you your whole life.”
Only a small smirk came over Jon for a brief second. But it fell away just as swift when Jon roughly cleared his throat to get his point across. “What I'm trying to say is, she wasn't the first time I broke my vows.” Gesturing somewhat with a nod down to you. “I broke them long before then. She was just the first time I wanted to break them.”
“I'm not going to be hard on you for it. You're hard enough on yourself. I didn't come over here to lecture you, I came over here to say watching you with her is the first time I've seen you happy in a very long time.” Only agreeing that it was the first he's felt it, both men sat in silence for a while. Only the quiet breaking as Benjen added, “So, are you going to tell me how you got your hands on Longclaw? Or am I supposed to guess why the pommel suddenly looks like Ghost instead of a bear?”
Both of them chuckled, and it seemed for Benjen and Jon both sleep was not to be found that night at the least.
“Are you sure?”
The look Jon gave you would be funny were you not entirely serious. Standing off to the side of the group, Jon had insisted that you carry little Eddard for a while, but clearly a rising of nerves had begun to get the better of you. Still feeling weak and in pain, you didn't know if you should be trusted but Jon was having none of it. Looking at you flatly, Jon begun to adjust the wrappings around your shoulders and arms before he would begin securing the baby. “I had him for hours last night, you're his mother. He needs you too.”
Biting your tongue, you glanced down where you could see him, still sleepy so early in the morning. Not quite realizing you hadn't said anything, something unsure in you now that your own sleep had cleared much of the horror of yesterday. Now what was left, was far more anxiety then what you had been so confident of before. Murmuring your name, you hummed but didn't look up to meet his gaze.
Repeating, Jon that time tilted your head to properly look at him. “What?”
Brows furrowing, you hoped it was not pity which was the thing Jon looked at you with. His voice low for you alone as his hands now ran firmly down your arms. “There's nothing to be worried about. As long as he has you, everything will be alright. We can get him, and you home.”
How would you explain the feeling in your gut? How could you say it without making it sound like pettiness or jealousy when the feeling within you was neither. Too many people around to explain regardless and for almost a week would you still not have any true moments alone. Perhaps though, it would give you time to find a way to say it to him without sounding like you meant it in a harsh manner.
Subtlety and flowery language was not a trait Baratheons were known for, after all.
Once more you couldn't help but notice he was so natural with him. Not a shred of doubt or uncertainty the way Jon handled his son and yet you only felt your heart begin to pick up speed a little as he came back to you. Ensuring he was wrapped and strapped up to your chest warm and secure, Jon muttered a little to him as he worked. “There we go, get to see your mothers beautiful face instead of mine finally.”
Your voice low and not particularly strong as you murmured, “I'm sure he loves being with you just as much.” Truly it wasn't meant to come out, but you hadn't quite noticed your faint whisper was obviously picked up by the keen eared wolf in front of you. “Or far more.”
Not noticing his grey eyes flying up to watch you with a squint, before running a hand over the top of the babys head. Moving the same one to cup the back of yours, pulling you to meet his lips to your forehead as he spoke against it in the last of your small moments together alone. “Tell me if you need to stop for anything.” Asking for what, he clarified, pulling back without moving his hold on you. “If you're in pain, too tired, or need me to help you with him. Pushing you with this much physical exertion can't be good for you right now.”
Your eyes drifted to the snow just off to his left as you allowed that one to come out. “Big word there, Snow.”
Only chuckling deeply, Jon leaned forward with eyes narrowed playfully. “I have a smart wife, been picking up on a few things.”
“Oh? You plan on introducing me to her anytime soon?”
That one got Jon to roll his eyes. Looking down to run a knuckle gently along little Eddard's head muttering low and exaggeratedly flat. “Going to have to teach you how to talk as soon as possible. It might start taking both of us to convince your mother I'm not making up things about her when I give her compliments.”
It all felt a little more normal, the teasing banter playful and not ever meant to be rude or putting down, you could forgive the feeling in your gut still begging to grow with panicked uncertainty. But it would not, or could not, last for long.
Not recognizing a lot of the path thus far, you could hear slightly ahead of you Jon and Benjen discussing taking a route straight to Castle Black rather then the longer one they knew. Both commenting that since the free folk were south of the Wall, it made that idea far easier then it would've been years ago. Still you did not know anything much about Yara other then she was Ironborn and that she had Jons assurance that at least for this journey, she could be trusted. Having not at all put together the signs in your head yet, but she seemed to look back to you with a glance far more knowing then you did her. But, your mind struggled to read what it meant.
You couldn't imagine the things Bran and Meera had seen, the way they talked they had clearly travelled together for years but every now and again you would catch the way she'd try not to watch Bran and Jon interact. Howland Reed and Sam had said both his children were with Bran, but here was only her. Hodor was not with them either. You dared not think of what led them away from where they went and urgently to find you with the knowledge of Euron Greyjoy.
That one still baffled you. You were clearly missing something because none of who you two were should connect. Your own father had destroyed his fleet during their rebellion. But one foot in front of the other you walked, mind never truly present for any discussion around you.
Summer and Ghost both walked their own paths around, always following and keeping up but enjoying the freedom to walk out here in the far North this way together.
More then once you almost found yourself completely in the back. Trying to suddenly catch up before any turned to notice your dragging feet or the winces of pain trying to catch up. Little Eddard had no issue sleeping once more. Trying to curl up against you as much as he could from his swaddled state, but in truth you thought, it was only the warmth of fur he was cuddling against. Not you.
You dreaded when he'd wake up properly, and it would be made clear that it was Jon he wanted to hold him. He had travelled with his father in his first hours of life with him all alone, his father protected him and his mother, to him, abandoned him. Did he truly even remember your face when you saw him again, or was it merely a coincidence?
A heavy part of you felt your mind close in on you thinking it was the later. You showed up and you fed him, that didn't mean he wanted you. Far too many times you wanted nothing more then to just reach for him and gently run your hands or tips of your fingers over him because you wanted him close. But the second your hand would twitch at your side, you stopped yourself.
What if you woke him up, and he didn't want you touching him? What if all he'd do is cry out for Jon instead and everyone would see your own baby doesn't want you. Why should he? You birthed him then abandoned him for so long it put his own health at risk. What was wrong with you? What kind of mother does that?
But you remained mostly quiet, under the guise of simply being tired and worn out most accepted your silence as normal. That was fine, you preferred to have everything around you fade away. Disassociate from the world as long as you could hear the baby for whatever he needed, the rest of their conversations turning muffled as if your head was underwater.
The only saviour of the journey thus far, was that the lands you were on already begun to grow easier. The final stretch of land consisting of the Haunted Forest was hardly much of a difficult task, but it did not make such a thing easy for you. But no one else needed to stop, so you wouldn't either. Dispondant was likely the appropriate term for what your state was, eyes not truly focused on anything nor was the world around you even in any consideration. If eyes had been watching you closely, you had not noticed them at all. Where your feet were moving, and the baby. That was all you had to focus on, nothing else needed you for it.
They were all fine without you, and Jon likely was being overly generous in saying it was alright if you needed to stop. It wasn't. None of this was about you, you had no right to derail everyone else for your personal struggles. The pain was a little less the more the morning passed, the bleeding was worse.
You could handle it, you knew it was normal, but still something darker festered in your mind and refused to go away. You hadn't even wanted to think about little Eddard not wanting you, you did not what so ever want to think about Jon not wanting you, but it was there. The fear desperate to knock at the doors of your heart and whisper its poison into your veins.
You were weak, a mess, bleeding, you were nowhere near the smallest and thinnest you had been when escaping the Boltons. You hadn't gained as much weight as you knew you should've out here, but still it was not as if you returned right to your smallest. More it spiralled, the longer you let yourself walk further away from the group in pace, the more you spiralled into something that made your eyes wish to sting.
He couldn't even do anything he enjoyed for weeks you knew. How were you supposed to please him on what little you could do right now? You wondered with an ill in your throat, if this was why many men you knew took mistresses. Their wives after birthing a child not able to please them the way they wanted, so they'd naturally seek it elsewhere.
It had been almost an hour since you even looked at Jon. You didn't want to look and see the potential of disappointment or displeasure towards your state in his eyes. Maybe if he did look elsewhere for someone to take to bed, you shouldn't blame him for it. He could find anyone, he was unfairly handsome and he was King in the North. He could have whatever small, beautiful woman he wanted to please him instead.
Not a thing about you appealed to him now, you knew it.
You hadn't said a single word when you otherwise did need to stop. Not wanting to get in their way, you stopped silently alone. Trying to adjust things on your own when a certain direwolf appeared. Muttering to him just as you managed to secure the baby properly, “Go on, Ghost. It's fine I'll catch up.”
By the time your feet begun to try and rejoin the group while carefully ensuring little Eddard was secure and undisturbed, Ghost had managed to make his way up to Jon with a little whine that you did not at all realize, was the direwolf telling on you for not saying anything. As his warmth suddenly came close with a more serious call of your name, you finally glanced up at him.
Unable to determine what it was he was looking at you like, but he wasn't happy. “What-” A gloved hand running through your hair on your shoulder to gently rest on the side of your neck, his eyes flickered down between you and the baby. “Why didn't you say you needed to stop?”
A shrug was out of the question currently, so you relented with a drift of your eyes to simply watch your feeding son. “It's fine, I handled it.” Protesting, Jon tried to gently prompt you to remember to say something, to not push yourself. “I'm fine, Jon.” If he had not understood what was going on before, your own impulsive insecurity gave him a large one without thinking. “You can have him after, he'll be happier with you.”
Without any hesitation, Jon turned his head to the group. “We'll catch up later, leave us.” And no room for question of a his command it seemed either. Turning to you, Jons hand on your neck grew more firm as he tried to lean down to meet your eyes. “Darling, look at me.” Peeling them up, Jon struggled to read what was going on behind yours as you were his. “What's going on here?”
Why you sad it, you had no idea. “He needs me to be fed, you took care of him perfectly for everything else. It'll be easier if you just keep him until he needs me.”
The eternal problem for you, was that Jon knew you way too well. He knew without a shadow of a doubt, you wanted to be with your son. Keep him close. He had seen you reunite with him, and there was not a shred of a sign between the baby or you that either didn't want to be near the other. You were too, not one to shirk your responsibilities, that was never you nor would it ever. Something else was going on.
Sliding the hand to the back of your neck, his thumb ran across what he could find of you firmly as he silently begged you to look back at him now that you let your gaze drift again. “Darling, you were fine last night-”
“Last night you only needed me for one thing. You two were fine without me.”
Not even you anymore had a clue where what you were saying was coming from and Jon could see that himself. Sighing deeply, his gaze drifted down to the baby as yours did but there was not distance in your gaze. Only sadness. Jon hated that he hadn't gotten you home in time, he didn't know enough to know what was wrong that you didn't know how to identify. “You weren't worried about these things last night. Don't let those thoughts start now, you know they aren't true.”
Tilting your head in a small agreement, Jon shifted. Standing straight to run both hands down your upper arms as you weren't sure if grasping gently at his waist was even a good idea. “I'll tell you if I need to stop next time.”
Sighing, it wasn't what he wanted to hear alone, but the longer you two didn't walk the more the others would know something was wrong, and Jon did not need more attention on you then the darkness in your mind was tricking you into thinking there was. “Good. And you keep holding him, alright?”
He wouldn't budge until your nod came with a verbal agreement. Guiding you forward with a hand gently pressing into your lower back and slowly you two would catch up with the rest just in time for the baby to finish his feeding. Jon taking over to put everything on you back himself, glancing significantly down to the manner in which the baby once more all but snuggled into you, looking up with his wide bright eyes.
He wasn't sure if it sunk in yet for you, but Jon refused to let whatever thoughts were taking over you be the dominant ones. You've suffered enough he knew, he couldn't watch it happen now when he knew you were all so happy to be able to finally have this together.
The next few days this went on, but it wasn't until as Jon was perched alone by the fire one evening did anyone dare broach the subject. “My mother had something like this.” A hum in his frowning expression watching the liquid before him did Yara continue quietly. “After she had my brother, it was as if something changed. She was always upset, hardly could focus on anything. Would have me take care of him for most other things because she was convinced she couldn't take care off him.”
Jon eyes wanted to drift to where he could see you, but focused once more on what was before him instead. “Why?”
He could see from the corner of his eye that Yara shrugged. “The maester said it was normal. That sometimes women are just..sad after they give birth but normally it stops on its own.” Asking if it did for her mother, she almost laughed. “When your husband is Balon Greyjoy, would you get over it quickly?” Jon didn't respond, nor did he assume he was meant to. “She only had me to help. My older brothers were useless, my father didn't do anything, so I had to handle it. But I was a child, I could only do so much.”
Muttering quietly almost unsure if he wanted to speculate. “What are you saying? That I can't help her?”
She certainly must be Theons sister he thought, they dismissed things in the exact same pedantic tone. “Are you a child, Stark? No? Then you probably will be fine. Look at her right now, thinking no ones watching.”
It was so clear what he would see. The smile on you again bright as you shifted the baby in your arms to toy with his quite grabby hands wanting you closer. Nothing but the babble of a baby who was happy in return. Jon had watched you with ease handle all of his younger siblings, and he knew you once had Shireen, it was impossible for him to fathom why you thought you'd not think you were perfect to be a mother.
In his silent contemplation, Yara continued. “Come tomorrow she'll either have forgotten things were this easy or she'll have convinced herself it was a lie. You're her husband, you have to be there to remind her otherwise. Or else she'll only get worse.” Asking what would happen then, Yara was hesitant. Something weighted in her words which Jon understood was not to be asked about. “If she gets worse, eventually one day she won't be herself. And then she'll never get better.”
Turning to look at her with narrowed eyes, Jon asked roughly, “Why do you care?”
Sighing deeply, it was the most honest she'd been since this entire nightmare had begun days ago. “Because you're right. I knew exactly what Euron was and I was going to take her to him anyways. I already know an apology won't mean anything to you, so consider this me trying to at least make up for almost doing something horrible.”
Something was going unsaid though, once more Yara looked at you with something Jon could tell was a guilt so heavy it could threaten to crush you if you let it. Meeting eyes briefly, Yara it seemed could tell the pain was at least recognized if not understood, and with a clearing of her throat she pushed up off her knees and walked away.
Finding another reason to question keeping your hair this long, one wolf now the other it seemed couldn't keep their hands out of it. Loose strands would brush against your sons face and his tiny hands would grab at them with as much a laugh as such a small newborn could muster. Murmuring gently to him as you released the strands once more, “Good to know that is three for three on Stark men who are quite stubborn about always grabbing me someway or another.”
Jons figure approached from the side, easily sitting down close beside you as he rasped out in amusement, “Any man would be with a girl that looks like you.”
Glancing away, the starting of a fluster grew in your cheeks but you exhaled it all out before it could take over. “Flattery won't get you anywhere.”
Leaning more to press his side into yours, Jons head peered a bit over your shoulder to watch you and the baby as he muttered low in your ear. “It got me far enough to put a baby in you.” Eyes growing wide in an instant, you turned to look at him incredulously right as he laughed. Shifting one hand to pull your head close, Jon pressed a kiss to what he could reach of your hair. “Let me take him for while, you need to eat.”
Glancing down, you picked up on his cleverness. Jon choosing the easy route to convince you by making you something liquid and hot. Sighing, you nodded and made the trade. Jon carefully holding the baby in his arms as you took the bowl. Looking to his sitting somewhat in front of him you asked, “What about you?”
Shaking his head, Jon dismissed it. “It's harder for you to eat holding him, and I'm guessing he'll need to be fed again before we put him down for the night. So you eat, then we do.” The routine had been steady as every night before when the baby was not yet in the world.
It felt comforting a little, how even with all these people around, Jon and you still found a way to sit further from people to keep the small little pack you've made to yourselves still. Your heart felt a little bit calmer in that moment, eyes closing as you let the hot liquid warm you as it went down. Plans kept, and as you had the baby once more feeding from your breast, Jon with the freedom to have his own food, it all was smoother then you had recalled during the worst of the day.
Shifting to pull your back into his chest a bit without disrupting anything, Jon held one hand at your waist and the other draped gently along your stomach. The side of his head leaning against yours in the quiet of night falling upon you. Rasping in your ear, “You know I love you, right?”
It took you more then a moment to nod your head, but you had. Whispering back, both of your eyes on your son as you leaned back in his arms. “I love you, I promise.” Jon wanted to tell you that you didn't need to promise such a thing, but the peace between you three told him that right now that would have to be enough. It would take four more days until you all got to Castle Black, and then he still needed to get you back to Winterfell. Jon knew he had to watch you close in that time, it would be the easiest out here to lose you to whatever darkness was brewing in your head, but Jon wouldn't let it take you from him. He had enough of people taking you from him, he wouldn't let it happen again.
By the time you slept, Jon managed to convince himself to do the same. Uncaring for once of the eyes watching, Ghost sleeping on one side of you, Jon kept you pulled close into his chest as he buried his face in your hair. Your hands grasped gently at what you could of the fur against his torso with a sigh as you almost burrowed deeper into his warmth. Slowly he was working on ensuring you felt loved by him no matter what.
Now Jon just needed to find a way to convince you that there was no better mother for your children together then you. He knew it, he just needed you to know it too. The question was simply how.
#jon snow x reader#robb stark x reader#jon snow#robb stark#game of thrones#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf#jon snow x you#robb stark x you#jon snow imagine#robb stark imagine
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
Destroy The Wired.
Joel Miller(Game) x Reader
Notes: Joel is 52 and reader is 30! I’m mainly drawing inspiration from the game, with some show aspects mixed in as well. Joel and Tess have no romantic connection in this story. Reader is a FEDRA(then ex-FEDRA) soldier.
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Violence, Gore, Sexual Content(Eventually)
Part 1 : Outskirts
You were on your usual patrol outside of the city, on the furthest outskirts. The sun was high in the sky as it beamed down, smoldering you in your heavy armor. The letters "FEDRA" were stretched out and faded for the most part on your back, but surprisingly though, it was one of the newer uniforms.
The crunching of leaves and gravel as you walked was almost all you could hear, or have been hearing, for the past hour. Patrol was going undeniably boring. Not one infected in sight. This was, until, you heard gunshots echo through your location from the inner city. Your fingers gripped your rifle just a bit tighter.
"Stragglers in the outside city! A man, a woman, and-", the voice of a female soldier came through your walkie-talkie, but it was quickly cut off. You hadn't dealt with stragglers in months. You didn't get paid enough rations for this shit. You trudged through the abandoned alley, annoyed, then out into the open street of the abandoned city. You look to the direction of the inner city, a FEDRA truck coming down your way. It approached you quickly, coming to a screeching halt.
"Get in. Those fuckers are dangerous. Took out a dozen of us and then some.", one of the soldiers orders you. Sighing, you hop onto the back, holding on as they speed off. It wasn't too long before chaos began.
"Over there!", one of the soldiers calls out, all of them hopping off. It was five of you in total. You were the last one to get off the car, following behind the other FEDRA soldiers. A shootout began as everyone hid behind concrete pillars, though you weren't firing. You could have sworn you heard a child's voice, which for some reason, stopped you from even putting your finger on the trigger.
"The hell are you doing! Wake the fuck-", the solider next to you turns to face you, screaming in your face, but he fell limp as he was shot in the head, his blood splattering on your face. You froze for a moment, but ducked down as much as you could when you snapped out of it, the smell of dirt and iron filling your nose.
"Ellie!", the voice of a woman yells from the other side.
"That's enough!", one solider says. "Stand down or I blow her brains out!" This was a sign you took to come out of hiding. Standing up slowly, rifle aimed to shoot, you saw a couple things. One of the soldiers holding a young girl with his gun to her head, and the other one aiming his gun at a man and a woman.
"Listen, we'll...we'll go in, just don't hurt her.", the woman says with her hands up. You looked in horror as the young girl squirmed, fear on her face as the gun dug into her head.
You always hated FEDRA. The only reason you ever joined was to fulfill your true goal. Kill the leader of the Boston FEDRA QZ, the man who killed your mother. You had been a loyal dog in order to climb the ranks and eventually get close enough to kill him with your bare hands, but having a gun to a child's head was pushing the line. It was a spur of the moment, but you did it before you could think much. You raise your gun, skillfully aiming to shoot both men in their heads, swiftly.
The young girl yelps at the sounds of the gunshots as she is pulled away by the woman. They all turn to you, the man holding up his gun with an angry yet confused expression. You lower your weapon, slinging it around to your back. You think for a moment.
"You let me live, and I can get you out of the city, if that's what you need.", you say quickly, so he wouldn't shoot you on sight.
"Why the hell should I believe you.", the man says. His voice was deep and a bit scratchy.
"Because I just saved your lives. They weren't gonna just bring you guys in. Their plan was to kill all of you." The man squints at me, unsure, but the woman goes up to say something to him quietly. He sighs, nodding.
"Fine. You get us out, and that's it. Deal?"
"Deal."
---
Things had escalated faster than you could have imagined. You ended up saving the man's life this time, who you would come to learn is named Joel, and the woman is Tess. The young girl is Ellie, someone they were trying to smuggle out of the city. You didn't pry, since it wasn't really your business, but now, here you stood with Joel and Ellie, but no Tess. You tried your hardest to keep them all safe, to keep your end of the deal, but damnit you couldn't.
"Yes you are! Look, there's enough here that you have to feel some sort of obligation to me. So you get Ellie to Tommy's. Both of them. She's kept us safe this whole time, so you owe it to her. What happened to me is my own fuck up. I can buy you some time. Just go!"
Those were the last words you heard Tess say when she was going back and forth with Joel, and then there was the explosion. Joel made it clear to the both of you to never bring up Tess, and it broke your heart. There wasn't exactly romance between them, but there was obviously some sort of partnership. Your heart ached for him, as much as you didn't show it.
Eventually the three of you make it to Bill's town, a secured suburban area. Joel made it through the gate, walking cautiously through the town, eventually leading to his old friends house. You scouted the surrounding area as they went inside, even though Joel already did. Just soldier habits.
Ellie's face lit up as she scanned the house, admiring the decor and surprisingly neat interior. You followed behind Joel, mainly because he told you to since he wanted to keep his eye on you at all times. Some time later, Ellie found a letter which Bill had left. You read it from behind Joel as he sat down with it in his hands. His friends are gone too. It hurt you, seeing this man who lost his partner, now his friends. You couldn't imagine what else he'd been through.
"They have a shower!", Ellie calls out from upstairs. You couldn't help but chuckle. Joel smirks, sighing and relaxing back in the chair. You haven't seen this man crack anything even close to a smile since you met him. It suited him, you thought.
"She always that enthusiastic?", you ask him, trying to ease some tension.
"You've got no idea." He sighs, standing up. "This'll be our only chance for a while to shower. Best take advantage of it."
"I will. Thanks." He looks at you for a moment, up and down, furrowing his brows.
"How'd you even become a soldier?"
You blink a couple times, confused at his question.
"Uh, I enrolled?"
"They took you? Sorry, but, you just seem...small."
Oh this dickhead.
"I'm a good shot...I guess." You shrug, looking away, feeling a bit embarrassed under his gaze.
"Yeah, I could see that from earlier.", he says, then walks away to go upstairs, most likely to shower after Ellie was done. Your eyes follow him as he disappears up the stairs, and you thought, maybe this whole thing wasn't going to be so bad after all.
#joel miller#the last of us#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller game#joel miller game x reader#game joel miller#joel miller smut
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
Attack on Titan is a layered, multifaceted story that deals with many, many ideas—prejudice, propaganda, power, love, truth…I could go on. But more than anything, it’s about war. Attack on Titan is a war story. In that sense, it’s no surprise at the number of scenes that utilize fight, either as a concept, action, or just the word itself. It’s a story about fighting.
Or is it?
(It is. But it’s not about the fight. I’ll get there.)
The pivotal moment of the story occurs in season 3, when our characters go from fighting a war they don’t understand to fighting a war they do. The war itself hasn’t changed, nor the world, but now they know what they’re up against. But I’m not here to talk about that pivot—I’m here to talk about the narrative choice that was made a few episodes before that, and the thematic importance of that choice.
I’m here to talk about Midnight Sun.
The choice between Armin and Erwin has long since been a topic of debate amongst AOT fans. Whether it was the right choice, how happy or unhappy it made viewers, why exactly the choice was made, and so on and so forth. I’ve always found it to be a very simple yet effective piece of storytelling—one that walks a very fine line of displaying a core story theme and honoring the characters involved.
Interestingly, Levi, who’s historically a follower and not a leader, is the one to make this very important narrative choice. It was carefully designed, too—everything he’s witnessed so far in this season has led to this moment, and this very important decision he’ll make.
Now of course, as with everything, there’s a Watsonian and a Doylist reason for this decision to bring Armin back and not Erwin. Levi’s role in the choice is primarily a Watsonian one—he was one of the closest characters to Erwin, and he was the one to see Erwin struggle in his last moments before the charge.
Levi outright tells us his thought process after he makes the choice. After Erwin had let go of his dream, his struggle, which was as much a burden to him as a drive to continue forward, Levi thought it cruel to being him back into the world just because humanity needed a devil. It’s a human decision, and Levi made it for someone he cared deeply for.
But from a Doylist perspective, there’s a thematic reason as to why Armin was chosen and not Erwin. Obviously Levi, as a character in the story, is not thinking of what Erwin’s and Armin’s respective dreams are narratively representative of. Levi, in making his choice, didn’t so much as pick Armin as he didn’t pick Erwin. He was letting Erwin go, and he wasn’t thinking about what that would do to the story.
But I am!
Levi has been witness to both Erwin’s and Armin’s dreams, and he’s smart enough to place those dreams within the context of the war they’re fighting.
He asked Erwin explicitly what he would do when his dream was fulfilled—once they got to the basement in Shiganshina and learned the truth of the world. Erwin said he didn’t know.
Conversely, when Armin talked with his friends about after the war, he spoke of the sea. Of exploration beyond the walls, of seeing the wonders he’d only been able to read about. Unlike Erwin, he knew exactly what he would do when the fighting ended.
Now, does this mean to imply Erwin would’ve been useless after reaching the basement? Of course not. Had he survived, he would have continued to lead. But thematically, his purpose in the narrative was to drive the fight forward at any cost. We see this over and over—from the first expedition outside Wall Rose to his last charge against the Beast Titan. That’s what he represents, and that’s what his dream led to.
Armin’s dream, though, extends beyond the fight. He only cares about winning the war in that it will allow him the chance to explore and experience the wonders of the world.
Choosing Armin over Erwin, thematically, represents AOT’s fundamental view on war and fighting. The drive to win is not nearly as important as hope for the future. For after the fight is over.
Armin has always found solace and hope in things other than the war that has defined his and his friends’ lives. He dreams of the ocean. He worships his friends. He lives, as he tells Zeke in the final final final season, for the small moments with them. “Maybe I was born to race Eren and Mikasa up that hill.” That would be enough for him, even without his grand dream of the sea.
I genuinely think this choice is the closest thing AOT has to a thesis statement. This story shows us a plethora of messy situations to which there is no clear-cut solution. It displays a huge range of perspectives and philosophies without telling us what is good and what is bad. (Although it does, very specifically, tell us that genocide is bad, Eren!)
This choice in Midnight Sun, though, is more than a choice between two characters for survival. It speaks to what is most valuable in a world that seems to always be trying to kill you.
What good is winning the war if you don’t have something to hope for beyond that?
In other words, there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for.
#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#armin arlert#erwin smith#aot#snk#mymeta#kylerrambles#midnight sun my beloved#and i could write a whole other essay on levi’s specific and messy relationship with erwin#but this was the particular thing gnawing on my shoe currently#i think this is somewhat echoed in eren’s final choice#what good is the outside world if you’ve trampled it all? you have to look beyond that!#not to mention this theme is communicated without vilifying either erwin or armin#something which fandom has never been able to do when discussing this particular story beat :P#erwin gets a very dignified though tragic death#and the only one who hates armin surviving (besides floch who is. the worst.) is HIMSELF#take notes fandom!#and it’s explicitly echoed in levi’s final monologue in the final season#he does not regret choosing the kid with that bright spark in his eyes#because as well as erwin fit into the cruel world of aot he needed to be released from it#armin will make the cruel world listen. he will make it BETTER.
22 notes
·
View notes
Note
Do you think we'll get an arc of Husk getting free of his deal with Alastor alongside an arc of Angel freeing himself from Valentino? From what little we've seen of their dynamic, Alastor is just as cruel towards him as Valentino is towards Angel, even if the Radio Demon isn't as much of a control freak as the moth overlord. Husk doesn't like to talk about his vulnerabilities any more than Angel does, but I think as Angel starts to let himself be more open about how Val treats, Husk might follow suit. Charlie has proven that she is willing to fight Valentino in Angel's defense when she sees the former merely shove Angel, and I doubt she'd let Husk be treated the same way if she was given more insight into how the grouchy cat is oppressed by Alastor and would try to help give him a way out of his deal.
Hello there, my friend.
I been wanting to ramble about Husk, particularly his relationship with Alastor. I think, I'll restrain myself from doing so for the ask and make a post tomorrow when I *should* have an hour of peace of quiet tomorrow for me to sit in front of the computer and ramble.
I don't think we will get the satisfaction of an "arc"with Husk freedom. I think it would be addressed but not a whole story telling. We may, however, get a glimpse or at least another mention how the deal of Husk soul deal happened.
But most storytelling of a soul getting out of their contract they are bound to will be with Angel. I don't think the show would want to recycle the story arc of soul bound breaking a second time with Husk with a short amount of seasons and would rather focus on a different arc.
If we were pre approve 7 season, I say yes, Husk will be givens a small arc middle to end of series. Like mid season 5 out of 7 we will see him become free and the next seasons we get to see him enjoy his freedom.
If, and unlikely we get the arc of Charlie trying to do away soul contracts for the betterment of Hell, Alastor would be forced to do so. But if that story arc happen, Alastor would be the first to break his contracts, and willingly, of all the overlords. Mainly, as a grand show and gesture of his loyalty and faith in Charlie. Either being sincere or manipulations. I vote mostly sincerity with a hint of manipulation.
Side note: I don't think losing soul contracts would "weaken" the overlords as most of the fandom thinks. From what I gathered, it seems fans think the soul contracts is what gave overlords powers. I do not think that. I think the overlords already own that power. Soul contracts just makes them even more powerful because it A)makes them influential and B) it gives them more resources. For a lame example: Overlord doesn't know have a green thumb and suck at gardening. But they own a soul who does. They can use that resource to solve their problem with no cost to them by having that soul do the work for them. But the overlords power, for example Alastor shadow magic, is directly his own. It power level isn't influenced by how many or little souls he has, it will remain the same regardless. The only real "weakness" of losing their contracts, beside the loss of resource is, they overlords will lose their sense of security. Basically, imagine having an army that cant turn against you because you own their free will. Suddenly, losing that control of free will. Not only did you lose your army to defend with...depending what type of leader you are, they may want to retaliate. You may still be powerful and influential but now a lot more vulnerable and may not be able to defend oneself from so many attacks if they wise enough to fight in a large number. So, the overlords are still formidable and still have their powers that made them powerful and intimidating. Alastor sheer raw magical power and evadablity, Zeezi intimidating stature and raw physical strength (assumed), Carmilla's monopoly of large storage of angelitic steel that kills permanently. Etc. They just don't have soldiers that force to come to their contractor aid and defense.
If we do get a decent amount of season, and the most likely not get the soul contracts being in process of being abolished arc. I think it would be at least strongly suggested/ implored to Alastor by Charlie (and along with Veggie and Lucifer in tow) that Alastor to break his contracts with Husk and Nifty. I think, if this were to happen. Alastor is near cornered how the suggestion been presented. Worded in a way (either unintentionally from Charlie, or purposely by Lucifer or Vaggie) that if he didnt do this, that his hidden agenda would be uncovered by them if he did not following through the act. He nearly obligated to fulfill the request to either continue his manipulation he needs to do to reach his goal or otherwise all the work he put in to this point is lost. (Mostly the near unshakable trust he gained). He fulfills the request in a grand show of how willing he is to do so and how unbothered he is by it. In reality, Alastor is probably seething privately and Husk knows this, to the point he addressed Alastor privately to rub it in smugly.
If it went with this angle, I don't think Charlie pushing the subject with Alastor is not by Husk prompting. I think Charlie will still be kept in the dark how quick can turn against his soulbound servants. One reason why Alastor favors Husk so much as a servant is because of Husk silence. Charlie approach Alastor is by her own convictions and beliefs. Which is why Alastor has to give up his contracts. If he didn't follow through with her believes, it goes along with dream of the hotel. He needs that fuel to keep the fire going as he stings her along to fulfill his goal. His goal, I assume his freedom is a lot more valuable to Alastor then keeping Husk tied down to him. So, even if Husk is one of Alastors greatest resource, Alastor will sacrifice Husk contract for Alastor to get his own. It's a gamble Alastor has to take and hoped he get the greater payout. One of those, lose the battle but win the war scenario.
The other likely option and the most action pack and drama filled, is Husk saved Alastor or something very close to it (save someone he cared about, Nifty, Charlie?) When Alastor was unable to do so himself and Husk did it on his own accord/not forced to) If they did this option I would think it show more of Husk character.
But overall I think if they did a Husk freedom arc, I think it be a slight arc to test Husk character. It be a dark temptation for Husk part. I personally don't think Husk wants Alastor dead for Husk to get his soul back. But I think, that Husk sometimes feels that would be the only option to get it to happen. So, I think it be delicious arc if we have a character, either the Vees, or a new threat, seeked Husk to collaborate for Alastor demised. Husk would get his soul back if that were to happen was their sale pitch. Husk was seeked out purposely after the antagonist receive information that Alastor had a particular bad day and Husk had poor timing again (like in Dad beat Dad) that Alastor took his irritation on Husk or Husk fucked up that badly that Alastor punished Husk. Either way, Husk was sought out by his knowledge of Alastor, Alastor seemily part trust of Husk and the very recent bad blood between Husk and Alastor. The recent incident have Husk consider the collab. I think the show wouldn't show his answer. Have the viewer guessing he helping to plot Alastor murder which seem like he was.
The end result is most likely, as tempted as Husk is, he either told Alastor right away. Which Alastor struck a new deal. He return Husk soul as a reward for his loyalty if Husk play his role well of pretending to agree with the enemy and help bring down the enemy. (This deal is shown to the viewer when the enemy been double crossed and Alastor explains he knew of their plan all along like a typical villain monologues)
Or a more delightful way. It appears that Husk would go either way. Alastor makes his move against the enemy which is meant to Husk join, only Husk didn't fulfill his part. Allowing Alastor to get caught (Probably after Alastor mock the enemy how Alastor was knew all along of Husk involvement and Alastor was one step ahead of them the whole time...how embarrassing) and got in deep trouble to the point Alastor can no longer defend himself. Alastor completely felt betrayed by Husk sudden and inevitable betrayal Alastor understood it but he still pissed and hurt by it. Husk takes this moment to do his own monologue about his mistreatment by Alastor. How Alastor deserved this. This can end a few different ways:
Either Husk demands right then and there that Alastor gives his soul back if he saves him. (If Alastor didn't promise to return his soul as a rewards for informing him of "Husk betrayal" and his help)
Or after Husk rant and monologue about his mistreatment and seemily heading towards of witnessing the last few moments of Alastors after life, Husk would end the monologue with "despite it all, I don't want you dead even if it cost me my freedom" (Again if there was not a premade deal of releasing his soul). Shocking everyone in the room. If this option happen, I think Husk used his monologue not only to get things off his chest, but used it as a distraction that turn the tide in Alastor favor, such as Husk being close to the weapon to save Alastor from and turn it against the the enemy. Husk is a master magician so he knows about the importance of distraction. Alastor breaks Husk contract after saving Alastor life. Alastor saying Husk saved his soul, its only fair exchange to return Husks soul back to him. A soul for a soul. Alastor does not like to feel indebted, which included to those he has under his control.
or the other option, the one I prefer a little more then the last,...After Husk own rant about Alastor to Alastor, Husk willing to go thought the deed...only to find Alastor agree with Husk that he deserve this. Perhaps, glad and encouraging (I can see Alastor taunting "Do it!" ) its by Husk hand (possibly returning him back to his former glory as overlord?) I don't think we get an apology, but after Alastor agreed with Husks words, Alastor would say some genuine positive words about Husk and his service and loyalty (despite that loyalty seemily ended at the moment) as his last words, that be the closest thing to apology that the radio demon would make. Along with sincere words of wishing Husk happiness with his freedom and pass Alastor regret to Charlie that he is unable to continue his aid with her dream. Infuriating to Husk, the genuinity of the words got to him and similar to the last option, saved Alastor and turned against the enemy and Alastor returned Husk soul back to avoid being indebted and part gratitude. Alastor did ask Husk why he saved Alastor despite everything when Husk would been free if his death. All spoken in card talk. "It a sure bet if Alastor died. Why chance the pot (freedom) with the riskier hand." Etc. They seperate with a newfound relationship that's positive on both sides. Daresay, friends once more without complications and restrictions.
I like the idea of Husk being extremely tempted and even lured in for Alastor demised to gain freedom. But at the end, Husk couldn't follow through or unwilling to take part of it. Reluctant but willing to sacrifice the very thing he wants, his freedom, because it didn't felt right to betray and end Alastor. As much as Husk loathes it, Alastor part of Husk found family. -even if he isn't, Alastor is part of the found family to those Husk care about in his own found family. It's like an unintentional test of Husk character, and he passed. Its fitting about a show and hotel about rehabilitation and redemption. It be nice to see that good deeds can happen without promise of a reward, it just happened because it was right thing to do. Then get rewarded anyways. It would also, test Alastor character slightly, and show more insight about him. Or even reveal his true thoughts and feelings about the grumpy cat.
What realistically happen I think we get like sad low amount of seasons, like 3 seasons. (Nothing I really enjoy, last) We only see Husk be free in the epilogue. The epilogue being the final song of the series. Sung mainly by Charlie with others chiming in their parts like the end of season one. I think it 10-15 second cut scene of Alastor dissolve his contract and the visual representation of chain breaking and fading out of existent. Probably with Husk widened shocked eyes. The scene be wordless beside the possibility of a sung out sentence to be part of the final song. I think it be funny if you see Alastor stick out his hand as a gesture as no ill-will / no bad blood between them and Husk would look hesitant on taking it as it reminded him of his deal when he lost his soul in the first place. Alastor looking amused by this and they either work out another method for the gesture (I don't think they would hug even if Husk is overjoyed) or they get interrupted by cheering Angel or Charlie being overjoyed by the event and pull both into a hug and a start of a group hug with the other residents. It be unsatisfied as we don't really get the arc or story but satisfying enough that we at least know it canon happy ending as loose ends were tied off.
Feel free to comment thoughts and opinions.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel theory#hazbin hotel headcanon#alastor the radio demon#hazbin thoughts#hazbin theory#hazbin hotel thoughts#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel the radio demon#the radio demon#radio demon#husk hazbin hotel#hazbin husk#husk#hazbin hotel husk
28 notes
·
View notes
Note
Rewatching the Planet of the Apes- Ceasar lost alot of loved ones along his journey to become what he was. Good for a typical Hero’s journey in storytelling.
Do you think Noa would lose one or two from the Sunset Trio? or his family in the future? To further push him to become the leader he will become. The first movie was his coming of age story. Im betting the future movies would be more serious and raise some stakes to justify and strengthen his development.
Theres alot we can think, like Im betting either Soona dies or Anaya becomes a Koba version and possible Mae could accidentally be the cause of one of his loved ones deaths further testing Noa and his question “Can Ape and Human live together.” And will he be merciful and wiser through out all this?
Whatever will happen Im rooting for that Kiss/Hug/touch forehead ending with Mae and Noa. both learned the most important lesson of the franchise - to set aside differences and become one. Would be such an impactful ending!
Of course. The saga has shown itself to be quite brutal when it comes to the deaths of characters important to the protagonists. Caesar lost many loved ones along the way, and although in Noa's case it may not be as many, I firmly believe it will happen to him as well. The first was his father, and with that death, he begins his journey; it's to be expected that he will continue to suffer losses along the way. Personally, I think Anaya is most likely to be chosen as a tribute from his district (xD) because he is very close to him and also a character who elicits enough sympathy for the audience to justify an extreme reaction from Noa. I wouldn’t dare to assume that something will happen to his mother, and with Soona it depends a lot on the role they have planned for her in the following installments. But yeah, I'm pretty certain about Anaya lol.
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
i must preface this post by saying i am on the side of the activists and of radical leftists in the philippines, but there is too much rhetoric being espoused (mostly by manilenyos and other folk from metropoles) that has the effect of diminishing and perhaps even dehumanizing those from outside the center. they have cultures themselves that are often either unrecognized by the filipino or commodified
to feed into a filipino identity is to reinforce colonialist imposition. no matter how much you try to reform and make filipino your own, it will always be a tool for oppression for others. in the same way you cannot reform capitalism into something good
the filipino was made by the spanish to refer to other spaniards that were from the philippines. with the philippine revolution (itself mostly a transferral of power to america), the filipino has been claimed by the indios, and with it we participated in global capitalism
it is not fruitful to deny the truth of historical materialism: the philippines as a state is an american project, built upon the bones of quezon. to this day we are a neocolonial entity. what then? there is a better world beyond the filipino. those in manila would not know: manilenyo marxists and communists would be blinded even more by dogma.
if you have never experienced or lived through the lives of those in cebu, or davao, etc., you will not understand the violence of them understanding manilenyos when you talk tagalog but you not understand them when they speak in their own language.
the violence of filipino imposition, saying "this or that is filipino identity!"' when it is something pretty unique to the metropolis of manila. not every province has jeepneys (and i will say that I am of course on the side of the jeepney drivers and #NoToJeepneyPhaseout, just in case more leftists misconstrue my words as they are wont to do in this era of twitter discourse dominated by youth burgeoning from american educational systems), not every province has jollibees, or karatulas, or flower shops. in the same sense, the filipino colonial project looks to other places in the philippines and then immediately reduces them to their main export: cebu has lechon, iloilo has kansi, etc. this is a violence those that live in these places know too well. it hasn't changed.
is it ever surprising then that cebu wanted to leave the philippines back in the 50s? imagine this: in the event that we all had our way after spanish colonialism, we probably would've split. witness the shared cultures of china--they have different bespoke cultures but they are of the same country.
at the end of it all, this is still a criticism of nationalism and nation states. this is not a filipino problem, but a global capitalism problem. witness how even marx knew that nationalism was temporary and said that it was a manifestation of self-alienation. to become a nation is to be part of global capitalism's game, to be easily exploitable, to force yourself to conform to the definitions of the empire
#thoughts#on the philippines#because a lot of tibaks have a very rudimentary#dialectics and even marxism which they purport to be#its increasingly clear to me that activism in the philippines is becoming more and more of a means of releasing guilt#by the petty boojwazi#and they think following the leader is enough#instead of interrogating the actual structures of capitalism#and even interrogating and questioning the foundations of their own knowledge#but that's all right that's not exactly their job#their job is to resist and keep the fight up
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
You know what's hilarious, if Ludinus was indeed a young man being traumatized by the end of the Calamity. Deirta Thelyss is almost certainly older than he is.
This is not relevant but I think Essek should bring this up, just to be a bitch about it.
#for the purposes of showing my work: a beacon was found by leylas kryn 1200 years ago.#she was considered enough of a cultural leader or influence to convince people to follow her ergo likely an adult of some standing.#the other umavi of the ruling dens (aka deirta and abrianna) are suggested to have been around at the time as well#ludinus would be at most 1000 years old. they're all like. at LEAST 1400 mentally if not physically.#and that's the LOW estimate#as always how long was the calamity. are the umavi actually pre-calamity. that would be SO funny to me.#(pre-calamity and pre-divergence are different for the record.)#ludinus da'leth ain't SHIT#leylas kryn escaped lolth lived through the calamity and has gone through seven rebirths. ludinus WISHES#if ANYONE deserves to have beef with lolth it's leylas kryn for the record. I mean she does. canonically. BUT HERS IS MOST VALID#anyway as always the dynasty best country <3#if there are 99 ludinus haters I'm one of them if there's one it's me if there are none I've left this earth etc etc#he's just SO fun to hate and I do not respect him in the slightest nor do I think he deserves respect or validation.#I think he should get fucking sucked into a dark star and never be heard from again xoxo :3#cr spoilers#essek thelyss
260 notes
·
View notes
Note
I feel like the Warriors writers are allergic to making a character be cool. Like they all have to be an every man from humble origins and stuff nowadays. Why can't we ever just jump in like 'yeah this guy has cool river powers so we follow him' and BAM have an actual interesting story/concept/world it's always gotta be 'here is how he learns how to swim he is not special and here is his biography now :)' and its driving me NUTS these books are about! cats with magic powers!!
SO true, like, it's as if they saw the backlash to Tigerheart's resurrection and got scared of ever doing anything cool ever again. And they're COWARDS for it. THIS SERIES HAS ALWAYS HAD MAGIC. FUCK OFFFFF, THE CATS CAN DIE 9 TIMES AND FEAR THE WRATH OF GODS, GROW A SPINE
They didn't even HAVE to give him cool ass water powers or anything, just a special connection to the river, y'know? Have him treat it like a living being when others just think it's water. EASY. But nooooo They'll take the only good founder and be like, "What if he had nothing cool about him at all and his wife taught him everything actually."
#piece of writing advice; Boring characters are boring!!#Please don't be afraid to just DO genuine earnest things!#Who gives a good goddamn if people think it's Too Much? Maybe THEY'RE not enough!!!#Especially leaders god nothing makes me more frustrated in stories than a leader who is just. nothing#WHY are all the people choosing to follow them? What do they do with their power? What do they want?#It sucks when people write leaders who don't DO shit or don't WANT anything#Don't write like GoT. Don't pull a Bron.#bone babble
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
saw a post on my FYP asking what apheIios's personality is for writing him and honestly I don't know if I can even begin to describe him and he's one of my fav characters
#hwhee talks#also depends on the skin for him since id say heartsteeI is quite a bit different from his runeterra personality#I have talked too much about him before but hes surprisingly gentle and kind#even kind of implied to be. passive#i dont wanna say push over because that has negative connotations but hes more of a Follower than a Leader#very much plays the role of a Weapon and does whats told and expected of him#man saying Dependent sounds like its a bad thing#but you guys get what i mean.#and gentle and compassionate and sympathetic to others and their existence and right to live. hes very respectful#i mean id say his biggest ''flaw'' (wouldn't say its a bad thing) is being emotional#openly weeping for people who want him and his people dead. crying when he has to take a life he doesnt want to#but feels obligated to bc thats his role and duty. the inner turmoil but always surrendering to his role as a Weapon#the usual ''the weapon has Emotions and cant act fully as a tool of death and harm'' trope but#in this case he always does carry out his missions. despite these feelings since he feels theres no other choice#and also battling the invisible battle nobody else sees of just flat out being in pain and agony#but he doesnt see himself worthy enough (human enough? deserving enough??) to complain about his situation#because of his duty and role#and probably also thinks of things like ''my sister has it worse right now so i cant complain'' etc etc#but there is the lighter undertones you can insert like him being a little weird or playful or funny#moments he can smile and take in the beauty of the world or make a really quirky weird joke#or weird gesture like drinking a bottle of vinegar or something#think its in character for him to be out of touch with social cues and socializing and talking to people to know whats Weird and Not Weird#the disconnect can be humorous#idk he strikes me as the type of guy who always surprises you if that makes sense#yeah this is an assassin but he still does something thatll take you off guard#i dont think hes secretive in the usual mysterious sense but he just keeps stuff to himself because his problems have no place in a world#where others have it harder. or when he has a job to do and stuff. theres no time for it#hes really skilled and smart but somehow even knowing that youd probably be shocked i think. do these words make sense. help#i think also having a rare hidden playful side makes him super cute and charming#like his taunt emote is so dang cute and unexpected nfskdbsksbskdh
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
someday I swear I’m going to make a formal list of all the characters that fall into what is starting to seem like a fairly popular gay tv trope: older, brunette woman with extensive battle experience and a Troubled Past gets in a relationship with a younger blonde who is at first put off by her violence and has to deal with a kind of internal hypocrisy of hating violence but also surviving because other people do it for her (usually the other woman) and eventually having some character development ranging from learning to deal with violence herself and acknowledge it to becoming even more violent than her girlfriend. This often coincides with the dead lesbian trope (sometimes she’s bisexual in this case) as the older woman is usually seen as corruptive and killed right as or before the younger woman reaches new levels of power and violence
#It’s not extremely popular but it happens enough to be a pattern#The most clear examples are Xena/Gabrielle and Lexa/Clarke#Honestly I could go on way too long about how Clexa is a worse and stranger version of XWP (specifically Clexa and not the whole show)#Carmilla and Laura (tv show) also fall into this (although Laura never reaches the same violence levels as Gabrielle or Clarke#But anyways Clexa is worse because (besides the obvious) the relationship isn’t explored as much as X/G so it feels kind of messy#TBF it’s kind of hard to compare a relationship with a whole show about it to one with as season-long side plot about it#But I will bc I think it’s fun#Also Laura is so Gabrielle in so many ways even if her plot doesn’t follow as closely as Clarke’s in others#Honestly Clarke’s is kind of dissimilar towards the start because by the time she meets Lexa she’s already kind of ok with violence#Lexa definitely makes her a much more logical/emotionally removed leader#but she’s ok with and capable of killing people. Unlike Gabrielle and Laura#If anyone can think of other examples I would love to hear them!
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Soulmate AU in which when you touch your soulmate you swap bodies. It needs to be skin on skin contact and is instant. The only way to get back in the previous body is to touch again, otherwise you're stuck like that.
No matter the body all psychological and physical damage stays with you. That means if you get hurt then swap bodies, you will still feel it despite no longer having the wounds. This is only the case of existing wounds prior to swapping ; if new wounds happen to the hurt body after the swap you won't feel them, but the person in the body when it happens will. A very complicated way of saying that you can't get away from pain by swapping bodies with your soulmate as it will follow you.
There's no known consequences to not changing bodies back once swapped, though some might get sick for a few days after swapping back if they waited a long period of time to change back (say over a month, even longer depending on individual)
Now this but, you know... JeanMarco. And of course they find out during their time in the 104th Training Corps, because there's no way their skin didn't touch at least once in +3 years of training and being as close as they are. It isn't until break when they're able to visit home that they learn what it truly means ; up until that point they used it to swap chores (is the only reason why Jean didn't try to kill Eren during their shared chores- because it was actually Marco all along). At that point they knew each other perfectly.
Of course the whole situation was a little bit awkward for both of them when returning. They probably would end up avoiding each other for a bit because teenager boys and stuff, all until someone finally got the guts to mention the tension and ask them what's wrong- which forces them to talk and stuff. Doesn't matter, this is not what I want to talk about.
But the beautiful battle of Trost and what if, hypothetical speaking of course, they touch skin after Jean gets another ODM? And they're so used with each other by now, they don't even notice until the mission is nearly done anyway. And I don't know man, the idea of Jean dying while in Marco's body? Marco (in Jean's body) saying "I need to find Marco" once the mission is a success and research for his soulmate, just for him to not find him?? Not find him until 3 days later when some of them are assigned cleaning duty in Trost and he finds his own fucking body bitten in half???
The realization that it should've been Marco who died that day, but didn't because he was in Jean's body. The realization that not only his soulmate is dead, but he's stuck living his life. He's stuck living the life Jean can't because he died in Marco's place.
SEEING YOUR DEAD SOULMATE EVERYDAY WHEN YOU LOOK IN THE MIRROR. Poor Marco would most likely avoy any reflective surface for a very long time, unable to see Jean's face looking at him.
The guilt of lying to everyone, because how does one even begin to explain what's going on? Him lying to Jean's mother to protect her from the harsh truth of the reality- that her son actually died and the one in front of her was a fake.
And the sad truth is that no one would notice because they've been doing it for months already. They knew how to act like each other to perfection. Even if Marco slipped at some point no one would question it because they got many traits from each other already.
#Ok Armin might notice at some point. But I think somewhere later in the series#And only because of something extremely trivial like idk man Jean thanking Eren for something like#You heard of twins switching lifes now I present to you soulmates doing the exact thing but there's no turning back from it#Don't we all love the swapping bodies trope?#Marco crying when he learns of how Jean truly died because //he only got killed because they thought he was Marco//#With the amount the angst thrown at him Marco might as well just stay dead#anyway#aot#jean kirstein#jeanmarco#aot jean#marco bodt#marco bott#aot marco#jean kirschstein#soulmate au#JeanMarco Soulmates AU#Because there's a weirdly big lack of this trope for them and they deserve more#Hey hey. Is just a little scenario. There's 100% a lot of fluff going on during their training days#Lots of shenanigans too while learning to be comfortable in each other's body and stuff. And The Talk man#Everyone remembers that week in which Jean and Marco avoided each other like the worst week of their life#And some watched loved ones get eaten by titans man like it was THAT bad#Shadis was this 🤏🏻 close to starting an intervention because he wasn't paid enough to put up with whatever was going on#Oh nvm Ymir probably knew but that girl knew a lot of shit and said nothing so it doesn't matter. What's another secret added to the pile?#She could tell right away#Ymir takes one look at you and can tell immediately if you're gay or not. That girl got the gift#Marco living a life Jean would be proud of <3#Also Marco seeing the same exact illusion like Jean saw in canon and being like 'I'm right. Jean was born to be a great leader. I must#follow that path' then joining the Survey Corps because it felt right to do#The amount of times Marco has to stop himself from acting as Titan bait is ridiculous
6 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
cuteinopig
Tickin Tocks
alliseeislight
Lo-Fi Glow
kissedhersoul
Sk1nny or nothing
xtremeautoaccessories-blog
Untitled
adriana-lz2425
Adriana_Lz