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axelsagewrites · 1 month

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Hello. First of all love your writing. <3

I have a request for you:

can you write a robb stark x reader maybe reader is a ward of the starks and the two have been engaged and best friends since childhood. Then the wedding comes and the reader is nervous and afraid of the wedding night

thank you

Robb Stark*Goodnight Dear Husband

Pairing: Robb Stark x f!reader

Word count: 1594

Warnings: insecurity, worrying about sex, (brief)motherhood, marriage

Masterlist here

you still remember the first night you spent at Winterfell. The day had been so fun. Catelyn gave you a tour of the castle, Ned let you try pick up his sword Ice which you could barely even lift the handle, Jon taught you how to sneak into the kitchens. You even remember meeting Robb.

He was a lanky boy, seven to your six. His knees were knobbly, and his curly hair could barely be controlled no matter how much his mother tried. Freckles scattered his cheeks and there was a shy smile on his chapped lips. “Welcome my lady,” he greeted with a shaky bow which was matched with your own wonky curtsey.

“I like your horse,” he said, pointing to the stuffed animal in your hand. A wide smile beamed onto your face at that, “Would you like to meet my horse? You can ride him if you’d like,” and within moments of arriving you were already fast friends. You didn’t even know you were to marry him yet.

The day was fun but tiring at that. there was a small feast of stew and honey cakes to welcome you however you were relieved to be shown to your room. It was only a corridor away from Robb’s and next to the young Sansa’s and Arya’s.

The bed practically consumed you as you clambered in, snuggling into the furs to try get away from the nipping cold. You watched as the candle flame began to waver just as a wolf howled. Your hands clutched the furs in fear before bravely reaching out to grab your horse.

But it wasn’t there.

You’d left it at the feast. How could you be so foolish? You gently began to sniffle, soft tears falling when you realised you were alone, and the light was nearly out, and you didn’t know where they kept the spare candles. Then there was a knock at the door.

You quickly jumped out of bed, running to the door encase your parents had come to tell you it was time to go home. Instead stood a boy with knobbly knees and unkempt curls holding a stuffed horse. “You forgot this. Were you crying?”

“No,” you sniffled, snatching the horse from his hands, “Its just dusty in here,” Robb nodded, biding goodnight and turning to leave when you grabbed his wrist, “Wait! I-I,” you stammered, “I don’t know where the candles are,” you mumbled.

Robb, no longer even slightly shy, strode into the room, fetching them from a drawer and quickly lighting more for you. “How’s that?”

“Perfect. And thank you,” you said, smiling softly at the boy, a yawn overcoming you again.

“Do you want me to tuck you in?” he offered as you began to clamber into bed, “Its what my mum does when I’m scared,”

“I’m not scared,” you pouted, pulling the covers over yourself, “You can. If you want to. Its up to you,” you said, silently hoping he would which he instantly did. Robb tucked you in, kissing your forehead before turning to leave, “Night Robbie,”

“Night, night,”

You were pacing your room so much you wondered if you might wear a hole in the stone floor. Your wedding dress was folded perfectly in a chest by the foot of your bed. There was a box on top of it with your families crest on a broach your parents had gifted you as well as a Stark amulet from Ned and Cat. It also had hair pins, carefully selected by Sansa from the market and a silver ring with a red stone from Robb.

Everything was as it was supposed to be. You were to marry Robb and officially become a Stark. Yet for some reason your corset felt so tight you could hardly breathe despite how lose it was. Your mind was running over drive as your pacing struggled to keep up.

There was a soft knock on the door. You rushed over, flinging it open despite the late hour, to be greeted by your soon to be husband, “Robbie,” you almost gasped, “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you,” he said, coming in without having to ask, “Who were you expecting?”

“No one,” you lied, biting your lip in the way that made Robb raise an eyebrow. “Jon said he’d sneak me some honey cakes after cook went to bed,”

Robb chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair off your face. “You look so pretty,” despite him saying it a hundred times you still felt the butterflies dancing in your stomach.

“You wanna come in?” you asked.

He didn’t need to be told twice and soon you were sat on your bed, your legs over his and your head on his shoulder. It was a peaceful silence. It should have been relaxing but soon your mind began to wonder.

You were to be married tomorrow. There was a gorgeous white dress waiting for you, jewels to match, a new name and title. You were going to move into Robb’s room, be his wife, his comfort, his relief. In all ways soon.

Despite loving Robb, a rarity in marriage, you couldn’t help being scared. Sure, he was attractive, stunning even, and its not like you hadn’t had thoughts about it before but suddenly the wedding night was dawning on you.

Its not like you didn’t want to have sex. From what you had done with Robb you knew it would be good. great even. Orgasmic hopefully. But the idea of it made you tense. Something Robb soon noticed.

“You, okay?” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

“Yeah, just thinking,” you mumbled as you picked at your fingers, “Just you know. Wedding stuff,”

“You don’t sound too excited sweetheart,” he pouted, tightening his arms around you, “C’mon you can tell me,”

You sighed before moving to face him, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes were so filled with care you could drown in them. “Just worried about what comes next,”

“Kids?” he asked, eyebrows scrunched up.

“No! well now I am but still,” you sighed, closing your eyes so you could finally say the right words, “What if I’m not good at it?” you said, emphasizing the last word making a small oh come from his mouth. “I know it’s stupid- “

“It’s not stupid sweetheart,” he hushed, his hands moving to gently squeeze yours, “But trust me you’ll be good at it,” he chuckled.

“What if I don’t do it right?”

“We’ll figure it out,”

“What if I don’t like it?”

“Then we’ll stop,”

“What if you don’t think I look good?”

“That’s not physically possible,” he said, tilting your chin up with two fingers to give you a soft kiss with his cheeky smile. It quickly turned into a softer face, “Besides we don’t have to do it just because we can,”

You sighed, “I know you want too then,”

Robb shuffled, almost pulling away making you sit up. His shoulders deflated as he sighed, “Of course I want to love. But only if you do. I don’t want to have sex with some girl just because I can. I wanna be with you,” he said, taking your hands, “because I love you,” he managed to get a small smile out of you making him grin, “And because you’re sexy as fuck,”

“Shut up,” you laughed, smacking at his chest, “You can’t blame me for being worried,”

“I’m not blaming you. I’m nervous too,” he admitted making you laugh a little, “What?”

You shrugged, your eyes wandering over him, “Just never imagined you not all confident and suave. Besides you don’t need to be nervous. You’re perfect,” your hand moved to cup his jaw, your thumb running over his cheek bone.

Robb pulled your legs over his lap, pulling you into his side. “That’s how I feel about you. Whatever happens or doesn’t happen or whatever,” he rambled, taking your hands in his, “We’ll do it together and we’ll go slow. I never want to hurt you,”

“And I never wanna lose you,” you said squeezing his hands

“Good,” he said, leaning forward to kiss your lips gently, “Because you’re stuck with me,” you leaned in to return the kiss which started slow and gentle, but a shiver ran down your spine when his hand moved to rest on your hip. Your glorious make out was interrupted by a knock at the door.

It quickly opened just as you and Robb were pulling apart, “Gross,” Jon muttered as he closed the door behind him. “Also, sorry cook was up late tonight getting ready for the wedding,” he said as he handed you the wrapped goods, “speaking of. You.” He said, pointing a finger at Robb, “get to bed. I haven’t been covering for you two for you to get busted in her bed the night before so get,”

Robb sighed as he dragged himself away from you, giving one last peck before he had to go and before Jon would hit him. “And you,” Jon said as he now pointed his finger to you, “Get your beauty sleep. You need it,” he said with a tilted smile making Robb hit him and you laugh.

“Your one to talk now beat it. a lady needs her rest,”

“Uhuh,” Jon said, rolling his eyes but quickly wishing goodnight. He pretended not to notice Robb giving you a goodnight kiss and instead waited in the hall.

“I’ll see you tomorrow love wife even,” he grinned.

“Goodnight, dear husband,”

“Goodnight sweet wife,”

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catsteeth · 1 month

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The Caged Bird and The Leashed Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 2 ✿:+ White Mare

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Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it.

CW: slow burn, MDNI, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, alcohol consumption, mention of parent(s) death, mention of arranged marriage, mention of prostitution, mention of NSFW themes

Word Count: 3037

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Ever since that day in the stable you filled your days with reading, sewing, mindless activities to keep yourself busy. Anything to relieve your mind of the horrors of Kings Landing and your shameful thoughts of the giant who roamed the halls. Loras and you grew distant since you rejected his hand in marriage, in turn you spent your time with the Starks. It was hard at first to be without your only friend but you were determined to get your cousin out of this city. But it wasn’t hard when Sansa clung to you like a scared beaten dog. You were treated no better of course. But at least you knew how to handle such cruelty with a stepmother like Lysa.

“Don’t let them see you cry,” You’d repeat holding her face “Don’t let it show. Don’t you see how much pleasure he derives from seeing you like this?”

Arya would teach you small things she learned during her sword training, and in all honesty it was the most fun you’d had in years. You found yourself becoming more and more invested in those little girls' well being.

It seemed as soon as Nedd arrived in Kings Landing his time ended.

That day seemed like a dream. You were summoned by Cersei to her Chambers.

“Has Lord Stark mentioned anything to you about the nature of your fathers death?” Cersei questioned you calmly as she poured wine into her gablet.

“My fathers?” You asked genuinely confused, she nodded as she sipped her wine “No, your grace.”

“Good. It would be cruel of him to spark paranoia in the mind of a grieving daughter.” She said as she paced the room with her goblet of wine in hand.

“Paranoia?” If you weren’t before you would be now.

Cersei interrupted you once more “Lord Stark will be arrested for treason today. Somewhat unrelated but it would seem that Lord Stark’s head is filled with paranoid thoughts.”

You didn’t understand why your uncle was on trial for such a crime. You were just a girl to these men, they didn’t speak of such things with you, that is yet. “Little bird, you are a clever and strong girl. I know you are loyal, loyal to the Starks, they are your family. But it is important to be loyal to your allies just the same. Sometimes family will only drag us down, allies however can make us stronger.” Cersei not so subtly threatened you.

You nodded politely, as soon as you could leave you tried to find your little cousins.

You found Arya by the stables. You noticed the men lying dead on the ground with the Stark girls baggage. You saw Arya holding her bloodied sword after pulling it out of the stable boy.

She was horrified, you approached her slowly and quietly.

“Arya” You spoke gently but that didn’t stop Arya from jumping and pointing needle at you. “Arya, you need to run.” You said softly, almost a whisper.

She ran to you dropping needle, she wrapped her arms around you. You held her close but kneeled to her height.

You held her face with both your hands and your eyes bore into hers. “Your family is not safe here. You are not safe here.” Your grasp on her head did not waver. “You have to find a way out, get to the city, find a way out of the city, get to the north.”

“I can’t!” She began to whine as she cried

“You can!” you stroked her hair trying to keep her attention “You killed those men?”

“Just the stable boy” she cried softly

“You killed a man. That's more than most women will ever kill.” You pulled her face closer trying to make sure your words reached her “Listen to me those men will come and they will kill you. Don’t trust anyone, never tell them your name, never tell them your house. Lie, and get good at it. Kill if you need to.” You said as you grabbed needle and put it in her hand, “Now go.” You say as you let go of her and she runs off.

‘Good’ you thought as you watched her run away. As you watched you didn’t notice the tears that had fallen from your eyes.

Soon enough you were summoned by Cersei to witness Nedd’s verdict.

She didn’t anticipate what came next, and neither did you, watching the death of your uncle.

You held Sansa through it. As she screamed and cried, you tried your best to conceal her eyes.

Your eyes however dodged from your uncle to The Hound behind him. You hoped he would do something to stop it, but he didn’t

And so, it happened.

The second hand of the king died.

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He thought of it every night.

The moment he touched you, your skin, the moment his rough hands caressed your throat.

He rolled the thought over in his mind millions of times. Gods’, it tortured him to no end. He tried to bury himself in his duty, bury himself in any woman who looked the slightest bit like you on the Streets of Silk, even taking himself in his hand at the thought of your scent…. More than once.

The thought of you sparked resentment and anger in his chest. He was Kingsguard now, he had no use for a woman, had no use for these emotions he felt.

He hated you for it. Hated you for the way he wanted to rip Loras’s head off anytime he saw you and him in the garden. Hated you for the way he thought of your eyes everytime he closed his eyes. Hated you for the way his mind would wonder at you at any turn even on duty. Hated you for the way his chest tightened anytime he caught even a glimpse of you around Kings Landing. And he hated you for the way your eyes caught his. Each time it was like a deadlock, those eyes, they were a bow and arrow and they shot through him each time.

He grumbled under his breath anytime you were near. Purposefully look away from you as if you didn’t exist. You pretended not to care, but you fought hard just to catch a single glimpse of his face. The burns that draped across the right side of his face like the sheer lace curtains you had in your room in the Eyrie that distort your view from the window.

Neither of you had much time to think about these emotions during the following days. You were spending your time mothering Sana as she grieved her fathers death. The Hound was now King Joffrey’s personal bodyguard now that Robert was gone. A terrible task truly.

Even worse one when your stubborn and rebellious tongue didn’t obey your better judgment around the new king. The Hound tried to convince himself he hated it, but it turned him on even if he didn’t want to admit it. He tried to keep you safe, as safe as he could. Whenever you shot an annoyed glance, a cleverly concealed insult Joffrey's way, the Hound would simply divert Joffrey’s attention to something else. But if you ever got on Joffrey's bad side he couldn’t do much, far be it from him to question a king. On Joffrey’s name day you tested his patience. Joffrey had you and his lady Sansa accompany his side during his Name Day celebration. However you felt a slight sting of joy knowing you’d be so close to him once again. But more so your stomach turned in on itself. Joffrey no doubt invited you for the explicit challenge of trying to elicit some kind of reaction from you in some way. This became clear once he continuously asked for your input on the celebratory fighting. You’d had a small fascination with combat at first. It was like a dance but with blood and swords. but soon you’d grow bored of it.

As The Hound had beaten a man to a whimpering submissive pulp the fight was over. Joffrey clapped and cheered as The Hound removed his dog helmet.

Still you were stunned by him. You wanted to hate him for not helping your uncle. You tried to hate him but in all honesty you knew he couldn’t do anything to stop it. He’d no real power, no real way of stopping it.

“Well struck, Dog!” Joffrey shouted, and snapped you out of your trance.

Joffrey turned to you and Sansa “Did you like that?” he asked, taunting you and her.

“It was well struck, your Grace.” Sansa replied, stoic.

“I just said that.” Joffrey said, his eyes narrowed, his tone deepened.

Ser Meryn looked over in Sansa’s direction. You knew what that meant,

“I found it boring.” You chimed in, your eyes just as narrow as his.

“You did?” He asked with the same threatening tone

“Mm” you nodded

“And what man did your house bring to fight?”

“Brought no man.” You shook your head

The Hound returned to his station by the Kings side. He pretended not to listen but he was, intensely.

“You brought no man to my name day tournament?” He questioned further, you knew he would have taunted you further. To state it was for lack of good men or perhaps your dead father’s power died with him, that your house was to die with it.

“Not one.” Your head whipped towards Joffrey, gaze sharpening. “Not one man wished to celebrate your name day it would seem.”

“Ser Meryn.” Joffrey commanded.

You noticed the Hound's head tilt in your direction as Ser Meryn walked towards you and slapped you across your face, cutting your lip with the armor of his glove. As Ser Meryn walked away you turned your head back towards Joffrey.

“You are a pretty girl, a little more plump than I would like, but still a pretty girl.” Joffrey said “You should be more agreeable in tone, or you might find you won't be so pretty.” He smiled as he threatened you.

“Hm?” He waited for your response as you wiped the blood from your lip.

As you looked up, “Do you wish for me to cry, your Grace?” you asked almost mocking.

Joffrey began to dryly chuckle at your remark, probably about to order another hit for you as Ser Dontos Hollard stumbled onto the tournament drunkenly. The Hound cleared his throat, getting Joffrey to shift his attention towards him and not you. With his attention shifted you were safe once more.

Your eyes stayed on the Hound however. You knew what he had done for you, however subtle it was, you noticed.

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You found yourself spending more and more time near your mare. The moon shined on her just right for her coat to shine almost like metal, and your candle light shined on her just perfectly for her to glow like the sun. Lika, she was the only thing left you had from your home. You’d begin to yearn for the times you’d be furious with your fathers decisions and his useless attempts at comforting you. Because at least if he’d seen you were struck the way you had been, he’d have taken you home. He’d have helped you. But for now, you had Lika.

As you sat in front of Lika’s stable, you read some book you’d stolen from Tyrion at some point. It was hardly interesting, infact you’d almost fallen asleep but Lika nuzzled her snout into your neck and sniffed you deeply, jolting you awake before you smiled and wrapped your arm around her head. You began to stroke the side of her head as you heard a low and deep voice beckon from the entrance of the stables.

“Fuck are you doin’ girl.”

Your head snapped towards him, relief befell you once you saw it was him, the Hound.

You looked back towards your book, “Reading, or I was anyway.” You replied softly

“Read in your room,” He said gruffly as his large hand opened the doors to the stable wider. He was so tall he ducked into the doorway as he walked inside.

“I’ll decide where I read.” you said defiant as always.

With a dry chuckle he began to walk towards you, “Words like that are the reason you got that cut on your lip.”

“You don’t have to remind me of it.” You thought to yourself how this is exactly how you must sound to Sansa.

“Fuck-” He hissed under his breathe “You don’t want my help? Suit yourself.” He huffed “But don’t scream for me when you need it.”

“I won’t want it.” You say softly “Anyways, you can’t help me.-” You began as he cut you off

“I helped that Tyrell you love.” He said with venom in his voice and a softness in his gaze.

You furrowed your brows, stood up and faced him head on “And I have thanked you for it.”

“I know you helped that Stark girl escape.” He said matter of fact

You huffed “What do you want from me?” you asked pained

“I want you to stay away from me.”

“You seem to forget you came to me.”

“You should run from me, you should tell me to go.”

“I don’t run.”

“That’s the fucking problem with you, girl. If you’d any sense you’d think of yourself. Change that tone of yours. Change those eyes, the way you look at people… like you want to gut them.”

“I do want to.”

“Stubborn” he chuckled darkly “Stubborn will get you beaten.”

“Why did you come for me?”

“I saw the light-“

“No. If it were anyone else you’d’ve gone on your way by now.”

“Fuck does it matter?”

“Sandor-”

“Don’t call me that.” He hissed

“Tell me,” You say, raising a hand to his scarred cheek. He flinched and backed away quickly. His scowl deepened. He moved away from you, he turned to face outside the stables. “You wrapped your hand round my throat, and you won't let me touch your cheek?”

“It’s different, you’re not ruined.” He said whilst he stared into the nothingness outside the stable doors.

“Am I not?” You asked, your words felt sharp.

“No, no you are not.” His words felt gentler.

“I’ve no one, I’ve only this cage I sit in.”

“You’ve got someone,” He scoffed over his shoulder at me, my eyes looking up at him widening against my will. “You’ve got that Tyrell,” You huffed, “That stark child that follows you like a bloody shadow.” He looked back into the night, “I’ve got no one,”

“You do,” You say without noticing how bold it was until he turned to you, “Or you would, if you’d let them.”

“My brother.” he mumbled, his head hung low as he walked closer to you. “Pressed my cheek to the fire.” He finished, unwilling to give anything else. “I know you’ve heard the story, Baelish, that cocksucking rat, no doubt told you.”

“Course he did.” You didn’t lie, you never could to him. “But I asked you.”

He smirked slightly, his head still slightly turned away from you not wanting you to see.

Your hand rose to caress his cheek, you did it slowly. He flinched his head away slightly and in turn you pulled your hand back slightly. As his head came back, moving closer towards you. You moved your hand to his cheek once more, slowly. He grabbed your wrist before it could make contact with his face.

“Look at me,” He hissed “I’m a killer, the things I’ve done-” He thought back on those things “You don’t want this girl.” His grip on your wrist did not loosen, as if he was genuinely trying to protect you. “You’ll wed some lord, you’ll have his sons, and you’ll be far and gone from this shit city.”

“I don’t want to wed a lord.” Your eyes now are not so hateful but sad.

“World, doesn’t give a fuck what you want.” His hand reached out, slightly cupped the back of your head, hardly touching. He ran his hand down the length of your hair. Once he reached the end of it he held a lock of it in his hand to examine the color in the candle light. His deep, rich brown eyes reached yours once more. He could swear yours sparkled in any light.

“I’ll walk you to your chamber.” He said gruffly, peeling his eyes away with yours. He grabbed the book in your hand and walked towards the doors of the stables.

You let out a staged huff as you followed him.

As he led you through the halls you realized that you were doing just that, following him. He knew where your chambers were and knew how to get there swiftly.

The thought lit a fire in your chest.

As he arrived at your door he stopped, as you opened it you turned to look at him.

“You stole this from the imp.” He grumbled as he held up the book you did in fact steal.

Your eyes went from the book to him, “Are you going to report me to the Queen.” You said, you smiled slightly with your eyes. Testing him and his loyalties. He growled under his breath and walked off.

The way you tested his patience stirred something in him.

He’d definitely be taking himself in his hand that night again.

Is love the death of duty. Or is duty the death of love?

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dearsnow · 1 year

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EVERYWHERE, EVERYTHING

- your best friend comes home for the first time after joining the military. (jon snow x gn!reader, modern au, some parts are sad but it’s mostly fluffy). part of the mixtape 2: our version collab

based on “everywhere, everything” by noah kahan

word count: 3,530

a/n - i love jon sm but me personally? i would not be able to stand having a military man because i would be sad he’s not in my arms every day 🥲

Coming back to his large family house in his little hometown leaves Jon feeling conflicted. The snow is the same. The barren trees, the little snowmen on the front lawn, the crunch of leaves underfoot- everything is the same. It’s so similar to the life he once had, yet so different. As he gazes upon the once-warm house in the cold north, he finds it hard to swallow. His half-siblings have grown so much that he can hardly recognize the littlest ones; they went from lumps of blankets and tears to little people with their own thoughts and complicated personalities.

He will see you, too, and he isn’t sure if he can even handle the idea.

Leaving to join the military was one of the hardest things he ever had to do, yet it was necessary. Northward Base, lovingly nicknamed “The Wall” by its residents, had opened so many opportunities for him. Honor to his family and whatnot. He had gone through so much with his brothers, and there was yet more to come. But he is back now, at his old doorstep.

Sansa stands in the doorway, leaning on the side of it. Arya hasn’t spotted him yet, though he is sure she will rush him with a hug and a million questions when she does. Robb offers to take his luggage in with him, but Jon shakes his head with a smile. He can carry his own bags now.

You’ve been waiting for this day for so long. After years, years of waiting and writing to him and sitting in your own isolation, your best friend is at the tips of your numb fingers. As you stare out your window, almost afraid he would disappear again if you blink, you remember the day he left.

It was barely the middle of fall. There were dead leaves raked in piles outside of his house, the house you frequented, and you felt an almost childish urge. Who could stop you, though?

You jumped in a pile, the material underneath your boots giving out a crackling noise so loud it alerted the attention of the newly eleven-year-old Arya. She quickly jumped in with you, tackling you to the ground. You fell with a ‘fwump’, a giggle bubbling up through your stomach like warm cider. The ground was hard, the hidden rock underneath the left side of your back even harder, but all you could feel was joy.

You were too grown to be playing like that, and you knew it. You figured, though, that you had too little time to not enjoy every second of it. A mildly shocked Jon watched from the sidelines.

“Having fun?” He called. You laughed, the sound ringing out like a harmony to his ears.

“Definitely. Why don’t you come join us?” You tried to stand back up, but the child in your lap was making it a lot harder. Arya stuck out her tongue.

“Yeah, have a little fun!”

Jon shook his head. “Not today, I’m afraid.” He hesitated. “I actually have something to talk to you about.” He was looking so deeply into your soul you were sure he could see the words rumbling at the back of your throat.

Arya knew. She knew what he had to tell you, and she knew what you would say, and she decided that she would rather die than see the light fade from your eyes. She looked between the two of you for a moment then scampered away into the house behind her.

Your head was spinning. Why would she just leave like that? You knew her. She needed to know every moment, every interaction, every little glance between friend or foe. She would surely stay, unless (of course) she was already clued into the situation.

Jon took a deep breath, and you could tell his heart was aching just by the look in his deep brown eyes. His fists were clenched at his side and his breaths formed quick clouds in the cool air. You stood up, and he didn’t move to brush the leaves out of your hair like he normally would. His hands stayed still, so you took them in yours. He was ice cold.

“I’m leaving.” Oh, your Jon. So quick to the point.

“When? To where?” You questioned. You knew he had to leave at some point. You were leaving for college in the next month, though your university was so close to your home it was barely a drive.

“Today,” He whispered, “to join the military.” Your heart dropped down to your feet. You could feel a sting in your eyes, like a wave of salt water had suddenly drowned you. You now understand why Arya left so quickly.

“Today.” A prickle formed behind your eyes. “How could you not tell me? I won’t be able to see you for so long.”

He wilted like a dying flower. “I was going to. I would’ve told you when I first thought about enlisting, but it was finals week. It felt like a bad time. Then, so much happened and I just… I just couldn’t do it. But I’m leaving for Northward today, and I needed to tell you before I went.” He swallowed thickly. You looked so crestfallen, with your teary eyes and shaking voice. He wished he didn’t have to leave you like that, but he had made up his mind long ago.

“I wish you had told me earlier.” You choked out. He winced a little bit. “At the very least, I could’ve spent more time with you. Gotten milkshakes at the café by the church one more time,” his fists tighten more than he even thought possible. “but I want you to know that I support your decision. I believe you’ll be the best they’ve ever seen.”

You wanted to scream. To yell, to beg and clutch at his coat and plead for him to stay. A rabid animal had taken over your heart, clawing at your insides and shredding your resolve like cheese.

Jon could tell you were on the verge of tears just by looking at your shifting eyes. If you were a subject, he would pass with flying colors. He didn’t know what to do except embrace you.

You sunk into his arms like they were a plush comforter. The sun was collapsing, but with him, you were safe. That would have to change soon.

You could feel your tears making wet little marks on his shirt as your feelings finally bubbled over. He was leaving. You wouldn’t see him for a long, long time after that day, and you didn’t know how you would be able to stand it.

He lifted your chin with gentle hands. He hated seeing you cry, whether it was from a sad movie or something far more serious, so he did the only thing his heart could think of doing.

He pressed his lips to yours, and the sun finally exploded behind you.

You step out onto the sidewalk nervously, and past his driveway, you can see Jon. He’s just standing there, exchanging banter with Robb. Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest. Then, finally, he turns around.

When his eyes lock with yours, it’s like nothing ever changed. He’s taller now, with more muscle, a lot more scars, and a lot less hair. But he’s still Jon. You know his face like the back roads in Winterfell, the ones you can drive with your eyes closed. You know him like the little dorm that has been your new home for the past few years. God, you know him.

When you were sixteen, and he had just gotten his license, he took you out for a drive. He went on the back roads, the bumpy ones that sent you flying if you weren’t properly strapped in. You sat in the front seat of his brother’s old truck as you talked about anything and everything you could ever talk about.

When he reached his destination and laid out blankets in the bed of the truck, you didn’t know that in a few years, he would be gone. You laid in his arms that day as you watched the clouds meander by overhead. It was summer. The air was fresh, the grass field was peaceful, his breath was on your neck, and the birds were singing their twittering little songs. For a quiet boy, he sure talked a lot when it was just you and him. He was curious and lively in those little moments. His stoicism was put off to the side and he could talk freely when you looked at him. Your eyes were just so inviting he couldn’t stop his words from tumbling over the edge.

“I want to join the military someday. It’ll make my dad happy, I think, knowing I’m in there with my uncle. For once, maybe I can be more than my father’s unfortunate mistake. But I also know that it means leaving Winterfell behind, maybe forever. It means leaving everywhere, everything, and everyone. I wonder if I could even make a decision like that.” He said, eyes glued to the sky above. It was nice like that, you thought. Watching him watch the clouds.

“Whatever you decide, I’ll always be here for you.” You responded simply. It was true. Somehow, you knew you would still love him even if he was a million miles away. You would love him if he got a lover, though you would try your best to stop, and you would love him when he was dead. You would love him when you were dead, too. You would love him so deeply the worms would taste his lips on your rotting skin. “Just remember to write me every once in a while.” You didn’t know how soon he would be leaving, and looking back on it, you should have seen the signs. You should’ve known that he would leave the moment he graduated. He was always like that, persevering and fighting and marching forward the moment life called for it. But in the moment, you couldn’t even fathom life without your best friend. The only thing that mattered was the present.

He had brought a little laptop, and you both binge-watched bad rom-coms until you fell asleep wrapped in blankets that smelled like him.

He takes a step towards you, unsure. You’re unsure too, but a magnetic force pulls you forward until you’re both stumbling over your feet to get to each other. You crash into him, and he holds you like you might shatter and break. “Jon,” You whisper, “I missed you so much.” He smiles.

“I surely missed you more.”

You shake your head with a laugh. “Impossible. I wrote you so many letters they could fill a book, and I saved all of your texts.”

He looks at you with soft eyes. “You never left my mind when I was up there. Never.”

Robb hoots from the sidelines, and Sansa giggles. The Starks had been your rocks while Jon was away, though Robb was often gone, and you love them like siblings. They’ve always been your siblings, in a sense.

“Save some love for me, brother!” Robb calls. Jon looks over with a joking glare before Sansa pulls the other Stark into their family home. She was the wariest of you at first, but she quickly became one of your most trusted confidants. You guess she liked having someone around that she could spill drama to- none of her siblings cared for the latest whos, whats, and wheres.

Jon is still hugging you, but he pulls away just the tiniest bit. “We should go get milkshakes while I’m home. Is Hot Pie’s still open or has it closed down since I’ve been away?”

You narrow your eyes. “It’s still open, but don’t you think you should greet the rest of your family first?” He pauses like he just now realized. He laughs a little heartwarming laugh.

“Yeah, you’re right. Here,” He pulls out his keys, “Just wait in the truck. I’ll be out in a little.”

The ‘little’ was more like half an hour, but you were happy to wait. You realized, in those thirty minutes, something that you should have known years ago. You need to savor life while it lasts, let it melt on your tongue like a chocolate before you’re too old to taste it. You need to savor him while he’s yours. Everything will end someday, and you need to act like it. You set your resolve when you see him speed walking towards his truck. The same one from all those years ago, passed down to him when Robb had gotten something fresher and newer. Jon was never one to waste, so when it was his turn to have it, he fixed it up. It still felt the same, but the air freshener on the rearview mirror was an entirely new scent.

He got in the driver’s seat, and everything felt familiar. It felt like a wave washing over you, reminding you of all of the memories you have ever had with him.

There’s a little smile on his face as he turns the keys in the ignition.

“What did you do while I was away? Anything new you didn’t mention in your letters?” He asks. He’s watching the road, and you’re staring at the usual blur of snow and bare trees.

“Oh, nothing. I just studied a lot and missed you. I made a couple new friends in college, and I definitely missed you. Oh, have I mentioned that I missed you yet?” You tease. His cold heart warms in his chest as he chuckles.

“No, I don’t think you have.” He says, eyes flickering over to you for a minute.

“What were you up to?”

He shrugs. “I got promoted to lieutenant. I didn’t really want it, but it’s what I had to do. I was also attacked by my own platoon and my heart stopped. Got released from duty after that. I should have just stayed home.”

Your mouth drops open. “And you didn’t mention any of that to me?” He squints at the road.

“I didn’t want you to worry.” He replied simply. What a doofus, always concerned about you when all you want to do is be there for him.

“Well, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But if you do want to, my ears are open.” He laughs at that, and you laugh, and you’re both laughing so hard he almost misses the turn to Hot Pie’s. It’s not that funny, but somehow, it rekindles an old, dying flame.

The rest of the short drive is filled with words spilling from the surface of your skin. You have so much to talk about. Things both of you couldn’t express through letters or texts bubble up, and nothing stops them. You’re breathless by the time you reach the door of the café.

He opens the door for you, always a gentleman. When you step through the threshold, the familiar smell of sweets and freshly-baked bread wafting through the air, the boy behind the counter gasps.

“Our favorite customers, back again!” It’s Hot Pie himself, now grown and definitely friendlier than he once was. He was lovingly nicknamed after the place he worked a long time ago, and it seemingly stuck to this day. His name tag reads “Hot Pie Jr”.

You shoot him a smile. “You know we couldn’t stay away for very long.” He nods, satisfied with your answer.

“I guess it’s the usual then. An Oreo milkshake for m’lord, and something special for someone special.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and you snort. He still knows your order.

When you sit down at your usual booth, you notice a new painting on the wall. It’s a gorgeous landscape featuring the sun setting over a grassy field, one that looks so much like that certain spot in Winterfell it makes you shiver. You wonder if the café’s owners had it commissioned. Jon notices it too, and he gives you a slightly confused look.

“Is that…?”

“I think so.” It’s such a coincidence. There are reminders of your time in the bustling town everywhere. It’s like you can never escape it, and you’re quite sure you don’t want to. “That’s so weird, but I feel like it’s meant to be there.”

He nods in agreement. “Everything feels like it’s meant to be here. Especially you.” He makes no attempt to elaborate, so you gently coax the words he’s choking back out of his mouth.

“What do you mean by that?”

He hesitates. “You just feel like home to me. Being back here, not giving inspiring speeches or training or listening for gunshots and talking to you makes me think I could have a real second chance at life. When I’m with you, nothing else matters.” He looks at you like he expects you to kick him where it hurts. You don’t even consider that for a second.

“I feel the same way.” You offer, giving him a watery smile. The way he words things sounds so poetic it makes your head spin. You can feel tears rushing to your eyes again and the rough patch in your throat flares up, choking you with words unsaid. Something about him makes you emotional in a way you can’t even hope to stop. He lets out a deep sigh and looks even deeper into your eyes.

“I love you.”

You’re a little shocked. He’s not one to express his emotions so openly, but you’re glad your friend feels safe with you. “I love you too.”

“Not in that way. I love you so much it almost hurts. Every minute you’re gone I think about you, and I think about you even when you’re right in front of me. I’ve never loved anyone this deeply.” He confesses. You’ve been waiting for this moment since the moment you met him.

You met when you were both extremely young. His parents invited yours over for a dinner party, and you hit it off so well with the quiet boy that he has been stuck to your side ever since.

You loved him at first sight. From the moment you saw him, you fell head over heels into a never ending spiral of him. Down, down, down the rabbit hole you went, and you don’t regret a single second of pining. Everything has led up to this moment.

He looks so earnest and kind it sends a throb through your heart. He laid his inner workings on the table in front of you, and you can only respond in kind.

“Me too.” His eyes widen significantly, but he lets you continue. “I’ve loved you like that since we were little, before I even really knew what love was. I just saw your little frown and curly black hair and thought ‘yes, he’s the one’.” He smiles at that. “But really, I fell in love with your heart. I fell in love with how you care about other people, especially Arya. I fell in love with your intelligence and sparring prowess and messy handwriting. I love everything about you.” Your words come out in a ramble. You can’t stop yourself, the reasons just keep pouring until there’s nothing left.

He listens with thirsty ears. When you’re almost out of things to say, he can feel his heart beating just as fast as it did when he told you about his decision to leave. Butterflies are flocking in his stomach, but he leans over the table anyways to capture you in your second ever kiss. His lips are warm, just like how his hands usually are. They’re a little rough, too, but you don’t fault him for it. At the moment, nothing else matters except the fact that your passion is leaking out of every pore on your body.

When you finally break away to suck in greedy gulps of air, the volcano in your heart erupts and sends your mind reeling.

“Oh my god.” You’re so dazed you can barely function, and he doesn’t look much better. He’s panting a little, and that’s when Hot Pie decides to bring over your drinks.

“I didn’t want to interrupt, but here you are. On the house, lovebirds.” He teases. Jon’s face flushes red, and your cheeks warm so quickly you could rival a stovetop. He leaves you alone after that, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

Jom clears his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” You ask, breathless.

“For not asking to be your boyfriend earlier.” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, and it makes you laugh.

“Well, you certainly can be. I would appreciate it if you didn’t wait until the day of to announce your next departure, though.” He cringes.

“Understood.”

It’s a long time before you’re ready to leave Hot Pie’s, but in your eyes, it’s the most meaningful time you’ve ever spent. When you walk out, you walk out hand in hand, and for the first time in a long while, you truly feel alive.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

Taglist: @lovelyliliya @the-jess-life @hopelesswritergall @watercolorskyy @cecespizza01

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legitchild · 1 year

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Can the stans stop pretending Catelyn Stark was a super wonderful amazing mother? Cause she really wasn’t.

I’m not saying she was a bad mother. I’m just not saying she was a good mother either.

There are several issues I have with Catelyn’s parenting:

- She has blatant favourites. She outright states in one of her POV chapters that Bran is her favourite child and the way she thinks about Sansa vs the way she thinks about Arya is very telling. Her favouritism is, in my opinion, part of the reason why Arya has such bad self esteem- to the point of thinking that her family won’t rescue her- and why her relationship with Sansa was so fraught. Kids are perceptive and they pick up on parental favouritism. If you can tell your mother prefers your sister to you, that’s going to damage your self esteem and make you resent your sister.

- I do not like the way she chose to handle the war. She captured Tyrion despite knowing her husband and daughters were surrounded by Lannister men- this leads to Ned being injured by Jaime, and it’s this conflict, and the argument over Daenerys, that drives Robert into going hunting. And we all know what happens from there. Obviously there was a lot of other reasons for this, but Catelyn’s idiocy certainly didn’t help.

- The other aspect of Catelyn’s handling of the war I do not like is her decision to abandon her 8 year old and 3 year old sons. Bran is attempting to be the Lord in Winterfell, which he could really use Catelyn’s help and advice with, or even better, for her to be Lady instead. Rickon is 3 years old, a toddler still, and has no idea what is happening, he needs his mother. Robb, on the other hand, has a entire council of advisors who actually have experience fighting a war and therefore does not need Catelyn, especially considering her dumbass decision makes things much worse.

- Which handily leads me to Catelyn’s dumb decision to release Jaime. This screwed Robb over big time, went against his orders and cost him the Karstarks, leading to him losing the war. Now, again, obviously, there were a lot of other factors at play but it cannot be denied that Catelyn’s decision made things worse for Robb.

- My final point relates to Jon and Catelyn’s treatment of him. She stereotypes him based on her prejudices regarding bastards and treats him badly. Yes, treating an innocent child coldly because of something their father did and because of your own prejudices is, in fact, treating them badly. The way Catelyn treated Jon is not okay. Especially how she insisted he had to leave Winterfell when Ned left to go south. That is her kicking a 14 year old boy out of the only home he has ever known because of her own stupid prejudices which if she ever bothered to speak to him she’d know are not true. It is shitty behaviour.

I don’t think Catelyn is a bad person, or a bad mother. I just don’t think she’s the saintly amazing mother the fandom makes her out to be.

#Catelyn Stark #Sansa Stark #Arya Stark #Robb Stark #Rickon Stark #Bran Stark #Jon Snow #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #got #house stark

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cellsshapedlikestars · 1 year

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The Scooby-Doo AU sounds fantastic!

I take it that in this AU, Jon is Shaggy, Robb is Fred, Sansa is Daphne, Arya is Velma and Ghost would be Scooby, right?

If you have the time and inclination, i would really like to see the story published and further developed. It would be interesting to see what "ghost" is haunting Minisa and what other adventures the group might get up to.

I've had about 2k words of this written for at least a year and a half, but cannot seem to write anything past that. I've said before on here that "period pieces" are hard for me, and I wanted to set this in the 70s. I was not alive in the 70s, I'm not super interested in it as an aesthetic (I lean more towards 90s if we're considering recent history), so I find that harder to write.

I WANT to write this so bad because I have a pretty specific scene in mind for the middle, but who knows.

You know what? I might never actually post it, but I don't mind what I've written so far, so if you want, below the cut is what I have actually written of it.

Sansa watches mom hang the phone up with a click that sounds loud in the quiet tension of the kitchen.

“That's the third one,” Sansa says to break the silence, when mom doesn't say anything, when she just goes back to the casserole.

“We've talked about this,” mom sighs. She doesn't even look up, just starts layering more scalloped potatoes into the pan she'd started before the call came in. Sansa starts to open her mouth, but she hears the distant buzz of the washing machine and mom cuts in, “could you?”

She knows there's no use in trying to argue, so she gets off the stool and makes her way to the basement stairs and heads down.

“You know, you could get the laundry,” she tells Robb, who's lounging on the couch, idly watching The Price is Right, still in his pajamas. When Robb just shrugs, she huffs and starts to move the laundry from the washer to the dryer. “Where's Arya?”

“Out playing hockey with Rickon,” she hears him respond through a mouthful of food, and when she looks over, she sees the bag of chips on the coffee table in front of him.

Once the dryer is loaded, she grabs the next basket and starts to load it into the washer, and she carefully says, “Grandma called again.”

Behind her, she hears Robb shift. “She still seeing ghosts?”

“Mom still doesn't believe her.”

“Don't tell me you do?”

“No, of course not, but I am worried about her, which mom doesn't seem to be. I just keep thinking about her, all alone in that big house...”

“I know,” Robb sighs, finally getting off the couch and coming over to help sort the laundry with her. They're in Bran and Rickon's baskets now, and Sansa's nose crinkles up at the smells wafting out of them. “I think if dad were here, she'd probably be more open to listening to Grandma, but...”

He doesn't have to continue, Sansa knows. Dad tries not to take business trips in the summer so that mom doesn't have to handle all five of them alone, all day long, but this time he hadn't been able to get out of it. She knows mom's stressed, and Sansa's been trying to help out as much as she can, but even Rickon alone is a handful.

“What if I went?”

“You?” Robb turns to her with a frown.

“Just to check it out. Make sure it's nothing.”

“There's no way you're going down to Riverrun by yourself,” Robb laughs and Sansa feels a pang of annoyance shoot through her.

“What if someone's been breaking in? Like a burglar? Or what if it's some wild animal? We can't leave Grandma alone.”

“And what would you do against a burglar or a wild animal?”

Sansa shoots him a glare that he doesn't see because he's turned back to the laundry. She wants to remind him that women can do things. Women aren't helpless. It's the seventies, not the fifties.

(Except Sansa knows Robb wouldn't be saying any of this to Arya – because Arya isn't helpless. Sansa has never been the type of girl to stop shaving her legs or her underarms, to stop wearing a bra in protest. She never joined in to play sports when they were kids. Sansa wishes she could be more like that sometimes, but she's not. She likes pretty, soft things and Robb thinks she's weak. She probably is.)

She turns back to the laundry, finishing the sorting and piling the next load into the washer, fighting the lump in her throat at her own helplessness.

“We could all go.”

“What?”

When she looks at Robb, he's looking at her again, thoughtful. “You, me, Arya,” he says. “We could go check on Grandma, and it would give mom a bit of a break, you know? She wouldn't have to feed all five of us for a little. Less dishes, less laundry, less worrying.”

There's a relief that floods through her at the words, because she really is worried about Grandma – she's been all alone in that big mansion by the river for two years, ever since Grandpa died.

“Okay,” she smiles, closing the lid of the laundry. “Let's go.”

…

Deciding to go and actually going are two very different things, it turns out.

For one, they don't have a car.

Well, the family has two cars, actually, a luxury that Sansa often forgets is a luxury. Dad makes enough money that they can have two cars and send three kids to college while still living in their well-to-do neighborhood. But one of the cars is at the airport in long term parking where dad left it, and mom needs the other to run errands and take care of Bran and Rickon.

“We could take a train?” Sansa suggests as they sit in one of the booths of Luwin's Diner. Arya's busy working on a double fudge sundae, Robb's finishing up his fries, and Sansa takes another sip of her strawberry milkshake.

“I don't think a train goes anywhere near Grandma's house. The closest stop would probably be in Red Fork, and then we'd still have no way of getting to Riverrun.”

“Sans, doesn't your boyfriend have a car we could borrow? Isn't his dad a car salesman?”

Sansa feels her cheeks flush with heat and she shakes her head. “Harry and I broke up at the end of the semester,” she says like it doesn't bother her. Like she hadn't walked in on him naked, in bed, with a girl from his Literature class.

“Bummer,” Arya says, though Sansa knows it's because of the car thing and not actually Harry. The one time they'd met, Arya had not liked Harry. But then again, Arya's never liked any of Sansa's boyfriends, and she’s usually, annoyingly, right.

Robb's been silent for a while, he's staring out the window and Sansa turns to see what he's looking at. Across the street is a pizza shop and an auto body.

“I'll be right back,” Robb says, a slight frown on his face, a line between his brows. He gets up and leaves the diner, crossing the street towards the auto body. Mance's Auto, the sign reads.

“Where's he going?”

Arya leans over to watch Robb with her own frown. “Is that Jon's van?”

“Jon who?”

Arya sighs and points at a teal blue Volkswagen van that's parked in the alley between Mance's Auto and the pizza shop, so far back that Sansa hadn't even seen it at first. “Jon Snow.”

Memories slam back into Sansa's body, looking at that van. Of Robb and Jon and Theon driving off in it, mom's disapproving frown every time they did. Of that van parked on the street outside their house, the smell of pot drifting up from the basement whenever mom and dad weren't home. Of the one and only time she'd ever been inside it – Joffrey's letterman jacket lying in the back seat, abandoned, while Jon's leather one sat heavy and warm over her shoulders. Her eyes red and puffy, her nose still running. That endless silence as he drove her home.

She hasn't seen Jon in years.

“I didn't think they were friends anymore?” is all she manages to say as Robb disappears inside the auto body.

“Beats me.” There's a pause, and Sansa can feel Arya's energy shift into something mischievous. “C'mon, let's go see.”

With that, Arya slides out of the booth and Sansa stares after her in shock. “Arya!” she hisses, but Arya is already halfway out the door and Sansa quickly grabs her purse to follow. As she gets out of the booth, she digs around and manages to find a few bills that she drops on the table and hopes is enough. If not, Mr. Luwin knows they're good for it.

She follows Arya outside and across the street, but Arya doesn't go into the shop, she goes around the side alley, to the van. To Sansa's surprise, Robb and Jon are already there.

It really has been years since she last saw Jon, not since the summer after Robb's high school graduation. Jon looks different now – he's always had long hair, but now it's tied back out of his face and he's grown a beard and his hands are covered in grease or oil, she can't tell. There's a rag that hangs from one of the belt loops of his jeans and Jon is busy using it to wipe his hands, though Sansa thinks the effort is wasted, since the rag seems to be just as covered in grease as his hands are.

He and Robb look like they're arguing, but Jon's mouth snaps shut when he sees her and Arya at the opening of the alleyway between the auto body and the pizza shop. It's also then that Sansa notices a white dog leashed to a bit of fencing, with a bowl of water and food near it.

“Hey Jon,” Arya greets, looking between him and Robb. “It's been a while.”

“Arya,” Jon nods at her and then his eyes slide over to Sansa. “Sansa.”

“Hi Jon,” she gives him a little wave, unsure what else to do. There's a weird tension in the alley that she can't figure out.

“Does Jon have a car he can lend us?” Arya asks, and from the way Jon sighs, Sansa can tell this was the conversation he and Robb were already having.

“Jon says his boss wouldn't lend us a car,” Robb says with a frown. “And he won't let us borrow his van.”

“Robb,” Sansa hears herself say, and she almost winces at the scolding tone. She sounds a lot like their mother.

“What?” Robb asks with wide eyes. “We wouldn't need it for too long! And his mom doesn't live that far, he could walk to work no problem.”

“Do you still have that beanbag in the back?” Arya asks, moving towards the side of Jon's van. “I used to love that thing.”

Sansa watches as Arya takes hold of the handle and Jon opens his mouth in protest, but he's too late. Arya pulls open the door and instead of a beanbag chair that Sansa doesn't remember ever seeing (though again, she'd only been in the van once, and she hadn't been paying much attention to the interior), there's a lumpy twin mattress stuffed into the back, rumpled sheets piled haphazardly on it, trash bags of what looks like clothes on the seats in front of it.

Arya stares at it in confusion, until Jon moves forward and shuts the door, the slam of it echoing through the alleyway.

“Your mom kick you out again?” Robb asks, voice low, and Sansa wishes desperately that she and Arya had never followed. She feels like she shouldn't be hearing this. “You know you can always crash-”

“It's fine,” Jon starts wiping at his hands again with the rag. It's useless. He's just making it worse. “If you need the van to help your grandma, you can take it.”

“Where will you live?” Robb asks with a scowl. Arya still looks a bit shocked at the revelation.

“I dunno, maybe I'll go apologize and see if mom will let me back in.”

“Was the fight your fault?”

Jon shrugs and it only deepens Robb's frown.

“You could come with us?”

All three of them turn to look at her, and Sansa wonders where that even came from. The words simply flew out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying.

“That's a great idea!” Arya's confusion clears and is replaced with excitement. “C'mon Jon, this roadtrip will be loads more fun if you're along and I'm not stuck with these two dorks.”

Sansa watches Jon hesitate, looking between his van and Robb, then the back entrance to Mance's Auto. “I guess Mance has been on me to take some time off,” he hedges. “Ghost would have to come, too.”

“Perfect,” Arya grins.

…

Jon's van smells vaguely of pot and dog, but it's not as bad as Sansa thought it would be. Definitely not as bad as she was expecting a van that someone was living out of to smell like. With the windows rolled down, both smells disappear fairly quickly anyway.

They set off three days later, after finally convincing mom to let them go (even though they're all in college and legal adults, it was still a fight), and after Jon had gotten approval to take two weeks off work. When they finally set out, she notices that Jon has cleared out the van a bit – she has no idea where the mattress went, but it's gone and replaced by the beanbag that Arya loves so much. Jon and Robb sit in the front seats and Sansa sits in the middle row with Ghost at her feet while Arya sits in the back on that beanbag and messes around with the rest of Jon's stuff.

“You're going to break that,” Sansa whispers at her over the back of her seat as she watches Arya open a portable record player and start fiddling with it. Up front, Jon and Robb are talking in low voices, she thinks about Jon's mom, and so she tries not to listen in because it's none of her business.

Nothing about Jon is her business.

#cellsshapedlikeasks #jonsa #scooby doo au

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lookbluesoup · 10 months

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3. By contrast, what was the moment that first made their ~heart~ Soft for the other person? Not necessarily a conscious realization of “I love this person,” but a moment that had them like “Oh…I adore them…”

7. Do they (or would they) pursue the other character’s affection, and if so, how? Do they tell the other character how they feel? Try to earn their admiration? Woo them with romantic gestures? Flirt with them, skillfully or otherwise?

For Lyrha, with love <3

Thank youuuu :D <3

3. What was the moment that first made their ~heart~ Soft for the other person

There's a few moments like this for Lyrha. A big one is, of course, the first time they sleep together. She was already pretty attracted to him at that point, but X'rhun is gentle and attentive to her in a way she's never had before, which totally changes her perspective on what intimacy with another person can mean. While it might sound a little cliche to say the sex did it... for Lyrha, sex had always been a tool to protect herself. An act of giving something of herself away. It was a really big deal for her to realize that there was someone out there who would take her needs into account too, even when he didn't have to.

It shatters one of the last holdouts in her mind that everyone is selfish and in it for themselves, and helps her realize X'rhun really is the honorable man he claims to be.

And hilariously(?) the tenderness scares her so much she actually retreats from him for a while. She doesn't think he reciprocates any stronger feelings and doesn't know how to handle her own. She's never been in love before.

For the most part I suspect it kind of sneaks up on X'rhun. Having someone to travel with, banter with, fight beside... someone who stays. Though he always had hopes for her as an apprentice, he wasn't really looking for an attachment. But Lyrha is,,, sticky. And got herself gobbed up in his heart anyway.

I do think a particularly significant moment for him - and honestly, Lyrha, too - is the fight against Lambard. When X'rhun is badly injured and tries to tell Lyrha and Arya to flee... there's this Moment.

X'rhun is objectively a better fighter than Lyrha at this point, and she knows it. And Lambard's still strong thanks to his voidsent powers, something Lyrha is terrified of. His fight isn't with her. She could leave. She could bargain. In her old life, she'd probably have tried to ally herself with him because he was the stronger figure, and it made no sense to make herself his enemy.

But that means leaving X'rhun to die.

X'rhun... expects to die. He realizes he can't bring his rival to justice and despite spending decades with the pain of Lambard's betrayal, he doesn't cling to it. His only hope left is to protect his companions. He doesn't want to lose them, the way he lost his friends before.

And for Lyrha it's not even a serious consideration to flee. She's scared. She knows it's foolish. But she steps in between Lambard and X'rhun with ears pinned, sword drawn, and growls. It is entirely in defiance of her old life, a blatant pledge of loyalty to Red Magic. She'll fight for X'rhun.

And as horrifying as it is to X'rhun to watch her and Arya face his great enemy while helpless to aid them, seeing her choose that secures a place for her in his heart that no hell or high water could dislodge.

---

7. Do they pursue the other character’s affection, and if so, how?

This kind of ties in with the first one - but Lyrha soliciting X'rhun for sex was actually partly an attempt to foster attachment in him. Her body was a "gift" she was giving in gratitude for all he'd done for her, and in the back of her mind she felt that if she could give him physical satisfaction, he'd be less likely to leave her behind.

And when he blows her out the water with it (because X'rhun doesn't just take, he gives back) she realizes there's a lot she doesn't know, doesn't understand, and that is terrifying. She's no longer confident in her ability to please him, because he isn't like any man she's been with before. Sex had been her trump card.

So there's a lot of... Lyrha learning the difference between ingratiating herself to someone to have protection, and being in a relationship built on mutual affection and care. A huge element of her story is this very realization, growing in the ways that she wants and reasons she pursues someone's affection.

But overall they're both very good at flirtatious banter. And when they finally have a good sit down and actually talk about their feelings, it's... difficult, they've both got baggage, but extremely sincere.

And though X'rhun initially tries to keep some emotional distance, Lyrha's energetic attitude indeed pulls him in. He'll dance with her, bring her gifts (including one extremely temperamental Vochstein), and isn't afraid to get a little handsy. She gives as good as she gets.

For Lyrha, her determination to stay by his side no matter what is the greatest declaration she could ever offer, and he knows it.

---

Development Questions for Couples

#that's all i've got for these if folks want to send more in!#couples dev qs #verheart #lyrha #x'rhun tia #ask #long post #text #nsftumblr

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patrocles · 2 years

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What did you think about the show confirming that the targs conquered the 7K to prepare Westeros for the long night

So I'm kinda back and forth on this. When Viserys told Rhaenyra in the first episode I just burst out laughing like??? It almost feels jarring that after years of GOT not caring about prophecies and certainly not the BIG one, it feels weird to include it now especially since Arya killed the Night King anyways??? (But tbh I don't consider that ~~canon~~ anyways, so maybe the real long night will be the Jon Snow series?) I DIGRESS.

There's a lot to consider, so here's kinda where my brain is at:

If Aegon knew about the Long Night, and used that as an excuse to conquer Westeros, that doesn't make him a Good Guy. There's this idea that before the Targaryens, the Westerosi kingdoms were nothing more than a fumbling band of hill tribes that he and his sisters had to unite. But you could argue that it was precisely Targaryen presence that halted progression in the country. If anything, I think knowing about this apocalyptic-level threat and not really telling anyone about it (except your heir?) and using that as a secret justification to do the mass-murder conquering he wanted to do anyways makes Aegon even eviler than he already was. Because what did destroying Dorne or the Field of Fire have to do with helping save Westeros?

But I think that's also precisely what makes the Targaryens such a flawed and goofy-ass dynasty? We know from literally every other character that's had a prophetic dream that they're often vague and easy to misinterpret. And characters will often interpret them in a way that they want to. So there's no way of knowing that Aegon even interpreted his own dream correctly. But it is EXTREMELY within the Targaryen nature to center themselves regardless; What Viserys tells Rhaenyra in ep1 is basically "Aegon had this dream of a world-ending apocalypse and it can only be stopped if we're on the throne" and what's inscribed on the catspaw blade in ep4 are TOTALLY different.

I think the way it was interpreted was more about ensuring that someone of his bloodline was The Last Hero, but not about protecting Westeros. Because if he truly knew about this Grade-A level threat... why not at least share it with the Starks who've had a longer history with the Others and have been benefactors of The Wall for THOUSANDS of years longer? Why not come together like "Hey, you have this knowledge, I just had this crazy dream, lets share what we both know to come up with something that will benefit us all in the long-run." But he didn't do that? And none of the subsequent Targaryen kings did that, short of just pissing the Starks off like Ole King Joe. Only Queen Alysanne made it a priority to reach out to the Starks and try and build some kind of relationship. (Hell maybe Silverwing did leave some eggs in Winterfell as a failsafe in case something happened to the Targaryens in the future, and maybe Alyssa was actually Alaric Stark's to make sure there was someone in the bloodline with Ice and Fire ((this was a crack theory until i realized she's the only one of Joe and Alys' kids without silver hair and had some particular Stark traits in looks and temperament and her birth was right after Alysannes progress north))

But either way, I don't think all the Targaryens kings after Rhaenyra knew about it, as it seems like it was lost at some point and rediscovered by Rhaegar as a child. It actually gets really messy when you then think about Aegon IV and Summerhall, and the alleged Maester conspiracy that they helped kill dragons and their ALLEGED conspiracy to get the Targaryens off the throne? It just feels like there had to have been a better system of making sure that there was a failsafe in place beyond just a game of telephone and a knife. But I don't think that's a narrative or writing flaw, but just further proof that the Targaryens are kinda Not Good At This Whole Ruling Thing if they can't even handle something as serious as this.

#house of the dragon #asoiaf #long thots #anon #not to push both my anti targaryen AND alys/alaric agendas at 9am on a thursday #asoiaf ask

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idcwhattheblogisbutmynameiscandy · 1 year

Text

October Wind:

Chapter One; The Strange Client

⚠️Content Warning 16+!!⚠️

There will be some violence and mature themes, so if you don't like that leave. -NOT PROOFREAD-

October 7th, 1991

Lady Justice; a symbol of hope, an inspiration of many and the downfall of others. He saw her every day he was cooped up in the courthouse but could never fathom how such a noble figure became so sickening working day in and day out by her statue. She was supposed to be good; why do all good things turn sour?

Tom tried to wrap his head around it before but always came up empty. Today was no exception.

It was a brisk morning, much like any other for Tom Wallbrooke as he paddled down the street, cardboard coffee cup in hand, pondering life's questions as he avoided a puddle, stepping over a curb to straddle his lean, black motorbike.

Upon first glance; Tom is rugged, chestnut curls rustled carelessly about as he rides upon his 'Black Majesty,' as he calls it, leather gloves and jacket in toe. He seems wreckless, possibly even foolish to an outsider. One might be surprised when they hear that he's an inmate's rights defender, working in the criminal justice system. He revs the engine, pressing onward through the city as he turns on some music, making his trip bearable.

Guilty as charged, but damnit it ain't right! There's someone else controlling me!

He pushes onwards through the damp streets, increasing in speed as he overtakes another driver, taking a sharp turn as he inhales a deep breath. It's going to be a long day, he decides. Hearing some street squabble he turns up his music louder, attempting to drown out whatever petty conflict the streets of Crown Point, deciding that's an Indiana problem.

Flash before my eyes, now it's time to die! Burning in my brain, I can feel strain!

He parks his motorcycle outside of the courthouse, pulling up his leather sleeves to expose the tattoos lining his arms as he walks inside, tapping his rings on the front desk.

"Late again, Wallbrooke," the front desk lady, Araya scolds, her lips pressed into a thin line, showing her displeasure. Tom grins at her, exposing his dimples,

"A wizard is never late; nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to," he jests, to Arya's discontent.

"Whatever, dweeb, you have a new case in paranormal affairs," she says flatly and Tom's face falls. This was the one caveat to the job. Paranormal affairs. He could handle cruel prisons, long paperwork and even clients that got short with him- what he wasn't prepared for was the devastation in the treatment of 'the hybrids,' as they call them. They're not exactly human, but they're also not a demon or an angel, they're something in between. The freaks. Tom wouldn't say that, but many do. Tom decided that he'd immediately get to work, rushing to his desk to read the file left on his desk. This one's thick; thicker than normal.

Willow Corey; inmate 420. Tom looked at the name and froze. This can't be right, he thought. Willow Corey is... well, she's a lot of things, a hybrid is one of them, her mom is a high ranking official in hell, deciding upon the punishments and tortures of the sinners, and her father is an angel, known for designing various plants and animals. In the paranormal districts she was practically royalty... that was until 1974, when she was 160, she decided to affiliate herself with some demon rebels, ultimately landing her with charges of treason. Given the sentencing, she shouldn't even be in the prison anymore; she was charged with a lower sentence with a plea deal, conspiracy, which in hell is only fifteen years. He grumbles under his breath and pulled on his jacket, walking to the back room.

As he enters the dark room he looks around, his eyes slowly adjusting to the light until he spots his friend. Tall and lanky, he stands gaurd of a portal red and fierce, his baby face a clear sign of his youth. He was only nineteen, a singular year younger than Tom, but you'd never be able to guess it as Tom's job aged him far more than it should have. He blames the stress.

"Tobi! How are you, you awesome son of a bitch?!" Tom exclaims, excited to be able to work in his friend's sector, Tobi however, doesn't share that sentiment as he scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"Not great, Man, the sitch in hell is bad... Let me guess, you need access?" He asks and Tom nods grimly.

"Yeah man... Another hybrid mis case... This one's high profile," he grumbles and Tobi nods, opening the gate.

"She's all yours," he says grufly, pulling his dark colored bangs out of his eyes and Tom tilts his head in acknowledgement before entering. This is going to be a long day.

#paranormal #vintage #writer #fiction #distopia #slow burn

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fromtheseventhhell · 11 months

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I will say that it’s not surprising for book Sansa fans to dislike GRRM’s writing because he doesn’t write her coherently at all, and treats her as more of a camera than anything. Not to mention he pairs her with too many much older men (I hate Sansa’s ships but GRRM clearly write Sansan as romantic). I’ve always thought that GRRM’s writing for Sansa’s chapters is some of his weakest. He doesn’t know how to handle this character. But her fans can’t admit that because then they would be admitting that the parts they love from the books is all the headcanons they made up instead of just being like “yeah I made up someone more interesting and complex because the book is weak and shallow in this area”. That’s why Sansa fans actively get offended when people bring up canon moments and canon quotes from her arc that go against the delusional metas they’ve read.

I have to agree, although for me the issue is with Sansa's characterization itself rather than the quality of writing in her chapters. I think George has done a great job with writing the plot surrounding her and she offers an interesting perspective on things, similar to how we get Catelyn's POV on Robb's war. The issue is that George expanded her role but he doesn't seem to have a solid idea of what he wants to do with her character. She hasn't become more active with her increased story presence. She does have moments that influence the plot but most of those aren't intentional and come in the form of her revealing information to the wrong person (i.e. telling Cersei of Ned's plans and Dontos of the Tyrells'). She hasn't learned or grown as much as her "peers" have and a lot of her chapters do have her used as a "camera" to show what's going on with non-POV characters. I think her character gets overshadowed by the plots she's involved in. George uses her to introduce and hide the plotting of others which is interesting to read, but it also leaves Sansa in a position where she just isn't meant to grow and learn like other characters. If we knew about, say, Littlefinger's true intentions from the very beginning then things wouldn't be as interesting.

To me, her strongest characterization was in AGOT, which makes sense because her role in that book is the one George created her for. She got to be directly contrasted with Arya and overall, I think her relationships with other characters are where we've seen her grow the most. I hate how George has written her relationships with all of these older men, but I do think her relationships with them (platonic) are an interesting showcase of her character. With Sandor and Tyrion, for example, we see Sansa confronting her shallow ideas of beauty and knighthood. With Littlefinger, he uses her as a pawn and manipulates her, but he's also teaching her and potentially handing her the tools of his own undoing. The issue is that a lot of people don't look at how she's actually written and assign her growth she doesn't have. I can understand the urge and I genuinely believe that if Sansa had the same level of growth as others, she would be one of the best characters in the books. She will undoubtedly continue to grow in the last two books but for where the fandom wants her to be, George would need to give her four books worth of development in a few chapters which seems...unlikely.

I do agree that there's an issue with her stans getting angry when confronted with the book content. I've had people get upset with me for simply mentioning that Sansa was a part of LF's plot to poison SW. Her stans want her to simultaneously be the smartest character in the books while also being the purest, most naive character in existence. If you "insult" her intelligence then you're misogynistic but saying that she knows something that she was basically outright told is also bad. A really frustrating attitude that comes from her stans being unhappy with how she's actually written in the books. I think a lot of it comes from people wanting her book plot to line up with the show, but there's just no way that's happening. The sooner her stans come to terms with that and learn to like how she's actually written, the better.

#ask #anon #asoiaf #why people want her to have her show characterization is beyond me...she shows more intelligence in book 1 than she does in season 8 #they basically took away everything that made her Sansa and just turned her into generic /smart emotionless female character/#Sansa /courtesy is a Lady's armor/ Stark would never so openly show her disdain towards Dany her whole thing is charm and grace💀#anti sansa stans #I don't feel like I said anything to get mad at but just in case

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puelluna · 6 months

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“Alright, everyone, I know today is an exciting day, but please, be calm,” Arya smiled as the other gods filtered in, watching them take their places around the table that had been prepared for them all. She’d decided to call the other gods to attend this meeting by simply stating its purpose, a set of words that the others had been waiting years to hear:

“It’s time to go home.”

That had gotten her siblings moving. Some of them out of curiosity, others out of a genuine desire to return to Yrdea. Whenever Arya spoke of “home,” that was where she had so often meant. The world upon which the gods had been born.

It did not surprise Arya that, when she saw her siblings join her at the 14th Parlor, they all seemed to be wearing festive attire.

As they all trickled in and settled down, Arya’s eyes drifted over each of them, a sense of warm pride filling her. They had all become creators of their own worlds, with children and people to call their own. They had all come so far.

And it was time to finish this.

“Well,” she breathes, “It appears everyone is here…so, we can begin.” She leaned over a lectern before the others, hands guided to the sides; she was nervous about this. How could she not be? Even if it had been a long while coming. Especially if it had been a long while coming.

“Welcome, everyone. As you all well know by now, the threat of the Abyss is now gone, and what was left of the demonic threat has been dealt with; converted into protectors and guardians of the manaveins. Mother's plans have been fulfilled in their entirety, which alone has been cause for celebration. This has led to the question among some of us, however; namely, “when will we get to return to Yrdea?”

“Now, that started because, a long time ago, I promised you all that once the Abyss was dealt with, we would be able to do just that: return to Yrdea, and take up residence there, if we wish to." Her smile grew wide then, and she took a deep breath, before clearing her throat and saying,

"And I am deeply pleased to say that this is still my intention. Starting from this moment and going forwards, I am lifting our restriction on going home, and while you’re there, I will not impose restrictions on what you can or cannot do, with the obvious exception that, if you attempt to enslave mortals or return to the old ways, I will do what I must to put a stop to that. Do I make myself clear?”

Nyr was the first to speak up, raising a slow hand before talking,

“U-um…w-what if we don’t encourage them, but mortals attempt to worship us anyways? I-I am the goddess of oceans, after all…” nervous as ever, but Nyr had an unmistakable air of excitement to her today. Understandably so. Arya smiles in reply, before explaining,

“Those situations in which there is mortal worship involved will be discussed on a case-by-case basis. If it is chosen of the mortals’ own free wills, then I will not stop it from occurring, but if the situation becomes dangerous--if a bunch of mortals have gotten into a fight over which god is the best, if mortals wish to kill the god themself, or other such similar examples-- we will discuss removing the god or goddess involved for the safety of the mortals. The last thing we need is a bunch of zealous crusaders on our hands.”

That seemed to placate the others; Arya had ever been careful about how she handled these things, and it seemed that this would not be an exception.

Smiling, she then continued,

“Very well, if there are no more questions--then you all will be able to exit the bar onto our home island, and from there, you may go where you wish, and proceed as you wish. I expect to meet many of you out there, just please, do try and recall that they’ve been without us for a very long time, and so they may not accept you as divine, which, honestly, might be for the best. And…” she breathed, “...Welcome home.”

...

Arya stood, silent as everyone prepared to leave, carefully watching them go one after the other. Until, at last, it was just her and the girls, Elation and Grace, who in this moment, gathered close to her.

"My lady?" Grace spoke in that soft, motherly tone of hers, "Are you…ready to depart, yourself?"

It was the question Arya had been asking herself basically on-repeat ever since she had finished off the Abyss. Was she ready to return?

One of Elation’s hands came to rest on Arya’s arm, and Arya smiled, placing a hand gently upon her fox-eared retainer’s. Slowly, she nodded to Grace, and the Twins’ Reach began to shift. The transforming substance was at her whim with a simple telepathic command, and the normal, regal black dress she wore melted into a simple, black leather outfit, with a black cloak coming to rest atop the outfit so Arya’s body couldn’t really be seen. Arya extended a hand out, and from her fingertips, the black metallic substance formed a walking stick as well.

“...I’m ready,” she breathes, smiling at them both softly, “I trust you both will be able to handle the bar while I’m gone?”

That had been their agreement; that when Arya left for Yrdea, Grace and Elation would watch the bar, and keep the 14th Parlor in her stead. They didn’t mind, of course--it was hardly the first time they had done this. But it did mean Arya would be going home alone for the first time in ages. Not even with intent or purpose, just…to wander.

Both Elation and Grace nodded, and bowed to her. Which meant it was time to go.

Slowly, hesitantly, Arya stepped towards the door of the 14th Parlor, and turned the doorknob, stepping out and letting the door close behind her.

...

She emerged into a world at sunset.

Golden grass beneath her feet blew in the evening sunlight, and the sounds of gentle waves could be heard in an even rhythm that Arya knew as though it were engraved in her mind. Her hand around the walking staff shook, and as Arya glanced up at the mountain atop the island, tears began to stream down her face.

She sank to her knees, and began to do something between a sob and a laugh. She could feel, deep below the ground, the manaveins shifting and shivering at her presence, as it had likely done with the other gods’ arrivals, too. Arya let out a shaky sigh, and closed her eyes, looking upwards. The manaveins had likely nurtured mortals, as had been Arya’s hope, but she knew that this world had been made for them. The shivering, that was the manaveins calling out to her, saying “welcome home.”

With a wide smile across her face, Arya stood up and began to walk towards the shoreline. She knew this home, and knew it well, but it was time to see what mortals had come up with in her absence…

#saved #welcome home Arya #its been too long

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inquiriesofart · 1 year

Text

A Short Exchange - A Demon: The Descent Scene

I figured, why not post a little scene I wrote for my Demon: The Descent PC, Arya? It’s fun exploring her character in little side scenes that happen “off screen” from our games, which sometimes I’ll send to our DM for his canon approval.

Our group is based in Orlando, Florida (yes, Orlando, baha), and currently doing work for a vampire boss of sorts named Gregori who keeps an eye on the supernaturals in his territory of the city to make sure they’re not rocking the boat too much. For background on this particular scene, we had just finished up a job rescuing one of Gregori’s higher-ups, a Nosferatu named Ronnie. Arya, cold, removed, and stoic, but inwardly intensely hedonistic, took an odd interest in the easy-going, rather dork-ish Ronnie, and initiated hooking up together for a night--something she does pretty often with anyone she finds interesting, lol. So I wrote a short scene for after that!

The other appearing character is Zach, who acts as a point of contact between our group and Gregori. We have no idea what he is exactly, and he’s not particularly forthcoming about it. (Which also makes Arya highly intrigued with him, but she’s patiently playing the long-game on that one.)

Anyway! Enjoy this very short scene (full scene under the readmore!).

---

“You don’t have to rush out, you know. You can stay.”

It wasn’t a plea—something she heard a little too often—but a simple observation. Normally the firm click of the door closing behind her was her only response, but this time, Arya paused and looked back over her shoulder at the deeper shadow in the darkness. Watching her, waiting, but approaching no closer.

“I don’t stay,” was all she said, and was gone.

The Uber pulled up at the exact moment Arya stepped out from the apartment lobby onto the city street, quiet in the late-night-early-morning haze. She approached the car without breaking her stride—then stopped as her hand touched the handle. Her gaze flickered to the alley left of the complex, eyes narrowing. But in a breath she had disappeared into the backseat and sped away, leaving the street once again empty and silent.

Ronnie emerged from the apartment shortly after Arya’s departure. Well. He wasn’t going to waste the rest of a perfectly good night without any work obligations moping in his flat.

A cough at his shoulder nearly made him jump out of his skin. He spun on his heel to see a taciturn young man beside him. “Zach! God, you’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.”

“That’s literally impossible,” Zach observed, then continued, “I’m just here with a warning.”

“A—warning—?”

“I don’t care if you work with them,” Zach plowed on, ignoring the interruption. “That’s your business. But I wouldn’t get close to them.”

Ronnie’s mind flickered to the slender form silhouetted against the light spilling into his apartment from the hallway, haloing around her head as she turned just enough to see him, but not enough to show her eyes.

I don't stay.

“Yeah… I don’t see that happening anytime soon,” he said, rubbing his chin.

Zach shrugged, hand shoved deep in his pockets. “I’m just letting you know. They’re trouble, with a capital ‘T’.”

“Do you know what they are?”

Zach was hard to read on a good day—if he had those—and that day was apparently not tonight. “They’re not worth risking your hide for, if you get my drift.”

Ronnie got the sense he’d be pressing his luck with more questions, so he dropped the topic without a fight. “Well… thanks for the heads-up, anyway,” he said. “Warning duly noted. Uh—wanna grab a drink?”

“Not the kind you’re thinking of. Happy hunting, though.”

Ronnie grinned, showing all of his teeth. “See you later, then,” he replied, and with a casual wave, disappeared into the night.

Don’t get close, eh?

Well. They had his number. He’d just have to wait and see.

#demon the descent #ttrpg #short story #original character #world of darkness #arya zelinksi #my writing

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sovereignofgeeks · 2 years

Conversation

Idea for Arya asking Gendry to join her Pirate Crew. They've never met before in this AU. Planning to write this fic on the plane.

Gendry: I already told you. I'm not a criminal.

Arya: I need a blacksmith to take care of Needle and make me swords. You are the best.

Gendry: And I told you I'm no pirate now get out of my shop before I beat the shit out you.

Arya who has taken his prized bull's helmet: Well this is your prized first creation right?

Gendry: Yes put it down.

Arya: No. If you want it back you'll join my pirate crew!

Gendry: Are.. Are you blackmailing me?

Arya: Duh? How stupid are you?

Gendry: Who even are you?

Arya smiles: Arya Stark I'm gathering a crew that will rival Straw Hat's!

Gendry stared at her before throwing his head back and laughing: Silent Claw Arya wants me to join her Pirate Crew? As her first member. The papers are right. You fuckers are insane!

Arya: Vice Captain.

Gendry: What?

Arya: You will be my Vice Captain. Plus I'm not a Straw Hat anymore! I've left the nest.

Gendry: Listen lady. I got robbed a few days ago. A priceless blade belonging to the Lord Of Storm's End was stolen. I have my own shit to handle. So I ask again leave!

Arya: Perfect. I'll beat up the bandits and you can join my crew!

Gendry: You.. you are so selfish!

Arya: No I'm a pirate and I want you aboard my crew.

Gendry: Why?

Arya: I like you,

Gendry: How can someone so short be such a pain in my ass?!

Arya: How can someone so strong be wasting his life selling swords?! Don't you have a dream!

Gendry staring at her now in wonder: I want. I want to forge a Supreme Grade Blade.

Arya smirked: Perfect! As the woman who's going to surpass Straw Hat Luffy my crew can only carry the best swords. Join my crew and forge that sword and see it strike fear the world over.

Gendry: I have no intention to follow a weak woman. If you show weakness I'll kill you and take the captain's spot for myself. Got it.

Arya Starks smile only grew wider. He knew she was strong. And he could always back out if she failed with these bandits. That's why he hid how powerful the leader was from her. And if she won. Gendry guessed she'd be following for the rest of his life.

Arya held out her hand: You've got a deal. Gendry!

#Gendrya fanfiction #Gendrya first meeting #AryameetsGendry #One Piece Fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #Arya Stark is a pirate.

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salemsimss · 2 years

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It was not, and will never be your fault.

Beginning | Previous | Next

Transcript under the cut

Officer: So just to confirm, your attacker is a male who looks to be in his 30s. He has brown hair, but has baldness at the top.

Johnny: Yes.

Officer: And at the time of the incident, he was wearing a white vest top, grey jeans and black sunglasses?

Johnny: Yes, Officer.

Officer: Did you manage to get the name of this person?

Johnny: No... we never told each other our names.

Officer: Would you like us to pass on your details to Victim Support?

Johnny: Sure...

Officer: I’m sure you’re already aware that investigations can take some time, so I’ll give you this sheet with the name and phone number of the Officer who will be responsible for your case and keep you informed on developments. That being said, you can also contact us on 101. Just be sure to have your crime number ready, so we can identify your case quickly, okay?

Johnny: Okay.

Officer: You take care now, okay?

Johnny: Thanks...

---

[Telephone ringing in the background]

Johnny, internally: Looks like Bella’s finally been found. I wonder what happened to her?

Johnny: I didn’t keep you both waiting too long, did I?

Arya: No, of course not!

Johnny: I’m sorry that I interrupted your night out together.

Chris: Don’t worry about it, man. We were about to leave the place anyway.

Arya: Do you want us to take you home, or would you feel more comfortable staying at ours for the night?

Johnny: Is it okay if I stay at yours? I don’t think I can handle being alone right now.

Chris: Of course.

Johnny: Really?

Chris: Yeah, man. Stay as long as you need.

Johnny: Thank you.

Chris: It’s okay.

Johhny: I just feel so fucking pathetic, and I hate every shitty thing that’s gone on lately. And I hate myself for talking to that sleazy man in the bar and make him think he could touch me in ways that he did.

Chris: Johnny, you’ve spoke to strangers before, yes?

Johnny: Yeah...

Chris: Had that lead to them assaulting you?

Johnny, shaking his head: No.

Arya: What that man did to you has nothing to with you as a person, and is only about him. No sane person would even think about doing what that man did. What happened to you is not your fault.

Chris: But really though, you did nothing wrong. You being drunk and friendly isn’t an invitation for someone to have sex with you.

There needs to be consent, which you didn’t give. He should have stopped. He is the problem. Your appearance didn’t “provoke” him and cause him to lose control, either. The guy’s just a sick fuck.

#the sims #the sims 4 #ts4 #the sims 4 story #ts4 story #ts4 storytelling #the sims 4 storytelling #i forgot how the whole filing a report works #since i only ever used anonymous intelligence and that was years ago #*johnny zest #*arya navarro #*chris drago #bella is back #and safe #johnny zest #ss:changes #changes: chapter 4 #sims.related

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makahimetenshi · 12 days

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How i meet your mother and the story of how Arya Maxson was concieved - Chapter 20

The next chapter will be a lemon and then we are getting into the final

If you are very very very delighted with one fic and want a continuation I didn’t write or post you can donate me at least $5 bucks, most of this fics have next chapters I don’t finish because lack of motivation but hey a $5 is a $5, I see a few reviews and comments that fics that are abandoned months laters receive comments of wanting to know what happens next. Here it is, I finished my handling with you all, enjoy the fic

Another month passed in their pregnancy.

Both stay two more weeks in Pittsburg before coming back to DC.

The change in Noras body couldn’t be more evident and Arthur couldn’t be more happy about it, to enjoy it of course. Still, he set stone to his feelings, as he mentalized himself to see her like a sister…not a brotherhood sister, but it was a also weird because she was a sister he fucked and had a lot of intimacy, not only sexually but the little moments where she was against the counter and he will approach from behind to leave little smooches on her neck, or when he picks up her hand out of nothing, or also when she fixes his hair just to have excuses to touch his face.

It was like a girlfriend but without the love, and sure, he liked to have someone to express that closeness, it felt good to the soul, even if it was logically pointless because they weren’t…nothing…still it was fullfulling a human need he had due his lacks of…relationships, not exactly sexually, just deep relationships, hardly ever engaged this type of behavior repeteadly with someone close, less for this long.

-Today I have some visits –she said while changing the sheets of the pillows, Arthur was helping doing the bed.

-Danse hardly counts as a visit, he comes here too often –he spend the night with her, brotherhood soldiers waiting for the elder coming back from his booty session in the brotherhood room of the tower, that place was actually pretty nice to chill with his mans, more fancy than even the place in the citadel

But yeah the paladin was also there.

-He will be here as a visit too, the person stopping by is a friend of us –a common friend?- you can stay a little longer and join

Sure, why not.

There was a lot of changes in the Tempenny Tower lately, the painting on Noras apartment will start soon as they already fixed the roofts from cracks, openings, leaking, damaged plumbs, broken sewing, old paint and time damage, practically do it again adding a new layer of concrete to isolate the old once it was scratched as possible and refilled the cracks. Of course while the painting, sanded, and finishing works lasted, she will sleep at the Citadel with him.

And then, finally, she will have her perfect prewar home.

Like Jack Cabots house or something she said and he didn’t understand much.

During the morning the paladin join them while Nora was setting the table for four people, he was kinda surprised that Arthur was the one opening the door but walk inside anyway.

She made uncomfortable the poor relationship between them two.

Once the table was set she pick up a chair and a book, sitting in the balcony probably waiting for something in the dessert to arrive to the tower, and after a while she squeak exited, calling both man attention, there it was.

-Again, who are we expecting? –ask the elder a bit impressed bit the reaction.

-Preston Garvey –answer the paladin sitting at the other side of the couch

The name for some reason resonated in his mind, he couldn’t figure out why tho.

-Stay here! Im going to receive him! –she practically ran across the apartment and shut the door, wow, never see her that excited before.

After maybe 10 minutes she came back hugged to some other mans arm, laughing and smiling, a man with colonial old clothes, almost costumy

-My gosh don’t you look delicious like that –both were laughing, and his voice put him at ease, obviously queer

-Arthur this is Preston -Nora said with a big smile opening the doors wide and loud- he is my second hand Minutemen

Oh right.

-With the amount of work im having all alone im starting to regret a bit making you the general general

-Step ya pussy up

Oh he understand the man comment, and the undertone bellow it. Someone overwork and tired from the endless obligations while she was in the other side of the country playing pregnancy.

-We meet again sir –said the man to Arthur, who stand up from the couch for a handshake.

-Again? –said the elder meeting his hard grip.

-Well we actually never meet but our paths crossed back then –the confused blue eyes were telling him all he needed- back in the Commonwealth

Oh.

-Gosh what a memory

-Well is the place were I was saved by this sweet marshmellow at my side –Nora smiled and hugged more from his arm- just when I thought I failed everybody around me she cames asking for a little of kindness with a vault suit.

-And some directions –she smiled at him at a much sweeter way than she did to Danse. Caring-I'm going to ask them to bring lunch up here, I didn't know what time to expect you. –the black man nodded and she leave the room practically jumping of joy.

-Its been a while Danse –said Preston to the paladin.

-You hadn’t aged a bit –as strange at it was to tell, Danse came to hug the man, a quick hug ,comradery, nothing strange, but it was strange from him, at least for Arthur to see, he always save the manners in front of his elder. And despite their relationship with Nora he was still his elder, even if they weren’t in the citadel.

-Neither do you, are you sure you are not a synth? –Preston said that silly comment with a smile but quickly change his face at his silence and Arthur noticed, but couldn’t figure out what was happening between them, or if there was any second intention, it was a innocent joke.

-Ask Valentine if synths keep well over time –wow Arthur didn’t know Danse could be close to someone non brotherhood, but yeah its been a lot of months at Noras side in the Commonwealth so it should be normal for him to make at least one of her friends.

-So you were the man –ask Preston to Arthur- the choosen one –oh, right, the pregnancy-big fish hu?

-I believe I did well on my own, she is a strong prey to catch –what was that? He saw Danse rolling his eyes for a glimpse.

-I tried once too, it would give some sense of unity to the -Minutemens if the two generals married and stay together–with that hand movement he doubted it deeply-but she refused.

-Because you were always promiscuous and had pubic lices –said Nora walking into the room- I already ask for lunch to be served –she take a look at everybody present and clap her hands- lets go and seat, I fought a lot for that dining table and chairs, specially the chairs.

-Oh im so sorry miss condom –the way Nora look at him annoyed make Arthur curious, so, he had an interest in her, at least one very superficial- but you cant spice the sex unless you have a minor std at least.

-Gosh is so difficult to get laid in the wastelands, you have to be very selective

So this conversation was interesting.

Since Danse was her chosen partner and she wanted to conquer him for so long she shouldn’t have much sexual partners in order to be faithful to him and win his heart…and apparently Preston never achieved that position for pretty good reasons, Nora had standards

-I heard some other things I cannot mention here in the presence of some people…-murmur Danse just to spark a piece of anger on her, which it did.

-That was just a rumor! –inside joke between them alright alright he didn’t mind much anyway.

Unlike anything Arthur expected, she take a sit between him and Preston, leaving Danse aside. Why did everything always felt like an effort to fuck the paladin around? Nora was such a resentful person…?

-How much are you both…-ask the second general laughing.

-7 moths, in a pair of months this cake will be out of the oven! –the man laughed, that was a silly joke.

-That’s cute, I suppose you are going to take even more time off after the birth –his tone now changed a bit, Danse looks uncomfortable for a reason he couldn’t figure out, was the paladin really just her parthner or guard? His scort and nothing more? its seems like a recurrent theme of conversation between the three of them and he is sometimes more involved and knows more than he thought initially, after all he is a lot involved in Noras projects

-I mean i…-it was interesting see Nora shut down by somebody else, usually she is the one in position of powers, but truth to be told she changed a lot with the pregnancy, the hormones make her a totally different person

This was interesting, almost educational, funny how the man who never rode her is taming her.-I mean its not that bad right? Since you have the idiot who will run things alone back there in the Commonwealth -oh he was being sharp. How was it called the thing Nora gave him once to watch a movie? popcorn wasnt it? this display of power deserved it!

-And you are doing such an excellent job -Nora nerveously laughted and tried to pick up his hands but he moved them and grab hers between his fingers, a spike smile appeared in his cheeks.

-Of course, i have to, there isnt someone else

There was a silence in the room, Danse get up and moved to the balcony, still wanting to hear what was going on. The paladin was obviously uncomfortable around but the elder could tell that he was backing the general in this, pretty strange since he followed Nora to DC and never actually heard him saying anything about the Commonwealth but...truth is they were never close close friends, never talk much before her pregnancy anyway. Most of the things between them he was ignorant, he thought they were friends way before this but never actually were…

-Ill be back soon -murmur Nora trying to hide her discomfort but that bother the elder in the deepest.

-I dont think so -said firmly Arthur loud, calling Preston attention who looked at him- you will have to breastfeed our daughter maybe for a year -Nora turned her head at him annoyed and kick him in the anckle- this is not negotiable -Arya was more important than everybody in the entire world.

-Shut up -she said to him, but the elder raised an eyebrow.

-What? do you plan to make a trip postpartum?

Preston bite his lips and sighted. -That doesn’t sound good.

-Nono its okay im sure i can...-oh she tried to fix it.

-Do something about it? -the general laughed in her face- its a shit ton of time for me

-What do you mean time for you? Preston we've been doing this since i know you -it was interesting for Arthur to see Nora desperate trying to convince somebody in doing her ways and not just accept it and that’s all.

-You have been out of duty for years now -the general talk like someone who lost everyhope- i dont wanna rule the Minutemen alone in there, it was never my intention

-Just because you had a stumble back then doesnt mean you arent capable of handling things...-even Arthur was feeling uncomfortable with this chat, he was pushing for her reasoning and she was trying to diffuse his petition, clearly it wasnt the moment for her to come back to the Commonwealth

-I didnt say anything about being capable or not, i say i didnt want it -clear as DC water, her eyes open in surprise and sighted, let go his hands and bite her lips.

-Cant i ask you a little bit more of time?

-An entire year is not a little bit -he said serious- im warning you about this Nora, i don’t know for how long i will want to keep it together but once im done am sure there’s going to be a intern war for power if you are not there to claim your position -she looked at Preston serious, there was a lot of regret in her face- your presence is needed right now, and if your are not there before i drop everything, you should be at least after

-If something happen I promise ill be there… -she said with a weak voice but Arthur interrupted

-How? It’s a three weeks journey from here to the Commonwealth –he said calmy, trying to impose some reason, feeling her eyes full of hate over his neck, he didn’t mind, couldn’t care, she wont deny time to his daughter to be wandering around in the wasteland in her first months, Arya was far more important than that people

-He is right –said Preston pointing at him- it took me more than a month in caravans even if you send them to arrive here.

-Well better late than never doesn’t? –she tried to smile at her friend but he didn’t smile back.

-If you really want to be in power after I drop it…make sure to be there in the Commonwealth when it happens –he sighted and breathed in, closing his eyes. Nora bite her lips ashamed for not being able to give a proper solution to the problem right now.

She was far too pregnant to be dealing with this shit, she didn’t want to loose power in the Commonwealth but also didn’t want to take control right now neither, didn’t want this for herself, not this stress, not this problems, right now she just want to be a mom and that’s all, like she was always meant to be., a mom with pretty dresses in her expensive and nice furnished apartment

There was a knock knock on the door: Danse, unavalible during the conversation, away from this type of problems but still present in case he was needed, moved and open barely the door to attend whoever as knocking.

-Lunch is ready at the door –said Danse, oh it was going to be a very bitter lunch that’s for sure, spicy for Nora, she was at the edge of crying of frustration practically

Nora and Preston look at each other.

-You must be hungry after travelling in a caravan for more than a month –she sighted defeated.

-Indeed –he smiled at her with a tired smile

-Let them in –as soon she said that the people from the restaurant elevator bellow enter as Danse open the door and set the table for the four people to eat- relax Preston, its all paid already

-You always take care of me so well don’t you? –he mumble as someone place his plate and cup in front of him, stranged at the rare attention, my gosh this performance and show was so rare to see in the wastelands normally, the woman was so excentric sometimes…

-You are staying here don’t you? –this was kinda mean but delicious to see from Arthur, Nora trying her best to not fall apart.

-When im not doing tourism in DC I will stop here yes –said Preston as someone from the restaurant served his food, warm and steaming

-Do you think this is a nice place to take a walk or what –said Danse when his side of the table was setted sitting in his place on the table.

-I kinda heard the brotherhood make this a safe place over the years –the elder swallow saliva, wanting to laugh nervous, I mean it was safer than thirthy years ago that’s for sure, since the occupation of Lyons…

-You can still get raped if you cross with the wrong foot in a dark corner –said Nora almost taking with her hand the bottle of wine the people from the restaurant place on the table, but then realized for a second and stop, grabbing a can of water instead- Ill give you a few of my mercenarys to protect you if you decide to wander around here.

-Well look at that -Preston started to cut his meat with a smile, obviously happy.

-I still don’t recommend to go just for pleasure, you could get shot even if its not directed to you –said Danse also cutting on his meat

-The wastelands kill the concept of vacation and explore new lands I suppose –Nora drink from her can, usually she served on a cup and drink like a fancy lady but right now she clearly wasn’t on the right state of mind to do it.

-Along with a lot of other things -spit Arthur starting to eat this meal, juicy and delicious, for him, at least, the food taste better after seeing the woman who is shattering his heart everyday a tiny piece more suffer a bit, a tiny ity bit. The people from the restaurant finish their work on the table and leave the room silently as the commensals eat their warm meals, the aroma in the room was quite exquisite, when Arthur came to eat here at the tower the food was really good, never experienced the aroma of delicious food when coming into a room and now with her at his side he was living it everytime he visits

The rest of the food was chill, now Danse was the one speaking to the new guest instead of Nora, catching up some time, who was kinda down, of course eating for her was a very difficult task after that massive defeat, she will try to smile from time to time looking at them to display a façade of being okay but the elder knew she was faking, and surely everybody in the room who knew her enough also was able to notice that.

Her friend seem nice tho, not his fault that Nora was a total asshole.

#fallout 4 #arthur maxson #elder maxson #paladin danse #sole survivor #makahimefanfic

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