#she still loves jon but she's not over the stabbing

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 6

Part 5

Most of the time, being the son of Batman was a point of pride for Damian. Today, it was an exercise in frustration. Not only had Father deemed him too emotionally compromised to participate in the investigation of his so-called brother. Not only was he benched from patrol until Batman returned from abroad. He also had to continue attending school as if nothing had happened! He could probably teach most of the classes better than the adults! Oh, but ‘socializing with his peers’ was deemed too important to miss out on.

No wonder Damian was in a foul mood when he returned home. It had been the last school day before fall break, and a week ago he had been looking forward to the opportunity to patrol without having to worry about getting up early in the morning. Then that damned apparition had dropped the bombshell that had upended all of Damian’s carefully laid plans. Now half of the family was off chasing leads and he was stuck at home cooling his heels. It wasn’t fair!

After doing his customary check on his pets, he had changed into training gear as soon as possible and was now in the process of running through the latest combat program Father had designed. The flow of dodge-weave-counter-strike was helping him vent his frustration and clear his head. And if the training bots ended up more damaged than usual, well that just served Father right. He wasn’t some hapless child to be grounded!

Spin. Strike. Jump. Slash. He was moving on instinct, letting his training take over. A symphony of violence the background track to his churning thoughts, the questions that had been plaguing him all week.

Brother of blood. What did that mean? A full brother? A half brother? The result of some ill-advised dalliance of his Father? Unlikely. The letter had been addressed to Damian Al Ghul, not Damian Wayne. A deliberate choice of words, most likely. A child of his Mother then. He couldn’t imagine Mother would sully herself with another man’s touch. Even after everything, she still loved Father in her own twisted way. Unless Grandfather had ordered her… Stop it!

Stab. Crouch. Roll. Slice.

Never buried but already mourned. Not a lab grown creation then, to be discarded casually. Mourning meant caring. Love. Did Father know something? The haunted look that had appeared in his eyes spoke of old grief. The same grief that still plagued him when memories of Todd or Damian’s death were close to the surface. But he had never spoken of another child. Would he even bother to tell them?

Strike. Throw. Close distance. Disarm.

Lightning and ice. Defibrillation? Some horror movie style reanimation? Cryofreeze? The entity had meta abilities, could it harness lightning and ice as well? A better son, a more powerful Demon’s Heir… No!

Side-step. Kick. Twist. Leg-sweep.

Strike down the Demon’s Head. Did that mean Grandfather? Or Damian himself if the old man died first? It would be just like Grandfather to arrange for Damian to be killed and replaced by a brother. To get revenge for Damian choosing Batman’s legacy over the League’s while hurting their family in the most intimate way possible. Killed by a brother he should have loved, who should have loved him… Fool!

Damian stopped as the gong sounded to mark the end of the program. Around him, the training bots returned to their starting positions, now significantly worse for wear. A few of them were disabled to the point of uselessness.

Damian sheathed his weapons and forced his breathing to slow as he started his cool down stretches. It wouldn’t do to be careless because of some emotional episode. He was more disciplined than that.

What could Death earn anyway? Death brought nothing but nightmares and pain and torment.

Damian shivered. He didn’t like thinking about his Death.

Shoving the memories firmly aside, he returned his training weapons to their respective places before heading over to the Batcomputer. He needed a distraction. Maybe he should call up Jon and see if he had any plans for fall break. Since Damian was benched he would need something constructive to do with his time. Surely with the two of them working together they would find some kind of criminal enterprise to topple in a Kansas cornfield.

Damian compiled the search strings for any unusual activity in the area and set it to run. Now it was a waiting game to see if anything of note turned up. Leaning back, he idly kicked the console, sending his chair into a lazy spin. If nothing turned up in Kansas, maybe he would widen his search to the surrounding states. If they flew Air Superboy, distance would hardly be an issue. Hell, if Jon was busy maybe he could go visit Richard. Bludhaven was never lacking in crime, and Father wouldn’t be able to complain about a lack of appropriate supervision during patrol. With Drake and Todd having left on a ‘roadtrip’ for at least a day…

Damian stopped his spinning and frowned. Now that he thought about it, it was highly unusual for his two older brothers to have left Gotham together and in their civilian identities. Especially with the Bats already shorthanded due to Father’s absence and Robin’s benching. He had been too distracted by the upcoming school day to make the connection when his brothers had mentioned their plans at breakfast that morning. And Drake had been investigating League activity… Damian’s fingers flew across the keyboard, bypassing Drake’s security protocols with ease. If his brother had uncovered a League connection he had a right to know!

What he found among Drake’s recent search history was not what he expected. Some crackpot scientists from Illinois? That’s what had drawn his attention? Certainly, the older Robin had flagged some suspicious transactions and marked the Fentons as potential threats based on their inventions, but there were heroes closer to Amity Park that they could have foisted the investigation off on.

Damian drummed his fingers against his armrest. Something wasn’t adding up here. Pulling up everything he could find about the Fenton parents, he started looking through medical records, school records, articles… Suddenly, Damian’s heart slammed against his ribs. There, on the cover of a two year old magazine, was the face that had haunted him all week. With trembling fingers, he zoomed in on the image. It only took a few minutes to alter the hair and eye colour. It was unmistakably him. The boy who bore an uncanny resemblance to Damian himself, if slightly older and paler.

Swallowing hard, Damian scrolled through the magazine’s online archive to find the article mentioned on the title page. An almost extinct gorilla species. A chance discovery by then fourteen year old Daniel Fenton.

“Daniel,” Damian rolled the name around his mouth. A fairly common Western name. “Daniel. Danyal?” If he was Talia’s son, surely she would have used the Arabic version… no! He was jumping to conclusions!

Now having a name to go on, Damian dug deeper than Drake had bothered to. The birth certificate named a small town in Utah, but there were no records of a hospital admission. A home birth? There were no records of the Fentons having a residence in that state. No medical records of prenatal care either, though there were for the birth of the older sibling. Had the pregnancy gone unnoticed? Possible, if unlikely. There had been a vehicle registration for a motorhome during that time period though. Had the Fentons been living on the road when their son was born? Or had they acquired the child some other way? If he was an Al Ghul who would have spirited him away to the USA?

The Fentons had settled down in Amity Park about six months after Daniel’s birth, purchasing the residence they apparently used to this day. From there, his records were fairly standard and unremarkable, though there were a higher than average number of doctor’s visits for minor household accidents. Not enough to get flagged by CPS, but certainly worrying if potential mad science was involved. Daniel’s school records showed average grades, with higher scores in Maths and Science. At age fourteen however, his academic performance took a sharp dip, with an uneven performance on tests and numerous unexcused absences. His teachers noted frequent inattentiveness in class or Daniel outright falling asleep. Someone had submitted reports of bullying and suspicious bruises, but the case was dropped and never followed up on. His grades had evened out since then, but the unexcused absences persisted.

Damian knew enough about the trials and tribulations of teenage superheroics to recognize a pattern. And it certainly looked like Daniel fit the bill. If he had acquired meta abilities two years ago it probably took some time to get a handle on them and find a balance between his legal and illegal activities.

Damian steepled his fingers together. There was only so much his digital investigation could reveal. It was time for some fieldwork.

Part 7

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #batfamily #damian wayne #robin #prophecy universe #the one where clockwork uses prophecies to mess things up (and set things right) #no beta we die like danny #damian snoops on tim's browser history #and gets more than he bargained for #damian thinks he would have made a good brother #and having a brother would have made his childhood less miserable

[obsidianstrawberrymilk]

Assorted Batkid Headcanons

During the middle days of Damian being Dick’s Robin, he was still figuring out how to show affection in a nonviolent way, so he just kept getting Dick fish. His logic was ‘Grayson has issues taking care of himself, so I will get him a pet that even he will find easy to care for’.

As a result Dick has an entire tank of various fish, all named Jim after Jim Gordon.

Dick finds this hilarious. Babs finds this hilarious. She’ll casually mention something ‘Jim’ did in conversation with her dad and watch as he bluescreens.

Tim has the pallet of a five year old. All he likes are exceedingly sugary sweet foods everyone else wants to puke while eating.

As a result, all he drinks are those stupidly sugary energy drinks that leave you seeing god after a few minutes. Is this unhealthy? No, it’s a liquid, therefor water, therefor good - Tim Drake.

Duke has purposefully broken his wrist to see if he would light up like a glowstick before. It didn’t work.

Cass shows her affection through objects, so a Batkid will often walk into their residence to find something like a metal bottle cap or a feather neatly placed on their table, without any security triggered or any other indication anyone was ever here. They all know to treasure these, no matter what they are.

Jason, given he’s built like a tank, will often hold things out of reach from people just to Be An Asshole. He loves it.

Damian used the same method of affection on Steph when she was his Batgirl, but had a bit more faith in her ability to not let something die, so he kept getting her small rodents, like hamsters and rats. She named them all after characters from Supernatural.

Stephanie had a huge Supernatural phase when she was 13 and never really grew out of it. She’s tried out summoning rituals from the show before.

Every single Batkid had a Warriors phase. Every. Single. One.

Dick was SO FUCKING HAPPY when Duke showed up because he finally had a brother who would happily give him a hug without having a panic attack due to TouchFuckery.

Steph has referred to the Batfam as “Furry Touchfucked McNuggets” before. No one questions it because she’s right.

Babs has designated snacks for every occasion. Program Taking Too Long To Load is Cheetos. Bruce Being a Bitchass On the Comms is popcorn. Done With This Bullshit For Good, I Swear is Twix.

Tim’s Notes app on this phone is entirely filled with sleep deprived 4am rants about why Star Trek is the superior franchise. He’s very passionate about it.

One time Bart was bored so decided to raid the pantry and he found Damian crouched on one of the top shelves, hissing like a cat and clutching a box of Weetabix. He took a picture and now it’s the YJ discord group icon.

Not exactly Batfam but the YJ Core Four + Cissie have a discord group chat and Tim’s the mod.

Damian loves Weetabix. Idk if anyone else knows what that is but that shit was my fucking childhood so he loves it.

Duke has tried and is currently trying to unionize all the kid sidekicks. They’re getting there.

Jason’s favorite authors are Mary Shelley and Jane Austen. Pride and Prejudice is his comfort book that he often reads after patrolling as way to wind down. He fucking hates Edgar Allan Poe with a passion for reasons he refuses to explain.

Cass will sometimes teach some dance moves to little kids while on patrol. Sure, she knows it’s not stopping violence, but when she sees another little girl with scars on her palms and wary eyes light up as she twirls in the air and laugh as she leaps, she thinks it’s worth it. More than worth it.

Jason’s found her doing this sometimes. Neither of them say anything.

The Batkids all love Jon. Yeah, move over Damian, don’t keep him all to yourself. They may have their own supers/alien besties, but Jon is just adorable, and they all want to smoosh the cheeks of a kid who won’t attempt to stab them for it. Look, he’s so cute. The day anyone bullies Jon beware, because the entirety of Gotham’s vigilante force will be there to wreak havoc upon you.

#batfamily #batfam #dc #dc comics #dick grayson #barbara gordon #tim drake #jason todd #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #duke thomas #damian wayne #yj #jon kent #headcanons #weetabix #glowsticks #idek man #here we are ig #random bullshit #headcanon #batfam headcanons

[thesupreme316]

How Much I Would Charge to Babysit the AEW Roster (pt.1?)

idk what this is but I saw it on tiktok with kpop groups and I wanted to do it

(this is for comedic purposes; don't take seriously)

pics ain't mine

Adam Page

Free or $1/hr

I feel like he is such a cutie patootie; like he wouldn’t ask for much

Would not cause trouble (unless he gets a beer)

He’s just an angel

At this point, he’s babysitting me

Kenny Omega

$8/hr

Like Page, I feel like he would be very sweet

Probably just wants to play video games and watch anime

I wouldn’t have to worry about him

But something tells me I would have to fight with him for him to eat vegetables

Eddie Kingston

$10/hr

This man is a menace (if you read his Player’s Tribune article you know)

I would have to make sure he doesn’t stab anyone

Other than that he would wanna sit still and watch Japanese wrestling

Would def try to duplex me to “practice”

Jon Moxley

$150/hr

I FEAR HIM

He looks like he would bite me

Would cause chaos the moment I’m alone with him like setting the house on fire

Every day would be like an episode of South Park

Would definitely frame me for all of his bullshit

Hook

$3/hr

We would just sit in silence

I would grab some chips and try to play games with him; but he’ll ignore me

Tbh it might be boring

I’ll just invite the Lads over to entertain him

Willow Nightingale

Free

In fact, I would pay her

SHE IS SUCH A SWEETHEART I LOVE THIS WOMAN

I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR HER-

I will watch anything she puts on the tv

Max Caster

$115 and a Monster Energy Drink/hr

Man is too hyper (and smells like AXE body spray)

Would find a way to break anything 

I can’t do too much of anything or he’ll diss me

Also looks like he would bite me

Taglist: @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @batzy-watzy @eddie-kingstons-wifey @wwenhlimagines @sheinthatfandom @triscillal

#aew #all elite wrestling #aew imagine #all elite wrestling imagines #aew hook #aew hook imagine #eddie kingston #eddie kingston imagine #max caster #max caster imagine #willow nightingale #willow nightingale imagine #jon moxley #jon moxley imagine #kenny omega imagine #kenny omega #adam page #hangman adam page #adam page imagine #aew memes #wrestling meme

[spiraling-voids]

Things I thought of about Hatchetfield characters

These are kinda like my opinions or theories. Also, be prepared cause it’s a lot

Ted will probably never love someone like he loved Jenny ever again. Sure he would care about someone in his own Ted Spankoffski way, but never fully love them.

Alice would be the perfect person to be possessed by Blinky. During Watcher World when she found out her phone is broken she says, and I quote, “I need to be liking her post so she knows I’m watching her!” And keeps saying that she has to be around Deb to make sure their relationship stays.

Even if Max didn’t die and tries to change, him being redeemed would take a while. Weeks, months, maybe after high school! Redemption after being a bully for years doesn’t happen over night

The lords in black and lady in white may be eltric gods, but they still bicker and fight like any mortal siblings

If Max continued to not allow Kyle and Brenda to date, I feel like they would date in secret. The very little moment we get of those two, their relationship seems healthy and they both like each other.

Richie got most of his shirts from Hot Topic, and some of his anime themed things

Paul 23 probably thought of the real Paul when Android Emma said “You weren’t living it! You were running away from it” hence why he picked to stab the real Emma.

I like the idea of some of Jon’s characters being related. So, I like to think Ted just gave Peter to Paul every now and then cause he heard that Paul watched Alice, and because of that, Richie and Peter met each other.

Daniel/Stopwatch has definitely done many pranks on Richie and Trevor with the help of his powers, sometimes the three band together to prank Paul

#starkid #hatchetfield #ted spankoffski #jenny starkid #blinky #alice woodward #deb hatchetfield #max jagerman #wiggly #pokey #nibbly #tinky #webby hatchetfield #the lords in black #kyle clauger #brenda npmd #peter spankoffski #richie lipschitz #paul 23 #android emma #paul matthews #emma perkins #daniel nightmare time #trevor npmd #nightmare time #nightmare time 2 #nerdy prudes must die

[agent-whiskeys-sweetheart]

Yay your requests are open again!! :) if you are still doing game of thrones requests. Could you possibly right about some of the characters defending you against any disrespect or question of your character?

I love this request! Thanks so much for sending it in! 

Jaime - Jaime would fight to defend your honor. Not necessarily to the death but he would make a huge show of fighting in your place to make sure that no one ever disrespects you again. He knows you’d be scared to defend yourself so he’s happy to do it for you.

Sandor - Sandor would kill any man that dares disrespect you. He wouldn’t bother to talk or negotiate with them. The moment that a disrespectful word about you comes out of their mouth he’s slicing their throat. He would make sure you’re never disrespected again. 

Petyr - Petyr would engage in a battle of wits with whoever is stupid enough to talk badly about his girl. He would always wins as his opponent is woefully underprepared in terms of intelligence. Petyr would end the fight with a grin, knowing he’s defended you well. 

Jon - Jon wouldn’t want to start a fight over it. He would know that it’s for the best to be the better people and walk away rather than fighting about it. Of course he’d want to fight for you but he thinks it’s best to leave the whole situation alone and be with you instead.

Robb - Robb would start a fight with anyone that disrespects you. He wouldn’t want to do permanent damage to your verbal assailant but he would definitely prove that he’ll come to your aid every time. He would be sure to give you lots of praise and love when he’s done.

Tywin - Tywin wouldn’t personally kill whoever it is but he’d make sure that they disappear for good. He’d never want you to have to face them ever again. Anything that brings you discomfort or unhappiness has no place in your world. So he makes them go away. 

Bronn - Bronn wouldn’t give a shit about the person that disrespects you. That’s not to say he doesn’t care. He just doesn’t care about their opinion. He’d much rather spend time making sure that you feel loved and taken care of than fighting someone he doesn’t care about.

Jorah - Jorah would immediately usher you away from whoever it was that disrespected you and shower you with love and affection. He would want you to completely forget about that person so that all you can remember is his undying adoration and love for you. 

Ramsay - Ramsay would happily torture the person that disrespected you. He would make you sit and watch as he tears them limb from limb so that you know that he’ll always defend and take care of you. It’s his sick twisted way of showing you that he adores you.

Stannis - Stannis is a king. No one disrespects his girl and gets away with it. However he is also a just king. He would throw them in a dungeon to spend the rest of their days rotting away, thinking about the way that they disrespected you and facing the consequences.

Oberyn - Oberyn would get so pissed. You’d have to hold him back to keep him from stabbing the person that disrespected you. However, he wouldn’t because he knows it would displease you. No matter what he wants to make sure that you’re happy and taken care of.

Dany - Dany would be completely enraged. She would bring the guilty party before her and she would have her dragons burn them to death. She would never want to have to look on that piece of garbage again and she wouldn’t want you to have to either. 

Brienne - Brienne wants to be the bigger person. She would end up giving the person one swift punch, knocking them out with a single hit. That would be the extent of her rage and then she would lead you away by the hand, giving you a kiss and telling you she loves you.

#game of thrones #game of thrones preferences #game of thrones x reader #jaime lannister #sandor clegane #petyr baelish #jon snow #robb stark #tywin lannister #bronn of the blackwater #jorah mormont #ramsay bolton #stannis baratheon #oberyn martell #danaerys targaryen #brienne of tarth

[stevie-petey]

I have a blurb idea!! When Jonathan, Nancy , Joyce and will get back from the cabin and the kids fill everyone in on what happened while they were gone. Dustin would absolutely reenact Steve and Billy fighting and bug and Billy fighting. You can't tell me Dustin and the kids would be kinda proud that bug held her own against Billy for the most part. Jonathan hearing about bug protecting Steve from Billy and Steve protecting bug in the tunnels. Would Jonathan feel a little upset that bug doesn't need him to protect her anymore, that is Steve's job now?

i absolutely love this one omg yes i adore doing scenes with just steve n jon their friendship makes me <333

enjoy !

"wheres bug?"

steve and the kids are sweeping the floors, quiet and tired as the events from tonight finally settle upon them. when they hear jonathans question, they all stop what theyre doing. a dark look passes over steves bloodied and bruise face, a sight that only makes the ice within jonathans throat constrict tighter.

will is asleep in jonathans arms, and when no one answers his question his panic overwhelms him and he feels his grip on will lessen. "steve, wheres y/n?"

steve steps forward, understanding jonathans fear more than anyone else in this room. "shes okay, i promise."

"but where is she?"

"in your room, asleep. she... shes had a rough night." steve looks away, ashamed that he couldnt protect you.

"she got her ass kicked." dustin says blunty.

jonathans head spins. "what?"

joyce and nancy now walk in and quickly notice your absence. their own worry begins to rise. when mike sees nancy, he runs up to her and starts rattling off question after question about el, will, if she wants to see him, dustin, and lucas reenact you and steve fighting billy.

"you guys fought billy?" nancy exclaims, now stepping towards steve as well. she misses the way jonathans hands shake as he struggles to hold his brother. hes terrified. if you fought billy, why arent you here right now to brag about how you won? did he hurt you? did jonathan send you back to the hospital again?

its joyce who sees her sons panic. she gently grabs will from her oldest and kisses his cheek. her voice is low so that no one else hears. while steve understands jonathans fear for your safety, joyce understands his love for you. "shes strong. she'll be okay."

they leave and dustin and the boys jump into their reenactment of the fight. mike pretends to be billy while dustin is you and lucas is steve. they jump on one another, scream and throw plates, and when dustin jumps onto mikes back as he has lucas on the ground, something in jonathans stomach twists.

"y/n totally saved steves ass!" dustin whoops as he rides around mikes back.

nancy and jonathan look over to steve, who has been quiet the entire time, and when he catches their eye he lets out a soft chuckle and shrugs. "she did. seems we cant stop saving each other."

jonathan frowns, about to ask what he means by that, but then mike starts choking dustin and dustin pretends to faint and once again his head spins.

"did billy..." nancy turns to steve, terrified as well. she places a hand against her own neck, stroking at the skin tenderly. she cant imagine what youve gone through tonight, and jonathan just shakes his head.

"he did." steves voice is hard.

dustin now pretends to stab mike, who crumples to the floor. "and then she stabbed the creep!"

"y/n held her own," mike admits, impressed.

"shes my hero," steve quips, though his heart isnt entirely in it. his heart is in the next room, where it lays besides you in jonathans bed as you sleep.

lucas, who is still on the floor as he pretends to be a knocked out steve, holds a finger up. "didnt you then save her in the tunnels?"

"you took her to the tunnels?" jonathan faces steve feels an anger that was once so familiar to him now rise. after everything you went through tonight, why would steve allow you to further push yourself?

the teen sighs. he understands jonathans anger, but theres so much that he will never understand when it comes to you and steve. the debt you owe one another, the trust that is there to always have each others back, no questions asked. "we both know theres no stopping her when shes made up her mind. all i could do was make sure she was safe."

"which he did." dustin adds, sending jonathan a pointed look.

he deflates, now suddenly embarrassed for his outburst. he knows steve is right. when it comes to the ones you love, theres no stopping you. sometimes hes afraid youll die protecting everyone else.

the thought is an unpleasant one, and jonathan castes it out of his head. what matters now is that youre only a room away from him, asleep and safe and alive. you will have new scars, new bruises and wounds to heal, but youre alive, and he'll be right next to you once more. jonathan may not have been there tonight, and he might not ever be the one to protect you again, but he knows he will always be by your side as you recover and heal and move on.

hes been by your side he was he twelve and the only thing that scared you was the creaking of floorboards.

now hes seventeen and you fear much more than shadows.

youre not jonathans anymore to protect, not really, but you will always be his to watch over. he'll always be there to walk you home, and he knows youll always do the same for him. youll always remind each other of who you are, where you belong. lines and strings and all.

"so, you really saved y/n's life again?" jonathan asks steve, silently extending this admission as a peace offering.

steve shrugs once more, his face flushed. he feels the shift again, he can see the olive branch that jonathan presents him, and steve never thought he would get here. to be worthy of this, to have your safety in his hands and jonathans acceptance. "i owed her."

jonathan laughs, and steve finally understands why the boy is your closest friend. jonathan byers is a lot of things, but hes loyal above all else, and steve knows that he he understands you better than anyone else with such few words.

nancy takes mike home, steve offers to drive dustin and lucas, and slowly the house empties. as steve exits the door, he lingers for a second, before he takes a deep breath. "hey, jonathan."

he turns. "yeah?"

"go see her, she could really use you right now... she'll always need you."

jonathan smiles. "thank you."

they both know that hes thanking steve for so much more than encouraging him to go to you.

neither of them acknowledge it again. they dont need to.

#ask #anon #m speaks #m's writing #come home blurb #set in season 2 ! #jon n steve ur besties

[love-kurdt]

wip (writing is [happening, and here’s the] proof) sunday

from NTWDT2. i fucking love this scene and just had to share

“Guys… I have some news. It’s, uh… it’s pretty important.”

The sound of everyone’s forks on their plates stopped mid-scrape. I took a shaky breath.

“What about, sweetie?” Mom asked.

“So… I might have a boyfriend.”

“Might?” Dad grumbled, stabbing a piece of broccoli with his fork. “So, what, you have half a boyfriend?”

Mom scoffed. “Hopper, for Christ’s sake–”

“We’re Jewish, Joyce.

“For Christ’s sake–”

“Mom! Dad! Let him talk,” El cut Mom and Dad off, nodding at me to continue. “You were saying?”

“I have a whole boyfriend,” I playfully rolled my eyes. “We’ve been dating since November 2nd.”

“I’m very happy for you, Will. You deserve this,” my brother said in earnest, and I tried not to get choked up. He’d really been there for it all, hadn’t he? He’d seen me fall in love for the first time, and helped me through all of the grief and heartbreak that followed.

“Thanks, Jon.”

“So what’s this boy’s name?” Dad asked.

“Matt Winters.”

“Matt Winters,” El repeated, her eyebrows furrowing as she processed this new information. She shifted her gaze back up to me. “And you like him?”

“Um… I wouldn’t be dating him if I didn’t like him.”

“So why didn’t you invite him here for the holidays?” Mom asked, looking almost offended if it weren’t for the wide smile on her face. “You know we have no problem with hosting guests!”

“Yeah, I know. That’s not the reason why I didn’t invite him, though,” I grimaced. How could I explain that Matt wasn’t anything like Mike, and that I wasn’t sure how they’d react to me dating someone new? How could I explain that I still wasn't exactly completely over Mike yet, and taking Matt home for Hanukkah would have felt a little bit too… soon for me?

“I don’t know,” I continued, “I… I just… I want to make sure the guy I bring home for the holidays is someone I’m one hundred percent serious about. And I’ve only been dating him for a month and a half, not to mention he’s my first boyfriend ever! Cut me some slack!”

“So I guess you could say that this Matt is out of your… Wheelhouse,” Jonathan muttered, and El snorted. He just had to go there, didn’t he?

“Hmm,” Dad stroked his beard in thought. “I wonder if that tall glass of water of yours is back in town yet.”

“No, please, not this again,” I whined, putting my head in my hands as discussion about Mike Wheeler broke out at the dinner table.

This had been a common occurrence throughout all of high school. Everyone in my family was convinced that Mike reciprocated my feelings, and that we would eventually get together.

El and Jon teased me endlessly when I came home from Mike’s place, and forced me to recount every single second we’d spent together. Mom was a meddler; she’d always find ways to get Mike over to our house for family meals, and made it a point to emphasize the word family with the implication that he was a part of it. When Mike asked me to senior prom, that was the icing on the cake for Dad; I think he even made a chart after that. Dad was both my biggest cheerleader and my biggest comfort, especially when I told him about what happened after I found the letters.

But that chapter was over. So I cleared my throat, and everyone stopped talking, turning to face me.

“Matt is really great, guys,” I said in a low voice. “And yeah, he’s not Mike, but… at least give him a chance, will you? I’ll bring him home during Spring Break, and you guys can meet him then.”

#byler #byler fanfic #byler fic #byler tumblr #mike wheeler #will byers #will x mike #mike x will #stranger things #stranger things fic

[oh-no-the-hyperfixations]

Flight rising TMA Fandragons pt 1 of 3

This will contain spoilers

-

So i’ve been working on transforming the tma cast into silly little dragons ^^ jon was my first i planned out in july of last year. Its been a Very fun and Deeply expensive little collection which is still ongoing. The colors for these are in the alt text ^^

Jons skin was made by yours truly and was single handedly one of my most expensive items to buy, it features all his mentioned scars (or most anyways-) his burnt hand, teethmarks from daisy over his neck, and although they cant be seen with his outfit stab marks from michael. I thought a green theme fit him well given the podcasts coverart. I figured with the amount of stress this dude goes through a spiral was a perfect fit.

Martin was rather difficult to find the correct colors for at the time. I wanted him to carry pieces of his past with him (a locket from his mother, a coat from his internship with peter lukas and his tea set) i wanted him to be a Protector so i thought an obby was a good choice

Tim was Beyond fun and So So difficult, i wanted to play around with the idea of him becoming an avatar of the desolation after his demise and made him out of Wax and fire. Unfortunately they Still don’t have Hawaiian style shirts in FR so i had to compromise. I gave him some carnival wear to show its still Part of him

Sasha was a little difficult to get perfect- i wanted to show that she was plain enough to Melt into the background. She’s wrapped in more of the carousel set to show she Cant get off the merry go round because she Doesn’t have a face. I took Heavy inspo of her design from @reidspng sasha design cause i think they captured her Perfectly

Melanie King I was playing around with the thought of Ghost bullets and Bones, i scried her colors on accident after some trial and error and just Loved it, her outfit just fell in place after i got the skry ^^

Gerry was one of the first i completed fully- i saw the kelpie hair and just Knew it would be a perfect box dye, i wanted to give him this sorta ghostly aura- like you’d just summoned him in a seance and he just looks beyond annoyed

Gertrude was a little difficult to find the proper scry for- it felt like Nothing i was doing was turning out right- i started with her outfit first and worked backwards eventually landing on this- i’m rather happy with her overall- her as a coatl just worked out so well for a little arson grannie

Adelard dekker, One of my all time favorite statements mag157 has always stayed with me and i just Knew i had to make this fella. Poison and concrete were my inspirations, i wanted to imagine him as an avatar of the extinction having risen from his tomb to study and try to reverse the end of humanity.

Basira Husain- it is- hilariously difficult to make a modest muslim outfit in a game that doesn’t allow religious imagery- i eventually landed on this which was the Best i could manage. Her skry came after, i wanted to show off her intelligence and mild affiliation with the eye as Glasses (very cliche i know)

Last for this group is Daisy tonner- she’s my eldest of my fandragons at 7 years old (very expensive little purchase ;-;) i liked the idea of having mud and soil as a theme to reference when she was in the buried. She was originally planned as an imperial but i thought a wildclaw would suit her better.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin k blackwood #timothy stoker #sasha james #melanie king #gerry keay #gertrude robinson #adelard dekker #basira hussain #daisy tonner #flight rising #fandragons

[sansypansy]

"I feel lost without you."

Damian stood on the docks of Metropolis, staring quietly at the gentle waves as his hood and cape fluttered in the breeze. He was waiting for a boat to Lazarus Island - to his base - after a mission where Jon had needed his help.

It was good to see his best friend again. To work as a duo...just like old times.

His chest ached.

"You're leaving already?"

Damian's head perked up a little at the familiar voice. He didn't need to turn around to know Jon had that usual kicked puppy expression whenever they parted ways.

"Yes, back to my island," he replied. "It has been my new home for quite some time now. I've welcomed and connected with new people...people like me."

"Oh...I see." Jon sounded so incredibly sad that it stabbed into Damian's heart like a sharp, cruel knife.

It hurt worse than Heretic's sword.

He turned around at last, looking at the boy he no longer recognized but missed so dearly. Jon's sky blue eyes were downcast as he stood in front of Damian with his fists clenched. Even with the proximity, it felt like there were distances between them.

Damian took a deep breath and forced the words out. "It was great seeing you again, Jon. I always enjoy our time together."

He wanted to say more, wanted his best friend to know despite their individual paths, he always thought of Jon. That even if they weren't side by side, Damian's heart would always belong to him. It has been since they were kids, not knowing what falling in love was.

Damian couldn't be selfish.

But...if Jon asked him to stay, he didn't think he had enough willpower not to give in.

"Yeah, me too," the half-Kryptonian said with a small smile. "We always work best as partners."

Silence fell as they stared at each other, capes flying in the wind. Jon opened his mouth to say something, then hesitated. The hope inside Damian died when nothing came out and the loud horn of a boatship ruined the moment.

"Yo, Robin!" XXL called out with a grin. "You called for a ride?"

Damian turned and saw the boy standing beside his cousin Mara. "Yes, we will be leaving immediately."

"Hurry up, man! We're having a feast back at the island! Everybody's waiting for our favorite leader!"

The young Bat glanced back at Jon whose expression looked heartbroken. Damian tugged his hood down further over his mask in a poor attempt to mask his own sorrow.

He boarded the ship, feeling a heavy lump in his throat. Not once did Jon spoke up and stopped him from leaving.

"Until next time, Jonathan."

-----

The warm bonfires and the shared laughters during the feast did little to lift Damian's mood.

He spent the evening brooding around, giving short and half-hearted conversations. His mind still hadn't left the docks where Jon stood alone, watching him leave as if he'd just abandoned him.

"You are disheartened," Mara said pensively beside him. "Is it because of the young Superman in Metropolis?"

Damian sighed. "Observant as ever, cousin. Parting ways becomes harder everytime I see him. It's...painful."

He stared into the crackling fire, heart aching with longing and regret. He'd promised himself once he wouldn't suffer because of love. But Talia only loved once and passionately still, and Damian was his mother's son.

It was expected. In this line of work, love wasn't easy. Especially when things - terrible things - had happened to both of them. Damian had already accepted that the world would always need Superman more than he needed Jon. He was used to sacrifice.

His heart ached again.

"Don't despair, cousin. I have a feeling your Superman won't give up that easily." Mara hummed.

"What are you talking about?" Damian frowned. "We have different lives now. We've made our choices."

She gave him a meaningful glance as she sipped on her drink. Suddenly, Connor Hawke's voice called out from a distance.

"Robin! Someone is here to see you."

Damian stilled. He turned to where Connor waved at him and pointed to a lone figure on the beach. He walked forward in a trance when he recognized the familiar blue and red, then broke into a light jog until he came face to face with his best friend.

"Hey." Jon smiled tiredly as he dropped his backpack on the sand. "I heard Lazarus Island is a sanctuary for those who are lost in life."

"It is," Damian breathed out, still in shock that the half-Kryptonian had followed him all the way here.

"Well, I always feel lost without you, so...here I am." He shrugged. "I don't like being away from you. It hurts, and...I'm not myself when you're away."

It sounded suspiciously like a confession. Damian shouldn't get his hopes up. He shouldn't.

Jon's blue eyes held such a deep emotion that made his breath hitch.

"So...can I stay with you?"

The shorter teen was aware of the audience watching them from afar, how they were witnessing a more vulnerable side of Robin they never knew. But the only thing he could focus on right now was the racing heartbeat inside his chest, and from the hope in Jon's gaze Damian knew he could hear it too.

His lips parted slightly, eyes becoming slightly wet. "I miss the people we used to be."

Jon walked closer until they were inches apart and slowly took his hand. At this proximity, he was so much taller and though Damian should feel threatened...he didn't.

"Me too," his best friend whispered. "I miss us. I miss you."

"Then don't leave again," Damian said through the lump in his throat.

"Never again. I promise."

Jon's arms came up around him and Damian couldn't resist returning the embrace, clutching tightly at the bright red cape. He buried his face into that strong, firm chest and finally felt the constant ache in his heart melt away.

They clinged to each other desperately until a loud wolf whistle interrupted the moment. "Now kiss!"

The pair broke apart, faces red and bashful as Connor chastished XXL and Black Swan. Jon cleared his throat, picked up his backpack and smiled sheepishly.

"You gonna introduce me to your new friends?"

"Of course, Hayseed."

Damian's own lips curved upwards as he held Jon's hand, intertwining their fingers.

#jondami #super sons #damian wayne #jon kent #ficlet #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #robin 2021 #son of kal el

[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LGBTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 1, Wave 5, Poll 14

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included.

Check out the other polls in this wave and prior here.

Snake-Zero Escape

Qualifications:

Canonically disabled! He's blind and has a prosthetic arm! He's only semi-canonically gay, but the creator did acknowledge the possibility when people spam asked him if Snake is gay and he put up a twitter poll about it: https://twitter.com/Uchikoshi_Eng/status/1360856115450241027 so take that as you will

Canonically blind and implied to be gay, later confirmed by the creator

Propaganda:

Snake is so funny, he's a bit of a confident know it all but in a charming way. He can and will destroy you if you hurt his sister. He's EVERYTHING <3

He was declared gay via a poll on the creator's Twitter page which is just iconic of him. First ever character to have his sexuality democratically elected

Anything Else?:

He's more commonly called "Snake" as his real name (Light) is only revealed near the end of the game, and his last name technically comes from interviews outside canon. So "Light" is a bit of a "light" (haha) spoiler! (Submitter 1)

Melanie King-The Magnus Archives

Qualifications:

Bisexual and blind

Gay and blind and amazing

Melanie ends up being blinded by herself in the fourth season of the Magnus Archives, and ends up in a romantic relationship with another woman in the same season

She is blind and has a girlfriend. Canon disabled and canon wlw win 👍

she has a girlfriend and is blind

She is blind and sapphic (I'm not sure if anything exactly is ever confirmed in canon, but most people refer to her as a lesbian)

Propaganda:

she’s iconic

I love her

Oh I love my horrible woman who did many things wrong but in a way I sympathize with and also enjoy because she deserves to be a hater. Anyways so Melanie's very first appearance involved her arguing with Jon and and dismissing the way the Magnus Institute takes statements, which is a very good introduction for her in my opinion because she will continue to be a hater in regards to John. Melanie got stabbed by a ghost prior to her next appearance and briefly became a meme because turns out, when you get stabbed by a ghost, you'll want to tell people about the ghost, and she did this as she was being dragged away from where this happened. Her professional credit went downhill after this. She ends up being the catalyst of a big plot point in season 2 after this statement, because she's the only one who recognizes that Not-Sasha is, in fact, not Sasha. Then it turns out she cannot catch a break because she gets shot by a ghost later, and the ghost bullet turns out to not be a good thing later on. Melanie starts working for the Magnus Institute after Elias, her to-be horrible boss, proposes the role, since her credit has gone down so much that the job opportunity is very much needed. Then she realizes that she does not like her horrible murder boss and that she is bound to the institute, she keeps trying to kill him, which honestly I think she deserved to do because he sucks and she deserves a kill count. Though he shoves the knowledge that her father, who she thought died peacefully, actually died an agonizing, drawn out death in her brain so she stops doing that afterwards. She does help to get him arrested though, even if she really wanted to murder him. After this it is noted that she, at one point, fended off horrible flesh monsters with a knife single-handedly. John ends up realizing that the ghost bullet from earlier is still in her leg, and is more over making her far more murder hungry than she would be without it. So naturally the next step is DIY, non-consentual surgery, which she, after waking up shortly after the incident with her leg frozen and her friends committing medical malpractice, naturally objects to, which leads to her scarring John and overall not trusting him or Basira nearly as much as she might have before. Then she decides to actually prioritize her mental health a bit after going through every horror imaginable by going to therapy and insisting that, due to how the way tapes work in the archives, that none of her sessions be recorded, all while being just a bit paranoid about her therapist. Then it turned out that the only way to sever herself from the eye was to simply not have sight, and she's the one character who chooses this, getting rid of her eyesight very painfully and then moving in with Georgie, who ends up being her girlfriend. She's a little less hostile towards John after this, though she does not want to be in any archives business considering everything she went through there. Then, during the Eyepocalypse, she and her girlfriend, due to her not having sight and Georgie not having fear, are unaffected, and they sort of accidentally start a cult while trying to keep other people protected. Though it does not help that Melanie lied about having a vision that the whole thing would end, since the truth is really hopeless and bleak. She meets up with John and Martin again, is involved with the discussion of how the world can be maybe saved and is ultimately one of the three main characters to make it to the end of the finale, the others being Georgie and Basira. This is just me highlighting all of the wild things she's been up to and this would have gotten even longer if I had more propaganda.

She's so cool she tries to poison her evil boss she kicks ass she was a ghost hunter and she's also managed to escape her shitty situation by blinding herself to be able to quit her evil eldritch horror archiving job and just chill w/ her gf georgie and their cat (until the evil boss she tried to poison fucks everything up for everyone but in the end she and georgie still live and are presumably as fine as they cam be after all the shit that happened)

Only Melanie can accidentally become the Blind Prophet of the Apocalypse with her literally fearless girlfriend after trying to distance herself from the Beholding. She also had a ghost bullet infected with with The Slaughter in her leg which she got because she was a ghost hunting YouTuber/paranormal investigator.

Sometimes you gotta take your eyes out to escape your shitty job. And then you and your girlfriend live as prophets (and basically accidental cult-leaders) in the apocalypse

#polls #poll #disabled characters #lgbtq characters #disability #lgbtq #lgbtq dcs round 1 #lgbtq dcs wave 5 #snake zero escape #snake #zero escape #melanie king #the magnus archives #tma podcast #id in alt text

[lfthinkerwrites]

fireworks - author's choice ❣️

(Went for a different use of the term lol. Hope you enjoy!)

Dr. Arkham sighed. “Harvey, we’ve talked about the language. Before we continue the session, please apologize to Edward for what you said about his mother.”

From his place in the so-called ‘friendship circle’ between Jonathan and Waylon, Edward shrugged, “That’s not necessary, Dr. It’s been nearly thirty years since I’ve seen the woman. For all I know, she could be a syphilitic whore.”

Joker cackled and Pamela made a disgusted noise. Dr. Arkham shook his head. “Edward, please. This group therapy session is meant to foster a positive relationship in Arkham. We don’t want a repeat of what happened in the cafeteria yesterday.”

“We don’t?” Joker asked. “Aren’t we all glad that Jervis stabbed Laszlo with a sharpened spork?”

“You still want us to think Jervis did that?” Jonathan drawled.

“Well he did have the spork in his pocket.” Joker let out an exaggerated gasp. “Wait! Are you trying to imply that he was framed, Spooky? By who?”

“No one’s implying anything Joker.” Personally, Arkham agreed that Jervis didn’t do it, but he didn’t care enough to get the little bastard out of solitary. “Let’s move on. I’d like everyone here to say something positive about someone. Joker, we’ll start with you. Say something positive and keep it appropriate please.”

Joker grinned. “I know something positive! I found out that if you hit Robin in the spleen with a crowbar, he squeaks like a dog’s chew toy!”

Arkham wiped a hand down his face and willed himself not to cry. “I said to keep it appropriate, Joker.” A loud laugh was his only response. Arkham squeezed his eyes shut, internally counted to ten, then turned his gaze to Waylon. “Would you like to say something positive, Waylon?”

Waylon rubbed his chin with a scaly hand. “It can’t be about eating people?”

Arkham resisted the urge to throw his writing pad at Waylon’s face. He had a shock collar on and there were armed guards just outside, but why risk it? “No Waylon, it can’t be about eating people.”

Waylon nodded. “Ok. I have something positive to say about Jervis.”

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’m happy that he’s in solitary and I don’t have to listen to him whine about Alice!”

Joker cackled again, as did Edward, Pamela, and even Arnold. Arkham took a deep breath. “Fine, Waylon. That’s nice. That’s very nice. Now, does anyone else have anything positive they want to say?” Edward’s hand shot up. “For the love of God, anyone other than Edward?”

Joker clicked his tongue. “Uh, uh, uh, Dr. Arkham. Remember, positivity!”

Arkham was positively sure he was about to storm out of the room, call Belle Reve and have every single one of these degenerates join Harley down south. “Fine. Ok. What do you have to say, Edward?”

Edward lowered his hand and smiled. “I’d just like to say that I really do appreciate my time in Arkham. Whenever I’m here and interact with you all, I’m reassured that I am indeed, the most brilliant criminal mind in all of Gotham.”

Harvey jumped up and threw his chair at Edward, who yelped and jumped into Jonathan’s lap to avoid it. Waylon caught the chair and threw it back, sending it flying over Harvey’s head. It hit the wall with a crash. Joker threw his head back and laughed.

“Get off me!” Jonathan shouted, shoving Edward to the floor.

“Asshole!” Edward shouted back.

“Narcissistic megalomaniac!”

“Inbred hick!”

“High school dropout!”

Edward gasped. “Jon! You promised never to tell anyone about that!”

Pamela laughed. “All that talk about being a genius, and you couldn’t even finish high school? Pathetic.”

Arkham agreed, but he needed to at least attempt to get things under control, or else the guards would come in and…actually, wait. Fuck these people. The guards could brutalize them as much as they wanted. Edward was up on his feet now and screaming in Jonathan’s face, and Jonathan was screaming right back. Waylon, Harvey, Pamela, and Joker seemed content to watch the show, Joker chiming in with his own commentary. Arnold just kept nervously watching the door.

Dr. Arkham really, really hated his job.

#fic prompts #fun with group therapy #the gotham rogues

[albatmobile]

The Art of Rehabilitating Snowbirds Chapter 23

𓅪 After not hearing from Roy or Jason for five years, you suddenly find yourself taking in extra income as a babysitter for their child.

𓅪 Rated: E | 8.3k includes: smut ur welcome, Jason and Roy being whores, Bruce and Ollie appearance

fem!Reader x Jason Todd x Roy Harper [masterlist]

Chapter 23: Love Me Like You Used To | ao3 - wattpad

The three of you stay up practically all night, talking about whatever comes to mind while sleep continues to elude your minds. 

The adrenaline has yet to wear off and you still feel like there’s so much to be said, yet the three of you continue to talk about the dumbest shit just like you had back in high school. 

You all take turns saying the most ridiculous, slap-happy influenced bullshit to see who will laugh the hardest, Jason being the hardest nut to crack, of course. Eventually, around five, you all tire out.

“You know,” Roy yawns, leaning his head on your shoulder. “Damian has that Cali king in our room.” 

“I remember.” You’d just been in there the other night. It’s not like the couch was exactly looking appetizing with your injury. “Your boyfriend is right here, Roy,” You chide with a light snort.

“It’s not like that, but it could be. Right, Jay?” 

Jason surprisingly winks at you, leaving you to sputter. 

It’s unfair how easily they manage to make you blush, especially now, even when you’re tired and injured. As it is, every move you make leaves your body in agonizing, stabbing pain and your eyelids can hardly remain open.

“Stop teasing me,” It comes out as more of a weak demand than anything as sleep tugs at your heavy eyelids. 

You yawn, feeling Roy’s head bob against your shoulder before resting your head atop his.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed,” It’s Roy who stirs and urges you into the room. You willingly oblige, allowing him to lead you to the mattress. 

Lian’s already passed out. Her little snores sputter out into the dark room and you try to minimize your movement to not wake her a whole hour earlier than she’d normally wake up. 

If she does end up waking up, you know none of you will be able to go to sleep for at least another hour. Your mind tiredly lists off Lian’s little quirks with a smile, knowing she’d want to be fed and entertained, meaning you’d be stuck on babysitting duty until Damian or Jon would get up.

The ache in your body and eyelids is enough incentive to keep as still as possible.

You make quick work of changing into your PJs while Jason and Roy turn around to give you space. 

It’s quite funny, in your sleep-induced state, how they still try to grant you modesty when they’ve literally seen all there is to see. Nonetheless, you appreciate the gesture. Once you’ve changed, Roy slips into bed behind you while Jason lies across from you, his fingers tickling your scalp from over Lian’s sleeping form. 

You’d always been prone to falling asleep wherever. However, after these few days of bliss with them, your body rejects anything less than being snuggled between them. 

You’re awoken what seems like minutes later by Lian’s pleas from the other room for Jon to put on Superman. 

You blearily let yourself close the new gap between you and Jason. You sleepily hike your leg in between his and snuggle your head into the crook of his neck. He stirs slightly but ultimately begins tracing up and down your arm. 

Beside you, Roy’s still conked out, laying stomach down with his arm thrown over your waist. His haphazard snores are angled into your shoulder while his legs are eagle spread across the mattress.  

Jason’s skin smells intimate, like sleep. You crave more. 

You nuzzle his neck, feeling him smile in response, “Morning.” 

He shifts, allowing your thick thigh further in between his own muscular ones. 

“Mm,” You mumble dreamily. His fingers begin tickling underneath your, well, technically his, sleep shirt. 

“You sleep alright?” Jason’s morning voice is pure sin, rumbling all the way from the pooling heat in your lower region down to your toes. You nod, smiling when his eyes briefly slide close as he fights to keep whatever lingering dregs of sleep he can before gracing you with his emerald gaze a few moments later. “Tha’sgood, babe.”

You chuckle lightly, “Yeah.” 

Your response is a breathy whisper against the roar of Roy’s deep slumber and Lian’s joyful screams in the living room. Man, coudl these Harper’s make some noise in the morning.

You shuffle closer, still feeling the weight of Roy’s arm around your waist as Jason’s left arm soon falls beside it, pulling you flush against his warm chest. Your head presses against his chest hair, looking up at his neck when you hear him yawn. 

Once he’s done, he moves his head backward a bit so that he can meet your gaze.

He seems more awake than before when he wishes you good morning and nearly kisses you before fully waking up, “Sorry.” 

Jason’s green eyes are wild as he searches your face for a response. 

You just smile tiredly in return and tug for his fingers around your waist to start tickling up your sides again. 

He smiles at your cute, early-morning behavior and easily gives in to your request. The shirt rises and with it, exposing your panties. Jason continues his ticklish sensations. Unbeknownst to him, his ministrations are causing other things to tickle at the same time.

“I wouldn’t have minded, you know.” 

“Oh?” He blinks back at you slowly, like he still thinks he might be in the midst of dreaming. His motions on your soft skin cease so swiftly you almost miss it before they resume like they’d never stopped.

You can’t help but bite your lip at the deep timber of his voice while you’re in such an intimate position like this. 

Your eyes flick back down to the safety of his chest, unable to face the intensity behind his slitted eyes. “Jay?” 

You hear him gulp, wondering just what kind of effect you’re having on him, all while trying to hide his obvious one on you.

Your nickname is a hushed response back. 

His rough fingers trail down, drawing his shirt on you down with it. He comes to a light stop right above the waistband of your thong with a hypnotizing barely there pressure. You need more. You need the pads of his fingertips to go lower and lower until they… 

You unwittingly buck into the touch and gasp with embarrassment. He doesn’t allow you to drown in it for too long, however. The gentle pressure lifts as his fingers move to caress under your chin, motioning it upward. You give in easily, though the heat on your cheeks prevents you from looking at him again quite yet.

When you finally gain the courage to look at him, you can’t help the look of absolute wonder on your face as you explore his face for any sign of resistance. Yes, he’d already kissed you, but it’d been in the midst of all the recent stress and chaos. Who’s to say that this isn’t just another one-off event? 

“I don’t think,” You finally muster after a few seconds of studying his expression. ‘I don’t think I can hold back anymore,’ is what you want to say, but your lips refuse to reveal your cards just yet. Your bottom lip trembles as an overwhelming surge of lust and anticipation after years of this chase takes hold of you. “I can’t think,” You whimper, hoping he’ll somehow understand this all means you really want his tongue in your mouth like, five years ago. Now, though… Now is the next best thing. “Please, no more teasing me.”

Jason’s eyes widen. 

His fingers trickle further up your jawline at a tantalizingly slow pace. The deliberate touch draws your face closer to his on the pillow with every catch of his callouses against your soft cheeks. 

Where Roy’s lips are chapped, his hands have always been surprisingly soft. Jason, on the other hand, Jason’s lips have always been smooth and supple, but his hands are rough and calloused.

“No more,” He agrees lowly. 

It’s your turn to look surprised, “Really?”

He leans down, lips brushing lightly against your forehead as his next words send you over the edge of no return, “I promise,” He places a gentle kiss where his lips have been resting before moving further down to kiss at the tip of your nose. “Anything you want, you can have, babe. Just say the words.”

Your one hand rests on his sculpted stomach while your other hand mimics his own and rests along his chiseled jawline. He’d always looked like one of those Greek statues in Damian’s art books, but his scars and iridescent jewel-toned eyes put him in an entirely different category. Jason’s beauty is truly that of a god, which no marble nor sculptor could ever do justice.

“I can’t wait anymore,” You breathe out, feeling relief with each word that pushes past the anticipation lodged in your throat. “Please,” You beg. “Please, don’t make me wait for you any longer, Jay. Please, I can’t…” You trail off at the same time he seems to snap.

Jason groans, finally ducking his head down to meet your lips and give you exactly what you’ve been aching for.

It’s at this exact moment that Roy snorts awake with a jolt, moving to drowsily spoon you like he had last night, just as your lips finally brush against Jason’s. 

Roy’s unexpected touch causes you to startle backward into his morning wood with a tiny yelp. Upon contact with his heavy, clothed member, you arch your back, blushing when you realize what you’ve just done.

He winces as if you’d hurt him, then wiggles back against you, “Oh, man, princess. I forgot you were here.” 

You’re still very much entangled with his boyfriend right in front of him, though he seems more interested by the situation than upset by it. 

“Gee, thanks, Roy.” 

“Just playing, baby,” He makes to spoon you but stops just short of fully pressing himself against your back. All the while, Jason’s slitted green eyes stare the two of you down with sleepy interest. “This okay?” Does Roy mean spooning you, or the fact his morning wood is now directly pressed up against your bare ass. 

Maybe it’s the fact that you’re all three dancing around the idea of fucking? Well, at least you’re dancing around the idea and have to remind yourself that they’re the ones who are dating, not you. 

Something does feel different in the air after last night, though. 

It’s as if the floodgates have finally opened and yet, even though you now feel like you can be completely open and vulnerable with them, you still don’t exactly know where you stand relationship-wise with them. Frankly, you’re too scared to ask. 

You bite at your lower lip when his dick twitches against you and can’t help but nod. Your answer escapes your lips in a gasp, “Yes.”

Jason’s eyes flick upward and you know he and Roy are doing that annoying ass eye-communication-thing they do so well before they’re both closing in on you. 

Your stomach flips as the reality of the situation comes crashing down on you like a tidal wave.

Roy clears his throat. Your whole body goes tense, waiting for them to throw you out of the room, but it never comes. Instead, you’re met with his gruff, morning voice. It’s not fair the things it’s stirring inside yourself. 

“Do you want us?” His words alone are enough that you feel a rush of wetness seep onto your thighs. “Because we reallywant you, baby.”

They forcibly remain still on the mattress as they await your answer.

You can’t help but gulp around the excitement that it’s finally, finally happening.

Your hands grip the sheets as you grind back into Roy. At the same time, you tug Jason’s abs flush against your tits.

It’s not enough of an answer, apparently.

“We’re gonna need to hear that pretty voice, babe,” His voice sounds barely restrained as it lewdly tickles against your ears.

“Loud and clear,” Roy adds as a hot whisper against the shell of your ear. “You can do that for us, can’t you?” Your breath hitches in your throat, “Or are you going to be a bad girl?”

Your legs tremble, wanting so badly to flip on your back and spread yourself for both of them right then and there, but you’ve been patient- so fucking patient. The least you can do is return the favor of all their teasing and blue balls for a few moments more.

“What if I don’t want to be bad?” Your eyes slowly trail up Jason’s chiseled abdomen, lit up like a work of Michelangelo’s in the morning sun. “What if all I’ve been trying to do is be a good girl for the two of you.” 

You notice Jason’s eyes flicking up greedily to meet Roy’s and wonder if you’ve said something wrong.

You’re quickly assured that, no, you haven’t said anything wrong when Jason takes the lead and flips you on your side to pin you against the mattress. It happens so fast that you’re left staring up at him in brief confusion, then arousal as one of Jason’s thick thighs slots deliciously between your own.

“I like good girls,” Jason says your name with his heavy eyes boring into you like loaded guns, shooting fire all the way down to your aching wetness. “I like ‘em a lot,” The last part of his sentence is grumbled against your neck as he steadily makes his way toward your gasping mouth. 

It’s everything you’ve known you needed and so much more.

Your heart pours itself into the kiss, gliding against his plump lips like they’re your lifeline. 

A steady pouring of adrenaline leaves you nearly shaking after having waited so many fucking YEARS for this kind of clarity. No, for this kind of relief. 

It’s finally yours for the taking and, boy, do you take.

The flood walls finally give way, bursting as both of them descend upon you, taking turns sucking your lips until they’re swollen up like a sex doll.

Roy’s still lying on his side as he caresses your cheek and leverages your head to get a deeper angle. His hand tantalizingly trickles up your thigh to rest at the small of your waist while he gives you exactly what you want. 

“You’re perfect, princess,” He gasps once Jason cups your cheek to move your lips back to his. This is how it continues until Roy finally has the courage to bare himself completely. “What?” He says, covering his dick when you and Jason break away to stare at the latest development.

“Roy,” You gasped, staring at him in shock, openly taking in his, well, everything for the first time since the showers. This time, his pink-tipped cock bounces up and down under your inspection. 

Jason looks down at you, then at Roy as if, for once, they’re the ones who are unable to read you.

“Like what you see?” He’s smirking like usual, but it lacks its usual charm. There’s no way he’s actually self-conscious right now, right? 

You gulp, realizing they’re way out of your league, yet they’re just as self-conscious as you’re feeling. 

“I always have.”

Roy smirks, “Have a thing for redheads, then?”

“Yeah,” You nod easily, “and their angsty boyfriends.” 

Jason chuckles lowly, but Roy looks downright devilish now.

You’ve obviously quelled any remaining timidness as he slinks toward you, smirking like the cat who got the cream. Roy straddles your waist with his cock slipping ever so slightly through your slick folds before his slit rubs against your sensitive nub. You throw your head back at the contact with a pathetic moan that has Jason on your lips in an instant.

His strong hand slides up your neck, securing his hold around it into the kiss as Roy grinds against your twitching cunt. 

“Jay,” He moans when you grind up to meet his thrust. The tip of his cock catches on your entrance, nearly pushing in. You break away from the kiss with a shocked gasp, arching up off the mattress.

Jason rips your shirt off of you, literally rips it from your body. You and Roy stare at him in shock, but he just shrugs, “What?”

The three of you all seem to realize at the same time that your tits are now fully exposed and waste no time descending upon them. Each of them taunts your nipples at a different pace, with different strokes, but at the same time. 

“Fuck,” You need relief, so your hand travels downward only to be stopped by Jason’s calloused hands. 

“I thought you said you were a good girl, babe,” His eyes sear into yours with a playful glint flashing across their emerald surface. “Or did you tell daddy a lie?” His mouth hovers tantalizingly close to your erect bud while he awaits your answer. 

“I-” For the first time in your life, you’re rendered speechless as these two god-like men ravenously stare down at your naked body, eyeing you up like prey.

Roy smirks over at Jason, coming out slightly slurred as if he's already drunk on sex, “She’s speechless, Jay.”

Your eyes narrow, “Shut it, Harper.” 

He may have his dick sliding against the wet folds of your cunt, but you aren’t so desperate as to let him talk shit.

His mouth obediently snaps shut at the same time Jason laughs. 

Your clit is desperate to be touched and you feel half delirious because of it. Roy seems to understand because he slithers down your stomach and positions himself between your legs, restraining them in his strong grip to prevent you from closing them.

“I’ll shut up and eat your pussy, princess. That works for me, too.”

“Good,” You nod down at him, tangling his fiery locks in between your fingers to tug him close to where you so desperately need him. He groans as he mouths against your lips, barely flicking at your clit just to be a dick. It leaves you a panting mess, nonetheless, as his slow, deliberate laps at your cunt leave you wriggling against his boyfriend’s chest. 

Jason moves from the side of you, removing his boxers as he does so, to trap your head between his deliciously scarred thighs. For the first time, you come face to face, well, face to dick with his eye-widening member. 

You can’t help but stare at what you’ve only ever imagined.

It’s thick, veiny and fucking perfect. 

You need it shoved down your throat, stat.

Your mouth unwittingly opens and he needs no further encouragement than to settle his hefty cock onto your willing tongue. You nearly go cross-eyed when his length breaches against the back of your throat. You obediently swallow around it, feeling tears tinge in the corners of your eyes at the challenging stretch.

At the same time, Roy knows exactly all the angles and pressure to use on you to make you a withering mess in mere seconds. You’ve never felt anything like it before and you’re seriously worried you’re going to come before either of them even get the chance to fuck you. Carefully, his thick fingers add one after the other into your tight heat, plunging in and out as he stretches you obscenely. 

You take Jason’s dick like a champ, swallowing it all the way to the base with every demanding thrust he sends your way. You find yourself actually enjoying the pain as your mouth stretches and drools around his thick cock. It probably helps that Roy’s making an absolute mess of your cunt with every barrage of fast flicks and slow, flat licks that leave you a gurgling mess against Jason’s thrusts.

It’s too much and Roy seems to know it with your sporadic thrusts against his slick-coated mouth. He smacks Jason on the ass, sending his cock all the way to the back of your throat. You nearly scream at the obscene pressure, teary eyes never leaving Jason’s green ones all the while.

You mumble sadly around Jason’s member when Roy’s mouth removes itself from you with a loud slurp. His fingers gently follow soon after, leaving you feeling completely empty. Jason seems to understand what this means and moves to lie beside you with a wink.

“You ready for what’s next, babe?”

What’s next?

Your blown-out eyes nod dumbly, causing both of them to chuckle at your uncharacteristic quietness. 

Roy’s eyes impishly flash between your naked bodies like it’s Christmas morning. “How you wanna do this, Jay?”

You watch as Jason’s dick twitches, “Just like how we always talked about, love.”

Roy smirks and smacks lightly at your hip. You give him a confused look but rise to your knees nonetheless. 

“Follow my lead, princess.” You watch as Roy spreads his legs across Jason’s upper thighs so their cocks bounce against each other. Roy motions for you to come closer and, when you do, his hand covers yours and drags it over to their leaking tips. 

You don’t need his help to know what’s next.

Timidly, you wrap your lithe fingers around the impressive girth of their combined erections and begin to beat them off together. You wonder if you’re even doing it right when Roy throws his head back and moans like an absolute whore, something you and Jason share an amused look at. The look only lasts for so long before you feel your face flush.

“You like that, baby?” You bite your lip, turning to face Jason’s lust-drunk eyes. “You like making Roy come undone like the slut he is?” Roy groans appreciatively.

Jason’s words spur your hands into a frantic pace that leaves both of them fucking desperately up into your fist for more delicious friction. As if it’s too much, Jason motions to Roy and Roy stops your hand mid-jerk.

Jason shifts so he’s half-propped up by the headboard, looking absolutely pleased with his arms tucked behind his head while Roy situates your dripping cunt over his cock. When you slowly sink down on his length, growing accustomed to the stretch as you do, Jason can hardly stop himself from bucking up into your tight heat had Roy’s sturdy hands not remained on either side of his hip bones. 

You’re definitely happy Roy had fingered you as much as he had earlier. It makes what’s happening now a hell of a lot more pleasurable. You take your time as the uncomfortableness soon turns to pleasure with help from their tantalizing touches as you slowly sink further down on Jason’s cock. 

They don’t seem to mind how long it’s taking at all. If anything, it seems like they’re grateful for the slowdown in pace, if only to last longer once you finally reach his base.

Once you grow accustomed to the intense stretched feeling, you gently rest back on Roy’s freckled thighs, which are spread similarly to yours, across Jason’s thick thighs.

“Tell me,” Roy whispers your name against the shell of your ear from behind. Jason begins to thrust in and out of you, carefully watching your every minute reaction. “Did you fantasize about this?” He groans at a particular thrust. “Did you imagine getting stuffed by me and Jay, baby? So full and so good for us just like this, princess?”

“YES!” Roy’s hand snakes around to flick your clit cruelly. “Fuck, yes. I did.” You feel droll spilling from the corner of your mouth, but Jason easily wipes it with his thumb and a Cheshire grin. “You both know I did.”

It seems like you aren’t the only one who’s fantasized about this if their desperate, pleased reactions are anything to go by.

“Shit,” Roy groans as he lines himself up with your twitching hole. “You don’t know how many wet dreams I’ve had about this.”

“Enough to force us to get new sheets every year,” Jason rolls his eyes, moving his hands to support some of your weight as Roy’s cock begins to rub against your slick slit.

“Jay,” Roy whines like the brat he is. “Fuck, I don’t think I’m going to fit.” You feel more than see his head resting against the back of yours as he restrains himself from tearing straight into you. “Your pussy’s too tight for us, baby.”

You whimper as the head of his cock hardly has enough room, with Jason’s thick member already engulfing the majority of your cunt. 

“That’s so fucking hot,” You cover your mouth as soon as the words escape your mouth, but Jason’s already there, removing your hands from your mouth. 

“We want to hear everything,” Jason’s dark, domineering tone drips around your name, thick like honey. “We want you to give us everything, babe. All of it.”

It’s enough to unleash a sputtered moan that you wish you could cover up but don’t. Jason seems to recognize this and coos lightly with simmering praise that leaves you dripping on Roy’s cock steadily slipping into your wet heat right alongside Jason’s.

“Fuck,” It comes out barely as a breath as your head knocks back into Roy’s once he’s fully situated inside of you. “I don’t wanna come yet,” You shake your head desperately while Jason drinks in your reaction with thirsty, verdant eyes. “Please,” You beg them. “I can’t come yet, please!” 

You’re completely stuffed with both of their thick lengths pushing into every possible wall inside of you. You could come right here and now with this overwhelming sensation alone, but once they start thrusting into you, you know you’re not going to last long.

Your desperate whines and whimpers fall on deaf ears as they continue their ruthless assault on your cunt, barely leaving you time to breathe with each purposeful thrust they shudder into you.

Jason removes his hands to situate themselves behind his head, watching you ride him while Roy fucks into you from behind.

You don’t think you’ve managed to stop moaning for even a millisecond since Roy’s pink-tipped dick slipped inside your already-filled pussy. His head pathetically splayed across your shoulder, panting like he’s barely holding himself back from fully ravaging your pussy.

That won’t do.

“Give it to me, Roy.” Jason groans at the same time Roy does. Both of them buck into you simultaneously, leaving you to see stars. You can’t even begin to attempt to cover your screams as they ring out across the expanse of the room. It feels like nothing you’ve ever experienced before and your body reacts openly because of it.

Roy’s hand still rubs at your clit, while the other snakes around your front to jiggle your tits. You watch as they bounce up and down with each pump and your hips sputter when his fingers flick at your nipples. You clench down around them as you stave off your orgasm for another moment longer, but it’s in vain.

You’re coming, falling backward into Roy’s sturdy chest as you spasm on their dicks, never fully pulling off. You’re shaking into Roy’s hold around you. The redhead steadies you as your arousal cools and simmers back in the bottom of your stomach. 

This, however, doesn’t stop Jason from continuing to fuck into you.

Hell, he doesn’t even slow his thrusts as he continues to fuck into you with a dazed look settled across his half-lidded eyes. He bites his lip as he and Roy fuck your come into you with their own precome adding to the lewd syrup drizzling from your squelching hole with each thrust.

Jason seems lucid as he watches Roy fondle your abused tits, leaving you to writhe against him whorishly as he brings you close to the edge again. Jason himself doesn’t look too far off either, as his small gasps and grunts become more frequent and more desperate.

Roy’s breath fans across your neck in small puffs as he makes cruel work of your overly sensitive nub. 

You come again with a pained cry, arching your back with your eyes crossing as they milk every last drop of come from you. Roy fucks into you as Jason’s sinking out of you. 

This is how they continue until you’re stuffed with both of their come. Both you and Roy fall forward, completely spent, onto Jason’s toned chest.  

Jason’s panting beneath your weight when he finally speaks up, “Was it everything you imagined?”

You’re still catching your breath as you consider your answer. 

Your pussy aches pleasantly, you’re completely fucked out and the two men you’ve always loved are the reason for it all.

“Fuck yeah, Jay.”

Roy groans and you feel his dick twitch against your ass in interest. 

You end up going a few more rounds before you’re all entirely spent. You wash each other off in Damian’s rich-ass shower before joining Jon, Damian and Lian in the living room.

“I’ve never known either of you to sleep in so long,” Damian’s stare is pointed at both Jason and you.

You shrug, blushing. 

“Babe’s still speechless, Jay,” Roy smirks, freckled cheeks still lit up with the red heat of sex. One searing look his way, though and he concedes, easily throwing up his hands in faux-surrender. 

Words escape you and you have no interest in opening your mouth and babbling like an idiot, which will inevitably happen if you do.

Jon hangs out with you, Jason, Roy and Lian, even going so far as to offer to watch her with Damian so you guys can start on a plan. Eventually, it’s decided that Arsenal and Red Hood will search for your parents and leads into who all had been contracted but ultimately lost Deadshot’s trail. 

Meanwhile, you try to trace him but keep running into Belle Reve’s annoying ass firewall. 

Further digging brings up something called-

“Task Force X?” You squint your eyes at the screen, trying to make sense of the name. After hours of research, you give up and pass along the information. 

Apparently, they can both make sense of the connection and this earns you the title of ‘their oracle.’ 

Once you’re finished, Lian’s itching to get outside, so the three of you relieve Jon of his babysitting duties to take her to Gotham Botanical Gardens.

You can’t help but be reminded of the last time you were here with Jason and Roy after their kiss and subsequent weirdness. Coupled with this morning’s predicament, you couldn’t help but be amused by your current predicament all these years later.

Here you are, hours post-sex with them, yet you can’t help but feel like your insecure fifteen-year-old self around them. 

As if repeating how Jason and Roy had split off from each other to brood in silence all those years ago, you remain somewhat distant from the three of them without even meaning to.

You’re still hesitant around them and you’re pretty sure they can tell because now they’re giving you even more space. It’s a good sign that they aren’t currently arguing about you impeding on their relationship. 

They seem fine, but you can’t be sure. 

They don’t mention anything to you, so you continue to walk on eggshells around your feelings for both of them.

You just hope they won’t notice.

Jason and Roy have Lian, all hand-in-hand, walking around the botanical gardens all hand as you trail behind them. You don’t even realize you’re wringing your hands until Roy’s freckled hand stops the movement.

Roy glances at you with a curious, raised brow, “You know, you can totally join in on this, princess. Just say the word.” 

You wince at being caught, “I wouldn’t want to intrude.” 

Roy chuckles and Jason turns around to give you a look you’re starting to get familiar with. Instead of saying anything further, Jason reaches his free hand out for you.

You stare at it as if it’s going to hurt you and aren’t able to school your response before Jason can notice. His hand falters briefly before you grab it and lace your fingers in between his automatically.

You understand that, yes, they had sex with you- you just don’t understand what it means, never mind where the three of you go from here. It’s not like they’re exactly screaming your relationship status from the rooftops.

Jason squeezes your hand before you can spiral too far into your doubts. Instead, he draws your attention to the butterflies that suddenly flock around you. 

Lian giggles at the sight of butterflies flitting about your hair, “You have a butterfly crown!”

“A true princess,” Roy winks, moving beside you to hold your free hand while Lian skips around close by. “Definitely a different vibe from when me and Jay were arguing and shit here, don’t you think?”

You’re definitely in a better place in life now than you were back then, even with all this crazy shit going on.

Maybe the hesitancy is all in your head. Maybe there’s truly no reason for your insecurity.

With both of their hands securely wrapped around yours, you allow yourself to believe it. Even if it’s only for today, you do believe it.

“Definitely,” You agree, squeezing both of their hands at the same time. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to smiling this hard.

Lian quickly becomes distracted by the ice cream stand a few yards off the main garden path. You take up Lian-duty as you quickly follow behind her before she can get too far away.

When you turn around, you’re met with a familiar face talking to Jason and Roy- Deadshot. 

You quickly steer Lian’s attention toward the ice cream man, which isn’t too difficult. The entire time, though, you can’t deny the pressing feeling of eyes on your back. After ordering and waiting a few minutes, you finally gain the courage to check behind you to find Deadshot gone.

You give Lian her ice cream cone, hoping it’ll be enough to keep her preoccupied enough while you and her dads reconvene.

Jason and Roy are deep in conversation as you and Lian approach. They only briefly stop to let you know he hasn’t been asked to renew the contract against you, meaning they’ve most likely dropped it.

“Probably realized it was more expensive to hire mercenaries than whatever payout they’d receive from you.” 

That’s too easy.

Nothing is ever easy with them.

“Or they’re waiting it out,” You surmise.

Roy seems confused, “Why would they keep trying to kill you?” 

“I think I’m their only failsafe.” You sigh, “I mean, all they’ve ever cared about is money and it’s the one thing they’ve never securely had.”

“Pieces of shit,” Jason bangs his hand against the tree beside him like the edgelord he is. “They must be in some sort of trouble to go to their last resort,” His eyes knit together in concentration as he ponders the next move, “Maybe we could barter with them?” 

You think back to their cruel, cold nature. “They do just want money.” It’s all they’ve ever wanted, but it’s still something that seemed to elude them like a curse. 

“Well, then, sweetheart, we’re probably two good people to know,” Roy wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Well, not exactly us, but close!” 

•••

That same day, you find yourself in a meeting at Wayne Industries with Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen. The CEO suite is at the top of the building and requires the front desk assistant to insert a key in the elevator to reach the level. 

“Have you ever been to your dad’s work before?” You look up at Jason innocently. 

His eyes flicker down to yours briefly before focusing back on the climbing numbers on the screen, “No.”

Before you can question him further, the doors ding and slide open to reveal wall-to-floor windows overlooking all of Gotham. 

“Oh, no way!” A smile spreads across your face as you take in Bruce’s impressive office.

“Yeah,” Oliver fiddles slightly with his mustache, “Queen Industries doesn’t really dedicate an entire floor to my office,” He clears his throat obnoxiously before stage whispering to you from behind his hand. “More like two floors, not bragging, though. We wouldn’t want Bats over there to get too jealous, now would we?” He winks at Bruce’s unimpressed deadpan. “Anyway, nice to see ya again, little missy. Still a spitfire as ever, I presume?” He gives you a tiny noogie with his hand that you quickly slap away. He hisses, withdrawing his touch immediately, “I’m gonna take that as a yes, then.”

You can’t help but laugh at his tenacity.

Though your past self would be flipping out that you’re standing right in front of Green Arrow, you’re more preoccupied with the danger at hand to feel anything other than anxiety. 

“Nice to see you again, too, Mr. Harper.” The atmosphere in the room turns awkward and you quickly look around for an answer as to why, “What?”

“It’s called Queen Industries for a reason, kid,” Your brows furrow in confusion. “I’m just his adopted dad,” He subconsciously runs a hand through his hair, “Guess we never really got around to talking about changing your last name or not, did we, kid?” He shoots a sad smile Roy’s way, but Roy’s gaze refuses to lift from the marble floor.

“So, the money,” Jason steps in to get the conversation on track.

Roy seems to breathe a sigh of relief at the shift in conversation.

Bruce, who’s remained largely unnoticed the entire time, now takes the center of the room, seeming to call the meeting to order. You were only ever used to seeing Bruce around the manor, never during his business hours.

His crisp suit complied with his slicked-back hair meant Bruce was fully in character. 

Well, his other character.

Jason’s eyes are off toward the windows, but Roy’s staring Bruce down as he rehashes the situation to them. There’s no real malice behind his eyes, but the challenge is evident. 

“We have two options: either A. we take them down,” Roy makes to list off on his fingers, but Bruce’s unimpressed face briefly stops him.

“No killing,” Bruce interrupts.

Roy continues on like Bruce hadn’t just cut him off, “Or B. bribe them.”

“I don’t barter with terrorists,” Bruce’s tone leaves no room for negotiation.

You look at Jason, wondering how his wonderful plan is actually going to work if one of the main proponents is out within seconds of hearing your pitch. 

It’s time to pivot, but you can’t help but feel a bit scorned at him for turning it all down so easily with, quite literally, your life on the line.

“So,” You drawl, looking up at the ceiling as if deep in thought, “If you don’t barter and you don’t kill, what exactly do you do? Because it seems to be a whole lot of nothing.” 

By now, you’re staring at Bruce again, trying to ignore how the rest of the room’s mouths are on the floor. 

Hey, it’s life or death. If someone’s going to stand the fuck up, it may as well be you. Seriously, talk about advocating for yourself.

Ollie’s previously upset face morphs into a wicked smile directed Bruce’s way that you can tell the other man is purposefully ignoring.

“Don’t forget you’re asking me for my help,” Bruce quirks an amused brow at you. “For my money, too, not to mention.” 

“And mine!” Ollie butts in with his finger held high in the air, demanding his presence also be recognized. “Which,” He nods toward Bruce’s daunting form, “unfortunately, I am also not keen on giving for the same reasons.”

“Alright, so, what exactly do you both,” You look pointedly at Ollie before turning back to Bruce, “recommend that I do, then?”

Bruce takes you in for a moment, almost like he’s proud of you, though surely you’re reading too much into it. He stands up from his desk, coming around it slowly while his gruff voice rumbles out wisdom that could only come from his alter ego’s past experience. 

“If you give them the money,” He stops and leans against the desk, crossing his arms across his chest as he does, “it will only prolong them for so long. Money is the easiest bargaining chip, but it’s always temporary,” His eyes bear into yours as he watches you attempt to put together the puzzle. “They’ll always come back searching for more until the inevitable happens.” He stops, pursing his lips a bit before continuing, “All this, of course, assuming that money truly is their endgame.” 

You stare at him like he just dropped a bomb. This information is coming from the world’s greatest detective, so you listen to every single word he’s saying earnestly. 

Here, you’re truly able to see where Bruce and Batman collide.

You tirelessly search your mind to try to think of other possible motives but quickly reach a wall.

Jason huffs frustratedly, but you stop him before he can speak, “No, Bruce is right.” With everyone’s attention on you, you can’t allow yourself to crumble. “It has to go deeper,” A pensive hand rests under your chin as you continue to dig deep. “But how do we find out more?”

Bruce stops leaning against his desk and moves back around it to face out the window. Ollie rolls his eyes at the dramatic action but still attempts to replicate a mysterious pose, much to your amusement. 

It’s completely quiet in Bruce’s soundproof CEO suite atop Wayne Tower, but you can practically hear everyone’s thoughts bouncing off the walls.

“I may be able to help you there,” Bruce says with a quirk of his lips. He slightly turns his face from the window to meet yours, “I think I know a guy.”

All the men in the room groan at his cheesy line, but internally, you’re fangirling hard.

“Oh, jeez,” Ollie groans.

You watch as he types something into his phone and, moments later, the elevator springs back open to reveal…

“Damian?” You rush forward to greet him, albeit with a questioning gaze.

He kisses you on your cheeks, muttering your name in greeting before stepping into view of the rest of the room. “You called, father?”

“Oh, this is just fantastic,” Jason mutters to Roy. Their arms are crossed defensively over their chests at the sight of Damian in a pressed, navy suit and slicked-back hair. He looked like a literal matryoshka of Bruce. “I thought this was a closed meeting, Bruce,” Jason hisses out his father’s name like a curse.

“You’re looking at Wayne Enterprise’s new director of the R&D department.” 

Holy shit.

“You’re leading Research and Development?” You look over at your friend incredulously. “That’s awesome!” He smiles and looks at Bruce briefly before his eyes land back on you. “I definitely want to see what you have hiding down there.”

“Someday soon,” Damian promises. “Until then, you’ll need a secured place to stay while I set about repairs on the penthouse. Shouldn’t be long, anyway.”

•••

“I just don’t see why we need to stay at the manor,” Roy huffs as he packs up whatever clothes he’d actually managed to unpack in the first place. Jason sighs, coming to resituate Roy’s bag in a more orderly fashion. “Even if it’s just for a night or two, we should’ve just robbed your dad and bounced.”

“Do you even hear yourself, dumbass?” Jason chides him before snatching the boxers Roy was scrunching up out of his hands to refold and repack. “What kind of shitty plan would that be?” Roy wrinkles his freckled nose, “Not morally, jesus. I just mean, logically, what sense would that make?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Roy mutters, flopping on the bed beside you. He’s apparently resigned to allow Jason to take over packing duties, though you think Jason probably prefers it that way, anyway. “Gettin’ soft on ol’ Batsy. Don’t worry, I won’t tell him.”

“Shut up,” Jason hisses with a glare that stops even you in your tracks.

“Scouts honor,” Roy continues to tease until Jason smacks him with the first article of clothing he can find in the unfolded pile on the floor, which just so happens to be one of your thongs. Your face flares red when Roy picks it up and inhales your scent with a pleased groan. He looks around at Jason and your aghast faces and challenges the two of you, “What?” You snort, “What?!” He asks again with more desperation, looking to Jason for support but finding none.

•••

You gleefully skip with Lian as you give her the rundown of the mansion. Though you haven’t really been here much since high school, you still know your way around the intricate mahogany walls of Wayne Manor. 

Meanwhile, Jason and Roy busied themselves with toting around the luggage and Alfred had already become preoccupied with cooking dinner. This left you to show the bouncing kid around.

You take her to the library, where you’re affronted with memories of passion, confusion and a cacophony of hormones. Then to the gym, where you’d faced a nearly intolerable amount of pain and exertion to be able to protect Lian the way you do now.

You decide to mess around a bit with their sparring equipment while Lian distracts herself with the colorful resistance bands that are scattered near the door. You giggle at her little grunts of frustration as she teeters around with the bands on the floor.

While you’re deep in routine, you don’t even realize she’s wandered off until you hear her loud gasp.

You quickly turn around, only to find the room empty and panic. Though, how much trouble could a toddler really get into at Wayne Manor? Never mind, you think, as the thought alone only increases your panic.

“Lian?!” You call out, wandering the labyrinth of halls until you finally catch sight of her little pigtails. 

Lian manages to stumble into the only room you’ve been wanting to avoid.

Damian’s old art room.

It’s largely untouched, with white cloths covering the various easels. The furniture and the bookshelves seem relatively kept up without much dust littering their mahogany shelves. Only one painting remains uncovered and Lian quickly makes her way over to it. Your eyes follow her to her destination, locking onto the canvas.

There, across the room, is the familiar painting depicting your first visit to Wayne Manor. 

Upon closer inspection, a thick layer of dust has accumulated on the piece that you’d last seen drying, feeling sickening nostalgia stirring in the bottom of your stomach. It’s a bittersweet reminder of just how much has changed and, yet, how it’s all still the same.

“You look beautiful,” Lian grabs the picture and holds it close to her face to inspect it. You can’t help but become mesmerized by the once-familiar strokes. “Did daddies make you?”

“No,” You answer, still distracted by the acrylic work, “Uncle Damian.”

You look so young, so innocent and naive of what was to come. Sometimes you wish you could go back to that sweet ignorance only youth brings, but you wouldn’t trade where you are right for anything- even with all the new danger.

“Oh,” She puts a finger near her mouth like she’s thinking about the implications before it slides into her mouth and she begins to bite at it. “I want to paint too.”

You can’t help but giggle at her adorableness, “We will soon, okay?”

“Okay, mommy.”

You place the canvas back with gentle care, giving it one last look over.

They find the two of you in the game room twenty minutes later, watching Ponyo. 

Lian’s sitting right up next to the screen to watch while you’re splayed across one of the couches. Roy easily comes, lifting you up and settling beneath your body with a pleased groan. Meanwhile, Jason scoops Lian up to snuggle on the other couch. She tries to protest and go back to her spot, but Jason chides her. 

“Sitting that close isn’t good for your neck, baby.”

“That’s shoot,” She pouts grumpily.

“Hey,” Roy’s chest vibrates below you, “no cursing.”

She gawks, “You said it wasn’t a curse!”

You try your best to hide your smile but find the whole thing too fucking cute to stop it from gracing your face.

Roy sighs, “We’re not doing this right now, Lian. Daddies are tired,” He elevates your legs that lie atop his onto the arm of the couch as if to prove his point.

She huffs, crossing her arms adorably under her chin with puffed-out cheeks, “One day, I will curse.”

A threat and a promise the three of you know she’ll keep.

Before Roy can retort, Alfred’s at the stairs announcing dinner. 

He looks at her as if to say she was saved by the bell, but Lian’s already proudly looking at him in Jason’s lap like she knows. It’s here you’re able to see her mother shining through and can’t help but smile. 

On Lian, it’s cute. On Cheshire… not so much.

“Feels just like old times, kinda,” Roy rubs a sheepish hand through his locks. He gathers Lian in his arms from Jason while the latter guides the three of you out of the room and down into the dining room. “But, like, complete.”

That basically sums it all up.

“Yeah,” You agree. “Now, all we need is for Jason to throw a book at me.”

“Oh, come off it. You make me seem like a fucki’-freakin’,” He shoots an apologetic look Lian’s way. “I wasn’t that bad,” He tries, refusing to concede. 

“Whatever you say,” You wink at him, causing him to blush.

Just like old times.

•••

After dinner, Roy puts Lian to bed while you and Jason tinker around in the library into the late hours of the night. 

You’re researching on one of the couches with Jason stretched stomach-side-down across your lap on his own laptop. Your laptop rests on his chiseled back while you research the account your parents had made in your name.

Roy comes in and takes over for another couple of hours while Jason’s soft snores sound from beside you until he, too, conks out.

You feel yourself start to drift off when your screen blacks out.

You sigh, moving to search for the power cord and quickly giving up. Jason’s weight on you, coupled with Roy’s weight at your feet is enough to lull you off into dream world, too. 

You forget the laptop, figuring you can just charge it in the morning and go to shut it when you see a blue error screen blinking. You wipe at your eyes, squinting as the blinking blue goes black again.

What the fuck?

You feel fully awake now as you straighten the laptop on Jason’s back to get a better view. Suddenly, the blue screen produces a place to type a password. 

The cursor innocently blinks in the box, patiently waiting for your response.

You look around the dark room as if you’ll somehow find the answer and aren’t surprised when you turn back around to the screen without it.

All the clues smash around in your panicked skull, trying to filter through each one with conviction.

Blood is thicker than water.

Life insurance policy.

What started it all?

You blink.

Your fingers hover over your keyboard as you type your full name into the password bar. You hesitate briefly, wondering if you should wake anyone up before trying to crack the code. It’s possible you’ll only get one shot at a guess, but you know deep down there’s only one possible answer.

You hit enter with a hesitant twitch of your fingers. 

You watch as the password loads, then the screen goes black again.

Your breath hitches.

There, in the top left corner of your screen, is an address.

You watch as the cursor blinks, following along with each letter that’s typed. The next sentence forms, ‘Give yourself up and no one else gets hurt.’ The cursor blinks an unknown logo before your entire laptop shuts down entirely.

You sit there, letting the moment wash over you. 

This is a chance to end everything without any casualties. Who are you to turn it down? Even earlier, when Bruce was coming up with a plan, it was obvious your chances of survival were meek. Why should anyone else suffer for something only you have the power to end?

It’s mercy and you take it.

You slip out into the cold of the night, closer and closer to the end.

You’re not scared but rather resolute with each step you take toward the end of your journey, knowing you’re making the best choice. You round another corner when you hear it- footsteps.

“There you are.” 

A/N: was it worth the wait??

[next]  ||  masterlist ||  pinned

#reader x jason todd x roy harper #reader x roy harper #jason todd x reader #reader x jason todd #my fic: the art of rehabilitating snowbirds #my fic:ars

[asa-do-your-thing]

Dreams

Chapter 05 - Jon

18+ MINORS DNI Word Count: 2.9k Chapter Warnings: angst

The haunting nightmare had returned with a vengeance. Jon felt the clammy chill of the castle walls wrap around him as he held the wailing infant in his arms. His face was caked in crimson and droplets of blood trickled from the corners of his eyes.

An eerie voice called out his name, urging him to turn around. Fearful yet determined, Jon slowly twisted his body and saw Lucie's lifeless frame crumpled on the cold stone floor, surrounded by a growing pool of her own lifeblood. The babe had stilled in his embrace, its wide eyes fixed on Jon's face - it seemed to be begging for rescue.

He took one step towards her, when an overwhelming pain surged through his chest, like a thousand arrows piercing deep into the innermost depths of his core.

Jon tried to move forward but was unable to do so, as if he was stuck in time itself. He looked down at Lucie, noticing her lifeless eyes which were still filled with love despite her death. Tears started streaming down Jon's face as he realized that it was all his fault--he had been too slow to save her; now she lay dead before him due to his negligence.

The pain in Jon's chest only intensified as he saw the babe lying helplessly next to Lucie's lifeless body, its little hands clutching her arm tightly as if begging not to be taken away from its mother even in death.

He knew he could never make up for what had happened; all he could do now was offer it some comfort by taking it away from this place of tragedy and giving it a better life elsewhere.

Waking up with a start, Jon saw the way Ghost, his direwolf, looked at him with concerned eyes and shook his head. What the hell?

He knew Lucie would get engaged to Robb at some point, yet he hadn't anticipated his mind to react in such a dastardly way. He gently scratched Ghost between his ears and groaned, running his hands through his messy hair. Maester Luwin had been right all these years ago - going to bed angry was never a good idea.

He pulled on a fresh shirt and traipsed over to his washing basin, quickly washing his sweaty face in the icy water. Lucie hadn't shown up yesterday to the library. Did something happen to her? Pulling on his breeches and lacing them, he shook his head. No, most probably Robb forbade her. He knew it wasn't just for him that she went there - it was her only place where she could talk openly about her worries. Besides, Robb did have a certain posessive streak about him, since the moment where they started... noticing women.

Throwing on the rest of his clothes, along with his sword belt and a fur cloak, he quickly fixed his dark, tousled hair and walked out of chambers down to the hall to break fast with the others. Would Lucie be there? Straightening his shoulders, he bit his tongue. Of course she'd be there, gods, she isn't married to Robb yet, she'd have no reason not to eat with everyone else.

Quickening his pace, Jon entered the dining hall and looked around for her. To his relief, she was there. She was sitting next to Robb, and the two of them were engaged in a lively conversation with Sansa, looking like the closest of family. Jon felt a stab of pain in his chest and walked over to where the food was kept on the long trestle tables.

"Hey, Jon, you look rough."

Jon turned around to see Theon standing behind him, grinning like a fool. That little prick. Jon gritted his teeth, raising his brows. "You don't look so good either, Greyjoy."

Lucie and Robb both looked up at once, glancing at each other and then back at Jon. He walked over to the table with his food, trying to make his features into an innocent expression.

"Jon." Robb got up from his seat and walked over to him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Come to my chambers later, we need to talk."

He gave Jon a hard look before turning around, and sitting back down again. Jon's body tensed up, but he collected himself, walking over to his seat and sitting down. He glanced at Lucie who had a perplexed look on her face. He gave her a small smile and she returned it, whispering something to Robb who nodded his head.

"Thank you for the meal." Jon said with a curt nod to Maester Luwin who was standing on the other side of the table.

Theon muttered an agreement which was echoed by the younger children.

Lucie glanced at the pile of eggs and bacon on his plate and gave him a smirk. Gods, that smirk... "Have you not had enough to eat, yesterday, at the feast? You look like a starving man." The lightness in her voice brought a smile to Jon's face. He hadn't heard Lucie sound so cheerful in so long.

Though he was glad that she was so content, were her joyous feelings connected to Robb? His heart grew heavy at the thought but he tried to remind himself that it wasn't his place to question her happiness. No matter what, she would soon be married and he had to quell these confusing emotions.

“Yesterday's feast had been magnificent, but today my stomach rumbles once again, Lady Lucie,” he said with a faint smile as he lifted his mug of warm beer to his lips. At the same time, he could feel Robb's looming presence in the back of his mind; nothing ever good comes from his need for further discussion. He had to force himself not to shudder at the thought.

Lucie giggled, further surprising Jon and Robb. Lucie... giggled? The two of them shared a look before Jon cleared his throat. "So... what are your plans for today?" he asked, turning back to Lucie.

"I'm going to go embroider with Sansa and Arya, I'll try to get them to stay still and not insult each other for a while," she said with a bright smile. "And then I think I'll go into the godswood and draw, I think."

Jon glanced over at Robb. "Do you want me to come with you outside? It's getting colder now, I'll try to keep your ink from freezing."

It was clear that Robb was uncomfortable by the suggestion but Lucie's face lit up. "Yes! That would be wonderful."

Jon felt his chest tighten as he watched Lucie finishing her breakfast, the motion of her lips mesmerizing him. His heart raced at the thought of touching those lips with his own, to see them wrapped around his member...

He had to force himself to look away in order to keep from thinking about these wicked things - never before had he experienced such longing and lust for someone so close yet so forbidden. He nearly choked on his thoughts as he realized that he'd never be able to escape them.

He'd never have thought that someone so dear to him could lighten up his day and dampen it at the same time just by simply existing.

Robb's voice interrupted his thoughts. "If you two are done here, I'll need to discuss something with Jon in my chambers."

Lucie nodded, pushing her chair away from the table. She grabbed Arya's hand as Sansa followed close behind them and started walking towards the door.

Jon quickly stood and followed them out of the dining hall, though he couldn't help but feel a sting of disappointment at having to leave Lucie's presence so soon. As Theon strode away, his echoing laugh reverberated through the room. "Ha! Little Snow's going to get an earful for fucking the ice-maid", he jeered mockingly.

Even through his shock, Jon couldn't help but notice Lucie's cheeks flush pink in reaction. He was furious that Theon would even suggest such a thing - did he really think it was funny?

"Shut your damned mouth before I give you one," Robb retorted and shook his head, motioning Jon to leave with him.

Ignoring Theon's comment and Robb's apologetic look, Lucie left the hall. With one final tug on Arya's hand she disappeared around the corner, which left him to follow Robb up to his chambers.

Noting the stiffness in Robb's expression, Jon was sure that he had heard Theon's comment.

"I'm glad we can talk, Jon." Robb took a deep breath as they came up the stairs to his chambers. "Please, in, in here."

Jon stood on his side of the door and waited for Robb to open it, which he did after a moment of hesitation, allowing Jon in first before closing the door behind them.

"So, uhm... never mind that." Robb said in an attempt to sound casual. "I mean, it's not important, I guess. Go on, take a seat."

Jon folded his arms over his chest, his eyes locked on Robb's. "Robb, Theon's an idiot who doesn't know what he's talking about - I can't believe that he would says something like that in front of the kids, in front of Maester Luwin."

Letting out an annoyed growl, Robb massaged his temples. "I know, I know, don't worry, I'll tell him to stop. He's been trying to suggest I fuck Lucie before our marriage so she might warm up to me, but that's just... so wrong."

Shrugging, Jon sighed. "That's Theon for you. Though most of the stuff he said probably come from his own dreams."

Robb stared at him, tilting his head. "You don't mean...?"

"I'm not saying anything," Jon said, lifting his hands in surrender. "But I think you should relax and stop worrying so much, Robb. You're too tense for courting Lucie - I honestly don't know why... uh... it doesn't work between you two."

Robb let out a deep sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "It's not that I don't like Lucie, it's just that... I feel like we barely know each other. And then there's you," he said as he turned his gaze to Jon, his eyes filled with an intensity that made Jon's heart race. "How did you manage to get so close to her, Jon?"

Jon felt his cheeks heat up, his mind racing to come up with a plausible answer. He couldn't admit to the sinful thoughts that plagued his mind whenever he was near Lucie and the fact that he didn't have to do anything special... He was just being himself.

"I... I don't know, Robb. I guess we just clicked," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Robb narrowed his eyes, his jaw clenched as he studied Jon's face. "There's something you're not telling me, Jon. I can see it in your eyes."

Jon's heart raced as he felt Robb's hand grip his shoulder tightly. "Please, Robb, let it go. It's not important."

"It is important, Jon. Lucie is going to be my wife soon and I need to know everything about her."

Jon felt a pang of jealousy and anger at Robb's words. How could he be so blind to see that Lucie that she had feelings too? Feelings that were human, like grief, anger and fear? "Why don't you just ask her then? Instead of interrogating me?"

Robb's grip on Jon's shoulder tightened, his eyes locked onto Jon's. "Because I trust you, Jon. You're my brother."

Jon could hardly breathe as Robb stepped closer to him. "It's just so confusing, Robb. I know you don't want to hurt her, but... I like her, Robb, I adore her." The words left Jon's mouth before he could stop them, but it did not matter anymore - he could not take them back.

Jon gulped, his throat dry as he watched his brother move even closer to him, his free hand lifting to Jon's other shoulder, staring down at him. "I know, Jon. I know how much you love her and I know how much you want her. But I want her too. She is mine - my betrothed."

Robb's voice was firm, yet it held a pleading tone that tugged at Jon's heart. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he felt Robb hesitantly loosen his grip on him. "Please, Jon, you're the only one who can help me with this."

Jon closed his eyes, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, Robb, I'll help you. Always." What did he get himself into? Was he mad, telling Robb about..?

"I'm so sorry, Jon. I know this must hurt you, but I need you. I need you both." His brother's hand relaxed its grip. "I know I'm being selfish, but I can't help it. I need her."

Jon opened his eyes, his heart hammering in his chest as Robb's hand lingered at his shoulder, his gaze boring into Jon's as he walked back to his chair.

Jon felt a pang of sadness rush through him as he stared at his brother's broad back. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if things were different. If Robb didn't have to marry Lucie, Jon could tell her how he truly felt and be with her like he had always wanted. But that was impossible now, Robb had chosen Lucie and there was no going back from that.

He exhaled sharply, feeling a sudden wave of admiration for Robb flood through him despite everything. His brother trusted him so much and still wanted his opinion even though Jon had revealed his true feelings about Lucie. He was so grateful for the trust between them - something that they had never really shared before - and he vowed to do whatever it takes to keep it alive. It meant more to him than anything else in the world right now, even if it meant having to put aside his own feelings about Lucie just this once.

Clearing his throat, Jon gave Robb an awkward smile. "Well, uh, now that that's settled, what would you like to know about her. I'll try my best to answer all of your questions."

Robb relaxed his shoulders, the tension leaving his body as he settled back into his chair. "Thank you, Jon. I appreciate it." He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he gazed at Jon. "So, tell me, what does Lucie like to do? What are her interests?"

Jon thought for a moment, his mind racing through all the conversations that he had had with Lucie over the past few months. "Well, she enjoys drawing and reading. She's had a lot of free time lately, so she's been trying to improve her skills."

Robb's eyes lit up, a smile forming on his lips. "That's great. Maybe I could commission her to draw something for me."

Jon nodded, a sense of relief washing over him as he talked about Lucie's hobbies. Maybe this would help Robb see her in a different light and stop worrying so much about connecting with her.

"But there's something else, too," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Lucie hates public speaking. It makes her really nervous."

Robb frowned, his brow furrowing as he looked at Jon. "Why would that matter?"

Jon shrugged. "I don't know, Robb. It's just something that I've noticed about her. Maybe you could try to avoid putting her in situations where she has to talk in front of a crowd? It seemed like you startled her greatly at the feast, when you announced your betrothal."

Robb leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping on the armrests as he thought about what Jon had just said. "I see. That's good to know. Thank you, Jon. I... uh,,, Will try to approach her in a different way. And if uh... no, you know, forget it. Shall we go and spar for a bit? This has gotten so awkward, I'm looking forward to blowing off some steam."

Jon smiled, a wave of relief washing over him as he saw his brother's tense shoulders relax. "Yes, that's a good idea." He rose to his feet, feeling a knot of tension leave his body as he stretched. "I'll meet you outside."

With a deep sigh, Jon shut the door tightly behind them and smiled as he strolled down the hall towards the courtyard.

He had done it again - helped Robb, and by extension, Lucie. He had managed to hold his feelings for her at bay, even if only for a few moments. And he knew that it was for the best because now, he could stand by Robb's side and help him truly connect with Lucie.

As Lucie and Sansa's laughter rang out in the halls, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. He had worked so hard to be in this position, to have her close to him, but now that it was within his grasp, he had to let her go. She was untouchable, and he knew he could never truly reach her.

His heart ached with every step he took, the pain growing with every breath he took, yet he felt strangely light and free. He had done it for Robb and Lucie - he had sacrificed his own happiness for theirs, it was the epitome of chivalry. And he would do it again.

#asas fics #jon snow x oc #jon snow fanfic #jon snow angst #jon snow smut #jon snow #robb stark fluff #robb stark au #robb stark x oc #robb stark fanfic #robb stark smut #asoiaf smut #asoiaf fanfic #asoiaf fanfiction #got #goth aesthetic #game of thrones

[cdragons]

The Eastern Wind & Moon Sail to Winterfell

READ THIS FOR CONTEXT

Previous Part

Summary: 美灵 (Měilíng) and 明阴 (Míng Yīn) visit House Stark after news of Jon Arryn's death and murder arrives at Winterfell. Ned Stark senses a trouble brewing in the air. Are the vultures from King's Landing circling to soon feast on his family's flesh? Is there any way to stop it? Meanwhile, the Young Wolf begins to battle his desires for the heart and affections of one tempestuous YiTish Sea Captain.

Warning(s): MDNI 18+; Canon doesn't exist here *shhhhhhhh*, Ned is having a crisis, Stannis may be OOC; Robb Stark wants to Dom the hot sea captain when he's clearly a Sub; Catelyn Stark is kind of a bitch; GOT is GOT (shit's gonna go down); Yi Tish dialogue is Bold, Italicized, and Green

Author's Note: Author hasn't seen Game of Thrones in a long-ass time, so if the characters are OOC...my bad 🤷🏻‍♀️. I used Mandarin for YiTish, and translations are at the bottom. Game of Thrones belong to GRR Martin, and the regions of Yi Ti are all credited to @anya-snow. If you liked reading this, please check out the masterlist!

Arya continually stabbed her needle in the fabric as Septa Mordane gushed over Sansa’s pretty embroidery. She looked beside her and met eyes with his youngest brother’s betrothed, Shireen Baratheon. The young girl gave an encouraging smile as she also struggled with stitching and embroidery. The young Baratheon heiress preferred to lose herself in the ancient library in Winterfell or with Maester Luwin as they discussed the history of House Targaryen.

The Stark girl smiled back at the young Baratheon. She liked Shireen very much, and thought her excellent company. At night, she would recount tales and stories her sister, Minna, shared from her travels in letters or from herself. Arya felt her mood drop again as he looked at Sansa. Shireen was so lucky to have an older sister as exciting and fun as Minna—someone who would fight and travel the world. The girls were only sisters through marriage. Shireen was from Stannis Baratheon’s first marriage, as Minna was the daughter of her mother’s first in Yi Ti, but they loved each other so fiercely that blood hardly mattered.

Minna didn’t care that Shireen was scarred from Greyscale, nor did she treat her as a pitiful creature to grow with her face. Minna and her mother, Lady Mei, loved the girl to the seven hells and back. The woman loved Shireen so much that she demanded her new husband swear that Shireen’s place as his heir would not be changed if they ever had a son. Arya still remembered the night she overheard Shireen tell Rickon how Minna told her that the gods gave Shireen her scars to prevent the Maiden from cursing her.

“Minnie told me I have the most beautiful soul,” she whispered just loud enough for Arya to hear her from outside an open door. “If I were beautiful both inside and out, the Gods would have cursed me for having too much, like Aphrodite had done to Marcaria.”

Arya bitterly continued with her stitching as a dull thud entered her ears, and she turned her head in the direction of laughter outside in the courtyard.

Bran struggled as he pulled his arm to draw out the bowstring. His older brothers, Jon and Robb, stood beside him in observation to guide his lessons while his younger brother, Rickon, sat above them on a mounted saddle. When he released the bowstring, the arrow shot up and over the target and outside the wall. He looked down in dejection as his brothers began to laugh even harder.

“And which one of you was a mark smith at ten?” his father, Lord Eddard ‘Ned’ Stark, called out above them. He and Lady Catelyn Stark, nee Tully, watched him practice. Ned Stark looked at his young son and encouraged him. “Keep practicing, Bran. Go on.”

Jon Snow lowered to whisper in Bran’s ear. “Don’t think too much about it, Bran.”

“Relax your bow arm,” remarked Robb.

Just when Bran was about to release his draw, an arrow shot past him and pierced the red center of the target. Whipping his head behind him, Bran saw it was Arya with a bow about twice her height. She curtsied with a smile before Bran went after her. She let him chase after her, and soon, they were running around the courtyard.

“Quick, Bran! Faster!” called out Jon as he and Robb watched their two siblings joyfully play.

Rickon remained seated on the mounted saddle. He looked up at the window where Sansa and Shireen should be. When his mother and father told him he would marry Stannis Baratheon’s daughter last year, his mother was enraged. He overheard Mother plead with his father to reconsider the match. She did not want her youngest boy to be with someone deformed by the gods. But Father dismissed her claims.

“Shireen Baratheon is Mei’s daughter now, and she confirmed that the girl’s illness is no longer contagious.” Ned Stark firmly stated.

“You would risk our family’s health over some foreign woman’s ‘confirmation?’’ Catelyn Stark exclaimed. “How is she to know? How can you possibly trust her words so much? A woman from a land as far as hers has no way of knowing such remedies. What if she and that girl–”

Her husband cut her off. “That’s enough, Cat. I understand your worries. I do. But I will not allow you to besmirch Mei’s and her daughter’s good names. She has been a long friend of Stannis Baratheon, and now she is his wife. She would never harm children. Never.”

He noticed his words frustrated his wife, and he placed a gentle hand on her arm before laying a soft kiss on her brow. “Mei is probably the wisest woman I have ever known. And sending Shireen with her daughter isn’t so much for an engagement – but to make her comfortable around others. The boys are long used to her sister’s presence; they will take up nicely with Shireen’s.”

And the matter was settled. Rickon remembered how Mother and Sansa kept their distance from the girl when she first arrived with Minna. Minna would only stay for the first month before leaving to travel to the Reach and then Dorne. When Shireen first approached him during Luwin’s lessons, he was amazed by the book size she was carrying. The moment she opened her mouth about things like Jin and huakaʻi pō, Rickon decided that it would make him extremely happy if he spent the rest of his life with Shireen. His mother was less than pleased and stormed off to lock herself in Winterfell’s Sept. But Father only gave Rickon a proud smile and gave his hair a good tousle.

As Ned Stark and his wife laughed at the scene, they were interrupted by the small pattering of a child’s footsteps running towards them. They turned and saw Shireen Baratheon escorted by Theon Greyjoy, the Ironborn ward. The odd pair first bowed respectfully and greeted Lord and Lady Stark with their titles before Theon stepped aside for Shireen. The young girl was beaming so widely that it warmed the old Lord’s heart. He couldn’t help but pity the child for the hand life dealt her, but it filled his heart to know that she would at least experience some kindness outside her own family.

“Ah, Lady Shireen,” he greeted the girl. “What brings you here? Come to watch Bran practice?”

Shireen shook her head. “No, my lord. I just received news from Shadow. My sister is currently docked at Dragonstone, and she, Mother, and Steffard will be arriving in White Harbor in a week’s time from tomorrow!”

Ned’s eyebrows shot up in bewilderment. “A week? From Dragonstone to White Harbor? How will they make it so fast with her crew and that giant ship of hers?”

“They won’t be coming with her,” Shireen answered. “She’s traveled to after stopping at King’s Landing. Father is Dragonstone to take care of some things while she sails alone. My sister is a very accomplished sailor blessed with the winds’ favor, my lord. I wouldn’t be surprised if she arrived here in just five days or less.”

Ned gave a loud laugh. “Knowing she’s your mother’s daughter, it wouldn’t surprise me either. Thank you for telling me.”

“I’ll be sure to prepare a guest room for them,” Lady Catelyn informed her husband before turning to Shireen. “Will your sister and Lady Baratheon bring their own handmaidens, or will they need one provided? Will your brother need a wet nurse?”

Shireen shook her head. “Oh no, my lady! My sister greatly dislikes the idea of handmaidens and ladies-in-waiting! But Minnie said that she would be bringing Wu! And my mother prefers to nurse my brother.”

Lady Catelyn Stark’s smile faltered slightly while Ned’s widened at the mention of Lady Minna’s ‘pets.’ The beasts resembled more killers than travel companions. Catelyn Stark almost preferred the ruffians that made up her crew to the animals.

Shireen turned to Theon. “Do you think Ari will enjoy spending time with another bird? I would feel awful if he became lonely from Shadow’s arrival.”

Theon gave a sincere smile to the young girl before tousling her hair. “I think nothing would make him happier, my lady. He was bored out of his mind being alone with the ravens before Baleor’s arrival. What’s one more?”

Rodrick walked up to his lord and lady to inform them that they had captured a deserter of the Wall, and they were ready to give his execution. Ned Stark’s expression became somber hearing the news as his eyes darted to the young Shireen. He ordered Theon to escort her and Rickon to Maester Luwin for their lessons before telling Robb and Jon to saddle their horses. When the Greyjoy ward left, he informed Rodrick that Bran would join them. This gave concern to his wife.

“Ned,” she pleaded. “Ten is too young to see such things.”

“He won’t be a boy forever,” her husband replied. “And winter is coming.”

Bran kept thinking about the words his father had imparted to him after he had taken off the deserter’s head with Ice.

“The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.”

It still confused him. He wanted to ask Robb when Father stopped in the middle of the road. He made a right turn toward the river. Jon was right behind Father while Bran followed. It was a direwolf! But…it was dead, and it had pups! But as excited as Bran was, he made no sound. Everyone around him was silent as they all stood in awe at the dead symbol of their house.

“It’s a freak,’ remarked Theon.

Father corrected him. ‘It’s a direwolf–” he looked at Rodrick for a moment in shock before grabbing the antler lodged in its throat “–tough old beast.”

“There are no direwolves South of the Wall,” commented Robb.

“Now there are five,” remarked Jon, picking one pup in his arms and handing it to Bran. “You want to hold it?”

The pup’s fur was white with speckles of grey across its body. Its body squirmed as it whined and whimpered at the change of its surroundings – and for the death of its mother.

Bran looked up at his brother. “Where will they go? Their mother’s dead.”

With a heavy heart, Rodrick answered the young lordling’s question. “They don’t belong down here.”

Ned Stark stood with his sword in hand. “Better a quick death. They won’t last without their mother.”

“Right,” Theon unsheathed his blade and reached for the pup in Bran’s arms. “Give it here.”

“No!” Bran cried as Theon looked mildly distressed at the boy’s plea.

“Put away your blade,” Robb commanded his friend. He didn’t like to give Theon orders – especially since the boy was more like a brother to him than just a ward his father brought from the Iron Islands, but he didn’t want to spill the direwolf pup’s blood.

Nonetheless, Robb’s words irked Theon. “I take orders from your father, not you.”

But Bran couldn’t allow the pups to die. He continued to plead with his father. “Please, Father!”

“I’m sorry, Bran.” The lord didn’t like seeing his young so upset, but he needed to understand the way of the world. It would be cruel to let the pups live – only to struggle to live and die before winter comes.

“Lord Stark–” Ned turned around to his son’s voice “–there are five pups—one for each of the Stark children. The direwolf is the sigil of your house. They were meant to have them.”

“And what about you?” thought Ned. “Are you not my child? Why should you be denied the right to wear and own the sigil of my house – your house? Even if you carry neither mine nor your mother’s name- are you still not of my blood?”

 He looked at his son with sad and hurt eyes as if reliving a memory from another lifetime ago. When everyone turned to him, waiting for an answer, he replied sternly and somberly.

“You will train them yourselves. You will feed them yourselves.” And with bitter anger on his tongue, he spat out. “And if they die, you will bury them yourselves.”

As Jon handed two more direwolf pups in Robb’s arms, Bran turned to his brother. “What about you?”

Jon hesitated before answering. “I’m not a Stark. Get on.”

But as they began to leave, Jon heard small and faint whimpers from below. He walked down to try and locate it. Robb and Theon stopped to ask if there was a problem. For his answer. He held up a sixth direwolf pup – one with stark white fur like snow and piercing blood-red eyes.

“Ah, the runt of the litter,” Theon quipped with a smug smirk. “That one’s yours, Snow.”

Jon looked at Greyjoy with exasperation, while Robb looked pleased and grateful for the albino pup’s existence. At the very least, his favorite brother also had a direwolf. He was a Stark – whether his mother liked it or not.

The ride back to Winterfell was quiet in the front, with the grown men still somber and sullen from the execution. But the boys were speaking with one another with great excitement for bringing home new members of their family. Robb and Theon were riding in front of Jon and Bran. Bran was still thinking about what the deserter said about the white walkers. Was he lying? Was Father right about mad men seeing what they want to see? But…he didn’t look mad.

“Quite the day for the lad. Eh, Bran?” Theon called out to him as Bran broke from his thoughts. “First, your first deserter execution. Next, you and your siblings are getting a direwolf each. And to think, I thought Shireen’s sister’s arrival would be the most exciting news of the day.”

“What?” thought Bran. His thoughts about white walkers and deserters were quickly replaced by news of his friend's arrival.

“Minnie’s coming?” he excitedly asked with a broad smile and bright eyes. “Did she say when? Is she bringing Wu with her?”

Theon’s news also caught Jon’s and Robb’s attention. Jon was lost in his thoughts since finding the albino wolf pup. Robb was thinking about Arya’s and Rickon’s reactions to receiving the privilege of caring for their house’s sigil. But now, something of greater import came to their attention.

“Ming’s coming?” asked Jon. “Are you sure?”

Theon smirked at the bastard’s excitement. “I was with her when Shadow flew up to her with a message tied on its leg – escorted the Lady Shireen myself when she told Lord and Lady Stark. Lass was practically jumping off the walls after reading it.”

“Did she say when she would be arriving? Are Lord Stannis and his lady wife coming with her?” asked Robb.

Theon shook his head. “She says she’s in Dragonstone to prepare for her stay. She’ll be at White Harbor in a week. She’s bringing their mother and brother, too. But Lord Stannis won’t be joining them this time.”

This greatly confused Bran and his brothers. Lord Stannis was infamous for his sour expressions and austereness – but anyone who had the privilege of meeting him now would see how much the company of his second wife softened his hard nature. Stannis Baratheon was a man who showed no love for his brothers, but he adored the women and girls in his life. An adoration now extended to his youngest child, his only son.

For such a man to not travel with his wife was a strange and unusual occurrence.

“Why is Lord Stannis not traveling with Minnie and Lady Mei?” asked Bran. His brows furrowed before worry took hold of him. “Did he and Lady Mei fight, and she’s running away with their son?”

“Bran, that’s enough,” ordered Jon. “Everyone knows how much Lord Stannis respects Lady Mei’s advice. I’m sure he's not joining them because there’s too much to do at King’s Landing. Being King Robert’s brother gives him a great number of duties.”

Theon turned to Jon with a wide smirk. “Awfully defensive of Lady Mei’s honor – aren’t you, Snow? Think that’ll grant you any favors from her daughter, ‘Minion’?”

“Don’t call her that!” Bran called out.

Jon sputtered his response with red-tipped ears. “You know how much she hates being called that. Or do you want a repeat of what happened in the courtyard when you and Robb first called her that? And, of course, I care about Minna’s mother – I’d be a bad friend if I didn’t.”

Jon shouldn’t be as excited as he was at that moment. But he couldn’t help himself. Ming – his Ming – was coming to Winterfell. She was everything Jon wanted in an older sibling. She was invincible and told him as such. She and her mother had never once treated him differently from the rest of the Stark Children after learning of his bastard status. Whenever he got in over his head about his birth, she would always manage to ground him in some way. Once, he asked her if she was trying to trick him. She stared at him briefly before rolling up a piece of paper and swatting his head.

He still remembered her scowl with fondness.

“Do I look as stupid as Catelyn Stark to you?” she interrogated. “Who cares if you’re a bastard? You care about your siblings and work hard to be a worthy son despite the world giving you an excuse not to. I’ve given you some of my favorite fruits from my homeland, and you dare ask me if my friendship towards you was a ruse?! Don’t be stupid, Jon.”

He wept like a baby. He had never felt so happy in his life, and all he could do was thank his friend while weeping for joy. And to make him stop crying, she let him cry on her shoulder as she softly stroked his hair.

“Yeah,” snorted Theon. “Friend – sure.”

“That’s enough,” Robb cut in. “All of you. You want Father to scold us?”

Robb could tell his brothers were ecstatic about Ming’s arrival, but he had conflicting emotions about the news. Ming Yin Baratheon was a woman grown who was older than him by two years, the same age as Theon. Ming always had a wicked and brash tongue on her. When they first met, she was his height but so skinny and dressed so plainly with dirt streaks on her face.

Was it really so bad if he assumed she was smallfolk?

Then Theon dared him to tug on her braid while she was reading a book in the courtyard. A stupid dare between stupid boys resulted in them running for their lives with tears down their cheeks as a short and bookish girl chased them with a broom twice her height. She shouted out curses and promises of all the vile things she would do to them as she violently swung the broom through the air with fire in her eyes and poison on her tongue.

It took the combined efforts of Stannis, his father, Rodrick, and Jory to pry her off when she caught up to them. In the end, Robb’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as Luwin treated his bleeding nose, black eye, and bruises across his body while he and Father occasionally snickered to themselves. His mother nearly had a heart attack at the state of her eldest child. When she heard what had happened and tried to scold the girl, Ming only responded by blowing her tongue and spraying her spittle at the Tully woman. Even with more dirt on her cheeks than before and her braid ruined, she carried herself in such an unrelenting dignified manner that Robb couldn’t help but envy it.

At the very least, Theon was in no better state than him.

How in the Seven Hells could a girl of nine years manage to fight off four grown men? The memory stumped Robb then and still stumped him now.

“Scared of meeting the Demoness from Dragonstone?” Theon smugly asked when he saw his friend staring in the distance. “Or are you worried she won’t be impressed with your new height and strength when she sees you haven’t improved your writing?”

Robb scoffed at Theon’s words. “No, don’t be ridiculous.”

He refused to believe that he cared so much for some quick-tempered girl who always teased him– even if she had shiny black hair that ended at her waist and sharp, expressive dark eyes with full lips. It didn’t matter that she haunted his dreams every night since she was in Winterfell when she turned fourteen. It didn’t matter to Robb that Minna was the epitome of an exotic beauty with enough fire in her soul for any Northern winter to freeze her. It didn’t matter to Robb that she was closer to Jon than to him.

“I’ll kiss you when you finally beat me.”

It didn’t matter to Robb – none of it.

“I’m not scared of Minna, Theon – so stop trying to bait me.” Robb let that be the final word before riding ahead just behind his father.

Meanwhile, Ned had heard everything passed between the boys while riding in the front. He chuckled at Bran’s excitement. He was sure he would be climbing the gates of Winterfell every day to wait for Minna’s arrival. It was no secret to anyone in the Stark family or those working in Winterfell that Bran had a bit of a crush on the tempestuous sailor. While his wife disliked the girl, Ned was very fond of her. Her temper and sharp tongue reminded him of Mei when he first met her. Not to mention that she was the spitting image of Mei at that age.

He wasn’t too old to be oblivious to how his sons acted around pretty girls – especially girls like her. Northern women were one thing, but Mei and Minna were an entire league of women. There had never been two women who would turn Westeros upside down and inside out as much as them. Mei had turned the forever stoic Stannis Baratheon into a feeling human, became the most respected woman in the Keep, and opened trade opportunities for Westeros. At the same time, Minna tore down every obstacle in her path to pursue knowledge and made Dragonstone one of the richest keeps in the Seven Kingdoms – not that Robert or his queen will ever get a hold of a single coin from her.

When Ned and his sons returned to Winterfell, he was immediately bombarded with questions from the rest of his children about whether Minnie was really coming to Winterfell. They asked if he knew about whether he knew she was bringing gifts from her travels. Arya wanted to know if she would give her a dagger forged by the Master blacksmiths from Qohor. Rickon hoped she would bring any sweets and candied fruits.

Even Sansa couldn’t hide her excitement. Despite the girls' differences, Minna would bring Sansa the most exquisite fabrics, accessories, and books. The gifts were more often than not used as a way to distract her from any pranks or tricks pulled on her. Thankfully, Mei would be here as well. Sansa held Lady Mei Baratheon on nearly the same high pedestal as her mother. She would tell how beautiful Sansa was growing and how her grace and charm rivaled the most beautiful empresses from her homeland. She would sing praises of how her stitching looked more impressive than the last time she’d seen it while sharing news of the latest trends worn among noble women worldwide.

Excitement filled the halls of Winterfell at the news of their guests. Preparations were underway for their arrival. Ned went to the Godswood and shone his sword under the branches of the Old Weirwood tree for some peace. He was grateful for the life the Old Gods blessed him with. This was not the life he was meant to have. Everything of his should have been Brandon’s – his wife, his title, his responsibilities – but he wouldn’t change any of it, not for all of the power and gold in the world.

But his world would be crashing down around him when his wife arrived with a message from King’s Landing.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” Catelyn told him with sympathetic eyes. Then she told him Jon Arryn had died, and Robert and his wife would travel to Winterfell with their children and the Queen’s brothers.

Ned looked down at his feet. “If he’s traveling this far North, it’s for one thing.” He looked at his wife in hidden fear. “He wants to make me his Hand.”

“First Mei, now Robert,” thought Ned when he shared the news to his children. “May the Old Gods and New protect my family for what’s to come.”

Bran watched the road to his father’s keep from the top of the gates. He saw a single dot moving closer and closer until the dot became a wheelhouse. His eyes widened in excitement as his smile broadened in anticipation for his friend in the horse-drawn carriage that carried House Baratheon’s banner. He stood up and ran across the edge or beginning to climb down the tower. He reached the ground to run to his father at the stables.

“They’re here! They’re here!” he exclaimed when he reached him. The boy was practically bouncing on his heels for barely containing his elation.

Ned chuckled at the sight of his son. “Who, Bran?”

“Minnie! There’s a wheelhouse coming! It carries the sigil of House Baratheon!”

“Was anyone carrying the banner?” his father asked with a quizzical brow raised.

Bran shook his head. “No, but I saw it painted on the top of it.”

“Alright, then,” nodded Ned as he gave his son instructions. “Gather your brothers, sisters, and Shireen. I’ll prepare your mother. Tell them to gather in the courtyard to greet them.”

Bran nodded before doing as his father instructed. He swiftly ran through the familiar halls of the Winterfell keep that was his home. He found Sansa, Arya, and Shireen with Septa Morgane. They were learning their sums when Bran burst into the room. Septa Morgane scolded him for acting so brashly, but her words were quickly ignored when Bran told the girls that Minnie and her mother would soon arrive. As soon as the news left his mouth, Shireen dashed right past him, followed by his sisters.

Jon, Robb, and Theon were already in the courtyard, sparring with wooden swords, when Bran found them. They immediately put away their wooden swords and met their father with Rodrick right behind them. Father and Mother stood side-by-side when Robb stood to Father’s left. Rickon stood next to their mother, and Shireen stood next to him with an eager smile beaming on her face. Sansa stood to Robb’s left, Arya on her right, and Bran was on hers. Jon and Theon were behind them – Theon was a Greyjoy, but Ned Stark’s ward. Jon was a Stark by blood…but not by name.

Shireen was bouncing on the tips of her toes in hopes that time would move faster. The days since her sister’s letter of her arrival moved so slowly, and she could hardly sleep a wink last night for this moment.

“Do you think she missed me?” she whispered to Rickon.

“Of course! Minnie loves you more than anything!” Rickon replied. “Even more than her own ship, I think.”

The loud creaks and groans of the aged wood crept closer and closer until the wheelhouse stopped in the courtyard’s center. The driver ensured the horses were calm and stable before leaping from his seat and opening the doors. A vision in a marigold silk tunic with trumpet sleeves and gold floral patterns paired with a gold belt around her waist. It was a shame that such finery was hidden underneath a thick wool cloak with a thick fur mantle. Her lustrous, flowing, jet-black tresses were bound with a green ribbon and golden stitching in a single braid trailing down her back. The pendant of her husband’s sigil hung down from a simple gold chain over her bosom.

Lady Měilíng Baratheon was the second wife of Stannis Baratheon and the mother of his only son. As she stepped down from the wheelhouse, she stepped on the dirt with such grace and poise that it seemed the Mother of the Seven had come instead of a highborn lord’s wife. A woman over forty years of age who still managed to get pregnant and carry a son to term – she looked far too young to be her age.  

A small boy who could not have been taller than Ned Stark’s knee shuffled behind her. It was the little lording, Steffard Baratheon, the only son of his father and second-in-line to inherit Dragonstone after his older sister, Shireen. He wore a fine coat from a stag’s hide and little shoes to protect his feet. Like his mother, he too wore a gold pendant of his father’s sigil hung from a simple chain. Despite being blessed with most of his mother’s soft features, he certainly inherited his father’s bright blue Baratheon eyes and inky-black curls.

Seeing the boy standing next to his mother, Ned felt a hundred years older than he was. Where had the time gone? He, Mei, and Robert were all children once – children involved in a war to decide the fate of a country for its future years. Ned had once pitied the YiTish girl for the hand she was dealt in life. As a foreigner, she should have had no part in Robert’s Rebellion, but she experienced loss and grief like the rest of them nonetheless.

And now, all three of them were leaders with their own children and carrying burdens on their shoulders that their children would inherit – how the years escaped them.

Měilíng searched for her young daughter and beamed when she found her. She nudged her little son and guided his eyes to his sister. His eyes lit up as he toddled to her, warming her heart. “希希 (XīXī)!” he exclaimed as Shireen ran towards him. Her arms were spread open as Steffard leaped into her arms and wrapped his arms around her neck. “I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!”

“I missed you too!” Shireen giggled as her body was flooded with her baby brother’s warmth.

Still locked in their reunion, the two young siblings spun in circles before falling on the ground in laughter. The scene loosened the tension as House Stark looked at the pair warmly.

When they stopped laughing, Shireen helped her brother as she looked at their mother. Mei’s smile shined as she squatted on the ground, balanced her body with her feet, and spread her arms wide open to greet her daughter. Shireen needed no instructions to race into her mother’s arms. A cocoon of love and happiness blanketed the young Baratheon girl as her face was dotted with pecks and kisses. She buried her face in the crook of her mother’s neck and breathed in her scent – her mother always smelled like the salty sea breeze of Dragonstone and peonies. To Shireen, it was as if she was transported home, and if she closed her eyes, she was back on the shores of the Dragonstone beaches, walking alongside Minnie.

“How are you, my little doe?” her mother asked as she tenderly stroked the back of her head. “Did you enjoy the books your sister and I sent you? Did you enjoy your lessons with Maester Luwin and Septa Morgane?”

Shireen answered her mother with a broad smile and starry eyes. “I am well, mother. I loved the books! But–” Shireen looked behind her mother to try to find her sister “–where is Minnie? Was she not in the wheelhouse with you and Steffard?”

Meiling shook her head as she laughed to herself. “Do not worry, little doe, your sister is here. But she is a little worse for wear after days in the wheelhouse.”

Their mother rose from her feet as her hands remained grasped with Shireen’s. She turned to the wheelhouse behind her and called out her daughter in the language of their homeland. “明阴 (Míng Yīn)! How long do you intend to keep your sister waiting?”

A weary and pained groan exited the horse-drawn transport in response. “Would you give me a minute? I’m a little busy trying not to die here!”

“You are not dying!” Měilíng scoffed. “How long do you want to keep Ned and his family waiting?”

“As soon as I’m done making sure I won’t shit or vomit my guts out! I don’t want to have to pay any additional fees for this torture device on wheels!”

“Do you need a brush for your hair?”

“NO!” A few moments passed. “OKAY! I’m good!”

The giant wooden box creaked as Shireen’s sister finally exited the wheelhouse, and she immediately breathed in the fresh air only found in the North. A young woman an entire head taller than Měilíng stepped into the light – despite the bags under her eyes and the slightly tired look on her face, she was every bit as beautiful and poised as her mother.

Míng Yīn was exactly how Ned Stark imagined her mother would have looked if Mei trained herself in combat and fighting as a child. Her dark almond-shaped eyes could either enchant a man enough to willingly give her his life or scare the souls of all her enemies. Her muscles grew and hardened after years of training under her biological father in Yi Ti before traveling around the world on open seas – fighting anyone who dared cross blades with her and leaving a trail of blood and corpses for fish to nibble on. Ned did not doubt that she would bankrupt his boys if they even dared to try and bet against her in combat.

Míng Yīn wore her hair in a half-up-down style with a part of her hair bound in a simple braid on the back of her head. Her outfit was more fitting of a sailor than a highborn noblewoman. She wore a mid-length dark blue wool robe with a silver border stitched on the hem and long sleeves. The robe was wrapped around her body in a way that left her neck, collarbones, and the slightest hint of her cleavage out in the open. The dark linen sash that held her sword and dagger further emphasized the curve of her hips and waist. The black leather breeches hugged her lower body, and the tall black leather boots highlighted the muscles of her calves.

A large black jaguar had quickly come outside the wheelhouse as well. Its pristine and shiny coat shone in the faint sunlight that bathed Winterfell. Without missing a beat, it promptly stood beside its mistress, scanning the new environment for any dangers that would risk his beloved mistress’ safety and well-being.

So, Míng had indeed brought Wu. Robb’s mother wouldn’t like that.

But unlike her mother and brother, Míng Yīn did not wear the sigil of her mother’s second husband’s house. On her neck and sitting on her breasts was a black jade pendant with a small dragon with a white eye carved into it hung from a red string. On each side of the pendant was a tiny Dragon’s Bloodstone bead.

Robb unconsciously straightened his posture at the sight of her. He felt himself release a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding until Ming came into view. Years’ worth of memories flooded his mind as she reached for her younger sister.

The young Baratheon girl launched herself in her sister’s arms. “Minnie! You’re here!”

Robb watched on the sidelines as Ming greeted Shireen with a dozen kisses for each month since they last saw one another. He wondered if she still smelled as cool and crisp as the ocean’s wind that blew through her hair. Or if her skin would taste as warm and bright as the sunshine soaking her skin while she stood on her ship’s dock on cloudless days.

He longed for a sample – anything would be enough.

When the two sisters parted, Wu gently lowered himself to nudge his head against Shireen. Loud purrs came from his throat as the young girl scratched that spot under his chin and stroked his back.

“Oh, Wu! You’ve become even more beautiful! Thank you for protecting Minnie!”

The beast preened at the attention. Míng Yīn was his mistress and savior and, therefore, his favorite. His eternal loyalty and love would forever belong to her. But if he had to choose a second favorite, it would belong to Shireen Baratheon – for she had the purest soul and kindest heart in all of the Seven Kingdoms.

Rickon could also not contain himself and joined his betrothed to embrace her sister. The sight of two small children clinging to the person who brought fear and awe to every sailor, sea merchant, and trading company from Westeros to Essos was both comical and heartwarming. A scene that became more comical was when Míng Yīn grabbed one child each and flung them on her shoulders as if they were small sacks of flour. Wu jumped on his hind legs to play as he licked their tiny hands.

Finally, Lady Měilíng of House Baratheon and her children brought themselves to stand before the Lord of the Winterfell and knelt with one knee on the ground in a show of respect. Ned told them to raise before bringing his old friend in a tight embrace.

When they parted, he gave her a look-down to take the sight of her in fully. “Gods, look at you. How many years has it been?"

Měilíng gave a kind smile in response. “I’d say almost two years – far shorter compared to when you’ve last seen Robert.”

“How is Robert in King’s Landing? Is he working Stannis to the ground?”

Měilíng huffed in annoyance at the mention of her brother-in-law’s name. “Oh, of course. The man’s too stupid and fat to do anything else but order his brother, my husband, and his Hand to run his kingdom while he eats, drinks, and whores himself to ruin.”

Everyone apart from Ned widened their eyes in shock at the woman’s words. Did she not fear for her head? Was it alright if the wife of the King’s brother said such things of him? But Mei only turned to Ned’s wife as she bowed in respect for Lady Stark.

“Lady Stark,” she spoke in a clear and calm voice. “On behalf of my husband and House Baratheon, I humbly thank you for opening your home to allow my daughter to stay with your children this past year. Your generosity was further extended to allow room for my family’s visit. I cannot imagine the stress my eldest daughter gave you when her letter stated that we would be here in less than two weeks.”

Catelyn bowed her head in response. “Think nothing of it, my lady. Lady Shireen Baratheon had been our home's most polite and wonderful guest. I am grateful you and your husband sent her to my family’s home to host her. She had quickly become my youngest son’s most favorite playmate.”

Měilíng smiled at the woman’s words. She then turned to the Stark children before greeting each and every one of them. She marveled at how tall and handsome Robb had become since childhood. She softly whispered in his ear if he were hopeful that his sparring skills improved enough to beat her daughter. Seeing him sputtering and pale skin blushing made a very amusing scene. When she came across Sansa, she gasped and held the girl’s hands in her own.

“Oh, Sansa!” she exclaimed. “Look at you! You’ve grown so beautiful and tall since I last saw you. I thought you were a princess! And your cloak – tell me, did you do the stitching?”

Sansa softly giggled as she blushed from the praise. “Yes, Lady Baratheon. I’ve improved a lot in my stitching and needlework since you last saw me – I’m sure I could even make you something, if you’d like.”

Měilíng put a gentle palm on the girl’s cheek. “I would love nothing more. Perhaps you would even convince my eldest to practice her needlework. Or even try to persuade her to stop wearing breeches and trousers when she’s not at sea.”

“Never going to happen, Mother,” interjected Míng Yīn, who had finally put Shireen and Rickon on the ground after greeting Lord and Lady Stark. “I do enough needlework on my own. Thank you very much.”

Míng Yīn’s mother turned to her daughter in exasperation. “The only time you practiced as a child for needlework was to sew wounds close after training with your father.”

“…Yeah, exactly,” Míng Yīn nodded with a slight shrug and a blank expression. “What more needlework skills are necessary after that?”

“Minnie!” shouted Arya and Bran as they both made their way to crowd the woman. After exchanging warm greetings and kind words, the most essential questions came from the younger Stark daughter’s mouth.

“Did you bring gifts?” she asked in an eager tone.

“Arya!” exclaimed her sister and mother. Both women’s faces turned red at Arya’s impoliteness as Ned and his friend only laughed at the girl’s bluntness.

Míng Yīn stroked her chin as if deep in thought. “Did I bring gifts? Huh…I wonder…that doesn’t sound like something I’d do. Is it?”

Bran jumped like a child of four after eating too much sugar. “You did! Can we see them? Please?” He turned to his father with pleading eyes.

Ned slightly shook his head. “Come on now, Bran. Let our guests first get settled in their rooms. Judging from Lady Minna’s expression, she could do for a bit of rest.”

“But after they get settled, can they give us the presents?” Rickon sweetly asked while holding Steffard’s hand on one side while Shireen held the other as they placed the baby on Wu’s back.

His mother answered as she softly stroked his head. “After they rest for a bit, then we will have supper. The cooks prepared a feast for our guests’ arrival. There will be plenty of time tomorrow.”

Even Sansa deflated a bit with her younger siblings that they couldn’t receive their presents sooner rather than later.

Míng Yīn grabbed Shireen by the back of her cloak before placing her sister on her back. Shireen was a bit shocked before she giggled at the display of her sister’s open affection and wrapped her arms around her neck as Míng Yīn looped her arms around her little legs.

“Anyone been doing this for you while I’ve been gone?” she smirked.

Shireen responded with glee. “No! I only like you doing these!”

As Robb watched his parents and sister walk off with Lady Meiling and Steffard, he figured now was as good a time as any to approach Ming. Shireen jumped off her back to her mother’s side to try and hold her brother the rest of the way to their rooms.

“Ming!” he called out. He felt his palms grow sweaty when she turned around in his direction.

He walked towards her with long, confident strides. He thought he looked intimidating, but he realized that wasn’t the case when she burst out laughing. The young lord’s ears burned at her reaction, and they only grew hotter when he heard Theon and Jon snickering behind him.

She only stopped laughing long enough to gasp out a response. “What’s with that face? You look like you swallowed a lemon!”

…Fuck, what was Robb to say in response to that? He had to be smart about this. He would not make a fool of himself. He tried his best not to stare at the jaguar staring at him with hollow eyes.

“…I’m finally taller than you,” he dumbly stated.

“Shit,” was the only echoing in Robb’s mind as he heard Jon and Theon loudly guffawed as they heard him.

He didn’t have to look behind him to know that the bastards collapsed on the ground, gasping for air.

But Míng Yīn only walked toward him while Wu did not come any closer before stopping a few feet away as she traced her eyes over his face and down his form. He saw her dark eyes crinkle with appreciation as a sweet smile spread. She snorted out through her nose as she stepped even closer until only a few inches of air were between them. Wu still hadn’t moved, but he was staring more intensely than before, and Robb wondered if his death would be from a jaguar clawing out his throat.

“Yes,” she whispered as her eyes darted to his lips. “You’re much taller now.”

Blue met black as only the noises came from their parents walking farther and farther away. Their growing distance made the space between them seem more like a separate reality. One where it was only the two of them and no one else. Robb’s eyes quickly glanced down to Ming’s lips, and his Adam’s apple bobbed at the thought of them around his cock.

But that bubble burst when Míng Yīn bumped her fist into Robb’s chest and backed away with a cheeky grin and mischievous eyes.

“笨蛋 (Bèndàn), I’m still going to kick your ass in the courtyard, though.” She turned to Wu before walking. “Come on, 无牙 (Wú yá)! Let’s catch up to 小希 (Xiǎo xī )! I want to take a bath before dinner.” She turned to walk back to her family and called out to him without looking back. “You’ll always be a hundred years too early to beat me in a fight!”

Robb only stood in a daze as he watched her walk away. When Theon slapped his back, he finally came to and saw that Jon was beside him.

Theon snickered at the glare his friend gave him. “Stare at her ass any longer, and I’ll think you’ve become more scarecrow than wolf. Plus, I think the cat can sense your eyes.”

Robb only shrugged. “It’s a good ass to stare at.”

“It’s a great ass to stare at. That doesn’t make you look less stupid.”

“Can we stop talking about Ming’s backside?” Jon begged. He didn’t like talking about their friend in such a disrespectful manner, and he liked the idea of Wu tearing out their throats even less. “Let’s get back to sparring with Rodrick before the feast.”

Another reason to adore Míng Yīn – she hated it when Jon wasn’t included in the feasts while she was staying at Winterfell. The feast of her first coming to Winterfell with her mother was marked mainly by how she walked out of the Great Hall and returned with Jon. She dragged him by the wrist before seating him right next to her at the table.

Jon was terrified Lady Stark would berate his new friend for deliberately bringing the bastard to the feast. But all that came was a stare-down between the Lady Stark and Ming Yin. Lady Stark’s face was red with embarrassment, and she stared down at the girl with the most terrifying look Jon had ever seen. Just remembering the expression gave chills down his spine.

But Ming refused to back down. She unblinkingly returned the lady’s stare with her own, and it was as if a silent war had broken out. Ming wasn’t afraid of the red-haired fish with crow’s feet under her eyes. A wolf by marriage was hardly a wolf at all. She wasn’t going to be beaten in a battle of wills – not then, not ever.

Ned sat by his wife, wondering if Mei would bring war to his feet if his wife killed her beloved daughter. Meiling sat beside Lady Stark in rapt interest for the events unfolding. She always loved it when her little goblin decided to enact her idea of justice. She loved it even more when she took charge.

After what seemed like hours, Lady Stark conceded to the girl as she returned to her meal. Ming turned to Jon with bright stars in her clever eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you?” she asked with a broad smile. “I’m invincible.”

Since then, Jon has always included every time a feast was held for the YiTish women. An act of genuine kindness that was appreciated by all of Jon’s siblings and his father.

An act that only deepened the infatuation of a confident young wolf with dark auburn curls and bright blue eyes.

An infatuation that the Gods saw morph into obsession as they felt shivers course through their divine forms in anticipation of the future ahead.

*Additional Notes:

The characters from Yi Ti and other countries in this stories will different ways of how they are referred

Míng Yīn's Nicknames and Who uses them:

Ming - Robb, Theon, Jon, Sansa, and Catelyn Stark

Minna - Ned (he is the only one allowed)

Míng Yīn - Luwin

Minnie - Shireen, Rickon, Arya, Bran

Měilíng's Nicknames and Who uses them:

Mei - Robert, Ned, Renly, and Stannis

Translations:

希希 (XīXī) - Hope Hope; 希 means "hope"; Shireen's name in Chinese is written as 希琳 (Xī lín), in which 希 means "hope," and 琳 means "forest." Because Steffard is a baby who grew up hearing Yi Tish and Westerosi Common, it makes sense he would refer to Shireen with a nickname.

小希 (Xiǎo xī ) - Little Hope; another nickname for Shireen, but specifically from her older sister. Míng Yīn is a girl who is thousands of miles away from her hometown, Wan, in Yi Ti. When her mother married Stannis, she had to leave everyone she ever loved, including her older brother. But seeing baby Shireen have her hope that everything would turn out for the better.

明阴 (Míng Yīn) - 明 means "bright," and 阴 is the character used for "yin" in the Chinese philosophy of "yin and yang". The character's direct translation is "negative," but it is also used to describe "femininity, moon, water, and earth" as it represents the female principle of the universe

笨蛋 (Bèndàn) - Fool or dumbass; 笨 means "fool," while 蛋 means "egg." Technically, the direct translation is "foolish egg," but most people will use it to call someone an idiot.

无牙 (Wú yá) - toothless; 无 means "none," while 牙 means "tooth"; Míng Yīn named him this because when she first found him as a cub, he didn't have any teeth.

杀手 (Shāshǒu) - killer; this is Shadow's actual name; Shadow is a Peregrine Falcon

Tagging: @succnfuccubus, @valeskafics, @arcielee, @anya-snow, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @jamera-ash, @lillian-morningstar, @strangedragonqueen, @writingsofwesteros, @a-libra-writes, @leonkennedyslefthand, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @hd-junglebook, @what-the--curtains, @axelsagewrites

#stannis baratheon x reader #stannis baratheon x oc #stannis baratheon #stannis the mannis #robb stark x reader #robb stark x oc #yi ti #yi ti oc #margaery tyrell x oc #margaery tyrell x reader #shireen baratheon #shireen baratheon x rickon stark #shireen x rickon #theon greyjoy #theon greyjoy & reader #jon snow & reader #jon snow & oc #theon greyjoy & oc #ned stark & oc #robb stark #got x reader #game of thrones x reader #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf x reader #got imagine #game of thrones imagines

[what-do-1000-swords-look-like]

Jon Chose To Protect Sansa Who He Loved the Most - It's Right There In the Dialogue and Script

I know I've already talked about this in this post, but I missed this one part of the dialogue before.

Tyrion uses several different tacks to try to get Jon to consider killing Dany. Nothing works. Not the threat to Jon himself, not the threat to the people, not Tyrion about to be executed, not being in the grip of a tyrant now that's actually worse than the Lannisters, not his code of doing the right thing -- nothing. Until Tyrion mentions Jon's sisters. When Tyrion sees this catches Jon's attention, he turns the conversation towards Sansa. And that is what eventually gets through to Jon, despite his initial protestation.

Tyrion: "And your sisters? Do you see them bending the knee?" (8x04, Sansa is saying to Jon in the Godswood "That doesn't mean I want to kneel to someone--" before she's cut off)

Jon: "My sisters will be loyal to the throne." (we know Arya is not a threat to Dany, that she's aware of anyway, I seriously doubt Arya would stand by as Sansa or Jon is about to die - but still Arya isn't the one who won't bend the knee if need be - Arya makes it clear in her scene with Jon before this that not only is Jon in danger but Sansa will not accept Dany as Queen)

Tyrion: "Why do you think Sansa told me the truth about you? Because she doesn't want Dany to be Queen."

Jon: "She doesn't get to choose."

Tyrion: "No, but you do. And you have to choose now."

So Jon makes the choice to confront Dany about what happened to KL and we get the throne room scene. Here, Jon angrily does so at first, then tries to appeal to her by asking her to forgive Tyrion (like Jorah did back in 8x02). When she refuses, he pleads with her, but it falls on deaf ears. He even starts to get a bit emotional, knowing what he may have to do. And when Dany says a certain line, he now knows what he has to do (which is reiterated by the script by the line "Jon understands what this means for those he loves most"). Sure enough, he says his goodbye to her and then stabs her in the heart.

Dany: "It's not easy to see something that's never been before. A good world."

Jon: "How do you know? How do you know it will be good?"

Dany: "Because I know what is good. And so do you."

Jon: "I don't."

Dany: "You do. You do, you've always known."

Jon: "What about everyone else? All the other people who think they know what's good?"

Dany: "They don't get to choose."

And that's when he knows. That's when he makes the decision.

Not only did Jon keep his promise to protect Sansa, not only did he make the same decision Ned did back in season 1 for Sansa and for Jon himself when he was born, but he also loved Sansa the most (I mean in this scenario, when the decision between Sansa and Dany came down; he obviously loves Arya and Bran as well). It was the idea that Sansa was going to be liberated that finally got through to him and made him realize he had to make that difficult decision.

The North had already bent the knee.

Westeros had a new queen now.

The Wildlings and Ghost went back home.

Tyrion was going to be executed.

Bran and Arya weren't threats to Dany's reign from Dany's own perspective. (She knows Jon loves them both very much but they're not standing in Dany's way of her destiny and not a threat to Jon who she considers to be hers now)

They literally connected the dots for the audience.

It was Sansa. Sansa who he couldn't let Dany hurt.

Jon loved Sansa the most.

Bonus:

Sansa was the one Jon always looked back with, never Dany. (that good ol' romantic trope)

And Jon literally left himself (aka Ghost) with her when he had to go South to meet Dany, still as King in the North, to watch over her and protect her. (there's a reason they cut that scene and only had Sansa allude to it in 7x05 with "He can't just expect it to sit there and wait for him like Ghost." "He didn't. He trusted you to hold it for him.")

Loved. The. Most.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #got #game of thrones #jonsa meta #gotposts #metaposts #jonsaposts

[fierypen37]

Virtue a Veil, Vice a Mask: Chapter 18

moodboard by @libradoodle1

Chapter 18

One month later . . .

Dany sank back onto sweat-damp furs, limp as wrung-out dishrag. Wordless, Jon took the chamber pot and emptied her sick. He returned with a wet rag and a horn cup of water. Dany rinsed her mouth and spat into the packed dirt of their tent. She sipped the water gingerly. Even water at times would find its way back up. The tiredness, the tenderness of her breasts, the sickness: the sum of this tally was evident enough. Even her craving of salt, her sudden sharpness of smell. The truth was there—so stark, so beautiful, but as fragile as a soap bubble. A wayward breath would kill it.

“My poor love. Bide a bit, aye? I’ll fetch you some bread,” Jon said, rubbing her back in soothing circles. Mm, she loved his warm, rough hands. The terror and joy must have risen to animate her face, for Jon stilled.

“Do you think it’s true?” Dany’s hoarse voice emerged with barely enough breath to be heard. Jon had keen ears, though, and she watched a smile spread across his face. A wide, toothy one that crinkled the corners of his eyes so beautifully it struck her heart. His hand moved from her back to rest just below her navel, over her still-flat belly.

“Yes, my wonder. You’ve performed another miracle,” he jested, kissing her hair.

Dany relaxed back against him, covering his hand with hers. A babe. How was it possible? After Khal Drogo, Qotho . . . the old ghosts stirred, hungry for the sharpness of her fear, but she banished them. Though with Jon, the two of them had bedded in such ferocity and frequency from nearly the moment they met that she was baffled by her sudden predicament.

“How?” she said. Jon chuckled.

“I’m sure the maesters have opinions on the matter, but I don’t know them,” he said. Dany cradled the spark of hope, pulsing within like an ember.

“A miracle,” Dany whispered.    

~

“Jelmazmo,” Grey Worm’s deep voice drew Daenerys from contemplating the map spread on the folding camp table. Their plan was a tenuous one. A khalasar and dragons they had, but soldiers? Infantry? Perhaps a handful of freedmen had joined them, mostly farmers who had sharpened their pitchforks into spears. Grey Worm suggested they return to Slaver’s Bay, the beating heart of the slave trade, and purchase more Unsullied. Gold they had, but not enough to purchase an army. It was Jon who suggested a coup of sorts.

“It is poor sense to line our enemy’s pockets while emptying our own coffers. Let us make use of the dragons and free the Unsullied in one stroke,” he said, stabbing his finger into the harpy poised over Astapor on the map. He and Aggo had ridden to the ridge to take the scope of the city.

“Yes, Grey Worm?” Daenerys asked. Something like discomfort entered Grey Worm’s black eyes. He licked his lips before speaking.

“Rīza dārys and the bloodriders say that the slavers have taken the bait,” Grey Worm said. Dany jumped to her feet, then staggered.

“Jon said he was only scouting! The coup is happening today? Now?” Dany’s voice rose shrilly in anger. Within her belly the babe kicked her ribs and she winced. At first, it was delicate fizzling little flutters. But in the long journey inland, the babe grew. Miracle though it was, the babe enjoyed amusing himself by kicking her ribs or jumping on her bladder. Now in her seventh month, Jon and her captains were adamant that she stay as far away from Astapor as possible. That damned man!

Daenerys reached through their bond and felt the warm blaze of Drogon. As the pregnancy progressed, her dragon had grown even more protective. Often he would fly so close the horses spooked, sending their column into disarray. Drogon was only content when Daenerys rode on his back. Come, my love! We ride! The answering roar was close. She surged to her feet, then swayed at little as a wave of dizziness overcame her. Grey Worm caught her arm to steady her.

“Jelmazmo, you should not go to the city. I know these slavers, they are cruel. And you carry another dragon in your belly,” Grey Worm said.

“What better protection than Drogon, Grey Worm? I must go. I must go to Jon and wring his handsome neck for leaving me behind,” she said, shaking off Grey Worm’s grip and struggling with the weight of her mail hauberk. Grey Worm cursed in bastard Valyrian and helped ease the weight over her head. Daenerys stuck out a foot and jerked her chin in a hurry-up motion. The shape of her belly prevented her from reaching her own bootlaces. Mindful of her swollen ankles, Missandei had thoughtfully loosened them before seeking her midday rest in her own tent. Grey Worm exhaled an irritated breath and knelt to tie her laces.

“Rīza dārys was adamant that you stay--”

“I am going, Grey Worm. I am blood of the dragon,” she said. The ground shuddered beneath their feet as Drogon landed. Dany shoved aside the partition of her tent and squinted into the blistering brightness of Astapor’s hot sun. Drogon gleamed obsidian with crimson streaks glowing in the sunlight. His amber-red eyes watched her approach, wide wings baiting in the eagerness to be gone. He did not want his brothers to have all the fun!

“You have the van, Grey Worm. Be ready!” Dany shouted over Drogon’s sharp cry.

Coiling her braid atop her head, she shoved her helm down over it. An enameled dragon in Drogon’s likeness snarled across her brow, her cheekpieces mimicking his open maw. Mounting Drogon wasn’t the usual effortless process. Bless him, Drogon flattened himself as much he could, even stilling his breathing as she scaled the ladder of spikes. With much cursing and effort, Dany settled in her usual spot, steadying herself on one of Drogon’s crimson spikes.

“Fly, my love,” Dany commanded in Valyrian. Drogon roared and with a teeth-jarring leap, flung himself upward. Dany grinned. The giddy rush of flying never lost its luster.

“I’m coming, Jon!”

~

 “Vyrmax, dracarys!” Jon bellowed. The white dragon arched his neck and Jon watched in half-horrified fascination as the white-gold blaze of fire emerged from his throat and bathed Kraznys mo Naklos in flames. The slaver shrieked, a high thin sound that snapped like glass. Then he was naught but blackened bones. Jon drew Nightfall. The world seethed like an upset anthill. Aggo drew his arakh, bellowing a war cry. The slavers and guards cursed and wept and died as the Unsullied advanced, as inevitable as the rush of a river. The cavalry of Jon and Dany’s khalasar surged out into the city. Slaying slavers, freeing slaves. Glorious chaos. Tessarion joined Vyrmax in the air, roaring and burning.

“Filthy Targaryen scum!” one guard spat, sprinting to meet Jon. Nightfall checked the blow—slivers of steel flying. Jon grinned, relishing the chance to at last strike against their enemy. The guard wasn’t ready for Jon duck to one side, for Jon’s knife to hamstring his leg, and Nightfall to open his throat. Another made the mistake of engaging Jon, and died with Nightfall piercing his heart. Hot energy sang through his muscles, that dark joy of battle. A spear blade sliced at his hauberk, but Jon swiveled and opened the attacker from collarbone to navel.

Another roar split the sky. Deeper, rich with a dragon’s rage. Drogon. Jon watched the great black dragon fly across the sun, resplendent in black and crimson. While it lifted his heart to see Drogon on wing, his heart sank. Dany. Dany had escaped her guards and thrown herself headlong into the fight. Damned stubborn woman!

“Vyrmax! To me!” Jon bellowed, with his voice and his mind. The white dragon shrieked, cutting sharply from where he flew west and landed with a jarring thud, his clawed feet crushing corpses. Jon sheathed Nightfall and scaled Vyrmax’s neck to his saddle.  

“Fly!” he said, rubbing the ridge of muscle just in front of the saddlebow. Anger made his movements crisp and sharp, an acid burn in the back of his throat. A surge of powerful muscles and the air caught them, those great wings flapping. Moving air kissed his sweating face. The sun shone white and gold through those thick wing membranes. He gained height in the air even with Drogon, all the while mentally haranguing his wife.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Jon shouted as soon as he was certain she could hear him. Given the size of their mounts, they could not fly closely, so he could not read the expression beneath the crown of her helm. The sun shone off the polished steel and Jon’s eyes watered.

“Me? I could ask you the same fucking question!” Dany retorted shrilly, “You left me behind!”

Jon sliced his hand in an impatient gesture, standing in the stirrups of his saddle.

“For your own safety, you foolish woman! You’re about to give birth!”

“The maester and healers say there’s more than a moonturn until my time! After all this time, after all this struggle, you leave me behind!” Her voice rose and cracked over the words. The hot rush of anger faltered a little, pained as always by her distress.

“What kind of khal am I if I cannot keep my queen and my babe safe? I’m no king, no man at all if I cannot do that,” he said, as quietly as he dared to be heard. Dany heard him. The duck of her head made the enameled eyes of the dragon shine.

“These are my people. They deserve my protection too. How can they risk their lives for me if I’m not willing to do the same?”

The last of the anger slipped through his fingers like sand. His brave wife. Jon sighed, swiping sweat from his brow with the back of his glove. He stroked the hot smooth scales of Vyrmax’s cream-colored back.

“Join me in battle, my love. The slavers will remember the name Targaryen!” Jon said. The shape of her smile dazzled him.

“Dive!” Dany shouted in Valyrian.

~

 Five weeks later . . .

Dany sank back against the silky sheets, caught between the twin aches of her lower back and her throbbing feet. She huffed out a breath, rolling onto her other side. Sleep beckoned with dream-sweet kisses, but the deep ache in her back kept her awake. Clenching and unclenching like a tiny fist. Behind her, Jon murmured something in slurred Valyrian, too low for her catch. Dany subsided, hoping she hadn’t truly woken him. Petitioners had kept them both occupied for most of the day. Meereen’s heat made both she and Jon sleep naked.  

Cool wind stirred the gauzy curtains of Meereen’s peak, the lone candle flame danced in its sconce. Moonlight was pared into circles by the screen across the balcony door. Peaceful. Comfortable. Dany eased her breathing, rubbing the taut skin of her belly. She relished a quiet moment with just the two of them, her and the babe. I love you so much, little one. The babe hadn’t moved much today, though the midwives were quick reassure her. There simply wasn’t room for a good healthy khalakka to move now so close to her time.

The pain clenched again, tight, grasping. Her exhaled breath shook as her focus wavered. Something shifted. A gush of warm wet between her thighs, she looked down at the clear fluid wetting the sheets, releasing a faintly briny scent.  

“Jon. Jon!” Dany said, caught between terror and delight. The pain wasn’t simply one of sundry pains at being so massively pregnant, no. Labor pains! The babe was coming!

“Wha? What is it?” Jon shot up out of bed, blinking at her like a startled owl. His hair stood on end like porcupine quills. Dany reached for his hand. Jon took her hand between both his and knelt beside the bed.

“Are you well, my wonder? Shall I fetch you some ginger tea?” he asked. Her cheeks hurt from smiling so widely. Jon smiled back reflexively.

“Not just now, my love. We need the midwife. The babe is coming!”

Jon eyes flew wide. He jumped up and sprinted for the door, uncaring of his nakedness, wrenching it nearly off the hinges.

“FETCH THE MIDWIFE! THE QUEEN IS IN TRAVAIL!” Jon bellowed. When no midwife appeared from thin air, Jon shouted again, louder. Dany laughed.

“Jon, it’s all right. It won’t be for some time yet,” she said. in a blink, Jon was at her side.

“Do you need anything? Water? A blanket? A foot rub? Where in gods’ name is the thrice-damned midwife?”

Dany giggled, stroking his beloved face.

“It’s quite a large pyramid, my love. Give her time. Perhaps we can use new bedclothes? The waters have soaked them,” she said. Jon hustled her to the lounge chair and quickly stripped the bed. Missandei arrived just as Jon was tucking Dany back in bed, clean and comfortable. Just in time for the contraction to shiver through her, stronger this time. She rode the wave of it, waiting for it to ease. Two pairs of dark eyes watched her anxiously as she opened her own.

“I’m fine,” she promised. Jon—still naked—marched toward the door, wearing an expression that promised death and dragonfire if he was disobeyed. Just then Haji, the Dothraki midwife entered with her assistant, as well as a maester and one of the Green Graces.

“The queen is in travail. Aid her,” Jon said, folding his arms across his chest. Dany admired the force of her husband’s authority. He would defy the gods themselves for her, as she would for him. Targaryens answered to neither gods nor men. And now their little miracle was on their way.

Dany settled herself, ready for the trial.

Much later, the setting sun lit the room afire with gold. And Lyla Targaryen, slumbered at Dany’s breast. The aches were different, the sweat of effort cleaned and a gentle supper eaten. Dany floated, feeling a sense of perfect, utter peace. Jon kissed her forehead, nestled behind her on the nest of pillows.

“She’s perfect,” Jon whispered, tracing the tuft of silky dark hair on the top of her head. Happy tears flooded her eyes. All those years alone, enduring Drogo and Qotho, all that pain was worth it if it led her to this moment. This perfect moment. There was much work to do to rebuild the world, and bring the other slave cities to heel, but together they could do it. Tessarion had his rider, right here in the circle of her arms. The dragon has three heads.  Together, all was well.

“I love you,” she said.

And Jon smiled.  

#daenerys targaryen #jonerys #jon snow #fp37fic #jonerys fanfiction #road trip with dragons #virtue a veil vice a mask