#Brandon x Cat

[shining-m00nlight]

Am I the Asshole?

Catelyn thought she and her husband were happy in their marriage. But Brandon telling her a story brings out insecurities and a lot of questions.

Catelyn snuggled up to her husband a little bit out of breath from their activities. Brandon laid on his back, having a satisfied smile on his face. 

“That was great” he mumbled into her hair.

“It was,” Cat agreed. 

Brandon had always been good at this part of the relationship. Even if Catelyn didn’t like to think about where he got the practice from. 

“You never believe what Ned told me today” 

Ned was Brandon's little brother. Cat had never actually met him. He lived far away since he had been a teen before Catelyn and Brandon started dating. It bothered her a bit. It’s not just that she didn’t know Ned, she knew almost no one in Brandon's family well despite the fact that they were married for a year now. 

She thought that she would meet them all properly with wedding planning and at the wedding and then get to know them after. But that never happened. Brandon and her had married in Las Vegas. He had convinced her to go on this trip with him and some of his colleagues. When he won quite a bit of money, drank quite a bit of liquor he had been on a high and asked her to marry him right this moment. Catelyn also had drunk more than she would have usually had agreed. 

She would regret this decision when she woke up the next day releasing what they had done. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be married to Brandon. She loved him but she had also always dreamed of a big wedding. She had wanted her father to walk her down the aisle. She wanted to hug her sister and brother, when they congratulated her on her wedding. He wanted to dance with her father and her uncle at the reception. And she wanted to meet Brandon’s family and felt like she was becoming part of them due to the marriage. But thanks to their dissection to elope in Vegas she missed out on all of it.

She had met Brandon's father twice, once before and once after they married. Cat thought he liked her when she first met him but the second time it was clear that they disappointed him. Just like they did her father. Catelyn felt awful. Still she had hoped that she and Mr Stark could build a good relationship with each other but that never happened. Catelyn had never been over at the Stark manor again. She wasn’t quite sure if that was due to Mr Stark or Brandon. 

Catelyn never understood why Brandon seemed to have a lack of interest in getting to know each other's families. He had reluctantly agreed to have dinner with her father once after their wedding. It had been a disaster. If Rickard Stark showed that he was disappointed that they didn’t have a proper wedding, Hoster Tully showed that he was angry. He also put all the blame on  Brandon. Catelyn had tried to tell him that it was just as much her direction as it had been Brandons. Her father hadn’t believed her, sometimes she wondered if she even believed herself. When they left her fathers house after Brandon and her father had gotten into a screaming match Brandon had said he would never be doing it again. And he has stuck to it to this day. 

Because of that Brandon had never met either of her siblings. The only sibling of his that she had met was little Benjen. He still lived with his father, so when he met Mr Stark she had met him. He seemed sweet but Catelyn didn’t know much more about him than that. Lyanna, Brandon’s sister also still lived at home but had had no interest in meeting Cat. According to Brandon she was being annoying about not having been at the wedding. 

So when Brandon mentioned one of his siblings Catelyn was immediately super interested and trying to soak up any information about Brandon's family to maybe use it if she ever got to meet them. Because Ned didn’t live close by, he was the sibling Brandon talked the least about so Catelyn immediately perked up. 

“What did Ned tell you today?” 

“He was talking about his friend Robert. Well technically he was complaining a bit but that is because Ned can have a bit of a stick up his arse. He said that he started to be in an open relationship with his girlfriend.”

Catelyn frowned a bit. Why was Brandon telling her that?

“Apparently Robert always had trouble sticking to one woman and when he met his current girlfriend he didn’t wanna cheat on her so he went to her honestly and they opened up the relationship. Isn’t that interesting?”

"Mhh, a bit I guess. But I also find it sad not being happy with being together with one person. Don’t you think?” Catelyn asked. She was getting a bit nervous why Brandon was telling her this story of some friend of his brothers that she didn’t even know.

“Nah. I don’t think it is about that. I think it is just about fun, keeping things interesting.”

"Interesting? Can’t you just keep it interesting with one partner?”

“Yeah, I mean if you try enough. I guess you could.” Brandon said but didn’t sound so sure. It furthered Catelyn's nervousness.

“Why are you telling me this Brandon? I don’t even know this Robert or even your brother by the way. Are you telling me you are bored with our marriage? Or our sexlife?” she wanted to sound casual but the way Brandon reacted she guessed she wasn’t really successful. 

"Jees Cat chill out. I didn’t mean anything. I just told you something. It doesn’t need to have some deep meaning. And if you think I meant anything by it, maybe you should think about why.”

“So you do find our sexlife boring?!”

“Omg, Cat!”

“Well what did you mean then?”

“You know what? Doesn’t matter.” With those words Brandon turned around quickly, turning his back to Catelyn and pushing her unceremoniously to the other side of the bed. 

As Brandon was falling asleep Catelyn laid next to him getting more confused by the second. Brandon was definitely trying to tell her something right? Otherwise he wouldn’t have said she should think about it. But what else could he have meant? What was a story about a guy that started to be in an open relationship was supposed to tell her? Was Brandon bored with their sexlife? Their marriage? Or maybe just her? Did he want an open relationship? She couldn’t believe that he would ask that of her. He knew her. She wasn’t the type of person for an open relationship. She did not want her husband to be with anybody but her. But maybe he really just meant that their could be more excitement in their life. 

Catelyn didn’t see herself as a particularly boring person but she did like her routine. She thought she and Bradon had fallen into a nice one the last few months. But maybe this was exactly what Brandon didn’t like. Maybe she could try making their life a bit more interesting. And maybe that should include their sexlife. Here too they have a certain routine. It was not quite as routine as their day to day life but Catelyn knew that before her Brandon had been with a lot of girls, so maybe he was missing it.  

When she finally fell asleep, she fell asleep with thoughts of how she could make her marriage better.

[ladycatofwinterfell]

hey guys do you think ned’s experience with being an outsider from a different place contributed to him building Cat a sept? Winterfell had no sept for her as the Eyrie had no heart tree for him

[dr3adlady]

I have edited and added the illustrations above to my shop. Check them out if you're interested.

[an-unexpected-trollogy]

Oh to be Suzanne Collins and have little social media presence and to write a book regarding whatever current societal trend is bothering her at the moment.

[barkov]

FLORIDA PANTHERS as MY FAVORITE SONGS

my most self indulgent meme yet. some are based on vibes, others lyrics, but i picked my top 17 songs and then i assigned them to players. give these songs a listen!! they are good (not biased) also i recognize the irony of having songs named the lightning i & ii on here but. just listen to them.

[waytoomuchanalysis]

Send your results to my ask box if you do this bingo card! My interests and likes are kind of all over the place lmao

[kifkay]

Winx & Specialists Dynamics that are so Precious to me

it makes sense that in the show, winx and their non-boyfriend specialists don’t interact much. but!! i’m very insane about codependent found families, and I want them all to love each other. so here’s my take on some tet-a-tet dynamics:

rare pairings:

Musa & Timmy: childhood frenemies. they used to go to the same middle school on Melody, and as type-A tweens do, had an intense, “you’re the only person I match myself to” kind of rivalry. they lost contact after Timmy moved away, chilled out considerably, reconnected in Alfea and had a wonderful banter-filled friendship since. because of how fast they slotted back into a friendship, some of their classmates genuinely thought they were siblings.

Tecna & Riven: got up from a rough patch. from “I dislike you but we both love Musa, so we have to be civil” to “you have more depths to you than I expected” to “now that I understand you, I can’t help but admire certain things about you” to “bitch, you are the only person who is as weird and clueless as I am, ARE YOU READY TO GO TO THE ARCADE AND ANNIHILATE KIDS FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES”

Flora & Brandon: little sister, older brother vibes. of similar temperaments and views, they enjoy spending time over a cup of tea — talking about everything and nothing. it’s therapeutic, almost.

(no one in the group knew that Brandon and Flo were good friends. once, when the two had to team up during a mission, Bloom couldn’t even finish saying: “it would be a good opportunity for you to get to know each ot-“, before the specialist-fairy duo were re-creating the most complicated and choreographed hand shake ever. jaws were on the floor.)

Aisha & Brandon: they are sporties, and they like doing sport things together! they don’t talk aside from exchanging brief encouragements and advice while out, preferring to spend their time in companionable silence. sorta like those dads who never talk to their buddies, but somehow have the strongest and longest bonds ever?

Helia & Bloom: artist besties. Bloom drags Helia out on picnics, where they practice observational drawing (and tiktok trends that Bloom desperately wants to reenact but none of the winx are good at arts); Helia responds by taking her out to see art museums in Magix. it’s a fun dynamic of Bloom being the bubbly gold retriever, and Helia being her black cat.

Tecna & Sky: they didn’t have much of a relationship until year 4. somehow, they both got really, intensely into weaponsmithing and built a joint workshop. they found that they enjoy working alongside each other and value each other’s insights. sky goes to tecna when he needs frank, un-sugarcoated advice, and tecna accompanies sky on hikes and other spirited adventures, for “bonding activities” (because he told her she doesn’t get out of her comfort zone enough). it’s a relationship of deep mutual respect.

Sky & Stella: childhood friends. they knew each other as children and enjoyed playing together (which is how Stella also knew Brandon pre-Red Fountaine). at least, until Stella was unofficially banned from Eraklyon because shenanigans, and they lost contact. they still jokingly call each other “My Lady” and “My Lord”.

Stella & Nabu. Both are flirty and extroverted people, who enjoy the spirit of showmanship. They have a friendly rivalry going of who can fluster the villain of the week the fastest.

canon bf-gf dynamics (dating in canon, open to interpretation otherwise):

Bloom x Sky: liked each other since the first meeting; bonded over being the friend group moms. (on unrelated note: bloom gentle parents her friends, while sky goes all exasperated cig mom on his team and repeats things like: “you better go to sleep right now, or so help me Dragon I will take away your Owl pilot privileges-“)

they are not the most outwardly affectionate couple of the winx, yet they are so wordlessly devoted to each other. sky will follow bloom to the ends of all dimensions, when she gets a calling from powers as mystical as she. bloom will always believe in him and see him as his own man, unlike the many who see him only as his father’s son. they were entwined by fate, long before one had met the other; yet, there’s the trust, the respect, the faith so strong — that could have only come from friendship forged and tested by fire.

Stella and Brandon: the hottest power couple; sole reason behind 60% of all student fairies/specialists/witches queer awakening.

they banter all. the. goddamn. time. these dorks are speaking a whole different language.

they are also most comfortable in each other’s company, being able to be their genuine, less polished selves. stella and brandon are both performers bred and born, playing the roles of a noble princess and a knight. it’s nice, to have a safe reprieve from all that acting.

Aisha and Nabu. their love was one that sneaked up on them. their distance, set by a discomfort at the idea of an arranged marriage, bridged as they transitioned from being reluctant comrades to friendly rivals to unwilling friends to best friends to “if someday the moon calls you by your name, don’t be surprised — because every night I tell her about you”

Tecna and Timmy: partners in crime, ride or die, sunny faith in each other — even when the other person doesn’t believe in themself. I have a whole post about them, go read that ;)

Flora and Helia: they are so. they are. they-

icons. the most romantic couple, the one that sets the standards, the one that gives their friends advice. they are extremely attentive to each other’s needs and tender with each other’s feelings.

flora can recite helia’s poems in her sleep, and trace his drawings with her eyes closed. helia brings mielle presents every time he stops by. flora has tea with helia’s dad every other tuesday; she keeps note of every time helia and saladin are supposed to meet up, to be able to whisk helia away after and distract him from his troubles. helia knows how to care of flora’s plants, and sends her lovingly assorted gift baskets semi-regularly.

Musa and Riven. their relationship is push and pull, is joy then sorrow.

it’s all in a drag of a cigarette, in the vortex of a starless night, in the hoarse laughter. “of all the people in the world, why did it have to be you?” she’ll say and smile.

“ I’m afraid we’re doomed, lover,” he’ll reply, faux-casually, and smile back. both of them will know it’s the truth.

their relationship was not built to last, not for the lack of love or try. maybe they were too similar — both headstrong, unbending, bleeding hearts. maybe they were just different enough not to understand their hurts. nevertheless, it was not built to last — but neither of them would ever bring to regret it. love prevails, no matter in what form in comes, or something like that.

[myladysapphire]

The Dragon and the Wolf

Epilouge

You had been betrothed to Cregan stark at the start of the war. He was the noble and honourable stark that he was he supported your mother claim without restraint. So much so your mother saw it fit to betroth the two of you. So when disaster strikes and you and your younger brother are the only two survivors, you a shipped of north in your grief, leaving only Cregan to heal your wounds.

word count: 2,212

CW: MDI, 18+, refrences to pregenacy, miscariges stillbirths and death, happy ending! lots of fluff (all the bad tags where small and lead to a very fluff, not proofread!

Cregan Strak x Veleryon(strong)!reader

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part |

dividers by @zaldritzosrose

authors note: this epilouge is largely based of cregan starks wiki page, thats why they have a hell of a lot of kids. find it here.

Cregan Stark had been many things, the lord of Winterfell, warden of the north, hand of the king. But most importantly he had been your husband. Married for 66 years before your death in 200 AC,

Your marriage with filled with tragedy and triumphs, but most importantly love.

A love that inspired songs, poems and stories.

Though you and he had your ups and downs, he stayed by your side during your worst and your best times.

And even after years of struggling, years of sadness and tears as your moons blood came, you and he ended with ten children to call your own.

First there had been Rickon, followed by Saera, Alys and Rhaeya, then Mariah, Jacearys, Edric, Lyanna, Lucerys and finally Brandon.

The birth of each of your children had filled your halls and your heart, the ache you had felt after the war had finally been filled, and you had felt whole once more.

You had found the happiness you had been chasing and felt contentment and happiness more and more each and every day.

Your love for each other continued to bloom and grow, love so deep that Cregan himself passed only moons after you, your son Jaceaerys, know as Jace ‘one eye’, becoming the lord of Winterfell after his death, though it was your youngest son Brandon that the stark line continued from.

Your legacy was one that would be remembered even a hundred years after your death, songs were still sung in your honour, halls and castle erected in your name, there was even a castle built in your honour on the wall, after your help in the victory against Sylas the grim.

But where your legacy blossomed still was within the walls of Winterfell, where your kin ruled to this day.

“we have Targaryen ancestry, or one ancestor to be precise” Ned Stark spoke to his children, as he walked them down the crypts of Winterfell.

He speak your name, bowing in respect as he approached your statue, your stood beside your husband Cregan Stark, your hands adjoined in a symbol of your love, a love that had become famous amongst the pages of history.

“she was the daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Veleryon, the last rider of Silverwing and the last dragon rider in history. “

Sansa seemed giddy as she looked at her, her ancestor a Targaryen princess.

“did she fight in the dance of the dragons?” Jon asked, looking at his ancestors, noting the similarity in your features with his.

“aye, though she played the role of a diplomat more than a fighter, but she is too thank for several victories, even after the war she helped defend the north against wildings”

His children gasped in surprise, eagerly listening to their father recount the tales of you and your legacy.

“did any of her children have dragons?” Jon asked eagerly.

“aye, each child was given an egg, though only two hatched” he looked to the left towards were your children statues stood, “the ones belonging to Lord Jacearys and Lucerys, named after her brothers” he looked down to Jon, the most egar to here of his ancestors, “though it was said they died and grew no larger than cats“

A sound of disappointment left Jon at the news.

“is it true they were so in love that he died of a broken heart after her death?” Sansa asked.

Ned chuckled, “it was said he did, aye”

Sansa let out a small squealed, “imagine being so in love you can’t bare to live in a world without them” she gushed.

“aye, there love is famous” he said looking up at his ancestors.

“can any of you tell me about their children?

Robb raised his hand enthusiastically, “they had ten in total, though it was their second son Jaceaerys, named after her brother who died in the dance who succeeded Cregan…he then died with no children and was succeeded by Lucerys also named after one of her brothers whose death started the dance of dragons”

“very good Robb…but who succeeded Lucerys?”

“there youngest child, Brandon, who we are descended from” Arya spoke up, as she gazed at the sword at your hip. “was she trained with a sword?” she asked eagerly.

“most likely, she was a fighter, a warrior though most accounts was due to her fighting on the back of silver wing, it was said she killed several men who insulted her brother, King Aegon III and was known to have fought several who questioned her mother, Rhaenyra being a legitimate queen.”

Arya seemed very please with this response, as did Robb and Jon as they admired their 4x great grandmother.

At the feet of their statues laid 3 dragon eggs, long turned to stone, and though neither of them noticed at first, as Ned light the lights surrounding their statues, behind them sat the skull of Silverwing.     

A reminder of house Targaryen, and their power even now years after they had been defeated and banished.

And though you had become a stark you were forever remembered in house Targaryen, with your named reused countless times, a holdfast in the red keep named after you, and gardens throughout Westeros grew a rose named after you.

But whilst you had grown a legacy and left an indent on the history of Westeros, you had not lived to do so.

Your life had been one you had ended up devoting to your family, to love and happiness, no care if your section of the history books was a long one or not.

The first five years of your marriage where the one filled with the most hurdles to cross, with fertility issues and you suffering from depression, it truly tested your marriage but the day your eldest Rickon was born, was the day your life truly became filled with Joy.

Your pregnancy had been spent bed bound to nervous to venture out of it for fear of another miscarriage.

Cregan had moved his office to your shared chambers, insisting on spending every moment you would allow with him. His days spent with you, his meals shared with you in bed, he only left when necessary and even then, he was racing back to be with you.

The birth had scared him, his mind remembering the last birth, how you had laboured for hours knowing full well the babe was already dead.

But this time the babe was perfect, a healthy boy you named Rickon after his father.

You watched him grow and as the years passed more children followed, each and every one of them filling your life with more and more love.

You and Cregan grew inseparable, your duties becoming one as you both ruled Winterfell together.

And after fifteen years of marriage, and the birth of you first five children, Rickon, Saera and Alys, Rhaeya and Mariah, your brothers came to Winterfell on their tour of Westeros.

Aegon and Viserys both married with children of their own were more than happy to see you again, years of letters making up for little of how much you missed your brothers.

“Aegon, Viserys” you greeted as you they rode into Winterfell with the pride and fancy house Targaryen always brought.

“sister” they greeted, coming straight towards you, their boyish looks still in full effect despite being adults in their own right, “I have missed you”

“no more than I have missed you” you replied before introducing your family and household to your brothers.

Your sons and daughters presenting themselves proudly, with your daughter Saera pointing out the similarities between herself and her cousin Daena, they could practically be twins. In both looks and nature.

They caused many a problem during their time in Winterfell, with many pranks and havocked caused as they spent their days freeing horses or practicing with Sareas crossbow, shooting apples above servants heads.

Your eldest Rickon spent most of his time with Daeron, many time spent in the courtyard, sparring or exploring the dragon nest Silverwing had left upon her most recent return from Winterfell.

You watched as your children created bonds with their cousins, bonds that would stick even after the tour. Letters exchanged and your sons Jacearys and Lucerys being sent to ward in Kings Landing.

And whilst they were here your sons Jacearys and Lucerys eggs hatched, small dragons, the first dragons born in near ten years.

Jace’s dragon, a soft shade of white shade, easily blending into the snow. He had named the dragon sōna, the Valyrian word for snow. And though the history books would mark him to be as big as a small housecat, he in truth grew to be the size of a dire wolf, and though not big enough to take a rider on his back, he was known to fly the walls of Winterfell before his death, after falling victim to a stray arrow during one of house starks monthly hunts.

Lukes’s dragon had been named icefyre, he had claimed it was who he was, a merge of ice a fire and so was his dragon. With silver scales and a blue flame, similar to the blue flame of your uncle Daeron’s dragon Tesserion. He too grew to the size of a dire wolf, before accompany Luke south to Kingslanding, ending up on Dragonstone where she was killed by the now wild dragon, Sunfyre.

And though when the tour ended, after being extended moons, with neither side wanting to part from the other, the sadness and regret you felt before when leaving your brothers was no longer, as you where more than happy with the family you had in Winterfell. No longer did you dream of the ghosts of your family, wishing them alive, but now you saw them reborn as each of your children.

In Rickon you saw Jace, he was noble and kind, the perfect future lord. And you saw even more of Jace in him as he died fighting alongside his cousin Daeron, after he had been named king and set to conquer Dorne. Dying before his time, a hero’s death.

In Saera, you saw your mother, Rhaenyra. A fierce and defiant girl, egar and pride. She was smart and quick and though as time passed and you began to forget the faces of those you lost, however you looked at Sarea, you saw your mother.

In Alys you saw Joffrey, shy and kind but egar to prove herself. Going out of her way to prove her loyalty and her devotion to house Stark.

In Rhaeya, you saw your grandmother, Rhaneys. Though she was named in honour of bother her mother and grandmother, her grandmothers laugh, and smile shined through in your girl. She was always riding, though a horse not a dragon, she was a warrior in her own right, fighting in the conquest of Dorne, though she eventually chooses to sheath her sword after she found love in the son of Benjicot Blackwood.

Then there was Mariah, sweet Mariah reminded you of Rhaena, though alive and well with six daughters of her own, she reminded you in every way of your sister. With a fierce heart, hidden behind a sweet temperament.

Jace, who had become Jace one eye at the age of six and ten after an arrow pierced his eye during the conquest of Dorne, he reminded you of you uncle Aemond, before the cruelty took over him. He was determined and fierce, though hidden behind a shy demeaner.

Edric, was the very image of Daemon. Though Stark in looks he was the rouge of her stepfather, careless and wanton, so much so he died before all of his siblings after fighting and loosing a duel against the man who would later marry his sister Lyanna, Lynol Tyrell.

Lyanna, Was you. You looked at her and saw yourself, a girl born out of love, a girl desiring love more than anything in the world. A girl who would fight for what she believed in, no matter the cost.

Lucerys, of cause reminded you of Luke in every way he was your sweet younger brother. In looks and nature he was Luke reborn.

The Brandon, your youngest child, a big age gap, born near ten years after Luke. He seemed to be the image of your husband, fierce and wise, a good lord. Though often driven my lust.

Your legacy was fierce, your blood spread through Westeros as you were remembered in the page of history books for all to read.

“the dance of the dragons” Daenerys read, as she was gifted a book of the history of her family.

“not just the dance, Princess” spoke Ilyrio Mopatis. “this book tells the story of your Ancestor” he spoke your name, and printed out the portrait of you that covered the first page inside.

“A whole book dedicated to one ancestor?” Viserys scoffed, “what was she a conqueror?”

“in some ways” Ilyrio started, “she was a key player in the dance, without her diplomacy the war could have been much longer than it had been”

“Really?” Viserys asked sceptically.

“indeed, read for yourself My prince”

And so they read your tale, and you where once more brough back to life.

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[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader: Together Apart Ch.3

Warnings/Mentions: Merle being Merle, History of abuse, neglect, strong language, mentions of character death, alcohol and drug abuse, ptsd, shared trauma, reader is cold, angst, fluff, eventual smut, slowburn, angst

Summary: You reminisce on the old days spent with Merle and Daryl.

Notes: This is mostly flashbacks to life growing up with Daryl and Merle, the good ole days :D Merle says some homophobic and probably racist stuff, cause he's Merle

“Dude, just go apologize, holy shit. You're worse than the teenage girls I went to school with.”

“Mind your own goddamn business. S’between me and Merle.” 

“He's got a point. You're acting shifty as hell. What happened to leaving? Huh? We've got Merle back, nothing's changed, these people still see us as redneck trash, can we just go already?”

“Said mind your business.”

Hindsight is a bitch.

You were five years old when you met Daryl and Merle for the first time. Unless your memory served you wrong, it was the fourth of July, and the trailer park was getting together to set off a bunch of illegal fireworks. You were sitting with your family as your neighbors got everything ready, a few of them grilling hotdogs and hamburgers. Your father had brought your mother a burger, which she split with you.

Your father was the only black sheep in your lives at that point in time. Anyone could tell just by looking at him that he didn't belong there, in a dingy trailer covered in blotches of mildew and rust. He was always clean shaven, no tattoos, perfect white teeth. He never smoked, never did drugs, never even drank. Even his name stood out among the Tammys, the Justins, Tuckers, Mandys, the Brandons and the Krystals. He was a Sebastian. He always wore clean clothes, and it was a stark contrast to your mother, who was the whole reason he was there in the first place. 

She was nothing like him. She had a beautiful face, sure, but that was about the only thing beautiful about her. Most of her teeth were yellow from cigarettes and drugs, some of them missing, and the molars in the back had eventually all turned black. She was never seen without a cigarette in her fingers, her nails a different bright color everyday. Her clothes always stank of cigarettes and BO, but despite all of that, she wasn’t all that much of a terrible human. Not until later on.

Your mother loved your father, and he loved her. She loved you too, even if she was mean most of the time, she never hit or screamed at you until he left. After that she took a dark turn, becoming a woman you grew to despise. She blamed you for him leaving, but  you knew the truth, she was the reason. She’d relapsed one too many times and he had enough, he left and he took you with him, but CPS ultimately dragged you kicking and screaming from your grandmother's house back to the prison that was your trailer.

That fourth of July was one of the last good memories you had with your parents. Your mother had been clean for seven months, and she looked stunning that night in her pink sundress and purple nail polish. She brought you a freeze pop and you ate it like it was a gourmet dessert, sitting beside her on the grass as you watched your neighbors set up the fireworks. 

When you finished eating you went to play with the group of kids, they would end up becoming your last resemblance of a friend group, a pair of girls your age and a handful of boys. One of the older boys made a rude comment about the DIxon brothers, and you decided to introduce yourself. 

Merle was about sixteen then, maybe seventeen, but he treated you and Daryl like you were the same age, something you deeply admired about him. You threw rocks at beer bottles behind their trailer, and you smoked your first cigarette there, hacking your lungs out, much to their amusement. Merle bragged and showed off his father's gun and crossbow collection, and soon after that their mother shooed you all out of the house like stray cats. 

You wished you could say the three of you became thick as thieves after that, but truthfully you didn't have many memories with them. To echo the point, you weren’t really friends. Just people with similar situations that lived near each other.

You took a deep drag of Daryl's cigarette and pulled away from him, holding it in your lungs. 

He didn’t say anything, and neither did you. You sat in silence, your legs hanging off the bridge you sat upon, sharing one of your last cigarettes. 

You turned a spent shell casing over in your fingers as Daryl flicked the butt into the river below. It was Merle's bullet casing, you knew that, the three of you had been on that bridge a few days prior when he let off a few shots into a small group of walkers. It was small, from the little .22 pistol that he’d borrowed from you. He’d never given it back, and it pained you to assume it was most likely still in his waistband, stuck to his rotting corpse until some other survivor came along and took it. 

“C’mon. Let's get back.” Daryl grunted as he hopped off the ledge and slung his crossbow over his shoulder. This was the only thing he said to you for the rest of the day, and for a while after that. 

Once you had said that your odds of survival were higher when there were more people around. World views change fast, apparently, because when the prison group took in the Woodbury citizens, you felt more at risk than when it had been a group of ten. 

Though you always despised the word ‘outcast’, it was the only word good enough to describe your place in the prison. 

It was easier when Merle had been there. It was only a few days but it was nice, you found yourself making an effort to hang out with him more, something he secretly appreciated. There wasn't anyone in his life anymore that enjoyed spending time with him, aside from Daryl. But some days it felt like not even his baby brother wanted to be around him. 

“You know how to fish?” You had asked him one evening as the two of you walked back from a supply run mostly empty handed. 

“Do you know who you're talkin' to sweetheart? Course I know how to fish.” 

You sat on the riverbank as he dumped his fourth trout into your bucket of water. You had caught one small catfish, and that seemed to do wonders for his pride, it gave him another thing to brag about doing better than anyone else in camp. 

“Little asskickers gonna have her first taste of good ole American fish tonight.” Merle laughed proudly, wiping his hands on his pants. 

“I don't think babies can eat fish. I don't think they can eat anything but formula.” You commented and stood from your spot, pulling in your makeshift fishing line. 

“A lil’ fish can't hurt.”

“No, seriously. I don't think she can have any.”

“Psh.” He muttered and picked up the bucket. “Useless fuckers. Can't eat, can't speak, can't walk, hell.”

Before the outbreak, you'd spent the most time with the eldest Dixon brother. Only to buy or trade drugs, occasionally getting high together, but it was still time spent in each other's presence. He very much enjoyed doing speed and teaching you things, normally how to shoot different types of guns, or just sitting in some random person's house listening to his rants about racism, homophobia, whatever he felt passionate about that day. 

“It just ain't natural, and I said, you couldn't pay me a cold million to touch one of you shitlickers. Yessir.” He was laughing then, amused in his retelling of some high school escapade that you weren't really paying attention to. Merle could be tasteless at times, and it was of no interest to you, you were enjoying your expensive high and there was no way in hell you were going to ruin it by getting into an argument with someone like him. 

You must've dozed off, because the long, drawn-out yell of your name had your heavy head lolling back up to see Merle a foot away from you. A grin split onto his face and he slapped your shoulder. “C'mon. Got a hot date, wouldn't look too good bringin’ your ass around. Get up. C'mon now!” 

Maybe you should've stuck around, cause he ended up getting a nasty case of gonorrhea from her. About a week later you found out from the man himself, standing in front of the coolers in your local gas station. They didn't sell gas anymore, too expensive, but they didn't lose any customers. 

“Should'a known a bitch that ugly would be crawlin’ with it.” He cursed, hiking up a six pack of beer on his shoulder as he followed you to checkout, his little shadow following behind.

“Told ya. Just didn't listen.” Daryl muttered, swiping a pack of cigarettes to slip into his back pocket. 

“Yeah, well, that's cause you don't know jack shit about women. The hell would I listen to you for?” 

“Even I could've told you that.” You spoke around the SlimJims between your lips as you handed the cashier a crumpled up ten dollar bill. She said nothing about you obviously being underaged and buying a cheap bottle of wine, everyone in town knew about your mother. “That's what you get for being a dick to that poor kid.”

“You talkin' about that-” The noisy chime of the bells above the front door covered his derogatory choice of words. 

“Those men, yeah. Don't know why it's so hard for you to leave people alone.”

“Cause it's America sweetheart, ain't no place for that kind of degeneracy here.” 

You bit back your quip concerning the women he surrounded himself with and looked to Daryl, who was too busy flipping through an obscene magazine to notice.

You weren't the model student after your father left. Most days were spent by yourself in the surrounding woods, fucking around until the buses prepared to leave. On the rare occasion that you had company, it was usually the senior you bought drugs from. He was weird, overly gentle with a very soft voice, something about him extremely off putting. 

Maybe things would've been different if you had been friends with Daryl back in school. He had only gone for a little while, using any and every excuse to get out of that house, even if it did include going from one prison to another. You weren't sure when he dropped out (technically he didn't drop out, he just stopped showing up), but it was right around the time Merle was out of prison. 

They left their father then, moving from couch to couch, and eventually ended up staying with another dealer you were vaguely familiar with. 

“Holy shit, look at you!” Merle whistled playfully after realizing it was you that had just come through the door. 

“The fuck? Merle?” You could barely recognize him. He looked so different from the last time you saw him, hardened by the months in prison. Daryl looked different too, he'd started growing some facial hair and looked a bit larger as well. It had been about a year or two since your last encounter, so it was to be expected. They stood up from the couch they sat on to greet you, Merle offering you a hit from his glass pipe, which you declined. 

“Nah, you know I never liked that shit.”

Merle snickered and held his lighter flame under the glass orb. “Right, right. Forgot you were too classy for crystal. Only the,” he tapped the side of his nostril, “for you.”

You caught up in the dealer's living room, some guy named Jesse, and enjoyed your purchases. You were happy then, for a few reasons. Jesse's shit was a lot better than what you were used to, so you found yourself a new reliable source, but also because you got to see Daryl again. You got to see him laughing, joking, no black eyes or busted lips. You got time with them as they were, before the world changed. 

You found yourself missing that time, watching as Daryl flung dirt over his shoulder into the grass behind him. It was the present, and you were sitting beside the hole he dug, too hungry to help. You'd forgotten to eat breakfast that morning and it was too early for lunch to be ready, whatever it was Carol or Beth had fixed up for the prison members. 

“What do you think Jesse's up to?” 

Daryl squinted against the sun to focus on you, momentarily pausing his digging. “Who?”

“That dealer you guys used to stay with. Beanie guy.” 

“Oh, yeah. Shit.” He grunted and stretched his back, happy for a break from grave digging. “Hell, I don't know. Probably dead.”

“You think? He seemed pretty tough to me.”

Daryl laughed abruptly at that. “Guy was a prick, but he wasn't no ‘tough guy’. Would go straight to usin’ guns instead of fightin’ like a real man.” 

You would never discover the fate of Jesse, but the decision to bring Daryl's mind back to wander in the past did wonders for bringing the two of you closer once again. 

To everyone's surprise, including you, Daryl dealt with his brother's death far better than you had. You'd expected he'd want to leave after that, go live alone and shut out everyone else. He didn't though, he cried a few times, sure, he got distant and chose to only keep you as company, but while you were still angry and grieving, he was laughing and forming bonds with the new group members. 

You weren't too sure why Merle's death had devastated you that much, the two of you weren't exactly best friends. Maybe it was due to the fact that he was one of the only two things keeping you connected to your past life, even though it was awful, it was better than the constant looming threat of being eaten by dead people. As shitty as your mundane life was, it would have gotten better, one day you would've been stronger than your mother and you would've stood up for yourself, put an end to the physical abuse, and if you were lucky you could've been able to leave and find your father and brother. 

Now Daryl truly was the only bit that remained, not counting material possessions. 

The same went for Daryl as well. The difference between you and him though was that the loss of his brother turned into a good thing. He was no longer a shadow of another human, no longer basing his ideals and opinions on said human. While you dealt with the pain by using Daryl as a crutch, he used it to find out who the unbiased Daryl was, abandoning the ‘Merle Dixon’s kid brother' persona. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx

[shining-m00nlight]

Brothers Pride

This is chapter Two of "It's tragedy that binds us". Ned thinks about how Brandon reacted to their father telling them that Ned would marry Catelyn. It's my dear Theas birthday and this is her gift!! Happy Birthday @ladycatofwinterfell !!!

Here is a link if you want to read the first chapter too.

"Brother!!!" Brandon Stark's voice boomed over the drawbridge of Riverrun. Obviously not caring for etiquette or courtesy, he crashed into Ned to

force him into a hug. Not having expected such an enthusiastic greeting from his brother Ned stumbled back, pulling Brandon with him. The pair of brothers had to try really hard to stay up right and not fall onto the ground in front of the whole staff of Riverrun and the small host of people the Starks had brought with them. If Ned was a person who would easily blush, he was sure he would have.

His brother's hug had surprised him a lot. He was sure Brandon would still be angry with him. He had been when their father had announced that Ned would marry Catleyn Tully instead of Brandon. 

--------------------------Flashback--------------------------

"What? No way am I allowing this!" Brandon yelled at their father after Rickard finished explaining to his sons what he and the new Lady Tully had agreed upon. 

"You will not have to allow anything! As I am your father and the Lord of Winterfell and as such I do not seek your approval but I am informing you about a decision I have made and you two will abide by. And you will do so in a manner fitting to

your station without bringing shame to the family

by yelling about a castel we are guests in!"

Brandon did not seem as if he wanted to heed

their fathers words.

"Well apparently Ned will not be a guest here for long. Rather he will be the Lady of this castel, spreading his legs to bear little trouts for the Riverlands." 

At that Rickard  Stark struck his son in the face. 

"You will not speak such crudness to me boy! You might think you're a man grown but don't you dare forget who I am and who we are! You will not speak about your family in this manner ever again! Not in front of me and not in front of anyone else. Am I understood?" 

Brandon still frowned at their father but nodded.

"This alliance is important for this family! I will not lose it because of your childish temperament or your hurt ego. Lady Tully's brother is dead, her sister not fit to be the Lady of Winterfell so Ned marrying her and staying at Riverrun is how we keep this ally!"

Rickard Stark ended his speech, looking more at Brandon, then at Ned. Brandon looked back at their father, pouting. The slap his father gave him obviously having bruised his ego more than his body. While it was clear he still wasn't agreeing with his father, he apparently had decided it was better to keep his thoughts to himself. Something that truly only their fathers authority could accomplish, Ned thought to himself. 

The Lord of Winterfell now turned to his second son. 

"You, Ned! You will marry the Tully girl and represent our house with pride here in the south! I know you haven't expected any of this but I am confident that you will be fine and make me proud son." 

Ned nodded: 

"I will do my best, father. I will marry Lady Tully as you command." 

"Good! I knew that I could trust you to do the right thing for our house. Lady Tully will be a good wife to you. I am sure of it. She is smart and capable. I l am almost disappointed that she won't be Brandon's wife but she does live by her house's words. "Family, Duty, Honor" and to her it's her duty to stay in Riverrun and to her it's what's best for her family. Which I have to agree with. 

You might not know much about your future bride, son but you know that she will be a good mother to your children and the rest you will learn in time" 

Ned nodded again. If he was being honest he hadn't really thought about his future wife all too much since his father told them the news an hour ago. He had been too distracted by Brandon glaring at him, as if he was personally responsible for the deaths of Edmure and Hoster Tully. 

All of Ned's thoughts were concentrated on Brandon and on trying to figure out what he would do l or say when their father wasn't with them anymore and how he should react. 

Ned was fairly certain that Brandon was not in love with the Lady Tully. The times Brandon and Ned had seen eachother in the years since Brandon and Catelyns betrothal Ned had never heard Brandon to declare deep love and devotion to the young maiden. He had talked about her beauty, that was for sure but he never talked of deeper, more meaningful things. 

On the contrary Brandon's words had often gotten more crude the more he drank and his descriptions became less and less fitting to be used for a lady of a great house. But of course Ned couldn't be completely certain, maybe l Brandon did love her. Which would mean that he would hate Ned forever. 

Ned was just about to direct his thoughts more towards the young women who would be his wife within the next few days when his father spoke again.

"I think everything has been said for now. I shall retire for the night. Tomorrow we will finalize the plans and the agreement and then everything will hopefully go on smoothly till we depart for Winterfell again. I expect of you to behave properly and go to your assigned chambers soon as well. And please remember that Riverrun and especially the Tully family is still grieving a great loss! So act accordingly. Good night boys" 

This time Rickard Stark didn't wait for the reactions of his sons but turned around immediately and left the study the Tullys had provided them with. 

Ned wanted to follow hoping he could give his brother some time and space to calm his nerves but Brandon had a different idea. When Ned tried to step out of the study the older Stark grabbed his arm and pulled him back in. 

"You can't honestly agree to this" 

He wasn't yelling. it was more of a growl. At least he was aware enough that their father was still so close that he would come running back should the shouts of his oldest reach his ear. Probably not hesitating to correct his behavior again in a less than gentle way. Ned tried to stay calm. 

"It is what father decided. There is nothing for me to agree or disagree with Brandon. Father and the Lady Tully made a decision and we must abide by it." 

Brandon grunted:

"The "Lady Tully" ,he said, his voice dripping with condensation, "the day before we arrived she was still Lady Catelyn or even the Tully girl and now she suddenly is "Lady Tully"

"Because she is Brandon. Because her father and her brother died! Or have you forgotten?" 

The look of guilt flashed over Brandons face but it only stayed for half a second then it turned back to spitefulness.

"Oh come on Neddy you can't tell me your honestly ok with Her and father deciding over your future without even consulting you!" 

It certainly wasn't Neds' favorite thing in the world, knowing that once again other people had made a decision affecting his life forever without as much as a word of warning. But he had the feeling Brandon meant that he would have a specific problem with the word "her" in his sentence which Ned couldn't confirm to him. 

Ned did not see what difference it would have made if instead of Lady Tully, one of fathers bannerman would have been the other party not consulting him on his future or wishes for it. The difference would have been his fathers words after making an agreement but the thing Ned would have liked to have been different, his involvement in the negotiations, wouldn't have changed. 

Not that Ned was ungrateful or didn't understand

his fathers decision. It was a good way to keep the alliance despite the tragedy that had occurred. He also wouldn't dare to complain about being married to the beautiful Lady of a great House but for once it would have been nice to at least been asked if he was fine and not just told he would be. 

He could not voice these thoughts to his hod headed brother though. Duty might have been one of the Tully words but Ned also understood its meaning.

"Again it is not my place to question father and it is my duty to marry for our house and listen to fathers commands." 

The small hope that those words would end their conversation died immediately when Brandon, now a bit closer to yelling and Ned's face, spit out. 

"Your duty is to fuck my girl then huh?!" 

Ned was uncertain what he could answer his brother and tried to think of a response. However Brandon didn't even give him the time to say one word before continuing to get in Ned face to complain some more. 

"It is your duty to get what I have been waiting for, l for so long? Oh I'm sure it was hard for you to take on such hard duty, getting to live a nice life here in the south with nothing to do as you have a wife that will be responsible for everything important in the castle and in the Riverlands. Being able to just relax and enjoy your life must have been such a hard thing to have to agree to."

Brandon didn't seem to see the irony in first accusing Ned in hiding his displeasure at the situation and changing it to accusing him of eagerly wanting it. He just continued ranting. Had Ned paid closer attention to his brother's face he might have noticed the change from anger to something a bit more calculated.

"Though now that I think about it little brother it might become a difficult duty to accomplish for you as I believe pleasing your Lady shall be part of it. From seeing how you interact with the fairer sex I am sure she will be disappointed outside but especially inside the bedroom. Considering she will compare you to me!" 

Ned stood there in silent shocked at his brother's words. Brandon had apparently decided that his words would end their talk as walked out of the room leaving Ned behind. 

Ned still tried to comprehend his brother's words. Did his brother just confess to taking Lady Tully's maidenhead? Surely he couldn't have been this stupid. If their father or worse, Hoster Tully would have found out, they would have had Brandons head. How could his brother have been so reckless?! 

Ned's head began to pain him the more he thought about not just Brandon's words but every word spoken in the last two hours. Slowly Ned's head started to swim and his thoughts overlapped and got out of control. 

In his probably last coherent thought of the day Ned decided it would be best for him to go to bed and deal with everything tomorrow as his father had said before. The next morning he hadn't been quite sure how he had found his chamber but he had been glad he did.

-----‐--‐------------------Flashback End-----------------------

After that day he and Brandon had barely talked. All of their interactions had been short and in the presents of others. The few exceptions were when Brandon would whisper crude japes in Ned's ear, most insinuating that Ned is displeasing to all women by simply standing near them.

Therefor Ned was understandably confused to be

greeted by his brother this way and so he only cautiously hugged him back to welcome him.

"Welcome to Riverrun, brother" 

Ned said as their hug entangled. Then he turned to his father. Though curious to find out what had changed his brother's attitude this drastically, surely time couldn't be the only factor, he could not forget to greet his family properly as was expected of him. He didn't want his wife to think he would scorn duty in the face of family and forget that he represented Riverrun when greeting guests. 

His wife, who had still been standing right next to him when Brandon had crashed into him, was already greeting Rickard Stark. The rest of his siblings standing right beside them. 

On her face a true smile that made her eyes sparkle and could only mean she was already reporting to them how little Robb was faring. Fitting to her eyes, her hair was shining thanks to the sun. 

She was a true beauty, his wife. Brandon had not exaggerated when speaking about it. But Ned had also come to learn that there was so much more about his wife. Things that Brandon either didn't know or didn't think were important enough to tell Ned about. 

Before Ned could further dwell on his wifes many qualities another of his siblings yelled his name and ran into his arms.

[ladycatofwinterfell]

If given the choice, part 2

Summary: One day a strange woman comes to his castle and brings him the promise of a choice. Ned can get his brother and sister back if he so chooses, but of course there is a price to pay.

I got a comment on the last chapter and was immediately thrown back into this fic, so have another part!

Ned would have wept if he had been able to. He looked at the children sitting at the table and wished he had never seen them. They were not his children, his children were no longer in the world. It was his fault. His children were lost, Catelyn was wed to his brother. And worst of all was that that was the way it should have been. Had his sister and brother survived the war that would have been his reality.

Though it was still sweet and he hated himself for it. Because he looked at Lyanna and Brandon, they lived. They smiled, they laughed, they were happy and alive. They had grown older. He was happy for that he saw them, but it was tainted by his loss. Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon and even Jon. They were all gone.

He could not eat, even the thought of taking a bite made him want to retch. He sat in silence and merely watched the others. It felt like he was in a ghost story. For so many years they had been dead, he had mourned them for almost as long as he had been wed to Catelyn. Suddenly it was all gone, suddenly they sat there.

“Are you sure you’re well?” Lyanna whispered, leaning towards him.

He had noticed how she glanced at him every now and then. At first the others had also seemed to worry because of what had happened earlier but they quickly forgot about it.

If only he could have told her what it was that took place inside his mind. For a moment he considered telling her about everything, where he came from and what he knew to be true. But if he did they would all think he was crazy. And how was he supposed to set everything right then?

“I had a strange dream” he said. “It left me confused.”

When he saw her all he wanted was to hold her. Take her into his embrace and never let go. He had to find a way to reverse what had been done, but that meant she would be dead again. His sister, his little sister. Older, a woman grown. She had grey streaks in her hair, just as he had, and there were lines on her face.

Was she married? Did she have children? Was she a permanent resident of Winterfell? He couldn’t ask. The worst part was that he wanted to know the answers to those same questions for himself.

“What was it about?”

“A different life.”

His real life, his true life. His children, Catelyn.

He couldn’t keep himself from looking at her as he thought of it. She was much slimmer than he knew her to be, not as round about the belly and hips. If the boy was of age with Sansa it had been more than ten years since she last carried a child. And only two of them. It was not so strange she was thinner, her features sharper.

Catelyn met his eyes and gave him a small smile before turning back to her daughter. There was some familiarity in that twisted reality. Catelyn’s smile.

“Why do you stare at Catelyn?” Lyanna asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“I just got stuck.”

He longed for her comfort so much that his heart ached. Everything was confusing, his mind was a mess, he needed advice. For years and years she had been a comfort and also a close adviser. They didn’t always agree, but he trusted her judgment when he himself was lost. How was he to set things straight if he was all alone?

“You’re acting strange and at the same time so very much like yourself” Lyanna chuckled. “Oh dearest Ned, you confuse us all.”

It was too much, everything was too much. He couldn’t stay there.

“Excuse me” he managed to get out.

Then he pushed his chair out and left the table without looking at them. He heard how the conversation died and everyone became quiet, he guessed they were staring after him. He walked in silence down the hall and out into the cold morning, hoping for that no one would follow him.

Winterfell looked the same even though nothing else did, and soon he found himself walking towards the godswood. The gods had to know his struggle, perhaps they would help him if they heard his prayer. They could take him back to where he belonged, give life back to his children. His sons and daughters. His heart ached at the thought of them. What had he done?

The silence of the godswood was another familiar thing. Swept in snow, not a sound could be heard except for the rustling leaves of the weirwood. It looked down at him with it’s bloody eyes, always ready to listen and pass judgment. He stood before it and for the briefest of seconds everything was as it was supposed to be. Though quickly it was washed away and with a deep sigh he kneeled in the snow, bowing his head down.

He wanted them all, Lyanna and Brandon and Catelyn and the children. But that was impossible. It was a choice, he had made the choice, and he didn’t know how to reverse it. Lyanna and Brandon had asked if he would have them, he had answered unknowing of all the things that depended on it. He had missed them for years, there was a hole in him that could never be filled because the people who belonged there were dead. But he couldn’t choose them over the children. The children of his body and of his heart.

“Put the world right. Let me go back to my children and my wife. Let Lyanna and Brandon be at peace.”

When he opened his eyes and looked up again he found himself unable to stand. His body was as weak as his spirit, the despair so strong he couldn’t fight it. He had been content. Happy, even. He had five strong children, a wife who loved him, people he would do anything to protect. Suddenly it was ripped from him and in return he got ghosts. They weren’t alive, not truly. And they didn’t know the horrors that should have been their ends. Ropes, swords, flowers, bloody mattresses.

After what could have been hours he managed to find his feet, somewhat unstable after the time spent on his knees. He walked slowly out of the godswood and a gentle snow began to fall, as so often in Winterfell. What was normally so beautiful seemed ugly and mocking then. How could a snowfall be so calm when nothing was right? It should have been a storm.

He had just barely left the glade of the weirwood when something moved in the corner of his eye. He quickly turned his head, but saw nothing. Not even a squirrel or a bird, he was completely alone in the godswood. The snow played tricks on him.

“Father!”

He twirled around with such haste that he almost fell over. There had been a voice, he had heard it very clearly. He even knew that voice, it belonged to Arya. Yet there was no one there. No little girl came running towards him, no one jumped into his arms and presented him with a little trinket they had found. Not only was everything wrong in the world, he was turning mad. Hearing the voices of children that no longer existed.

“Arya” he said softly, despite knowing that no one was there to hear him.

His youngest daughter. As he continued his walk through the godswood he almost wished he would hear her voice another time, just because it had been so sweet.

The issue with leaving the godswood was that he had little idea about where to go. What was his purpose when he wasn’t lord? Did he always live in Winterfell? Was he there to visit? Was he wed? Did he have other children? He knew nothing of himself.

“Father!”

Ned’s heart skipped a beat, and he stopped. But didn’t turn. He knew Bran wouldn’t be there. He couldn’t bear the disappointment. Why did he hear their voices?

“Bran” he responded.

Then he was outside the gates to the godswood. His steps were slow, his body heavy. Where was he supposed to go, what could he do? Did he have a way to get hold of the grey woman? He had never seen her before, he knew nothing of who she was and where she came from. He was stuck.

The dread was overwhelming, heavy as a stone on his chest. His breaths were short, the air never fully reached his lungs. He felt dizzy, the castle began spinning around him. What had he done? What had he done what had he done what had he done? His legs weren’t strong enough to carry him any longer.

For a very short moment he felt the cool snow against his cheek as his body hit the ground.

~*~

At first it was hard to make out what he saw when he slowly managed to open his eyes. There was a grey sky, and it was snowing. The snowflakes were soft when they touched his face, and the cold of it was soothing. He blinked and saw another thing. A pair of blue eyes, a freckled face, a mop of red hair.

“Robb” Ned heard himself mumble.

“Someone find Luwin!” Robb yelled.

Oh, Maester Luwin.

“There’s no need.”

He began pushing himself up into a sitting position, slowly but surely. Everything was still a bit fuzzy but nothing was spinning anymore, the castle stood firm around him. He tried to blink away the fog, clear his head.

“Did something happen, Uncle?”

Ned looked again at the boy kneeling next to him. Met his blue gaze, the eyes he had after his mother. And saw that it was Brandon’s boy. Jonnel. He looked so much like Robb, but he also clearly belonged to Brandon. He had his nose, his mouth.

“No, everything is well.”

It felt like a horror story, one of those that Nan told the children when she wanted them to listen intently. His son, his Robb, but it wasn’t him. His face was twisted into something he didn’t recognise, he was the son of his brother.

“You collapsed!”

He even had a similar voice.

“I feel much better now.”

Ned was surprised by that he could speak at all.

He looked away from Jonnel, began brushing away snow from his clothes. The cold had seeped through the layers of clothing, got all the way to his skin. How long had he been out for?

Ned found his feet, ignoring Jonnel’s protests about that perhaps it was better for him to stay on the ground until Maester Luwin could come and examine him.

“You needn’t worry, Jonnel” Ned said after what had to be a minute of nervous rambling from the boy.

“Eddard!”

A sigh escaped him as he saw Catelyn and Maester Luwin hurrying towards them. Maester Luwin had a worried frown on his face, Catelyn somehow managed to be even worse. He wasn’t thrilled to see it. He wasn’t thrilled to see her.

“What is happening?” Catelyn asked, a little out of breath.

“Uncle Ned just fainted” Jonnel told them.

“Are you not feeling well, my lord?” Maester Luwin asked.

“I cannot say what happened, but I feel perfectly well now. Nothing to speak of.”

How many times would he have to say it? It was a lie, nothing was well. Everything was wrong. Though they didn’t know that and he wouldn’t enlighten them. He couldn’t enlighten them.

“Are you entirely sure about that?” Catelyn said. “You look quite pale.”

He hated how he wanted to smile at her, kiss her cheek and tell her that she worried too much. She wasn’t his wife, she wasn’t the Catelyn that he loved. He knew that and still his instinct was that she was the same.

“I am sure” Ned responded. “Entirely sure.”

Even a halfwit would have been able to tell that none of them believed him.

“I must insist you go back to your chamber for some rest before continuing the day” Maester Luwin. “To avoid further… accidents.”

Perhaps it wasn’t entirely unwise. That way he would not have to see them. Though how was he supposed to figure out how to get himself away from there if he stayed in a bedchamber? There was little chance of the grey lady simply visiting him again.

“If you say so then I will follow your advice.”

It was impossible to deny that he needed time to consider. She had said that once the decision was made it was over and couldn’t be reversed. He knew that, her words echoed in his mind. A whisper reminding him of just how grave a mistake he had made. Though he had to try. He would not be able to live with himself if he didn’t try.

“I will walk with you” Catelyn said, holding out her arm.

“There is no need.”

Ned turned on his heel and set his path towards the keep. He couldn’t look at any of them any longer, couldn’t stand hearing her voice.

He had only taken a few steps before he was forced to stop again.

“I insist” Catelyn said sharply.

For a brief moment he contemplated ignoring her. Even went so far as to taking another small step forward.

“Eddard.”

He could feel her eyes burning against the back of his head. Not that it had ever stopped him.

“It is unnecessary, my lady” he sighed. “I am sure you have much more urgent matters to see to.”

“Not urgent enough not to walk with you to your chamber” she simply responded.

He heard her come up behind her, didn’t look at her as she took his arm.

“You are being rude” she informed him as they began walking together.

“My apologies” he replied shortly.

Damn her and her insistency. Unlike her looks it hadn’t changed. She was the same. He didn’t want her to be.

“I am very happy we do not have to send a raven to King’s Landing informing them of that something terrible has befallen you” Catelyn said. “Lady Barbrey would never have forgiven us. And I do not even want to imagine what His Grace would have done.”

Ned stopped dead in his tracks. King’s Landing? Did he live in King’s Landing? And why did she speak of Lady Barbrey? Was she his wife? Was he married to Barbrey Ryswell? If he had a wife what was to say he didn’t have children as well? Other children.

Catelyn had also been pulled to a stop, their arms still linked together. She looked at him, once more those wrinkles on her forehead appeared. He wished he could have kissed them away.

“I had not even considered that” he said.

He continued walking as if that was the sole reason for that he had stopped. Once more he felt queasy.

“Your wife knows how to hold a grudge, she would resent us until her death.”

“She certainly does.”

Barbrey Ryswell had no love of him, not after her husband’s death. He could not imagine she loved him any more in that twisted place. How had he come to wed her? Why was their home in King’s Landing? Were they part of Robert’s court? Was Robert even the king? He had apparently lived a whole life and knew nothing of it, nothing of himself. If only he had known something. Everything was blank, four-and-thirty years. That was a long time.

“How come Lady Barbrey did not join you?” Catelyn asked.

He wanted to ask the same question.

“She prefers the comfort of court” he tried, hoping it was an answer that was plausible.

“Understandable, after years of being a lady-in-waiting to the queen I can imagine it is hard to see the appeal of the north.”

If Lady Barbrey was a lady-in-waiting to the queen, what position did he have?

“The north is far more appealing than King’s Landing.”

Catelyn snorted.

“You certainly are a northerner to the bone.”

What else was he supposed to be?

The remaining part of their journey was made in painful silence. He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know her. And she didn’t seem to have much more to say either. They were not strangers to each other, but they were far enough apart for it to hurt. His wife, his beloved wife, what had he done? He wanted to beg her for forgiveness despite that she had no idea about what had happened.

“Listen to the good maester and rest” she told him when they reached the chamber where he had woken up that morning.

He hadn’t considered that he didn’t wish to spend time in that room at all. It wasn’t his chamber, it had never been. Not even when he was a boy, that room had belonged to Brandon then. Nothing was right, nothing. And what could he do about it?

“I will.”

“Good.”

She removed her arm, nodded once towards him before she was on her way. He imagined there was something different about how she walked but it was most likely only his imagination. His Catelyn. He longed for her, he was drowning.

He went inside the chamber, closed the door behind him and leaned his back against it. He was completely and utterly lost. What was he to do? What could he do? He had to find the grey woman, make her reverse it. He couldn’t live out the rest of his days that way. His children, he needed them. He might as well have killed them with his own hands. Would there be blood if he looked?

He walked over to the windows, opened them. He feared he would suffocate otherwise. His grip on the window sill was so tight that his knuckles whitened, he didn’t care. He stood perfectly still, looked out over the yard, the activity below him. No one knew. It was nothing but another day for them. Were they even real? Was it all a dream? If he fell asleep would he wake up with his arms around Catelyn?

Without closing the windows he went to the bed, sat on the edge of it. Though he never had time to lie down as there came a knock on the door. Before he had time to ask who it was the door had opened and Lyanna poked her head inside.

He would have rather taken an iron fist to the face than the wave that crashed over him as he saw her.

“You know I am not at all opposed to a little cold, but shouldn’t you close those windows?” she said.

Ned took a deep breath, tried to find his words and failed. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth, he could say nothing, it all got stuck in his throat.

Lyanna came inside, pushed the door closed behind her. With a few long strides she was at the windows and a second later they were closed. Had he been able to he would have begged her to let them stay open.

“I heard you were not feeling well, so I take it we are not going hawking.”

Had he promised her they would go hawking?

“I’m sorry” he managed to say.

“You don’t have to apologise, we can do it tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. There are many days until we both are set to leave Winterfell again.”

She turned to him, smiling. It wasn’t the wolfish grin he remembered so clearly, it was softer. Had she always smiled that way, were his memories false? Or was that smile different? Was she different? What had happened to her when she did not meet her demise in a tower in Dorne? His sister, his little sister, his beloved Lyanna.

“You can rest, brother, clearly you are in need of it.”

He had never been in such desperate need of rest and he had never been so sure of that he would never get it. He could lie down and close his eyes, even sleep, but he would never be able to truly rest.

Lyanna came to sit next to him, poking him the side. When he flinched she laughed.

“You seem more dire than usual.”

He was much more dire than usual and who could fault him for it? Everyone, they knew nothing.

“Do forgive me.”

“I always forgive you.”

Even if he returned to a place where she was dead? Where he raised her son as his own bastard? Where he had claimed Brandon’s place after him, taken Catelyn to wife? She would have been furious, she would not have understood in the least.

She moved closer to him, rested her head on his shoulder. Without thinking of it he laid an arm around her, held her to him.

“Weakling” she said softly.

He was so very weak, so terribly frail. She made him so. She had been dead for so long it was an eternity, and still he held her.

“Must you always be mean?” he asked.

“Now you’re just proving me right.”

Her smile was different, her sharp tongue was the same. He cherished it, it was the sweetest thing he had ever heard. He was perfectly aware of that he wasn’t supposed to be there, still he couldn’t help but lean into her comfort.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Another Life

Pairing(s): implied/referenced Rhaegar Targaryen x Stark!Reader, Ned Stark x Catelyn Tully, Robert Baratheon x Cersei Lannister

Warnings: canonical character death, illegitimacy, cat actually loves jon in this story, drabble, short, robert and cersei actually like eachother

Words: 1269

Lyanna watches Jon from atop of the courtyard's parapet, her eyes crinkling with pride as she watches Jon best Theon Greyjoy at the dance of swords. Every victory Jon made resulted in him outgrowing the label of bastard. He was so much more than a bastard of Winterfell. Not even Catelyn saw him as such. Many were so shocked when the news came that Ned had brought back his bastard one day. In fact Cat had shown up at Winterfell by his side as he held the infant in his arms, for she was one of three that knew the truth about Jon Snow.

Heartache nibbles at her heart when she recalls fifteen years prior. She remembers her sister (y/n). The fever of her cheeks as she held her newborn son in her arms. But she wasn't faring well. Birth rendered her near lifeless, allowing her to slip slowly away into the Stranger's arms. It was only a matter of time. She refused to leave the Tower of Joy, understood her fate as well as her siblings and sister-in-law did. (y/n) had just been content with the fact that she'd birthed a healthy baby boy.

"Jon." Her watery eyes turn up to Lyanna. "His name is Jon."

After Rhaegar's closest friend. Jon Connington was the one to deliver the note to Winterfell, ensuring it fell into the safe hands of the young Warden of the North himself. He'd been instructed by his revered lady, Princess (y/n) Targaryen.

The name was a slap to the face. A year prior to the birth of her son, (y/n) had supposedly been kidnapped by Rhaegar Targaryen who was supposed to marry Elia Martell the following day. Both up and vanished without a trace. Lord Rickard Stark was beside himself with grief and agony that they stormed to the capital to demand answers from King Aerys himself. Lord Rickard and his heir Brandon accused the king of hiding the location of Rhaegar and (y/n), said that she was to be returned immediately and the prince punished. But Aerys didn't take kindly to the slander they were slewing against the crown. He had them executed.

Ensuing blood shed consumed the Seven Kingdoms. Rhaegar appeared only on the battlefield with his own men. They fought against not just the king, but Ned and his own allies which included Storm's End. No sign of (y/n) nearby.

After Robert Baratheon killed Rhaegar and the regicide of the Mad King by the young lion Jaime Lannister, there was still no clue as to where (y/n) could be.

Robert, though it was Jaime who slew the king, secured the Iron Throne for himself. That meant Lyanna would be queen as she was engaged to Robert. She refused.

When Ned implored her to marry Robert, she gave him the tongue lashing of the century but it did the job in shutting him up. He couldn't force Lyanna to do something she didn't want to. That lesson was learned in childhood. If she desired to stay in the North then she would stay. Slighted at first, it didn't take him long to choose another bride. Cersei Lannister. A beautiful couple. Lyanna was happy that Robert even seemed to be truly smitten with the golden haired girl. They couldn't keep their hands off of each other.

Or so she was told. She couldn't attend their lavish wedding, not when her sister was still out there somewhere.

Day and night she worked in searching for (y/n). Northmen scattered across the vast land took part in looking for her.

They'd nearly given up.

And then Jon Connington delivered a letter in (y/n)'s handwriting.

She and Rhaegar had eloped. Rhaegar couldn't marry Elia Martell, he didn't love her but there was absolutely no way that Aerys would let him marry (y/n) Stark. Even (y/n) had kept her love for him a secret from everyone in her family.

Getting married as soon as they could. They had a short honeymoon for the war started shortly after. Jon Connington was entrusted with (y/n)'s safety, and though he wanted to be with Rhaegar on the battlefield, he held (y/n) in high regard. He agreed without much hesitation.

Soon she discovered she was pregnant. The pregnancy wasn't going well for her. She was constantly sick and weak. She didn't have long.

In her note, (y/n) specifically wanted Lyanna, Ned and his new bride to come. Only them. They were not to tell anyone else. Cat was loathe to leave her own baby Robb but knew how important this was for Ned and his family so of course she agreed to go. Leaving Robb pained her.

Jon was but a week old by the time they arrived to the Tower of Joy. The Sword of the Morning himself stood guard at the tower's entrance.

The babe was healthy. The same couldn't be said of his mother.

She was gaunt, so gray. This wasn't the sister Ned and Lyanna grew up with. Her smile was still the same though, even if it was a little strained. To each of them she spoke to, having the other two wait.

All of them, including Jon Connington and Arthur Dayne were to take this secret to their graves.

(y/n) died two days later.

"I know that look."

Lyanna jolts at Ned's voice, ripped from her melancholic memories. She presses her lips together. Ned grew into a fine lord. A horde of children filled the halls of the castle. Among them was the boy they thought their bastard brother. "Sometimes I can't help but think about her when I see him. He has her big, sweet eyes."

Ned nods. "He does." He rests his forearms on the wooden rail and looks down into the courtyard where Jon swung his sword in the way that Arthur Dayne had shown him that morning. Off to the distance was Jon Connington watching with a close eye. Theon and Robb are trying it out as well.

Jon was thriving. No one caught on to the truth of him. Never even breaching the surface. Many asked who the mother was since Ned agreed to claim fathership over him.

Bittersweet for the siblings watching their nephew grow up without his real mother and father. It was better this way. (y/n) wanted her son to grow up in the north opposed to the death and discrimination he might receive from being raised in the capital. Not just that, but Robert Baratheon was now entirely against the entire Targaryen line. He was already trying to locate the missing Prince Viserys and Princess Daenerys with plans to execute them if they're ever found. Children. It was insane that his queen was supporting the king's search for them. His claim to the throne was in danger as long as there was even one Targaryen left alive. And unfortunately Jon was included.

That day his sister died, Ned swore to her that he would protect Jon with his life; even if that meant protecting him against his own friend he thought of as a brother. Lyanna, Ned and Cat had spent sleepless nights speaking about the possibility of Robert finding out about Jon. Their voices hushed, only the quiet flame in the fireplace bore witness to the secrets being discussed.

They would never allow the secret of Jon's parents to become public knowledge. (y/n) entrusted Jon's life to them and they would not disappoint her. They would defend the boy with their life and take his secret to the afterlife.

[fawnnbinary]

i need to know more about your oc axel, please n thank you!!!!!!

!!!AXEL MENTION!!!

So Axel actually isn't my oc, he's my boyfriend's!! (@goodgoblinguy) I'm so glad you asked about him though Red, here are some Axel Facts:

He's gay and trans! Yippee!!

He's a neurosurgeon!

He has two husbands! (my ocs, Asher and Theo)

He's autistic!

He only has one leg!

He's descended from fae and can shapeshift! (he had a lizard form named Brandon and a cat form named Bunny)

He collects bugs and has some as pets!

He grew up on a farm in Georgia!

via bumblebee himself: "Ough he's a lizard boy. He's helping Asher find lizards under rocks. Showing Asher the best salamander creeks"

here's his tag on my blog if u wanna see drawings and posts abt him: x

[istumpysk]

to bad lady stoneheart will crown arya in robb’s crown leading her to be queen of the north at least sansa can enjoy her life with her two timing husband in the vale 😌

Top 10 Funniest Ship Girl Foreshadowing

10. Gendry's very important question.

He looked dubious. "Did you ever sail a boat?" "You put up the sail," she said, "and the wind pushes it." "What if the wind is blowing the wrong way?" "Then there's oars to row." - Arya II, ASOS

9. Excellent names!

I mean to use your second son as well. He will take Lady Marya across the narrow sea, to Braavos and the other Free Cities, to deliver other letters to the men who rule there. - Davos I, ACOK

x

"Just so. Your father was oarmaster on a galley. When your mother died, he took you off to sea with him. Then he died as well, and his captain had no use for you, so he put you off the ship in Braavos. And what was the name of the ship?" "Nymeria," she said at once. - Arya II, AFFC

8. Hey, what's with this Stark they keep telling us about.

That's a Brandon, the tall one with the dreamy face, he was Brandon the Shipwright, because he loved the sea. His tomb is empty. He tried to sail west across the Sunset Sea and was never seen again. - Bran VII, AGOT

x

It was Bran's turn to tell a story, so he told them about another Brandon Stark, the one called Brandon the Shipwright, who had sailed off beyond the Sunset Sea. - Bran III, ASOS

7. Arya spells it out.

Only Braavosi were permitted use of the Purple Harbor, from the Drowned Town and the Sealord's Palace; ships from her sister cities and the rest of the wide world had to use the Ragman's Harbor, a poorer, rougher, dirtier port than the Purple. It was noisier as well, as sailors and traders from half a hundred lands crowded its wharves and alleys, mingling with those who served and preyed on them. Cat liked it best of any place in Braavos. She liked the noise and the strange smells, and seeing what ships had come in on the evening tide and what ships had departed. She liked the sailors too; the boisterous Tyroshi with their booming voices and dyed whiskers; the fair-haired Lyseni, always trying to niggle down her prices; the squat, hairy sailors from the Port of Ibben, growling curses in low, raspy voices. Her favorites were the Summer Islanders, with their skins as smooth and dark as teak. They wore feathered cloaks of red and green and yellow, and the tall masts and white sails of their swan ships were magnificent. - Cat of the Canals, AFFC

6. Arya spells it out again.

Arya bit her lip. She had crossed the narrow sea to get here, but if the captain had asked she would have told him she wanted to stay aboard the Titan’s Daughter. Salty was too small to man an oar, she knew that now, but she could learn to splice ropes and reef the sails and steer a course across the great salt seas. Denyo had taken her up to the crow’s nest once, and she hadn’t been afraid at all, though the deck had seemed a tiny thing below her. I can do sums too, and keep a cabin neat. - Arya I, AFFC

5. Arya spells it out one more time. (Plus one more, because she's so generous!)

It made her think of the sea. Maybe that was the way out. Old Nan used to tell stories of boys who stowed away on trading galleys and sailed off into all kinds of adventures. Maybe Arya could do that too. - Arya V, AGOT

x

"It won’t be so bad, Sansa," Arya said. "We're going to sail on a galley. It will be an adventure - Sansa III, AGOT

4. Ned Stark makes a bizarre prediction about the future of one of his children.

"No," Ned said. He saw no use in lying to her. "Yet someday he may be the lord of a great holdfast and sit on the king's council. He might raise castles like Brandon the Builder, or sail a ship across the Sunset Sea, or enter your mother’s Faith and become the High Septon." - Eddard II, AGOT

3. An entire fandom forgets what made Nymeria famous.

He sang of Jonquil and Florian, of Prince Aemon the Dragonknight and his love for his brother's queen, of Nymeria's ten thousand ships. - Sansa VI, ACOK

x

He had not noticed that before, no more than he had noticed the picture on the tapestry, a scene of Nymeria and her ten thousand ships. - The Soiled Knight, AFFC

x

That is Nymeria's star, burning bright, and that milky band behind her, those are ten thousand ships. - The Queenmaker, AFFC

2. They could be like Nymeria, and sail beyond the Sunset Sea.

Lord Gylbert began to speak. He told of a wondrous land beyond the Sunset Sea, a land without winter or want, where death had no dominion. "Make me your king, and I shall lead you there," he cried. "We will build ten thousand ships as Nymeria once did and take sail with all our people to the land beyond the sunset. There every man shall be a king and every wife a queen." - The Drowned Man, AFFC

A marriage is arranged between Arya and Elmar. El mar. The sea.

"Also, if your sister Arya is returned to us safely, it is agreed that she will marry Lord Walder's youngest son, Elmar, when the two of them come of age." - Catelyn IX, AGOT

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Gay wrongs tournament, round 2 of the minor bracket

Propaganda:

For Phillip Morgan and Brandon Shaw:

They fucked around and found out. They killed their mutual friend and then held a dinner party with the rest of their friendgroup over his corpse. Everyone should watch rope 1948 If not for the horrible vibes, then at least these two horrible gays.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fGYcU7pLi2o

Phillip is an alcoholic and an absolute wet cat of a man and Brandon is a pretentious asshole with a god complex. They're a disaster gay couple from the 1940s who hosted a dinner party over the corpse of a friend they killed, and invited his whole family to the party. They planned to go on a vacation together after they'd finished doing their murder. They're in love, they're divorced, they're married, they hate each other and most importantly they killed a man by strangling him while staring homoerotically into each other's eyes. 

For Mick Rory and Leonard Snart:

The only supervillains on that show that understood the assignment. Thieves with a flare and loyal only to eachother. Eventually become anti heroes on legends of tomorrow but I liked them best as villains. The best part of both shows. Over the top and committed to the theme for the vibes. Puns and crime.

Fire and ice pairing! 

[kifkay]

Platonic! Tecna x Timmy headcanons

Tecna and Timmy do try at a relationship, but quickly figure out that being friends is better for them.

Tecna comes out as aromantic shortly after.

They refer to each other as “Twins” for shits and giggles.

They play video games together a lot. Surprisingly, Timmy is the more laid-back, "shoot shit and explore" type of player, while Tecna is a known rage-quitter and can be really intense when playing. They mostly play over the phone.

They go into Magix for a “maintenance day” which is just a self-care day they repackaged into a different label.

They have similar roles within their respective groups -- the strategists, the logical thinkers, the calm ones -- and they often commiserate on that together.

Tecna oftentimes feels guilty for not being able to support Timmy "as well" as he does, or offer Timmy the "correct solutions" to his problems, given that she is generally ill-equipped with anything requiring EQ.

Still, their main problem is communication. At their core, they are very similar: both are emotionally repressed and extremely private, if for different reasons. It's hard for Tecna and Timmy to have frank, emotional conversations with each other that go beyond venting -- but it's something they work on after rescuing Tecna from Omega.

Timmy finally confides in Tecna about his parents and his self-worth issues, while Tecna tells hims of her future – her duty to Zenith, – and that she doesn’t truly want to fulfill it.

Tecna and Timmy are virtually raising a cat together. His name is Byte and they hope to name each kitten in the future litter “Bitt” with an appropriate number (like “0001” for the first kitten, “0010” for the second, etc), once the cat has kids.

Tecna and Brandon are probably the only ones who met Timmy’s grandfather personally, before he passed.