#cannot elaborate further at this time

[madaqueue]

when you get fussy, satoru peppers your face in kisses and holds you so tight until you calm down but. suguru just lets you whine and cry and slam your fists into his chest in frustration with the biggest smile on his face

[p-3-pper]

I won't replay that fumi scene, I won't replay that fumi scene, I won't replay that fumi scene, I wo-

*replays it over and over again*

[partiallypearl]

juno by sabrina carpenter is so weekends by big time rush coded

[goldenguillotines]

half of my trolls are not showing up because cmon. Look at them and the other half will be because they've gotta

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

HI MAC. FINISHED SEASON ONE OF HANNIBAL. THOUGHTS: AHGHSGHFAHSGDKDFHKJGHKJGD OHGHGGG WILL GRAHAM THERE IS SOMETHING SO WRONG WITH YOU. i am holding him by the scruff of the neck and looking directly into his sad autistic eyes. i love this little guy. he needs severe medical and psychological help. i love him more than anything. dr lecter is so fucking interesting i need to grab him by the neck and strangle him he is such an awful person but such a cool character agh ough agh. he says he's will's friend but then he manipulates him and does all these horrible things and i just!! wanna know why!!!!! if he is your friend why are you hurting him!!!!! or is he actually your friend at all?? do you see him more as something to play with???? someone who thinks in such an interesting way that you wanted to know what lengths you could push him to???? I DON'T KNOW!!!! I WANT TO KNOW SO BADLY!!!!! pls tell me will doesn't die i am so attached to him i am putting him in my pocket and feeding him jellybeans <3 i am going to watch season 2 once my cold is gone because when i feel bad physically i feel bad MENTALLY so i am Not in a good like. headspace?? to watch it rn what with the death and blurring of reality and such but MAN. MANNNNN oh it is so cool i am kicking my feet and giggling i am so excited to watch the rest oghhh it is so fucked up <3 i love fucked up weird murder stories 10/10 amazing show no notes thank u for recommending it 2 me i love it v much :3

NORMAL HANNIBAL EXPERIENCE. OH MY GODDDD im so glad u sre enjoying it so farrrrr <3 its like. beloved piece of media to me but also it fucks me up in the brain. its a good horror reset for me . occasionally im just like. i need to feel weird about blood and gore and death and then i will watch a couple epispdes of hannibal and just sit there like

TAKE YOUR TIME. OF COURSE. dw dw i was the same way watching it for the first time because it gets SO weird and existential sometimes and. tbh the artistic gore kind of got to me in ways i did not expect ??? it can be so overwhelming sometimes and my exact feelings on it are very hard to articulate and i could sit here for hours discussing it and not actually ever get to a point . SO I GET U. it's just the kinda show you gotta take ur time with. and thats totally cool :) I CAN TELL YOU WITH. MINIMAL SPOILERS. will graham doesnt die . absolute mess of a man. u know that post thats like "what a beautiful man . i would love yo see him in a fit of despair" thatd me about will graham. and also covered in blood. and let me tell u this show fucking DELIVERS.

[lovinglin]

Lore... LORE MOMENT OH MY GOSH... Oh they saved each other... that's why...

[soloh]

Do you ever find yourself deep in thought about something and overthinking when you're at least a little bit drunk, and then you catch yourself and are like "nah I'm only feeling/thinking this because I'm drunk, it'll be fine when I'm sober" and then the next day you're sober and very much still thinking the same??

Because that's what my new years eve and new years day has been and oh boy howdy

[symbiomancy]

scientific curiosity —frankenstein's monster

—summary: You created him. You patched him together from pieces of humans and beasts - lost your license to practice medicine and your PhD for that. He should not look at you and lust. But he does. | 1.8k | AO3 | monster masterlist

—warnings: monster x human, monsterfucking, handjob, implied mating cycle/heat, thigh fucking, rutting.

The creature has an affinity for music. That fact is not even near the most fascinating thing you’ve discovered about him, but it is a very pleasant one. He taps the keys of the piano with grace, despite his size. Mozart today, huh?

“Your motor skills are improving at an incredible rate,” you say more to yourself as you scribble furiously into your notebook. The creature voices a grunt of approval as he stares at the sheet music propped up in front of him. Mentally, you pat yourself on the back for selecting such a fine brain.

You cannot deny his improvement at everything, really. He’d graduated from picture books to children’s books within two days, to classical novels and medical books within a week. Getting him acclimated to his size had been a challenge at first but it has been leaps and bounds from those days. Writing, string instruments, key instruments, all of it, a truly incredible progress. There’s only a handful of things you’ve yet to ask.

“Any sexual desire?”

His fingers stumble on the keys.

You whip around, one arm slung over the back of the chair and push so the legs screech loudly against the wooden floor. There’s a grin on your face, pen in a death grip in your hand. “Care to elaborate?” You blindly reach for the notebook still on the table, eyes fixed on his large frame, at the way he hunches over, staring firmly at the sheet music.

“No.”

“Well, it is fall,” you muse, raise your elbow to lean it against the chair backrest, pen tapping against your bottom lip. “And I did have to supplement some parts for beast parts.”

“Hadn’t even noticed.” He thumps a foot against the ground. Griffin’s hind legs. Could’ve used the wings but taking too much from one body would’ve created too much suspicion.

“I really thought a vampire’s hand would, y’know react to warm blood — a mistake on my part, I’ll admit it. But,” your grin widens even further, “fascinating how a werewolf’s knot is still a knot even if you cut it off. Does the full moon affect it in any way?”

Your creation glares at you from across the room.

“What? Scientific curiosity.”

“You had your PhD and medical license revoked for…” he takes a deep breath and takes his hands from the piano keys to motion to himself, “me.” There’s a hint of something in his tone, something that borders on disgust. You file that away to discuss at a later time. “It’s why we’re out here. Hiding.”

“There are worse reasons to lose a doctorate for. And I was a scientist while creating you. So, scientist. Now, answer my question, please?”

The creature gently pulls down the key lid on the piano, stands, and wordlessly leaves the room.

He doesn’t come down for dinner.

You stare at the vacant seat on the other side of the dinner table with a frown. His plating is untouched, steam rising from the potato stew where he usually sits. There is no creaking in the house, nothing to signal he’s coming down. You eat alone and place his meal into the still-warm oven.

His door is closed. You stand there for a while, mulling over your words, trying to string together an apology. Should you wax something long together? An explanation? Run-on sentences to try to justify your innate curiosity at your creation’s physiological state? Nothing sounds right. Nothing sounds like enough.

“I’m sorry… for asking like that. I got carried away. It wasn’t proper of me. There’s um,” you clear your throat, “I left your plate in the oven. Heat it up if you get hungry. Good night.”

You stand at the door for another prolonged moment, trying to catch any sound on the other side of the door. It’s faint, barely there, but you can make out his breathing, slow and steady. At least he’s still here. But you decide not to test your luck any further tonight and retreat to your own room, leaving the door slightly ajar. It doesn’t fit into the frame quite correctly, anyway.

Maybe he’ll at least go downstairs for dinner later.

He stands in front of your door, staring at the small sliver of moonlight that pours into the dark hallway. There are too many loud thoughts in his head, racing and colliding. His skin feels ill-fitting, a heat simmering underneath it. You ask too many questions, he thinks — has thought since he left you in the study alone to hide away in his room with the blinds drawn and his cock in hand — too many questions that prod all the right places.

It’s in your nature. You were a scientist. And a doctor with an intricate web of knowledge about the human (and creature) body. He shouldn’t fault you for asking.

While you were downstairs eating dinner alone, he had his cock in hand — not a wholly new experience but a new-ish one — stroking it over the low bathroom sink. He’d tried, tried thinking of other things but nearly all of his experiences are tied to you and your presence. So he keeps coming back to you. Your pretty face, your smile, the light in your eyes when you ask him about his body, his psyche to scribble into your umpteenth notebook all about him.

Even now with his pants undone, cock hanging out, already (or still) hard, he thinks of you. He stares at you through the crack in the door, soundly asleep in your bed. The covers are tucked tightly over your body but legs exposed to the fall chill. It’s not right, he thinks, he should at least tuck you in before you get a cold.

He pushes the door open slowly. It creaks a short, aborted squeak and you shift in bed, pull the blanket tighter against yourself. The creature steps forward, carefully placed footfalls dancing around the one creaking floorboard right at the entrance, long slow strides taking him to the foot of your bed. You shuffle again, and for a moment he thinks this is it, you’re awake, but you turn onto your back, kick at the blanket with one foot.

You are… enticing like this, he finds. He thinks that’s what this feeling is. All he has to compare it to is the novels he’s read over and over and over again.

He grabs onto your ankles with his warm hand, touch featherlight, and gently, slowly, pulls you forward. The end of your nightgown catches against the sheets, drags further up the closer you get to him. He has the anatomical knowledge of the human body — he’s read every book in the house several times over no matter if fiction or an anatomy book, he’s effectively memorized all the illustrations, if not the texts themselves.

His fingers trace the expanse of your skin, gently knead into the flesh. He can name the muscles and the tendons, the nerves at the crook of your knee. He’s spent countless hours staring at the illustrations, even the more… explicit ones. He’s curious — you’ve rubbed off on him — but it’s dark. Instead, he stares at the gap between your thighs. It’s inviting, just perfect for him to slip his cock through. It jerks at the thought, precum dribbling from the tip.

You blink slowly. The room is dark, save for the moonlight filtering in through the window above your head. In front of you, right at the foot of the bed stands a tall figure, hand wrapped around your ankles, resting against his shoulder. Your brain jogs the existence of your creation before you startle involuntarily. He startles too, nearly dropping his grip on your ankles.

“Everything alright?” You ask. The fall chill bites at your thighs and oh.

“I’m sorry,” he says, pressing his body against the back of your legs. Something hot and heavy, wet presses between your thighs. The tip of his cock presses between your thighs, forward and backward. Slowly, like he’s testing the waters. You stare at it for a moment, then press your thighs together.

The creature groans and thrusts forward, hips assuming a sloppy pace. He’s tall and wide and big and that’s how you built him. The bed rocks with his thrusts, the headboard banging against the wall, scraping at the paint. His cock plunges between your things, smears precum onto your skin, slick and wet and loud. The sound of his cock plunging between your slick thighs is nearly deafening in the silent house. Your own arousal curls under your skin but you file it away to stare at him.

This… this is not what you had in mind when you first came up with this (quite possibly very stupid, very illegal, medically and scientifically (not to mention ethically) dubious) idea. It cost you your license and your reputation, sent you into exile. You don’t regret it on the worst of days but especially not right now.

His cold hand wraps nearly wholly around your thigh and you clench around his cock involuntarily. Your muscles jerk from the sudden chill. He groans and his hips stutter for a moment, stumble in their sloppy rhythm before he regains whatever shred of his composure is left and continues thrusting. The bulb at the bottom of his shaft is engorged, knocking against your clit with every thrust. You can’t even focus on that, just on the beads of precum dribbling from the tip of his cock, smearing against your thighs as he pulls nearly all the way back. When he thrusts towards you, pearly droplets fly, splatter against your wrinkled nightgown.

He pulls you into him, hips slamming against your thighs. The metal bed frame screeches at something, you can’t even react as he thrusts forward one last time. He cums with a guttural growl that reverberates in your own chest, thighs pressing against yours, hips jerking forward. Ropes of hot cum shoot from his cock, land on your torso. You reach out, wrap a hand around the enormous cock to jerk him off, prolong his orgasm, milk him for everything he has to offer. There’s a hiss from the back of his throat as you work him empty, splattering onto your stomach and chest, even your chin. It’s warm and sticky and it sinks into your cotton nightgown, clings to your skin.

His breathing is erratic once his large frame stops shaking. His chest expands and constricts against your legs, nails digging small crescents into your ankles. Your toes are cold from the forced position.

You reach down to the puddle of cum pooling on your stomach and draw a heart into it with a small giggle.

The creature looks up from his mess tentatively, brow furrowed and lips jutted into a hopeful smile.

“You’re not mad?”

“I’ll have you know I picked out every part of you according to my personal preferences.”

banners/dividers by @/cafekitsune

[togament]

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬. sakura, ume, kaji, suo, kiryu, togame.

"ever caught yourself fantasizing how they'd be as your lover? ever wanted to smooch them so badly you just wanna-- look no further, sweetie."

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: general FLUFF NATION BABIIIEEEE, a bit of language but only if you squint a little, I made it as gender neutral as possible but pls lmk if I made some mistakes!, our men are lovesick and absolutely down bad BAD, quick mention of bumping uglies, kaji the crowdkiller, brainworm infestation things, bibi went to yap town with togame's.

𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐚.

- big on acts of service BUT IS HORRIBLE AT HIDING HOW MUCH HE LIKES DOING STUFF FOR YOU. hear me out. he’d be the one opening doors for you, covering your head with his jacket when it’s raining outside (he’s getting soaked and you nag him about getting sick)…. all that. He’s blushing profusely. When you smile up at him, he immediately smiles back but then he claps a hand over his mouth to hide it. Give him time ok he’ll come around.

- he loves you. of course that’s a given because you’re his lover BUT BUT. he love LOVES you. like a lot. so much that it’s kind of painful, you know what I mean? Like he wants to express it so friggin bad, but he doesn’t know how to. His words escape him, he panics when he makes a move. He’s spent many a night just staring down at you with the most lovestruck eyes while you’re fast asleep. Tears falling from his eyes because he’s so happy you chose HIM of all people. He never thought he’d be worthy of being loved, of being trusted, of being CONSIDERED. You gave all of that to him and more. GOD he loves you.

- is super conflicted about PDA lol sometimes he wants to hold your hand in public, kiss you all over, hug you, but god damn it he’s blushing from head to toe whenever he’s around you. He’s got the cuteness aggression fever but he can’t let it ouuuttttt 🗣️🗣️🗣️

𝐮𝐦𝐞.

- EVERYTHING IS HIS LOVE LANGUAGE. Like, if you’re not into physical touch, he’d do something else for you. If you’re not the acts of service type and you wanna do stuff yourself, that’s cool too!!! He can manage!!!! Although he’d want to help you out so bad but…. He’s cheering on you from the sidelines. On that note, he’s your biggest (and loudest) cheerleader! You’d have an achievement and no matter how small or big it is, his friends and neighbors and the random strangers he passes by know about it and how amazing you are. BECAUSE YOU ARE.

- loves it when you help him out in the garden hehehe loves it extra if you know how to take care of the veggies and fruits hehehehe like, you’d be tending to the potted plants and he’s checking for aphids on the other side of the garden. You’re actively pruning the basil the right way so it’d grow bushier, you’re hand pollinating the pumpkins, you even suggested on doing the three sisters method so you’d yield more harvest in the coming months. He may or may not have begged you to marry him once or fifty times every time he’s caught you doing that. (Ofc you’ve said yes once or fifty times lol)

- WORST CUTENESS AGGRESSION FEVER SUFFERER. You cannot convince me otherwise. You’d be doing the most mundane things, walking down the road with him, lounging on the couch with your belly out and body contorted in the most unattractive position, just STANDING THERE….. he’s immediately on you, peppering kisses everywhere his lips can reach, hugging you so close, rubbing his face all over youdbjfjdndnnd CUTENESS AGGRESSION IS UMEMIYA AND UMEMIYA IS CUTENESS AGGRESSION. If he could he’d bite you. He has btw. On multiple occasions. The tiniest, softest chomp though.

- never fails to tell you how much he loves you. On the daily, on the fly, every time he meets your eyes. “I love you” so easily slips from his lips, he expresses it so easily but it never loses its meaning with him. He means it every time he utters those three words. You can feel it too. Just… don’t ask him to elaborate because he’d drop anything he’s doing just to explain to you as to how and why and what and where and—uh oh is he crying?????

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓.

𝐤𝐚𝐣𝐢.

- WOULD MAKE PLAYLISTS FOR YOU. Hear me out again. He’s horrible with words ok? Like he’s thorny. He’d say the meanest things accidentally sometimes without him realizing that. So, he makes playlists for you. He’s made one for himself when he first realized he had a crush on you, btw. Don’t tell him I told you. Notice how he’s had his headphones on his head whenever you first started talking to him? Yeah he was listening to it when he saw you passing by. Best music taste btw. Listens to all genres too like he doesn’t discriminate. Get him started on some hardcore bands though, he’s yapping. Eyebrows furrowed. (He likes rowdy places but doesn’t get rowdy? Canonically too? Yeah the man’s outside the pit pushing the crowdkillers away from you. CATCH HIM IN THE PIT THOUGH OH MY GOD THAT’S A CROWDKILLER RIGHT THERE.) on that note, he loves going to gigs with you. You wanna go check a local band? He’s immediately got ticket stubs for their next gig.

- another acts of service guy. You see those tiktoks of girls grabbing something under the table and the guy holding the corner of the table so she wouldn’t accidentally hit it? Or like when you got full hands and you can’t go to open the door, the guy’s materialized beside you, opening it for you? Yeah that’s him. Real subtle about it though. Don’t bring attention to it pls unless you want him to not look at you for a couple of minutes (he’s blushing pls be patient)

- the type to nag at you when you get hurt. Man oh MAN does he nag. He’s gone through one too many fights already so he knows how to patch himself up real nice. But when YOU get hurt, he’s immediately digging through his first aid kit, cleaning your wound and patching you up while nagging you to be more careful next time, what if he wasn’t around to help, what if this what if that grumble grumble. He’s got his lollipop in his mouth btw. Pull it out for a second and GIVE HIM THE BIGGEST SMOOCH TO SHUT HIM UP PLEASE. Sweetest kisses. Both literally and figuratively 🥹

𝐬𝐮𝐨.

- GENTLEMAN GENTLEMAN GENTLEMAN. Oh my god if you don’t want attention drawn to the both of you, never bring Suo out in public!!!!!!!! He does the most for you so effortlessly, so beautifully, people swoon and get jealous because of it. The type to give you flowers too. Not just on special occasions too. And not just flowers in a bouquet. No. The flowers are already arranged in a vase so you wouldn’t have to worry about grabbing a vase yourself. Goodness your normal dates would seem so extravagant when he’s around. You’d be eating at a McDonald’s and you’re looking over at your lover and he looks so dashing and he smells so good and he’s got the softest smile anfjdjjdj UGHHHHHH!!!!!! But if you’re not into flowers, he’d find some other way to express his love for you in a different way. Whatever you’re comfortable with, he’s down for.

- big tease. He likes seeing you squirm and pout when he’s playing a little prank on you. You swear you can see a slight blush on his cheeks when you pout but it’s so so subtle you think it’s the lighting.

- is not afraid to express how much he absolutely LOVES you. If you need reassurance, he’s pulling you to the side to talk about it. If you need him to kiss you more, oh he’s doing THAT AND MORE. If you’re the jealous type, even better. He’s smooching you in front of the person you think is flirting with him. But if you’re not into that intense stuff, he’s pulling you into the conversation, keeping a hand on your waist and looking over to you for an extra opinion. Lays on the “dove”, “my love”, “my sweet”, “my heart”, T H I C K . And I fucking mean THICK.

𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐮.

- *dreamy sigh* a fucking dreamboat is what he is. You could never, EVER go wrong with kiryu, man. I swear. A gentleman through and through. Takes you on spontaneous dates, likes going to arcades with you and winning you the biggest plushie!!!! (he’s really good at it), would take you on perfume dates (HE SMELLS GOOD CANONICALLY UGH), would even do your make up for you. Ugh. UGH. He’d be the best partner you could ever ask for. Y’know those perfect couples on tiktok? That’s you and him. But it’s all genuine, baby. That’s just how he loves.

- big on matching outfits. But not the blatant matching ones, no. Like, same color palettes, same textures, YES. YES. The outfit brainstorming is part of your dates too. He’d let you borrow his clothes if you want, he’d even let you spritz some of his most expensive perfumes 😭!!!!

- SKINCARE DATES TOO. WOAH WOAH WOAH. like, he has a AM/PM routine but he'd love to do it with you! he'd suggest all the best stuff for your skin, check if your skin's more on the dry side, oily side, yes. your man knows his shit and it SHOWS. your skin's practically glowing when you're with him. boyfriend air doesn't exist.

- IF YOU NEED REASSURANCE AND A HYPEMAN HE IS YOUR FUCKING GUY I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. God he’d see you looking at yourself in the mirror, fussing over how you look and practically putting yourself down, his heart would break. Like, how could you not see how he sees you? He’s taking you in his arms and telling you everything he absolutely adores about you, how beautiful you are, showering you with praise on the sweetest most kiryu way possible. He’s peppering kisses along your tear streaked cheeks until you’re smiling again. “There’s that smile,” he says as he pulls away, cupping your face in his hands. Ugh he even has the most lovesick puppydog eyes for you. “I love you, alright? So much,” he kisses your forehead, “So, So much.” He whispers into your hairline. GOOOOODDDDDDD 🫂 and did I say HYPEMAN? I mean it. Do a little spin for him in your new clothes and he’s screaming and yelling and taking so much pictures of you!!!!! His instagram feed’s full of you, your couple photos, your dates… practically a fan account of your relationship. He loves you and he loves loving you!!!!!!!!! and if you're the jealous type, he'd be so patient with you. he'd reassure you to the moon and back!!! ofc since he's popular with girls, he'd do his best to reassure you that he only has his eyes on you and you alone.

- gaming nights with kiryu. Oh Gaming Nights With Kiryu please save me gaming nights with kiryu. He’s got a whole set up ready for the both of you, his PS5 hot and ready, snacks opened. It’s a special thing for the both of you too! He decorates his apartment in the theme of the game you’re both playing, horror game? His apartment looks like a horror house. Smash bros? BET. (He’ll be smashing you by the end of the night gehrhhrhehehehHgdhdhs). I know he’s got LED strips so he’s using that to his advantage too. Ok I’m getting carried away. Kiryu best partner best lover best everything.

𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞.

- *RIPS SHIRT OPEN LIKE A WEREWOLF GRGEGGRHEHE BARKING!!!!!* TOGAMEEEEE!!!!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️ I am apologizing for this part, love. I’m gonna go hard.

- canonically doesn’t text. Only leaves you on read. Calling him though? CALLING HIM?? 🫠 he’s answering as soon as it rings. None of that “wait until the third ring” baloney. His baby’s calling. If he’s doing something before you called, HE’S DROPPING IT FOR YOU. And he answers in that deep voice of his and 🫠🫠🫠 sigh. You guys stay on the phone for hours. He’s the type to do things while he’s calling you too. If you’re away and he can’t be with you, he’d love it if you could stay on the phone with him for way longer too. Big on facetiming too. He’s fallen asleep with facetime on. You have a collection of screenshots of his pretty sleeping face. You’ve fallen asleep on facetime too. He doesn’t have as much screenshots though and he haaaates himself for it because he spends so much time just staring at you through his phone, smiling to himself like. FUCK he’s so in love with you!!!!! YOU!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️ plus he’s got nervous shaky hands so hehe first time you guys facetimed you weren’t a couple yet. You fell asleep and he tried taking a screenshot and dropped his phone. The sound woke you up lol you give him shit about that moment sometimes, teasing him. He’s a blushing mess, elbowing you gently so you’d stop.

- AWKWARD TOGAME WHEN YOU GUYS FIRST DATED UGH SHIIIITTTTT!!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️ he’s canonically bad with groups of people and people in general. Choji had to adopt him forcefully into shishitoren ok? So that translates so SO well to you and your relationship with him. He may or may not have (allegedly, for legal reasons) asked for romance advice from Choji. He may or may not have (again, allegedly) tried that yawning and stretching trick so he could rest his arm behind you. No. Nope. Didn’t hear it from me.

- awkward and SHY togame when he made the first move on you!!!!!!! He had a ramune bottle in his hand because it was shaking so bad he couldn’t control it. You GAVE HIM HIS FIRST KISS DHHRHDHRRRRAAAAGHHH 🗣️🗣️🐺 you had to hold his other hand to stop it from trembling. Yours were too tbh hehe made him feel a bit better because you were just as nervous as he is.

- once you both are super into the relationship though, my goodness expect togame to be THE BEST PARTNER. See how he was with Choji? Did anything and everything to keep his smile? He’d do that for you too. Amp it up to a 100. His surprises are simple, never was one for grand gestures. But goodness you can feel the effort. Even employed some help from his old man pals at the community baths 🫠

- speaking of the old men, THEY WERE THE FIRST PEOPLE TO KNOW ABOUT HIS CRUSH ON YOU!!!!! Like, they were doting on togame when he expressed he’s never felt this way for someone before, how he can feel his heart racing and his face heating up when you’re around. They knew he was in love with you before he knew for himself.

- OF COURSE THEY KNEW YOUUU. So when you wanted to get into a relationship with togame, knowing it’s serious now, you went out of your way to meet up with the group of old men!!!! There, you discovered that togame has been talking about you nonstop. They already loved you for him before you formally met!!!!! They gave you their collective blessing, of course. You both are their grandchildren in their eyes.

- togame CAN COOK. EXPECT HIM TO COOK FOR YOU CONSTANTLY. And if you can cook, EVEN BETTER. Cooking dates, farmer’s market dates, izakaya dates, GASTRONOMY! You often surprise each other with decorated lunch boxes.

- nap dates all the time. Like, when you’re not bumping uglies or cooking or bonding with your friends, you both are asleep in each other’s arms. He gives the best hugs too. Like, those hugs that just cover you, you know?

- obviously, he loves you. But god damn it he wants to scream it into the world!!!! With the way he treats you though, constantly worrying about you, being there at your beck and call, pressing kisses into the crown of your head whenever you’re next to each other, he doesn’t need to scream it or utter a single word. You can just see the love he has for you. Everyone knows it.

- has thought about marrying you a couple times already. The type to call you his spouse teasingly too just to see you blush. He cannot wait to call you that officially. If he were good at technology, he would definitely have a pinterest board ready lol

a/n: wehehehehajsdkj hehehe togame. i missed writing for him, guys. THANK YOU FOR READING THROUGH TO THE END. some of the togame headcanons were from my convo with @yisxn!!! the ramune bottle detail was so perfect I couldn't skip it! also the asking for advice from the old men. YOU HAVE A BEAUTIFUL MIND ILYSM. thank you to @brainrot-of-a-thot for helping me clear up my brainfog last nightttt. also to you, reader, ILY. thank you for reading my word vomit!!!!!!!!!

[corviiids]

as part of my pitch re: this post please see below my original concept donut steal for an "if phoenix wright had to catch kira death note" au. best regards

more about this, probably:

this is probably the last case of the game where it transpires that all the other apparent murders in the game have been somehow set up as part of kira's master plan (kira has found creative ways to get around the fact that you can't use the death note to force one person to kill another person and also around rule 10 of the death note that a written death cannot cause other deaths. if you have further queries regarding this matter please do not hesitate to contact me via email best regards)

framing L involves setting up an elaborate murder scene with preset evidence where L is in precisely the wrong spot at the wrong time. L of course anticipated this

the detective character is soichiro, but the real detective character for most of the game is his son light who is a very helpful young man and in fact is the one making most of the contributions

L is ostensibly a detective character too but he mostly just shows up, licks some evidence, blinks at you, and fades out. until he gets arrested

the prosecutor is still miles edgeworth. consider the following:

edgeworth: we have security footage of the defendant holding the murder weapon, at the time of the murder, standing directly in front of the victim, using the weapon on the victim, and then the victim dies

phoenix: okay... but... what if there was a magic notebook

[gazemaizeisdead]

there’s a scene in fat albert 2004 where live action kenan thompson fat albert, who has accidentally escaped the fictional television world of his cartoon series and become real à la barbie, meets his creator, bill cosby.

it’s a unique film. i’ve seen it about thirty times. the opening credits are in comic sans.

it’s the worst film in the tiny but horrible microgenre of films in which an established, questionably marketable character with diminished cultural relevance is mysteriously transported to our reality. rocky and bullwinkle, harold and the purple crayon, garfield, enchanted (it’s disney, which at the time was only beginning to toy with the cloyingly affectionate self-awareness that has since swallowed it whole, so an expy blend of all stock princesses is used in the place of any particular ip). if you loosen up the parameters of that definition a smidge you can easily come up with another fifty or so awful, bizarre live-action adaptations of various properties with similar narrative structures and plot beats, but i’m curious about this very specific type of hyper-meta fish out of water isekai movie, stories that are less interested in the characters they are ostensibly about and more about the modern world’s current reactions to those characters, and choose to discuss that in the most convoluted, literal way possible.

this type of story is simultaneously extremely high-concept postmodernist analysis and the laziest paint by the numbers shit it’s possible to create. live-action adaptations even at their best betray an inherent disrespect for animation, implying it to be a secondary medium that exists as a temporary placeholder or poor man’s substitute for reality, that characters are only worth caring about if they look as real as we do or exist in a world like ours. there’s no genuine artistic reason to make a woody woodpecker movie, an avatar movie, a death note movie, a live-action pinocchio, they’re all cynical soulless cashgrabs but they at least do attempt to adapt and actually BE what they purport to be. dan aykroyd yogi bear and light turner and matthew lillard william afton for the five minutes they wanted to pay him to be in the fnaf movie are simply poor facsimiles of themselves and they suck because of that bad mimicry, we see and hear the contrast and know immediately it’s not the same. the project of live-actionization is misguided because even before awful executive-driven creative decisions (which all these movies have in spades) very often whatever is being adapted simply can’t be translated properly to its new medium. you could give a film a 500m budget and airbending will still not look as good as it does in 2d, where one can easily and stylistically show the movement of invisible wind and have a character float and defy gravity in a way that is instantly believable in a way that a real human being moved by CGI is not. neil patrick harris and hank azaria as hard as they try, as talented as they are cannot legitimately sell me on the idea that they’re actually being hardcore smurfed in the way that an animated gargamel can. these movies reach for a perceived authenticity and fail to reach it, not understanding that the mediums they are stealing from almost always allow for a greater seeming realness than live-action can, especially when portraying the fantastical.

the isekai movies go one step beyond this disrespect because they refuse to even play the part. yes we’ll make a rocky and bullwinkle movie but we cannot simply DO rocky and bullwinkle, we can’t do a scooby doo and just make a bigger irl version of the formula, we must have this elaborate meta routine so we can continually point to the audience and share a laugh together about how dogshit and unimportant rocky and bullwinkle are. the people who make these movies are so embarrassed by the concept of taking these ideas seriously that they must even in-universe create further removal from the realness of this to insulate us from the possibility of caring. rocky and bullwinkle must be a fake tv show even in the movie, even in pretend land they must be from a deeper pretend land. it’s fine if you want to do commentary on the property (preferable, in fact, that makes it more interesting!) but this commentary is almost never allowed to extend beyond the singular joke of every gamer webcomic ever made: wouldn’t it be fucked up if fictional thing were REAL?

wouldn’t it be fucked up if rocky and bullwinkle were in a REAL car? you bet it fucking would be. (robert de niro produced this movie and plays the main villain)

obviously we’re in a post-barbenheimer world and the only movie of this kind worth comparing fat albert to is barbie, which is notable for being the only good execution of this premise (i would call enchanted competent; it’s funny but a mess). the barbie comparison is especially interesting because fat albert is a cracked mirror to barbie.

like barbie, fat albert and the cosby kids exist in a cartoon world where characters are simultaneously performers and platonic forms of themselves, and where they operate with an unspecified degree of awareness of their own fakeness; a background character in fat albert’s philadelphia mentions having done guest spots on the jetsons. like barbie, al is snapped out of his usual routine by the personal crisis of one of his fans, when her single live-action tear falls on the remote as she watches his show and magically falls into his fictionalized philadelphia. the magic tear allows him to hear her crying and a portal is rended between the two worlds; he enters reality, naively tries to solve her social and emotional problems with platitudes, and is forced to grapple with the tenuous nature of his existence and mortality and the complexity of the real world. 

i’m just ken is replaced with fat albert performing an extended rap cover of his own theme song. fat albert spends as much of this movie trying to help the main character make friends as he does trying to fuck her adoptive older sister (“my big al”, she calls him).

without getting into “barbie politics” barbie works because it wants to be a movie about barbie, the thing it’s named after. it takes “barbie lore” seriously. at least half of barbie actually takes place in barbieland, a world that the movie cares about making authentically fake and different and weird. the mechanics and nature of barbie’s existence and barbieland are the most important part of the movie. all of these bad adaptations have the obligatory familial infighting/accidentally thwarting a jewel heist/stopping the evil CEO from demolishing the neighborhood to build a megamall/helping larry bird get his basketball talent back from the aliens plot and so does barbie but it’s an excuse to talk about more interesting abstractions. there is a subplot dedicated to barbie helping to reignite a mother and daughter’s bond but this isn’t the core of the movie, it really is about barbie, literally and metaphysically. fat albert too isn't "about" helping a girl make friends and find herself, it's about fat albert, but it resents that about itself.

fat albert 2004 has about six minutes of actual animation, it rushes to get kenan thompson on screen as quickly as possible and stays there as long as it can (presumably a factor of cost more than anything else, as with all of these films). in barbie the ideas and philosophies of barbieland and real life both naturally affect each other, are reflections of each other, which is an obvious worldbuilding choice that makes intuitive sense; the media we consume is a reflection of the real world and vice versa. there is nothing inherently wrong or bad about the link between the two worlds, says barbie, though it is often the conduit for harmful ideas.

fat albert’s philadelphia and our philadelphia do not share this connection, albert’s intrusion in the real world is a perversion of the natural order and, we later learn, a physical impossibility in the long term. halfway through the movie, the cosby kids begin to be influenced by the real world: mushmouth gains the ability to speak coherently (“don’t call me mushmouth anymore! just call me… mouth!”) and dumb donald removes his ski cap, learns to read, and goes to the library and speeds through 22 volumes of african-american history. this is portrayed as profane; as dumb donald says before jumping back into the TV halfway through the movie: “"i've become smart enough to understand that... we've entered into a world where we do not belong. if you try to become something that you're not, you lose the essence of who you really are."

albert, still on his love quest, at first refuses to rejoin them; he goes off on a date with protagonist’s older sister, which goes well until a child recognizes him and shames him for not being in the tv where he belongs. “we need you! what would mr. cosby think if you don’t go back?” al’s stunned by this; he has no response, but it inspires him to seek answers. in the next scene he decides to find out. he walks up to bill cosby’s house and knocks on the door.

in barbie the discussion barbie has with her creator, ruth handler, is the emotional climax of the film. when barbie tells her she wants to stay in southern california, ruth warns her of the dangers of being human, but does not ultimately stop barbie from doing so; she points out that she is incapable of doing so even if she wanted to.

fat albert mirrors this discussion; albert is told of his conceptual origins. as barbie is based on ruth’s daughter, he is based on a deceased childhood friend of cosby’s, the grandfather of the girl he is trying to help (which is why the movie is careful to repeatedly stress the point that the older sister he’s fallen in love with is only his granddaughter by adoption). there isn’t a parallel moment to the one in barbie where handler winks to the audience about her criminal conviction but that’s probably in the film’s best interest.

albert pleads with cosby in the same way as barbie. more than anything, he wants to stay in the real world. cosby, like handler, encourages him to recognize his own power as an icon, but informs him that his fate is inescapable. if he stays in the real world, his colors will begin to fade and he will soon “turn into celluloid dust” and die. how cosby knows this is not explained; presumably little bill also visited him in the past and suffered a similar fate.

even when done cynically (as it always is) to adapt or remake anything to reject the source material in some way. it’s a paradoxical relationship, because to do it you have to both like (or at least be interested) in what you are recreating but find some aspect of it unnecessary or outdated or lacking or worthy of change. the animation to live-action adaptation often must navigate the additional paradox of wanting to make the unreal real, and the end result, formed by people who don’t care and are only in it for a paycheck, is usually bad art.

in the end fat albert acknowledges his own unreality and crawls back in the tv. the final scene is a saving private ryan style ending where all of the real life elderly inspirations for the cosby kids leave flowers on the real fat albert’s grave. here it hits you: the only moral of the live action fat albert movie is that a live action fat albert movie is a really shitty idea that would kill fat albert.

i agree.

[morbiderotica]

Hii! Can i pls request a Light x reader nsfw? You know the scenes where L planted a camera in his room right? Well maybe to make L less suspicious of him Light fucks the reader in his room? I thought that it was a hot idea♡ you dont have to do it if you dont want to😊

★ DECEPTION ─ fem!reader

#NOTES ─ i love you for requesting this i cannot tell you how many times i've day dreamed about this (sorry it took so long)

#WARNINGS ─ smut, cnc peeping toms (L), p in v,

#SUMMARY ─ "there was an elaborate plan set in place. but as soon as light's hands snaked around your waist you seemed to forget everything you were supposed to do and say." innocent until proven guilty

there was an elaborate plan set in place. but as soon as light's hands snaked around your waist you seemed to forget everything you were supposed to do and say. his moderately chapped lips kissing your cheek lovingly. much unlike how light usually behaved around you.

"light." his name left your lips, trying to warn him he'd made your mind go blank. but he knew.

"i know." he whispered back, displeasure laced in his voice. luckily, light was more than capable of carrying out the plan for the both of you.

"just let me do all the work." he muttered, his voice not loud enough to be picked up on by the mics on the camera but still he was careful with what he said.

he hoped you would be too. you nodded. looking up at light with a lustful look in your eye that he couldn't deny was making him a little aroused. light kissed your jaw, roughly. as if light was capable of doing anything without roughness.

"last chance to back out." it's not a soft tone, but it does let you know that he won't be mad at you if you do decide you don't want some random creep watching you have sex with your friend.

you shake your head, you weren't going to let him down now. and to be totally honest, the thought of someone watching you in such a vulnerable position was intriguing to say the least. light began to undress you once you'd given him your final consent.

meanwhile, L watched his screen with wider eyes than normal. his eyes grazing every pixel of the screen as he watched light take off your shirt. neglecting the other screens that were broadcasting equally, if not more, important information. L racked his brain trying to figure out if this was just a trick of if he was really witnessing this dirty scene play out.

all your clothes were off in what seemed like a blink of an eye. pressed into the mattress with light's knee inches away from your heated core. you dumbly pull at his tie, fucked out expression but light hadn't even gotten started with you yet.

"you got any thoughts in there at all?" he smirks. silently gloating now that he knew he had every single person he knew wrapped around his godly finger. there was not a thought behind your blown out pupils. it prided light to know he had such an effect on you.

"i haven't even done anything yet." he furthers. and L was hearing all of it.

you paw at the waist band of his bland khaki pants. light chuckled feeling your shaky hands trying to get more of him. his rubs his hand over your chest, caressing your nipple with his pointer and thumb.

"patient girls get rewarded." he tsks. he's met with a whine to which he chuckles again. he knows L will over analyze and find something wrong with the scenario if he doesn't hurry up.

"you wanna get rewarded?" he unbuttons his pants with one hand. you're eager, desperate. you need hm in a way you didn't even know it was possible to want one of your friend.

he reaches over you, grabbing a condom from the book shelf. it was wedged between two books. clearly he was trying to keep it hidden from his maid of a mom and his nosy sister.

he opens the condom with his teeth and you might as well just have hearts in your eyes as you watch him. the wrapper falls somewhere unimportant on the bed. he rolls the condom on. you knew it was only a matter of time before you finally felt full with his cock.

© 2023 MORBIDEROTICA

[fernsnailz]

oh i rewatched the sonic movies AND the knuckles show recently and with sonic 3 out this week i think it's time to share the wishlist i made of crazy things i want to see in the third movie. these are NOT genuine predictions and most would probably make the movie actively worse, but i want them to happen because. i think it would be funny. this list is curated to my specific tastes in trash and my tastes alone

tom dies

bowling is plot relevant

literally any archie sonic reference. can you imagine

musical number (CANNOT be of a licensed song. has to be an original)

eggstone kiss (HAS to be genuinely romantic. cannot be played as a joke)

metal sonic shows up and they kill him within five minutes

the black arms appear but instead of being cgi monsters they're played by actors in practical suits (this would actually rule)

tripod baby by m-flo 2024 remix

shadow's backstory is explained through an extremely tone-deaf medium at some point, such as a puppet show

wade gets a love interest

gerald gets more screentime than shadow (this is my one genuine prediction and something that i Do Not Want. but i will laugh if it happens)

shadow dies dramatically in sonic's arms

no girl cartoon animal character makes an appearance, but one gets a single name drop with no further elaboration (actually i don't want this. this would just make me mad lmfao)

if any of these come true i will draw wade whipple

[vinnyvamppp]

Dearie, I am obsessed with your writing! Can I request some gn superhero reader x sinister mark? Reader became a hero because what else are their powers good for (you can imagine whatever their powers are)? They were taught by society by obviously what’s right and wrong, about how they SHOULD act, but there’s always been something cruel and dangerous, glinting beneath the surface. Something that shivered with excitement at destruction, that made their hands quiver and ache to grip something (or someone) until it was destroyed. They know how to act the image of a just hero. Maybe they tried fooling themselves into this hero business, that if they could fool themselves long enough, that they’d believe this lie of a heroic persona they’ve made up. Mark sees what festers beneath the surface. It’s gorgeous and deranged, and he wants to be the one that frees reader of this delusion they’ve foolishly attempted to tell themselves.

Where Saints Are Buried

Note: Honey… you basically wrote the story for me lmao. Let me see if I can elaborate a little further.

Warnings: None aside from mentions of violence.

Synopsis: To be loved as a lie, or wanted as a weapon— choose. This is not a love story, it’s a recognition. You were born righteous and powerful, but there’s always been a tremble in your hands, an ache to ruin. He sees it— Mark sees all of it. And he’s not afraid. He’s enthralled.

Sinister Mark x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1,848

No one ever asked what it cost you to stay kind. You were supposed to be the good one. That’s what they told you, over and over again, until the words wrapped around your spine like chains. You were the miracle, the blessed one, the glowing future on two legs. A child of light.

It wasn’t born in a lab. It wasn’t given. It was carved. Forged into you by something older than the stars—older than reason itself. When it woke inside you, it wasn’t loud. It was a stillness that made the world hold its breath. The kind of silence that hums with pressure. Like the moment right before lightning splits the sky. The kind that people cannot name. So they dressed you in gold and white and hoped it would make you smaller

It didn’t manifest in colors or capes. It came in gravity shifts and fractures in space that shouldn’t be possible. In the way time seemed to bend around your anger. In the way your hands could pull apart things reality claimed were solid.

Your power wasn’t designed for saving people. It was made to undo. Undo structures. Undo flesh. Undo fate. Some days, when you used it, you swore you could feel something watching— Not a god. Not a person. Something deeper. Something waiting. And it liked when you let go.

The first time your powers manifested, you were twelve. There was a fire. A scream. A snap of instinct and suddenly— You were burning, but untouched. Everything else? Gone.

They told you, you’d saved lives. That you were destined for more.

And maybe that’s where it started. The lie.

And for a while, you believed it.

Because it was easier than asking why your hands shook after battle—not from fear, but from the electric hunger that hummed in your bones when the dust settled. Why your lungs expanded too eagerly in smoke and ruin. Why you sometimes looked into the eyes of a man begging for mercy and felt…  Nothing. You let them paint you as the symbol. The protector. You stood on podiums. You learned how to smile for cameras. You memorized what to say. You wore righteousness like armor, but it always fit too tight—cutting, pinching, reminding you that you were built for war, not worship. They called it justice. You always called it endurance.

And now, it’s a lie that’s left rotting beneath your skin. Because, if this is what truth feels like—bare, bloodied, burning—then maybe you were never meant to wear white in the first place. Perhaps you were never pure. The fibs that etched themselves into your memory pondered the grandeur of breaking the world into pieces rather than rebuilding what was meant to starve.

But still, you tried. You told yourself it was nothing, perhaps a glitch in your humanity. A leftover survival instinct. You buried it beneath mission reports, beneath clean costumes and you trained. You learned how to hold your head up just enough to look hopeful, humble.

You gave them what they wanted: a god who looked like salvation.

But beneath the surface?

There was always something else. 

It wasn’t rage. Not really. Rage is loud. Blunt. This thing inside you—it was quiet. Slow. Patient. It coiled around your heart like smoke, whispering,  “Let it break. Let it all fall.”

You buried it under good deeds and speeches about “hope.” When the line between stopping and breaking blurred, and you didn’t stop yourself. You were a hero. That’s what they called you. So you kept smiling. Kept posing for the cameras. Kept lying.

And no one ever saw it.

Until him. Sinister Mark didn’t need to see it. He already knew.

From the very first time your eyes met, he looked at you not like a threat—not like a rival— but like something he recognized. Like he’d been waiting for you. He didn’t monologue. He didn’t sneer. He didn’t make a show of being your opposite. He just… smiled. A smile that held a blanketed warmth unforeseen before. That calm, infuriating, terrifying smile that told you— “I know what you are. You can’t lie to me.”

And when you struck him? When you gave in, even for a moment, to that creeping thing inside you?  He laughed. A real laugh. Like you were art. Like you were finally becoming something worth watching. Observing that sliver of chaos you spent years trying to hide. That crack in your moral armor. That hunger you dared not name. You told yourself you hated him.

Told yourself he was evil. A monster. That his interest in you was twisted, predatory, vile. That he doesn't beg you to stop. He begs you to admit that you like it like an addict. But when you lay awake at night, soaked in sweat and silence, it wasn’t his cruelty that haunted you— It was the way he looked at you like you weren’t a lie. Like he didn’t need you to be good to find you beautiful. Like the part of you, you’ve hated most was the one he admired. Finally having someone who didn’t require you to lie about the instincts crawling beneath your flesh. You crafted yourself from applause and duty, but the mirror only shows blood and breath and eyes that don’t blink when they should. What do you do when the thing you’ve always feared becoming looks more honest than anything you’ve been? Somewhere within, the hero is still trying to stand up. you just aren’t sure if you want them to anymore. Tonight, something in you changes.

You’re not on a rooftop for some dramatic aesthetic. You’re here because you can’t face a mirror. There was another mission. Another “victory.” Another moment where your powers overwhelmed the intention behind them. They said you saved people. You stopped the threat. You did your job.

But you know what you felt when you held that last man by the throat, when he clawed at your wrist— Relief. Satisfaction. And worse…  Joy. What would happen if you let go? If you stopped playing the part the world wrote for you, and stepped into the role that fit like a second skin. Not a villain. Not a monster. Just you. Unfiltered and unleashed. Who would… retaliate?

He found you before you found him. Your hands are still shaking when you hear the soft impact of boots on concrete behind you. You don’t look, you already know it is. His presence moves like gravity. A slow, dark pull that you pretend doesn’t drag at your ribs. He doesn’t speak, not at first anyway. Just stands beside you, the space between you buzzing like a live wire.

“I hurt them,” you say, your voice cracking, but quiet. “Too much. They said I did the right thing.”

Mark tilts his head, like he’s studying the shape of your guilt.  “You did. You stopped them.”

“They weren’t supposed to die.”

He hums. “But part of you liked that they did.”

Your breath shudders, your flesh stings as your chest suddenly drags with the weight of the earth. Your body lurches forward, “Then why do I feel like I can’t breathe?”

He stepped closer. Just near enough that you felt the heat off his skin. “Because you’re suffocating in the skin they gave you.” And then, softer—almost reverent:  “I see what you are. And it’s beautiful.” And still—you don’t deny it. Because he doesn’t need you to. Because you’re so, so tired of pretending and he’s finally offering you an out. 

He takes a step closer. “You’ve been trying to wear a mask so long you forgot what your own face looks like.” His voice is low, almost gentle. Not mocking.  Not this time. He leans in, barely touching, his breath brushing your ear like a secret. “Let it crack.” The tension felt like romantic horror— one where their always on the verge of consuming each other. His voice reaches places that your conscience won’t. His words cause a greedily warmth to dust your skin, craving to be seen. 

Because for the first time, someone wasn’t praising your perfection. He was worshipping your ruin. He did not crave your kindness—he craved the monster you hide. The man had fault lines and a smile sharp enough to split a man. And god help you— You liked it.

So you kept fighting him. That’s what heroes do. 

You turn to him. Your eyes—wild and vulnerable. “Why do you care?” It’s not accusation. It’s confusion, desperation even. It’s you, standing at the edge of yourself. And he answers like it’s obvious, like it’s something you should know.

“Because I’ve seen gods destroy worlds for less than what lives inside you.”  He steps forward, one hand lifting to your cheek—not touching, but close.  “And I want to be here when you finally stop lying to yourself.” 

You could break now. You could fall apart. But for once, maybe that’s not the worst thing. Maybe being seen—truly seen—isn’t damnation. Maybe it’s the first real breath you’ve ever taken. And for the first time in your life… You let it show. And he smiles like he’s witnessing a gorgeous storm splitting the dam that is your restraint. Like you’re the most beautiful disaster he’s ever known.

He had seen galaxies collapse and stars choke on their own fire, but none of it compares to the moment you stopped pretending to be good. This is what gods must look like, just before they fall. Just before they experience the precipice of a world rightfully theirs.

He truly saw potential. What lied in wake for him to inspire. You were not born of mercy but of aftermath; a cathedral built from the bones of your restraint. He would be the one to set you free. The elegant bird trapped in a cage of their own suffering. You were not redemption or wrath, you were his and if wanting you damned him then let Hell open its gates and take notes.

So he stepped closer, slowly, like he was approaching a creature more divine than dangerous. And when his mouth met yours, it wasn’t gentle—a desperate reckoning. A trembling kind of hunger, like he was kissing the end of the world and begging it to stay just a second longer. He kissed as if knowing you'd cause ruin, like he'd forgiven your naivety in rejecting who you truly are, and pleased to watch you do so through shaking hands and wet eyes.

Because to be ugly is to be loved. And to be seen is to stand naked before him and still be held.

A/N: Chat, did we cook? (This was so scrumptious to write.) we love creative anons, UGH! Yall peep the repetitiveness to drill in the point? Creative decision to show how the lead feels. It becomes exhausting to read at some point lmfao.

MasterList ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

[shizuturnspages]

Hello, You can make a yandere Wanderer/Scaramouche , Zhongli, arlecchino, neuvillette? ,Albedo? (creator?), Venti, Mavuika and Ei meet a reader who is almost identical to the person who died long ago (such as Venti's best friend, Ei's sister and the Salt Goddess etc) . The reader is identical, but not exactly identical, like the color of the hair and eyes. Thank you, your reading is great!

Echoes of the Past

Synopsis: You are not them. But it does not matter. Because now, you are theirs. Pairings: [Separate] Yandere Wanderer, Zhongli, Arlecchino, Neuvillette, Albedo, Venti, Mavuika, & Ei x Reader who Resembles Their Lost One

Wanderer / Scaramouche – The Puppet’s Haunting Past

At first, he thinks it’s a cruel joke.

A twisted trick played by fate to torment him further.

When he sees you in the marketplace, his heart stops.

He sees the familiar tilt of your head, the same way Niwa used to look at the world—with curiosity, with kindness. But that’s impossible.

Niwa is gone.

Wanderer is frozen in place, hands clenched at his sides, watching as you move through the crowd, unaware of his piercing gaze.

And then—

"Tch." His voice is sharp, bitter, filled with something he refuses to name. "This is ridiculous."

But he follows you.

He does not know why.

Only that he must.

And when you finally turn, eyes locking with his, he feels something inside him snap.

You are not Niwa.

But that does not matter.

Because now, you belong to him.

Zhongli – The Remnants of a Shattered Past

He drops his teacup.

Porcelain shatters against the ground, but he does not move to pick it up.

He is staring.

For the first time in centuries, Zhongli feels as if he has forgotten how to breathe.

Guizhong.

He can see her in you—not entirely, but enough. The way your lips curve into a soft, thoughtful smile, the way you tilt your head in curiosity. It is too much.

Rationality tells him that you are not her. That you could not possibly be her.

But reason means nothing when confronted with a past that refuses to stay buried.

He approaches you, voice smooth but laced with something almost desperate.

"Forgive me," he murmurs, watching your every movement. "But you remind me of someone very dear to me."

He does not say that he intends to keep you.

But he will.

And he will never let you leave.

Arlecchino – The Flame That Refuses to Die

She hates this.

You remind her of him.

The one who raised her, the one who shaped her into who she is—the Father she buried with her own hands.

And yet, here you stand.

Smiling that same infuriating smile.

She wants to ignore you. To pretend you do not exist.

But her eyes always find you in the crowd.

Her mind refuses to let go.

And before she knows it, she has you cornered.

Her gloved fingers trail along your cheek, deceptively gentle.

"You have no idea what you’ve done," she murmurs, eyes dark.

Because now—

She cannot let you go.

Neuvillette – The Mourning Judge

It is raining.

It has been raining since the moment he saw you.

Neuvillette does not understand why the sight of you unsettles him so deeply.

Until he realizes—

Egeria.

The one he lost. The one who guided Fontaine, whose absence left a wound that never fully healed.

And now, you.

You are not her. And yet, something in the way you move, in the way you speak—it is too close.

Too painful.

He does not approach you immediately. He simply watches, silent, distant, his expression unreadable.

But the rain continues.

And when he finally does speak, his voice is impossibly soft—

"You should not be alone."

You shifted uncomfortably. “Do I… know you?”

His pale eyes darkened.

"No," he murmured. "But I knew you."

Your brows furrowed in confusion, but Neuvillette did not elaborate.

Instead, he simply watched you.

Silent.

Possessive.

Rain poured harder, soaking his coat—soaking you.

He did not care.

For the first time in centuries…

He had something worth keeping.

Albedo – The Creator’s Repeating Experiment

At first, he does not react.

He simply observes.

You are not Rhinedottir. Your eyes are different, your voice is not the same.

And yet.

There is something in your expression—some unspoken familiarity—that grips him in a way he cannot explain.

Albedo does not believe in fate.

But this?

This is close.

"You are intriguing," he says at last, tilting his head. "I wonder…"

He steps closer.

"Would you allow me to study you?"

There is no real question in his voice.

Because now that he has found you—

He will never let you go.

Venti – The Wind That Carries Memories

Venti forgets how to breathe.

He stops playing his lyre mid-song, fingers frozen over the strings.

You are standing there, bathed in Mondstadt’s golden light, and for a moment—just a moment—he thinks he sees him.

His best friend.

The boy who once dreamed of freedom.

Venti’s chest aches.

And then, you smile.

And his vision blurs.

He appears before you in an instant, his usual playful demeanour gone.

"Hey," he breathes, voice trembling slightly. "Do you… believe in destiny?"

His fingers curl around your wrist.

Because if this is fate—

He won’t let it slip away again.

Mavuika — The Ghost of the Fallen God

She stares.

For a long time, she does nothing but stare.

You look just like Xbalanque.

The deity she lost, the one who was taken from her—the one whose absence left her hollow.

Mavuika does not speak at first. She simply stands in your path, silent and still, her piercing eyes locked onto you.

Then, softly—

"I have waited a long time."

Her voice is almost gentle.

But there is something dangerous beneath it.

"You will not leave me again."

And she means it.

Ei – The Raiden Shogun’s Eternal Mourning

It was a cruel trick.

Fate had already taken too much from her.

Makoto. Her people. The ones she had loved.

And now—

Now, it dared to put you before her, looking so much like her sister yet not.

Ei’s grip on her sword tightened.

You turned to face her, eyes questioning. “Do you need something?”

Her breath caught.

For a moment, she saw Makoto.

For a moment, she thought she could reach her.

And then, the realization sank in.

Her blade lowered.

"You will stay in Inazuma," she said softly—too softly.

You blinked. “I never said—”

"It was not a request."

This time, she would not be left behind.

[rise-my-angel]

SFW Alphabets

Jon Snow and Robb Stark

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

Length: 17.7k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, character deaths, mild mentions of blood and gore, jealousy and possessive behaviors, mentions of past sexual assault and trauma, talk of pregnancy, disturbing imagery, mention of infant death

Notes: Much like my nsfw alphabet, this is primarily based off of my series Heart of the Great Wolf. Once more Jons is split between pre and post resurrection as I consider the character development between those years apart to be drastic enough to warrant further elaboration. NSFW Alphabet Here, Series Masterlist Here

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Robb:

There is no wondering if the King in the North adores his wife. From when Robb was young and first met you, he was eager to be your friend. Having a friend that was a girl was different then what he was used too, surrounded by boys and his brother. You were softer and more quiet, timid almost. He learned quickly that he needed a softer touch when handling you and that included physical as well. His mother had joked that it well prepared him to have a little sister by the time Sansa was born. Growing up, he would be tied between treating you playfully and treating you with a gentle touch, both things which would occur at the same instances sometimes. He would knock you down in the training yard, but gently help you up with a guiding hand right after.

Now however, that you are his wife? That affection has skyrocketed. Robbs eyes are bright and full of joy when you walk in the room and he refuses to be the kind of man who hides that. Why should he pretend his world does not light up whenever you step back into his view? His father never hid away his love for his wife, so Robb did not grow up with the idea that thats how men should treat the women they love, in hiding and private. He has you sit or stand right beside him during his war councils, refuses to be satisfied falling asleep unless you are tucked away in his arms in front of him. Always a hand is on you. It rests on your thigh during discussions, on your back or hips when walking as he keeps you beside him on his path to not stray too far.

Too Robb never shies away from having his lips on you. Not over stepping what is appropriate in a public setting, but he loves pressing his lips to you in any way. In passing he would kiss the back or side of your head, press a gentle kiss to your sweet lips when he cannot overcome his adoration of you right in front of him, kiss your hand or cheek when he is feeling more playful in front of his men. He never hides away from pressing his lips to yours in some way. There is no mistakening that Robb Stark showers you in affection, and he will never care about hiding that fact in front of anyone.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

Affection is something that comes naturally to Jon, but in different ways. He truly has two levels of affection. One his siblings receive, which arguably is the more bountiful one, and the second is reserved only for you. He loves his siblings, he adores them. No matter how strained or distant or difficult they can get when he is balancing five of them in his life, he will always show them affection. Robb was known for it too, but none moreso then Jon was used to showing his siblings he cares by placing a tender kiss to their forehead. None of them have gone unscathed with that. Sometimes in it’s place, he’ll ruffle their hair instead to see their reaction. Arya and Rickon respond the best with that, and it only made him do it more and more.

But with you, it’s different. His affection isn’t as open. Jon adores you, he would never come close to saying it outloud and would hesitate to even think it to himself in private, but he loves you. His eyes are drawn to you, and he always wants to give you what you deserve, especially as the years passed and you grew harsher and more closed off in so many ways. He can’t show you such affection in public, it would cross a line that Jon knew he’d struggle to reign in before getting there. He’s playful and soft with you of course, but nothing that would stand out against the ways Robb was affectionate. Instead, the rest of it was saved for in private. Soft touches, gentle kisses and holding you closely to keep you warm and reassured. It was never going to be as much as he wished he could show you, but it was the best he could do for being with a girl he was never supposed to have.

Jon Post Resurrection:

Affection comes different to Jon now. There is a passion in his heart for you, but it is expressed in a way that to outsiders, looks cold and distant. In a way, he almost fulfills more the image which Northerners are known to have, a reputation of people who are only stern and unfeeling. But, what they don’t see is how deep Jons emotions run. They are almost caged inside him to not explode every chance they get, only ever doing so when it is with you. Once, Jon used to be scared of showing you that side of himself. Thinking it would scare you away.

It was a bit of a slow burn, as you both rekindled that love for one another where you returned that hesitancy to be affectionate as much as Jon, that almost helped him. He could step back and realize that he couldn’t stand being distant with you, but breaking his heart that you had resigned yourself to never having love again. It fueled that drive and passion to show you his deep love for you now, and once a crack was made in that regard there was no going back. All of that affection is now saved for you almost exclusively. His siblings, his friends, Ghost, of course they all experience it in smaller degrees, but his true passion? Jon saves that for you and you alone.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Robb:

If he were to attach the most strict labels to things, no he in all technicality, was not your best friend. That was his brother. But, that did not mean you two weren’t incredibly close. He had been eager to show you around at first, young and fell of energy and excited at having someone new in his life in a more significant capacity. So, once you started coming out of your shell, it was easy for Robb to step in and fill that spot which once held nervousness and replace it with a sense of adventure. You two got into trouble all the time, and it was always Robb’s fault but you two never changed behaviours nor even attempt to stop. You could shove him and insult him and he could ruffle at your hair and mock you and it never was unwanted or unforgivable.

The older you both got, that still stayed, but it became more mature in nature. Then much of that rambunctious and mischievous behaviour now focused in the training yard where a lot of that energy could come out. He and Jon both had a hand in teaching you things, and both had their strategies. Jon was more unforgiving, whereas Robb would feel comfortable making you step back and listen to his advice instead of teaching it to you with force. In your off times, you would still spend much time together. Now more laughing and drinking and sometimes even hunting, Robbs skill was never failing to be able to make you smile. Something which felt rare at times.

Now that you’re married? It is a completely different scenario. Especially after hearing of Theons betrayal, you became all the other had. You could only rely on each other, you both only truly trusted each other and would ensure as much time was spent together then anything else. Glued to your side as you were to his, everyone could tell once Theon had invaded with the Ironborn and taken Winterfell, that you and Robb never left each others side. You weren’t just best friends, you were the others only true remaining friends. It strengthened that love and bond that marriage had brought you. Maybe as children Jon was certainly your best friend, but by the end, Robb knew that he was your best friend as you were his and neither of you had any complaint about it.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

The truth was, Jon was your best friend. He was the one who finally got your shy, timid exterior to crack. He got you to open up, he made it easier for you to talk and laugh and finally let loose in Winterfell and he always felt pride in it. He had watched over your sick self for three days and three nights obsessing over not wanting to lose you despite barley knowing you, and he never wasted a single second since then. He grew up watching over you, and always being the one you circled back around to. He taught you how to use a sword first, he was the one who would wake you up to sneak out of the castle walls trying to find time for just you both together and no one else. Being the one you were closest too by a long shot, and he never took that duty lightly.

As you both grew older and closer, by the time Jon kissed you that night in the rain, he knew being your best friend would make this a little bit easier. He knew you well, your wants and fears and when you were holding back for his sake. Jon would be a little more assertive and make advances on you, simply because as your best friend he knew you better then anyone. No random Lord you may one day marry would know how to handle you, so he always did his best. You never stopped being his best friend just because you were together now. It only made your feelings for each other even stronger.

Jon Post Resurrection:

He knew it was ironic. Once you were best friends, and yet now, Jon was aware that things had changed. If right off the bat someone asked him who his closest friend was, he knew Sam would come out easy of his mouth, or possibly Tormund. You were the most important thing in his life, and being best friends was still something you were to one another but it wasn’t quite the same. That time period of being away from one another had changed aspects of you that developed separately and reconciling that when so much is different now came easier then he thought.

Jon knew now that you needed someone to be there for you now in a way that he couldn’t. For you, he knew Theon was your best friend now. And he understood that without any malice. Despite Theons painful betrayal, the both of you experienced trauma together at the hands of the Boltons had bonded you together in a manner that no one, including Jon would have any way to truly comprehend. He helped you escape to run to Jon for safety, and he could accept that it put Theon in a spot that Jon used to be as your best friend. He accepted that. Jon was so much more to you now, and you to him then merely best friends who love each other.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Robb:

This man cannot even sleep properly if you are not in his arms. The first night you married, you fell asleep perfectly in his arms and he drifted to sleep just as easily. You were warm and soft and comforting to his soul as he was yours. You were leaving for Kings Landing the very next day, and he had to treasure that time, and treasure it he did. For months afterwards as you were away in Kings Landing, Robb found himself resenting his bedchambers. He barley wanted to sleep in there and would put it off as much as he could. He’d walk in, and see the spot which should’ve been yours and yearn for you to suprise him by riding through the gates any moment. So when you returned to him? Not even the desperation of the situation could’ve settled the relief he felt in getting you back into his arms.

Now out in war, there quite literally had never been a night of sleep where you weren’t there. Some times yes, he was guilty of feeling so overworked that he never joined you in bed, but he was still there, in sight and watching you. Most nights he did sleep, and he’d always end up in the exact same position. Turning you on your side, and pulling your back close to press against his chest, arms wrapped safe around you and waiting for you to fall asleep first, before nuzzling into your hair and joining soon afterwards. It was the only times of true peace and contentment Robb had found in years and would find for years. In those nights, you both falling asleep usually bare and cuddled in the others arms were Robbs favourites and he would not hesitate to admit it to you.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

When he was younger, Jon could get away with it. You were both young and innocent and no one would bat an eye at two children close in that manner. Jon had a vivid memory of an early night in your first stay in Winterfell. You were in a more empty stretch or corridors, and a great storm felt as if it had blown over and being in such a new place made you feel frightened. You had come to Jons room, quietly asking if you could sleep in there that night. Jon never hesitated to let you. You curled up right away as Jon tentatively inched closer before feeling confident to let a hand sit on your side so you felt him there as you drifted off.

But things got more complicated after you begun spending intimate time together. Jon would take whatever chances he could. Sneaking around with you meant that he was always on alert as to whom might walk in on you both at any moment, and he never could keep you in a position too long that you wouldn’t be able to jump away from to appear innocent. Only when alone in the wolfswood did he have that freedom, but that wasn’t a place to cuddle. He would sometimes lay down with you, careful in a position that while would get him into trouble if caught, could not be explained with a lie. He hated it, he wanted to have you close the way a man should with his girl, but Jon never had that chance. He never got to be soft with you the way he knew you deserved.

Jon Post Resurrection:

Again that cold Northern demeanour kicks in. His siblings, friends, and even the Lords and Ladies he is closer too all know differently but to many, Jon knew that he likely looked very distant from you. Hardly touching you in a public setting, and certainly never being so brazen as to kiss you in public. His reasoning being twofold, he was never a large fan of such public displays from couples but too it was to ensure his men respected you. Saw you as a capable Queen as much as they saw a capable King in him, and not babying you with physical touch in public was his way to subtly enforce that image.

In private though? He had nothing holding him back, nor at this point would he want too. Many times he could find himself coming up behind you, wrapping his hands around your front to pull you back into him or keeping his hands steady on your hips to keep you in place. Not shying away from pressing his lips to yours, and almost unsettled in bed if he did not have your frame curled into his front where he could hide you away and protect you from the world. The few nights he had to sleep without you cuddled into him were incredibly lonely, and typically, resulted in barley any sleep. He adored being so physical with you, but as much as something within him wanted to stake his claim on you for everyone to see in multiple ways, this soft tenderness when you both cuddled together was something that he was selfish enough to keep for himself.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Robb:

It is a little different for Robb. He has many skills of course, but he was the firstborn son. The heir to Winterfell. The eventual King in the North. There are certain domestic traits which he as a highborn and a King do not engage in. He knows how to cook, and he is not a child who has no understanding of keeping things clean or organized, but it is less of a priority. He will always have people to take care of those things for him. He does what he can, you both prefer to help each other dress and undress in the mornings and nights as opposed to having any maids or squires do so. You trim his curls when they get too long and sit perched ever so carefully on his lap to help trim his facial hair. He takes care of you in the bath, treating you like a fragile little doll to clean. But, he simply does not need to worry about such things as much as say, a smallfolk couple.

Settling down too is unique for Robb. He was raised with the unwavering expectation that he is to marry and have children. All highborns are raised to know this, and few would ever look down on it. Robb wanted it. He saw his father and mother and their happy family and always wanted one of his own. He was simply thrilled with the fact that he gets to have that with you. He doesn’t need to think much about settling down when it comes to you, its a duty, an expectation, and you both were prepared to do what needed to be done, and better yet, both of you enjoy it.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

A unique position Jon was in. He was born to a high Lord, and lived in his home with his trueborn siblings. He was raised with amenities that most could never dream of, and servants were always around. He didn’t have to do the hard work to lean certain skills, but, Jon knew he did anyways. As a bastard, Jon knew it was a possibility that he’d be completely on his own one day and would need to only rely on his own skills to survive. He could do everything that people, including himself, had servants for, he just had yet to need the skills to survive.

Settling down though? It was out of the question. The only one he’d ever settle down with is you, and that was not an option. A royal Baratheon girl was far too good for the likes of a bastard. Jon spent years in secret romancing you, always knowing in the back of his head that one day he would have to give you up, and he knew he would never settle for anyone once you were gone.

Jon Post Resurrection:

Jon now was not unlike Robb in some respects. Of course there were tasks delegated to maids and servants, things that he had partially grown up accustomed too, but also now as King in the North his time was needed to be dedicated to much more pressing matters. If left a certain amount of things that he couldn’t do for you, simply because of time. But, there were still many things you and Jon saved only for each other.

The ends of the night, Jon would undress you, and you him. It was a quiet time, tender where he could watch your focused work and admire you, and then in turn get to run his hands all over you and unburden you from the days woes, even if only for now in the heavy clothes on your person. He also at that point had the maids all know, that once the tub is filled, leave the rest. Jon would always take care of you there, enjoying the hot water and having you bare and pressed against him without the requirement to make it sexual simply because you were both naked. His domestic tendencies came in the little things, small matters which to many highborns were so insignificant that it would even occur to them to not make their servants attend to it, but Jon always did. He made sure he did those small things for you, and you did them for him right back.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Robb:

There is no breaking up. It was extremely rare that annulment was granted to a highborn couple, even Kings and Queens were denied annulments. Especially under the Seven, it was seen as close to a sin as it could get to break a union apart, and were children involved? Then never would it be granted. Tearing a family apart was not what he was raised to think was acceptable. Even when he was at an age he did not know what kind of woman he’d be to marry, it did not matter if it did not serve happiness to either of them. If he wanted a marriage that could break apart, he would go find a place in Essos that did not care about that sort of thing.

Besides, Robb knows he loves you more then anything, and you him. He has no intent on ever even considering what would happen if you both were to not be together anymore. From this day until our last days, that was how it was for both of you. And to Robb, your last days together would only be one which ended in death. Only death would tear your marriage apart at this point, and Robb would not have it any other way.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

He had no choice. He wasn’t breaking up with you, nor were you breaking up with him, but this was all happening regardless. It was the Kings orders, or as you specified, your fathers orders disguised as the Kings orders. He knew he was going to have to give you up, but to his own brother? Robb? Who already got everything Jon ever wanted and now including his girl? It made him angry as much as it broke his heart, but he couldn’t show that. Showing how hurt he was, would only serve to hurt you more. He needed to be calm for you, to ensure you went into this inevitable marriage as strong and clearheaded as possible.

Jon felt a deep pain for a long time. You out of his life was one thing, you out of his life and making a new one with Robb was another. He never forgot about you at the Wall, or beyond it, or until the night he was stabbed by his own men. Nothing that happened made Jon forget you. He gave you up because he had too, but he took your gentle heart with him and kept it safe from that parting day until his last day. If Jon had a different chance in life, he knew without a doubt he would’ve never given you up.

Jon Post Resurrection:

There was no contest anymore. Jon had to give you up to his brother once, and it led to both of your horrific deaths. When he finally got you back, it was because you returned and brought him back. It was all a mess, but Jon knew he would never let you go again. And he would prove it time and time again, doing anything and killing anyone to keep you safe and alive and with him. It wasn’t forcing you with him against your will, it was very clear that you never wanted anyone but Jon the way he wanted no one but you, but Jon took that protectiveness within him and directed towards you with a burning fire blazing behind it. You two wouldn’t end until death pulled you apart, and even then, Jon might not be willing to let that stop him again either.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Robb:

Growing up watching the marriage between his mother and father gave Robb a more eager view of marriage then some other highborns. Many political marriages were cordial and civil, but few as he seemed to grow up realizing were as loving as the one in his own home. His mother and father truly spoiled Robb in the sense of what he grew up looking forward too. He wanted a bride he would love and treasure the way his father did his mother, to have children and a stable life with little issue. He was never scared of marriage, never saw it as a burden. It was a duty he looked forward too and even though all of that depended on his future bride, he still was optimistic.

When it was announced to him that he would be marrying you in only a little less then a month by the time the raven from Kings Landing arrived, yes it was a shock. He never thought it would be you he married, but he got used to the idea quick once the shock wore off. You were beautiful, sweet, intelligent, and he already had an idea of what living with you would be life, you’d served as his fathers ward on and off for half your life. He knew you’d be nervous, and apprehensive about putting Robb through this, but it just made him more eager to prove how much he wanted to do this. He wasn’t afraid of a life of marriage, and certainly not afraid of it being with you.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

Even if Jon took you out of his life’s equation, he’d never get married. Jon never wanted to marry or have children. Its what he had told himself for years. Being a bastard is lonely, no matter how much his father and siblings tried to make him always involved, there was that looming narrative over his head of who he was and always will be and how that made everyone else treat him. He never wanted that life for a child, and he never would have a child that didn’t have that name. No highborn lord would marry his daughter to a bastard, and he also simply wouldn’t wish to condemn any woman to taking a bastard name and giving their children bastard names. Or having another bastard on his own. It wasn’t an option. Jon would never do it.

In a world of fantasy, he would be able to marry you. That night under the Weirwood, you both talked of a life where you both lived in the Reach, meeting in a tavern near Highgarden and having nothing standing in your way of marrying. It was the only comforting thought Jon had at the Wall, the only thing he could turn to imagining that life. Multiple times he near found himself jealous of Sam for being from the Reach, as if that fact alone put Jon so much closer to that fantasy with you. It never would come, but he could think about it. He never wanted to marry anyone that wasn’t you as a boy, he never would marry anyone not wanting to condemn his child’s life to misery, and now at the Wall, he never would marry anyways. All he had was a memory of Highgarden and the Reach that would never truly exist.

Jon Post Resurrection:

Marriage was still a tricky subject for Jon, but not in the way he once thought. Now the dynamic was not giving you up, it was putting you back together after you had been ripped apart. The one thing through his jealousy over the years that Jon truly never wanted to do, was make you feel as if he was attempting to replace Robb. Nor did he ever want Robb to be watching him and think that either. He didn’t push for it. He thought of it all the time. He wanted to drag you out to the Weirwood the moment he had reclaimed Winterfell, but restrained himself for your sake, to not bombard you with his want of commitment when he knew how fresh the wounds were from losing Robb.

Then he said it. The first time making love to you on Dragonstone since that night in the cells of Castle Black, Jon said it in the heat of the moment. That he wanted to marry you, that such a thing was all he’s ever wanted. He couldn’t take it back. It was out in the open and you both finally talked about it. Coming together slowly to understand that little by little were you healing, and perhaps marrying Jon would help heal a part of you that felt so desperately alone. It was once of his favourite memories now, that beautiful evening marrying you under the Weirwood in his home the way he dreamed of since he was a boy. Jon was not afraid of commitment now, he was only ever afraid of pushing you too fast. But now that you are his wife? Now that he has you? Well, it is almost cute that you would ever find reason to doubt Jons love and affection for you. And he would spend his entire new life with you proving that no matter how often your frustrating little brain tried to lie to you otherwise.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Robb:

He is a man of duality. He can be both seamlessly and switch whenever he is needed to. One on hand, he was a Stark. Starks are as harsh as the winters they endure and he led an army of Northmen as their King. There was a degree of demand and respect he would get from his men and if not, establish his authority and make them respect that. He was not afraid to raise his voice, to be violent, to make the hard choices others would attempt to persuade him away from. But with you? It was different.

Rare was it Robb took anything out on you. Only once truly. Learning of Theons betrayal, his instinct was to ride North at once. Impulsive and rash but there was an anger burning inside of him for all he had just learned, and you were quick on your feet. Scurrying in front of him and pushing him back gently with your hands to implore him that you were all still at war. He had raised his voice at you, not to be mean, but a frustration and a helplessness manifested in an aggressive manner. You never held it against him through. You continued to show him support and counsel that he would understand until he felt his heart slow down from a racing speed.

Other then that, Robb was always gentle with you. Careful with your emotions, sensitive they were despite how hard you tried to show otherwise. Always sweet with you in the view of his men. He loved treating you like his Queen, treasure and spoil you like a Queen. He couldn’t do that here, not in an army camp in the middle of war, but he did so instead with how he treated you. His love for you was gentle, and while out at war, if that was the only thing he could treasure you with, he would do so with all the love he could summon.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

Jon was almost scared of being rough with you in any way. Ironically you always joked that it must be the opposite considering how he was the one unafraid of roughing you up in the training yard, but that had purpose. That taught you to be stronger and quicker. But the moment you stepped out of that yard, it was different. Sure, he would playfully manhandle you but that was no different to the ways Robb or Theon would do the same. You were simply smaller then them and were easy to toss around. Arya got the same treatment, so she understood your plight.

But when with you alone, Jon was nothing but gentle. The moment you came into his life, he just fell in love. He was soft and kind to you, a watchful protector at first making sure nothing ill or hurting would befall you again. Easing you into the way things were here and comforting you when lonely. That all made you trust him more and more but it almost made him softer for you. Rasping low words he would speak to you, his touch even when innocent was always gentle. He never wanted you to feel as if he would ever go too far in any way, no matter how much you never thought it would happen. There were areas of Jons life where he was rough and unkind, but being with you was never one of them.

Jon Post Resurrection:

It is a contrasting feeling with Jon, the way he is now. He is gentle and rough both, and sometimes you never know which to expect. He was a man whom still held a temper with the sharpness of a wolves claws and you never truly know when he would let it all out. On his men, on those who disobey him, and even sometimes when he is frustrated with you, that roughness will slip. His voice raises every so slightly with a strain that tells you he is still holding back, his hand usually running down his mouth or along his face in an exasperation. Rarely does he too show gentle physical affection. He keeps his hands, comments, and for your own awareness, his eyes to himself. There is seldom an indication in the face of the public which tells them that you are at the side of a warm, and gentle husband.

Alone though? Jon can indeed be very different. He routinely can switch between that rough and gentleness. While the rough usually seems to come out as a result of what you both are doing in his bedchambers during the hour of the wolf, bat, or whatever other hour Jons needs grow strong, the rest of the time? He is gentle. His voice soft and tender, his touch slow and purposeful and almost always meaning to soothe more then anything else. The way he runs his hands through your hair as he does it all up, or untangles it from the day. Taking your clothes off gentle or running a cloth over you when he has you both in the bath. His tone always quiet and murmuring as that deep rasp is but an entrancing husk in your ear and you feel as large and intimidating as Jon can be, it is in those moments which he is truly gentle. Alone with you and no one else to be on guard around. You, Jon can be gentle around because you are the only one who does and will ever trust being vulnerable around.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Robb:

He won’t per say, pull you into a hug the way two greeting friends may. In sensitive times or comforting you after the heat of passion in his bed he would, but otherwise, Robb showed that affection in different ways. It was always tied into his affectionate manner, his hands always on you, seeking any excuse to press his lips to any part of you. Robb didn’t hug you often out in war, but he did the best he could pushing his touch right up to that line.

When he did hug? He was loving. Pulling you close, an arm wrapped around your waist and the other smoothing down your hair, or as best he could when it was done up simply in the encampment. Help you bury your face in his neck as he kept you there until whatever calm you sought him out for was found and eased your worries. He’s used to being the eldest brother, he knows how to comfort in a hug when his younger siblings came running. And even though it was a little more intimate with you, that instinct to make you feel safe and protected was still there, if not more inflamed then usual.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

Stemming right from his affectionate behaviour, Jon is happy to give hugs to anyone he cares for. So many outsiders have this idea that the Northerners are such cold and uncaring people, when in reality, they simply save that for whom is most important. His siblings, especially the younger ones, got hugs all of the time while they were growing up. He and Arya even had their own special tradition, skinny and short as she was, she would jump up into his arms as he’d catch her and hold her close. One day he joked when she got older she’d be too big to do it anymore, but she insisted that the day she grew to be tall like Sansa would never happen.

With you though? That was the same, yet not. As children it could be, Jon could hug you and not think twice. It was not until he had become older, nearing his fourteenth name day that he realized that his physical closeness could be seen as with other intentions. So he changed things, usually keeping that for only when it was the two of you. Still you never questioned it, and it wasn’t until you both kissed did you realize why he had eased off of it and followed suit. He’d love to hug you more, but Jon just knows he can’t. He can’t hug you in public for risk of someone putting it together when he’d struggle to let go or keep it polite, and he couldn’t afford this being discovered. Not yet.

Jon Post Resurrection:

It once more was split between two sides of him. For his siblings? That affection had never gone away and it was going nowhere. The moment he and Arya were alone, she ran towards him, jumping into his arms as he caught her like it was any other time, or truly, like it had been the last time. She was a little bigger, and he a little more tired, but it was all the same. The same with seeing Bran again, the two brothers didn’t hesitate to bring the other into their arms tight, followed by a kiss to the forehead as Jon always had done with his younger siblings. One sibling did not have the same reaction, but she was another story, another problem which Jon did not wish to contemplate at that very moment. So he ignored their lack of affection.

It was not unlike before, but for very similar reasons oh his past life. Now, he could be seen with you, be open with you. But he chose not to, not in front of others typically. Jon reserved that softness for few people’s eyes. Perhaps it came from the fact that he knew even though the North called him King, he was still just a bastard. He felt he had to always prove he was worth this title that they and Robb bestowed upon him, trusted him with. He couldn’t look soft or distracted when it mattered, so he could continue to lead them all undoubted as much as he could manage.

In private though? Jon was always the one pulling you into his arms, keeping you close, and running his hands innocently over you. Having you in his arms felt safe, and as if he too were keeping you safe. It was comfortable, it eased the tension, the panic, the paranoia and vigilance which came forth with the traumas both of you had endured. He would ensure you slept with you in his arms, your front usually hidden in his chest as he keeps you hidden from the rest of the world, and many times, Ghost coming to sleep at your back to keep you just as protected.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Robb:

To an outsider? Yes it could be seen as fast. Married and together for only one night, then spent many months thousands of miles apart. By the time he said it, you had only once more been together for a few short weeks. Were that the only amount of time he knew you, that would be fast and it would be odd. He’d barley know you let alone enough to use such a passionate word.

But, that was not the case. He had known you since he was a boy of ten, and now at twenty and five, you were as part of his life as his siblings were, only more. It was after learning that his father had been murdered. He had taken you and twenty thousand some Northerners to march south and free him, and instead, Joffery had beheaded him for a treason he did not commit. It was beyond devastating. Robb was the eldest, the one leading this army. He should’ve been more composed, but he wasn’t. He disappeared from anyone sight. That pain needing to go somewhere he had slashed and hacked away at the bark of a strong tree as he let himself go more with each hit. You had come across him. Red in your eyes with tears he was sure you didn’t even know were pouring down your cheeks.

You had called to him, but there was little you both could say. You both knew. Instead, Robb dropped his sword as you both fell into each others arms. You both had promised to kill them all, and you both had told one another how much you loved them. He said it, you said it, and he never went back. It was natural to say it, because Robb did not care about the speed of which things were progressing emotionally. He needed you as you needed him now more then ever, and you both did not hide away that love was the most important aspect of all of it.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

He feels it. Don’t ever get Jon wrong. Deep down in his heart, he loves you. He’s in love with you. Every definition of the word love for him belongs to you. It always has. Since the moment he saw you across the yard on your first day that spark was there, and it was only cemented that first night he watched over your ill, unconscious, dying self that he understood this would not go away. He knew then you were his and he was yours, even if he didn’t know then what the word was.

But, he’d never say it. He never did say it. Telling you that would make it real to the point there would be no denying that your future together was always in question. What love could you both truly share in earnest when it would be taken away by your duty one day? Jon felt it and he always did, but he never said it. He was sure you felt it as well, but again, he never said it. It was putting you at a risk he wasn’t willing to have. Saying it was love to each other would make separating so much more painful, so as much as he desired to tell you the extent to which he’d always been deeply in love with you, Jon never did.

Jon Post Resurrection:

Jon had almost said it many times, had said it passively a few times after that, and then one much more obvious time to ensure it got through your thick skull. You were scared, and distant, and traumatized at first. He refused to push you more then he worried he already had, and ensured that he wasn’t continuing to push you too much. Robb was a major factor. Jon loved you, he always had and now something dark, and clawing, and burning was deep within his chest that radiated something even more possessive then love, but he knew the part of him which as ostensibly still a man, knew better. Robb was your husband, the man you died with, the father of the child murdered within your womb beside him. He refused to have you wrongly think he wanted to replace Robb. He didn’t. Part of Jon wished and always had wished he could walk in Robbs shoes and even more when he married you, but not enough to push you before you were ready to handle it.

Now though? He wonders if he doesn’t say it enough. Jon is not an overly talkative man, neither you a talkative woman but you had the intelligence and eloquence of a life of royalty to know how to articulate yourself better then he could. Jon usually preferred to act a physical being, show you rather then tell you and he wonders now sometimes if he was neglecting to make sure you knew with no doubt that he loved you. You both felt it, but he knew sometimes he was so quiet and closed off, you may just so happen to doubt how much and that was a worry Jon did not wish to ever give you.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Robb:

If there was only one truth in the whole of the Seven Kingdoms, it was that Robb Stark was indeed a jealous man. It didn’t always come off so easily. He wasn’t aggressive or rude, nor did he border into possessiveness about it. Robb knew he had you, you were his wife, about to soon be the mother of his child, and the Queen at his side. No one else stood a chance, let alone against the sheer love you felt for another. But, you were more then those things. You were still highborn, before this you were still essentially a royal princess just without the title, you were beautiful and intelligent and well spoken and your hand always sought after but never able to get close. Robb knew you were popular in the realm even if you didn’t see it that way.

Which meant in a camp full of soldiers, you were something for them to think about. He had eyes, so he could see how men looked at you. And through more..unnatural manners...did he also hear what they said about you in their private laughs. You were an object of desire for them, but it only bothered Robb when it was so brazen. When someone put you in that position directly, let alone in front of Robb. He never had to be aggressive about it. Robb knew exactly how to stand his ground and assert his authority without raising his voice or using force. He would make them back down without much effort.

He wanted to show you off, but he also wanted to keep parts of you all to himself and the best way to ensure no one overstepped, Robb would simply have to keep you with him at all times to ensure no one made you uncomfortable with comments or advances. Not that he was opposed to the idea, and he was fairly sure you weren’t either despite your protests.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

Jon was jealous twofold. But that came as a slow burn of jealousy. At first, he was jealous of Robb. He was their fathers firstborn son, he was the heir to Winterfell, he was the trueborn and he got everything Jon wanted. On a good day, Jon could admit that Robb was better at him then near everything. On his bad days, he would wish to argue how much better at Robb he was then things, but, those came less and less the more he moved away from his teenage years. He was jealous of Robb his whole life, and there was no getting around that. But that jealousy didn’t come with hatred. Just envy.

Only, it was a bit different now. Still, there was no resentment or hatred, but that envy and anger was strong. Because now Jon had a reason to be jealous. Robb was marrying you. It was neither of your choices, but that did not take away from the fact that it was going to happen. You’d marry him, have his children and a happy life that Jon could never give you. It stung, it stung a lot watching the brother he always saw get everything Jon wanted, now too, having his girl. And in truth, even at the Wall, Jon never stopped being jealous. It always just sat there, brewing behind the scene ready to flare up at any moment.

Jon Post Resurrection:

Jealous was the wrong word. Jealous implied that there was anything another man could want with you, from you, or offer you that he couldn’t give or have with you himself. Sometimes, what he got was insecure. What Jon felt was the weight of a bastard who married a girl raised as a princess, and what he couldn’t offer you. You deserved the kind of luxury you were raised with in the Crownlands, but he was a bastard, he hadn’t been able to give you that before and he barley could now. It made him insecure around very few, only those which could offer you such a life now. Jon had never said it outloud, nor would he, but there was a very short list of men who Jon feared may offer you the life of a Queen you deserve and he would only have the love in his heart to offer you to stay.

The only other thing he got was possessive. But that had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with the fact that Jon knew what men were, and did not appreciate the thoughts of men being directed towards you. You were Jons, there was no going back on that now and he would glare so harsh across the way at men looking at you, that they’d stop simply because the men could feel the target of danger being painted on their backs. Jon would keep his distance, but take you harder and longer those nights. Leave a claim on you so deep that any man who came anywhere near you could sense his person on you thick like incense being blown in their faces, and they would know a possessive wolf had you for himself already.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Robb:

Robb will kiss you anywhere, any time. Literally. He needs no reason to kiss you. The second he shared your first kiss together in his bedchambers only hours before the wedding ceremony, he knew he’d find himself always wanting more. Especially now out here, at war. He would make sure he valued every single second he had with you in case of the worst. He’d barley ever let you walk away from him to attend to your duties without pulling you in for a kiss. He’d pass you by in any way and press his lips to your hair, or in front of his men to be formal yet cheeky, press a kiss to the back of your hand or a gentle peck on the cheek. All knew he wanted to kiss you more, but they were amused at their Kings attempt at self restraint.

Robb loves kissing down your neck. Not even to mark it up roughly, but how sensitive you were there the tender skin, how when you’d try to speak when he did so you’d stutter, and that high pitched gasp so sweet. Making your breath hitch each press of his lips? He loved it, it made you so pliable as you’d melt in his arms and he adored it. As for where you’d kiss him, Robb loved you’d press your lips down his chest. Usually making your way to another destination, but he loved the look of you small against his broad frame and your pretty lips pecking at what you could find as if unhappy to leave any skin untouched.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

It sounded so innocent to say, but Jon loved when you kissed his cheek. For years as a shy little girl, it was the way you showed you were grateful. A simple kiss to his cheek usually paired with that bright, sweet smile you saved only for him. He wasn’t brazen enough to do it back, too afraid it would show off his feelings, but sometimes when he was feeling cheeky, he’d dramatically kiss the back of your hand with a bow before leaving the room, always making you and sometimes his father laugh at his antics.

When he kissed you for the first real time though? Thats what he adored. Your lips were soft and perfect and followed along with his so well, it was as if you both were made to kiss the other. He couldn’t get enough of it, really. Not wanting to sound full of himself, but he kissed you so much and enjoyed it so much he considered it likely one of his secret great skills. He took pride in that, and any chance he had you properly alone for a decent period of time, he would spend hours kissing you if he could.

Jon Post Resurrection:

That had not changed in him. That Jons favourite thing to do was to kiss you. Only now, he did not need to hide it. And he was not so private that he would never kiss you where anyone could see your embrace. His usual now was a kiss to your sweet lips, before he’d cup your cheeks to tilt your head down, pressing a kiss to your forehead and many times the hair at the top of your head. Sometimes moving you back up at the right angle to kiss you once again.

He could never explain it, but there was something about kissing you that he adored. He was good at it, he could do it now whenever he liked, and he could control how long he kissed you and many times, often did. Stealing your breathe in a perfect way, your air taken away and being reliant on Jon to let you go to even be free? It was everything he wanted, and he exploited that. If Jon had one way to show his love, it was kissing you, and it was the one skill he could say he had over many men and he would hold to that one boost of real confidence.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Robb:

He grew up the eldest sibling. He had 5 brothers and sisters, he was very used to it. He was eleven, near twelve by the time Sansa was born. So he got very used to what little children were like, especially when Arya and Bran followed not terribly long afterwards. Rickon was still but a baby when he left Winterfell for war. He was confused by everyone leaving, and the chaos surrounding Brans fall and his mothers absence. He’d follow Robb around all day everyday, clutching at his leg and crying. Robb did what he could, and while what he could was alright, he suspected Rickon appreciated Robb trying more then if he succeeded.

It made wanting children with you easy. Seven hells he’d been trying, but war was taking an incredibly stressful toll on your body and he suspected it was making it harder for you to conceive a child. He didn’t blame you, it would happen when the gods knew your body was ready for it to happen and he wouldn’t try to force it any sooner. But he wanted children, at least six, as many as his father had. And the moment you had come to him telling him you were with child? Well, Robb knew it was only a matter of time before that picture became a reality, and he couldn’t wait.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

Was Jon good around kids? Yes. Did he like kids? Yes. Did he want kids? No, never. He half raised four of his siblings, he was always good with kids and he enjoyed them. He adored that Rickon was born so late, so that while his other siblings were getting old enough to not wanting to be so attached to their siblings sides, Rickon was young enough that he still did so. Rickon was found at Jons side if not Robbs a lot, and they both were happy for it.

But Jon wanting kids? That was a life for a Jon that did not hold the surname Snow. He refused to father a bastard, and he refused to give himself any chance that would result in it. He didn’t go through with losing your virginity’s together that afternoon because of that dark voice in his head pecking at him like a raven asking what if he got you pregnant. He couldn’t do that to a child, being a bastard was not a good life for a child and he wouldn’t be the one to do continue the cycle.

Jon Post Resurrection:

If he were attempting to keep his words in polite company, Jon would simply say that he was more then eager to become a father. He half raised all of his younger siblings, he was always good with kids and he still was. He spent time with less younger ones these days, but he spent much time with Gilly’s son, Sam. Acting almost something like an uncle to the small boy, Jon felt internally that it was quite good practice for when you and him had a child and they came of that age. Not that Jon wanted to necessarily push you for that so soon, losing your first in your womb left scars both literally and figuratively that he was sensitive not to overstep.

It didn’t stop Jon from wanting them though. He wanted to see you swell with his child, with many of his children as he also wanted to see you with many little ones running about around you. He wanted to have children with you for himself as much as he wanted to make you a mother. Show you that this thing you always wanted, and one horror after another tricked you into thinking you either did not deserve it or could not have? He wanted to prove that this was still something you both could have, but now together. And marrying you? Well, the child according to you should still be named Snow, but they wouldn’t be bastards, and they wouldn’t be raised and known as such, and that was just enough for Jon to want to start giving you children now, and it was only a matter of time.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Robb:

Mornings are routine and not of much variety out at war. You’d both wake up, dress quickly in case something pressing should come up requiring his or both your attentions. You both would eat, and then truly, that tent is empty until nightfall. Mornings are not interesting in the sense of, your days are filled with duties and war councils. There isn’t time to spend on routines. Not out here.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

They were mostly uneventful from his early days to now. He slept alone, he got mostly ready alone and the maids would come in only once he was mostly ready for the day, wanting to have some peace to himself when he first woke up. He still does that now, only at Castle Black which means Jon had even less of a reason to dilly dally in bed. He had duties to attend to, and his father didn’t raise him to laze around.

Jon Post Resurrection:

Mornings aren’t as plentiful as he’d like now that he is King. He awakes before you most days, dresses, gets some smaller work done and by the time you arise? Jon will help you dress gently, stand you in front of the small vanity to sit as he does your hair for you in the styles you both preferred on you and he was an expert in. Stopping by the dining hall to eat briefly before his day started, and Jon was King, so he had duties to attend to. And that routine scarcely ever changed.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Robb:

They would go one of two ways. Some nights, Robb felt the burden of this war bearing down on his shoulders. He’d be hunched over his desk in his tent writing and reading and planning and plotting. You’d be laying in bed trying to entice him to come sleep, but those nights it was impossible. He had too much to do and too much on his mind. Night would come and go and by the time he would consider sleeping it was so early to morning that it would be a waste. Those nights were not fun, they were the roughest on him and Robb tried to lessen how often he’d stay up so preoccupied with this war. He also simply put, didn’t like how much it kept him from enjoying you.

The rest of the nights? There also was a routine, but slower. It would start with undressing the other down to each of your softer night clothes. Having a meal together, and on a good night? A bath would be drawn which you both would take turns washing the other. Some nights you’d both stay there for a while, enjoying the others company. Other times you’d both get out and Robb would enjoy you in other ways. If you did not fall right asleep, thats when you both would find ways to preoccupy the other until you both got tired enough to sleep. Those nights were far more often then the previous kinds, and Robb was trying to work on them happening more often then not.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

Nights were the same as his mornings. Routine, routine, routine. Only as a boy, Jon would drift asleep trying to come to terms with how in love with his best friend he was. That transitioned to being with you and resenting he couldn’t fall asleep beside you, to being at the Wall, and clinging to any memory of your sounds, looks, or touch to create a phantom of you in his mind to fall asleep to.

Jon Post Resurrection:

Nights were sort of the same as his mornings, but slower. Jon could take every task left and slow it right down, take his time to enjoy the quiet, the peace, and you. Undress you as he did the morning, you both taking your time with one another in a bath. He would sit at his desk and get work done while now you were there either helping for doing your own tasks which calmed him, giving him peace of mind that he always knew where you were. And many if not all nights would end with him in some way, taking you to bed. But that was another discussion entirely.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Robb:

Robb is lucky for how long he’s known you. At this point, there was very little for him to find out about you or you about him. Fifteen years of friendship before marrying you left little up to the imagination. That being said, marriage did mean there were some new things to learn about each other. More gentle and intimate details and Robb was perfectly content letting that all sit out in the open. What he liked, what he was like, what he wanted, none of which he’d leave your many times confused little head to figure out on your own.

Robb knew you had things he still didn’t know about, but you were always more reserved. More quiet about yourself, much like the way Jon could be which clearly was why you both were such good friends. But because Jon was like that, it meant Robb could handle that with you. You didn’t keep things to yourself to be malicious, sometimes he knew you would simply not know how to bring it up. Robb would put it together some times, and others not so much. But he was fine that you were slower to open up completely, because you accepted how open he was. Together it was as if you both completed the other.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

Taking his time with you was important. He could always tell you were shy and timid, and needed to get used to even having friends the way Jon was offering. If he bombarded you with details about himself, there was no telling if that may simply scare you off. You were slow to open up, and Jon felt it fair to match that energy. Of course, he was keeping one big, fat secret that he was in love with you. Never telling you that he was so in love that as a boy, he would daydream about the ways he could convince his father to find a way to let him marry you. He never revealed those and never would, even now. Those were simply a little too embarrassing to admit.

It got easier when you both were older, and used to being together. Those quiet nights up far too late for your own good, talking and joking about anything you both could think of. You and Jon learned little details then which he treasured forever, and he knew you took to heart. Those moments, Jon opened up more then he had with anyone else. In truth, if he casted aside any of the physicality of him romancing you, it was those small little moments before his fire in his bedchambers that he treasured the most. Two quiet, reserved people opening up because it was just so natural with the other.

Jon Post Resurrection:

There was very little Jon had to hide from you now. There was a bond there, something deeper then love or friendship that tied him to you and you to him. Jon didn’t even need to be able to read you so well to understand what was going on inside your mind, and even more literally, your dreams. There was something tethering you both to one another and it made keeping secrets something near impossible now.

Even if he had secrets to keep that mattered, Jon did not feel compelled to keep them to himself. He wanted to tell you, he knew how you would react and why your reaction mattered. That was really all there was. That was it. Jon was open with you as could be, and implored you to feel safe and understanding that you could do the same, because that connection, that bond, that love between you both was now so strong that not being open was barley an option anymore.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Robb:

It was not that he was an impatient man, it was that the manner which Robb displayed his discontent with things might come off as impatient to the untrained eye. His men saw most of this side. His tone and demeanour darkening, and even though he would normally use slow and clear words it was laced with a bitter poison that would burn your skin were they to be directed to you. It was how he learned to establish his authority amongst so many lords which were older and more experienced then him. They perceived it as a lack of patience rather then them being put in their place. He never had to be angry when doing it, when Robb yelled in anger, that was when the men knew they had screwed up monumentally.

But with you? Robb couldn’t be more patient if he tried. He didn’t care about rushing you. Sometimes of course he’d persuade you into things, his patience almost being used as a seduction tool against you, but that was only in the bedroom. In your lives together, Robb would always allow you to take your time. He never had any reason to rush you. After all, you’d never get short with him, so why would be get angry with you.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

That door could swing open in either direction. Usually, Jon was very patient. He wasn’t losing his temper and would keep his cool. Or at least, thats what he was like now. It took a lot of time to develop that skill. Jon knew he had a short temper, and it took years to reign that in. He never let it out on someone who didn’t deserve it, sometimes he was just angry and impatient when talking to someone but it was not personal to them. But with someone he cares about? Jon would get angry and impatient, but usually on their behalf. Once you were someone Jon cared about, it was a lot harder then anyone thought to make him mad at you.

Jon Post Resurrection:

Jon was a strange combination. He could both be a very patient man, but also a very quick tempered one. He could jump to anger and yet use all of the time in the world to stew on that anger. Death and returning to life had not changed that about himself. He seldom found patience for pomp or elongated formal routines. He wanted to get to the point to get to what mattered.

It was you he was patient with, caring for your much more soft and sensitive mind then the one he left you with. Only once had he taken his anger out on you, and Jon had and would continue to go to the ends of the world and back to prove he’d never do it again. It was an awful truth he learned, and took it out on the only person near, the one who told him that truth, you. He would never do it again, and you fully trusted in that.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Robb:

Raised as the heir to Winterfell, it is safe to say that if Robb was not born with a good memory, he was raised to gain one. Afterall he had places and lords and knights and servants and people and towns to oversee. Names of the families families and beyond. He had a lot of information rolling around in his head, but he was at this point well organized about keeping them in order. He could compartmentalize things and keep himself from losing his mind.

With you though? He’s known you since he was ten years old. It would have to be a failure of grand proportions for Robb to not know every little detail about you. Some he didn’t even realize he remembered years later until it came up in passing. But he’d known you for so long that you were hardly a stranger. What he learned since being married? Well, those were new details to remember which made them even less likely to be forgotten. Learning things about you after thinking he’d known all there was, was exciting. Seeing you in a new light and he eagerly treasured everything he’d learn about you.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

Truly, what even is there to say? He knew everything about you, because he watched you all the time. You haunted him, he saw you in everything and everyone and it was only because he knew so much about you, that he could connect the smallest of dots and lead it back to you. Jon wanted to know everything there was to know about you, and he had the memory to ensure it would never go away. He feared using the word obsessed, but, if he were to be brutally honest with himself, yes, he knew everything about you, because his love for you always bordered an obsession, which included knowing everything there was to know about the pretty Baratheon girl in his home.

Jon Post Resurrection:

There is little to even elaborate on. Jon remembered everything and anything about you when you were just a pretty Baratheon princess he was in love with. Now you were his wife, and you both were linked by blood in a very dark and unchanging magic sort of manner. If he knew everything there was to know about you before, Jon knew even more now and he doubted that even somehow losing all of his memory in some horrid accident would truly rid him of the knowledge he learned and held about you. Because everything he knew about you was in his heart, not his mind.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Robb:

There was only one answer. Everything had fallen apart. Theon had long since betrayed them, his mother betrayed him by freeing the Kingslayer, his plan to capture and kill the Mountain had somehow been ruined and his plans to second handedly assist Stannis Baratheon sailing on Kings Landing by keeping the Lannister forces distracted had thusly fallen out too. News came that his grandfather, Lord Hoster Tully had finally passed after being ill for many years at the same time news that Winterfell had been burned down and Bran and Rickon were likely dead added on top.

Robb had gone the entire day trying to keep himself together. Finally in the room he was to use as his bedchambers for the next few nights, he sat on the edge of it and allowed the emotions to flow. He hadn’t cried the way he did when learning of his father, this was more of a defeated cry. Tears fell from his eyes without much fuss as he hid his head in his hands. Then you had walked in.

Nervous and wide eyed, you went to him to soothe his pain right away. Robb was receptive to it, as he declared that you only had each other anymore. But you had other ideas. Opening up his palm you dragged it under your clothes to rest upon your stomach and gently stated, “You have us.” Us, him, you, and a baby in your belly. It was an instant change the moment he put it together. Robb had many happy memories of you both, but nothing beat learning in the darkest of moments, that you both were to have a child together. It would always be a memory Robb would treasure until the end of his days.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

That would be the night he kissed you. A game of hunt, you, Robb, and Jon would play it for fun out in the wolfswood at children, but now older with Theon it was more of a challenge. You and Theon were quick and good at hiding, and Robb and Jon knew the wolfswood like the back of their hand. They’d hunt you both, and were one or both of you to not get caught by the middle of the night, you’d win.

It had begun pouring rain as the sky turned dark, Theon had been found. You hadn’t. Robb tried to get you to give up, but you likely thought it was a trick. Jon stayed behind to find you, perhaps, with intentions he wasn’t entirely sure he had yet. By the time he caught you, he could tell the air had shifted. He could tell you felt a charge and that something was going on. You tried to run, but he panicked. If you left now, Jon may never find the courage ever again and he couldn’t waste this single opportunity. So he made you stop, turned you to press your back against a tree and with only a few short and painfully tense seconds passing, Jon made his choice and kissed you.

Many things that happened in the years since that moment, but that one? Jon knew that memory would stay with him forever. The kiss he was terrified to give you, but opened the gates to a mutual love that he’d keep close to his heart until the day he died, and even then, not even death could pry that memory away from him.

Jon Post Resurrection:

There were a few which stood out. Guilty, Jon knew many of which were filthy. That night on Bear Island when he finally managed to get you to open up to him, feel comfortable around him the way he knew you were craving but felt guilty about. That first night when you brought him back, how chaotic his mind was while trapped with Ghosts, both their consciousnesses blending together in such a strange way both he and his direwolf feared would be forever. Then returning and knowing somehow it was by your hands? Seeing you was one thing, wide eyed and fearful not knowing it was not danger you were walking in on, but something you both thought at one point you’d lost. He dared not retread the manner which he took you multiple times, lest his mind dive far too deep in a perverse thought he could not escape.

But there was one innocent one, one he never thought he’d have because one day he saw you on the opposite end of such a sight years earlier. He watched you marry Robb under the Winterfell Weirwood in the summer air surrounded by strangers. But, then it was Jons turn. He was the one who married you under the Winterfell Weirwood in the perfect snowy winter surrounded only by people whom cared about you both, and you both to them. How quiet it was, and this time how that quiet was not filled with his mind in agony, but peace. Feeling your gloved hand under his as you both knelt before the heart tree to prey, and how he lost a little of his reserved sensibilities and kissed you. Perhaps a little too passionately. Twice. But it was a romantic daydream he thought of many times as a young lad and long since given up having with you, and yet here you both were. Choosing it of your own volition. Not even the night you shared together in his bed could top the ceremony itself, not a single thing.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Robb:

As King in the North, there is no lacking of protection at his own back. Everywhere he went, men and guards followed especially here in the south at war. He was not particularly thoughtful of his protection, because he had what he could have and made it work as best he could for a man who’d ride into battle at his mens sides.

As for you? He was very protective. Losing you would be devastating. With no room for question, Greywind would follow you no matter what. The direwolf was fine with it, feeling both antsy at war and not in battle, and Robbs love for you extended to his wolf. Guards followed you as well when necessary, but really? Keeping you right at his side was Robbs protection. He knew where you were and what you were doing and how safe you were that way. If he could see you, feel you, hear you? His mind was at ease. He could rest well knowing you were safe at his side. Perhaps he should award you with more freedom sometimes, but as long as you didn’t truly complain, Robb would continue to let his protectiveness be overbearing.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

He’s always been protective. When he was young, Jon would stand over you almost like a guard dog. Or a guard wolf really. You were small and innocent and adorable and he felt a deep and burning need in his blood to keep you safe. He always could be found watching over you if time permitted, and he knew spending time with you was the best way to protect you.

That didn’t change the older he got, and in truth, it didn’t change at all. Jon did the same things, only now you knew why he was so protective, and you still didn’t protest. A bit of pride could fill Jons chest, that you even now, were still appreciative that he would always watch over you.

Jon Post Resurrection:

Jon? Protective? What ever could you mean? If anything were to happen to you, Jon would station every single guard in as many locations as he could and make sure Theon ensured you had two guards following you at all times at the least. He never has spoken it to you, but he and Theon have indeed had discussions about protocol in regards to your safety as both are aware that you sometimes let your own self preservation fall lax in favour of doing things for other people. He is just waiting for the day someone tries to go too far with you in any way to let it all out, and everyone including you will see how protective their new King in the North will become about his wife.

But personally? Jon watches you like a hawk. His dark eyes always seeing, his keen ears always hearing, and his senses merely knowing where you are in relation to him in the room. He has Ghost follow you often, and many times, not that he would tell you, has gone into Ghosts mind to watch over you himself during the middle of the day if he can spare the time. He is possessive and obsessive about keeping you safe, and most would and will see it as overprotective and overbearing, but Jon can genuinely do no less when it comes to you. Without you, he would he a shadow of his former shadow.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Robb:

He’s at war, he does what he can. Meals are not extravagant. There’s no where he can take you. There isn’t much of anything for special days or name days that you could give each other. At any time, you would have to pack up and leave or lose something charging into battle. What you offered each other out here was emotions, was support and love. Not tangible gifts. Were Robb able to take you back to Winterfell where you both belonged? Of course he would spoil you endlessly, but he had to keep focused. Not spend too much time in the fantasy that was nowhere close just yet.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

He couldn’t do much. He had to be careful. Anything too elaborate could get him caught, and you caught, and it would all be over. There were times Jon would plan out days to spend with you out in the wolfswood, but that wasn’t anything special. That was necessary, planning out how to spend as much close time with you in private as possible, where, and when would be too long that it would be suspicious. You both tried, gifting each other small things that would mean a lot to the other, but Jon was unable to give you what you deserved. He couldn’t afford too, not if he didn’t want to get caught.

Jon Post Resurrection:

Jon does not have much in the way of opportunity to do things for you in a traditional sense. What anniversary would you two celebrate? Thats far too complicated and too much pressure for both of you, his duties and yours leave the day to day very busy and no time for anything such as dates or courtship. Neither of you have been very good at giving each other proper gifts for celebrations or name days nor does Jon want to put pressure on you by doing more, because he knows it would wrongly pressure you into thinking he expects you to do more when he doesn’t want that.

What Jon does do, is make up for it in a slightly insecure way. You many times now lost all of your possessions. Most of what you owned had been in Kings Landing, which were lost to you the moment Ser Barristan Selmy smuggled you through the tunnels underneath the Red Keep and out of the city. Then anything you and Robb acquired when at war were lost when the Boltons and the Freys betrayed and butchered you both. Anything you owned when a prisoner of the Boltons were not yours and you would rather burn everything they made you own or wear then keep it for keeps sake. You had arrived at Castle Black in clothes they gave you, and when Jon had what little of clothes in the Nights Watch he could have made tailored to you, you wore those and left the rest behind until Maege and Alysane Mormont gifted you more proper clothes on Bear Island. Everything you owned after that? Was because of Jon.

Was it insecure? That he was trying to make up for being a bastard, by giving you everything he could? Possibly, but he did it anyways under the guise of simply giving you your belongings back. He had dresses made for you all the time, had books found or sent to Winterfell to fill the little bookshelf he had made for you in the bedchambers because he knows you miss all of the unique collections you had in Kings Landing. Jon spoiled you in those sorts of gifts, but truly, he didn’t quite know how to stop.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Robb:

His jealousy was his worst habit. You didn’t seem to mind it, but Robb knew it could be a problem in his own relationship to other men. He didn’t often let you see the effects of his jealousy, but his men did and sometimes that could only add on top of his jealousy because now you were further the centre of attention. Which only encouraged his jealousy further.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

Truth be told, Jons worst habit was you. Keeping you a secret, not giving you the romance and care you so publicly deserved. Not courting you the way a lord would or should, but in the shadows were he ruined things about your purity because he couldn��t stop himself. He never went too far, but it didn’t mean Jon was not aware that he was not treating you with the proper respect. He was not treating you the way a royal girl deserved. He knew he was reckless by being with you, but he couldn’t stop. It was Jons worst habit, but he couldn’t stop.

Jon Post Resurrection:

He is possessive, obsessive, and near addicted to you. Jon knows it is a problem, you are so much of his life. Maester Wolkan put it perfectly once. Since he was brought back from death, Jon has genuinely never known a life you were not in. You brought him back and have been at his side every single day since. You did not. You came back to life alone and traumatized and tormented and tortured. So he knows he is more obsessive about you then you are him to a degree that makes him feel a bit mad. He should be more reasonable about you then he often is, but he cannot help it now and it is terrible and scares him. He was once scared it would all frighten you off, but now hes more aware of how it looks to others. The North has more or less gotten used to it, but how will he appear to any outsiders? It was hard to say and Jon was certainly not looking forward to finding out.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Robb:

Not in an extreme sense was he overly concerned with his looks. Obviously, Robb had eyes. He knew he was handsome, and he knew women thought he was handsome. Bright and bold blue eyes, brown and reddish rich curls, and years of training had sculpted him with muscle. He took a certain pride in his appearance but he was not vain about it. His life and person was not defined by how he looked, it simply encouraged a bit of confidence more then before.

The only time he truly realized how much he cared about how he looked, was when you were to arrive in Winterfell with the Kings company. You knew what he looked like, it wouldn’t come as a shock but it really felt as if there was a pressure to reassure you that you should be happy with all aspects of marrying him. He wanted you to be attracted to him, but really, it did not take much to put together that you were. How quickly your mind was getting used to the idea of being with him and by your wedding night together? Robb knew you and he were as attracted to each other as you truly should be.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

Jon was not terribly concerned with how he looked. It was the perception of who he was as a bastard that mattered to him. Not what they thought of his looks. He looked how he looked and whatever care he put into it was nothing compared to how be obsessed with the way people perceived him. He knew you found him attractive, and that was the only validation he needed. He put in the effort of himself for you, and the rest of it was whatever it was. You were the only thing worth charming, and if you didn’t complain about how he looked, Jon would not spend his time fussing over it for your non existent sake.

Jon Post Resurrection:

Truly, you are attracted to him. Thats all that matters. He thinks little of how he looks, his shape, his scars, his hair, any of it. You like how he looks and there isn’t a single thing that would matter to Jon more then that. People can say what they want, as long as you’re happy looking at him, thats all the validation he needs that he’s doing enough to impress you as he believes a husband should.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Robb:

You were always important to Robb, but now? Now you were his whole life. He dragged you from battlefield to battlefield, fighting one side of a war to another and watching the toll it took on both of you. But, you were all each other had in the end. Your love for each other and now the child growing inside of you? What Robb would do without you? He couldn’t imagine a life beyond you.

Returning home? One day being forced to remarry and have a child that wasn’t the one he created with you? Robb didn’t want to feel whole without you, there was a comfort in being so in need of each other. Being out at war, who did he have? His brother sworn to a new life, two of his brothers first hostages and now dead, one sister missing and likely dead, and another still a hostage he won’t know if he’d ever see again. His father dead, his mother betrayed his trust, his friend betrayed his family? Robb only had you, and with how split your family was, you only had him. Robbs entire life was you, and in truth, at that point, he was okay with that.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

He could, but by necessity. Jon was going to give you up one day. He was being selfish by keeping you the way he did. He felt complete when he was with you, but how complete was he truly when he knew it would not last. He had to be his own person outside of that. He had to be complete without you, because one day you wouldn’t be there. He cheated a little, taking your heart with him to the Wall meant he never really let you go. You stayed in his memory for that entire time and perhaps yes, once could say Jon didn’t feel complete without a part of you. But he had no choice but to handle it, and when you were dead, well, that completeness was clearly important to him. Because he felt more dead inside without you in the world then ever before. He only had no idea how much that would change one fateful night.

Jon Post Resurrection:

No. All Jon knows in his soul, is that he is made for you and you him. Something stronger then love is there in his veins burning for you like he’s been strapped to a pyre only you are there with him, feeling the same. Something between you both has put you on each others path to such a powerful degree that it used to scare him. He thinks it still scares you, but that is alright. He is happy to be brave enough for both of you as long as you need him to be, because he is never going anywhere. He had to give you up once, and it lead to both of your deaths. In this new life, where you are the one to bring him back of all people? Jon will never let you go again, and he couldn’t.

Death is the only way that could tear you from Jon at this point, and even then, Jon knows he would do whatever it took to be the one to bring you back to him that time. Nothing would tear you both apart anymore, he would not be himself without you. He would walk, and talk, and fight for his people but everything that brought Jon back a man, a human, it would all be for nothing without you. Without you, he would walk this world a husk of a man that used to have a heart and soul.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Robb:

He’s never told you about when he was fourteen. He doesn’t quite recall when or why it begun, but he remembered looking at you differently. At twelve you were still short and young and innocent, but there was part of you that was mature. Your nature, your mind and truthfully, were you not so short then, you looked his age at the minimum. It was easy to fall for you in a heavy crush.

You were his first real crush that meant anything, and he had once made the mistake of telling his mother and backtracking saying not to ever bring it up. It went away on it’s own, he never would’ve gone to you about it especially when you were so innocent. But it existed, and when he was told he was to marry you, in truth? It made adjusting to it so much easier. Robb knew he was never going to have a difficulty falling for you.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

When Jon was finally considering if making love to you was something you would both be interested in, Jon had a dirty little secret. He never followed through on it, but it came into his mind. He wanted to make sure it was good for you, that it was memorable. Jon was as much a virgin as yourself, but he wanted to take care of you. You’d be a scared thing in his bed, and he needed to be confident. But, he didn’t know how. So he considered it. Only finding his way to the Winter Town brothel to ask the whores there for advice. But, the bastard son of Ned Stark being seen going into the brothel? He’d never hear the end of it, and he never would want you to think he was being unfaithful. So, he never did it, but he wanted too. Just to ask them what to do, how to make you feel good. Instead, he went into that afternoon having to trust his instincts, and perhaps, for his confidence’s sake, it was a good thing that in the end, both of you changed your minds.

Jon Post Resurrection:

It is a very small thing, but he would feel embarrassed if you knew. Jon knew you loved to read, and that you must have had such a wonderful collection in Kings Landing. When on Dragonstone, one morning Jon walked the castle alone. He came across a grand library full of books and scrolls, half of which were in a language he did not know, only assuming it must have been High Valyrian. He could imagine you in here for hours and hours looking and reading through everything you could. He had gone to Selyse, asking if there were any books he should take back with him to suprise you with. Where you were he didn’t even know, but she pulled out so many. Half all in High Valyrian but she assured Jon that these were ones you read time and time again always deeply invested, and many more in common that he could understand your appeal in them.

Even now, he still asked her for more suggestions. He’d ask any in Winterfell now who knew you as a girl what to have brought in for you to read. You never said it, but you knew it was suspicious that the little bookshelf he brought into the chambers for you was full of titles and books he never would’ve heard of or known to bring in for you. But you read them happily all the same, and that made it worth it. Afterall, Jon still had trunk loads of books which he hadn’t let you know he brought over for you yet, and slowly would build your new little personal library in Winterfell a bit at a time just because he knew seeing a new title on the shelf made you happy.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Robb:

In a partner, Robb has a few things which are important to him. Many of which tied in together. You had to be someone who respected who he was as a Northmen, respect the North itself, his family, his beliefs and causes. You should have your own opinions and feel free to say them of course, but as a partner, as a wife at his side? You needed to be on his side. Robb’s beliefs and values were of great important to him as they were for many Starks, and he needed someone who wouldn’t stand there and fight him on the basis of what he believed.

He needed to be able to make the hard choices, and not have his wife stand opposite to him and tell him he’s wrong. There are things he needs to do as a Lord and now a King, and he needs a wife who won’t disrespect the heavy burden which comes with that. He will always take care of you, but in your own way, he needs you to take care of him right back. He needs a wife who will give and take, your strengths match his weaknesses, and his strengths carry for yours. Anyone who can’t give him that, would be a wife Robb would have great difficulty in adjusting to.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

Forward, aggressive women. Truth be told, Jon never considered what kind of woman he didn’t like, until he met Ygritte. That was the harsh lesson he learned. She was everything you were not, and whatever similarities you shared were superficial. She took all of those to the extreme enough that it didn’t matter anymore. She was angry where you were sweet, she could be dense where you were incredibly smart and perceptive, she was aggressive where you were considerate, she was loud and mean where you were quiet and gentle.

He foolishly thought he could pretend to not love you anymore, just to be able to pretend to love her, but it was stupid. It got him shot full of arrows, and a deep understanding that it was pointless to ever think he would replace your love. But, it he had to pretend ever again, Jon knew it could never be a repeat of what Ygritte put him through. You never forced Jon to do anything against his will.

Jon Post Resurrection:

In truth, it had not come to pass yet. But he was waiting for the day it would and he hated that he still did not have a plan of how to handle it without issue. If Aegon Targaryen sits the Iron Throne, he would never at this point agree to his aunt, the Daenerys Targaryen to be his Queen nor did he think from what little he hear do the woman, would she want that either. But, Aegon would need someone strong at his side, stronger then most Queens in recent passed. And Jon knew who that strong Queen was.

You were married to Jon, and when you had children it would be even more difficult to make happen, but Jon had a terrible feeling that the men around Aegon were smart enough to recognize the power of combining the feuding Targaryen and Baratheon on the Iron Throne once and for all after all of the fighting and rebellion, and Aegon likely would begin to see the benefit in that union as well. He did not know what would happen when the day came that such an idea came to fruition and turned into something akin to a plan, but Jon was desperately working away in his mind at how to stop it. He was only a bastard after all, and in the eyes of many in the south, him being a bastard was an insult at your side, and someone like the true heir to Prince Rhaegar Targaryen would be a fitting suitor for you.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Robb:

Robb’s sleeping habit is that he will always sense you moving. If you try to slip from bed, he will yank you back into his chest. Even without being awake, Robb can sense where you’re going and if he can help it, will make you stay with him for as long as he can keep you. If not, Greywind has been known to wake up in his place and follow you. Robb wouldn’t call himself a needy man, but when he has you, his pretty little wife in bed, especially out in a war? He’s keeping you with him as long as possible before he needs to get up and face the day. His men and this war can wait twenty more minutes for him to get his fill of feeling your soft self pressed up against his front.

Jon Pre Resurrection:

He struggled with sleep. He always had. He’d have strange, dark, melancholic dreams that would almost plague him with a sense of doom. He slept alone his entire life, despite knowing what it felt like to have you in his arms. Sleep always came to him with difficulty, both in falling asleep and with how often he’d wake up in the middle of the night only to struggle once more to fall back asleep. He’d get up and do things to occupy his mind, he’d wander, some nights even finding himself in the training yard alone hoping to let out that energy he couldn’t do anything with otherwise. Sometimes he thought maybe he’d sleep better were you next to him, but Jon would then glance in the general direction of the corridor your own chambers were in, and told himself with anger to give that dream up. Once the dreams started at Castle Black, that sleep got no better, and it only got worse and worse until that night came where his own brothers were prepared to put him to sleep for good.

Jon Post Resurrection:

Jon hates sleeping without you in his arms. There have been very few times you have not slept in his arms since you and he reunited, but those few times drove Jon mad. He despised them, he barley slept. He would take Ghost and sit in the Godswood the way his father used to after a kill to stew in his thoughts in the eyes of the Old Gods. Only it was simply a very grumpy man who missed his wife.

When you both did sleep in the same bed, he stayed awake longer then you. Watching over you as you slept to make sure he could protect you from even your own nightmares. He never told you about how often he had nightmares of his own. Nor that he would wake up many times and rip the sheets and furs off of you to push up the thin fabric of your shift to look at the scars on your womb, and up more to see your chest breathing in your sleep. He’d feel the scars littered about his chest, then feel his beating heart over the final one and pull everything back into place, then drawing you back closer into his arms before trying to settle long enough to sleep once more.