#none of them have experienced anything quite like what i have experienced in the past couple months

[love-that-we-were-in]

pretty as a vine (sweet as a grape)

pairing: luke castellan x reader summary: luke castellan might be everyone's favorite councilor over the summer. he might be a little too sweet for you in the fall. word count: 1.7k warnings: none

authors note: thank you to @wlntrsldler for letting me steal this concept from you even if making luke a real tried and true loser was a struggle. hope y'all enjoy!!

It was rare to see Camp Half-Blood’s golden boy without his signature smile on his face; always ready to help, always ready to please. 

You’d only had a handful of conversations with Luke Castellan, passing words in the height of hectic summer heat. Most of them in the middle of the night, when all the campers should be tucked away in the cabins, but you’d take the brief moments of quiet to wander the grounds with a lit cigarette hanging off your lips. 

Luke would approach you every time, always the same way, a pink flush on his cheeks and a quiet, timid voice telling you that he had to enforce the rules, that he had to send you back to your cabin because it was past curfew.

You’d roll your eyes, lick your lips, wave the smoke obscuring your view of him away playfully and promise to head back after this one. He’d nod and walk away, and you’d pretend not to notice his silhouette hidden behind one of the trees, not quite obscured enough by the lack of lighting to go wholly unnoticed, waiting for you to make your way back to where you’re supposed to be. 

He was sweet, too sweet, sometimes. Making sure you were safe, that nothing bad would happen to you even after taking his supposed leave. It was cute, really, how he acted around you underneath the starlight, always so nervous and flustered, like he’d never seen a woman before. You supposed, confined to the parameters of camp for so many years, he really hadn’t seen many of them.

It’s something you carry with you this year, watching as summer fades into fall, how camp suddenly empties. You’re not sure what to make of it, how still everything seems now, how the usual noise dampens into almost nothing and you itch for the hurriedness of July to return. 

You’re lucky, really, to have spent so long exploring the world beyond camp, seeing what growing up had to offer as if it were normal. A lot of the kids you see now, they haven’t experienced a half of what you have, trading high school for battling dragons at someone else’s request, and it shows each year like clockwork. 

If you’re honest, hidden behind the treeline near the lake, camp makes you uneasy like this. Less busy, less extreme - walking the thin line between a place to train and a place to live - and it has you more on edge than before. It could be that you’ve grown accustomed to the bustle of the Boston streets. It might just be that Luke has been hiding just beyond view since you lit your cigarette.

“I know, I know,” you say when he finally approaches. He stumbles, familiar flush blotching the skin of his neck, climbing the tips of his ears. “Just let me finish this one.” 

He nods and you wait for him to walk away, follow his usual path back into the forest. He doesn’t, standing on the damp grass nearby without saying a word, and you look at him again. 

You’re used to seeing Luke Castellan in different forms - it’s part of how he lives. Nervous and unsure and so confident with a sword that it’s a little insane that he’s the same person during training as is standing in front of you now. 

He’s got this little dip to his shoulders, fingers tapping against his own thigh as you stare at him. His curls are slightly longer than when summer started, curling around his ears and resting just above his brows. He’s got a sweatshirt on, dark green and oversized, and his teeth sink into his bottom lip the longer you take to look away. 

“You can head back,” you say eventually, flicking ash to the ground at your feet. “I promise to be good and go straight to bed.” 

It’s not meant to be anything, merely an assurance. But there’s this way Luke reacts to it, how his fingers stop tapping in favor of clenching his first, how he breathes deeper for a few breaths, how he swallows around nothing, that ignites something under your skin. Makes you want to push that little bit further. 

“You really need to stop coming out after curfew,” he mumbles in the end, tucking his hands into the front pocket of his sweater. It’s soft and a little warm and you wonder if it’s the humidity or Luke himself that’s responsible. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“You’re sweet, Castellan,” you crush the butt of your cigarette out, brushing past him to start the trek back to your cabin. “It’s kind of adorable.” 

You hear him suck in a breath. You don’t hear his footsteps directly behind you as you walk through the foliage. You kind of wish you’d turned around to see the blush rise on his cheeks. 

Maybe you will next time.

*

Next time doesn’t come for weeks. It gives you space to observe Luke now, when he’s being pulled in fewer directions, when there’s lower expectations. You learn that neither of those things exist where Luke is concerned; that he has this inability to not be helpful, to not put himself forward when no one else will. He somehow takes up more responsibilities as fall gets underway, smiling wide when you know you’d be stretched thin. 

It’s admirable, to a point, and you want to know how he does it.

A few years ago, you convinced yourself Luke was only on when the sun shone brightest. Watching him demonstrate a throw to a young Athena kid, you think he might be the sun itself. 

“Nice arm,” is what you greet him with when the little girl runs off, ball in hand. He pauses his hands where they rest on the fabric of his pants, still slightly bent at the knees from helping and lips parted as he glances up at you. “She seemed happy.” 

“She just needed some help with the technique.”

He shrugs and stands to actually face you. 

Mid-afternoon at camp has never really sat well with you. Always slower, sun burning and campers left to fill their own time before dinner. You’ve never really known what to do with it; Luke squints at the grounds before you as if he’s searching for who needs him next.

“Do you ever take a break?” Is what you say when the silence drags on for too long. 

Luke blinks, lips parting. A group of Hephaestus kids laugh from down by the lake. You wait. 

“I go to bed at midnight.”

“And what time do you wake up?” You kick at the grass below your feet, taking in how Luke stumbles for an answer, brown eyes darting each way as if it’ll fall from the sky. 

“The apollo kids really love watching the sunrise,” he chokes out in the end, digging his hands into his pockets. You wonder if he thinks it makes his nerves less obvious. “It’s a really nice sunrise.” 

“Come watch it with me tomorrow.”

You say it partly for the reaction itself. That same quick breath Luke takes each time you say something that shocks him, the red tint to his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the harsh movement of his adams’ apple. You kind of also really want to see how Luke Castellan changes between day and night - if it’s a version of him you just haven’t read yet. 

You don’t mention that you’ll have to force yourself out of bed, unused to early rising. 

He nods, three quick nods like he thinks you’ll take it back if he’s not enthusiastic enough. 

You smile then. “I’ll see you later, Luke.”

*

He meets you where he usually does, further north than anyone tends to go at any hour, let alone this early. There’s less hesitation to his steps than a few nights ago, your invitation dangling between you both something like a promise. 

“I’m not gonna bite,” you say when he stops just short of the rock you’ve claimed. You glance over at where he’s just feet away, bright orange camp tee peeking out from his grey hoodie. “It’s too early for that.”

“Oh.” 

There’s some shuffling before Luke is perching himself on the stone next to you. He’s close enough to touch from here, the makeshift seat just barely big enough for two people to share, and you take in how he tucks his hands into his pockets, makes himself take up as little room as possible. 

Outside of his swordsmanship, you’ve never seen Luke take up much space at all.

“This is nice,” he says eventually, the sun starting to peer over the lake. 

There’s something almost beautiful about what the sunrise does for him, you realise. Neither of you have moved, Luke’s gaze still locked on the horizon, but you’ve transferred your attention to him. You’ve seen the lake enough times. You’ve never seen Luke Castellan’s chest rising and falling with each steady breath, or the way his eyes turn a little gold when the sun hits them just right. How he relaxes in the autumn chill.

“You’re really pretty, Luke.”

It slips past your lips before it fully forms in your mind. His head snaps to the side, cheeks flushing and lips parted. You hadn’t meant to say it, too caught up in the slow start to the morning, but it’s out there and you don’t want to take it back.

“Such a pretty boy,” you mutter, shaking your head. 

“I-“ Luke starts, before clearing his throat. You see his hands twitch in his pockets. “What?” 

You twist on the rock underneath you, lifting your legs so they’re crossed, knees brushing the edge of Luke’s thigh. His eyes drop at the movement.

This should feel weird at camp. You’d fallen into the habit of flirting back in Boston, something to fill the gaps and score you a cigarette when you really needed help to get them. Never like this though - like the moment was delicate and its shattering was solely in your hands. 

The ability to shatter Luke Castellan, Camp Half-Blood’s golden boy, rests on your shoulders in an early sunrise.

When his breath hitches as you push yourself closer, you think you’d like to watch him shatter in the sunlight. 

Pretty doesn’t even come close when it happens.

[lolahauri]

: ̗̀➛ Sebastian: Smut Alphabet 🔞

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Considering he’s the sub/bottom, you’ll probably being doing more of the aftercare.

He does love to hold you till you fall asleep though. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Besides your hips/waist (fluff alphabet), i think he’d be a tits guy.

Big or small, he loves watching them bounce when your riding him. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Loves cumming on your stomach or inside you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Lowkey would share you with Sam if you wanted. 

He’s kind of a cuck.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

None. You were his first, that’s part of the reason he’s so needy and dtf, he just can’t believe someone as hot as you really wants to fuck him. 

(Plus all those years of pent up sexual frustration)

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl!

He’s obsessed with you dominating him and taking control.

Mating press.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very serious, you won’t ever catch him making a joke.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Darker than his hair and straight.

Keeps it nicely trimmed for you.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Pretty intimate. I wouldn’t say he’s romantic though.

But he’ll definitely be telling you how good your making him feel, how beautiful you are, feeling up your whole body and worshipping it. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When he was single: daily. Either watching porn, or thinking about you.

Now: only when you aren’t in the mood (or if you wanna watch him)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding, mommy/daddy, femdom, edging, orgasm control, praise, dirty talk, hair pulling, biting, mutual masturbation/watching each other masturbate, dry humping, oral fixation.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your bed or the couch. 

When he was living with his parents: his desk or bed.

Imagine sucking him off or cockwarming him while he’s working. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anything about you, really.

He’s pretty easy to arouse. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Degrading/verbal humiliation.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Equally loves both.

Cumming down your throat is amazing, but he also loves to serve you and make you feel good.

Honestly once he starts going down on you, he won't stop until you tell him to. He loves it so much.

A lot of times he'll get so horny from it that he'll grind on the bed until he cums.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s a needy little bitch, so fast and hard. 

He fucks like a rabbit in heat. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves them, he’d have one anytime you want.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Mostly down to experiment, i don’t think he’s into anything extreme or really painful though.

He’d be down for some mild CBT maybe.

Risk wise, he’d def fuck you in the bathhouse locker room. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can last quite a while if he’s being edged.

Otherwise he cums a little quick. 

But it’s kind of adorable, you just feel so good and look so hot that he can’t help but cum in just a few minutes.

But to make up for his quick finish, he can go multiple rounds.

Would absolutely overstimulate himself until he’s crying if it means he gets to stay inside you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own any, but if you had some he’d absolutely use them. (on you or him)

Like… 

Vibrators, cock rings, fleshlights, etc... 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He can’t tease, he sucks at it.

But man he loves it when you do it. 

Moving past him and “accidently” grinding your ass on his crotch >>

Doing little things throughout the day to turn him on, just to make him wait till that night to get off. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

So loud and vocal.

Lots of whines, whimpers, and moans. 

Probably a lot of begging too <3

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Prefers hentai over "real" porn.

Imagine jerking him off while he’s watching hentai!?

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

About 6.5 inches and average girth, maybe leaning to the thicker side.

A little veiny and curved upwards.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Semi-high, he’d love to fuck at least once a day, even if it’s just a quickie.

But he’ll happily accommodate to your sex drive, whether it’s lower or higher.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He waits until your ready for bed.

Holds you like a teddy bear as you two fall asleep.

[icyminghao]

look at me

pairing: jeonghan x gn!reader genre: fluff, some angst(?), college!au warning(s): none word count: 1.2k

summary: you’ve been noticing that jeonghan never fails to maintain eye contact with everyone he converses with. everyone but you, that is.

In your past year of interacting with and being around a certain Yoon Jeonghan from Mass Communications, you’ve noticed that he loves eye contact.

He maintains intense eye contact in every conversation, one that would definitely render you speechless had you been the receiver of his undivided attention.

Which is why this whole… thing has increasingly become evidence of Yoon Jeonghan’s possible dislike towards you.

From what you’ve noticed, Jeonghan holds eye contact with everyone he’s speaking with, but not you.

You’ve tried asking his best friend, Jisoo, if he’d experienced something similar and whether it was normal, to which he’d just let out an awkward laugh and told you to “Go ask him yourself”, much to your dismay.

But then again, you’re probably overthinking. Right?

“What are you thinking about?”

As if on cue, Wonwoo shows up at just the right time to ground you before you start spiraling down a rabbit hole of self-doubt.

“You know what I’m thinking about,” you sigh, sending Wonwoo a tight-lipped smile.

“Jeonghan again, huh?” Wonwoo chuckles, eyes trailing after the man of the hour from across the bar, having the time of his life with his two best friends in tow. Beside you, Soonyoung nearly spits out his drink at whatever had just come out of Wonwoo’s mouth.

“Yoon Jeonghan? y/n, you like—”

“Soonie, no!” you lightly hit Soonyoung on his forearm, and he dramatically winces in pain like you’d just delivered a killing blow to his arm, “I just… think he doesn’t like me.”

“What? Why? He’s—”

“It’s stupid,” you cut Soonyoung off before he can complete his sentence. Soonyoung simply stares at you, and you sigh.

“Well, um, you know how he always maintains eye contact with whoever he’s speaking?” Soonyoung raises an inquisitive eyebrow, but nods anyway, prompting you to continue, “I’ve been realising recently that he just doesn’t seem to want to look at me every time we talk.”

An eerie silence engulfs the three of you, and you can almost hear the gears turning in Soonyoung’s head, making you all the more insecure.

“Let me get this straight,” Soonyoung speaks up after what feels like a long while, holding back laughter, “You think that loverboy over there doesn’t like you because he refuses to make eye contact with you?”

“I told you it was stupid!” you groan, resting your head on your hands, “Wonwoo, help me here!”

“Well, it is pretty stupid,” Wonwoo shrugs, patting your back in an attempt to comfort you.

“He doesn’t hate you, y/n,” Soonyoung pipes up, practically exploding from where he’s seated. “It’s quite the opposite, really-”

“What’s quite the opposite?” you remove your head from your hands to be greeted with the sight of Seungcheol coming up to stand in front of the three of you, Jeonghan and Jisoo in tow.

“Hyung! My man,” Soonyoung raises his voice in excitement, and you wince a little at the sheer volume as they both greet each other with a hug.

As usual, Jeonghan’s eyes are trained on anything but you, and you can’t help but notice that he’s being a little more fidgety than usual, bouncing on the balls of his feet and playing with his fingers all while Seungcheol and Soonyoung are quite literally acting like nobody else is around them watching their interaction.

“Anyway, we’re here because Jeonghan… has something to say to y/n,” Seungcheol turns to us and explains with a teasing lilt in his voice, and Jeonghan’s cheeks darken ever so slightly under the dim lighting of the club.

“He does? That’s literally such a coincidence, we were just talk—”

“Let’s go, Soonyoung, I just saw Jihoon over there,” Wonwoo cups a hand over Soonyoung’s mouth before he can complete his sentence, practically dragging him away from the conversation.

Seungcheol and Jisoo, too, bid their awkward goodbyes, each lightly punching Jeonghan on his shoulder before leaving the two of you behind. Alone.

For awhile, the two of you simply stand there in silence, and you can only hope and pray for the ground to swallow you whole.

“Um—”

“I have nothing to say to you.” Jeonghan cuts you off as you speak, and your eyes widen a little at his cold tone.

“Oh, I—” you shrink into yourself, willing yourself to stay calm.

“No! Wait, I meant—” Jeonghan leans forward, taking a deep breath, “Seungcheol and Jisoo put me up for this for no reason.”

“So it’s a joke?” you scoff, raising an incredulous eyebrow at Jeonghan as the embers of rage grow inside of you.

“No! I—” Jeonghan’s eyes widen, immediately shaking his head to refute before you cut him off.

“Do you hate me, Jeonghan?”

“What? No, I- I don’t hate you, y/n,” Jeonghan runs a hand through his hair, frustrated, “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know, you refuse to look at me every time we talk, and now you’re- you’re doing this and making me confused and- I don’t know what to think, Jeonghan.” you bite back, growing more and more annoyed by the second

“Look, I-” Jeonghan pauses, seemingly trying to gather the right words, “I don’t hate you, y/n. I could never.”

You open your mouth to reply, but Jeonghan holds a hand up, continuing, “I’m just— I usually know what to do, okay? Usually, it’d be the other way around, and you’d be the one as flustered as I am right now, but you’re- you’re different. I’ve… had a crush on you ever since we met through Wonwoo and I just… couldn’t hold a conversation with you long enough without chickening out and just ended up trying as much as possible not to interact with or look at you so I don’t make a fool of myself and I guess… you saw it as me hating you and no, that’s not true, it’s far from it even, I—”

Jeonghan is cut off as you lean forward to press the tiniest of kisses on his lips to shut him up, and his eyes widen in response.

“I like you too, Jeonghan,” you flash him the softest of smiles, and he just looks right back at you blankly, still trying to process what had just happened, much to your endearment.

“You… do?” you nod. “But… I was so horrible to you.”

“You didn’t mean it, did you?” you reply, and Jeonghan shakes his head immediately. “I didn’t, but—”

“Well, then, you could make up for it by taking me on a date,” you cut him off, surprising both him and yourself at your boldness. Jeonghan flashes the cutest shade of red, before nodding determinedly.

“We should get back to the boys,” wrapping your arms around Jeonghan, you start leading him towards where the boys have gathered from across the club, filled with newfound hope for your blossoming relationship with Jeonghan, “They haven’t stopped looking at us since they left.”

BONUS:

“And then he told me to— Hannie, why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Jeonghan simply chuckles from beside you as you pause your rambling, furrowing your brows at him.

“You’re staring. What happened to refusing to look at me, hm?” you lean towards him, taunting.

“Well, that made you think I hated you, so I’ve gotta ramp up the eye contact to make sure you know how much I love you, babe.” Jeonghan leans forward too, resting his forehead on yours.

“You’re so cheesy,” you lightly punch his chest, giggling.

“Only for you, babe.”

a/n: hi i’m back! i hope this was okay, i struggled with jeonghan’s characterisation but i thought a flustered him would be cute ><

taglist: @xomingyu @pepperonidk @belladaises @tastymintchocolate @dahliatopia @kwantaro @chanceonceli

masterlist

[thecheshirerat]

On TAZ-

Wow that sounds like I’m about to summarize some sort of discourse but I promise I’m not. I guess I’ll say that I really like this show and I will keep listening even if my worst fears come to pass, so keep that in mind!

For reference, I started listening near the end of Amnesty.

I’ve noticed, with the past few arcs- really since Ethersea- the narratives have just… not been fulfilling their promises, so to speak. They’ve been placing a lot of guns that don’t go off. What I mean by that is, the characters are great. Excellent, really. Lady Godwin? HELL YES. Emerich Dreadway? Fuck yeah! And so on! And the settings and premises have been epic- the goofiness and also horrifying nature of Engrave, the mad and thrilling world of Steeplechase- these things are COOL AS FUCK.

and then the actual narratives keep flopping?

And honestly, I notice it most in the endings, because you can really tell when an ending doesn’t land. You feel the sense of disappointment. But with vs. Dracula, for example, I could kinda see leading up to it that the ending couldn’t really BE anything special, because they lowkey didn’t set themselves up for it.

They spent the campaign fucking around in Engrave, finding clues and solving problems and not really experiencing any particularly meaningful character arcs or growth or, idk, forming relationships? So there wasn’t much to pay off, I’m not gonna lie!

Of course it doesn’t feel quite as dissatisfying when you’re in the thick of it, because they’re funny and the stuff is cool and- oh hey! Lady Godwin’s been turned into a werehorse against her will?? that’s got some real potential for a LOT of allegories and exploration of some fun character development! And then it’s kinda played as a joke. And then they do that again and again.

And they actually said that that was a move they made intentionally, in the TTAZZ. I’m not quoting them perfectly here, this is from memory, but I do remember them mentioning that they wanted lighthearted comedy without the burden of real life story stuff. And I get that, honestly, but… it’s not the choice I would’ve made. I do think you can keep a lighthearted tone while also, idk, forming relationships and wholesomely engaging with some amount of emotion. And sometimes going way too deep is funny as a tone shift!

But I digress. One thing that’s also popped out to me is the almost complete lack of any kind of romantic storyline or even references. This becomes obvious if you’re in a fandom because everyone is always dying to ship SOMEONE, and you can tell when people are really getting desperate. I don’t blame them for not wanting to roleplay romance with their family, and I do think stories lacking romance are COOL and SHOULD BE ENCOURAGED!

However if you can’t find ANYBODY to ship together… that may mean you just don’t have character bonds. The growing popularity of the PC polycule is interesting to me; I wonder if it’s partially because

a) none of the pcs have significant relationships outside of their party and

b) even within the party, there doesn’t seem to be much chemistry between any given pair of characters…? I hope I’m making my point well here- the PCs all seem equally close and have more or less the same relationship to all of their compatriots with little distinction, meaning, essentially, no shipping fodder that doesn’t involve just all of ‘em.

Either way, it makes me wonder if I can blame the “Graduation has too many NPCs!” critique. They really stopped giving the parties tag-along main NPCs after graduation, with the exception of maybe.. Urchin? Kodira? Shlabethany? Poppy? and even they get relatively little “screen” time. Steeplechase has great NPCs, I love them to death, but none of the PCs seem to ever have one on one conversations with NPCs or each other that do not explicitly focus on the plot. And I think that’s part of why the characters feel so underdeveloped despite having spent a lot of time with them- because in this character-driven genre, we get very little insight into their feelings or motivations or even their rudimentary backstories.

I started watching Fantasy High recently and it made me realize a couple things about TAZ.

1) Recently, TAZ has sooo few core NPCs, and it’s weird that the characters aren’t doing more one-on-one purely character based scenes. And that makes it really tough to develop them.

2) TAZ is- and I should have realized this before- one of many good dnd podcasts. They’re probably looking for a niche they can master.

And it sounds like they’re trying to get back to that old “Here there be Gerblins!” energy. They’ve referenced it so many times in recent TTAZZes- they wanted to be job-focused, allowing story stuff to happen organically, so they tried a more open world vibe with Ethersea. They wanted to be less afraid to kill stuff, so they tried playing criminals (and were still afraid to kill stuff). They wanted to be silly and light on character, as they tackled with taz vs dracula. Now they’re trying to bring in the silly cartoon vibe with Abnimals. I think they’re trying to make that family-friendly, funny and goofy show their niche. Something other actual plays can’t be better at them at.

And honestly it kinda makes me sad, that they keep trying to go back to Balance while ignoring everything they learned during it. Because I loved Dust. Because I loved Amnesty. Because I loved Ethersea. I loved these past arcs! But they keep doing their brilliant characters dirty for some reason!!! And i don’t know why!!!!

You know that meme about people who ask questions in movies and then the person responds “Have you ever been to a movie before? You watch them and the information is revealed.” There have been so many times in TAZ recently where information has Not been revealed and if they keep doing it the audience will stop bothering to suspend their disbelief, because the trust just isn’t there.

What is Montrose’s deal? What on earth was Carmine Denton’s whole thing? Tell me more about Zoox’s feelings, about Devo’s past, about Amber’s future. Show me how Lady Godwin feels about the body horror that is her life- like, seriously! WHY DID WE HAVE TO COMPLETELY DISMISS THE OPPORTUNITY TO DISCUSS GENERATIONAL TRAUMA IN MUTT’S LIFE FOR A JOKE??

Do you remember in Steeplechase where the boys were getting medical attention or something- i don’t remember, but they were all in one room and only talking about The Plot. And Poppy literally banged on the door (speaking for both Justin and me, tbh) and was like “does anyone want to share any feeeeelings??” and they were like NOPE! and they moved on!!

like. cmon. you can’t just put a character like montrose out there and then leave them severely underdeveloped to the point that what would be interesting in proper context, with audience insight, becomes confusing and chaotic.

I just wish they would take their stories as seriously as we do.

It feels to me like they don’t believe in themselves, and it makes me sad. Maybe they didn’t get the response they wanted from Ethersea and so they’ve been trying to pivot, hoping to recapture whatever it was that earned them a loyal audience.

Again, I love them. They’re so funny and I’ll keep listening until the day they stop making this show, and when it happens I’ll cry.

But i KNOW they have more in them. Remember the “we’ll grow gills” monologue from Justin in the Prologues? Remember Travis’s SOLID acting with Devo? Or his awesome choice to give Lyndon/Beef a clearly delineated work/irl identity? His excellent narration and prose? Remember when Montrose described being lonely?! Remember all those moments where Shit Got Real and you cared??? The nanofather said some dope shit! dracula and victor and sweater dracula had such a wild dynamic! Clint’s acting in Dust 2- I can’t remember the characters name right now- was ASTOUNDING, I genuinely didn’t know he had that in him and it blew me away!

I’m not referencing Balance on purpose, both because the fandom is way to hung up on it and because I want to prove that you don’t even have to look at Balance, or even Post-Balance arcs, to see this kind of good cool stuff!

GAAAAAAAGHHHH!!! I want them to have fun. But also. We’re starving out here.

[sacklerscumrag]

Sunshine (Part 1/2)

single dad!Clyde Logan x nanny!reader

1 of 2

Notes: Hi! I know I haven't written for the ADCU in some time but i have this dad!clyde brainrot and i might as well post it. part 2 is 90% done so I’ll post that sometime soon

I miss being here & I hope everyone is doing well, sending all of you lots of love & thank you for taking time out of your day to read my silly little stories, i appreciate you <3

Warnings: protective girl dad!Clyde, talk about kids, mention of abandonment issues, mother not involved (and will not appear at any point), no mention of y/n, fluff, pining, pervy thoughts from sasquatch, eventual smut in second part (tags will be added), no cliffhanger

Word Count: 7.1K

(this will go back & forth between Clyde's POV & readers POV)

The bar was filled with scattered conversations and the faint sound of jukebox music lingering in the background. It was an otherwise quiet Thursday night at Duck Tape. Clyde busied himself as usual, topping off the regulars and ensuring everyone was settled and satisfied. The calm before the storm, at least until the real crowd rushed in to watch the Friday night game. Being the only bar in a small town meant there was little else to do around here. Clyde never seemed to mind, though; catching familiar faces day in and day out was one of his favorite parts of owning Duck Tape in the first place. Regulars usually required minimal conversation, which was right up Clyde's alley. The most words anyone got out of him other than his siblings was Earl, but he didn't mind. Clyde quickly finished his last prep of the day and glanced around the bar, taking advantage of the slow pace and stepping away into the recluse of his office. He huffed as he shut the door behind him and sank into his lanky chair; a never-ending sea of papers he'd been dodging surrounded him on the worn-out wooden desk. His eyes burned, and his head ached from the tension of another long day. Taking over the bar a couple of years ago definitely tested his limits. He loved it here, but it strained the already little energy he had left to go on about his day. So much had changed in Clyde's life in the past few years alone. From becoming a father to being the new proud owner of Duck Tape due to the Heist, plus there was-. The Heist, the words halted his train of thought as memories came and went.

The biggest risk any of them had taken in their life landed all three Logans with more financial security than they knew what to do with; plus, if anything was going to convince Clyde that the Logan family curse was finally broken, it sure as hell was how swiftly they had gotten away with all of it. But none of that really mattered. Sure, it was more than nice not to think about how he would pay off the next bill or where his next meal would come from, but he couldn't help but look around and feel like something was missing. Maybe someone to share it with woulda been nice, he thought to himself. Jimmy had Sylvia, Mellie had Joe, and well, he had his Sunshine. He mentally kicked himself at the apparent self-doubt clouding his mind; Clyde had more than enough to be grateful for. But a small part of him couldn't help but yearn.

It's not like Clyde was a stranger when it came to love. Sure, it's not something he thinks he's ever experienced, but he was sure he saw it with Jimmy and Sylvia. What they had was enough to convince him there was something more out there. Clyde just wasn't entirely sure he deserved whatever that was. He would live the rest of his life longing for something he couldn't quite put his finger on, and that's just another obstacle in his life he had come to terms with.

Clyde's train of thought quickly faded when he heard the office door click open behind him, making him turn in his chair. Dark, luscious curls crawled their way onto his lap, and small arms stretched around his waist. The discomfort from a long workday quickly melted away as giggles filled his ears. Mellie trailed into the office, following a giggling Lyla, who had already captured her dad in an embrace.

Clyde took a moment to tussle Lyla's hair slightly, making her giggle even louder. The way she fit into his lap took him back to a time when she was nothing but a wailing newborn cradled in his arms while the uncertainty of being thrown into fatherhood haunted him. It wasn't like he had much of a choice. It was not like his head was in the right place either, with the too-embarassing-to-admit heartbreak, confusion, and, no doubt, fear consuming him. A one-night stand he was sure he'd never hear from again turned into a small note tied with a pink ribbon to a baby carrier on his doorstep nine months or so later. He was young, dumb, and with no time to process any of it, but before he knew it, there she was. All big brown eyes and grabby hands, looking back at him like he hung the moon, and from that moment on, Clyde knew his life would change forever.

"Hey, Sunshine." Clyde drawled, and Lyla smiled while babbling to him about her day with her favorite aunt. Mellie smiled at the sight of her eager niece, sparing no detail of their girl's day spent at the salon.

"You good if I head on out?" Mellie said as soon as Lyla let her get a word in.

"Yeah, was jus' finishin' up here n' headin' home."

"Alright. Don't stay too late now. Night, you two." Lyla wrapped herself around Mellie's legs in a tight hug before saying her goodnight and reluctantly seeing her out the door.

"Ready to go, Sunshine?" Lyla nodded towards her dad and practically sprinted toward the front door. Something told him Mellie let her niece have more sugar before bed than he would usually allow, and something else told him he would be the one to pay for it later.

------------

As the busier weeks of the year followed with football season being at its peak, Clyde had just about had it. Another night at Duck Tape dragged on, minutes feeling like hours. Clyde was nearing his limit between the higher volume of patrons than usual and being understaffed with just two servers on the floor for the third night in a row. He hadn't even realized what time it was. And it wasn't just tonight; everything was starting to blur together as of late—never-ending odd hours at the bar in between quality time playing whatever princess Lyla was currently obsessing over, all while making sure he was always home just in time to read a bedtime story and tuck her into bed. Clyde was losing it. It's not like he thought things would get easier as Lyla got older, but damn, he could use a break.

And he sure as hell wasn't comfortable leaving Lyla in any sort of childcare yet, so help came from the people he loved the most. Mellie was always around to spend time with her niece, taking Lyla to the salon whenever possible, while Jimmy and Sylvia were happy to step in when they could. Clyde knew how lucky he was, having his family rally around him and step up whenever he needed them. He never did like to impose his troubles on them, knowing they had their own lives to take care of. Always making sure he was on time to pick Lyla up straight after work and spending his days off with her, attending endless tea parties along with movie nights where every stuffed animal she could fit would join them on the couch beside them in the small trailer they shared.

Clyde found himself overwhelmed by the daily chaos more often than he'd like to admit. But the truth is, he had grown to depend on her just as much as she did on him. Her smiles brightened even his darkest days. Listening to Lyla talk about the things she loves, whispering 'I love you, and snuggling before bed every night kept him going no matter how exhausted he was. He wouldn't trade it for the world.

But late at night, when Lyla was finally asleep and the world was a little quieter, Clyde's thoughts always seemed to be a little louder. It was the only time when he didn't have to have all the answers or act like everything wasn't weighing on him as heavily as it was, where not a single person depended on or needed something from him. Nothing else to do but sink into the couch, crack his favorite beer open, and drift off to sleep, only to wake up the next day and do it all over again.

"C'mon Clyde. A couple drinks with ya favorite brother, plus ya can use the night out. Syl's got her." Jimmy insisted, breaking Clyde out of his haze. Clyde huffed; the poor guy just wanted his brother to let off some steam, and he understood that. He was thankful his brother always looked out for him in his own way, but he couldn't give in. Not again. He winced slightly at the memory of the last time he indulged in a reckless drunk night out and how it ended with Lyla on his doorstep. Not that he regrets any of it, of course. He'd do it again a million times if it meant ending up with Lyla every time. But there was no denying the exhaustion that plagued him since that day. Long days and sometimes nights at the bar, followed by a never-ending list of chores, along with a more than needy kiddo constantly yanking at his leg, awaited him at home.

" 'S alright. 'M jus' stressed, been workin' nonstop, jus' wanna get home to Sunshine." Clyde put on a strained smile as he wiped down the bar top for the night. He couldn't bring himself to justify spending any of his spare time away from his girl. Having his family watch Lyla was always more of a necessity; how could he ask more of them? Just so he could kick back a few beers and feel like shit about it tomorrow? No, thank you, Clyde thought to himself. Jimmy let up as their attention was drawn away toward the door, chiming as Mellie sauntered into Duck Tape and scurried right up to the bar beside her brother.

"Guess what?" Mellies shoots Clyde a knowing smirk while bouncing on her feet excitedly.

"What?" Clyde managed to keep his tone steady, reluctantly ready to hear whatever Mellie was plotting after having to fight Jimmy off for the last hour about him 'loosenin' up,' whatever the hell that meant.

"I found ya a babysitter for the summer. Or is a nanny that ya needed? Oh well, whatever it is, I found her." She pulls out one of the bar stools and takes a seat. Clyde sets down the rag and takes a deep breath before looking back at Mellie, silently urging her to continue. "An' before ya say anythin', she's a real close friend; met her a couple years back at the salon, and she just moved back into town; she'd be perfect for this."

"Takin care of Lyla isn't something for one of your little friends, Mel." Clyde didn't mean to sound so condescending. Especially when his little sister was only trying to make his life easier, but he couldn't help himself. With the amount of time this person would spend with his daughter, Clyde needed someone he could trust. He prided himself in always wanting what was best for his Sunshine; her care was no exception.

"C'mon Clyde. Ya need the help, and she's a good one, I swear. Great with kids, and you can trust her." He sighed. "Just meet her before you make any decisions...please?" Clyde knew there was no talking Mellie out of anything, especially when her mind was made up like this. Plus, if he was being honest with himself, he was desperate. He didn't trust many people where Lylas was concerned, and that made the picking for her nanny or even a babysitter slim to none in this small town. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed this. And if Mellie trusted her, well, that would have to be good enough for him. For now.

"Fine. I'll meet her. When were ya thinkin'?" Mellie beamed a smile at him before checking her phone as a text message came through.

"Is now a good time?" Clyde's dazed look only amused Mellie further as she turned to the front door. "There she is!" Mellie hollered toward you, waving so you'd join them.

Clyde's eyes felt like they were damn near ready to fall right out of his head. If the word 'trouble' had a picture next to it in the dictionary, he was sure it'd look a lot like you, all dolled up in jeans that looked like they'd been drawn on and worn-down cowboy boots as you confidently strutted your way toward him. All bright eyes and delicious curves taking up all of his attention and then some. Clyde's grip tightened, practically digging his fingernails painfully into his palm. He couldn't remember the last time he reacted so strongly to someone. Pretty girls strolling in and out of Duck Tape were a rarity; he never bothered to give them a second look, let alone a first one. A hazy introduction later, you extended your hand towards him, and he swore he could feel lightning crackle through his veins at the warmth of your palm, immediately kicking himself for being so affected by you so quickly. Get it together, asshole, he told himself. This was going to be a long night.

---------

Mellie embraced you warmly and dragged you toward the two men staring daggers at you from the bar. It felt odd when she texted you out of the blue to meet her and the parent of the child you might or might not be taking care of this summer at some bar, but you didn't question it. Mellie always came with surprises. You happily greeted Jimmy, recalling the second Logan and his little girl from when you visited Mel's salon while he was fixing up the place last summer. In the short time you spent in this small town, the Logans always had their own way of making you feel right at home.

"Hi." You introduced yourself to the man behind the bar top, trying not to let his stern gaze affect you. His broad shoulders and handsome face made your breath hitch from the moment you first saw him. And if he kept looking at you like he was, you weren't sure your knees wouldn't buckle on the spot.

"Clyde, this is my friend I was tellin' ya about." Mellie cautiously glared at her seemingly rigid brother before looking back at you. "This is my brother, Clyde, Lyla's dad." You offered him a warm smile and extended a hand toward him. Clyde stiffened further, eyes darting between you; his large palm engulfed yours.

"Hm. Nice to meet ya." He offered you a tight smile and briefly shook your hand, practically snatching it away. Your skin suddenly missed his warmth, but you shook away the slight disappointment at his apparent disinterest.

"Clyde, don't be rude. Sorry, he's not a real people person." Mellie scolded him and turned toward you. "So ya still interested in that babysittin' gig? Lord knows my brother here could use the help." Clyde's eyes shot up and glared at Mellie, silently wishing the ground would swallow him whole so he could be spared the embarrassment his little sister was already putting him through.

"I don't know. Is it still available?" You glanced at Clyde teasingly, hoping to ease whatever tension had manifested between the three of you in the last five minutes.

"Yes. No." Clyde scrambled to gather his thoughts before continuing. "It is I just...I'd like to see ya spend time with her first. See how ya are with her n all that.'' He sighed. This wasn't the way this was supposed to go. He was supposed to find a nanny, get through the summer, and life could go on like it had been. Instead, he felt so flustered that he couldn't even string a simple sentence together if his life depended on it.

"I can come over sometime this week to spend some time with her. If it doesn't feel like a good fit for you, you have no obligation to hire me." You made sure to sneak in that last part before he could change his mind. Clyde nodded towards you appreciatingly.

"How's tomorrow afternoon? Round 1? I can drop her off after my shift." Mellie chimed in before Clyde could stumble over any more of his words.

"Tomorrow it is, then." You nodded and received a barely there smile from the grumpy bartender. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

-----

The next day arrived much faster than Clyde realized. He typically looked forward to his mornings off, sharing a big plate of burnt bacon with Lyla while sprawling on the couch watching morning cartoons. Instead, he spent most of his morning distracted. Even when Lyla rambled about what was playing on the television, Clyde's mind wandered back to you. It's not like he'd gotten much sleep either, with the thought of seeing you again running through is mind late at night. What was supposed to be a quick shower ended with Clyde's hand gripping his cock, images of you pressed up against him, droplets of water streaming down your breasts as he drove into you and pressed his warm body on yours. It wasn't long before he felt himself spill on his hand, and harsh reality set in. Clyde hated himself over it. He was going to be your employer, for fucks sake. He'd barely met you for more than ten minutes, and already he was over here pining and touching himself like some hormone-crazed teenager with a crush. Thankfully, it wasn't long before Mellie swung by to pick Lyla up, promising her another one of their girls' days at the salon. Lyla quickly got ready, and after seeing her out the door and waving the two off, Clyde managed to peel himself off the couch and headed over to the bar.

From there, the morning dragged like no other. Clyde spent most of it sitting in his office, trying not to think about the fact that you'd walk through those doors any second. He always found it easy to throw himself into work, put everything else aside, and focus on what needed to get done. But every time he tried, there you were. There was no way he'd be able to do this. Spending more time with you? If he felt this out of control after one day, how would he be able to be any sort of normal around you all summer? He couldn't; he had to end this today. You would understand; Mellie said this job wasn't all that serious for you anyway. You could go back to wherever you came from, and he could finally get something done without thinking about how your hand felt on his last night. Or how badly he wanted to trace the soft skin on your collarbone or how your smile warmed his heart with a familiarity he somehow already craved.

Clyde didn't get too far into his bar prep when the doors to Duck Tape swung open. Lylas skipped inside, Mellie following closely behind her. She stumbled while trying to climb one of the bar stools, making Clyde exit the bar quickly and taking her in his arms.  

"Gon' hurt ya self there, Sunshine." Lyla giggled, the bar stool wobbling underneath her before Clyde set her on the ground. Just as Mellie said her goodbyes and headed out, the door opened, but this time, Clyde could've sworn he felt his heart skip a beat at the sight.

-------

Your morning had been nothing short of hectic after changing your outfit an endless amount of times. Not to mention spilling coffee on your shirt once you'd managed to settle on something. You quickly shoved that aside and mustered whatever courage you had left to head over to the bar. A short drive later, you walked into Duck Tape at precisely one o'clock to find Clyde standing beside an adorable little girl looking up at him with a guilty look on her face.

"Now I know Aunt Mellie gave ya candy at the salon; that's enough for today, sunshine." Lyla pouted slightly as you listened in. Clyde said a quick hi and crouched beside her when he noticed you standing there. Lyla wrapped herself around her dad's legs when she spotted you.

"Lyla, this is Aunt Mellie's friend. The one I told ya about." Clyde waited cautiously for his daughter's response. As you knelt on the floor in front of the pair, you were met with wild chestnut curls and doe-brown eyes on the cutest kid you've ever seen.

"Nice to meet you, Lyla." The little girl retracted shyly into her dad's embrace. Your eyes landed on the coloring book and plastic crayon box she cradled in her hands. "That's a nice princess coloring book you got there. Rapunzel is my favorite, ya know."

"Rapuzel's my favorite too." Lyla mumbled, chocolate button eyes hesitantly landing on you.

"No way! Her dress has both of my favorite colors, purple and pink."

"Those are mine too! Daddy got me a 'punzel dress, and he lets me wear it all the time when we have tea parties 'n stuff." You could've sworn Clyde's cheeks flushed slightly like the doting dad you could already see he was.

"I bet he does." You smiled over at Clyde. Thinking about this large man playing pretend princess and having tea parties with his daughter had your heart swirling with emotions you were sure shouldn't be there in the first place. You didn't know why that warmed your heart the way it did, but you brushed it off as you offered to color with her, and Lyla practically dragged you toward the back of the bar.

The next hour was spent with the both of you huddled in a corner booth while Clyde kept busy around the bar. You talked endlessly about her extensive knowledge of every single princess, colored a couple of pages, and even earned a few giggles.

Clyde wiped down the bar for what he was sure was the millionth time. There was minimal on the to-do list for today, but he would busy himself here as long as it took if it meant keeping an eye on you two. It's not like you needed it; he didn't need to be there to know you were hitting it off with Lyla. The chatter had been nonstop since you sat at the booth; you engaged seamlessly with her. Listening intently to every word while keeping her entertained. He noticed his daughter was just as entranced with you as he was. This was a good thing, wasn't it? He had to admit he miscalculated your ability in all of this when you first met. Clyde felt terrible about how closed off he'd been last night. Here you were, all bright-eyed and ready to help, and there he was, the usual grey cloud raining on everybody's parade the first chance he got. At least, that's how he assumed everyone saw him.

Clyde was refilling some bottles from the bar when Jimmy called, letting him know he was outside. He signaled over to Lyla, who was beyond excited to spend the rest of her day with her uncle and cousin Sadie. You helped her gather her things before Jimmy took Lyla in his arms. One "Bye, Daddy!" and a wave from Clyde later, and it was just the two of you in the ample bar space.

"So how'd I do, bossman?" you asked as Clyde stepped out from behind the bar. His large frame coming into full view was enough to make a girl swoon on the spot. You attempted to reign in whatever self-control you could gather, well enough to take a step toward him without feeling like a giddy schoolgirl. Clyde remained silent for a moment before you felt the need to speak.

"Look, I know it must be hard to just trust a stranger with all this. And I know I'm not the most qualified person out there. But I'm a hard worker and punctual; playing princesses and tea parties happens to be my specialty. Plus, I can make anything into a game." You could've sworn you saw a hint of a smirk on Clyde's handsome face.

"She seems to like you." Warmth blossomed in your chest at the compliment. Lyla was a smart kid and funny, too. You knew it would be hard not to fall in love with the little rascal from the moment you met.

"Well, I like her too, so that's a plus." Clyde felt his entire body tense up at your newfound proximity. From here, he could see the flush of your lips and the captivating color in your eyes, like two pools he would happily drown in. Your warm smile drew him in until he found himself needing to be closer to you than what was deemed appropriate. And to hear you talking so sweetly about his sunshine? His heart felt like it could burst out of his chest, but he quickly compelled that away to unpack another day.

"Can ya start tomorrow? I have a late shift bein' a sports night n all." Clyde attempted to shake his thoughts away. He had to try at least to pretend like he hadn't spent the better part of his shift taking longing glances at you, admiring the way your white tee and jeans fit your curves in a way that made sure he'd have to walk around with a semi and adjust his pants for the rest of the day.

"Sure thing. Your place?" Clyde nods and gives you a time and address.

--------

The next several weeks were filled with endless princess gatherings, storytelling from faraway lands, coloring for hours on end, and whatever adventure Lyla would conjure up that day. She warmed up to you almost instantly; things were going great. Better than great, sometimes, you had to question if this was really your job with how much fun you were having. Lyla was witty, smart, and had an imagination to be envied. She seemed so free and unapologetically herself in the best way. You could tell she had been raised with an unconditional love any kid could only dream of. It wasn't like the occasional meltdown didn't take place from time to time, being a toddler and all. But you always find a way to bring that smile back to Lyla's face.

Things with Clyde hadn't simmered down in the slightest. Every interaction, every glance, every accidental touch had your yearning growing. Every moment spent together allowed you to quietly admire something new about him. The way his chest filled out those t-shirts he often wore, his hair that begged to have your fingers tangled in it, or even how he pursed his lips in that way that had your core clenching whenever he spoke. Not to mention, seeing him with Lyla made your knees weak. This gentle giant's soft demeanor melted your heart while twisting your insides in the most delicious way. Still, Lyla kept you more than busy; otherwise, you'd spend your days daydreaming about Clyde Logan. Today was no different. Building forts and baking cookies had been the first thing on the itinerary, and knowing Lyla, there was always more to come. When she'd finally fallen asleep watching Cinderella on the couch, you carefully tucked her into her bed and quietly exited the room, shutting the door just as Clyde entered the trailer.

"Hey." You whispered as Clyde set down his stuff and went to the kitchen. "I just put her to bed."

"Thanks. Sorry, 'M late. Bar kept gettin' crazy n' I just couldn't get away. It's-" You cut him off by placing a hand on his arm, feeling him tense under you.

"Clyde, it's okay. That's what I'm here for, remember?" You winked at him before walking toward the kitchen to put away the rest of the dishes. Clyde headed to the fridge and pulled out two beers. Your cheeks warmed, watching him lean over with one sturdy arm on the fridge door, the muscles on his back rippling under the worn-down t-shirt while the two bottles fit snuggly in his large hand. Get it together, you told yourself, forcing your gaze away.

"Beer?" Clyde gestured toward you. "I was jus' gonna have one on the porch." The words tumbled from his mouth without realizing. He knew it was a bad idea, but he couldn't help himself. You looked all comfortable, your books and blanket on his couch, standing here in his kitchen, in his home, moving around like you belonged there. But Clyde wasn't stupid; his head was definitely playing tricks on him. There wasn't a universe that existed where a woman as beautiful as you would be interested in a guy like him, and he understood that. Now the only problem was keeping his heart and dick in check long enough to be professional. 

The night sky was decorated with stars against the black abyss, quiet and still. Just the two of you sitting in comfortable silence. Clyde followed you outside, shutting the door quietly. You sat beside him, legs folded comfortably in the porch chairs as he handed you a cold beer. 

"So, how was everythin'?" He said before taking a swig of his beer, the soft rumble of his voice activating those darn butterflies in your stomach already.

"Great. Pretty sure she tried on every princess dress in her closet and saw Frozen at least ten times. We danced, sang, and even built a fort." You found yourself smiling at the memory of Lyla with a mismatched dress and crown belting 'Let It Go' with you while jumping around her room. "Same old, same old."

"Mhm." Clyde relaxed further into his seat. The more time you spent with him, the more apparent it became that he was a man of few words. Still, you appreciated the ones he was willing to share with you. 

"It was a good day; it always is." You noticed Clyde stretched his left arm before him as if irritated by it. 

"Mind if I take this off?" The words tumbled out before Clyde could stop them, the beer loosening his tongue. Clyde wasn't sure why he suddenly felt comfortable enough around you to remove his prosthesis. He was pretty sure the people closest to him hadn't even seen him without it. Although it shouldn't surprise him, his sense of ease around you only grew within the last couple of weeks.

"Go ahead." Clyde hesitated for a second, then carefully removed his prosthetic, massaging the tender spot. Your eyes scanned the newly exposed skin. "Does it hurt?" Clyde paused his movement and huffed. You cleared your throat, the day's exhaustion clearly eliminating whatever filter you had left. "Sorry. I didn't mean to-forget I said anything." 

"'S alright. Served two tours n' ended with this. 'N no, not really, not all the time, at least. Jus' bothers having this thing on all day." You nodded, understanding it was something still difficult for him to talk about.

"You don't have to ask, you know? To take it off. I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable for no reason." Clyde smiled while nursing his beer. When he looked over, he found your eyes tracing the scars left behind on his arm. Clyde reached for his sleeve, suddenly feeling the need to cover up, before you placed your hand on his arm, stopping him. "Is this okay?" Clyde gulped and gave a slight nod. He wasn't sure if it was the exposed flesh or how vulnerable this whole thing felt, but he swore he could feel every nerve on his body light up under your touch. Your fingers lightly outlined the scar for a moment before you smiled at him, settled back into your chair, and sipped your beer. 

"Mellie dropped by today, and I meant to ask you if I should know of anyone coming by to see Lyla other than your siblings. Friends maybe? Her mom?" You snuck in that last part before you could stop yourself; the last thing you wanted to do was overstep. But you were curious. Lyla never mentioned her, and you didn't notice any pictures of her around the house. Was she a good mom? Was she pretty? She had to be to be Lyla's mom. Did she still hang around? Would she like you hanging around? Maybe she wouldn't want you getting all close to Clyde. Hush that is none of your business, you told yourself.

"Lyla's mom isn't in the picture. Never was. She jus' about dropped Lyla at my doorstep 'n we never heard from her again. Didn't want nothin' to do with her or me, said so in the letter she left." His words spliced across your heart, and tears welled in your eyes for the little girl sleeping soundly inside. Just thinking about someone walking away from an angel like that with such carelessness had you wanting to find this woman with your fist immediately.

"So, you two never?" Clyde shook his head almost as if you'd insulted him.

"It was a one-time thing. A drunken night full of bad choices, 'N then she disappeared. Popped back up again with Lyla, and that was it. Letters last I heard from her." Clyde said. "Not that I wanted her to come back. I don't. We've been jus' fine just us two." 

"I don't doubt that for a second." 

-----------

The following Sunday morning came with blue skies and warm summer air. Clyde insisted you'd take Sundays for yourself, although you weren't sure why. It's not like you had any other friends around here besides Mel, not to mention a social life being out of the question. When you weren't with Lyla, plans usually consisted of staying at home with a good book and getting chores done. You were gathering your things to lay out in the sun for a bit when Mellie called about being overbooked at the salon and Clyde having an emergency at the bar and asked if you could watch Lyla for the day. A few minutes later, you managed to put together an easy picnic basket, threw a shirt and shorts over your bathing suit, and headed out the door.

A short drive and only two knocks on the trailer later, Lyla ran out, wrapping both arms around your legs in a tight hug. She quickly pulled you inside to find Clyde sitting on the couch with cartoons playing faintly in the background. 

"Hi." The morning rasp in his voice had your chest tightening and face flushing. He wore a faded t-shirt and simple dark gray sweats that you had to fight not to stare at. "I tried callin'. Ya didn't have to come, everythin's been takin care of."

"Oh. My phone must still be on do not disturb from last night or something. I was gonna take Lyla to the lake for a picnic and maybe a swim." Lyla's face immediately perked up as she squealed excitedly.

"I'm gonna go get my swimsuit on!" She yelled as she tried to run off into the hall before Clyde stopped her.

"Now, sunshine, today's her day off."

"What's that mean?" Lyla's disappointment grew along with the pout on her face. 

"Means she's got stuff to do, stuff she's gotta get done today. She'll be back tomorrow, hm?" Lyla reluctantly nodded as Clyde placed a kiss on her forehead.

"Well," you interjected, unsure if it was your place to say something, but there was no way you could stand by and disappoint Lyla like this, especially when spending your days with her had become your favorite thing to do. "If it's okay with your dad, I'd love some company. I can't eat all these PB&J's and snacks I packed alone now, can I?" Lyla looked toward Clyde. A mix of 'please' and 'please, daddy' flooded Clyde's ears before reluctantly giving in to his daughter's whim. Lyla sprinted toward her room to change, mumbling something about showing her water tricks, making you chuckle.

"You're welcome to join us. I packed plenty of food, and it's too nice of a day out to stay inside." Clyde contemplated for a moment. Just the thought of seeing you prancing around in the water in a skin-tight bathing suit had his pants tightening uncomfortably. He wasn't sure he could control himself. But he had the day off and sure as hell didn't want to spend it without his Sunshine. Plus, he wasn't entirely comfortable with the two of you alone by the creek in the woods. It would be safer if he went with you. At least that's what he told himself as he agreed and slipped away to change into his water shorts.

The drive over to the creek went a little faster than usual, thanks to you and Lyla singing along to some of her favorite songs. Clyde spent the entire ride concealing a smirk at the sight of both of you breaking into song and then into a fit of giggles once one of you would get the words mixed up. Once you'd arrived, Clyde wasted no time unloading the truck and helping a restless Lyla get out of her seat. You found the perfect shady spot to set up the blanket and laid out some things from the picnic basket; once satisfied, you set your shorts and shirt to the side and settled in. Lyla wasted no time hitting the water, barely letting you slather some sunscreen before sprinting off with her floatie. You sat by the shore with your book, watching her splash around. The cool water around your legs is a nice relief from the sun's warmth on your skin. Clyde sat back against the tree, keeping his eyes on the two of you. He couldn't help but imagine if this was what it would be like—having someone by his side sharing moments like these with Lyla. 

The afternoon passed far too quickly. A blur of splashes and fits of laughter ended with a sleepy Lyla slung on her dad's shoulders as you packed everything back into the truck and headed out. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the fleeting colors of dusk began to fade away. Only the rumble of the truck and crickets chirping surrounded by the night sky remained. Lyla's soft snores could be heard from behind as you glanced over at Clyde. The soft moonlight reflected off his skin, hair still slightly damp from the creek. His eyes were trained on the road ahead, but you could tell something was on his mind as he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

You sat comfortably on the passenger seat, your thigh dangerously close to his hand resting on the gear. His fingers itched to reach over, wondering how soft your flesh would feel under his touch. No matter how hard it was to keep a calm facade, he couldn't help but recall the silky skin over your bathing suit top, curves he would kill to trace every inch of it with his tongue teasing him from every angle. Even the way your teeth caught on your lip in the most sinful way was driving him insane. Everything about today was driving him insane. Not to mention watching you with his Sunshine. How you'd dramatically play along to every scenario Lyla created until you were nothing but a fit of giggles, watching in awe as you smothered her in hugs and kisses every time she'd swim into your arms. His sunshine was an affectionate girl, don't get him wrong. But she sure as hell didn't open up easily to strangers, yet here you were, winning her over from day one. Clyde shook away the ache in his heart at the thought as he redirected his attention back to the road.

A short while later, you'd arrived back at Clyde's. He hopped out of the car just after you did, carrying a passed-out Lyla in his arms into the house. You stayed outside, wondering if you should wait for him to return or count your losses and hurry home. Before you could make up your mind, Clyde appeared and shut the door quietly behind him, leaving the two of you uncomfortably close on his front porch.

"Thank ya for today." The faulty lamp above you did little against the night.

"It's no problem," you said before a silence fell between you. The dim light accentuated his nose and the plumpness of his lips in the most beautiful way. His eyes drifted up to yours as you took a tentative step toward him. Your heart began to pound, chests nearly pressed against one another, feeling a familiar desire spread in your core. Clyde's breathing grew heavier, suddenly aching to get you closer.

Just as the longing became unbearable, he closed the gap between your mouths, first with the utmost gentleness, then with the hunger of a starved man. You made a delicious little sound and responded with the same fervor, sparking a fire in his belly. He didn't want it to stop. The warmth of his mouth had you melting into him. Your lips parted slightly as his hand came up loosely at the side of your neck, holding you close.

"Daddy!" Lyla's distant voice rang in your ears. Clyde pulled away suddenly; a rush of frigid air replaced the warmth where his body was pressed up against you. It was as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over the two of you, snapping you back into your harsh reality. Lyla began to cry from what was probably a nightmare. Clyde sighed as he looked toward the front door and back to you. You cleared your throat and wrapped your sweatshirt tighter around, unable to look him in the eye after he'd practically kissed you dizzy.

"I should go. Goodnight, Clyde." You offered him a warm smile and dashed to your car before he could say anything else. Clyde stood with his head slightly hung, ensuring you were safely in the driver's seat before heading inside. You lowered the windows in an attempt to let the humid summer night air free from inside, hoping a little fresh air would snap you out of whatever trance Clyde had just put you under. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach as you ran your fingers along your lips, the ghost of his kiss still buzzing through you on the drive home.

[grains-of-granola]

always

Hii!!! This is one of my first posts so I hope you like it!!!

Summary: You never were that amazing, and you thought that it was a miracle that Theodore Nott could even tolerate you, much less love you. So when you hear another girl talking about your boyfriend, you think that your worst nightmares are true. What does Theo have to say??

a/n: I wrote this while listening to 16 by Sadie Jean. Also, if I spelled anything wrong, sorry. I can be a little clueless and stupid at times.

Theodore Nott. One of the hottest boys in all of Hogwarts, was dating a shy, insecure, hufflepuff. No one could believe it. Even you were having a hard time believing that he truly loved you with no strings attached.

Theo was known for being a playboy. Setting bets on pretty much every girl he set eyes on. So it wasn't so hard to believe that you were no exception.

You would often find yourself wondering when he would end it, or when you would accidentally walk in on him snogging another girl. But it never happened.

After a month long of hugs, kisses, cuddles, and pretty much just Theo melting under your touch and falling deeper in love every time you spoke, you finally believed that he did in fact truly care about you.

That was until one day, on your way to the Great Hall for breakfast, when you overheard two girls talking.

"I'm telling you, he likes you!" One girl stated, in a failed attempt to be quiet. You recognised her. It was none other than your best friend, Arielle.

"No way, he's dating that one girl. What's her name again?" The other responded.

"Y/N." Arielle stated simply.

"Aren't you friends with her or something?"

"That would be an overstatement, Thalia. I only started hanging out with her because she hangs out with the slytherin boys a lot. Even before she started dating Nott. It's only so I can get with Berkshire." You couldn't believe what you were hearing.

"How did she even manage to pull Nott? She's so weird. And I heard she used to cut herself. Who would want to be with her? She's not even that pretty. I see no future between them. Her name doesn't fit with Theo's last name. Y/N Nott. Sounds ridiculous. You know what sounds amazing? Thalia Nott. Perfect fit." Thalia. Her name sounded so familiar.

That's when it hit you. Thalia. Thalia Burton. Theo's ex. He broke up with her last year when she beat him at his own game and cheated on him. She was the first girl he had ever fallen for and she knew it. She was by far the rudest person you had ever met. And a Ravenclaw. Intelligent, and she easily manipulated Theo into staying with her for as long as he did.

You 'friend' giggled.

"She's probably just another one of his bets. Waste of money in my opinion." More giggling.

You brushed past the two girls, unable to listen to another second of their conversation. Your eyes on the brink of releasing a tsunami of tears.

Arielle stopped laughing, immediately recognising you.

"Y/N!! Wait!!"

The pain you were feeling right now was too much. You just wanted to be in the warm embrace of your boyfriend's arms. To feel the rise and fall of his chest as you held onto him for dear life, fearing that if you let go you'd lose him forever.

But did he even want to be near you? Was everything you had experienced with him a lie? Were you just another one of his bets?

Your head started spiraling you just needed to sit down. Eat something. Laugh at a few stupid jokes that Cedric would blurt out during every meal.

That's when you felt two hands creep around your waist, pulling you into a hug.

"Hey baby." You couldn't help but let a few tears fall.

"Hey" You reply, the crack in your voice quite obvious.

Theo looked down at you with a worried expression. He placed a few quick kisses on your forehead and cheeks while slowly swaying side to side.

"Are you okay, Principessa? Get all eight hours?" He knew you.

He knew that if you didn't get a full night's sleep that you would be a little off in the morning. He knew that you needed something to hold onto at night while you slept to feel safe. He knew where to kiss you. How to hold your hand. How to calm you down. He just knew everything about you.

You started to sob. Theo wasted no time in pulling you out of the Great Hall and into an empty hallway.

"Amore mio. What's wrong? Is it that time? I can get you some food? We can go to your dorm and watch movies all day. Whatever you want baby." He waited for you to answer, but you couldn't stop sobbing.

God, maybe those girls were right. Who would want to be with someone like you? You were a sobbing mess. And just because of a rumor that might not even be true.

"Tesoro, per favore. What's wrong?" The worry in his voice was evident.

You shake your head, "I can't. I just can't right now." And with that, you run off to your dorm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Later ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had skipped out on lessons all day and, despite being starving, you hadn't eaten all day just to avoid any interaction with anyone.

Especially with your boyfriend.

You had just finished reading another chapter of your book, when you heard a knock at the door. You hesitantly unlocked the door, scared of who it might be.

Your breath stopped when you realized that it was none other than the king of heartbreak himself. Theodore Nott.

He peeked his head around the door. Providing a small smile to you.

"Hey baby. You feeling better? You really scared me earlier. Do you wanna talk about it?" All of the questions. Questions that made it seem like he cared. Like he truly wanted to know the answers to them.

He walked over to your bed, his arms full of food, mostly candy, and a singular rose. He placed all the food on a plate and set it next to you on your bed while watching attentively for your next move.

You sat up and picked up a roll from the plate, taking small bites as Theo starts to touch you. Your hands, your face, your legs. He just misses you and being near you.

He eventually pulls you up onto his lap and starts placing gentle kisses on your face and neck.

You flinch at the feeling of him kissing you, and he pulls away, still holding onto you, arms wrapped around your waist.

"Princesspa, please, I'm begging you, what's wrong?" Tears start to slowly and silently run down your cheek, and Theo is quick to wipe them away. He turns you around so you're facing him, and he cups your face with both hands.

"Who is making you feel like this, baby? I'll gladly beat them up. Your tears are too precious to be wasted like this." His words alone are enough to make you feel safe and secure, but you know these feelings will come back the second he leaves.

You have to tell him, even if you don't want to.

"It's just.. I heard these two girls this morning. They were talking about me.. and you."

"Who, Princesspa? Give me names."

"Arielle and Thalia."

"Your best friend and my ex? What about us, exactly?"

"Well... Arielle was talking about how someone definitely liked Thalia. That someone turned out to be you. They went on about how I wasn't pretty. And about how I was a shy, insecure, loser who cuts herself."

You could see the rage filling up in your boyfriends eyes.

"And Arielle said that she was just pretending to be my friend so she could get closer with Enzo."

A wide smirk spread across Theo's face, he was already planning his revenge.

"And when Thalia asked how me and you even ended up together, Arielle said that I was probably just another one of your bets. And well...I guess I kind of believed it. I mean..why would you want to date me? I am a nobody. I am a loser. I'm shy. I'm insecure. And yes, I used to cut myself." Tears started filling up your eyes again. The smirk on Theo's face was now replaced with a look of worry. A look of sadness.

"Oh baby. Amore mio. Tu sei molto più di questo. Sei tutto per me. You were never a bet. And if you were, then I broke the most important rule. Never fall for them. " You blushed. Your face turning a bright crimson color.

Theo grabbed you and held you close to his chest and swayed you back and forth in his embrace.

"I would never leave you for a girl like Thalia. I promise to always be there for you. Even for the small things. A walk through the park? I'll be right there, holding your hand. Getting drunk at a backyard party? I've already had two more drinks than you."

You chuckle.

"I'm serious. I'm crazy for you, Bella. I love you so much I would do anything for you. Even if it's talking about your boy drama. Cause you already know the Blaise, Draco, Enzo, and Mattheo cause way more drama than you." You simply looked up at your boyfriend, face bright red. A wide smile on his face quickly fading when you don't laugh.

"Y/N.." You cut him off.

"You love me?" The look on his face says it all. He hadn't even realised he had said it. It had simply slipped out. Which, to you, made it even more true. He didn't even have to think to say it. He was stating how he felt about you, and had said he loved you. The first time those words had ever been used in your relationship.

"Always have, Amore mio."

You found it hard to breath again as you realised that, you too, love him.

"I love you too Theo. More than anything."

He wasted no time in pulling you in for a deep kiss. In that moment it seemed as if the whole world had faded away, leaving just you and the love of your life to enjoy this moment together.

When he pulled away he started leaving quick pecks all over your neck and face.

You smiled and let out a chuckle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Later ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your boyfriend had fallen asleep with you resting your head on his chest while finishing the book you had been reading before Theo had walked in.

You moved your body so that your head was still resting on his chest, but you were now facing him.

You started running your hands through his hair as his eyes fluttered open.

"Ciao Principessa."

You smile at the name.

You continue running your hands through his hair while he stares at you with so much love and admiration.

Without looking him in the eyes, you simply state, "You know that you'll have to give me the notes from all the lessons today."

Theo chuckles and you look at him in his eyes.

"I know, baby."

It was then that you knew that you had found the one person that you would love for the rest of your life.

And Theo had found his.

You had found each other, and you were going to love each other always, no matter what.

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

19 - Trust in the Gentle Rasps

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 14.5k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, discussions of warfare, suicidal ideation, grief and trauma, jealousy, posessive tendencies, male sexual assault victim discussion, smut, oral (f receiving), slight canon divergence

Notes: This was one of my favorite chapters to write by far, so hope you enjoy! Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here.

Your quiet was palpable since nearing the water. Travelling west along the runs of the Wall had been easy, but it also meant that none of it felt quite real until now. Much like the last time it seemed, once arriving the body of water needing to cross, you could no longer deny what you were walking into. As soon as the men had crossed the bridge over the Trident it was blood which followed for years until you lay in your own. But whereas then your quiet was the uncertainty of what was to come, this time your quiet was the shadowing memories of what was lost. 

Bringing death and loss to the doorsteps of those who experienced it beside you last time, only now the plea was desperate and you were not the person any would remember. Asking them to make the same choice that ended in a massacre only so that they could hope to stand and fight against one even darker upon the horizon. Camp was being made some distance from the shore as you hovered back. 

The footsteps which approached you belonging to one of the only people brave enough to approach you when poised with such tense rigidness and sharp cold in your eyes as you looked over things. “I didn’t imagine you were one to stand back and watch others take over for you.” Nothing but curiosity in Ser Davos’s voice as you both stood side by side now. You didn’t respond but he took no offence. “Not from what I saw in you that day, either. You’re a more confident leader then this, your grace.” 

Fingers clenching in your crossed arms before inhaling deeply. “I am not the one they chose to follow. If I had to do this alone, I would have. But not a single one of these men would be here if he wasn’t.” Your eyes sharp as they followed Jon across the way. 

You were more distant with him then ever. 

“He is only here because of you.” 

A waver in your breath, you finally glanced away from the distant figure to look at Ser Davos. Slightly shaking your head as you tried to stand as calm and unaffected as you could manage. “He’s here because the North is his home, and he’s fighting to protect it. Doesn’t need me for that. The North never has.” 

You didn’t want to see the understanding sympathy in Davos’s eyes, you knew it wasn’t just one you were talking of. You failed to see yourself as anything worthy in either of their lives and only the remaining wonder if you had not been there, would they have avoided death? Was your presence this time an omen that blood would follow once more for such a leader? You were too involved in a life he had been forging without you. 

Leaning down more towards your side, his own voice lowered to match your tone. “You wouldn’t know that if you keep avoiding him, now would you?” Turning away as your eyes peeled from him in a glare to out back to the settling camp of free folk your jaw clenched harshly. “I’m not trying to involve myself in your affairs, your grace, but I do know he’s as tense as you are. And two tense leaders who refuse to speak to each other isn’t what I’d call good for morale.” 

It would be so much easier if you didn’t feel as if your lives were constantly trying to circle around each others like magnetic pulls wishing to attach. Would be easier if you just could detach from whatever this all was and do what needs to be done and forget the rest. But you didn’t have nearly enough of your father in you for that. 

“I wasn’t the one who acted as their peacekeeper, not sure these men really would care about what I add to their spirits or not. Seem to be doing just fine.” Truly you were grateful but you could slink into the waters ahead and never return, and the cause and leader they followed would stay the same. 

Good thing about Davos, he knew well enough when to not push one or the other. Unfortunate for you, there was very little he could broach that wasn’t going to give you a headache further. “Surprised me that you allowed your mother to come along.” 

“So was she.” You gave her little room to argue or question, but you knew leaving her alone either at Castle Black or worse, sending her home unprotected at Dragonstone was only with grim prospects. “If all she has left is me, then it does not matter what issues lay between us. She would have no one left, and that...mother’s need something, someone left to live for no matter how strained.” 

Your instructions were clear, she is not to involve herself in this war or planning in anyway, and she is to keep thoughts of this religion of hers to herself. The last thing this cause needed was more whispers of unnatural abilities or other world like purposes. “She’s not good at saying it, but she’s grateful you care. Though most of your family isn’t good at saying what they mean, are you?” 

It barley caught the hint of even the halfest of smirks. More of a tiny glint in your eye that faded as quickly as it sparked as he continued. “Never seen this many wildlings in once place.” 

“I think they prefer the term, free folk.” 

Right back to the start he was correcting himself. “Never seen this many free folk in once place.” 

“If I’m not mistaken, Ser Davos neither you or I have ever seen any free folk until meeting them, period.” Technically you had met one but hardly for long. Bran had told Sam that Osha took Rickon alone to saftey when he went beyond the wall with Howland Reed’s children. You had no reason not to trust her, you just hoped she could keep him safe in the same overwhelming dread of two teenagers, Hodor, and Summer all there was to keep Bran safe beyond the wall. Not noting your wondering mind, Davos chuckled beside you, and you wished you could as well. “I just hope they understand what they’re truly getting involved in.” 

You heard the man before you saw him, a rumbling laugh before he was brave enough to slap an arm around your shoulder as the simple force jostled you. “You doubting us already, pretty crow?” Never did quite get used to how large Tormund stood beside you, like a cliff that was pained orange only with much more vulgar echoes. 

Flickering your eyes to the side, you didn’t move much more but there was at least more of a hint of amusement then before. “No. I simply understand it’s a strange fight you’ve decided to involve yourselves in, after everything that’s happened I mean.” 

Shrugging to himself, he looked back to the camp and pulled you in closer. Giving Ser Davos a slight bit of whiplash as to how used to being yanked around by such a large figure you appeared. You spent three years with Maege Mormont, you were no stranger to being jostled around by loud personalities, but the thought made you swallow. Trying not to think about what would happen when you get there and who wasn’t. You knew Dacey hadn’t gotten out that day, and it made you sick to think about. 

The two Mormont’s meant much to you, helped ease you into something normal in an army camp as they cared not to watch their tones with you. Dacey didn’t deserve to have her life end at the Twins like that, none of them did. Too many faces you wondered about, some more then others.

Tormund beside you, paid no mind to your thoughts. “After everything? You mean after seeing the dead rise up after getting slaughtered? You southerners aren’t so bad compared to that.” 

A moment of quiet between you three before finally speaking up in more command. “I want you coming with us when we travel across.” Both men turned to you with a curious look but you only kept your eye out onto the distant water. “We stayed a ways back so they wouldn’t feel ambushed, but if we are going to get them to say yes, then we shouldn’t shy away from the fact that they’ll be agreeing to fight beside your people.” 

A deep humour in his voice with long exaggerated sound out of each word, “I am honoured, your grace.” 

For once, that actually got a small smirk out of you. A lightness in your tone that tried to fight away and failed. “Now that just sounded wrong coming out of your mouth.” Tormund laughed as well, knowing only he was watching a far pair of eyes narrowing in this very direction. 

Choosing to look as much in them as he could manage as he leaned down to you, “So what does a pretty crow like you prefer to be called?” 

Rolling your eyes at such a jest, you fell not for the bait without knowing it was even cast. “Tormund, I am fairly certain it doesn’t matter what I say you will just continue to call me whatever term finds itself in your head.” 

It would not be many of you, Jon, Davos, Tormund, Theon, Selyse, and yourself being escorted to the main land of Bear Island hoping it sent a message of civility. There was no real threat of enemy being given from House Mormont and yet as you stepped onto the deck of the boat you felt your heart race. It didn’t matter how many of you there were. An army didn’t save from a massacre the last time you went to a meeting with what was supposed to be an ally. 

Still, you stayed on the opposite end as he did. If you didn’t know what to say in private then you were surely lost as to what to say to him in the fake quiet just out of others earshot. But you felt his eyes on you, and thus yours stayed attached to the waters ahead. 

“Starting to tell who is used to being on a ship.” Turning to look at Theon, your eyes were slightly squinting from the winds in them but otherwise a little more calm washed through. You were perched against the back wall leading to the bow with both legs hanging over the deck and a hand resting casually on a rope by you. He gestured to your posture himself, “Don’t think I’ve seen you this relaxed in a while either.” 

Theon leaned against the edge, his arms folded against the wood just beside where you sat looking out to the waters passing. “You forget, I grew up on an island as well. Spent half my time on ships going from White Harbour, to Dragonstone, to King’s Landing and back. This is nothing.” 

Davos was the only other who found agreement in the breeze. Long time his job was travelling along waters but in the recent years of his life they weren’t in hiding from any eyes. At least he and your mother were used to keeping the other’s company by this point. You didn’t want her to be alone, but that didn’t mean you had a clue how to talk to her. 

Both you and Theon stuck to looking out to the waters with little focus on any else, it was nice. For a moment, it felt like the days when you were both just teenagers not having to care about the politics around. “I forgot until I got there, how salty Pyke smelled. Even in the summer Winterfell was always so crisp and it wasn’t until I was on a boat did I remember that not being able to smell the sea used to be so odd.” 

You managed to find half a smile in your heart, “I always thought anywhere would be better then Dragonstone. Only on the beach did it really smell like the sea, otherwise the further from the castle you go, the more it just smells like brimstone. The deeper into the trees you go the worse that gets.” You could still see her. Hoisted up onto the edge of a rock so she sat level with your height as you both looked down to where you knew deep tunnels were formed under the surface. She hardly left the main bounds of the castle, so Shireen always loved the smell of brimstone. To her it was like the scent of adventure. 

Amused slightly, he asked, “You saying Winterfell smells worse then that place?” 

No hesitation as your face grimaced in the memory. “No, I’m saying that King’s Landing smells worse then all it combined.” Theon looking curiously at you, but your eyes only kept in the distance as the land grew closer. “Too many people packed into too small of a city, everyone is poor the moment you leave the Red Keep and no one cares about it. Add a summer heat onto that and you get the worse smelling city you’ve ever come across. That I certainly don’t miss.” 

“Do you miss anything about it?” 

You were quick, tone dropping to something harsh. “No. I was always miserable there. Either I was being dragged away from my sister, or I was being dragged away from..” Swallowing thickly you tried to drop the weight from so high in your throat. “Constantly going from King’s Landing to Winterfell was awful. I was so miserable everytime I got back to the capitol and everyone knew it. Renly used to always say everywhere but Winterfell disagreed with me.” 

“He was right.” Your eyes finally meeting. “Much as we try to tell ourselves otherwise, or how long we spent where we grew up, the North was our home. Where our actual family was.” Not a sea sick, but that weight dropped from your throat to your heart and the dizziness from it made you feel nauseous. 

“Hard to remember that some days.” 

It wasn’t home where you were both kept, it wasn’t home where you were trapped and tortured sometimes only done in mocking of the other. It wasn’t family that brought you back home, that wasn’t a place you belonged. That wasn’t the home what Robb once told you that you belonged in. Even if this was successful, even if you reclaimed it, it was hard to imagine finding a home there once more behind this loneliness.

“Do you ever wonder whether or not it would’ve been better if you left me there?” You didn’t look, you could feel a narrowed sharp gaze on you from Theon but you didn’t want to handle it beyond the swirling in your own mind. “Escape with your own life, and spare the spiral of death that’s done nothing but follow where I go now?” 

The weight in his voice made you feel only more sick on the inside. “No. But do you know what it is I do wonder? Whether or not you’ve actually gotten past wishing you were still dead.” A stab in your mind pricked at something that was sharp and full of a sting behind your eyes. “For a long time with him, there was nothing. Took everything about who I was and killed it. Until he dragged me down to see you. And then the only thing that kept me trying to fight to stay myself was knowing that any day I could wake up and you would’ve taken your own life just to make him stop. So I got you out of there, got us out but then some days, I don’t know if I really did. I think you’re still trapped with Ramsay wishing you were dead.” 

Truth be told, he wasn’t wrong. Theon knew what that pain inside you was, because he had watched it fester for over a year before you finally ran out into the freezing cold to escape it. But you were still in that place, reliving those nightmares from The Twins and waking up to the violence Ramsay would enjoy throwing your way. And ever since leaving all you did was drag that violence and burden along behind you to weigh down and hurt everyone else with. 

And it was nothing but feeling selfish that made you want to jump into these waters and let it take you to the bottom forever. Who would still be alive were you to have stayed dead? If not beside Robb, then at least by taking the less cowardly route and end yourself before you brought this blood to others doorsteps. “There are far too many eyes on me at all times to get away with that now.” 

To you it was meant as a joke, but to Theon it was anything but. “No. You’re just going to make the rest of us watch as you do it slowly over time.” 

You didn’t argue. He didn’t elaborate. Theon was right but you had no defence, excuse or otherwise to refute it. The only good memories you had left, the only things you found to give any breathe in your lungs were marred in only doing it beacuse you were weak. At least that was what it felt like.

Bear Island was a far more beautiful Island then Dragonstone. Cliff sides of rock that were naturally carved into the thick trees surrounding each clearing of land and water that splashed against them or poured down from pools pocketing the surface. The air was as crisp as ever and the faint misting of water against those rocky shores poured back down onto the boat. 

You always loved that mist. In the heat of summer it was a refreshing reprieve from how thick the air was that only ever faded the closer to King’s Landing you sailed. Calm waters in a dense and busy port that was as loud and crowded as it was hot. This wasn’t that, you jumped down from your perched place and braced both hands onto the edge of the boat to look over the coming Keep with wider eyes. 

The last time you looked out to the water shining in the sun also painted in your mind, and you felt a twisting in your stomach and the freezing that followed as it bled out in minutes. Suddenly there was a lot less calm, and far more creeping dread inside that you could feel yourself growing dizzy from it’s volume. 

As the ship finally docked, you inhaled with your eyes firmly shut for a moment before turning to rejoin the world. Meeting Jon’s eyes as you both made your way to the middle, there was a moment of just firm understanding for the meeting to come. Whatever this was, you had to do it together it was the only way. 

He didn’t put a hand on you as he gestured politely for you to pass, but he could easily see the unusual amount of tension strung high in your shoulders. A few guards coming to greet you as Jon took the mantle up to introduce you both by proper name. Keeping it as unmessy as possible with titles now that you both know what of that loomed.  

It was strange though, realizing for the first time you had never heard Jon refer to you as anything but a Baratheon. Hearing Stark felt wrong coming from him, but you weren’t sure why, not realizing it was just as strange for him to say it. You as a Stark felt like a different person then the one he knew for so many years, but yet in the quiet and dark you were exactly that same Baratheon he remembered. 

If there was talking around you or Jon, neither of you really noticed it. Conversation scattered behind you both between four behind you, who other then now would never have conceived of meeting and ahead two people who knew each other far better then this hurtful silence had any right being attached too. 

Tormund and Theon finding a strange array of things to talk about, both coming from culture’s with some of the most bloodshed focused of traditions. Davos and Selyse alongside them, much more quiet but still civil and calm. If any of them noticed the oddity that was the painful silence between you and Jon, none spoke of it. 

Coming up to the steps of the castle, you tried not to glance beside you, not to notice the way the mist of the shores had his curls sitting a little less wild in it’s dampness. And biting your tongue with a glare to nothing trying very much to ignore the images in your head and memories your body was asking to relive. 

But as he turned to you, if Jon noticed the intentions behind your already watching eyes he didn’t address it. Voice low and in a bit of comfort to your own, sounded the faintest hint of unsure. “Hope you and I know the Mormont’s as well we think.” 

Easing those same nerves as you were led inside you nodded to the sword at his side. “I wasn’t the one who was trusted to be given their ancient sword.” 

His own tone was more teasing, as was the glint in his eyes looking back at you. “And I’m not the one they followed into war calling a Queen.” 

Your eyes now on the halls in front, missing the genuine smile you got from him. “Would be a bit strange if they started calling you a Queen, Snow.” That was a small jest he felt it had been a long time since he had heard from you. Always calling him that only when you were in your own gentle teasing mood, yet it was never even possible to match the levels he could dish to you in particular. 

Still, something about how easily the lightness slipped from your mouth, felt like hope. 

Alysane Mormont looked remarkably like a younger version of her mother. Tall and large with a bright look in her eye as she stood behind the one sitting in the desk. This one you heard of more, the youngest, Lyanna sat very small and young at only ten. Alysane was older, but seemed to be giving the youngest a chance at being in charge as she watched her carefully.

At least until Jon went to greet them both. Which was when the older one spoke up looking at you with a squint. “Never thought we’d see a Queen in our halls. Let alone a dead one.” 

Her tone was light, but gods was the look and air shared between you and Jon anything but. You wanted to be intimidating, wanted to put on the best face but you knew their mother and you knew it wasn’t stilted formality the older woman had responded too. 

Your own glance to Alysane with a raised eyebrow, “I never thought I’d wake up after dying. We both get to experience something new.” It was very easy to see her mother in her, letting her sister take the reigns but she watched with something like a fondness as you softened a bit. “I also know Dacey wasn’t given the same chance, and I’m sorry.” 

Little Lyanna was as quick as she had been described. “It wasn’t you who killed her.” 

You wanted none of that, looking more seriously at her. “No, I didn’t. But someone should take responsibility for it, and she called me Queen which means it’s me to take that blame.” 

Her eyes narrowed with a strange look to you, as Alysane turned to look beside you. “You’re here, which means this is Jon Snow, I take it? The King’s brother.” 

It was heavy between both of you, and his voice was rough as he spoke. “I am. I also served under your Uncle at Castle Black, my lady. I was his steward.” 

Lyanna watched, but it was recognition in her sister’s eyes that was of interest. Glancing down only for a second to where the hilt of Longclaw could be seen, before glancing back up to look at him with something that certainly made the air feel a little more interesting. “Last I heard you were named Lord Commander after him. What’s Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch doing at our Queen’s side all the way here?” 

You narrowed your eyes, as she certainly would know. But Jon didn’t play along with whatever game the ladies were trying to set up as he looked to Lyanna. “We’re here to ask for your help. I know Stannis Baratheon tried to pledge your house to his army, and I was shown your response, Lady Lyanna. Bear Island knows no King, but the King in the North. Whose name is Stark.” 

Moment of weakness, your eyes flickered over to him. Standing tall and sure it was easy to see why he’d be chosen as Lord Commander. Even in deep quiet tones, he spoke as a leader. 

“Now I may not be a Stark in name, but Robb was my brother, and the home and Kingdom he died for is being torn apart by the Boltons. And I also know that the same man who murdered him and shoved a knife in her stomach.” Jon gestured to you with something of a controlled anger in his voice and clear as day on his face. “Kept your Queen as their prisoner, and spent almost a year being tortured by them beyond anything you can imagine. Roose and Ramsay Bolton cannot be allowed to keep Winterfell, and as long as they do, the North will continue to suffer. With Robb gone, that means it is my duty to stop them.” 

Unseen by most of the party, but as Ser Davos stood to the side there was a bit of a proud smile trying to fight it’s way onto his face. Jon was not quite as stubborn as Stannis had seemed to think. 

The younger one glancing to her sister before turning back to the pair of you with her own doubtful eyes. “You mean to protect the North, but you bring wildlings into our land, and one into my home?” 

 An eyebrow raised on you, “Forgive me, my lady but it seems you might be misunderstanding what we are here for.” All eyes turned to you as you found something of a voice, “Jon and I are not here to ask you to make friends. The Free Folk and the Night’s Watch have been fighting each other for thousands of years and yet now there is an army of them on the mainland who followed Jon all this way because they understand this is more important then who our enemies were before.” 

Something in you couldn’t let it passed. Something deep that remembered, as you sat against the bars in an unknowing shock, staring at the corpse of the man next to you. And in the worst of that moment, it was Tormund who came to sit at your side. Who helped you stand and regain your focus to do what needed to be done that day. “Both of these men fought against each other, murdered men on the other side of their fight but now they stand here together because they understand that if we can’t protect the North from each other then we cannot protect it from whats coming.” 

A silence was thick in that room. “And what exactly is coming, your grace?” 

You could see the visions and dreams of cold and ice but it was Jon who answered for you. “Summer is over, and winter isn’t just coming, my lady. It’s already here. And when the worst of it hits, so will the dead, and with them, the Others.” Both women shared a look, but there was no amusement in any of the eyes in the room standing before them. Jon’s own was filled with a haunting memory. “I went to Hardhome beyond the wall to bring the free folk south, because the Others are awake, and they’re building their own army. I saw them, I fought them, I even killed one of them and when it was all over I watched every single person who died stand up beside them.” 

Stepping forward to the desk, there was an undeniable determination in his eyes that made both Mormonts almost shrink back from it’s intensity. His palms leaning against the desk to properly look the more defiant one on equal ground. “If we can’t protect the North from ourselves, then when the Others come, we won’t stand a chance. The free folk have attacked Bear Island many times over I know that, they held me prisoner in their own lands where at any moment he,” 

He turned partially, gesturing to Tormund behind him, “or any of the others I was with were ready to kill me the second they realized I wasn’t on their side. But now he’s trusted his people with me, because we cannot fight a war amongst ourselves and expect there to be enough of us to fight the only one that matters. There’s no hiding from this. We have to fight, and we have to do it together. All of us.”

Alysane looked at you with a questioning gaze that you almost willed her not to bring up. Letting Lyanna prove her valour and stand her ground in making a choice for her people, and it was a relieving feeling when the small girl looked up at Jon almost impressed. “House Mormont has kept faith with House Stark for thousands of years. And we will not break faith today.” 

Jon nodded, standing up straighter. “Thank you, my lady. But I’m not asking you on behalf of House Stark. I’m only asking you to protect the North we both grew up in, not for my family, and not for any oaths you swore to them. I’m a Northerner just like you, all I’m asking is you fight beside me as one as well.” 

Your eyes slipped shut. You knew she was going to say it, and it was precisely why you wanted Jon to understand exactly what this was going to be. Alysane was the one who likely knew it, if not both the surely the now eldest daughter she would know. “Are you though?” 

Jon turned his head to her, a confusion in his own eyes that slipped to a well hidden realization. If he were to be honest if you had asked, he had almost forgotten about that conversation. It was a little too easy, almost embarrassingly so to forget that conversation when he was torn between this coming wars and trying very hard not to obsess like an animal over how to fix things between you. 

But as she spoke, you could feel all four pairs of eyes turn to you from behind as Jon looked at Alysane. Perhaps you should have warned them of this as well. “Only asking us a Northerner? The King in the North we chose was your brother. My mother brought our men to fight for Robb Stark against the Lannisters, my eldest sister was killed the same night the Freys and Boltons killed the King, and his Queen.” Her eyes were curious and it painfully reminded you of the knowing look Maege Mormont had given you when you realized she knew you were hiding being with child. 

Your voice was a bit cracked, as Jon took a step back now closer to your side then he was when this meeting first started. Speaking, you tried not to think about how comforting being close to him currently felt. “If you would like Lady Alysane, Jon and I could stand here and show you the scars that killed us both if you are with doubt of our story or intentions, though it might be a tad indecent in front of your younger sister.”

They had heard rumours of you, but not of him and yet not a single one in your own group looked as if it were untrue or merely a joke. House Mormont was your best shot, and you knew you had to lay our cards out on the table as plain as possible. No matter how uncomfortable. 

For a moment she looked taken back, “Your grace that was not..” She glanced between you both with something in her eyes that looked just like the awing fear many had thrown you and Jon at Castle Black and amongst the free folk. “It was not my intention to doubt, we have no reason to think either of yourselves would come to us with lies. My mother trusted you, and my uncle you.” Nodding to you then Jon respectively. “I merely mean he isn’t just asking us as a Northerner-”

You could still see two faces, one on Jons of a stunned feeling when you told him, and the other of Robb as there was nothing but confidence and love as he made it clear to all of his decision. You were quiet, and Jon was thankful you spoke for him this time. “Help us reclaim the North first. Nothing is as important as this fight, right now. The Bolton’s will soon know we are coming for them and we need as much of the North together as we can for when we come to their doors.” 

The two Mormonts shared a look. Lady Lyanna looking up to both of you, “I can give you sixty two of my our own household guard, and whatever of our own men my mother can provide you with.” 

Your eyes perked up slightly, as did a jolt in your heart. She was one you did not know the fate of. “Is she currently available to meet with ourselves?” 

Alysane tilted her head in question, “She should be returning to the keep by nightfall, left us in charge while she rallied up men as soon a she got your raven, your grace.” You and her both looked at each other with a unique little moment of glee. Alysane had heard much of you, not just as a Queen, but as someone who her mother clearly considered a most valuable friend. “We can provide you all with food and room for the night if you are willing to wait here for her return.” 

Grey eyes found yours, and in your single nod, Jon wasn’t sure but he seemed to sense exactly what it was you were saying. Or more, you seemed to understand his silent question and agreed. “You’re very kind, we would be glad too.” 

A small comment from Davos, that it seemed, managed to make the little Lyanna smile a bit more like the child she was. “If these men are half as ferocious as you two, the Boltons are doomed.”

It was just as you were departing, did Alysane call for you once more. Turning back into the room you looked expectantly. “There is a man in your group, one who looks an awful lot like Theon Greyjoy.” 

She said nothing else of the matter, but you didn’t even move to fully face her as you spoke with a quiet sternness. “That would be beacuse he is, my lady.” Asking why you would allow him here with his life you didn’t even blink. “It was the sentence given by both the King in the North and myself for Theon to be brought to him for execution. And now he stands by my side with his head intact. I will only ask you trust that means his crimes have been paid for, and mention it no more.” 

It was that very one who was turned back to watch as you finally followed, and for just a moment you both looked to the other with a distant unsettled feeling. These people will have no idea just what he’d been through and how many times over it paid for his crimes. But as you nodded for him to move forward along side you, you figured that if they could trust wildlings through Jon they could trust Theon through you.

Nightfall seemed to bring storm clouds onto Bear Island. The gold of the evening fading out as you considered if it was worthwhile to bother heading inside. Not on the side of too dark, but the wind picked up as soon no doubt rain would splatter onto the waters you were looking out at in a matter of time. 

Deepwood Motte was where you would descend on next and reports were still accurate, Ironborn likely still sat deep in the area and getting House Glover on your side would require a fight no doubt. It felt like a lifetime seen you’d seen any kind off violence on fair battle, more so making you wonder if you even had it in you anymore. This wasn’t the same unified fight as it once was, this was a scattered group desperate to unify before it was too late. Group of people who were struggling to find harmony when there was no question of that the first time. 

Everything this time around already started in something broken. A cause that you had to convince people of, from two people who could barley look at each other by now. All this talk of what was meant and destined, but it all felt so disjointed the second you two were alone. You never used to be this way, it was always so easy being with Jon. 

If you were being true to yourself, you were fairly certain that the night before this all kicked off was the first time either of you had ever even argued. Normally finding little to even disagree on, and it wasn’t something you enjoyed doing. You liked getting to the point or just shutting it out until it simmered but then he kept talking and you couldn’t keep it to yourself. You had spoken more today then the entire journey to get to Bear Island from Castle Black. 

Maybe you could slink way in the rain, disappear and him to lead this fight as a true leader on his own and find success within that. 

Enough time had passed all on your own that you hadn’t noticed until the sun begun to set. Didn’t notice that you had missed any appearance in a meal. Your back laid flat on the edge of a stone walls, just looking out to the lands and water, hoping when it rained you would melt with it. 

Jon really should have known better. He knew Tormund was trying to poke at him, trying to set off something that the man knew he was holding back and yet he still let it get to him. Earlier that day, there was no other reason he was making such direct eye contact with him across the camp other then to burn that part of Jon’s insides that hated seeing someone else with you so freely.

He had never had that, and he still didn’t. He could, it didn’t seem like many objected to the idea and even noticed on his part. Uncomfortably he was well aware of the curious stares your mother had been giving him, and he had no idea how to feel about that. Like every Baratheon in your family, Selyse was incredibly hard to read beyond such a stoned expression and sharp but watchful eyes. Even moreso now that much of this group had stuck together since arriving, but like you, she was very quiet.

He had known the woman seemed to be pushing you to some ideas of destiny. It was that of a trick he did, but having no idea where you were, Jon focused enough. Just the right amount of energy that never stopped feeling bone chilling when it happened. If he did it now it would be even stranger, Ghost being on the mainlands and none would know it was Jon through his eyes. But he trusted them to keep peace without having to babysit. 

You however, he was started to think he should just chain you to him for how often you slunk away on your own. Missing the offer of food from the Mormonts, no one knew where you were. And it was that damned orange haired smug smile of Tormund's as he looked to Jon, “Aye, she probably just needs the right kind of company. If no one else objects-” 

Jon took it upon himself to stand abruptly from the table with a deep grumble as he glared. “No need. I’ll go.” Before walking out without waiting for any response. He never had to deal with what this was. It was different with Robb, neither of you chose that and Jon left before he was forced to watch whatever it turned into. Until he did, but from what he knew now that you’d seen a fair share of your own. 

Jon knew why it was more difficult for you. Neither you nor Robb had any choice, it was a surprise to everyone and you made the best of what you were dealt. He wasn’t lying when he said he wanted you and Robb to love each other and he was proud his brother did find someone who made him happy. But no one involved got to choose, there was no freedom there. 

But he never talked about Ygritte, and all you could gather was whispers from others and what the gods had unfairly chosen to show you. All you had seen, was Jon finding something with her that he could never have with you. Ygritte herself tried to argue with him that this was freedom, he could choose to do whatever he wanted and it didn’t matter what they were long as they had each other. 

Freedom of course, coming at the cost of Jon’s well being. It took a very long time for him to admit the truth to himself and even now it felt pathetic to say. But it was her, or death. Nothing else. Prove your worth they said, and proving it was to give her the one thing Jon had spent years dreaming of sharing with you. Convince himself it was good just because of how it felt, telling himself because sometimes he saw the amusing sides of her that that was the true picture. 

But then you asked him that final night and the last of his lies snapped and he let it all explode between the two of you. You had gone to the top of the wall before, looking out to the North one last time in the freezing cold. “I should take you to see how strange it looks from the South during the daytime in some places.” 

“I think I already have.” 

Posed on the edge of the bed he looked up to you, both of your minds trailing to that strange moment thousands of miles away from each other. Eyes wide before something uncomfortable sat in his chest and moved to his heart. Swallowing with a nod he dropped his head. “Right.” He didn’t in that moment know why he spat it out, but he did. “I didn’t love her. Ygritte..I didn’t love her.”

You paused mid movement, turning away from him as your brows narrowed, mumbling. “It isn’t my business if you did.” Jon trying to call your name, get you to look at him but you just shook your head facing away from him. “She was someone you could be with, could be together with. I wouldn’t blame you.” 

Jon sighed, trying to get you to look at him but you just kept looking away. You weren’t malicious, or cruel, or even going for something with an agenda. It was an innocent, quiet question. “Why not? Love her I mean. Why not?” 

It was unfair to let it out on you but he did. “You’re really asking me why I didn’t love her? You?” 

Turning around it was obvious you were confused, but he barrelled on through your protests of confusion at his anger. “You’re the only person I’ve ever loved my entire life. Do you really think the second you’re gone I’m going to just fall for the first woman who comes along? That I forgot about you that easy?” You tried saying his name but he was getting louder, and he knew he needed to pull it back but it wasn’t really you he was looking at. 

It was a far more defiant face who pushed him and pushed him all day long until she broke him enough that he relented, and then every support she gave him was in value of something Jon never was or wanted to be. An anger in her own eyes that you never even came close to looking at him with, and a combative attitude that was exhausting, and would constantly strip away at his own self worth. 

Standing up, he saw your guarded expression as you barley blinked or moved only for it to look like her smug smirk that mocked him relentlessly until he was exactly what she wanted. “Spending every night having to put my own direwolf between us beacuse she’d spend the whole time trying to get close to me, mocking me for never sleeping with a woman just because it was the one string she could pull at and get a reaction? Are those the things I should have fallen in love with?” 

You didn’t know these things, and he knew that. 

“Or was it when every single person in their camp wanted me dead and the only way I could protect my own life, was to send Ghost away because I knew he’d never let her near me if he stayed? Or how the only reason I even could stand touching her was beacuse I kept seeing you in my head instead?” He was right in front of you by that point and you hadn’t moved what so ever. He wasn’t even sure you had blinked. “That’s the person you think I should've fallen in love with after you? A girl who didn’t respect a single thing about me, and was only letting me stay alive beacuse she took everything I had left to defend myself and made me fuck her against my will.”

He never said it out loud like that, and as soon as he did, Jon felt something twist inside of him he did not like. Something that felt sickening. And as you looked at him with soft eyes that he wanted to fall into, he instead let his head spin and skin feel filthy. 

You softly muttered his name, “Jon..”

Jon had refused to let himself come any closer. Turning around and running a hand over his mouth looking at the floor before you. “Ygritte took everything from me that I always wanted to give to you, and then had me tricking myself into thinking it was real only as long as it kept me alive. And while I was lying to myself about being with her, you and Robb were murdered. When I finally got away, I tried to play off her feelings and say she wouldn’t hurt me because she loved me and it got me shot full of arrows and dreaming about you in a pool of your own blood only to wake up and find out it was real.” 

Clearly you were trying to keep an even tone in your whisper. “Why not tell someone the truth?” 

He glared at you, when you didn’t deserve it voice deep as it rasped out, “No one would believe me. A man of the Night’s Watch letting a wildling girl take advantage of him? The only person who would’ve cared about any of it was dead, and when I finally get her back in front of me, she tells me I’m wasting my time trying to love her again. You think that makes me feel good?” 

You bit your tongue, and Jon hadn’t quite grasped until later that it was your own nightmares flashing through your mind, showing exactly why you weren’t worth someone like him. You had always held him in a higher regard then he thought he deserved, and he knew you were still doing it now. Only now it was with a lot more pain. 

“I wasn’t trying to..I didn’t know..I’m sorry.” 

It was tense in the air, and something needed to break before it all was thick enough to choke on. Jon did it first as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Neither of you looking at each other. “I know you loved Robb, and he loved you. I wanted you both to and I’m happy you loved each other when you had the chance. But I never wanted to love anybody but you, and I never will. So don’t stand there and tell me I deserved to love someone who stood against every kindness you ever showed me.”

You could only whisper you were sorry, before you walked out. And he hadn’t seen you until morning, a stiff, steeled expression in your eyes and posture. Jon felt a lot of regret, you didn’t deserve to be yelled at for the things Ygritte did, but you were nothing if not an expert at avoiding him these past days. 

And it wasn’t until you two walked up to the Keep of Bear Island did he feel like he was slowly getting a bit you back. Now as he looked for you, natural instincts told him where to look. Along the edges of the Keep closer to the water where the setting sun lay and brushing storm clouds were swooping in from. 

You always liked cliff sides and water’s edge. No doubt a time from growing up on Dragonstone, and so Jon begun searching along each corner for you, trying to run around in his mind figuring out how to ease you into an apology. How to make it better for yelling at you, even though a sinking part of him had a feeling that you would just forgive him without question. 

Not wanting to risk making him mad, and he could only angrily think of how cruel Ramsay was to you to try and beat that little spark and tough fire inside of you down to nothing like this. And how he would even begun putting that flame back like you deserved. You brought Jon back both in life and spirit and he wouldn’t stop until he did the same for you, no matter how you chose to accept him in your life anymore. 

Rounding one corner is when he spotted you, leaning back with your arms crossed against a pillar near a set of stairs as your eyes were trained hard on the road in the distance. Slowly Jon came up just behind you, seeing the horses in the distance and the galloping of what sounded like a fair number of them. “Where are the others?” 

Glancing back to you, there was almost a hint of anticipation in your eyes that for a moment almost looked childlike. It was strange, both of you so far away having found something of different companionship in the two eldest Mormonts. Leaning his head a bit closer to you, rumbling a bit quietly in your ear. “Hopefully making sure Tormund doesn’t scar Lady Lyanna for life.” 

You smirked a small bit, your mood having lightened somewhat since arriving. Even from what he could see, just being on the ship sent you at ease more. “From what I’ve seen I’m not sure there’s much that scares any of them.” 

“There is one thing.” His voice low and serious, you both glanced to each other in a knowing that convincing these people to fight a war against their enemies is one thing. Making the rest of the North believe in the rest was another. 

Your eyes softened a bit looking at him before you seemed to realize how long you had been, fluttering them back to the growing distance. “You were impressive back there. In that meeting. Leadership suits you.” 

Unlike you, Jon felt no need to hide the returning look to you and keep it there for far longer then would normally be considered appropriate. “I’m glad someone thinks so.” Your posture stiffened for only a second with almost panic swirling in your eyes before letting it deflate in a shaking exhale Jon knew you were hoping he didn’t see. 

The numbers that gathered were easily groups that were in the hundreds. The woman in front climbed down from a great horse, standing tall and large in stature with a harsh face that squinted as she looked up to both of you before settling on your own person. 

Ascending the stairs together, Jon watched the woman look you over before a great smile came over her. “Gods be good, the rumours are true.” You stood a few feet away from her with as much composure as you always had before the larger woman came forward closer to look at you closer. “We never thought you’d be a face we’d ever be seeing again, your grace.”

Only in a single second, the larger woman barrelled you in a large hug, one that she almost laughed into and Jon could see something tight and relieved in your own grip. Pulling you back by your forearms as she looked at you, Jon clearly seeing a smirk plastered on both almost like family. If he were being honest, it felt like a reunion you should have had with your actual mother. 

The woman with such a casualness, “And you still look just as shit as the last time I saw you.” 

Your tone was light, something much more like a genuine smile coming over the rest of your face as you breathed out from a laugh, “Happy to see you’re still around to keep all those beasts at bay.” As you leaned in for one more embrace, you seemed to have whispered something to her as when the woman turned to look at Jon, there was already a realization in her eyes she was keeping to herself as you stepped back between them.

Her gesturing towards him with her head in a playful glint. “Now, you going to introduce me to the handsome lad or what?” 

Coming closer to accept her now outstretched hand, “Jon Snow, my lady. I’m-”

The casual interruption with what she already knew already reminded him of the Old Bear. So nonchalantly would toss information at him Jon didn’t even know how the man found out. “I’ve heard all about you. You’re Robb Stark’s brother.” Stepping back he nodded as she glanced at him with a curiousness in her eye. “You also served under my brother up at the Wall.” 

“I did. He was a good man, deserved better then how he died.” 

You seemed to glance between them with a narrowed expression before turning to Maege with a more steeled expression once more. “I will go let your daughters know you’ve arrived back. Bring your men here up to speed while I’m at it.” 

He didn’t say anything, but there was a look in Jon’s eye trying to pull you back to him. To stop you from running away but as you ascended the steps with a few of those who rode up with some familiarity, Jon was beginning to think he was going to have to corner you to just get you to stay in one place. Not realizing he had been watching for far too long as Maege stepped closer to beside him. “Now I know it’s not me that woman’s running away from.”

There was a curious pointed look in her eye that Jon didn’t respond too. Trying to speak through a vaguely nervous tick of clearing his throat. “She’s been through a lot, still adjusting to some things.” 

Maege hummed as she looked at him for another moment before beckoning him to follow her up the steps. “It know too well it won’t help much, but I’m sorry about your brother.” His eyes flickered to the side to a knowing distant pain in the older womans. “Hearing your brother got butchered by his own men thousands of miles away from where you could even try to help. Awful way to die, awful way to find out they died.” 

Turning down a path to overlook the waters you likely had just been waiting around she added, “Though, you two also know what that feels like first hand don’t you?” Jon’s heart skipped a beat under the hole above it to remind him. A bit of a chuckle left her at the rigid response given. “Brother was Lord Commander for a long time, I still know men there who keep me in the know. Should I even bother asking how either of you survived or is that why our jumpy Queen there seems so keen on not looking at you?” 

Jon swallowed harshly, looking down as his palms braced gently on the stone wall in front of them brows narrowed. “I don’t know how she did it, or if she’s even sure it was her. But I’ve seen her scar and I know there’s no way she didn’t bleed out in minutes.” His voice was rough, and his chest felt heavy at the delirious dreams as he was unconscious seeing it for the first time. “Or why I’m walking around after getting a knife shoved in my heart, but we’re both here and we know as long as the Boltons are allowed to control the North we can’t protect anyone when they come.”

If there was only one thing that could truly haunt Jon in such a dread filled way it was that day. The sight of just how many free folk stood up beside the Others with glowing blue eyes. Staring one of them down feeling as cold and hopeless as ever, knowing that he could cut down as many as them as he could but with the numbers they awoke? If the North stayed this torn apart, Jon wasn’t going to be able to protect anyone. 

All that was between them was the splashing of water against the rocks before she spoke up, quiet in tone but with a deeper conviction. “We all followed your brother into war before he he fought his first battle, chose him as our King after the Lannisters murdered your father. Because we believed in him. You lead these men and reclaim the North? They’ll follow you no matter what comes for us beyond that Wall.”

This was why you warned him, it was inevitable. “I’m not here to ask anyone as a King-”

Confidence seeped into her voice. Looking at him with a knowing glint that reminded Jon all too much of the Old Bear. “The King didn’t name you his heir against our will. The two of them came to us with no arguments. You’re Ned Stark’s son and you were his brother and that was all he needed be sure he wanted it to be you. They both did. They both knew you deserved what he had and if none of us thought the same it wouldn’t have been such a damn quick meeting to sign off on it.” 

His heart screamed heavy at him, jealous of Robb for so much, for so long that the mere idea that in the end he wanted Jon to succeed him simply because they were brothers put a stop in his throat. Not arguing of politics or duty, but that he wasn’t just forgotten at the wall from his brother. He had missed Jon as much as Jon missed Robb, and in his death only could find one final thing to give to his brother hoping to bring him back home. 

It was a weak argument, and she sniffed it out right as he said it. “You still have her, she’s still your Queen to follow.” 

Maege smiled at that. “Aye, but she doesn’t want to be our leader. Knows as well as I do that no matter what people try to say, she isn’t her father. Holding that weight up by herself is too much for her, and I could take a guess what sorts of things the Boltons did to her, I think leading us all on her own would crush her. She and your brother worked so well because they were a team. She trusted him much as he did her to the point it’s easy to forget she’s not even a Northern sometimes.” 

But what kind of King could Jon ever be compared to Robb? He couldn’t imagine any kind of admiration as he knew Robb had earned from these people, he was ready to lead them into a war of survival but somehow taking up Robb’s mantle as King was the thing that felt daunting. 

But it’s what Robb wanted, and he knew it was what you wanted. You just refused to push him into something not knowing if he wanted it. You never pushed him into anything he may not want.

“You didn’t name Robb a King until he started winning battles. Least I can do is wait and see if I win my own this side of the Wall before I start thinking I deserve it.” Maege laughed, something under her breath muttering about you all being stubborn and he had an inkling he just may have started to sound like Robb himself. 

There was quiet for a breathe, before she turned tune. “Alright, enough of that. Let me see it.” 

Jon looked over to her with a confused expression before she nudged him on the arm, gesturing to his side. “The sword. Been some twenty years since I laid eyes on Longclaw, let me see the wolf.” Pulling it out from it’s sheath, Maege grabbed the hilt from him with a bright look. 

The smile was wide as she turned the wolf head around to take it all in. “He made it after your own direwolf, he said. What’s his name?”

Jon nodded, a small grin on his own face looking over the hilt himself. “Ghost. When we found the direwolves, he was far away from the others, so quiet he never even made a sound. I have no idea how I even heard he was there.” His own memory fading back to when he first got Longclaw. Showing Ghost the hilt remade, and telling him with a grin how it was him. Even apart now only by a few miles of sea and land he found himself missing him.

Maege looking over the red jems as eyes with a fondness. “Gods, it is good to see this thing finally getting some use after all this time.” Starting to hand it back to Jon, it seemed he made a mistake with what he said next. 

“It’s an honour, being given the chance to use your families sword.” The look she gave him now really reminded Jon of the way the Old Bear would look at him sometimes. Like the way he’d look him down as if to say to get your shit together. 

She all but bashed it into his chest for him to grab. “Seven hells. Do you really think that man went to all the trouble of remaking the entire bear hilt, re carving it, finding jems for those eyes only beacuse he assumed you were borrowing it?” Rolling her eyes, there was a fondness in her eyes as she looked at him. “That sword spent over twenty years sitting up at the wall. Just mocking my brother beacuse it was just a reminder of how badly his son had disgraced this family.” 

Shaking her head, she looked out to the water. A deep memory painting over her. “We all were sure it would stay up there until he died, and then it would just sit here in the Keep like some ancient artifact. But instead, he saw something enough in you not just to let you use it, but to give it to you.” Nodding to the hilt visible where it sat on his person. “He didn’t carve that wolf out so it could come back to us and just get re carved again. It was our families sword. Now, it’s yours. And whatever family you may decide you ever want. But don’t be fooled, Jeor gave you that beacuse he believed in you, and because you deserved it. You Starks seem to be pretty bad at accepting you’re allowed to deserve good things.” 

If the emotional punch to the gut was noticeable in Jon’s hesitant pause, she didn’t point it out. But she did something that Jon had only ever been used to from you. So casually grouping him in with House Stark without a second thought because you never really understood the point of seeing him as anything but one of them. And that was a habit Jon knew for certain, Maege Mormont could have only picked up from hearing you, even after all that time, still group him in with everyone else no matter what the world tried to say. 

You never shied away from the fact that he was a Snow, but you never once kept his identity in your mind separate from the Starks. Stannis Baratheon had offered him Lord of Winterfell to be an ally, and make him a Stark in name. Something for years he always wanted. 

And yet as you had stood there, telling him that the North, you, and that Robb had so easily decided they wanted him to be King in the North if anything happened to him. And that not once in that offer did you ever push him to take it, or that you wanted him to be anything but who he is. The fact that becoming a Stark wasn’t part of Robb wanting Jon to be King, he thought to himself, meant more then being made a Stark by someone else. 

Because Stark or not, to Robb, Jon Snow was his brother no matter what. And being King after him didn’t require a formal deceleration of becoming one of the family. It was strange for Jon at this point in his life to realize that the brother Jon always thought was better and got a better deal in life, truly loved him with no hangups or clauses attached to it. 

It was a Southern King that said only Jon Stark could be Lord of Winterfell. But it was his own brother who wanted Jon Snow to be King in the North after him. 

And for some reason, all Jon could think to do in that small moment by himself, was to smile. It was always odd in his heart how much you had always seen Jon for exactly who you knew he could be, but it was a whole other thing to start realizing that the North he grew up in, just might be coming to that same conclusion as well. 

But as he stood there, the storm clouds still debating amongst their own if it should bring rain over the setting sun, he thought of almost nothing but Robb. He wasn’t there to protect him when it mattered most, but Jon knew he needed to do more to protect what of Robb’s was left. 

Wherever his brother was now, Jon hoped that Robb trusted him with his wife. Because in the year since losing him, Jon knew you were left in a confused insurmountable amount of grief and pain that was only soaked in more blood and new torture. Leaving you in a darkness all alone, and someone needed to force you out of that pit before it took you away again forever.  

You trust me with your kingdom, his silence spoke. Eyes slipping closed as he stood in the quiet, hoping Robb could hear his prayers. Now please, trust me with her heart. She fought in a war beside you, but this time, someone needs to be the one to fight for her, someone needed to stand in front of her, and tell her it’s okay to let me protect her. 

You kept away from Jon because you were terrified of forcing things or feelings onto him that your tormented mind worried would no longer exist. But this pain between you was all out in the open now. You were honest and so was he. You needed someone to protect you instead of forcing you face these demons all on your own.

Jon hoped the crashing of water against the rocks, and the cold wind swirling around as it flew through his thick curls, was Robb answering his prayers with his blessing. Because Jon was going to do it anyways. 

Walking to where you were to stay for the night, you felt mentally drained. The Mormonts were far too lively of a bunch to handle in your current state, and too many questions, looks, and stories being thrown around. Already before even reaching the door, you begun unlacing everything with the intent to throw it all on the ground like a petulant child. 

But as you slipped into the door, you could see Jon leaning against the wall of the cozy room by the window. Your mind noticing the long grey shirt you normally never saw under the black and leather atop it, with some of his other things gently draped along the desk. Pausing without closing the door, you narrowed your eyes “I assume I’m in the wrong room.” 

“You’re not.” 

His voice was deep, but steady as his grey eyes were bright looking to you. Slowly you shut the door behind you, a confused furrow in your brows as you looked at him. Jon watched you with something so much softer then anything the past number of days, a look he was unafraid of letting you see in full opposed to the heavily guarded state you were still in. 

Taking only a few steps in at a time, you slowly placed your own sword down beside his against the wall before finding yourself not knowing what to do. “Am I allowed to ask why in a place this big I can’t be trusted with my own room?” 

Jon’s chuckle was deep, and a small smile full of a fondness as he met you more in the middle. Even as he was dressed down, and you still dressed properly you felt small in comparison. “Maybe you just can’t be trusted to get a decent sleep all on your own.” 

A lightness in your chest burst out before you could even contemplate the playfulness in your eyes as you said it. “Funny thing to say, coming from a man who used to barley manage getting more then five hours half his life.” 

He watched you for a second, stripping you down of those barriers without a word before gesturing for you to put your back to face him. Not considering that you just followed that silent command without any question until his hands gently started to undo the rest of your outer layers. Trying to look back at him confused, “I can do this part just fine, you know.” 

The hum in your ear sent a small shiver down your spine as he rasped. “So why are you letting me?” You could see the edges of his curls in the side of your vision but you had no answer for that other then to stand in the quiet and let him. 

When you were just a tinge lighter, Jon stepped closer, so lightly running his hands down your arms you almost felt lightheaded at the sensation. Somehow so warm against the cold of the night air, your body relaxed enough to find the courage. “Jon, about the other night-”

You almost gasped, feeling his chest press closer to your back, his voice rasping but soft, hands soothingly still running up and down. “Don’t apologize. You asked me a question, and I yelled at you for something you couldn’t possibly have known. You didn’t deserve that, so let me be the sorry one.” A weight in your chest sunk down, a sting behind your eyes as you nodded. “Good. Because I want you to listen to what I’m about to say.” 

He was braver then you, but if you weren’t such a coward, you’d be temped to reach one of your hands to to grasp his. “Okay.” Only a breathless whisper came out. 

Jon’s voice was as full of something heavy as you could feel in his heart. “Robb doesn’t want you to feel this alone. You loved each other, and you always will but he doesn’t want you to hate your life after him.” His hands stopped moving, but one of his thumbs continued to run across the fabric over your arm. “And you are not ruining my life by being here. I never thought I’d get the chance to even see you again, but now we’re both here. And maybe the gods wanted it that way, maybe it just is the way it happened to work out by chance but I can’t just stand back and watch you try to push me away because of what’s broken up here.” 

One hand moved to gently tap at the side of your head, as you tried to pull away at the sensation. Only as you reached back to instinctively swat at his hand, Jon caught it in his, bringing it down to wrap your arm across your stomach still holding onto it, and pull you closer to him. “What I said, about you being with Ygritte I never would have....had I known I wouldn’t have never suggested it.” 

Jon nodded against the back of your head, “Well now we both know. That’s what you were doing earlier right? Laying our cards out on the table for them to see, make sure they understand exactly what they would be getting into?” You nodded, your heart speeding up a bit. “I thought I lost you once, but this time I’m never going to stop fighting for you. You deserve to have someone who loves you, but if you don’t want it, if you don’t want me like this,” The hand on your arm sliding up gently to trace over the sensitive skin of your neck as you shook out an exhale. “I’ll never push you for anything, but we cannot hide from each other anymore. You need to tell me if you don’t want this, but not beacuse you think you don’t deserve it or because you wrongly think I don’t want you.” 

You felt ready to cry if you were being honest, he made this too easy. To slip into a need to be close to him and not want anything else. “I will always love Robb,” Jon nodded as your eyes fluttered shut but when your heart didn’t steady you had to say it anyways. “But that never stopped with you, either.” 

His hands on you tightened the slightest, as you let out a small sigh when his lips so gently pressed to your neck. Jon’s tone husky as he spoke into another gentle kiss, “Will you let me do something for you? Is it alright if I make you feel good?” 

Heart about to explode, your mind so lightheaded you could pass out. Not sure if you could handle the roughness like that one night, not sure if it was a wolf at all you could take but you nodded. You trusted Jon. 

He didn’t push you further, he wanted to be gentle it seemed. Running his lips so gently over your neck without ever pressing any firmer, and his hands didn’t grow rough in their touch as Jon gently pulled back enough to pull your shirt up and off your chest. 

Dropping it where it lay, you shivered from the cold as he reached both hands down past your breasts to slowly run along the edge of your pants before pushing you to the bed, “Sit down for me. Let me take care of you.” 

As you turned to sit, you could see the grey in Jon’s eyes was dark enough to look almost black as he carefully pulled the material off your body. Kneeling down before you as you were perched on the edge of the bed, he ran those same eyes all over your body with an intensity as you sat bare before him, still totally dressed. 

Gently, your hands reached out. One running along the edges of his curls before dancing across the scratchiness of his facial hair, the other finding his shoulder as you sat up straighter. Your breaths growing in heaviness as you both watched the other carefully. Jon finally returning the gesture, running both of his hands along your cheeks before leaning up. 

Your lungs stopped in the swiftness of the movement, your eyes fluttered shut only he didn’t close the gap. Only traced the length of your nose with his, keeping you so close you could feel his breathe until he could sense the nerves simmer back down inside you. Both thumbs running over your cheeks as he exhaled shakily. “Doesn’t seem real sometimes. Being allowed to have you this way. Spent all my life knowing I’d have to give you up and it never got any easier.” 

Your hand ran through his hair more like a comb, nails raking smoothly along them but never tugging at each more wild tangle. Keeping his forehead pressed to you. “Do you remember what we talked about, that last night in front of the Weirwood?” Your brows narrowed trying to recall it, as you unintentionally drew his attention away as your nails scratched his scalp more. Jon pressed into you further, a distracted but satisfied hum deep in his chest almost like that of the wolf usually found at his side finding his voice again. “Talking about how we’d meet in a different life?” 

Slowly, Jon started to move his hands down. Keeping just as close knelt before you, but slowly letting his hands run down your neck and over your shoulders as his voice was a gentle rasp. “We were way off, weren’t we? Castle Black is a far cry from Highgarden.” Tracing his fingers over the sides of your breasts you tensed at the spark of touch, “It’s also far too cold to be summer. But maybe this as good of a new one as we will get.” With a touch as light as a feather he ran his thumbs over both your nipples, almost jumping at the feeling. 

Your eyes opened to drift down to his shirt, the edges just far enough that you couldn’t see the mark over his heart even though Jon could see the one on your stomach perfectly. Your eyes slipped back shut however, as his rough hands more fully grasped at your breasts, and the spark underneath swam more throughout your body and into your blood. 

Sighing out high pitched, one of your hands slipped from him to grasp at the sheets below while the other wrapped more around the back of his neck into his curls. The movement naturally pulling your chest better up to his own level so one hand of his reached to hold steady at your hip before moving back to the task at hand. Opting to press his lips lightly to your collarbones. 

Moving down slowly until the hand on one breast twisted so he could pull your nipple between his fingers as his mouth gently nibbled at the other. Your gasp far louder then the quiet of the room but it only spurred him on to bite a little harder, the other hand twisting a little firmer. 

His last touch was so desperate, so raw and rough, that you felt dizzy in his arms this time around from how almost teasing it felt in comparison. Groping a little greedier as his lips found the same path until you let out a needy hiss at a harsher bite. Pulling back though, you gripped his hair a little tighter at the loss but Jon only gently shushed you. “Lay down for me,” Trying to move to the main part of the bed he pulled you back by your hips, climbing up only enough to push you to lay down where you sat. Legs dangling off the side of the bed. “No, no, stay just like this, right here.” 

Kissing your neck gently you couldn’t tell if he was trying to be soft with you or if this was just a true cruel tease to draw out on your body. “Jon,” Holding back a whine as he let his mouth trail back down to your breasts this time with more soothing presses of his lips and tongue to soothe the stinging bites he left. “Can I-”

“No.” Your eyes shot open in surprise, but he only moved finally down between your breasts to kiss along your sternum. His facial hair scratching along your skin, the rawness mixing with his gentle touch making you want to whine. Barley letting his lips leave your skin long enough to speak. “I don’t want you to do anything,” You could have cried a how lightly he ran his lips along the scar before pressing a kiss to the very top of your mound. “I just want to taste you.” 

You swallowed heavily, his hands moving to your thighs as you felt a strange beating in your heart like nerves. “I don’t..why would you-” 

Trying to soothe your nerves he rasped, “We’ve done this part before, darling.” You could remember the feeling, but it was so sudden, so animalistic you could barley comprehend it at the time in between the shock of him even standing before you. “Am I the only one to ever do this with you?” When you nodded, he kissed the same spot before kneeling on the ground where you could feel his breath between your legs. 

Jon kept it to himself, but he felt proud of himself for still being able to find ways of being your first after all these years apart. 

Slowly moving your legs to rest over his shoulders, Jon grasped at your hips to keep you steady before kissing a path up your inner thighs. One side, then the other as you let a needy whine out. Jon never once wavered, keeping his mouth always attached to something between your legs until a small kiss was left to your clit. The second you cried out at the feeling, the desire spilled over for him. 

Jon sucking your clit with his own need this time, before moving to run his tongue flat down along your folds. Humming in his throat as he licked right back up as he held your arching hips in place. Eager brushes gently at your clit in between nibbling grasps between his teeth until you were shaking in around him and you were soaked from it. Those same gentle brushes of his tongue moved back down, and finally letting him move his mouth to your cunt as he wanted. 

This time, it was a bit more as you recalled. His facial hair burning between your legs as he kissed and licked inside of you. Only instead of a starving, vicious wolf, he was licking and drinking everything you granted his mouth as if between your legs was treasured oasis crafted only for him. 

Your head fell back into the sheets as you moaned, small whines along with it of his name as your hands grasped the sheets beside you. Between your own breathlessness, all that was heard in the room was the soaking sounds of Jon’s tongue inside of you. 

Never rushing it, never even trying to push you to an orgasm. Only drinking between you with a slow, steady pace that had you trying to not let tears fall out from how good it felt. Letting a hand dance up to gently run though his hair, he held a bit tighter and made what felt like a vibrating growl into your cunt at the sensation you tested the waters and did it again, to the same reaction. 

Moving your hips to pull more into his mouth you were almost lifted slightly above the sheets as you cried out, the core inside of you burned so hot and twisted so tight but he just kept such a slow pace, such a leisurely taste that it never reached it’s peak just when you thought it may.  

Your breathing almost a faint hyperventilating as you almost couldn’t get any air he pulled it all right out with each brush of his tongue that ran along such sensitive walls. His nose nuzzling against your clit that had you cry much louder, back arching more but he just ran his tongue inside of you greedier then before. 

This was for you, but it also was for him truly. 

You weren’t really sure how long he kept you there, but it was a while. Quite a while, like he couldn’t stop himself from leaving between your legs. Each time you were poised at an orgasm he would pull back, slow down until you calmed down in his touch and once more his mouth would return to licking you back to that peak and take it away again. You already had lost count how many times he had done it.

It was long enough that even in the cold air, you felt a sweat forming over your body as you knew there too were tears at the side of your eyes spilling over. “Jon, please, gods please you’re so good..” 

You weren’t even sure what you were saying but it made him shudder against you. Finally, in what felt like the slowest growth of your orgasm yet, this time as Jon’s mouth and tongue coaxed you to that edge he let you fall off it. Your core snapping with a pleasure of only his name and his arms keeping you pressed firmly against his mouth. 

You writhed against him as the sparks jolted your entire body and he just kept between you, taking everything you gave him with greed until you were jumping at the stimulation. Finally, Jon pulled away, kissing your clit, then your mound and once more your scar before leaning up over you. 

Hovering just above, his eyes were blown wide open and pitch black, his own lips swollen and soaked as just looked down to you. “Jon..please..kiss me?”

Eyes closing, he shuddered before shaking his head no. Swiftly moving up the bed, Jon pulled you into his arms, laying more on his side and keeping you cuddled into his chest while you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. His voice was raspy and deep, northern accent strong and thick as it slurred together into your own neck. “If I kiss you now, I’m going to lose it.” 

Running your hands through his hair, your brows narrowed. “It’s okay-”

“It’s not okay.” Sighing out as he clearly was trying to keep something contained as you only cuddled in his arms, him trying not to push you right back down and let his cock fill up your soaked cunt that very second. “Rest for me, darling. Just for tonight.” If he was talking to you or himself, it was difficult to tell as he mumbled into your hair, “I’ll always take care of you.” 

It was easy to fall asleep in his arms. Jon was warm, and never once let you out of his grasp. Keeping you in a safe bubble only encompassed by him. 

Jon wasn’t lying, he knew if he kissed you while you were bare in his arms, in a bed after already having spent well over two hours tasting you? He would have shoved you down onto the bed, spread your legs wide and fucked you deep, as many times as it took until he had absolutely nothing left to spill inside of you, but he wanted to take his time. He already took you like an animal, now he wanted to ease you back into it with a tenderness, with love. 

Despite trying, he, himself didn’t sleep very much that night. It was hard to sleep when he was too busy enjoying how soft and pliable you were in his arms. In your sleep, your hand drifted up to rest along his heart and he pressed a hand there to hold you against him gently. Kissing your hair once more before giving himself a chance to at least try to get some sleep. One thing had not changed since your early years together at least. 

It still took an immense amount of will power for Jon to treat you with a gentle innocence when you made the wolf in his blood run hot and possessive at all times. 

[justporo]

Revelations

A Night of Fake Smiles and Hidden Lies: Chapter 10

As the joy and their love still echo through each other, Astarion sweeps up Tav for another dance - that makes them reminisce about all the things that might have been and be thankful for all the things that are.

Author's Note: Three months... It took me three months to get back to this - I am deeply sorry but life - you know. I have however this and four more chapters already drafted ready for you - and there's still more to come so I hope you're ready to jump back into this adventurous night with Astarion and Tav, start the night anew or maybe get lost in it for the first time? Anyways, I hope really hope you enjoy a chapter of a lot of emotions and banter - there's quite some more stuff to come!

Songs: Serenade for Strings in E Major - Antonín Dvořák (and also that's their second waltz)

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

Warnings: none

CHAPTER LIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER |NEXT CHAPTER

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You could have just stayed like this for the rest of your days: Astarion’s arms firmly holding you while the world blurred around you completely with your head thrown back and you dancing together until the world would fall down.

Your vampire being your single focal point, the one thing to always return to, the only thing you really ever needed – while the rush of the dance and the prickling sensation of having drunk just a tad too much gave you a feeling of pleasant light-headedness. Life could be so easy, so beautiful.

The waltz went on forever with you and Astarion beaming broadly, drunk on love, champagne and each other. And yet the dance ended all too quickly.

When an enormous crescendo began announcing the end of the waltz you lifted your head up again and grinned broadly at Astarion who was still rushing with you over the dancefloor as if he’d never done anything else in his life.

His red eyes were so open, the smile on his face as genuine as you had ever seen. A look that could almost make you believe that it had truly always been like that: no two hundred years of torture, just this perfect, gilded vision of a happy life.

You both knew it wasn’t true – but for this moment it was more than enough.

Horns in the orchestra rose up for a grand finale. Astarion turned you even more eagerly for these last couple of rounds, an almost feral grin splitting his face. Just the pure joy of the speed with which you were almost tossed around, made you throw your head back once more. A joyous, wild, almost feral laughter escaped from your lips – caused by the simple but deep delight of feeling so, so alive. You saw it on your vampire’s face too: a power so strong his undead self might’ve been more alive in this moment than others were in their whole existence.

Astarion’s hand let go of yours and joined his other at your waist and you leaned back even more to enjoy the dizzying rush, your hands quickly moving to cover your lover’s while you were sure you had never felt this free in your life. Flying couldn’t have felt any better than this.

And the vampire couldn’t rip his eyes from his beloved, the corners of his mouth curled up so far it made his face ache as he beheld his soulmate experiencing some of the rawest, purest joy, he’d ever seen in anyone. It seemed one of the divine entities he’d prayed to had eventually answered his pleas by putting you in his way after all. Finally blessing him with a piece of paradise.

But not a single god could have even competed with you in this very moment as Astarion could barely believe the beauty of the love of his life. His feeling of wonder and glee not second to yours in this moment that felt almost detached from anything – your surroundings, your past, your future.

Truly a night and a moment to never forget.

With a beat of the drum the orchestra ended on a high note. Couples all around you broke into cheering and clapping while the other guests joined in. The volume quickly rising levels over what the musicians had just ended with.

But Astarion and you didn’t join in. His hands were still on your hips and his eyes on your flushed face full of happiness. Your chest was heaving heavily. Who could have predicted that dancing could be just as exhausting as going into battle (or indulging in other physical activities). Your earlier assessment had been quite right you felt like. Although of course the aftermath felt much more delightful and much less dreadful.

It did nothing to bother you though because wild, unbound happiness was still flooding through you. And you saw it mirrored on Astarion’s face as well in the way his eyes sparkled like garnets and you felt his hands restlessly squeeze and tap on your hips, his vigour barely contained.

He opened his mouth wanting to say something while around you people were still in a frenzy. But before he could get a word out you stepped forward, dragged him down by his face and crushed his lips to yours in a way you had never kissed him before. The urge to show him how your heart was flowing over with love for him in this very moment was just too strong to resist. You needed an outlet for the overflowing in your chest – your whole body!

The vampire let it happen, arms raising almost helplessly before he wrapped them around you and pulled you in closer, kissing you back with just as much force and emotion. And when you released him, detangling from his arms, his crimson eyes were wide with surprise. He almost stumbled back being released from your passionate embrace.

Astarion was flustered and obviously speechless.

It must’ve been an illusion of the low lights, but it almost looked like a slither of pink blush crossed over his face up to the tips of his pointy ears. He blinked several times while his mouth was slightly agape, and his eyes were still on you: as if he had perceived a miracle right in front of his own eyes. And maybe that was exactly what you were to him.

Well, that surely was a first.

Your giggle felt almost a little hysterical as you rode off the last waves of this incredible emotional high and wrapped your arms around Astarion as your vampire was still staring off into space in surprised but delighted bliss. Meanwhile around you the dancefloor emptied slightly while the thundering applause had drizzled out already.

“We need to do this again some time, love, if that’s your reaction”, Astarion murmured as he regained his wits slowly and reciprocated the hug slowly. You buried your face at his chest, still grinning almost maniacally, not ready to let the moment pass.

Some of the guests passing around you, leaving the dancefloor threw the two of you glances. Everyone had seen your display of heartfelt affection and that seemingly had warmed up the crowd to you. One or two people went as far as touching your or Astarion’s shoulder as you kept standing there: the very illustration of a happy, young fairytale couple.

As that thought crossed your mind you almost started to giggle again – your little ironic roleplay had maybe become just a little tad too convincing.

You lifted your face off Astarion’s chest who had let his thumbs wander softly over your arms. “Now, my prince, are you ready to get your white stallion and steal me away for our first night of passion before we get married, and I have no other task in life than bear your children and raise them while you go off to some war from which you’ll never return?” you asked him, rambling on and on with the newly found energy and placed the back of your hand on your forehead in a dramatic gesture.

The vampire’s eyebrow in the meantime had arched higher and higher the more you added to the cliché imagery of your fairytale. He grinned at you, eyebrow still raised, giving him the expression of seriously questioning your sanity in this moment. “Darling, I honestly think you’re getting just a tad too much into this,” he whispered while the party, the drinking, the chatter rose up around you again.

“Also you do know my stance on horses, sweetheart.”

You laughed and pinched one of his cheeks. You were definitely still feeling high of everything and were in a silly mood. Thankfully Astarion didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he could barely contain his own laughter as he answered you.

“But at least you put the night of passion before the marriage, at least it’s not a prude tale,” he continued, his voice taking on a sultry note while he inclined his head to you.

“But scrap the terrible, stereotypical ending, my love, I’ll happily stay right here with you for as long as we both want to,” Astarion closed, his tone now a lot more genuine again. You could only answer with a big happy smile, placing your head against his chest again.

The orchestra in the meantime had taken a short break, some of the musicians allowing themselves to indulge in a singular glass of offered champagne before they continued playing for what would surely be a very long night still.

You pulled back from Astarion a little with a sigh: “You’re right, I guess this is all going straight to my head more even than the alcohol. I guess once we’re back home I will have to spend a week in the Lower City and get shit-faced every night at Maeve’s until they let me sleep under the big bench on the floor. You know to ground myself again.”

“Ah see, there’s my little feral street cat that I love so much again”, the Astarion replied in a haughty tone – with a tinge of disapproval and teasing disgust.

You kicked him – but only slightly as you stood too close to him to get him properly. “Be nice, you prick!”

The vampire only laughed and while holding onto your slim shoulders pressed a quick kiss to your lips. The orchestra was now getting ready to start playing again. The conductor tapping his baton against his stand again to gain everyone’s attention. Another waltz was announced while you tried to kick Astarion again for being a meanie.

“You could give me just one deeply romantic moment once in a while, you know that, Astarion? Without ruining it with your sass!”

“I didn’t bring up getting drunk at this piss poor establishment someone even dared to call a tavern,” Astarion replied. You simply tried to swat his arm but the rogue took a half step back, dodging just out of your reach

“Did you really get so drunk at this forlorn tavern that they let you sleep it off on the floor?” he asked with mock worry on his face

“I won’t answer this question right now, Astarion,” you replied and let go of him to take a step back yourself while pursing your lips.

“Well then, darling,” he said and grabbed hold of your wrist before you could step away from him further. “Allow me another question then: will you join me for another dance?” The low, golden light of the chandeliers sparkled in Astarion’s eyes as he said that with his head slightly bowed to you. He was all of a sudden on his best behaviour again as you heard the musicians in the orchestra readying themselves for another piece.

In this in between moment you took a second to take your partner in again. You had been with him all night. You had seen him get dressed even but with how he looked at you right now you were just wholly smitten by him again. He looked like sin in a suit – and you were so ready to indulge again. Forgotten was the short insolent quarrel. But how could you stay mad at him for long when the look on his face and wide red puppy eyes spoke of nothing but adoration and deep affection for you.

So, when his smile and his offered hand promised you another round of exhilarating joy should you accept his offer, you didn’t even think before agreeing and grabbing his hand.

His fingers wrapped around yours as Astarion smiled happily at you and swung you around once more while the strings softly began playing a new piece.

Your vampire made you take one – or two – extra turns before he pulled you back in, arm wrapping firmly around you once more and then starting to twirl around the room again. It was a slower waltz now that fit well with how the mood seemed to have shifted from electrifying frenzy to something a bit calmer now. The dancefloor had emptied quite a bit. Many of the guests, as you noticed while turning your head around while Astarion made you glide over the polished wooden floors, were back to drinking, chatting, showing off and gossiping. And another thing you noticed: if everything had been highly polished at first, just like the gold buttons on most everyone’s doublets or the silver of amulets around necks, there was a slight general disarray noticeable. Some cravats and scarfs had been loosened, buttons opened up, lipstick smeared, and headpieces started to slide dangerously off people’s heads. All which was going hand in hand with a general air of tipsiness and derailment. At this point in the night, it might’ve been impossible to find just about one person not slightly stumbling from maybe having had one or two glasses of champagne too many.

And you were pretty sure you even spotted at least one hysterically laughing tiefling lady sipping directly from a huge, heavy-looking bottle – having to use her other hand to even get it lifted. When another turn took you around again, you spotted her once more – and realised that it was the woman who’d been involved in the group from earlier. Apparently, she had dodged her cheating husband for a good bottle in hopes of something less treacherous – good for her.

Your gaze snapped back to Astarion, trying to find out if he had spotted her as well. And you knew he had when you saw his wicked, almost vicious smirk as he pulled you in a little closer with his hand on the small of your back. He sighed abruptly and dramatically while his face formed to a mocking expression mimicking disappointment and compassion: “Seems not everyone can be as lucky, loving and harmonious as the two of us, my love.”

Apparently just for the timing of the punchline did your feet choose this moment to make you stumble and almost fall onto Astarion. He hissed at you.

Only his roguish quick reflexes grabbing you by the shoulders and counterbalancing you stopped you both from toppling over. He lost not a moment before picking up the pace of the waltz again while you were still recovering from the shock.

Astarion clicked his tongue in disapproval, lips pursed: “I stand corrected.”

You snarled at him and were just about to show him how ‘harmonious’ you could be when you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. Someone else that was familiar.

You craned your neck in hopes of catching another glimpse while Astarion kept scolding you for not paying attention and how you would cause the two of you to lose the image of the imposing, perfect couple if you tumbled over each other while dancing. But you were indeed barely paying attention and therefore ignored what your partner was blabbering about.

Another turn and then you saw them again: another couple enjoying the dance together. Maybe a tad slower than the two of you and a bit less fluently. And in one half of the couple, you recognised your lovely elderly lady neighbour. She was dancing with a man much taller than her small frame, elegantly clothed with long black hair, tied together at his back in a low ponytail. While they slowly and a bit sluggishly turned, you saw how young and devilishly handsome her partner was. She was beaming up at him. And just the huge, genuine smile took years off her aged face.

You couldn’t help yourself, your mouth fell open. Your gaze snapped back to Astarion once more, hoping again that he had observed what you had just seen. And surely, he had, because there was at least slight surprise and even a bit of admiration on his face – his downturned corners of his mouth and lifted eyebrows giving him away.

“Old lady still got it within her, it seems”, Astarion commented and hummed approvingly. You had to agree.

“I hope it’s not for her money or estate,” you replied. You felt how the vampire just shrugged under your hand on his shoulder. You craned your neck again to look at them. But when you saw how he as well looked at her as if she was the most precious thing, he’d ever come across you knew it wasn’t.

“I do wonder though. When they go to bed how well she’s taking it with the age differ-“, Astarion began with a wicked glint and a grin that made him look almost fiendish.

This time you stumbled fully on purpose. Causing Astarion to hiss at you angrily again.

“You’re one to talk about age difference, grandpa!” you hissed back and stuck out your tongue when he began twirling you around with more force as if he was trying to work the insolent attitude right out of you by force.

Had he called the two of you harmonious just moments ago? Apparently only if the harmony was accounted for by the way you both violently bickered with each other like an old married couple.

“Why am I even taking this from someone barely older than a child,” Astarion snapped angrily while his grip on you got a little firmer, trying to show you there would be no more slip-ups, not under his watch.

“Be happy, I’ve decided to take care of an elderly citizen, love,” you spat back but barely hiding a grin.

Astarion huffed. “You’re not simply after my money, are you?”

You snorted. “There’s barely any notable amount to speak of, is there?”

The pale elf sighed in mocking disappointment: “So you’re only in it for the love – how sentimental and very unbusinesslike of you, my dear.”

“Guess, we’ll have to do with the feelings we have for each other,” you sighed back. Astarion too gave you another dramatic sigh as well while you shared a deep look into each other’s eyes. Then you both started to laugh softly before the strings of the waltz became slower still and more melancholic, the bittersweet music making a feeling of yearning rise up in your chest.

You were focused wholly on each other again with only the music lulling you. The room, the party, the other guests swirled by in colourful but easily ignorable billows. With steady moves again now you let yourself be taken away by the feelings rising up within your chest and your vampire’s tender expression while you moved over the dancefloor once more with the elegance of water in motion.

“Have you,” Astarion began in a much more sombre and genuine tone now after a while of just gazing at each other, “have you ever wondered how it would have been? If we’d met under different circumstances? Happier ones, I mean.”

“You mean, if you hadn’t become-“ you awkwardly gesticulated around with your hand wrapped with his. He simply nodded. And you immediately understood what he was trying to say: would there have been a version of events where you had found each other without all the pain and the turmoil in between?

The way he looked at you in such a vulnerable manner now made your heart ache. You saw the cracks within him he usually did his best to cover up and hide – and that he only trusted you with to only ever see. If only there was a way to relieve him of this weight he felt.

A pained smile swept over your face: “I have.” You sighed. You had to look away for a single second.

“Although in every version I’ve come up with so far we would have crossed ways and probably would have only spared each other a spiteful glance – with me having grown up homeless on the streets and you being a magistrate with noble upbringing and everything”, you continued. And then you remembered something you had spoken about earlier that evening, your gaze snapped back to his. “And I would have probably left with your purse and laughed about how stupid you were.” A weak smile played on your lips with the weak attempt of lightening the mood again.

You saw some of the pain you felt mirrored on the vampire’s face. His gaze shortly slipped from yours as well as he seemed taken by his own imagination of an alternate meeting, another ending to your story. Then he offered you a small, slightly sad smile when he looked into your eyes again: “If only you were an actual princess, things might have turned out differently, my heart.”

“That’s a lot of ifs, isn’t it?”

Astarion shrugged and was prepared to move on from the topic, but now that he said it, there was something about it.

“Although,” you began, catching the vampire’s fleeting attention once more. He cocked his head slightly. “This might have not even the biggest ‘if’.”

Astarion’s interest was caught, his full lips forming a questioning “oh” while his eyebrows jumped up. Frankly, he seemed thankful for an opportunity to leave the territory of hurtful memories and regrets behind.

You cleared your throat, getting yourself ready to reveal something about your past you didn’t like to dwell on – at all.

“Well, I might have told you that my father was a pretty high-up elven noble, right?” Astarion bowed his head to you, waiting for the new piece of information in this, narrowing his eyes.

“Turns out, he’s actually the king of a small, mostly secluded living elven enclave in some Faerun forest – all this being part of the reason why my mother dropped me on the steps of some cloister after birth. A bastard child is one thing, but the bastard child of a king – unimaginable, not tolerable”, you burst out all at once like ripping the knife out of a wound. And just like a blade viciously pulled from flesh made blood gush from the cut, making it hurt more, you felt how a whole lot of emotions of long hidden away memories were about to wash over you.

You couldn’t hold the vampire’s gaze for a few long moments while you fought to not get swept away by hurtful, long stowed away memories. Astarion’s gaze at you softened, his thumb wandering over your entwined fingers. He didn’t fully understand what all this meant for you. But he surely knew and realised when someone was not willing to share further details about pain of the past.

If you wanted there would come a time and a place to talk more about this and what I meant for you. But the middle of a dancefloor during a big ball was neither for that.

You remained in silence for long heartbeats while you asked yourself why you had so randomly offered up this piece of information about yourself – something that you had neither thought about in a long time nor wanted to pay any mind to in the future. Where you came from meant nothing to you, only the present and the man that held you was important for you now.

After a while you had caught yourself again and you lifted your head to meet his gaze again.

“I guess that’s just what we are right now, Astarion, a vampire only having broken free from his master after two centuries and a former street kid that also barely made it as a thief”, you said with a small bitter laugh.

Astarion let his thumb wander over your entwined hands again while he pulled you in closer once more, both his hands on your back now as he still made you both turn around lazily, another waltz nearing his end.

“For what it’s worth, darling,” he murmured and offered you a genuine smile with wide, open eyes, “I’m sure you agree we would have both been happy if we hadn’t gone through everything we did to get here. But I am still very happy that I’m here now and that I get to share it with you, my heart. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

His crimson eyes conveyed his love for you as he cupped your cheek and the strings drew out a single last mournful note. Slowly your lips curled into a smile and saw it spread over Astarion’s face too – two partners in crime.

What was it even worth to mourn something that could have never been?

And you had to agree with him. You were incredibly happy for the time since you had met him, if not for the circumstances. But luckily, from there on out, things had been looking up tremendously.

Your future, you thought, looked quite golden, and with a fair share of garnets strewn across.

Taglist (DM if you want to be added please):

@spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @aurasyn @margoteve @usuallyunlikelyfox @hollowmasque @worryknotdear @wraithmaine @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06 @marina-and-the-memes @somewhatclear @davenswitcher

[thethreeeyed-raven]

Don't have the emoji for smut but I had a request that involves it: Reader isn't as experienced with sex as Morpheus is and is nervous about taking their relationship to that level; he assures them that they will get better at sexual things as they gain more experience and that he doesn't mind teaching them.

experience

the kingdom of dreams | warnings : insecurity, talk of sex, mention of past bad experiences, mention of past partners | a/n : hopefully you enjoy reading this, tysm for requesting☺️💗 | tags : @knight-of-flowerss , @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom | dream of the endless playlist

You and Morpheus had been seeing each other for a couple of months now. Your relationship was quite strange.

Usually people this far into a relationship would have done something even a little sexual by now, but Morpheus hadn't even seen you naked.

The only thing he had seen remotely revealing was your ankle (he won't admit it gave him a bit of a rush you know where).

Morpheus had begun to notice that every time he brought up the idea of sex you would completely ignore it and change the subject. Or when he would try and seduce you, you would always shy away from his touch.

Quite frankly, it hurt his pride.

Did you find him revolting?

Currently, you and Morpheus lay on his bed cuddling. None of you were saying anything, just basking in each other's presence.

His brain had been gathering thoughts and inventing new insecurities all day, it was making his head hurt.

"My love."

Morpheus' voice was quiet and soft.

"Hmm?" You replied, your eyes still shut, taking in his scent.

"Do you-" Morpheus hesitated before carrying on. "Do you not want me?"

Your body shot up and you looked down at him in shock. "What on earth makes you say that?"

"You never want me to touch you, or even look at your bare body."

The sadness in his eyes caused a terrible ache in your heart.

"Do you not love me?"

Taking his face gently in your hands, you pressed a subtle kiss on his velvety lips. "Dream, I love you more than words could ever describe. I guess my bad experiences in the past have caused me to shy away from doing anything sexual."

"Bad experiences?" Had someone hurt you?

"No one has ever really satisfied me before, everyone I've been with was only ever concerned about getting a good fuck, so I don't really know much about sex besides the basics." You shifted your gaze from him, embarrassed.

"Darling," Morpheus rose himself gracefully. "I have had many partners in the past, I do know a thing or two." A smirk painted his face before it turned into a soft smile. "I know that I'm not great at communication, but know all you have to do is ask."

Dream leaned in and pressed a fleeting kiss to your neck.

"Thank you, my dream."

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

I honestly dislike the fact that within the Graphic Novels-

That Tamarin’s scars are COMPLETELY EARSED from her design.

Within the books, Tamarin is described to have multiple scars on her neck and wings and a big scar on her underbelly, due to the fact that she bumped and crashed into many objects around her while learning to navigate her environment with her disability.

But within the graphic novels, Tamarin has NONE of the scars that she has in the books within her GN design at all. Not even ONE.

Tamarin could’ve at least had her underbelly scar kept within her design, since that’s the biggest scar that she’s known to have, or at the very least kept one of the scars on Tamarin’s wings and/or neck within her design - since smaller scars within the series were STILL kept on certain characters’ designs, like Umber’s and Qibli’s scars. But they were NOT. The ENTIRETY of Tamarin’s scars in her design are REMOVED in the Graphic Novels, despite the fact Tamarin’s scars a rather IMPORTANT and/or MAJOR part of her design!

The ERASURE of Tamarin’s character’s scars is quite icky and bad thing to do, since it gets rid of the representation of scarred characters and/or people within media.

And that it’s even known to be possibly be done scarred characters within comics and movies due to the stigmatizing belief that scars are a “graphic”, “ugly”, “scary”, and/or “gross”, to have, which is quite icky and even ableist mindset to have towards scars and people who have them.

And it honestly quite upsets me that Tamarin scars are removed from her design in the GN, because doing this to a scarred character doesn’t just remove a part of their design - but also a part of their CHARACTER as well.

Because Tamarin’s scars (indirectly) show the struggles that she went through trying to navigate and live her life with her blindness. They show the hardships of what she went through and experienced with her disability. They indirectly show how she eventually grown from her experiences of her troubles and learned how to overcome them. So much so that she is able to teach a recently blinded dragon how to fly and navigate his surroundings while being disabled at the age of 3. Her physical scars - in some shape or way - represent her physical trauma, (past) struggles, growth, and Arc that she experienced throughout her life with her disability.

So the fact that the Graphic Novel Tamarin’s scars aren’t shown, despite the fact that’s they’re a rather important and/or major part of Tamarin’s design and character - honestly is something really irritates me.

Please note that while I am neurodivergent, I’m NOT physical disabled and/or severely scarred, so anyone who’s reading this IS physically disabled and/or severely scarred in any way, feel free to add your own input of this confession and/or state if there’s anything flawed, bad, and/or wrong about this confession in a hopefully civil and/or educational way. Thanks!

Anon sent in some proof, which will below the read more.

[virtu4lplant]

Ultimate form of intimacy.

Tags : Aki Hayakawa x !fem devil reader, gore, cannibalism ?, mentions of sex, aki might be ooc.. spoilers !!!might also edit it later, the dialogue is kinda bad sorry… I’ll proofread tomorrow.. kinda tired.

(All pics were found on Pinterest. I do not own them.)

Mostly inspired by my Aki bot on c.ai and many stuff !

Note : This is my first fic ever… and I’m starting it with something quite dark ! If you have any tips or constructive criticism let me know !! I struggle with English grammar so much..

"You know… if I ever had to die before killing the Gun Fiend, I want you to eat me."

You've never forgot his request.

***

You first met Aki when you were captured by the Public Security. You're a fiend and people treated you like an object, even though you were supposed to be inoffensive to them. You were once human, and lost all the memories of your past life. This didn’t make change their minds about you.

You were assigned to live with Aki Hayakawa, a devil hunter. At first, your relationship was tricky.

"You better not do anything fishy or…" He led you to your room for the first time.

Aki is known for his strong hate towards devils, he told you later that he lost his whole family because of the Gun Fiend. That’s why he was so adamant on killing it. He was acting cold and mean with you at first, but in reality, he was just scared and confused. You were as scared as him. Why did he felt so fond and protective of you ? He didn’t even knew himself.

After a few months of living together in his apartment, you grew closer to each other. You didn’t slept in your own bedroom anymore, you always snuggled in his bed. He took care of you : he cooked diner, washed your clothes and made sure you were sleeping well.

"Come here…", you climb into his bed and he wraps his arms around you.

"Comfortable ?", he gently stroked you hair and kissed the top of your head.

"Mhmmm."

"Good."

When he comes home from work, being lethargic and covered in blood, seeing you brings him a certain sense of normalcy.

This wasn’t right. He’s a human and you’re a fiend. None of that is normal.

The first time you’ve experienced blood lust, you’ve bitten Aki on his shoulder. You couldn’t help it. It was just hurting too much.

Surprisingly, he only flinched. He didn’t pushed you away. He didn’t seem scared nor flabbergasted. It was almost like he was expecting it. Well, it was your nature after all.

Since that day, he gave you some of his blood and bits of flesh once or twice a week, "just in case" like he used to say.

At dusk, you two were one the balcony. Aki smoked a cigarette, and you were sitting on his lap, leaning in his shoulder, your eyes closed. That’s when he said it.

"You know…if i ever had to die before killing the Gun Fiend, I want you to eat me."

"Excuse-me ?" You opened your eyes wide.

"You heard me." He takes a drag of his cigarette.

"Aki… I can’t do that.. that’s.. that’s-"

"I know.", he squeezed you.

"Then why ?… "

He sighs, "I’m not going to survive much longer anyway. If I ever had to choose how I die, I’d want to die by your own hand."

"I don’t want that !"

"Shh…"

"…Hey, what if we see it like this : if you ever eat me, that means that we will become one.

I love you, you know that ?"

"…"

He smiled sadly, "You should go to sleep, and stop pouting." He playfully blew smoke on your face.

He’s strange. You’re supposed to be the predator, you should sink your teeth into his throat, sucking him dry. You’re supposed to like the sweet sounds that he would make when you start eating him. And yet, every time he gave himself to you, every time he tilted his head to give you better access, you denied him. You denied him when you were supposed to tear him apart.

Every time you had sex with him, you didn’t even felt the urge to consume him. You felt disgusted. Disgusted of yourself. How can someone like him be attracted to his predator ?

But… isn’t he right ? Consuming your lover isn’t the ultimate form of intimacy ? Isn’t the true way to become one ?

***

Today is hot summer day. Aki promised to take you to see the fireworks after work. He was taking a bit longer.. but you’re sure he’s fine.

The doorbell rang, you had a bad feeling about it. That’s weird, wasn’t he supposed to have his key ? Perhaps he forgot it.

But… inside your heard you kept hearing a voice saying :

"Do not open the door…

Do not open the door.

Do not open the door !

Do not-"

You opened the door.

And you saw him. Was that man really him ? You’re not sure. Maybe it wasn’t Aki anymore. Maybe it wasn’t a man anymore. But it looked like him.

"…Aki ?"

All you could see was the large gun covering half of his face. After a few seconds, you’ve finally understood. Aki became what he hated the most, the Gun Fiend. What a joke.

You felt tears pouring out your eyes.

***

Aki, or the Gun Fiend has been defeated. He was now laying down on the ground, covered in blood.

You were standing before him, glaring at his organs coming out of his abdomen. You were disgusted. Disgusted of yourself for finding the smell appealing. His blood smelled so good. It must taste good too. But wait… you’ve never felt the need.. the want of consuming him before. Maybe it was time. Maybe it was just nature’s way.

"…"

You crouched down closer to him. He was smiling. It was almost disturbing. You were breathing heavily, even salivating. This was bound to happen from the start. The two of you were doomed.

"Aki…"

You got closer to his throat.

"I love you, Aki."

You gently kissed it.

"Let’s become one."

Finally, you sinked your fangs into throat. Maybe he was already dead, you weren’t sure.

You weren’t just eating him. You licked his throat with the most passionate affection. You were crying, giving yourself to him. You kept and kept consuming him. Finally calming down this painful hunger. When you were done with his throat, you went for his heart. He was truly becoming yours. You bit into it.

You looked down at him one last time, making a last prayer. Feeling all of the horrified stares from your neighbours on you. But you didn’t care.

You had to go to see the fireworks, like he promised.

[leprosycock]

Could I ask what the story is between your characters? I see little snippets of it with the qnas on your twitter, but will there ever be some sort of comic aspect to it? or writing? They are so interesting to me I must ask.

thank you, i’m so happy that you find them so intriguing!! <333

their ask blog that i crosspost from is here at @ttwkyasks and information about the individual characters are here. they’ve spawned and grown and twisted quite a lot over time, but they originally came from a really dramatic and batshit insane streamer yaoi fic that i began to transform into a piece of original work. the final product will be a multimedia graphic novel that i’m working on behind the scenes, but in the meantime i’m running the ask blog to help develop them as well as i possibly can and iron out kinks in the story.

essentially the plot is about how the hayes family, for all intents and purposes, suffers from a generational curse in which their systems are damaged from a cancerous perversity and they will suffer from a taboo attraction to their own body and blood. each patriarch will poison the next unless the bloodline is completely cut off and no more haysees are born. jay hayes suffered at the hands of his father, who he loathes for poisoning him and relishing in the pleasure he got from the atrocious acts he committed. at age twenty-one, he graduated from community college with a teaching certificate and very quickly married a french immigrant, abigail, who he met at one of his classes in a drunken flurry. unbeknownst to jay, abigail had a murky past that she didn’t offer much information on and none of it really mattered to jay. he was determined to prove that he wouldn’t make the same mistakes that his father did by never producing a son, but instead living happily and domestically in a nice little house in the middle of phoenix, arizona, the complete opposite of where he’d grown up. unfortunately for him, abigail began to rapidly fall out of love with jay as he became more and more dependent on alcohol and much less intimate with her. their marriage was thrown into a brutal upset when abigail realized she was pregnant after a condom broke and jay went into a mad, anxious spiral, loathing his unborn son and loathing abigail more for refusing to get an abortion. after annie was born, abigail (who was only nineteen at the time) suffered heavily from postpartum depression and couldn’t connect with her newborn son, so she fled back to boston to live with her family and the son she actually cared about, who she had had at the age of sixteen and had been under the care of her grandparents. jay was now a single father and forced to care for what he thought was a living ticking time bomb.

at the age of eleven, annie approached jay and admitted that he’d experienced something he couldn’t recognize when a girl had stepped on him during recess. jay realized he couldn’t avoid not his nor annie’s fate for any longer and he explained the generational curse to annie, who failed to understand it and its stakes, but he did have an awareness that everything was going to change. ever since then, jay and annie have operated in very twisted, demented ways that are not remotely within the normal confines of a father and son, but instead borderline enemies, hated friends, estranged divorcees, etc etc. annie is currently dating a girl in his grade named claire and jay is dating a college boy named eva. if there’s anything else you’d like to know about them, you can always ask the boys questions at the blog :3c

[vynnytypesstuff]

Hihi!! Since requests are open, i was wondering if i could request some dating headcanons for Sun Wukong and Macaque?? Please and thank you! I hope you are having an excellent day / night <3

꒰୨୧﹒Lego Monkie Kid - Dating Hcs for Sun Wukong and Macaque 

Absolutely!! It's my pleasure, and I hope you're having an excellent day/night as well

Warnings: None

Sun Wukong

• You didn't know what to expect when you got into a relationship with the one and only Monkey King, so you were a bit surprised to discover that he was surprisingly casual. Despite his typically flamboyant nature, he doesn't attempt to go all out with extravagant dates and expensive gifts (he might if it's a special occasion). He wants to keep things simple and down-to-earth with you

• His love language when giving is words of affirmation. He loves giving you praise, compliments, encouragement, and motivation to help get you through the day. He puts so much thought and care into everything he says and it's the sweetest thing

• His love language when receiving is physical touch. He loves it when you hug him, scratch him behind his ears, pet his head, give him soft, slow kisses all over his body, all that good stuff

• Speaking of physical touch. There is soooo much physical affection with this man. One of his favorite things to do is to wrap his tail around you and pull you close to his side. He loves feeling you melt against him upon contact. He also enjoys carrying you in his arms (and ofc, it's a princess carry bc he's a bit cheesy like that)

• He doesn't mind PDA (in fact he seems to enjoy it quite a bit), so even if you're in public, he'll give you all the hugs and kisses you want if you're comfortable with it

• Expect cheesy pick-up lines/puns. He uses the classic "It looks like you've fallen for me" line after not-so-subtly tripping you with his tail

• He also likes to gently sneak up behind you, slowly place his hands over your eyes, and whisper "guess who" into your ear. He may overuse this a bit, but he loves it when you play along

• Petnames galore! He's constantly experimenting with petnames, taking mental notes of your reactions to each of them and seeing which ones work best. Some examples of ones that he's tried are "peach blossom," "sunshine," and "firework"

• He has trouble opening up to you. With his almighty status and years of heroic deeds in his resume, he's taught himself to bottle up his emotions. If he's feeling upset or anxious, he'll either work to distract himself or distance himself. It may take some time to get him to properly communicate, so you're going to have to be patient with him

• Part of him gets jealous if someone else "steals" your attention away from him. Deep down, he likes it when your attention is on him and him alone. He won't say anything, but there'll be pouting from his end. If you try to question him about it, though, he'll deny being jealous

• When you need some fresh air or a getaway from stress, he'll take you on cloud rides! The clouds are incredibly soft, so sometimes you two will take naps on them

• When you two are cuddling, he'll tell your stories of all his past adventures. He has a natural talent for storytelling, especially with his strangely impressive ability give each "character" distinct voices

• He adores going to festivals with you! Having the love of his life there makes them infinitely more fun. You two play games, buy tons of snacks, look through all the goods for sale, and, if there's music, dance together. Nights like those are always ones that you never forget

Liu’er Mihou/Macaque

• Don't misunderstand, Macaque may seem rough around the edges, but he is a HUGE softie!! He isn't very experienced with romance, meaning he may not always know what he's doing, but he does his best to make it enjoyable for the both of you.

• His love language when giving is acts of service. He enjoys doing nice things for you such as cooking for you, carrying your belongings when you're in public, or helping you fall asleep

• His love language when receiving is quality time. As cliché as it may be, his favorite moments are the ones spent with you (bonus if there's no one else around). Home is an ideal spot for you two to spend time together, as you live in a secluded area where no one can bother you

• Hear me out… Macaque being a plant nerd. When you two are on walks, he'll nonchalantly point out all the unique flowers and plants that he sees. He doesn't want to annoy you with "unnecessary information" so he'll only mention their names before moving on, but if you ask him to tell you more about the plant, he'll internally be thrilled by the chance to flex his knowledge

• Protective, not to the point where it's overbearing, of course. He doesn't want anything to happen to you. After all, you're the best thing that's ever happened to him. If he's feeling anxious for your safety, he'll send one of his shadow clones to look after you

• If you're up for it, he'll train you to ensure that you can defend yourself if he isn't there to protect you.

• He's constantly looking out for you. He wants to ensure that you're taking care of yourself. Did you get enough sleep? Are you feeling alright? Have you eaten today? It's almost impossible to get anything past him

• On the contrary, he spends so much time looking after you that he forgets to check in on himself, so PLEASE be sure to give him attention as well. Treat him to something nice (bathes are a good place to start) or tell him how much you love and appreciate him

• Surprise, he has a nice singing voice! It's low and melodious with a calming aura that helps you relax. He doesn't really sing on his own, but he'll do it if you ask him to

• He's hesitant on physical affection, but once he gets a dose of it, he begins to crave it more and more. He hadn't realized how touch-starved he was. At first, he won't say anything about it in fear of scaring you off, but he'll begin to open after some continued reassurance

• You're one of the only people who has seen him without his glamour. The first time was an accident and he hadn't meant for you to see him, but after he realized that you still loved him, he was less self-conscious about not wearing his glamour around you

• He prefers making you gifts as opposed to buying them. Cards, bouquets, food, jewelry, you name it. He wants to make you feel special by putting his own spin on everything he gives you

Hope this is good!

[gatitties]

OMGOMGOMGOMG I HAVE BEEN WAITING SO LONG FOR YOUR INBOX TO BE OPEN I LIVE YOUR WRITING!!! I wanted to see if i could request a witch reader x the straw hats??? Like imagine if Eda and Rain from The Owl House had a kid that acted like Luz. Like how she always wants to stand up for others and is kind, but also pretty innocent and naive at times. Like if Sanji flirted with her she wouldn't really understand that he's flirting.I could imagine her also having a little friend like owlberrt or at least an owl staff. Also like her mother her hair is kinda like a mini pocket dimension that she shoves things in

but instead in this universe the day unity is a day where a bunch of witch hunters come to their island and kills all of them but she somehow manages to survive. Like it would happen a few years or so before she encounters the straw hats. When she meets them it does take her a while still to tell them her full past thought. She meets them on some random island running from some local store owner because like her mother, she is a trouble maker but she's not as good at stealing. With the fact that her parents died and couldn't teach her much, all she has is old books and journals from both of them. Which mean that she's not that good at magic and messes up her spells a lot

i'm sorry if this is confusing i've just had this idea in my head for MONTHS and in crappy at explaining things D:

Again im sorry if this is to much or confusing i just really want to see your ideas of some HCs for this.

a meme for your collection (if you have one lol)

─Strawhats x witch!reader

─Summary: Some unfortunate events make you meet what you can consider a second family.

─Warnings: none

YEEEE thanks for contributing to the collection of cursed memes on my pinterest, I love it <3, sorry for the delay, I also had to look up information about the owl house because I didn't watch the series and f I changed a little how they met, sorry for that too 😔

─ Not even you know how you managed to survive the witch hunt that day, but here you are now, sailing on a wooden plank with a backpack that doesn't even have food or water but a couple of books on spells.

─ At first it was a small boat but you tried to cast a spell so that the wind was in your favor and you turned the small boat into a piece of plank, you were not a very experienced witch but you survived.

─ Your eyes lit up and you screamed with all the strength you could when you saw a ship.

─ Your first thought was to try to steal one of the emergency ships, but you ruled it out when you saw the crew, you weren't that clever and it seemed like they had nothing to do with the witch hunt.

─ The first to see you was Usopp who was fishing when you scared him to death, the others noticed you once they saw you wave your arms strangely (you were trying to do magic but nothing came out)

─ You complement Luffy quite well once you start interacting with the crew, Nami probably scolds you a lot because he asks you to do some magic and it ends up going wrong.

─ Last time you transformed Sanji's face into a trout for trying to make Luffy's portion bigger, you're lucky that the cook likes your presence, although you completely ignore his strange behavior when he is with girls.

─ You and Zoro have small competitions to keep your pride high over any nonsense, like a healthy rivalry (you both end up lost in the strangest places).

─ Probably and, despite not understanding anything about magic, Robin will help you with some spells here and there, she is a cultured woman and she seems to understand some descriptions much more than you.

─ Usopp repaired your cane when you chipped it once, you thanked him because he reinforced it so it wouldn't break again.

─ You and Chopper go out to look for ingredients together, whether to make medicines or potions.

─ Jinbe is curious about your culture and your home island as well as other sorcerers, you can spend hours talking about witchcraft with him, Franky and Brook will join in sometimes.

─ When you take the courage to tell them why you were alone with nothing and adrift, they feel a little sorry for you, If you don't plan to stay here with them, you will be welcome whenever you want and If you want to continue with them, you are already part of the crew!

─ For once you feel that you are advancing in your process of learning as a magician, feeling indebted to these pirates, you decide to help as much as you can and improve your skills even more.

[melonteee]

Did any of the Strawhats ever find about the details of Sanji's past e.g. the abuse? I think they know bits and pieces, like that Germa 66 is not a good kingdom (to put it lightly lmaoo) and Judge especially doesn't like Sanji, but I remember Luffy's anger was never really directed at them, it was more towards Big Mom and her children for plotting to kill Sanji.

The only one who probably knows that Sanji's family was abusive is still Pudding, I remember none of them really ever got the full picture.

And to be honest, that has always been one of my favorite things about One Piece. You don't need to tell your backstory to Luffy, or anyone for that matter, because in the end, he doesn't care where you come from. You don't need to explain yourself to him at all, he sees who you are here and now and he doesn't demand anything else from you, ever. I think most of the Strawhats don't know the details of each others pasts (if any in some cases), they're only shown to the reader so we can see where these characters come from and why they are who they are now. I also liked that it was up to Sanji to finally tell Judge off, not Luffy or anyone else.

OR I REALLY JUST DON'T REMEMBER IT CORRECTLY AND I NEED TO RE-READ WCI LMAO

But still, though I would've loved a scene where Sanji told Luffy everything, the manga didn't need it (I just love angst & drama lol). Also, it's so heartbreaking that Pudding is the only one he ever trusts that fact about himself and she ends up mocking him for it. WCI really is something else hngggh

Nope! Sanji never told them anything, Luffy's anger was more at the fact everyone was just holding Sanji back (and away from him lmao). Luffy didn't exactly have an anger at big mum, but he had a determination to do whatever it took to get Sanji back. I really do love that Luffy doesn't ask the "why why why" of what's happening, he can just feel something is wrong, someone needs help, and that's all he needs.

I know not everyone has experienced it, but to retell your past, your pain, and abuse, is essentially reliving it. It's hard to talk about, many people don't WANT to talk about it, and Luffy never asks anyone to relive their pain for him. That's something I appreciate so much about Luffy, that he's not looking for an explanation nor reason to help you, he doesn't need to pity you to love you, he just loves you for you. It's why when Sanji quite literally rambles about everything when Luffy says "Tell me how you really feel!", it's why when Sanji can't help but break down and say he hates his family but he still wants to save them - because obviously he feels conflicted and he must feel weak for that - LUFFY DOESN'T QUESTION IT! He doesn't ask Sanji to explain what his family did to him, he doesn't try to reason Sanji's feelings down to anything, he just says "That's who you are!"

And how fucking cathartic must that be?? For Sanji to not have to EXPLAIN himself to Luffy, for Sanji to not have to relive his abuse verbally for Luffy? Luffy will just help him, because Sanji is Sanji.

It's gorgeous, Luffy is just such an emotionally intelligent man, and I really have yet to see another protagonist quite like him.

[azyexia1]

Starry Serenity (Astarion)

Summary: You (Tav) & Astarion go on a gate within the city of Baldur's Gate.

Word Count: 378.

Pairing: Astarion & Gender Neutral reader.

Warnings: None this is just a cute little fluffy scenario :3

-

In the bustling city of Baldur's Gate, a sense of serenity had settled over the once chaotic streets. Astarion, once a vampire trapped in his own darkness, had achieved a newfound freedom. No longer bound by his vampiric nature, he and Tav, the valiant leader who had stood by his side through thick and thin, found themselves in an unexpected moment of tranquility.

On a mild evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the city, Astarion nervously adjusted the collar of his shirt. He stood outside a quaint little café, its tables adorned with flickering candles that danced with a gentle breeze. He had asked Tav out on a date, and though he had faced enemies more terrifying than he could count, asking Tav had been a feat that rivaled any battle.

Tav arrived, a smile gracing their features as they spotted Astarion waiting. Their eyes met, and Astarion felt his heart skip a beat. Tav's presence had always brought him a sense of calm, and yet, in this moment, he was acutely aware of how much they meant to him.

"Hey," Tav greeted, the warmth of their voice melting away Astarion's nerves.

"Hello," Astarion replied, offering a half-smile that he hoped concealed his jumbled emotions.

They were led to a cozy corner table, where the soft glow of candles illuminated their faces. The menu lay between them, but their gazes remained locked on each other. Astarion cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

"Ahem, I must confess, I'm not quite as familiar with dining establishments that don't involve draining blood," he admitted with a sheepish chuckle.

Tav chuckled in response, their laughter like a melody that eased Astarion's nerves. "Well, lucky for you, this place doesn't serve blood. Just delicious food and drinks."

Astarion relaxed into the conversation, and as they shared stories and laughter, he found himself opening up in ways he hadn't before. Tav listened with genuine interest, their eyes never leaving his face. It was a feeling of vulnerability he had never experienced as a vampire, and yet, he realized he wouldn't trade it for anything.

After dinner, they took a leisurely stroll through the moonlit streets of Baldur's Gate. Astarion couldn't help but steal glances at Tav, who seemed to glow in the soft illumination. They stopped by a small park, where a clear view of the starlit sky unfolded above them.

"It's beautiful," Tav said, their gaze fixed on the celestial display.

Astarion looked at Tav, his heart swelling with a mix of emotions he couldn't quite put into words. "Indeed, it is. But you, Tav, you outshine even the brightest stars."

Tav turned to him, their cheeks tinged with a blush. "You have quite the way with words, Astarion."

He reached for Tav's hand, their fingers intertwining effortlessly. "Only when I'm speaking the truth."

As they stood there, hand in hand, beneath the canopy of stars, it felt as if the world had faded away, leaving only the two of them. The scars of their pasts had shaped them, but in this moment, they were just two individuals connecting in the simplest yet most profound way.

In the city that had seen its fair share of darkness, Astarion and Tav had found a light that illuminated the path ahead. Their date was a new beginning, a chapter written in the tapestry of their shared journey. And as they gazed at the stars, they couldn't help but wonder what other adventures awaited them in this unpredictable world.

-

Again, let me know if you have any scenarios you would like me to write about this gorgeous boy.