#slave of the scorpion

[smoosie]

Brave Mira

[w3tn3t]

[2021 Mortal Kombat Movie AU]

I think Shang Tsung granted Bi-Han his immortality after he killed Hanzo & the Shirai Ryu, so this time Bi-Han adds one more thing to their agreement: his brother will also become immortal. (Kuai Liang is probably the only thing he feels something for)

He wants Kuai to fight beside him, but Kuai can't bear to see what his brother has become in action so Bi-Han convinces Shang Tsung to let him go and live his life, even if he's not happy about it. Bi-Han is capable and vicious enough to do whatever the sorcerer asks of him on his own.

So Kuai spends centuries in different countries, doing different jobs, eventually settling down somewhere in America. Maybe he owns a farm, lol. Living in a remote location would help him go unnoticed on how he's not aging. All the while, Bi-Han keeps an eye on him from afar, getting rid of people who get too close to blowing Kuai's cover, not that he knows about it.

Anyway, after Cole escapes Bi-Han for the first time, Shang Tsung decides to play dirty and has Bi-Han bring Kuai Liang into the fold. He glamors a kombatant mark onto Kuai and has him run into Sonya while "escaping" Bi-Han. He joins her, Cole and Kano from there on. He strikes up a friendship with Sonya, but it's Cole he really hits it off with. Kuai was already doubting his mission but it's getting worse every moment.

They do the whole arcana thing, and the defenders are kind of put off when he "unlocks" his ice powers, but he's nothing like the creeping menace Bi-Han is so they write it off.

Kuai does his best to support Cole as he tries and fails to unlock his. Having lived so long without regular human contact, Kuai can come off as a bit intense, but he makes up for it with how earnest and genuine he is. (Cole might be starting to doubt his sexuality, a little.)

Kano still betrays the team but he runs into Kuai when he's about to destroy the relic that keeps up the force field. Kuai has a change of heart and attempts to stop Kano, but they destroy the relic anyways during their fight. Kano gives Kuai "a chance", to keep what happened to himself as long as he won't get in Kano's way again. Afraid of what the sorcerer will do, Kuai goes with Kano. He stands by Bi-Han's side before the defenders, to the tune of betrayed shouts. Sonya seems angriest while Cole is just disappointed.

The next time he's seen again is in the final scene with Bi-Han. Allison and Emily are still frozen, but the reason they aren't completely encased in a block of ice like Bi-Han might've done by himself is Kuai's coaxing. They can still be saved by design.

Hanzo's appearance was a bit funny imo, so I'd turn that into just him "possessing" Cole to a degree, or enhancing his abilities/guiding him like Sento does for Kenshi. Even with all that, Bi-Han gets Cole into a "say your last words" position. So Cole does a bit of a BotR speech that finally gives Kuai the push he needs and he turns on Bi-Han. He freezes Bi-Han solid but has to keep at it lest Bi-Han break free. He tells Cole to tend to his family, and that he'll deal with Bi-Han.

The defenders arrive, thaw Allison and Emily and get out of there, reluctantly leaving Kuai behind. The rest goes as normal.

After Shang Tsung is defeated, Bi-Han and Kuai go missing. The good ending is the brothers' lifespans becoming normal in the absence of Shang Tsung (if they were 30 they still have like 40 years to live), and Kuai taking steps to rehabilitate Bi-Han. Maybe his path crosses with Cole again, someday.

The sad ending is the brothers perishing immediately without Shang Tsung's magic, lol

(I wanted to make Kuai the Kitana to Cole's Lui Kang but the plot had a mind of its own, lol)

[amaliasnap]

If Hollywood wasn't based in the US:

"in ancient times, a great warrior rebelled against the state and was forced into the wilderness upon defeat.

Starving and outnumbered they wasted away until only the general was left, and the warrior prayed to his dark god, George Washington, to save his life in exchange for his soul.

George Washington granted his wish and he was saved.

He and his army slept until certain events would wake him again....."

[mccromy]

Disciple Shen Yuan au.

As it's been established before, Shen Jiu is an incredibly traumatized man, who took that cycle of abuse and made it a snowball turned avalanche of abuse.

He made up survival rules that served him well as a child on the streets, but only isolated him as a Peak Lord. He's paranoid, hateful and erratic. He's well aware that he's a bad man, he sees himself as the scorpion asking a frog for a ride, and he can't see that he does not sting because such is his nature, he stings because he believes with such certainty he knows the frog will drown him. And even if he went mad and decided to be good, he wouldn't even know where to start.

We learn by example, and we're well aware of the examples to follow available for him.

On that note, now that he's Peak Lord, he recreates his own trauma as the abuser. It gives him a sense of power, and it makes things fair, because if he couldn't have a kind master, then why should they (his disciples). It would be unjust, to let them have what he didn't, it wouldn't make sense, because now that he's at the top he sees how easy it could be to not do things. He doesn't need to whip these children, to make them kneel under the sun for ours on end. But he does anyways, he doesn't derive amusement from it, but if Qiu Jianluo could just not pay attention to him when he had the choice and did anyway, why would he give his disciples the reprieve he didn't have?

And he knows what is done to cruel masters. He knows that if given the chance, those cowering pathetic creatures will turn on him.

He won't let them.

In the end, he does not regard any of them as his students. And when Luo Binghe arrives, Shen Qingqiu ends up behaving as a less predatory Qiu Jianluo; he places Luo Binghe in the role of Xiao Jiu and Ning Yingying as Qiu Haitang. And, in the back of his mind he feels he can understand Qiu Jianluo for the first time (he's wrong, the monster Qiu Jianluo was and the monster Shen Jiu became are not the same. But Shen Qingqiu always thought he understood people very well, never realizing that what he read on everybody's faces were his own thoughts reflected back at him.) because he just can't not pay attention to that boy. Because Xiao Jiu had not a moment's rest under Qiu Jianluo so why should Luo Binghe ever find relief under Shen Qingqiu? If Xiao Jiu was a thing to be used, then isn't he so kind to make of Luo Binghe a beast instead?

Shen Yuan arrives, perhaps before Luo Binghe does, but it doesn't matter. Shen Qingqiu takes this boy in after being urged by Yue Qingyuan for his lack of showing up at the disciple entrance trial.

And, from the beginning one thing is clear.

Shen Yuan despises Shen Qingqiu.

Every new disciple that reaches his peak seems eager, nervous, desperate to show Shen Qingqiu how good they are. They look at him with awe and tentative hope, as if Shen Qingqiu would ever play their game. As if he'd ever give them what they feel entitled to but do not deserve.

Shen Yuan looks at him like he knows exactly what kind of master Shen Qingqiu is, like he knows exactly what Shen Qingqiu is thinking of, well aware of what the future entails for him.

And as they perform the tea ceremony, Shen Qingqiu looks at this boy and finally understands why Wu Yanzi saw a mistreated slave and decided he was too funny to let go.

Shen Qingqiu takes Shen Yuan as his disciple. He drinks what's clearly a tea brewed to offend, and for the first time on his tenure as a Peak Lord, drinks with the intent to become a teacher.

But we learn by example. The previous Qing Jing Peak Lord might've been his Shizun in name, but in his pathetic life Shen Jiu only ever recognized one teacher.

And Wu Yanzi loved to play games.

Shen Qingqiu smiles kindly, a hint of amusement showing in his eyes. The child looks at him as if he's gone insane, and Shen Qingqiu tilts his head as if he finds it so endearing.

"Excellently brewed, Shen Yuan, this master formally accepts you as his disciple. From now on this one is your Shizun, and you'll refer to him as such. Your Shixiongs and Shijies will become your family, and Qing Jing your home." Shen Yuan has grown pale, defiance turned into fear. But such is not the face of a boy scared as he wanders in the dark, uncertain of what's ahead. That's the face of someone who knows exactly what kind of animal lurks in the shadows from the way its teeth glint under meager moonlight. His mouth's become a tight line, breathing controlled to not hitch. He looks grim, not afraid. He was not expecting this, but knows how to play along. Shen Qingqiu inclines his head in a shallow bow. "Welcome, Disciple Shen, to my Qing Jing Peak."

The boy unclenches his jaw and answers drily, "this one thanks Shizun."

Shen Yuan's voice is flat, like Shen Jiu's when greeted Wu Yanzi. Shen Qingqiu grinned just as Wu Yanzi did.

Shen Qingqiu forgets something though,

He's not Qiu Jianluo, and he's not Wu Yanzi. And he might've been right in another life, with Luo Binghe and a self fulfilling prophecy of cruel masters dying at the hands of ungrateful wretched boys.

But he doesn't know Shen Yuan is not tied to a narrative, that he can recognize a self fulfilling prophecy from a mile away and turn tail the opposite way.

He forgets Shen Yuan is not Shen Jiu.

What Shen Yuan is, is freaking out, shouting "WHATTHEFUCK WHAT. WHAT. THE. FUCK??????" inside his head.

He smells a fucking rat. And he's NOT buying whatever you're selling Shen Qingqiu!!! Ptoo ptoo!! He's going to compare whatever manual you give him with other disciple's!!! from ANOTHER Peaks!!! SYSTEM?? SYSTEM ARE YOU GLITCHING??? IS HE GLITCHING??

[Host may rest in peace knowing Scum Villain Shen Qingqiu is acting perfectly in character ^w^]

(What do you mean rest in peace, are you telling me to R.I.P?? Is he going to kill me??? This is not the two bit scumbag I was promised??? What the FUCK you mean perfectly in character???)

[He is large, he contains multitudes.]

(Is he thinking about killing me or not???)

[This System cannot answer that.]

(Throw me a bone.)

[... Scum Villain Shen Qingqiu will behave differently towards his victim depending on said victim's profile.]

(VICTIM???)

[Whoops uwu. This System meant to say disciple! Every student has different needs! A good teacher knows how to adapt!]

And thus begins Shen Yuan's life at Qing Jing Peak.

Shen Qingqiu does give Shen Yuan a fake manual. Shen Yuan compares it to every manual he can get his hands on, and goes AHA! At the utter bullshit inside the book Shen Qingqiu gave him. End ups stealing one of Qian Cao, glues the cover of a Qing Jing peak manual on it. Glues the Quan Cao manual's cover on the Qing Jing manual lose pages. Takes the fake manual to Shen Qingqiu with the intent to confront him with a gotcha! Shen Qingqiu makes worried sounds. Oh, how could this happen, how dangerous! Is disciple Shen hurt? And burns the manual in front of Shen Yuan's aghast face, effectively getting rid of all evidence. Then apologizes and, smirking, hands him a new manual.

(Cunt.)

Said manual is slightly altered, but only midway, so is more difficult to spot it, yet still managing to damage the reader's cultivation at a crucial point.

Shen Yuan uses the pages to make paper planes and, instead of throwing them, he viciously stomps on them.

(Shang Qinghua shudders at the distance and then glances around to see if Mobei-Jun is sneaking a peak through his portals again. Over a decade Shang Qinghua has been at his service and he still randomly opens a little hole in the fabric of space to check Shang Qinghua is not betraying him! If his King keeps this up he just might! Hmph! ((He won't)))

Shen Qingqiu keeps being his acidic self with everybody else, but by playing mind games with Shen Yuan he accidentally places him on the spot of most favored disciple, outshining Ning Yingying, someone who Shen Qingqiu actually likes, because when Shen Qingqiu likes someone he's not sharp and cutting with them, but with Shen Yuan he looks dotting. It's driving poor Shen Yuan up the wall.

Not only nobody believes him, but the apparent favoritism has isolated him from other disciples who, driven by jealousy, try to sabotage him. Shen Qingqiu notices this and it half amuses him, half makes him feel a strange sort of anger he cannot understand.

As a favored disciple, Shen Yuan starts to accompany him in what used to be solo hunts, and in one of every three night hunts Shen Qingqiu sets Shen Yuan up for failure, grave injury, or death if he's been too annoying.

After some time being tossed around like a mouse by his evil cat of a Shizun, Shen Yuan starts to play along. He works himself to the ground to excel in every subject Shen Qingqiu tried to sabotage him in, and aided by his knowledge as a transmigrator, he succeeds. He follows Shen Qingqiu around like a shadow, delighting in the stressed twitch of his eyebrows. Gets too into it and starts playing it up as a good little henchman. He basically goes "good one boss!" To everything Shen Qingqiu says.

"Qi Shimei claims to be uninterested in this Shixiong's affairs, yet she's up to date on every single drop of gossip surrounding him."

And before Qi Qingqi can snap at him, Shen Yuan peaks from behind Shen Qingqiu's back and chirps:

"Qi-Shigu should be too mature to try to attract Shizun's attention with such ploys! She ought to send this disciple a letter and he will make sure to arrange a private meeting for both of you!"

Shen Qingqiu hates it. But he's nothing if not adaptable.

"If Mu-Shidi is done, this master has matters to attend to."

"Shixiong, this one is worried, your constitution has been worsening these past few years and, not only as your doctor, but as a—"

"As a what, Shidi? Sect brother? Friend?" sneers Shen Qingqiu.

"As a mother?" Pipes Shen Yuan, "is Mu-shishu Shizun's mother?"

"Ah, Shizi—?"

"Such nagging can only come from a mother's mouth!"

"Shidi is not this one's mother and should mind his place,"

"Shishu should shave that moustache, too."

Sometimes Shen Qingqiu finds him funny, sometimes he needs to hurt him.

He makes Shen Yuan use his qi to strengthen his hands as he makes him submerge them inside a pot of boiling water, as "training". After a few private training sessions, Shen Yuan starts to succeed in keeping them from burning. Shen Qingqiu surprises him with a pot of boiling oil. Shen Yuan stubbornly complies and succeeds. Hands red and stinging, but the skin remains intact, if tender

Shen Qingqiu is both disappointed, and a little bit relieved. But more than anything, he's angry. Had it been him, at Shen Yuan's age, the oil would've melted the flesh off his bones.

No matter what he throws at Shen Yuan, the boy comes up top, and even if he doesn't, he heals so quickly (he doesn't know about the Qian Cao manual), and it is as if he never failed in the first place.

Shen Qingqiu ends up losing patience and whips him three years into this game. Shen Yuan is fifteen. And as he is lowered down he glances back at Shen Qingqiu from his shoulder and says, pale and shaking, "I win," and throws up.

Shen Qingqiu qi deviates.

Shen Yuan looks at him, as he bleeds and convulses and thinks about letting him die.

He crawls towards him and, with the healing knowledge he's gathered through the years, stops the qi deviation before it turns lethal.

Then he passes out.

Ming Fan finds them and runs for help.

The rumor of the Qing Jing peak lord qi deviating after whipping his beloved disciple out of sheer horror and grief spreads like wildfire. Shen Qingqiu and Shen Yuan avoid each other for a month.

What does Luo Binghe think of all this?

At first, he admired Shen Yuan, favored disciple as he was. Then he envied him, for he was the only one Shen Qingqiu never hurt.

Then he felt ashamed, for Shen Yuan was kind and worked so, so hard, he deserved to be favored. Luo Binghe saw how the others treated him, and that only made him admire him more. Shen Yuan rose above his circumstances even when others attempted to bring him down.

Shen Yuan cross referenced an older Qing Jing disciple's manual with a Qiong Ding and a An Ding peak one, and his own Qian Cao manual, and wrote Luo Binghe a personalized manual (he also learned Shen Qingqiu kept faulty manuals around?? And sometimes gave them away?? WHY???? ((Shen Jiu confiscated them during his tenure as head disciple and never got rid of them. He did give one away accidentally, but Luo Binghe's and Shen Yuan's he gave on purpose)). Luo Binghe cries and hugs his kind, beautiful Shixiong. His cultivation improves immensely after that.

Shen Qingqiu notices this, notices the new manual and Shen Yuan's, who's become his Head Disciple, handwriting. He summons Shen Yuan to the bamboo house and berates him.

At first, Shen Yuan believes Shen Qingqiu is shouting at him (he lost his patience!! Shen Yuan 2, Shizun 0!) for not letting him kill Luo Binghe. Then he thinks it's actually for defying his authority.

Then, it dawns on him.

Shen Yuan had told him Luo Binghe had enough talent to surpass him and he shouldn't stifle it. Shen Qingqiu hissed an incredulous: "Then how will you fight him off when he turns on you?!"

Shen Qingqiu was going purple on the face over the thought of Shen Yuan giving Luo Binghe the tools to eventually hurt him

At first, Shen Yuan had been offended on Luo Binghe's behalf. Then, because was Shen Qingqiu trying to sow discord between them or something?

Then he remembered that in PIDW Shen Qingqiu gave Luo Binghe a faulty manual too, that he poured tea on him after Luo Binghe earnestly told him about his mother. Remembered how when he first began his good one boss! routine, Shen Qingqiu tensed imperceptibly when Shen Yuan trailed after him. How he's come to know this man, the way his eyes glint when he is satisfied and how his hands shake when there's a qi deviation incoming. How his lips twist when displeased, and how his breathing hitches when he is in danger. He's come to know his paranoia. He's learnt to recognize the way this man wears fear and realizes that that's what he's seeing now.

Shen Qingqiu is scared.

And when Shen Yuan looks back to what he knows of his Shizun, the things he's done in this life and the other. Many behaviors who seemed erratic and unpredictable, suddenly make sense when framed by fear.

And now he realizes that Shen Qingqiu is not only afraid of Luo Binghe, but he is also afraid of Shen Yuan.

But more than that, he's afraid for Shen Yuan.

Suddenly this game they play is not so fun anymore.

It never should've been.

(It might've never been, but Shen Yuan can be just as blind as his Shizun when he doesn't want to face the cruel reality he was reborn in.)

[chiqelatasblog]

In the Middle of the Night🌙

-> Ao3 link is here.

-> Part Two is here.

Pairings : Bi-Han/ Sub-Zero x You, Kuai Liang/ Scorpion x You, Tomas Vrbada/ Smoke x You

Tropes : Slavery, Past Sexual Abuse, Canon-Typical Violance, Emotional Hurt Comfort, Strangers to Lovers, True Love, Foursome, F/M/M/M, Dark Magic, Eventual Smut

Summary : After a mission gone wrong, Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, and Tomas find themselves sealed inside a book as love slaves. Whoever discovers the book and utters the incantations within will not only become its owner but also the master of the Lin Kuei’s three deadliest assassins.

For you, grappling with the weight of a solitary life and enduring a particularly rough day, stumbling upon this mysterious book was an unforeseen twist. As you bring the book home, unaware of its contents or the events that led to its creation, the ensuing chain of events will shatter the tranquility of your world, forever altering the course of your life.

Title and work inspired by the “Elley Duhe-Middle Of The Night” song

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CHAPTER ONE : (READER)

You were enduring one of the worst days of your life.

Your alarm didn’t sound in the morning because you were too fatigued to remember to charge your phone the night before. With its poor battery life, it ran out quickly. Living forty-five minutes away from the city center, you should have caught the subway at least an hour ago to make it to work on time. Despite the pressing need for money, uncertainty loomed as you grappled with the inevitability of firing. The job, despite its dreadful conditions and an insufferable boss, stood as your best opportunity in months - too valuable to risk losing.

Although you had graduated from college with a commendable degree, the job market proved bleaker than anticipated. Your once-bright dreams faded as the harsh reality of post-graduation life set in. Most desirable positions demanded experience, yet securing experience required entry into these very positions. While a diploma opened a few doors, the conditions were often as harsh as modern-day servitude, albeit with insurance and a predictable late salary.

Your current role as a programmer at a gaming company offered no respite. Long hours in front of the screen left your eyes bloodshot, encircled by dark rings, and your neck perpetually aching. Despite the hardships, a promise to your distant family fueled your determination to stand on your own. Abandoning everything and returning home was not an option after coming this far. You had shed too many tears to surrender now, enduring the suffocating loneliness of solitary dinners in your cramped kitchen as you pursued your dreams.

Thus, with a reminder of your purpose, you hurriedly left your apartment. Despite the packed subway and the frenzied rush, you managed to trim your commute from fifteen minutes to a mere seven and a half. Yet, upon arrival, your efforts were futile. Summoned to your boss’s office, you were promptly instructed to collect your belongings and leave the company, denied even the opportunity to provide an explanation.

You were keenly aware of the disdain your boss and coworkers held for you; it was an open secret. They resembled vultures, poised to oust you at any moment. As the lone rookie, you were perceived as nothing more than a liability. Despite your efforts to avoid seeking their assistance by tackling most tasks independently, being in your first year of the profession meant there were occasions when you needed guidance or support. Yet, camaraderie was a foreign concept in this office. Compared to other workplaces, the only semblance of unity stemmed from shared breaks and lunches.

A part of you felt relief at the prospect of bidding farewell to a workplace where you found no joy. However, the dominant part, fueled by anxiety, fretted over how you would cover rent and expenses. Although you had a modest emergency fund tucked away, it would only sustain you for about a month. Urgency gnawed at you as you roamed the streets with a cardboard box containing your few office belongings, scouring for job advertisements. Picky was a luxury you couldn’t afford; you were prepared to take on any role, even as a barista or waitress, until you secured a position closer to your aspirations. Survival necessitated prioritizing money above all else.

As the day wore on, you lost track of time. With the setting sun casting a dim glow and street lamps flickering to life, tiny raindrops began to graze your cheeks and nose, soon escalating into a downpour. Despite the onslaught, you mustered the strength to suppress the curses threatening to spill forth. Rushing back to the subway, you braved the rain without an umbrella or proper clothes, mindful of the looming threat of illness. With no funds to spare for hospital bills or medication, resuming your job hunt from the shelter of your laptop seemed the safer option.

Arriving at the subway, drenched from head to toe, you collapsed onto the nearest available seat, your legs barely able to support you. With a heavy sigh, you closed your eyes, feeling the weight of the day’s exhaustion bearing down on your body. The simple act of sitting down was a luxury, a stark reminder of just how fatigued and stressed you had become over the course of the day. You rubbed your weary legs in an attempt to generate some warmth, soothing the cramps and chasing away the chill brought on by the rain.

As the subway doors slid open with a ding, a wave of commuters flooded in, filling the once-empty seats around you. Seizing the opportunity to rest your eyes until reaching home, you leaned back against the seat with the cardboard box resting on your lap. Tired, cold, and hungry, the numbing effect of the rain provided a brief respite from the stress, deserving of a well-earned nap.

When the ache in your neck became unbearable, you reluctantly opened your eyes, realizing that your stop was approaching. Glancing down, you noticed a book lying on the seat beside you, as your grip on the box was dangerously close to slipping from your grasp. Picking it up, you scanned the faces around you, expecting someone to claim the book or acknowledge its presence, but no one seemed to react. Confirmation dawned upon you, the book had been left behind, seemingly forgotten by its owner.

Although the book appeared hefty, its weathered cover hinted at years of use and handling. Despite its age, it felt surprisingly light in your hands, its once vibrant hues faded to muted tones. Adorned with a pale gold cover devoid of any text on the back, the book bore the scars of countless readings and journeys. Turning the book over to avoid catching your tired reflection on its worn and shiny surface, your lips parted in mild surprise. Three striking male figures graced the cover, their details rendered with such realism that they almost seemed tangible, despite the signs of wear and tear. Your finger traced over the hyper-realistic features with impulsive curiosity, only to retract abruptly as if scalded, suddenly aware of your surroundings.

As a sweet ache pulsed between your thighs, you found yourself unexpectedly aroused by a mere image, prompting you to shift uncomfortably in an attempt to quell the throbbing sensation. It had been quite a while since you last shared intimate moments with someone, but even that didn’t entirely account for the sudden surge of desire sparked by a simple picture. Stirring memories long buried within you, igniting a hunger you hadn't realized existed until now.

A blush warmed your cheeks as you examined the figures once more. The trio bore the semblance of warriors or assassins, albeit clad in scant attire. The man on the left possessed a sun-kissed tan, his muscular frame adorned with a large scorpion tattoo on his left arm. His black hair was artfully swept across his face, his golden mask veiling a stern gaze as he brandished a flaming kunai, its rope end poised for action.

Your attention shifted to the figure at the center, whose face remained partially obscured by a silvery black mask. Despite the concealment, a strange sense of familiarity emanated from his features, mirroring those of his companion. His complexion was pale, revealing blue-green veins beneath the surface, while his dark eyes emanated cold, dominating arrogance. Black hair, tied in a low bun with a few tufts escaping to frame his strong features. Massive biceps framed his imposing stature as he wielded a sword of ice, poised to strike with lethal precision.

In stark contrast, the figure on the right differed greatly from his counterparts. Towering slightly above them, he bore little resemblance to an Asian individual, exuding a distinctly European air. His skin was also light, and he wore a grey-colored mask covering half of his face. A thin, light grey smoke emanated from his body. His short gray hair and softer gray-blue eyes lent him a gentler appearance, juxtaposed by the lethal aura exuded by the carambite adorning his finger. Despite his softer features, his lethal prowess was undeniable.

As you scrutinized the cover, a perplexing question lingered: why would the illustrator depict warriors in such a manner if not for a romantic context? Their barely dressed and provocative poses hinted at a fantasy narrative, reinforced only by the presence of their weapons. Without them, the figures might have appeared more akin to love slaves than skilled warriors. “An intriguing choice,” you murmured to yourself, pondering the illustrator’s intentions behind such a depiction.

As you opened the book to look at the chipped pages, curiosity piqued about the contents within, you suddenly realized that your stop had arrived. Hastily tucking the book into your box, you sprang to your feet with a muttered exclamation.

“Oh, shoot!” With a swift maneuver, you barely managed to slip through the closing doors of the crowded subway. Amidst the post-work rush, the mingled scents of sweat and cigarettes engulfed you as you navigated through the throng. Minutes later, emerging from the subway, you drew a deep breath, filling your lungs with the scent of rain-soaked earth.

Your journey to home passed in a blur, your body moving on autopilot along familiar streets and corners. Before you knew it, you stood before your fifth-floor apartment, a small abode consisting of two rooms and an American kitchen. Its most prized feature was the balcony, a sanctuary where you relished summer evenings, savoring the view with a glass of wine by candlelight.

When you arrived home, it was already nine o’clock in the evening. Leaving the box in your hand at the entrance of the door, you went straight into the shower to wash away the fatigue and grime of the day, and to replenish the warmth your drenched body had lost. You lingered under the hot water until it thoroughly enveloped your body, and finally, when the steam filled the small bathroom and you felt like you might faint from the heat, you emerged, clad in your well-worn and hardened bathrobe, with a towel wrapped around your head.

Pouring the last remnants of the red wine you opened days ago into a glass, you placed it in the microwave to heat up the leftover Chinese food you ordered a day ago. As you waited for your meal to warm, your gaze wandered to the box in the corner, reigniting your curiosity about the mysterious book. Crossing the room in a few strides, you retrieved the book and placed it on the kitchen island, settling into your chair with wine and warmed food. “I’ll worry about unemployment later,” you declared, raising your glass in a toast. “Today was stressful enough, and I definitely deserve this wine.” With a sip of wine and a mouthful of noodles, you flipped open the book’s cover with your free hand, eager to have a look at what it held.

‘’What…?” You stared at the glossy golden pages, brows furrowed in confusion, surprised to find them empty. “What kind of book is this? I don’t understand the purpose.” you muttered in disbelief. The worn-out appearance of the book added to your confusion, making you question whether something had happened before it was finished.

As you reached the middle of the book, a shocking revelation left you speechless. Lines, equivalent to about a paragraph, materialized on the previously blank pages before your eyes, causing your entire body to freeze in shock. Tremors coursed through you, as if jolted by electricity, and you grasped desperately for reality, unsure if what you were witnessing was a dream. Gasping for breath, you struggled to comprehend the surreal sight before you.

“I haven’t even had that much wine—I just took a sip.” you mumbled, your voice strained with the effort to contain your rising panic. “I’ve seen enough movies to know where this is going. I’m not reading whatever’s written here,” you declared, the thin timbre of your voice betraying your attempt to stifle a scream.

You closed the cover of the book hard and attempted to get up from your chair, but found yourself unable to move. It was as if an unseen force held you in place. The cover of the book opened again, and as the pages flickered before your eyes, the one you had just turned to was laid out in front of you once more, sending shivers of fear down your spine.

“Read it,” a demanding male voice echoed in your mind, freezing you in terror. Despite your frantic desire to flee, you remained immobilized, unable to move a muscle.

“I-I was just curious about what it says. I didn’t mean any harm,” you pleaded weakly, few tears streaming down your cheeks due to the immense fear you felt at the moment. Another voice, speaking in a foreign tongue filled the air, his tone scolding but directed elsewhere, not at you.

“We won’t harm you, master,” another voice reassured, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the fear.

“Say the words aloud, and we will serve you,” urged yet another voice, prompting a realization of the three distinct voices corresponding to the figures depicted on the book’s cover.

“W-What the…! Are they…”

“Yes, that’s us you see on the cover. We’ve been trapped in this book for a long time. You have to say the words to get us out of here,” one of the voices explained.

“You’re talking as if I had a choice,” you replied in a timid, low voice.

“Read the words, woman,” another voice commanded. It was the coldest and harshest of them all. Despite lacking a physical form, his dominant aura was unmistakable in the way he emphasized his words. His voice resonated with a deep, chilling tone, unlike anything you had ever heard before. You attempted to steady yourself, swallowing hard and clenching your trembling hands into fists on your legs.

“How do I know you won’t hurt me? Each of you had a weapon on the cover; it’s clear you’re some kind of warriors.”

“We are bound to the master of the book,” another voice interjected, his tone notably more welcoming and kind than the others. “We cannot harm you.”

“God, I must be losing my mind. I’m talking to a book,” you muttered, glancing at the pages with audible trepidation. Fear and panic constricted your throat, rendering you speechless.

“This is no illusion—it is the truth,” the same younger voice asserted after a brief silence. “Read what is written, master, and we shall pledge our service to you.”

“I-I’m not anyone’s master. Don’t call me that; this situation is already too surreal for me,” you protested weakly.

“As you wish, master,” came the compliant response.

“You won’t hurt me, will you? I’m too young to die; I haven’t even begun to fulfill my dreams…” you pleaded, your words abruptly cut off by a snarl. If not for the invisible force holding you down, you might have leaped in fear.

“Read these damn sentences!” the voice commanded, his tone harsh.

“Bi-Han, don’t frighten her!” another voice intervened.

“Fine, fine, I’ll read it!” Tears continued to trickle down your cheeks as you began to recite the words aloud, hoping to end the ordeal. And as you prayed to the god or whatever deity might be watching over you, you couldn’t shake the dread that you might be leading yourself to your own demise. “Rise, my servants, from the depths of slumber and bind yourselves to me with your souls, revealing your names. Embrace your new purpose ensnared by passion.’’

As you finished speaking, a powerful gust of wind whipped through the room, causing the towel around your shoulders to unravel and fall. Soon after, you heard the voices of three men speaking in unison, their words echoing loudly.

‘’We rise, Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, and Tomas of the Lin Kuei, bound to your will, for in your presence, we find solace and purpose. We protect and we please, however you see right, however you seem fit. We’re your slaves, and you’re our master, surrendered to your every command, body and soul.’’

With a surge of energy, the wind intensified, knocking over the glass on the counter, spilling wine onto the robe and floor. The glass shattered at your feet, scattering shards across the kitchen. A brilliant light emanated from the book, forcing you to shut your eyes against its intensity.

Then, as suddenly as it began, everything fell silent and still. The wind vanished as if it had never been, and the light that had filled the room dimmed into darkness. Summoning the courage to open your eyes, you were met with the sight of three imposing, completely naked men standing a short distance away.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” You attempted to gather your thoughts, tearing your gaze away from the men to focus on the scattered glass on the kitchen floor. “There are three naked men in my living room. And—and they emerged from the book? I must be losing my mind. I really must be losing my mind.”

As the words tumbled from your lips, sounding like utter madness to your own ears, you tried to take deep breaths to calm yourself. But when you attempted to rise from your seat, your numbed feet betrayed you, causing you to stumble and fall to the ground. The impact sent a jolt of pain through your knees and feet as shards of glass embedded themselves into your flesh, stealing the breath from your lungs.

“Shh, it’s okay. Calm down, you’re only hurting yourself,” came a gentle voice.

Your gaze was drawn to a towering, bronzed figure looming over you, his powerful physique making you feel small and vulnerable. Sensing your escalating panic, he gently cupped your face in his large hands, the touch of his calloused fingers both rough and tender. With each contact, warmth spread through your body in soothing waves.

“Look at me. Take deep breaths and exhale, just like I do,” he instructed in a soothing tone.

“I can’t,” your voice broken with fear.

“Of course you can. Follow my lead, I’ll show you,” he reassured. As you turned your gaze to his face, you were met with a pair of slanted light brown eyes, framed by long black eyelashes. His gaze exuded warmth and understanding, matching the sensitivity of his touch. “Breathe with me. Now.”

As your brain somehow focused on his instructions, you found yourself synchronizing your breaths with the mighty man before you. With each inhale and exhale, you felt a wave of calm wash over you, dissipating the last shreds of your strength. He effortlessly supported you, preventing you from collapsing to the floor, his touch gentle yet firm. Despite the pain throbbing in your flesh and the warmth of blood trickling down your skin, you remained in a state of confusion and fear, unable to muster the will to move from his grasp.

“Tomas, find something to clean the wound,” commanded the one with the authoritative voice, resonating with incredible depth. The man who held you gently lowered himself onto one of the double seats in the living room, maintaining his firm grasp on you. A faint warmth spread across your face, but you remained ensnared in his hold, feeling as if your mouth were filled with dry cotton.

Your gaze shifted to the man cradling you, his expression clouded with concern as his amber eyes scrutinized you closely as if he feared you might suffer another attack. Despite his gray hair, you were taken aback when a youthful visage suddenly filled your vision. The man was tall and imposing, his large build casting a formidable shadow over you. Feeling intimidated between these two towering figures, a timid whimper escaped your lips as your body instinctively recoiled, yearning to escape despite its weakened state.

“Calm down, master. We won’t hurt you. Let me tend to your wounds; you’ve cut your knees and feet badly. I can ease your pain,” reassured the silver-haired man, his voice carrying a surprisingly gentle tone given his imposing stature. As you swallowed and tried to shift again, a cold sound from across the room froze you in place.

“If you move again, I’ll—” began the menacing voice.

“Bi-Han, enough! She’s already frightened, no need to add to it.” Intervened the man holding you, his voice commanding authority. Though Bi-Han’s threat remained unfinished, its effect lingered, rendering you motionless, afraid to even breathe. As the silver-haired man tended to your wounds while taking advantage of your stillness, the man holding you attempted to comfort you with gentle pats, drawing soothing circles on your back.

Gritting your teeth against the pain as the glass shards were removed, you fought the urge to appear weak and helpless in their eyes. Though you couldn’t see yourself from their perspective, a sense of self-consciousness gnawed at you. In an attempt to shift your focus from the pain, the man holding you soflty interjected, “I am Kuai Liang,” he introduced. “May we know your name?

Struggling to articulate your name through clenched teeth, you managed to utter it in one breath. A faint smile graced Kuai Liang’s face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, (y/n).”

“Speak for yourself,” growled Bi-Han from across the living room. “Just another fucking master we’re bound to serve.’’

‘‘I thought you wanted to get out of the book.’’

Kuai Liang’s sharp retort silenced Bi-Han, prompting Tomas, who was tending to your wounds, to interject. “And so am I, Tomas. Thank you for calling us into your service.” he said with a small smile that seemed forced, his dull greyish blue eyes lacking genuine emotion. As he carefully tended to your wounds and wrapped them in bandages, a sense of unease washed over you, causing you to squirm away from Kuai Liang’s grasp and retreat to the corner of the seat, eyeing the three men with a mix of confusion and discomfort.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” you croaked, avoiding their look as your gaze involuntarily dropped to their lower parts for a second before you could prevent it, your cheeks burned with embarrassment. “And please cover up your bottoms. You can use the cushions.”

Complying with your request, all three men concealed their private parts with cushions. Tomas took a seat in the opposite double seat, while Bi-Han settled into the single seat. Despite your small apartment being already cramped, the presence of the three burly men made the space feel even more claustrophobic.

“Where would you like us to start?”

“From the beginning,” you replied, addressing Kuai Liang. “Who are you? How did you end up in that book? And why are you here now… Please, tell me everything from the beginning so that I can understand.”

“We are members of a clan called Lin Kuei, known for training assassins, and we are brothers,” he began. “Bi-Han is the eldest, serving as the grandmaster of our clan in the past. I, on the other hand, am the middle one, and Tomas and I served as his second-in-commands.’’

The revelation that they were assassins drained the color from your face, confirming your suspicions from the book cover. A shiver ran down your spine as you realized the chilling reality of being in the presence of trained killers.

“Many years ago, we encountered a demon named Quan Chi on a mission. As you can imagine, the mission went awry, and he sealed us inside this book. Whoever owns the book and says the words becomes our master, and we are compelled to fulfill their wishes and desires.”

Even if you sensed that the information was being presented with some omissions, you refrained from voicing your suspicions. They were strangers to you, and you to them, so expecting complete transparency without trust seemed unreasonable. While you had the authority as their master to demand the truth, approaching the situation in this manner didn’t sit well with you—it didn’t feel right, nor did it feel humane.

For God’s sake, the idea of being anyone’s master was abhorrent. The twenty-first century had arrived, and the notion of a master-slave relationship had long since vanished. It felt nauseating and profoundly unsettling.

“I am not your master. I can’t—I can’t be. No.” You attempted to stand up in panic, desperate to escape the situation, but your injuries held you back. Kuai Liang gently grabbed your arm, urging you to calm down.

“Calm down (y/n), your wounds are very fresh. You’ll make them bleed again.” You clung to his wrist, pleading with your eyes for assistance.

“Is there no way to set you free? I can’t accept this. This is—this is against humanity!”

With your words, a deep silence enveloped the room. As you observed their stunned reactions, it became evident that this sentiment was new to them. Your heart ached at the thought of witnessing these powerful men stripped of their freedom. Despite your fear, the realization knotted your stomach. They appeared intimidating and deadly, yet the severity of their situation suggested that past experiences had shattered them and stripped away their dignity. You couldn’t fathom how long they had endured as slaves within the confines of the book, but the outcome seemed all too predictable, casting a somber shadow over the room.

“Set us free?” Tomas’s voice echoed with longing, his desire palpable.

“Such a thing is possible, isn’t it? If you tell me what I should do I—”

“Why would you do that? What do you want from us in return?” Bi-Han’s voice sliced through your words, sharp and menacing. You fought to maintain your composure, avoiding freezing in your spot as his icy demeanor chilled the room. As your agitated gaze shifted to his pale, muscular arms, you were astonished to see a thin layer of ice extending from his hands. Were they truly made of ice?

“As I said just now, I can’t be anyone’s master, it’s in defiance of human ethics. If there’s any way I can help you, I’d like to do it. I don’t want anything in return except for this situation to end as soon as possible, I’m sure you want the same.”

“Do you expect us to believe that you are just a fairy godmother?” Bi-Han’s mocking half smile sent waves of unease through you. “You are not convincing at all, woman. Favors are done with an expectation of something in return.’’

“Favors are done for nothing; you don’t expect anything in return. That’s why it’s called a favor.” Emboldened by a hint of defiance, you met Bi-Han’s stern gaze head-on. “I can understand why you don’t trust me after what you’ve been through—”

‘’Don’t you dare,” Bi-Han shot up from his seat, his movement swift as a shadow. Suddenly, he was close enough for his breath, cold as winter air, to brush against your face. “Don’t try to empathize with what we went through. Do you think you know us now just because you’ve learned a few things?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend,” you said quickly.

“Brother, please sit down. If you talk like that, we won’t get anywhere.” Kuai Liang intervened, putting one arm between you and Bi-Han. Bi-Han glared at you intensely, his eyes slanted like those of a predator, then he took a deep breath. Watching the mist of his cold breath in the air, everything still felt like an endless dream—or nightmare. When he finally returned to his seat, Kuai Liang’s gaze turned to you.

“Thank you for offering to help, but unfortunately, we don’t know how to undo this dark magic.”

You ventured a suggestion that you hoped wouldn’t sound foolish. “We could try burning the book. I’ve seen it work in some movies.”

“We’ve tried that,” Tomas chimed in, joining Kuai Liang. “Several times. Whatever we’ve done, the book has never been destroyed. It’s protected by some kind of magic, just as it protects its master from us.”

“You spoke as if you had tested the last part before.”

In response, silence enveloped the room. Despite your efforts to stave off panic, the realization that they were assassins and the precariousness of your situation made you feel threatened.

“We have tried to kill several masters before,” Kuai Liang admitted frankly. “But there’s some kind of seal that protects them—you can think of it as a shield. It renders any attack ineffective. That’s why we were telling the truth when we said we wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Of course, if things were different, it wouldn’t mean you wouldn’t try,” you said, averting your gaze and clasping your hands in your lap. Another solution came to mind, prompting you to straighten your shoulders and take a deep breath before continuing.

‘’ If I can’t set you free, then you’re free to do as you please, go where you want. You don’t have to be stuck here.” you offered.

“You won’t give us orders? Isn’t there something you want us to do?” Tomas asked, surprised.

“No, as long as you don’t start killing people, you’re free to do whatever you want.”

“We’re not mindless killers,” said Bi-Han harshly, sounding offended that you would even think of them in that way. Kuai Liang interjected, softening his brother’s tone.

“We serve a noble purpose. We were, until we were sealed in the book… Our clan has been dedicated to protecting Earthrealm from dangers for centuries,” he explained, his gaze softening slightly as he made eye contact with you. “Thank you for the opportunity you’ve given us, but we can’t be away from you for more than a few hours. We have to get back here, to you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “How so? Why? Do I have to say something else?”

“No, it’s part of the magic. It was designed to prevent us from escaping. When we’re away from our master—you, and this period becomes longer, we become weaker and weaker.”

“So at the end of the day… God, what cruel magic this is,” Gulping, you scanned all three men with a heavy heart. It must have been torture for them to endure this existence. Even as you spoke, your heart ached with empathy, imagining what they had been subjected to. Anger and sadness gripped your body as you contemplated their plight. “Is there anything else I can do for you? My house isn’t too big, but I want you to be comfortable during your stay here.”

It was Bi-Han who responded, his narrowed gaze resembling two thin lines, as if he were dissecting your sincerity. You couldn’t help but feel a pang as you tried to discern whether he believed you. While you understood his skepticism, winning their trust seemed like a daunting task.

“You can start by finding us clothes.”

[kemeticdevotee]

Isis/Auset, Goddess of magic, motherhood and nature!

Who is Isis

Isis, or in Egyptian Auset, is the Goddess of Magic, health, marriage, nature, motherhood, fertility, purification, and womanhood. She is the eldest daughter of the Earth God Geb and Sky Goddess Nut. She is the loving wife of Osiris, sister of Nepthys and Seth, and mother of Horus.

Her magic was believed to be so powerful that she could control fate and restore health to the sick. She also has many myths surrounding her, the most notable being the Osiris myth, where she brings her husband, Osiris, back to life after he had been killed by their jealous brother Seth. Another myth she plays an important role in is the Contendings of Seth and Horus, where she assists her son Horus in taking back the throne from Seth.

Isis is a goddess with many, many aspects and domains. Along with being a beloved Goddess of the Egyptians, the Romans and Greeks loved her too, and her cult lasted well into 500 AD, when the emperor Justinian I had her priests arrested.

She is a friend to slaves, sinners, the downtrodden, the protector of people in mourning, widows, orphans, children and single mothers, and she is a patroness of Artisans, weavers, and healers. She was also thought to be the mother of the King.

Her Symbols

Throne

Tyet knot/Isis knot  𓎬

Kite bird

Scorpions

Sparrows and swallows

Cobras

Sycamore and Acacia trees

Red Jasper (symbolizing her blood)

Green scarab

The moon, lighthouses and the ocean (Roman Period)

Offerings

Tyet knot which was used to prevent miscarriage

Gardenia, jasmine, iris, blue lotus, white lily, rose, saffron

sistrums

mirrors

bloodstone, moonstone, pearls, rose quartz, lapis lazuli, aventurine, red jasper, coral, carnelian

sweet wine, pomegranate wine, water, milk

pomegranates, honey, almonds, date figs, roast duck,

frankincense and myrrh incense

perfumes

Acacia and Sycamore

Epithets

Lady of the beautiful west

Queen of Heaven

Star of the Sea

Mother of the Gods

Lover of Silence

Keeper of Secrets

Auset the sufferer/mourner (Hebrew origin)

Face of Wisdom (Hebrew Origin)

Great Lady of Magic

Lady of Joy

She who mourns

[cienie-isengardu]

Bi-Han: freedom & enslavement

MK1 story mode:

Kuai Liang: His teaching did not pass with him. They should still guide us. Bi-Han: Guide us, yes. Shackle us, no.

Shang Tsung: I know that you wish to break free of Liu Kang's control...

MK1 Sub Zero Ending:

"I had broken the Lin Kuei free of Liu Kang's enslavement. We were now masters of our destiny and could take our place among Earthrealm's greatest nations."

Sub Zero vs Liu Kang Intro Dialogue #1

Liu Kang: You have forsaken your family. Bi-Han: To free the Lin Kuei from bondage.

Sub Zero vs Liu Kang Intro Dialogue #2

Liu Kang: Come in from the cold, Bi-Han. Bi-Han: And again kneel before you?

Sub-Zero vs Smoke Intro Dialogue:

Bi-Han: I've gained the Lin Kuei's freedom.

Scorpion vs Havik Intro Dialogue:

Havik: You let yourself be Liu Kang's slave. Kuai Liang: An opinion shared by my brother.

[odditycircus-2002]

Quan-chi Meeting His Granddaughter

A/N: Based on this and also this, in case you haven’t read them. Cause otherwise, this is just a teen beefing with an old man🤣

/

Quan-chi: What do you want, granddaughter?

D/N dead serious: I wish to make you eat your heart.

Quan-chi amused: Fitting you have my twisted imagination.

/

D/N: You’re my grandfather?

Quan-chi: *chuckles* So my former slave continued my bloodline.

D/N: Now I fully understand why Mother and Father want you dead so badly.

/

Quan-Chi: Are you as weak as your mother, child?

D/N without hesitation: Are you still as feeble as a newborn lamb, withered Sorcerer?

Quan-Chi: We shall see with this fight then, shan’t we?

/

D/N: Is it reasonable to assume that you’re not above killing me and my clan?

Quan-Chi: If I require either Y/N or Scorpion’s services again, then yes.

D/N readying her floating skulls: Then I shall prevent that from happening, now.

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

49 - Through the Frost Fangs

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

Length: 19.3k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, disturbing imagery, motifs of death, suicidal ideation, non consensual vouyerism, smut, oral (m and f receiving), p in v

Notes: Slight time jump from the end of the previous chapter. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

The nature of where you had grown up would normally have removed much ability to be both in awe and terrified of such sights. The dark, jagged, black cliffs all around Dragonstone that were impenetrable. Climbing straight up one you may reach the top, but exhaustion would set in far before you could safely bring yourself down the other side, and nowhere was there to stop. Nothing of the rocks acting as a border, hiding your girlhood home away from prying eyes was anywhere you could stop or rest. Only high winds and sharp edges no matter which way one turned.

The woods between the villages and the castle were lined with what you described as death. Dark, muted colours. Trees with rotting leaves and others barren their entire existence, all sitting stop what you'd hardly call grass. Leaves and plants as if painted with dirt and mud and dried in the little sun which would ever shine down on the woods as a whole. Always blocking from one end or the other was the volcano of Dragonmont. From there it was why a fog always made the distance impossible to see far into, and the air was heavy with the smell of brimstone and sulphur every gasp. Always smoking from the top and filtered down across the bay which was the only entrance to the castle where one did not have to sail miles down and cross said forest from the harbour at the villages.

The castle covered in statues of dragons, scorpions, griffons, and creatures which looked neither natural nor recognizable. Your tutor which taught you High Valyrian had called them Chimeras. Said that ancient Valyrians would toss animals and slaves into the fiery depths of the Fourteen Flames to mix with blood magic, and it could create new animals which roamed their lands even after it's doom. You recalled reading that it was in those volcanoes that they found the first dragons, asking him if that means they created dragons as well and you for years could not forget that he did not have an answer to that. The strangeness of your home was a shadowing echo of a land long destroyed by forces none understood.

But this was the opposite. The sights around as you carefully watched each of your footing the rougher the terrain got, nothing of the same and in some respects, a sight which paled in comparison. Yet it was the sight that terrified for not the same reasons as your home, and it was what you considered the kind of beauty that Valyrians wrongly thought their twisted, dark, fiery hellscape of a home was like.

The lands around the Frost Fangs were more empty then any you'd passed to get here, but they were somehow the ones you couldn't take your eyes off of the most. The only real place in this world where such otherworldly beauty existed was not in a people, or family or remains lost in a doomed land.

If beauty could only exist in one person or place, it belonged to the North.

Divided into two separate manners, the beauty existed as long as the sun stood tall in the sky. The lands you walked and climbed on only made of stone and ice, everything was dipped within a paint of blue and grey but the paths twisted and turned in such manners that it stretched beyond what you could see of any direction. The mountain peaks you existed beside every moment were tall to the point your could not lean you neck back enough nor squint to see the very top of the snow capped edges where in strong bouts of wind, misty snow blew down across the rest of the paths like rain did a ship on open water.

But each path you saw always led to something wondrous and new. The unique lands of your home were nothing, they led to a dark, tall volcano and death around it thick and empty of life. Here though, while life was sparse in what could survive, it was rich in everything else. Some paths contained the traces of water which rushed over stone cliffs, some splashed loud as you knew such a sound well, others were frozen in place. Each drop of water maintained in place for you knew not how long as it pooled out into a great lake. Again, some held it's water still and others froze over so smooth the ice acted as a reflection of the mountain peaks around it.

Some days you had come across great crevasses. Sunk so deep into the ground the ends were pitch black and the only path safe across it was to take the long way and seek where it ended, and cross only there. In the sun, whenever you were higher up it was bright and blue and clear unlike the grey of clouds in the rest of the snowy lands here.

The terrain was not forgiving, but it was a feast for your eyes in ways your stomach did not get so far North. Wildlife existed, but you did not understand how the cave dwellers of the Free Folk could live their entire lives here. Hunting for food must have been the only true task they did all day to feed as many of them lived between two clans. There was only three of you, and food was still such an important aspect of each planned day.

Plants were easy, every clearing you could come across a valley of a frozen meadow which held things safe to eat and easy to make into something else on hand. Wildflowers, coldsnaps, frostfires and the much more bitter piper's grass. Jon and yourself had to some days, get creative, but it did not impede on your time together the days food ran more scarce. It only served to remind one another that as long as you worked together, you had made it each and every day without having to endure nothing to sustain you all.

Ghost had it easier, his mighty size meant any wildlife when he caught his hunger held no chance. Jon and yourself were not put off by the fact that the largest portion of any fresh meat went to the direwolf, he was much in need of all his strength. Ghost and Jon themselves had their own harmony of planning.

Jon plotted the paths, routes, lengths of days and where to detour for resources and remained firmly at your side most of the time. Ghost when the path seemed too steep for him to climb, would run forth to seek out another. Many times, above you two, the direwolf's head would peak out from behind a cliff side as you and Jon would then begun to follow where Ghost had found his way. Other times if it was on level enough ground and the side more of a hill then mountain cliff, you and Jon would simply take time to climb and join much faster.

It was not common, not now. The three of you were not fooled as to why. In a way, it was obvious and it also was difficult to see. In the days, the sheepskin and fur covering both of you looked identical and not much could give hint to anything underneath in passing glimpses, but without anything on the sight was much more clear. But it wasn't quite enough to balance the warmth Jon felt seeing the bump in your womb grow, when you both knew, it wasn't truly enough.

You accepted it already, food was not plentiful out here and you would not gain the same as all other highborn women carrying a child would be able too. Everyday you would go until you could no longer hide your exhaustion from Jon, and you both knew that there was not the freedom to give you as much food as you should be having. You couldn't have a bigger share then split even equal, Jon needed every ounce of strength for your growing lack of easy dexterity and resilience.

And yet you still refused to trade this for any food, even if the old gods descended from the skies themselves. You were still healthy, and so was the child inside of you. It was all you could, or would ask for. You knew the weight you needed to put on wasn't enough, because you had reached this stage before. In one week, you would be five months. The last you were five months pregnant, was when you were butchered.

With nothing on, you looked as many women did at three or four months. It was not a bad sign, not yet. Some women did not ever look much in the way of pregnant by the time they are on the birthing bed, and their babies were healthy and fully developed in every way. You felt exhausted and hungry, but never ill or out of place. You felt strong carrying this time, and even though you had yet to tell Jon, you had a sign much earlier this pregnancy that his child was healthy then you did when it was Robbs son you carried.

Jon and Ghost had gone ahead, keeping you in a flat terrain of land shielded from the bitter cold as they made sure the path was safe to go through after such a storm filled the night before. You were leaning against the edge of the cliff side, eyes closed as it to seek one last bit of relaxation in lieu of returning to sleep when you felt it.

For everything Robb was, it was clear his son had a sweet side. Gentle and unobtrusive right at the end of your only time with him, small kicks as if merely to gain his mothers attention, and would only increase when Robb would run his hand over your stomach. Then a little more rambunctious when he heard the warm sounds of his fathers laugh. Little Ned was patient for his turn in the world, only ever giving enough of a push to remind his parents he was in there.

Jons child though, was a wolf. Not even a shred of doubt, the sweet side of Robb that his son had inherited was not the same kind of ask for attention that Jons child demanded. They wanted their mother to know they are in there, that despite the harsh conditions you are still in this together but did so with all of the same grace Jons temper could flare up with.

Until you rose the fur over you up enough to bite your glove off and run it along gently, as if avoiding where the scar was, Jons child kicked until they found where inside of you met with the hand resting outside. Your eyes grew wide and genuinely you laughed, which only caused them to kick more. Still so small at this stage but had they the ability to growl you had no doubt they would've.

They had eased by the time Jon and Ghost returned, almost as if you wondered, to keep you company. To ensure you were not alone out here. It was so odd to think, but as you had seen Jons figure returning in the distance you wondered if this was what Lyanna Stark had spent months experiencing.

Alone and trapped and unable to be home where she belonged, all she had was Jon. You wondered if that helped her bond to him. The way this time around, you already felt Jons child hold so much personality in such small interactions in your womb, was that what it was like for her? You had Jon, but his mother was alone when pregnant with him.

Was it within the blood running through their veins, which begged for their mothers to not feel abandoned in such places where that feeling could over power you? But, by the time he returned to you that morning, you had readjusted everything. His child had settled once you were no longer alone and you both had another long day ahead. You didn't want to distract Jon with this new development just yet.

The focus however, did not mean you two did not find endless manners to pick the others brain, or things to tease each other, or just you about. Which was what Jon had found his own entertainment in one afternoon. “Just one sentence is all I'm asking.”

If you were not pregnant, you'd had dashed up ahead of him to avoid this conversation. But a playful roll of your eyes came about instead. “I've never known you to need to hear a thing twice.” Like clockwork, one of your hands reached up to grasp at a more sold rock edge to give you leverage to climb up and over some steeper stair like formations, Jon at the same instance wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you with such strong ease to stand more flat on your feet instead of having you waver once on firm ground again.

The audacity in the passive casual tone in his voice. “Maybe if you said it in Valyrian-”

You only glared, but it drew such a quick smirk from Jon as he looked forward once more. The teasing in his eyes bright as the sun above as you know your protest only encouraged him. “It's the singing debate all over again.”

The process repeated again, trying to get over this stretch of more jagged terrain Jon almost always had at least one hand on you the whole time as you climbed over the rocks. “And who in the end convinced you to sing just once that night?” The knowing look shared between you, that was a trap you walked yourself into that time. “Could start asking for that again instead.”

Whatever muttering under your breath you let you got another chuckle from Jon as you spoke up with a jesting lecture. “Do you even know how many people in the world have ever heard me sing?” Jon very dryly guessed numbers at complete random, as if to amuse himself at your growing impatience. Interrupting the absurd guess of sixty, “Since I stopped needing such lessons, the only ones who ever heard me sing were Shireen, and you.” His glance was bright and curious as he looked at you, and the irritation melted down to your feet in seconds as you shrugged. “Shireen used to sit in her chambers, open the one window in there which weren't merely carved into the walls. Would always push her bed to read or draw as she'd sing to the open window, hoping whatever birds flying by might join her. The times I would visit, I'd sit with her the final night before she went to sleep and would sing to her instead for once.”

You hadn't even been looking at Jon when you said it, almost in passing lost in memory. “That night with you, was the only other time I sung in front of someone who wasn't her.”

Jon however, seemed to say something in a deeper tone, more full of something emotional then his teasing before as he almost made you stop in place with a compliment he had said in the exact same manner that night. “Good. I don't know if I like the idea of other men knowing you're this beautiful and can sing like that.” Turning back to him, you wanted to protest but just as he had so many years ago in innocent times, he just passed you by, bringing you head closer to his to press a kiss to the side of your head and prompting you forward.

The fluster on you that time also was just as real. “Well, my Valyrian isn't quite as..well taught as my singing once was. I'm better at reading and writing it then I am speaking it. I'd rather sing you something then try and remember how to speak it.”

“Deal.”

Turning suddenly to him, your mouth parted slightly at his easy confidence when your stomach swooped with a floating feeling like a girl. “Was this all a ruse to get me to agree to that?” The lack of shame in his gaze almost had you break the facade to grin and shaking your head at his audacity. It was getting increasingly ridiculous, the clever ways Jon would trick you into agreeing to things when it was only you three out here.

Manipulative as he was sneaky, Jon was when he wanted to be.

There were two paths, one of which would take the better part of daylight and the other was simply far more terrifying to you. The gap between mountains was immense, but it did close in to a much more climbable section but the other was right in front of you. A naturally forming bridge, solid and made of rock and stone likely carved into a sort of bridge after centuries of likely use. The sight would be beautiful were it not so open.

On each side of the bridge, was blue sky. Jon, Ghost and yourself were so high up that if the Wall was called the edge of the world, you were now at the top of it. Heights did not scare you, but it was the nothing which surrounded you to help. Not even the Bridge of Skulls was so thin and open to the waters below. Ice as flat across from it as a sort of clearing and would be an easy trek forward but you felt your nerves getting the better of you, despite your attempts to stay still and silent.

Jons gloved hand ran over your hair as he stood somewhat facing you to the side, murmuring your name asking if you were alright. Nodding somewhat, you swallowed before trying to straighten your posture as if it would help sell the falling apart ruse of calm. “Of course. Ten minutes to cross, or three hours going around to get to the same spot on the other side.”

Eyes narrowing slightly, Jon spoke with a worried air of comfort in your ear. “We can go around if you-”

But you shook your head. Adjusting the bag over your shoulders and all but nodding for the direwolf beside him to keep going. Ghost always went first in situations as this, sniffing out the danger and testing the strength against the direwolf which weighed the most. The grips on your boots made specifically for such woozy purposes, but it did not change the feeling as if each gust of wind would knock you straight down to the abyss.

Putting you between he and Ghost, Jon walked close to your back as if to always be near enough to steady you if needed. He had told you he would take you slow through the Frost Fangs and despite your efforts to push through at the ability he could, Jon refused you every chance. Forcing you to slow down or stop when he could sense you were shoving your precarious limitations aside for what you felt was his sake.

Each time you hesitated, Jon murmured your name. His hand gently hovering over your side as if to grab you. The heights, rocks, cliffs, hills you had climbed and yet this was what made you feel ill, made your stomach twist. But you would force your eyes to stay on Ghost despite begging to look down, and each time you came close you felt that churning. Which only made more severe, your ragged nerves as the little one picked up on what felt like distress. Only making the motions in your stomach worse, your eyes closing shut, lips parted as something paralyzing rushed through you to keep it all maintained, but Jon grabbed your hip.

Pulling you back into him, as Ghost stopped in place. Turning with his wide red eyes to watch as Jon pressed his chest against your back, your name rasped from his lips as you shook your head in a strained whisper. “I'm sorry-”

Jon did not waste your breath on such things. “Don't be. You're not scared of heights, darling.” His gloved hand just barley allowing itself to run across your covered stomach, his tone changing just the slightest to something a bit more playful as he whispered, even if just to make you breath out a laugh. “I know you mean well, but stop making your mother scared of things she's done a hundred times before.”

It worked just the amount he thought, you barley huffing a laugh out, allowing Jon to be your support for as long as it took for you to force your breathing calm. The twisting inside you settling each passing moment as you could just barley feel Jon following your inhales and exhales with you. Barley sensing him doing it, but it helped immensely. Him staying with you, through what you knew was such an irrational fear for you.

Grasping his hand over your stomach, Jon twisted enough so you both held what you could reach of the other as he held your other hip as well. Ghost sitting patiently with not a single ounce of impatience to make you keep following. “As far as we've come and it's crossing one bridge that makes me panic.”

You could just barley feel Jon lean against the side of your head as he hovered you, but the chuckle from his chest vibrating into your back eased whatever doubt was left. “I climbed up all nine hundred feet of the Wall. You don't think I panicked at any point?” You couldn't see his smile, but as soon as one peeked from your lips it sat free on Jons.

Strained voice you gently opened your eyes, not truly sure when you had closed them trying to calm yourself down. Jon following suit as you stood straighter to continue. “How did you get to the ground? After reaching the top of the Wall, how did you get back on the other side?”

Jons answer as simple and a tad amused. “We climbed down.” Your head tilted almost in question as he chuckled again. “I almost fell once going up when Orell cut me loose. Going down's a lot easier when you almost didn't make going up. At least I'd be falling in the direction I was supposed to go.”

Truly, Jon did not like to talk a lot about his time out here, especially with you. For the important things he learned and grew from out here, it was a time in his life he spent a year and a half constantly looking out for death in every direction, and hoping his lies were convincing enough to let him escape with his own life one day. But perhaps, being out here with you this time helped.

Only him, you, Ghost, and Jons own son growing inside of you. It made the perils of then feel a lot more worth it, if he could be the one to guide you through such a place now. It was odd to think about, how little loyalty actually mattered then. The snow and ice came down and Jon was certain Orell used it as an excuse to try and cut Jon loose. He hated him so much he didn't care about the fact that it too would cut Ygritte loose, as long as Jon fell then he'd have gotten what he wanted. But the thing was, it made Jon feel uncomfortable the fact that she didn't care either.

Jon had confronted him about it, saying he knew it was Orell who cut him loose on the Wall. Orell just gestured to where Ygritte was walking away in the distance, saying he cut her loose too but she wasn't complaining about it. That she understood it was the way they did things. But Jon stood there on the bridge with you until your own senses came back down and the two memories made him angry.

Jon was uncomfortable realizing that Orell and Ygritte both thought him weak for caring about being cut loose on the Wall, how little life mattered in loyalty to them that they could both stand there as friends and not care Orell saw her as a mere casualty of his ire for Jon. But it was the sudden way your head perked up before stepping forward, the way you tired to turn and look at him with something sharp on your tongue. “What do you mean he cut you loose?”

Trying to explain it, Jon felt angry as you did for different reasons. You were angry at what Orell did in general. Jon knew you had not a single reason to think positively of Ygritte but it was the sheer factor of the disregard for human life that still offended you on her behalf.

But it made Jon angry when he stood there realizing, were Ygritte in the place of Orell, she would have been the one to consider Jon the causality just to cut you loose. He couldn't stop thinking it as you all crossed the remainder of the bridge.

Being out here only put it into sharp contrast, despite Jon telling you in broad terms what she forced him to do, you still never bad mouthed her. Jon knew why, you had seen enough to have once wrongly assumed it was actual love between he and her and Jon was smart enough to know that the short moments Ygritte treated Jon like a person was enough to sell himself on a lie. You had seen enough of Ygritte to know she was not just a monster the way Ramsay was to you, and he knew you wished to respect those parts of a human being which was now gone.

Only Jon, didn't know how to explain to you that he wished you wouldn't do that. Because he knew without any doubt, Ygritte would have taken every chance, every moment of opportunity to stand between Jon and you. She was not kind to Jons sense of self esteem, but Ygritte would have eviscerated yours. The sheer way she'd make fun of girls just like you that Jon would've grown up around, and sure on a surface level, she could sometimes say something funny. She was loud and outspoken, sometimes Ygritte was funny just because she talked enough that eventually something would accidentally be amusing by chance.

But on a deeper level, it disturbed him to think of you anywhere near her. What she would've said to you, what she would've done to you. Jon had been murdered trying to leave to go find you, what would she have done the second you rode through those gates? She probably wouldn't even have let you anywhere near his body. What would she have done once she realized what had happened between you and Jon once you brought him back?

Because Jon knew, not a second of that would have changed. Just maybe he thought to himself, he would truly have ensured you were pregnant that night if she were alive. Keep you alive and safe by bonding you and Jon together for good the moment you reunited. Or maybe it wouldn't have mattered, maybe he thought, it would only make her want to kill you more. He hated it. That the only point of comparison of another woman he had was her, because all it did was bring into clarity the truth of what he almost let himself become.

It very likely confused her when she died, he knew. Her final moments on the ground wondering why Jon left her there, why he wasn't there to hold her and cry. What had she gotten so wrong about him and Jon knew she'd die before figuring it out.

But Jon still had scars from every single arrow she shot him full off, just how your body still held scars from the horrors of what Ramsay put you through. He didn't know why he was so focused on the subject, but he hated that you both had to endure them in order to be able to reach this point. But then Jon would catch the sight of your stomach, it made it all a little easier.

Guiding you off the bridging path, Jon kept an arm at your lower back as you walked the first few feet of flat ice and his eyes casted downwards again and again. Maybe it all had to be worth it. His life before was full of fear that getting you pregnant was ruining your life and his child's chances at a good life. Maybe it all had to happen, so that Jon could finally realize, he didn't just want all this, it was to realize that you were right. That he was supposed to have this.

Maybe despite all the back and forth in his head, it was only there to lead him to the one answer that mattered, that no matter what he could fear from another life, the life right in front of him was you being his wife, and his son growing inside of you. The far north was full of conflicting memories for Jon, but perhaps it all was there to put into perspective that the life he deserved was in front of him now.

If there was no coming back from his journey, then you wouldn't be pregnant right now. If this was all in his memory to show him how far he's come, then the gods wouldn't have let Jon fill you with his child. He knew you were still trying not to compare yourself with Ygritte, but there was no comparing.

Hell, she would've cut one of his hands off if he tried to even be half as gentle or comforting to her for anything as he was with you. You still worried where your shortcomings out here were against her, but Jon, the second he turned you suddenly in his arms to face him now on flat land, leaned down to cup your cheeks, pressing his lips urgently against yours and it all settled back inside of him.

He was a pillar to keep you safe physically out here, but as much as Jon would let his mind wander in the quiet, all it took was your gentle, loving kiss to throw all of that turmoil down into the abyss you all had just crossed. The longer you survived beside Jon out here, the more and more your image finally was obliterating what was left of hers.

It was why he knew the four of you had to come back alive. Jon knew there was an entire remaining lifetime waiting for him back in Winterfell. This baby was more then just something he never thought he'd have with you, it was his real new start. His son with you, was where the last of Jon previous nightmare of a life might finally begin to disappear forever, and he couldn't wait.

It was far easier for you to blame Jon for this feeling.

You would be fine one moment and the next you felt something surging through your veins taking over like an obsessive need until you were so out of your head all you could do was think about it. But he would stand there looking so effortlessly handsome that you felt that driving desire moving before he could reasonably talk you out of it.

You were weak to the way he looked, Jon was weak to the bright, almost innocent look in your eye when asking. You had taken him off guard one afternoon. Kneeling down to put something away in your own pack, did your eyes wander. You wanted him so much more like this the past month and it was driving you as out of your mind as it was him. Jon was a giver, he didn't want to just stand there and make you do the work for his own pleasure, but he truly did hate saying no to you when asking with such a gentle politeness. You both knew you took full advantage of that when it came to this act.

But then you'd feel the gentle sensation of him gathering your hair blown messy from the wind, keeping it in his hold as he'd murmur to you in low tones and dark eyes. “Go on.”

It was almost teasing how careful you were with him in contrast to how swiftly his hand gripping your hair tightened. Gently running your hand over the layers covering him. Before even pulling him out, feeling his cock twitch and harden under your almost massaging touch, mixing for Jon, too much with how genuine and innocently you did so. Not trying to tease him or put on any display or whatnot.

Feeling him grow hard enough you moved to pulled him out and with one hand not even able to wrap around the thickness of his cock, you guided him into your mouth without wasting a breath. The cold air exposing what of him was out against how much you took him into your throat, warm and wet around him. Only letting go to grasp steadily at his hips you slowly took his cock deeper as your eyes fluttered closed at the whirling feeling of need in your stomach forming.

Stretching your mouth where your jaw would later feel a sting no matter how used to his size you should've been, your tongue ran over what you could reach of his cock. Saliva collecting around him making it a bit more manageable to sink down more. Nothing greedy or even urgent, only soaking his cock further and further as you sucked his cock. Low growls contained in his chest, you never went fast or close to. Only sinking inch by inch each time you pulled back, sliding him further into your mouth as you almost whined at the sensation.

Hands flexing at his hips, Jon shifted to slowly sink more into your mouth himself. Almost sighing in relief, your head bobbed up and down his cock with a quiet obedience, your heart racing but not enough until you felt the panic of such a large size so deep in your small mouth.

Were Jon demanding, he'd have forced your head up and down him at the exact pace you were already going but that was simply how you sucked him, knowing what he needed was what you wanted. Gently moving you deeper onto him as he thrusted slightly forward, Jon didn't even mean to start guiding your head, but he did. Holding your hair tight as your mouth soaked around his length to the point you could not pull away without looking a mess.

Faster and faster did he move you, jaw clenched as your own thighs begged to press together but never did you leave your hands from his hips. It wasn't about you, you almost felt upset at the idea of trying to share this when it was only for him. You didn't want to have any part of your body feel good, when you were almost desperate to mean each time Jon could not go any further down your throat. Pulling you back only inches from where you sunk, Jon would then press your nose against the coarse, black hair around the base of his cock and it was then the moan in you could not be contained. He let out a groan at the sound humming around his length, and your heart sped up. Blood pumping in your ears at how little you could handle him keeping you there as if it was your new home. But you'd keep his cock that deep for however long he wanted.

A tingling wetness between your own thighs at the idea, of being forced to keep Jons cock in your mouth as long as he demanded you too, or for however long his far superior strength would hold you there without choice. It was pathetic, how much you wished to keep his cock filling your mouth or how your hands flexed at the thought of how close he might have been.

If it weren't such an embarrassing thing to admit, you'd say how much you love the taste of Jons seed, how good it felt when it was so hot spilling deep into your throat and fill your stomach as if out here, should food run low, Jon could eat and you'd need nothing but him. He pushed you to take him deeper and deeper and in another world, this would've been Jons favourite thing, and on your knees would be your rightful place before him.

Gods, you were nothing of the proper lady you were supposed to have been raised to be. Should any else hear such thoughts, they'd say this lustful, wanton bastard had bewitched or cursed you into serving his cock but you didn't even care. You could hardly even breathe he was so deep, but you didn't care about any of it because you felt so good being dragged up and down his length.

By the time Jon throbbed inside your mouth, you whined a sort of beg to not be pulled off despite knowing he was far too gone every time to ever consider finishing anywhere else. Jon sunk your head, forcing you to take him deep in your throat. Face pressed against the coarse hair there, Jon fisted your hair in his grip, not allowing you to even budge as his other hand moved to grasp at the back your neck. His hand on your hair guided you deep, his hand on your neck however, forced you to accept every drop he was to spill.

But you moaned around him at the taste, at how much his hot seed spilled down your throat and pooled in your stomach. Muffled sounds like a gag trying to accept all of what he was gifting you to swallow and your heart raced at how little you cared. It was out of your mind to feel this way, but you'd give up your title as his Queen to be nothing but a whore to take his cock in whatever fashion he wished to spill inside of you.

Only once you had swallowed everything with the struggle of how much he could fill you with, Jon slowly pulled you off as his voice rasped with something strained and dark. His blown out eyes watching your mouth part gasping for air, but still dutifully putting him back to not expose his cock to the bitter cold. “I don't deserve you,”

But your eyes fluttered shut, the taste of him lingered in your mouth like a reminder of why you always hated when he'd try and stop you. Shaking your head, your hands still gripping his hips but your forehead resting at his now covered cock still. His grip in your hair looser, but not letting go as you whispered through such an obvious strain from taking him so deep. “You do, I promise, you do. Gods, I love when you met me to make you feel good.”

It took a few moments to convince himself to stand you back up, but cupping your cheeks as he did, Jon traced the bridge of your nose with his. “I'm starting to think you're bad for my health, darling.” You breathed out a laugh, giving Jon a more genuine one in return. Tilting your cheeks to press a kiss to your forehead as your arms wrapped around his shoulders and back of his neck. Toying with the loose strands before you found the willingness to part.

Not before slinking around to gather his hair to pull back for him, Jon himself couldn't decide what was a guilty pleasure more. How willing you were to let him force you to take his cocks entire thick length, or when you without prompt did such small things or him simply because you liked too.

Jon did more of the same small things for you, but you both knew, no one had ever treated Jon the delicately gentle way you still did. And even out here, it only made Jon feel so much more obsessed and possessive of you for it. Regardless, he would pull three times as many orgasms from to out do your efforts the nights you sucked his cock.

Afterall he knew, you did not like taking his cock in your mouth as much as he adored tasting the wetness between your legs. You could not match Jon in how addicted to you he was, and Jon really never even bothered to let you try. You both already loved what you had now too much to make any real change to it.

Neither wanted too.

It was one day later when you realized you had once looked forward to when the morning ills would finally have passed. Knowing it would mean you were giving Jon less and less of a reason to stop on your behalf. But it wasn't quite working out that way even as the ill feelings were gone now.

The more easily out of breath you could become the more you found your footing slip in the easy to misstep ice filed terrain. The small cliff side you both were slowly working your way up shouldn't have been a big deal.

Climbing was something you'd always done, but the things which previously would give a mere skip in your heart before moving on, would now send the little one inside of you into much more of a panic on your behalf, only making the slip of your footing worse. The day had been quiet and calm up to that point, but such silence only meant you could not hide any of it from Jons sharp hearing.

What originally was one misstep, turned into you missing your foots grasp and sliding down the rocks, only for your insides to lurch violently the second the little one too seemed to panic. Thus it had caused your hand to slip from grasping your next hold. It was not as if it were a long way down, but it was enough you fell, trying to ease the landing by dragging your knee against the rocks to create a slowing friction, but alas that had only ripped into the sheepskin and tore blood from the now shredded skin underneath.

Calling your name in distress, Jon swiftly made his way down before kneeling in front of you to hoist you up more on your feet. Somewhat resting your back against the cliff side, Ghost begun making his own way back down the longer path to meet you. Hands bracing your forearms, Jon looked you over with wide eyes until he got to your knee. “Are you alright?”

Not bothering to let you lie, Jon yanked his pack off, searching right for something to clean and wrap the new wound with, muttering under his breath as he pulled your leg to rest your calf over his shoulder so you didn't stand unsteady as he undid the top of a smaller skin of water to gently run through the blood. “You should be telling me when you need to stop, darling.”

Shaking your head slightly, you still felt the overreaction in your blood as your stomach twisted as if trying to pull a feeling from the baby into the mix. “Had a wrong misstep is all.” Jons eyes tore up to yours with a doubt heavy inside of them before tearing off a scrap of wrappings with his teeth. Gently moving to wrap it around the whole area.

“I'll clean and close this later, this should stop the bleeding for now.” Apologizing gently, Jon sat you back down steady on two feet as he stood up, looking you over for a moment before finding a voice again. “We'll stop here for the night.”

Instantly, as he moved to begin setting camp you grabbed his arm to pull him back. “Jon, no. It's fine, I slipped once.” Trying emphasize only once, Jon protested saying he wasn't pushing it, only causing you to raise your voice slightly, not in an anger or defiance but almost in a distress or worry. “Jon there's still hours of daylight, we can't keep stopping everytime I get a cut.”

Looking you over in silence, Jon was about to make his own case for the opposite when the little one had either the worst timing, or the funniest. You weren't sure. Almost looking as if you were going to be ill once more, Jon grabbed your arm once more but you only blinked wide as you seemed a bit winded, huffing out a breathless laugh. “What?”

Your eyes bright as you looked up at him, and it seemed the one inside you sensed Jon as well. Shaking your head you grabbed his hand, pulling a glove off and very easily directing him to where you felt a slight kick.

Grey eyes growing wide at the first feeling of a kick against his palm, only increasing to what you had felt with laughter when the feeling increased, as if his baby could sense he was right there. Your grin turned to a bemused wince at how relentless it was for a moment. Stepping close to you, Ghost rounded the corner and came up just as eager to your right. Jon muttering so low were you not inches from his face you wouldn't have heard him say anything “How long has he been doing this?”

A small shrug, “A few days now. Seems to like getting my attention at the worst times possible.” Jons palm followed the path as if ensuring he was not imagining the first few, your left hand reached up to run your thumb along the facial hair at his jaw, your other finding itself within Ghosts fur as the thought came to you. “Starting to feel like prey, surrounded by all you wolves.”

A smirk drifted onto his lips as he tore his eyes to look up at you, an affection drenched in something jesting that put you at ease. “A little deer getting herself alone surrounded by predators?” You tried to snark back that you were a stag but Jon had very quickly shut it down so simply it had you parting you lips slightly in audacity. “You're too small to be a stag, and not sharp enough either.”

Muttering under your breath, “Aren't you supposed to be nice to the mother of your child?”

Grey eyes so bright were the day more sunny, they'd have shined against it like a perfect reflection towards you. Leaning in as Jon kept one hand on your stomach and moving the other to cup your cheek to bring you to his lips. Muttering against them enough you felt their softness each passing motion. “I love you.”

That wasn't what you were asking for, but you leaned up to meet his lips all the same. Hands finding the back of his neck, you felt him twist his wrist to press close against you, without ever removing his hand from your stomach. It wasn't deep nor greedy, but a guiding gentleness that consumed your lungs until every ounce of it's need was in Jons control, yet trapped by his kiss. Lightheaded perhaps by both it and Jon himself, you let him press you more into the cliff side, deepening it only enough you picked up his urgency.

Raking his hand through your hair, Jon pulled you to angle up better to not escape his kiss as he only let his hand trail from your stomach down to hoist your thigh up by his hip. Too many layers between you, but it was not about that now.

Not as only something pure existed in the press of his lips to yours, not at all caring of the wind passing along your skin. The baby didn't stir up again, only allowed peace to settle between their father and mother as Jon failed to pull away. Capturing you lips time and time again each instance he wanted too pull away until he left only small chaste pecks barley leaving.

Moving to the side of your mouth, to your cheek to one just below your ear as he rasped into it. “Stay here with Ghost. There's a cave a mile back, I'll make sure it's clear before setting in tonight.” Pulling only away enough he could barley see your eyes, you nodded and both met the others lips once more. His head dropping to press against your forehead to look at your still hidden stomach with a smile on his lips so natural you suspected he didn't even realize he held the look on his face.

Once more, the baby only seemed to grab your attention once Jon was gone, and was settled a bit as Ghost gently nudged his head against your stomach as if the very presence of wolves was enough. Still you looked up to the sky and hoped once more. Praying that in her final, lonely, terrifying months, that having Jon with her brought Lyanna even a modicum of peace for what little time with him she'd ever have.

Within the eyes of dreams you had known what it felt like to be watched by more than one bird.

A black crow with three eyes with an intense wonder and a raven with feathers dripping in blood which was often found by it's side acting like the mentor guiding things for the three eyed crow. Those eyes were strange on both and you did not understand them, but you did not feel uncomfortable and unsettled by them.

But this one watched you in your waking life, and it watched nothing like the eyes of the other birds before. You did not know Orell, nor the eagle which was his companion but Jon did and he was sure that they were one in the same which followed you. He didn't know why it was following without doing anything, but now you felt unnerved by how close it sat and watched.

The cave Jon sheltered you in had enough winding paths which kept the blowing winds away from where you all settled directly. They were fascinating the manner which they did or did not interact with the world outside of their depths. The rock walls were so thick they could absorb any sound. Two people could be in the tunnels next to each other and not hear the other yelling, the sound trapping so absolute.

It also meant that the warmth within some were held there soothingly in the bitter cold. Sitting by the small pooling remains of wherever there existed a hot spring, it was no more then only a few feet deep. You could stand within the water and only be hovered in heat to your ankles. So instead you had made home right at it's side, Legs uncovered as the sheepskin all sat by a fire near to warm from the cold day. Keeping your long sleeved layer on your torso as you slowly washed around the now cleaned, stitched and wrapped cut by your knee, you thought little of it at first.

The eagle had flown to follow in the sheltered warmth of the cave, and now sat high on a rock protruding from the ceiling just far enough away it could fly back out of sight the way it came in if need be. You didn't think of it when he first flew in, barley letting your gaze flicker up. But as you reached back to rest the cloth by the small makeshift basin of soap did you go to reach for your other final layer to wash the remainder of grime from your upper half.

Only, as you uncovered as far as the bump underneath did you notice. Eyes flying up to see the eagle watching you. Never before had it's presence felt intimidating. Watchful eyes of animals hadn't felt intimidating before. Ghost had seen more then his fair share of passionate throes of love making between you and Jon and never did it occur to any of you to care. The night you had brought Jon back, he sat in the corner of the cell and watched as if to ensure no soul dared come down to disrupt the reunion.

But the more slowly you pulled your final layer off did you feel intimidated by this eagle. Shifting on it's feet without a sound, watching you watching it as your chest was revealed to the cold air around and the warm steam from below. Instead of not caring, you gently draped the material along your hips, as if to hide your most intimate aspects of you body. As if not feeling comfortable being so open and bare to such a distrusting pair of human like eyes.

You hoped it was only an eagle and Jon was wrong. You did not know Orell, but you did not wish for him to know you either. The entire time your upper half was washed you and the eagle stared at one another, and you could not tell what it was about you he was watching. Was it your bare form, who you were to the man you travelled with or was it the unmistakable bump growing at your womb it was watching?

Only it took off to the unseen edges of the cave the very second you heard the footsteps of two wolves return to the cave clearing you were within. Ghost trotted up to the front of the small spring of watering remains you were by, a low growl within him as he watched in case it returned. Only settling once Jon called to him, “Ghost.”

Nothing more was said between them, you had long since gotten used to the two wolves somehow needing not a single sharing of verbal words to understand each other. Moving to settle beside you, Jon ran a hand over your back as his eyes too did not drift yet from where the eagle sat. Asking roughly if he did anything, you shook your head, comfortable now returning your focus to your skin. “Just sat there is all.” Glancing to what you could see at your side of Jons tense form you added with a lighter hope of jest, “Too bad. Could have scarred my face too, then we'd be matching.”

A smirk crossed your lips when you could see Jon turn to give you a look you preferred not to be lectured with in such peace. Taking the cloth from you, Jon properly soaked it in the mixture once more, collecting your hair with one hand to push it over your shoulder, he took over the more difficult aspect of very massagingly running it along your back.

Three months it took of spending every moment with each other in many new capacities, and finally it seemed you could exist in some state of undress without wakening the darker wolf within the White one you married. Protectiveness won out against his hunger it seemed. “I can't get you to stop finding new ways to bleed for me, don't need you looking for more on purpose.”

A half smile formed as you leaned somewhat back into his warm chest. Your voice low, “I wouldn't call what I do, looking for more ways to get hurt. Just terrible luck.” Jon half chuckled, looking for something to put your hair up only to give up on the notion of leaving you to do so. Letting his curls loose to messily pull yours up off your neck to properly run the soaping cloth along your neck and shoulders. “You never told me, why Orell attacked you.”

Once Jon may have not paused comfortably but from where he knelt behind you, he could so perfectly see your growing stomach and not a shred of doubt or pain sat in his heart as long as you were right in front of him so openly. “He always knew I was lying, and was mad he couldn't convince the others. Then I ran a sword through his chest.”

Your brows narrowed a little, “It feels as if you've left a number of details out.” The chuckle in your ear was endlessly comforting, pulling your own small smile back onto your lips. “Wasn't trying to pry, I suppose if I were forced to be a bird the remainder of my life, I too would hate the one who trapped me there.”

Jons guess was not what you were expecting. “He could see through what I pretended to feel for Ygritte, now he's obsessed with watching what I actually have with you.” Putting forth perhaps he was simply in need of something to entertain himself, Jon grunted unamused. “Can find that somewhere that isn't stalking my wife.”

Humming, you knew it would be too easy to let him spiral into that darker part of himself, and thus you took what felt like the easiest path to draw him back into something much more present and hopefully back to playful. “So is it you are only willing to share me with one man of the free folk or just not that one specifically?”

His hands stopping moving entirely almost had you crack your facade into laughter, even moreso when he grumbled under his breath likely a string of words including cursing. Returning to your form, Jon tilted your head to the side so he could reach around and run the cloth along the front of your neck. The soap trailing from where it landed and sliding down between your bare breasts as this time the watchful eyes you felt were grey to the point now they were likely treading on black in colour.

By the time he found words, Jon did not at all address your comment, knowing it would only amuse you further. It was his idea, and now Jon was the one avoiding recalling that night every single opportunity he could. “We'll make it there by the new moon.”

Your eyes trained on the steaming water and nowhere else. You knew where he spoke of, and the new moon would only be in some three or four days. Since when did you and Jon come so close? When did this journey draw so close to an end?

You weren't ready yet, you had only this week felt Jons baby inside of you start to move.

As long as you were inside you could avoid what it looked like out there the moment the sun went down, but you didn't want to think about why. You couldn't, not when he had been so happy to feel his child kick against his touch in your womb, it wasn't fair Jon needed more time. Jon deserved to be a father for longer then this.

But why wasn't he spiralling the way you were? Your stillness was an indication of such fear in and of itself, so why was Jon so collected and together? Why wasn't he angry about this coming to an end?

He only continued to speak, sounding as he always did each time he would relay the next day's plans to you as normal. “When we get there, we'll camp until the next morning. Even if it's dawn when we get there, we'll stop for however long in the day is left. I won't rush you out there.”

No, you wanted to scream. This wasn't about you. You carried this baby for five months, you had every second of it's life with them. It was about Jon. Jon needed more time, he needed to be able to hold them in his arms, give them a name and finally feel safe calling his child a Snow. He needed to experience giving his child the love he and his mother were ripped from sharing together.

Twice you carried a Stark baby until five months, but Robb had always known he'd make a family of his own. It was not a surprise or new development for him. You needed Jon to experience more then the hope or fantasy of it.

If it was a girl, he needed to hold her so he could return home and bring his daughter to his mother and tell them they shared a name. If it was a boy, you two needed to go back and forth on what to name him to share his son and heir to his people.

You had this process twice now, but it couldn't end before Jon could have the remainder of it, it wasn't fair.

You felt a fool at the sting behind your eyes. Jon was calm, so why were you feeling the heat behind your face derive from more then just the heat behind and in front of you. Why wasn't Jon afraid of losing what he only just thought he could have?

Why did the gods bring you back just to die together out here? You had only been reunited a year now. Jons new life with you didn't deserve to be even shorter then the cruel amount of time you and Robb were forced to only have in such short years.

You only nodded. Keeping it all in, not wanting to start anything. As soon as he was done, you'd jump at the chance to switch places. Perhaps if you had something to focus on, you wouldn't let the feeling of loss take over. You had once wished you could've been allowed to trade your life for Rickons.

Now you wished you could trade your life so Jon could truly love and raise his child. But five months was too early. You couldn't do what the vengeful demonic ghost of Catelyn Stark had spit at you in favour of. You couldn't simply cut your baby from you now to gift to Jon before taking their place and walking into the deathly cold alone.

If Jon suspected what was spiralling inside of you, he let you keep it inside as you swiftly turned to try and take his place and position him where the hot spring water pooled into. “I know you feel the cold, but truly, how are you still this warm even out here?”

Carefully pulling the layers from Jons torso now from him, you ignored his wandering eyes as you stood to sit his clothes near the fire to dry and warm as yours were. Perhaps his hunger wasn't quite as dormant as you previously assumed. But regardless, you started with his back and shoulders first as he did for you last.

By the time you were at his front, you had not a clue when the conversation had turned to what it was nor did you really know quite when you had gone from kneeling respectively at his front to Jon yanking you up to straddle his now bare hips instead of letting you do your work in peace. His voice continuing the present discussion as if he hadn't just moved you to his pleasure. “Felt like he was trying to mock me.”

Shrugging, you were carefully running the cloth down his torso, eyes always memorized with the scars littered about in a blend of a horror and wonder. A year had passed, and still did you scarcely understand how you had been the one to bring him back. But your more present mind had latched onto his comment quickly. And just as fast, did you flatly let out the exact range of emotion you had when sharing your final words with the man. “He probably was. Most in the south look down on the Nights Watch as little more then a joke, I wouldn't expect a man such as him to give you any respect on the matter.” Meeting Jons eyes suddenly with a taken back expression, “What did he even approach you for in the first place?”

The answer was curious as it was nonsensical. “He was essentially asking if I had ever killed a man yet.”

You were fairly certain there was not a single shred of logic which existed in the mind of Ser Jaime Lannister. Shaking your head slightly, returning to work against Jons torso you muttered with a degree of left over frustration from a previous life. “Unless your answer was somehow I murdered the psychotic King I was sworn too, I'm not quite certain why he'd care.”

It came out so naturally, you had almost forgotten that neither of you had broached that topic since then. Who he was in terms of blood now that Jon knew the truth. It felt so wrong, it felt a lie, a treason, it was gross and an insult to the grandfather of Jons the same King actually killed. And yet it was none of that which seemed to come to Jons mind. “That answers that question.” Asking what he meant, Jon clarified with his own amusement. “Who you hate more, House Targaryean or House Lannister.”

He made it easy to smile and smirk such days now it felt. Your muttering not lacking in truth, only elaboration Jon fully understood. “The only margin they are getting is because I wasn't alive when they committed their crimes. Harder to say I hate the family I went to war and die against, less.”

Touch running up your hips and waist was soothing despite the rough calloused feeling of Jons hands so large even against your plush skin. His voice a rasp that only watched you with bright, unjudging eyes. “Starting to think it's even for me.”

Glancing up and then once more back at your work, you weren't sure how much you wanted to comment on it for him. Even now it wasn't something easily digested after an entire lifetime without that knowledge. Finally beginning the process of rinsing the remainder to clear his skin entirely, did one hand of Jons reach up to you with the still damp strands of your hair falling into your face.

Pushed behind your ear, you let him speak without interrupt. “It's hard to accept, that a family could leave as much death in my family as the Targaryeans did.” Sensing his eyes on your scar, strange it was starting to look against the growing bump around it, a contrast which showed such drastic differences in life to life that only the ones littered about Jons chest could understand. Somewhere in this trailing thoughts though, did an interesting one come about. “Everything he did that ruined my family, hurt yours, all so I could end up here.”

Meeting his eyes curiously, you put the cloth to the side. Hands returning to brace against his shoulders, toying with his loose curls your fingertips could reach. “In a cave at the end of the world?”

But Jon didn't look strained in the thought, as if something inside him was settling over the matter in his own small beginning ways. “The people he killed and hurt to bring me into this world, but here I am, raised by Ned Stark, married to Robert Baratheons niece, and everything their family valued, getting to call our son a Snow, because I've finally figured out what my name is doesn't matter.” Running your hand more to rake through his curls, you ran your other palm down to rest over his scarred heart as your forehead found his, nothing but calm running between you both. “Can't be more of a disappointment then that.”

You only smiled though, “Speaking as my fathers own disappointment, you get used to it.” You could see Jon going to protest that but you cut him off at the chase. “Are you going to dispute that, because I assure you Jon he's more proud of you then he's ever been myself. Suppose had I been born a boy..”

His hand running now more at your side, trailing down your breasts ever so lightly as your shiver was distinctly not from the air around you. Jon muttering as his dark eyes trailed down your form much more freely again. “Rather not think about not having you exactly like this.” Peeking up to your eyes, watching as they fluttered shut right as his thumb trailed over the small buds of your breasts, a swallow rough in his throat watching as you nearly jumped from such a feather light touch alone.

Surging upwards, Jon grabbed you by the hips. Standing up in an instance and pushing you by said hold up against the cave wall, the water from the hot springs pouring down your back and now splashing somewhat over both of you as Jon and yourself stood in the pool of water. His gaze now greedy as he looked you over. One hand firmly at your hip keeping you pressed there as his other returned to your breast, teasing this time instead of a light touch of innocence.

Keeping you on that razors edge as he never let his touch grow rough, but knowing the shaking in your muscles was intense regardless. Your hands tried to grasp meekly at his waist, as if too trying to be respectful and not look to how hard his cock sat thick. As if he didn't even care about it as long as his touch against your breast grew rougher each grope until he twisted the nipple, the sparks through your blood arching your back from the watering wall into his body.

Only Jon shoved you right back from his grip at your hip. Crowding you more, his curls growing wet as the water now soaked both of you, but too close to skew your views of one another. His voice husking over the sounds around you, vibrating deep in your chest down between your legs. Growing more wet from not the waters of a hot spring, but a burning consuming your soul so close to Jon. “I need you to stay right there, darling. Just like this.”

Nodding, Jon grasped your chin, pulling you up to meet his lips in a desperate kiss. Your arms winding without hesitation, around his shoulders and back of his neck, Jon wrapped an arm around your back and pulled you into his front as much as he stepped towards you. His other cupping the back of your neck to keep your lips pressed to his with no escape. Soft yet rough, harsher and more demanding he told you to follow his kiss at his command and the water so warm around you both had you melt so perfectly into his touch.

The moment his tongue brushed your bottom lip, you graced him such permission as his tongue slid inside of your mouth to brush against yours. A whine weak in your throat, but you felt Jons cock twitch as it brushed between your legs. The hand around to your back trailing down, pressing against your ass to force your hips to press more against his, your own hands tightening in his hair, but he only tasted inside of your mouth to consume your every cry and breath.

Lightheaded but arching into his touch, Jon pulled back from you with a bite to your lips. The weakness having him return once more but speaking as the trail of saliva sat between your so close lips, now swollen from his harsh demand. “Just like this, alright?”

Running the hand at the back of your head down your hair until you whispered in a breathy need, “I promise.” One more surging kiss to consume your head with a burning fog only of him, Jon pulled back as swift and wasted no more time.

Kissing a path down your neck, licking and kissing before his teeth sunk deep to force marks as he then sucked harsh at the skin to bruise. Your body again arching into him but Jon grabbed your hands and forced them up against the cave wall, letting his own hold you at your waist with the upmost confidence you could not dare disobey such orders. Which you did not in any way, you listened to his every demand no matter how silent.

In an instant both of his hands roughly grasped at your breasts, twisting your nipples with a roughness unbecoming of his usual tease and yet you begged his name as if it were his cock giving you such pleasure. Yanking more as his hands groped rough imprints into your skin, you begged his name with words you did not know, nor care. Only pleas for him as Jon responded with nothing and showed no mercy.

Dragging your insides too close, spiralling out of control as you begged him. The water was freezing compared to the burning brewing between your legs, spreading through your bloodstream like a wave washing away a village. Head foggy as Jon skipped past your breasts with his mouth aside from one single rough bite which pulled such a gasp from you tears followed.

But he didn't linger. Hands running to your hips as he kissed down your bump, only to pause. His hands rough as he covered what skin he could reach between his moving lips. That time, the surge existed only in your heart.

You wanted to have this child for him so badly.

Jon however, needed something else. It was the final of it, it begun in a place just like this and Jon was not going to leave this cave, this very spot until it ended here. Each and every haunting had been replaced with you, and now it was the last of it. Your begs and pleads were high pitched and so sweet any other man may have felt it a trick.

Every ounce of your beg of his name was soft, as was your touch and not a second did you consider not listening to him, or not sharing yourself with what he wanted. Roughly spreading your legs, there was one final memory in his sights and the moment Jon buried his face into your cunt, not for a second could he even tell you her name. If she was a woman who was not you, no longer did she exist.

Grabbing your hips, Jon refused you to pull away. Licking tight motions to your clit before sucking it with a nibble to end on before repeating the process. Hands now sliding to your inner thighs, Jon shoved your legs wider. Nothing easing you into it was given to the bundle of nerves but it coiled something needing within you so fast, tears formed in your eyes as you only let one hand rake through his curls.

Jons hold on your thighs was rough, your hand in his hair was not. Gentle and almost caressing, you needed to feel something more of him as your heart landed back down in your chest from how far it floated away. But Jons tongue ran at your clit with such tight purpose that you could not elaborate anything but his name singing from your lips.

Soaking you from his saliva alone, you burned at such an easy touch to your clit despite how much your mind wanted to simply beg for his cock, to be taken as he wanted fighting with the fact that this right here and now was just that, what Jon wanted.

Drinking from the wetness you gifted him, the moment he felt you tense and your begging of his name peak into gasps, Jon sucked at your clit with a rough greed. The stimulation making you jump but it was simply the first taste. As soon as your orgasm finally washed over, Jon shoved you more against the cave wall. Burying his mouth at your core, your orgasm pouring onto his tongue with every ounce of his greed growling at the heavy taste.

A rough hand forcing your thigh wide for him as his facial hair scratched raw into your skin, contrasting with his tongue warm and soft licking your folds up to your cunt and refusing to let anything building inside of you go to waste. Jon wanted to taste all of it and his touch was so rough it bruised every single scrap of skin he held you with.

The water muffled any real sounds of his feasting, but you could feel the sounds and grunts he made as he soaked you as much as you were soaking his mouth and tongue. Dragging back up to your clit before sinking back, his other hand grasped at your ass, digging his nails into the plush skin as you were pushed more to meet his mouth.

Your insides burned, you were set alight and the only salvation was to let Jon do what he wanted, even if that meant throwing you into a burning fire as long as he touch was the one casting you into such damnation, you'd beg him to do it. Never did you grip his hair mean or tightly, making his closed eyes roll into the back of his head you still never wanted to be demanding with your touch even as he drank from your cunt like his final meal soaked his mouth before him.

Shaking around him, you begged his name, “Gods, oh Jon please..so good, gods you're so good,” Jon groaned into you, hands tight as he held you to his mouth, not allowed to leave. Your orgasm burned into something too bright and tightly wound to contain, snapping as Jon only lapped up every single bit of wetness you gifted to him.

Drinking from between your legs, an oasis of perfection Jon only ever found in your taste. Never slowing down, Jon let his tongue dive inside of you sensitive and begging as you kept arching more into his mouth, he couldn't stop thinking you were perfect. Such a good girl in every facet of your normal life and yet you still were in the one thing you could let loose, but you didn't. You held Jon without demanding anything, only asking so sweetly for him with praise and begs.

The taste was so painfully addictive. You hadn't even yet come down when his mouth soaked you into another, that time your cries so much more of tears and words too much to bare speaking beyond the screaming burn he pulled from your core. His tongue flat and wet your head almost slammed into the cave wall begging his name.

Jon though, needed one more. He needed to make you cum once more before he would do anything else, he needed the taste because he didn't care about any meal that was not the wetness he soaked up along his tongue, and left a burn of facial hair to mark your thighs with memory that he drank from.

Your head felt like it was floating, your cunt soaking wet as it was almost stinging from how demanding Jon tasted you, and how wide he kept forcing your thighs open and shoving you against the wall to prevent you from escaping. Sloppily dragging his tongue up to your clit Jon sucked at the bundle until your orgasm shattered from a third into aftershocks sparking a fourth.

Grabbing both of your hands, Jon forced them up above your head into the water stream as he stood, his cock hard as he crowded you again. But you were just as he said, a good girl. Leaning up to meet his lips, you gave him permission without having to be told. Parting your lips, Jon slipped his tongue back into your mouth, making you taste what he was far too addicted too between your legs. It never was what he seemed to get out of your cunts wetness, but the mix of his kiss as enough to let your legs widen even more for him.

Interlocking your hands as he kept them above, Jon pressed himself too much against you to be able to slide inside of you but it was not quite that he sought. There was something in the way more then usual, the bump of your child together kept Jon at a bit of a distance from crowding you. Barely leaving your lips, Jon rasped into them, unable to even open his eyes as your mouth wished to beg for him to come back already. “I love you so much,”

Before you could even say it back, you called his name in a worry as he left your hands to grasp at your thighs. Hoisting you up against the wall, you grabbed worried at his shoulders, drawing his dark, dark eyes to your wide ones, voice unsure in your tone, “Jon, I'm too heavy for this-”

Narrowing his gaze at you, Jons arms did not even have a single strain. Black eyes as dark as the rasp in his voice almost hissed at you. “You are carrying my child, you are not too heavy.”

Imploring him to reconsider, Jon ignored it. Capturing you lips in a biting kiss, Jon let his cock side along your soaking folds, wasting no second in sinking inside of you. Despite his mouth drawing every bit of soaking wetness to ease his size, the stretch stung in an instant, it always did. Hands grasping tightly at his shoulders, you wished so badly to hide in his shoulder with your gasping wince but Jon surged forward to capture your lips first.

Tangling them in his curls instead, Jon was slow as he begun to sink deeper and deeper. You taking his every inch without resistance and yet it was how large he was in your tight walls that had both of you shudder in need. Biting your lips almost in an instinct with a snarl, as deep as you could take him, Jon didn't move. Throbbing inside of you, only making you clench around him more but never did your lips part from one another.

Your insides screamed at you in such a shattering of feelings overwhelming your nerves as Jon slowly pulled out. Inch by inch your cunt almost begged to draw his cock back inside of you, but he eased you with his kiss softening as he did so. Only his tip remaining, Jon pulled from your kiss only enough to murmur against you. “I'm not leaving you,” Nodding your hands grasped desperately only to beg to hide in his neck once more as he sunk back.

Slowly, so slowly Jon thrusted in and out, never wishing to speed up but his lips desperate to feel yours, he kissed you almost more urgently then his cock sliding inside of you. Dragging against such a sensitive wall, your nails dug into the back of his neck before sliding into his curls again, unable to stop leaving it a mess as he filled you so completely, even only like this.

You felt yourself soaking him each time, were he not as thick as he was, your own mess would have smeared down your thighs, instead it was trapped inside just as the seed leaking from Jon, the feeling so overwhelmingly full and yet the slow speed only accentuated it to something too much to handle.

Giving only enough room for you to gasp for air, Jon sunk deep again, the sounds unable to even be heard beyond the water cascading around your bodies, but you both felt it none but your skin against each others in desperation. It crept up slowly, your orgasm.

A burning which always raged in Jons presence felt out of control when he took you, as if you were never truly complete without him inside of you. Voice weak as you muttered, not knowing if he'd even hear you. “I'm sorry I ever left you..I'm so sorry..”

Jon thrusted back inside of you resting his forehead against yours. The smile not quite what one would imagine on a man as deep inside a woman as he was, but despite the roughness forcing out his voice, there was a tenderness which matched how slow he fucked you. “Don't be..I was always yours..but this way, we belong to each other...only each other..”

You hardly really could comprehend in your conscious mind what he was saying, the draw of his cock against you so deep left a burning trail of pleasure screaming for more in it's wake before he set it ablaze further when he once more slowly sunk his cock back. Never even considering to pick up the pace, only rocking gently inside of you up against the watering wall of the cave, nothing existing outside of being so deep inside of you mattered to Jon and it didn't matter to you.

The rest of the world didn't exist here. Your first orgasm came from nowhere, hidden in the depths of your soaring heart, Jons name gasped from your mouth as he pressed his lips to yours. Clenching tightly around, Jon gave but nearly five more thrusts, each increasing ever so slightly in he strength until he groaned in your kiss in return to your moans.

Pushing inside you as deep as he could, Jons hands against your thighs grew bruising as his kiss was so biting you felt the skin of your lips tear slightly. It only made you hold onto him so much tighter, sounds begging in his mouth for more as he finally spilled inside of you.

But unlike that very first time, so much like here that night in Castle Black, Jon never stopped. Never allowed his cock to leave you, only staying at that steady pace he formed when finally pouring his thick seed deep inside of you.

Jon had wished that very first time with you that when he filled you, it would take. Now it almost was frustrating he couldn't do it now. He could feel your stomach against him just enough to ensure he always could sense how you were carrying his child, but he hadn't gotten you pregnant that first time and part of him could only recall that disappointment realizing he hadn't. Refusing to give leave you yet, Jon increased his thrusts.

Rougher he begun to sink inside of you, faster and faster each time as you begun to cry out. Head falling against the cave wall behind you, uncaring of the water still cascading now against you. Nothing would get in either of your ways of each others touch, each others kiss and Jon had barely muttered your name to convince you to return to him.

His lips were more gentle then his cock, jostling you in his arms enough that your breasts bounced with each shove of his cock. Tearing from your lips Jon almost watched with the wonder of a boy, before his jaw clenched and kissed you again. His tongue meeting yours, tasting your mouth without letting you return the gesture as such.

If Jon could've filled you with a daughter right now, he would have. Cumming at the same instance you begged for him, walls asking for you to be filled with his pouring seed. Spilling deep but you feared having any of it leave you, as if something took over your mind. The fear of Jon pulling out of you matching to this being the end, but Jon cradled the back of your head as he kept you pushed against the wall enough.

Shushing you gently, you hadn't even noticed any sounds even remotely like crying had begun to leave between your begs for him to stay inside of you. Nodding against his whispers of nothing in your ear, Jon never stopped moving in and out of you.

The world spun, and suddenly though, most of your body lay within the warm pool of spring water, only your shoulders and head laying against dry stone below. But Jon, yanked your hips up. One thigh up against his side, the other held open for him, you barley had noticed the change in sight before it was Jons grey eyes turning to a wolfish pitch black as he stared you down.

Something in him, snapped. No longer was his fucking gentle or slow. Something had changed as he had spilled inside of you the second time. He couldn't get you pregnant this time around, and it seemed, Jon decided on the alternative. Jon had kept so much of what utter horrible filth wanted to come from his mouth when he first took you.

But here? Alone in the world with you his wife, carrying his child? What more of his desires need he hide?

His eyes trained intently on where his cock was sunk deep inside of you, only moving slowly the first pull of his cock out of you. The soaking sight as he could just barley glance up to the rest of you so perfectly on display, his hands on your legs tensed as he suddenly thrusted roughly inside of you. Never looking away from how he sunk deep, you accepting his length without a single bit of hesitation. He'd pull back out painfully slow, dragging against your sensitive walls until you clenched around him with a gasp only to pound back deep just as roughly once more.

The sloshing of water beneath you, beads of it splashing up onto your skin, as it shined. To Jon, it for moment, felt as if he had been lured in here. Tempted by a goddess to sink deeply inside but you did not seduce him, you only lay there, arms spread above your head as much as your now wet hair draped along the cave floor. To Jon, you were more then a goddess, someone as such like a siren wouldn't let a bastard like him fill her with a child. Yet your stomach showed he had truly done just that, your breasts bruised and marked up from his many nights taking advantage of how they were so sensitive he could finish you just touching them. Bouncing with every thrust inside of you just as Jon could see the plush skin of where your legs and hips met jostling with his sudden pounds.

Not for a second did Jon loose any intensity, not even slowing down as a growl tore from his chest. Hands tense on your hips, his eyes closes shut as his head dropped somewhat. Rough pounds of his cock inside of you, each one more slapping them the last. Only pulling halfway from you before slamming back as deep as you could take him, cries left your mouth needy and high pitched just as your name tore from Jons in a dark need.

A sudden and thick warmth filled you, a whine wishing to tear from you as his seed poured inside deep, his cock rough with every thrust and more and more did he always have to gift you. As if you had been designed to take him, and never let any drop go to waste be in inside of you here or when Jon was fair and let you feel his seed down your throat. But he didn't stop, not slow, nor loose any momentum with how hard he was.

Feeling your body jostle with every rough thrust, your core burned. White hot like a star in the sky and twisting until it then exploded into a marvellous sight but within you. Jon finally let it all begun to speak from wherever in his heart or mind bled black and possessive as you clenched around him while you came. A growling husk of a voice entrancing you to whatever he said, like a spell to bewitch you to his pounding cock inside of you. “Fuck, you're perfect.” Head dropping a bit again, Jons eyes almost fluttered closed once more as if he too, was losing himself in how you felt so tight and soaking around his cock. “You were made for this, made for me..made to take my cock,- you were born just to take my cock, darling,”

Cutting himself off, Jon shifted. Sinking deep suddenly, Jon yanked your thighs more up onto his hips as the indication to stay just like that was spoken. Hands rough slamming down to each side of your head, Jons cock pounding deep and shallow as deep as he could be inside of you, but you were trapped in his dark eyes. Hands reaching to grasp, he let you both interlock your fingers once more, one of your legs wrapping behind his back to try and pull him further inside of you.

Head flying back, you only looked back up to him, wide eyes beaming with unshed tears so overwhelmed and so tingling all over. Your breathless begs nothing but that of a sirens song in Jons mind. “I belong to you, Jon, gods- I promise I've always belonged to you, I'll always be yours.”

Cutting off the second you finished a breath, Jon roughly pressed his lips to yours. Hands locked together tightening as did your leg stay wrapped around him. Jon all but shoving his cock deep with pounds so rough were you on dry land, the echo would've bounced across the cave. Your walls clenched around him, only making him go harder, the water beneath you as loud moving with your bodies as was the falling one against the wall.

Tearing a cut into your lip with a hissing bite, Jon tore from your lips then. The saliva trailed between you as he refused to ease or slow how much his hips sunk deeply into yours, his eyes wide almost more in awe looking at you then from how you felt.

One hand let go, Jon cupped your jaw and cheek, refusing to let your head throw back in desire as she forced your eyes to watch his dark ones. No longer speaking, just watching as the pounding of his cock jostled your breasts as if this were a show for men in a brothel. Short cries, your now free hand grasped at his shoulder and you almost closed your eyes at how suddenly his cock drew an orgasm from you once more.

Your cunt begging for Jon to stay inside of you, he refused to not listen. Jon did not speed up, or grow rougher, but his voice did. Slurring and his northern accent heavier then it ever had been, he did not even wait for your begs and cries of nothing from your orgasm burning in your blood to calm before he started to say exactly what he refused to your first night together.

“Next time I want to get you pregnant, darling, you're not leaving my cock until you are.” Letting your cheek go, Jon wrapped an arm around your back and rose you up just the slightest off the ground. His cock sliding so easily inside of you, as the sudden colder air around meant the sounds mixed with a slap of skin in both of your ears. Your wetness more then the waters below as he sunk deep inside each single thrust. “Spill inside you for hours until my seed takes..you remember how I tied your hand to my headboard that night?”

Nodding meekly, your free hand only wrapped to rake through his curls as you failed to meet the demand of his cock slid so roughly in you where your soaked walls mixed obscene with the remains of his warm spend. Your voice failing you as your lungs were derived from air the more he fucked you.

That was fine, Jon continued on his own. Rambling to the degree neither you nor him were sure he really even knew what he was confessing. “I'm going to tie your beautiful legs up too, spread them wide so you have no other choice but to take me over and over. Oh fuck- you'll beg for me to never leave you-”

Gasping in the air, you too did not know that the throbbing of his cock inside of you matched the gutting feeling in his heart. “I already, gods- Jon I don't want you to stop now..or ever, please,”

His voice was as rough as it was genuine in reassurance, leaning down to press a chaste kiss opposite of how rough his cock was treating you. “This isn't where this ends, I promise. I'm getting us home, and I'll keep you with child as long as I can just to prove you I mean it. I'm never giving you up again, never.” In a moment Jons head dropped to your chest as you let go once more.

How many times had he brought you to a finish you did not know, but there were not overwhelmed from desire tears behind your eyes. But real ones, ones you did not hide as you begged his name as your orgasm flooded you like a wave on the sea. Meeting yours, Jon looked no more put together, face twisting when he had to pound harder to drive his cock as deep inside of your cunt, his lips parted in something just as overwhelming as he watched your tearful gaze.

Letting both of your hands free, you wrapped them around the back of his neck and desperately into his dark curls. Your begs so weak but raw clawing from your chest, “Everything you want, I promise. Whatever you want from me, I'll give it to you. Even if I screw this one up, I'll try again, give you a son I promise.”

Jon cutting you off, hardly was pulling from you anymore. Shallow thrusts so deep that his entire cock was soaking inside your warm walls, assuring you with a tone as gentle as your promises. “You've never done anything wrong, not with me.”

In truth, it should have made Jon feel more shameful, but he knew it'd be a lie if he pretended otherwise. It was nothing but honest in admitting that the sight of tears down your cheeks was what made him cum. Not mean or malicious, but it took all of your lifetime to be so open with him to cry like that as he fucked you, that it made him spill deeply inside of you once more. Hiding his face in your hair as Jon tucked you away in his neck as you both found ends with the other so closely connected.

Unlike that night in Castle Black, Jon refused to pull out of you. Keeping you tucked into his chest, Jon turned you both onto your side the second he slightly shifted you both from the water. Running his hand down your wet hair as he pulled it back loose properly, your legs tangled as he never left your cunt and you never even slightly indicated with your needy touch that you'd want him too. Only whispers of love, and that he promised, “It'll all be okay, darling.”

For once, even just until you fell asleep, you think you believed him.

Two different views of the land, that was what you had thought the North was. But thus far, the Frost Fangs had been showing most of only one side of such a view. The beauty was easy to see, it sat all around you in it's natural position. But it was also unforgiving as it was cruel. Stealing your breath as it did tearing away your ability to catch up. Each step rose higher and higher to the edges of such lands and yet you had not realized it was that day.

The snow sunk deep down the edge of the hill which you had been climbing, but up and up did you feel something dizzy in your bones. Not only you, all three of you felt it. Something in the air which was different and yet you pressed onward knowing stopping here in an uphill climb was not where it should have been discussed. It was months ago now you had asked Jon if the winter lands you walked towards ever ended, and you had not a clue what it would feel to find out.

Were you but a girl you'd wonder if a man could simply sail that far but the waters Jon said grew as cold as what was coming. That sailors many times have tried to see where it ends and got no further then their ships becoming trapped within the shifting ice and never could go further then the maps already known to the world.

It was not the same as the far stretches of east, the lands of Yi-Ti people did live there and the maesters did write about it, but it was not viable information provided. Much of the other lands were written with little knowledge of what really was there but all knew as far that people did live there. Survivable lands existed, most only did not get there and back with reliable knowledge. But this no one knew, no one came here and came back with stories to not be believed.

This far north, no one came back. Only one. Only a Stark. And only once.

One foot in front of the other with a held back need of air, but you three pressed forward as the top came into view. Exhausted and ragged, you hardly even registered it as your eyes did not look to the sky as you approached, only the snow and ice you walked upon, but it was no mistakening to be there. Waiting for you to see it as it wanted.

The other side of the sights was here, and it was that of memorizing terror. Seeing from afar was not a single bit the manner so close made you feel. It had you so dizzy you felt the wind knock your breath right from your lungs almost having you sway as you stood. The walls of the sky looked like night, but you and Jon had not been hiking for more then a few hours from dawn.

Pitch black it was, only there were curtains hanging from such walls and it was a shimmering green dancing in the air it existed in. Liquid poured into the black to entrap your eyes to its sights without every giving away too much of what it was. You had seen it since, you had seen it from the Nightfort, but it was nothing to this.

The Green was everywhere. It was all around and it danced as if speaking a language to the stars it hid in it's fabrics. Thoros of Myr had said it was mesmerizing and that was the perfect term. Neither you nor Jon spoke a word but watched with wide eyes and parted lips at it. Below though, was not the Frost Fangs.

Mountains were in the distance hidden by mists of snow and dark, but for a long stretch was a frozen wasteland of nothing. It would take days to cross and reach anything which turned into something other then a field of ice.

Jons hand ran gently over Ghosts fur as the direwolf looked to meet Jons eyes, something unspoken running between them in silence as his hand tightened. Ghost shifting a bit closer to him for a moment before his own voice managed to rasp out after what felt like years of silence in the blowing winds of green sights. “We'll make camp here tonight. Make sure we have enough with us before going out there.”

You said nothing, and until Jon had repeated your name a second time did you turn to look at him, your eyes still wide and unsure but in contrast he had sealed his expression closed and prepared. Only nodding, you turned back as the wind blew your hair in front of your face as if to obscure the view ahead. Had Bran made it this far? Where was he in the lands he too risked everything to go towards, was Benjen somewhere within these misty storms too?

There was no getting around what was to come, fear. It was fear and a desperate wish that you had figured out what you wanted before it had risked being too late. Most of your life what you wanted as irrelevant to what you were expected to do, therefore you hardly ever considered the answer to such a question. The first time you came up with one of your own volition, was perched in the arms of Robb Stark as you both finally knew despite all the war, a family was finally what was coming for you both.

Only, that was shattered. And a falsehood perpetuated by the red womans lies. Now though, your want was not for you. You had part of this. Twice. Jon never thought he'd have even a piece of it. What you wanted, was to have this child, to let him have a family, be a father the way he thought was not an option for him anymore. You wanted what Jon never thought he could have and yet you faced the unknown which none was said to return from.

Neither of you had spoken of the fact that no dreams nor vision had come you to the entire time you both were in the North. Nothing close to it had come, and the closer to the curtain of dancing green which you came the less you felt as if you were being guided somewhere. Because you were on the path it seemed, they had been trying to place you on for your entire life.

But the dreams and visions had never been comforting before, so the lack of them in this face, was not comforting now. Jon nor you acted to the other as if this was the end. It would not help, it would only make you panic more of such worries.

In your final night within the lands man could know to survive, Jon remained awake long after you had been curled up in chest. Bare under the fur together with the warmth of Ghost close on the other. His hands running over every inch of skin he could find and contemplated why he was not afraid. He had seen what led him here, and he had seen who asked him here. Not why or for what or anything of the sort, but Jon had led you here because it was the only answer he could get, the only ones which led to the fate dooming them all.

Perhaps it was death he was not afraid of, he had experienced it before as had you. But it was more then that, it was the fire within Jons soul telling him that it was useless for this to be where his life with you ended. The gods had moved so much in the worlds to bring you back to Jon, and he knew it was not just to end out in a frozen wasteland far from your home together.

The gods did not let Jon gift you with a child for him to never be born the way your son with Robb never had that chance. Many hours that final day, within the safety of the last home you had, Jon had wrapped his arms around you, and you him, hovered over your body as he sunk deep inside of you as your lips hardly once left his. It was quiet and peace even then, and Jon knew he had to hold all of your fear for you to keep going.

He did not have words to explain why he had known you brought him back from death, and Jon did not have words to explain why he knew he was bringing you, Ghost, and this baby all home, the four of you together. He just knew, and he trusted in that for his death and he trusted it now. You all belonged together and you all would fight to stay together, and so if he wasn't going to let himself feel that fear, then he'd hold onto that greater protectiveness.

In those final moments as Jons eyes felt heavy though, there were many he thought of. His siblings lost or gone, friends he had lost, a mother he never knew, and a father he wished he could tell he was sorry he thought he didn't trust more. But it was one face he thought of as he looked down at your slumbering self curled into his chest.

Jon could only hope Robb knew. This was not what he likely thought Jon meant when he said he'd protect you, when he'd take care of you. Jon wanted Robb to know he was sorry he didn't keep his wife safe from the world that killed her. But Jon would not apologize for not turning back and taking you home.

Jon told Robb he was sorry this was the life he gave you after Robb was gone, but Jon would not apologize for doing what the world needed. Keeping you and him together. You were Robbs once, but now you were Jons, and Jon was fighting a very different war then the one which killed his brother.

This war hadn't ended at one death in his heart, and Jon wouldn't give it a second so soon again.

It was the same formation thus far each day. Ghost close to one side of you, ensuring you could feel his large stature giving support as Jon drew you into his side as you both walked. It was not easy for any of them, but he'd never seen you struggle so much to keep going. Jon and Ghost had to be the ones to ensure you kept putting one foot forward each and every step they all made, but you were exhausted and the cold was bitter and horrible around you.

It bothered Jon and Ghost, it was brutal and freezing but yet it was as if it was worse for you. Not much of a voice beyond a strain in your throat but you would give enough to ensure you were alright, enough to ensure the little wolf pup inside of you was doing far better the you, yourself felt. It had to be enough.

The lands here did not end, so Jon kept you going.

Almost tripping over you feet at one point, Jon stopped. Turning to grasp you by the arms and you held his in return to steady yourself. “I'm fine, I promise.” One hand turned your face up by your chin to meet his eyes. Grey wide and worried as you looked less uncertain of the words coming from your ragged face. You were in a rough place, more then Jon and Ghost.

But Jon couldn't coddle you, he couldn't tell you not to push yourself the way he does, not this time. So, running a hand down your face, Jon gently warmed your cold lips with his as your hands came gently to hold at his waist, his free arm wrapped around your back pulling you into him. A chaste kiss all you shared, all the time asked of you, when the cold whirled.

Spinning around and around, did you and Jon part from one another as it plummeted in the already fatal winds. Ghost almost wrangled you into Jons chest, a growl low in the direwolf as Jon turned to look in one direction and you the other. There were no maps for where you were, but now there were no sights. Only the snowy mists.

Racing hearts beat in tandem, a match between all three of you as in such a clearing of nowhere in between mountain peaks did you become blind. A dagger clutched in your left hand, made of a black stone shining like glass, and the arm not around you, Jon had grasp tightly the hilt of Longclaw.

You knew what the cold, white winds meant and all stories of Old Nan said that only here did the white walkers come with it. They made no sound. A figure emerging from the blindness, a horse that was too obscured by snow to see, but you and Jon felt the cold freeze you to the spot and fuse weapons to your hands. Ghost kept you pressed up between he and Jon as the later never let you leave the safety of pulling you into his side.

Still as it approached, it made no sound. Graceful as if walking through a clearing meadow did it come face to face. Taller then any man you've ever met with eyes blue like crystals. Its skin, a blueish white like flesh made of milk and drenched in ice keeping it's beauty forever. It looked a man, but was not your kind at all, and you knew not what to think of it.

Ghost growled as did the sensation rumble through Jons tense limbs for a fight, but it only approached you the moment it climbed from its dead horse. Eyes first on Ghost, only to then look at you. Hardly six feet away did it stare at you down to your stomach. Not visible well under the sheepskin and your size at five months hardly what most women would call healthy out here, but it could be seen if known you were in such a state. The entire time it walked forward with eyes on you, until the wind around stopped.

It blew everywhere else, but not around the figure before you three. As soon as the winds stopped and cleared for only this creature, did it close the gap. Your hand could have broken you were holding the dragonglass so tensely, but you had not any thoughts you understood. None as you looked upon the death waiting to take you all as it stood in front of you in your waking, true life.

But Jon, he had seen him before. More then once. This thing had watched Jon kill one of it's own at Hardhome with the sword tight in his grip now, and he had looked Jon in the eye as he raised thousands of free folk with blue eyes to demonstrate one kill from him could not match thousands beside them. Then he invaded his dreams, more and more he watched Jon as he watched him until finally he called to him.

Jon was here for answers, and he would either get them from this creature, or kill it. But he would not turn empty handed, and he would not leave any of you behind. Whatever the Others wanted, they did not want it as much as Jon wanted to protect his home and his people, and he did not come out here idly to die before doing just that.

They stared at one another, Jons eyes so dark they painted black with a challenge on his expression to match Jon this time. Silence sat between them, pure silence as a white creature the height of half a giant, stared down at just a man, who no longer held fear for it.

But then it opened its mouth and a loud crackling like ice screamed out in your ears. Long and drawn out as if calling to something, and only as you and Jon looked around as the wind died down everywhere did you all realize it. It had tested if Jon would attack it, because animals and blue eyed corpses were in each direction you looked, it had you surrounded.

Before your eyes did the appearance of a great structure appear from the mists hiding the distance beforehand. It walked from you all towards such a strange fortress, but you could not turn back. It had you, Jon, and Ghost trapped in its home.

There was no turning back now. Only stepping forward into the jaws of a frozen death.

[vialdovi-artstuff]

Hc time , he is a reborn old god of chaos but that has been supressed by liu kang in an attempt to control/eliminate this energy. Since chaos cannot be eliminated and life needs chaos as a source of energy ,this eldritch chaos gos choose to reborn in havik/dairou body ,but it has been sleeping,dormant inside his heart and soul.

This reborn god ,even if sleeping has given him some 'unnatural abilities' this is much more strenght and his body is capable of resist heavy wounds,sickness and whatever really ( this is while he was a slave in seido but he didnt think of himself having powers, all that this did was to make him a freak, a useful workhorse for the seido goverment, maybe even a subject of experimentation).

After he escaped seido and found quan chi , he did in fact recieve "magic powers " but these were temporary after all quan chi can be quite the manipulator and and he may have wanted to keep havik at his side by always having going for more spells.

This magic however became a sort of key of energy that mutated along his eldritch one , where this chaos god is about to wake up but not yet.

This transmutated energy does not only work as just self healing but as an actual manipulator of flesh and blood ,starting with himself first.

What made him sort of woke up is an actual aversion towards fire , but not common fire.

Fire made of hate and rage, so it was not scorpion the one who actually made him mad but rather himself .

Supresed memories of an infinite chaotic universe born form a dark fire got to him and his mind started to fracture quite since he was in seido.

But the god is not fully awoken yet, the religious movement born from him and the people who actually sees him as actually leader worth of follow will play a part into awoke him.

Ok, this was much a ramble really but i needed to get my ideas put together around this silly man.

Will write the 2nd part soon

[roselyn-writing]

Hi! Can I request valentines HCs for Kuai Liang, Hanzo Hasashi, Takeda, Kung Lao! 💌❤️💝🍫

Valentine’s day Hcs for Kuai Liang, Hanzo Hasashi, Takeda Takahashi, And Kung Lao.

Valentine's day is coming right up for you Molly!

Kuai Liang/Subzero

Five years ago, you met your soulmate. Kuai Liang, The Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei.

You love him so much and he loves you too, Since today is Valentine’s day, you decided to make a surprise for him. You went to the kitchen, Preparing to make a red heart-shaped cake for him.

You have all the ingredients you want, you put the ingredients all together and stirred them, then after a while, the cake is ready.

After Kuai finished the training session, he went to his room. That you both share, at first he was surprised to sniff a beautiful scent, rose petals on the ground. He sees you wearing a beautiful medium-length pink dress with hearts on it.

“Y/n.. you look beautiful!” He said to you.

“Really? Thank you! Love~” you replied,

He smiles at you, he had saw the room, and the beautiful decorations you had put in it, the big cake you had put on a table, tea, and valentine's plates and letters.

“Oh! It is valentine's day!!” He muttered, giving himself a light facepalm,

You saw that he hid something behind him, and he walks to you while smiling at you.

“Here is your gift my love~” he whispers lovingly,

“Thank you! Here is yours too,” you thanked him, and gave him his present.

Subby giving you a known look, you knew immediately what he wants and that is more than a kiss or putting a hand on his chest in a loving way.

“Come here, I want to feel you now~” He demanded, lovingly.

“I’m coming dear!” You obeyed him.

Hanzo Hasashi

Every person in the world knows that you belong to Hanzo, No one dares to lay a hand on you knowing that Hanzo is still alive. Hanzo made it perfectly clear that you are his, you belong to him and no one will touch you, or they would pay the price.

Hanzo knows you from when you were a nurse in the sky temple, that time when he was recovering from being a slave of Quan chi, you were there to help him recover and forget the pain in his soul and in his heart.

No one had ever been nice to him, knowing that he once was the infamous Scorpion, Slave of Quan Chi, But you decided to help him, lot of nurses and people told you to stay away from him for your sake, for your own good.

But you defied them all, and decided to help him despite everything, he was a ruined man, broken to the core, and he needed help at that time. And you were there to help him.

You fully remembered his reaction when you first met him, he was aggressive at first, but, in time he becomes soft towards you, you saw the knowing looks he gave, since, you are the only female who is kind to help him.

*Present time*

“Koibito~ I love you~,” Hanzo said to you

“I love you too~ Koibito~” you replied while playing with your hair.

He didn’t know of the surprise that you are preparing for him, he is indeed in for a surprise.

Hanzo is holding the teacup, as he was pondering your beauty, he always asks himself what he did to deserve a beauty like you. He is just happy with you, he is over the moon as they say.

“I want you to come in the room, you know~” you muttered, as you winked at him.

“Okay!” He uttered,

You hurriedly walk to your room, preparing the surprise, clutching the Valentine confetti cannon. 🎉

As soon as Hanzo’s leg steps into the room, you shot the confetti, alerting him and he holds the sword.

“Koibito! Relax! It is just confetti!” You joked with him

“Koibito! You scared me!” He yelped,

“Sorry, Koibito~” you apologized,

“No.. it is okay! Let us enjoy Valentine's day~” he replied,

“You are right,” you chuckled,

Then both of you kissed, enjoying your Valentine's day. 💘💝💌🍰

Takeda Takahashi

Never in your life that you thought you are going to celebrate Valentine’s day with your soulmate, Someone like Takeda. You love him, you love everything about him. You know everything about him.

You know that he had been raised in a clan called the Shirai Ryu, and he has some sort of a Ninja lifestyle. You pretty much know everything about him. That’s why you love him!

You decided, that you wanted to surprise him with chocolate heart-shaped sweets! He loves chocolate and you decided that you will make chocolates for him!

You went into the kitchen, melted chocolate in a bowl, then you grabbed a heart-shaped mold added the melted chocolate to it, then, you went to put the mold in the fridge.

After an hour, you cut open the red velvet lid to sprinkle the chocolate you made with it, you also decorated the chocolate with a white chocolate drizzle. After that, you put the chocolate you made into a lovely heart-shaped box.

You went to Takeda into the S.F HQ. You saw him with his friends, Cassie, Jacqui, and Jin.

You boldly walk to them, in the middle of his talking, you gently tapped on his shoulder with your finger.

“Hey Tak~ Happy Valentin’s day!” You greeted then gave him the chocolate box.

“Hey! Y/N!” He greeted back,” Oh. You didn’t have to but thank you for the treat!!” Takeda thanked you, with the known smile and look he gives you.

Takeda took a bite of the chocolate and he was over the moon, he was enjoying every bite of the chocolate you made it. He kept eating piece by piece. By the looks of it, you know he loves the gift you gave him.

“I’m glad that you liked it! I’m going now bye!” You said, then left

You left his friend speechless, they were also speechless by Takeda's reaction, they thought he was just overreacting because he didn’t want to embarrass you, but it seems he likes the chocolate you made!

Kung Lao

Everyone thought that Kung Lao would never get a soulmate! But you appear and silence them all. No one had ever thought of this, Usually, Kung Lao is the laughingstock of MK, But with you, they respect him and love him, because you inspire them to respect him as well.

You are his powerful Soulmate, you are a powerful sword-woman, and you defeated all of Kung Lao’s friends even Liu Kang. With you, Kung Lao has some sense of peace and agency. Since you are very strong and bold in everything you do.

Usually, they respect him so that you won’t kick their asses, but now, they respect him for real.

Now you Celebrate Valentine’s day with him, you make for him chocolate chip cookies, Red velvet macaroons, and a bunch of handwritten love letters on heart-shaped paper.

He is so happy, he has everything he ever wanted, he loves you, and he showers you with love letters and mooncakes.

Both of you sat in a beautiful place near the riverbank, you put your picnic basket and picnic rug.

Both of you sat on the rug, and you put everything in place, food, sweets, and love letters.

“Happy Valentine’s day, My love~” you started, smiling at him

“Happy Valentine’s day to you too!” He replied while putting his mooncake plate on the picnic rug.

Both of you exchanged gifts and words, and both of you talked and ate the food, Enjoying your time with each other.

Happy Valentine’s day people <3, from your favourite author 🖤🖤.

[uramii]

Continued from x with @lady-scorpion-and-friends

At the very least her mental faculties were in order. That's a great sign. Ganondorf wouldn't celebrate openly or otherwise but this was surely a victory. The distance between them was no more. Betraying his previous movements, he was gentle in placing the tray down in front of her. The dome lid over the plate was lifted just as tenderly, revealing a roasted piece of chicken, an assortment of vegetables on the side and then mashed potatoes. He discarded the dome with impunity and his posture reset nearly immediately.

"A few days. Three to be exact." He addressed her question while getting a good look at her. Thus far he had suspicions as to what she was beyond a slave but it didn't hurt to confirm what you may already know. Which led him to say

"I found you discarded in the fields. Were you fleeing someone? Your injuries tell me you got into a fight. At the very least, a struggle." Not exactly blunt but he wanted her to choose to share this information with him.

[roses-r-rosie3]

Welcome!

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Why Don’t you write for FTM/MTF?

- I personally do not know how that feels like so I don't think I can really do your request justice and I don’t really feel comfortable writing for that

(If you have any more questions you want to ask me, feel free to message me!)

Get to know me!

• I am Asian

• I am a kpop Stan, and most of my stories are named after a kpop song or a line in a kpop song (don’t judge me)

• I usually take a really long time to make fics so don’t be concerned if I haven’t made you’re request

• Artists I listen to: Aespa, AleXa, Ariana Grande, Baby Monster, Beabadoobee, Bibi, Blackpink, Conan Gray, Dream Catcher, (G) I-dle, GOT The Beat, Itzy, Ive, Jini, K/DA, Kiss Of Life, Lana Del Rey, Laufey, Lee Chaeyeon, Le Sserafim, Little Mix, Lyn Lapid, Madison Beer, Mad Tsai, Mamamoo, Mave, Melanie Martinez, New Jeans, Nmixx, Olivia Rodrigo, Poppy, Red Velvet, Sarah Cothran, Soojin, Stayc, Taeyon, Taylor Swift, Twice, and XG

• I change my pfp every 5 seconds💀

• I watched scream, Fear street, wolf pack, lab rats, literally any marvel movies/shows, some dc movies/shows, and a lot more!

[montywithchildhoodtrauma]

SAMS & MAFS Incorrect quotes because... I don't know at this point

Old Moon: cocks gun and points it at Sun Go to Bed. This is no longer a request, This is now a Threat.

Old Moon: You spent money on THIS?? Old Sun, putting tiny raincoats on ducklings: They live outside. They need this.

Earth: Words ending in 'ie' just sound so adorable. Like cutie, sweetie, cookie- Moon: Eyy, homie! Eclipse: But then there's cootie… Monty: Die.

Harvest: Treat spiders the way you want to be treated! Bloody: Killed without hesitation.

Lunar: Kinda sad* Are you a cuddler? Bloody: We a machine of death and destruction. Lunar: Harvest: …Yeah, we cuddle.

Harvest: What if Cinderella was a baking slave instead of a cleaning slave, and her name was Mozzarella? Bloody: Don't ever speak to me again.

Puppet: Don't have a bookmark? Try ketchup instead!! Lunar: What makes you think I read?

Earth: Are you coming to bed? Monty: I can't. This is important. Earth: What? Monty: Someone is wrong on the internet.

Harvest: Bloody! This soup is flaccid! Bloody: LITERALLY WHAT THE FUCK DOES THIS MEAN?!

Lunar: Is anyone going to tell me what's going on in here?! Eclipse: It's kind of complicated, but Monty- Lunar: Got it. Forget I asked.

Sun: About to do something incredibly stupid Moon: I know I can't stop you, but I won't let you go by yourself.

Monty: What if mayonnaise came in cans? Foxy: Well, that would suck because you can't microwave metal. Lunar: Good morning to everyone except these two people.

Sun: Well Moon, I have to say, I'm really disappointed. Moon: Well, you didn't HAVE to say it. You could've just thought it.

Earth: We’re all in this together. If one of us falls, we all fall. Nobody is expendable on this team. Harvest: Sounds fake but ok.

Foxy: Good morning! Sun: Is it? Is it really?

Harvest: Everything will be ok. You can not stop it. Harvest: Everything will be fine. You have no choice. Sun: What the fuck kind of pep talk is that? Harvest: Ominous positivity.

Eclipse: I think I mostly want to see what happens when this whole place breaks apart.

KC, pointing a camera at Rays: There they are, our sweet baby. Rays, holding a cigarette and a beer: What-?

Eclipse: Don’t weep for the stupid. You’ll be crying all day.

Bloody: is throwing stones at KC's window KC: You have a phone for a reason, Bloody! THUD KC: DID YOU JUST THROW YOUR PHONE AT MY WINDOW?!

Rays: Where are you going? Monty: To either get ice cream or commit a felony. I'll decide on the way.

Lunar: Do you have any skeletons in your closet? Old Moon: Literally or figuratively? Lunar: I have to specify?

Lunar: working in a flower shop and minding their own business Bloody, storming into the store and slapping $20 on the counter: HOW DO I PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVELY SAY “FUCK YOU” IN FLOWER???

KC: Answers phone. Hello? Moon: It's Moon. KC: What did they do this time? Moon: No, it's me, KC. It's actually me. KC: What did you do this time?

Lunar: .. .----. -- / … --- .-. .-. -.-- (translation: I'M SORRY) Sun: What's that? Lunar: Remorse code. Sun: I'm even angrier now.

Harvest: Next time I'm at the pet store, I'm gonna take a hamster and drop it in the scorpion cage. I wanna see what a hamster's face looks like when it goes, "oh, fuck."

Moon, hungover: Please tell me I'm imagining that I claimed I was king of the ducks. KC: I would, but then I would be lying to the King of All Ducks.

Monty: Dom or sub? Sun: I guess Domino's, since I don't go to Subway that much. Don't see why you'd put them in the same category though.

Foxy, gardening: Hey, can you bring me the hoe? Sun: Yeah, sure. A few minutes later Sun: Here you go. Foxy: Sun: Monty: Why am I here?

Sun: is effectively running on 5% battery* Is the pink panther a lion? Moon: Say that again but slower. Sun: I don’t get it. Moon: He’s a PANTHER. Sun: Is that a type of lion? Moon: No, it’s a fucking panther. Sun: googles panther They aren’t pink? Moon: AND LIONS ARE?!

Sun: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast? Earth: Several traffic violations. Lunar: Three counts of resisting arrest. Monty: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks. Moon: Also, that’s not our car.

[thelastranger]

how would you rank the brotherband books?

Sorry for the delay! I just finished recuperating after the wedding last week!

It's been a hot minute since I re-read most of the books so it's mostly based on what I can remember and vibes

Slaves of Socorro/Scorpion Mountain The stories are self contained but I view them as a little duology because of the presence of Gilan. They're the top to me because we still get some really good character beats, the characters are established and skilled but not flanderized (Flanaganized?) at this point, we get to visit fleshed out new locations, and there's memorable villains. The banter is great and honestly Gilan just adds a certain je ne sais quoi that really boosts the Herons. Lydia setting fire to the marketplace while Ingvar and the gang break out of prison will never not be amusing to me.

The Outcasts/The Invaders/The Hunters A close second, I'm ranking these three as a singular entity although I'm really partial to the Outcasts. The Herons are at their peak characterization here and it shows. Again, I will always find Erak "exiling" a bunch of sixteen year olds hilarious.

Ghostfaces/The Caldera Not my favorites but there are some classic scenes with Stig in both and Stig is always good for mining some emotions. I'm a sucker for Byzantium so fantasy Byzantium will always be a win.

The Stern Chase I had a lot of hope for this one but it was pretty disappointing. Even though it's set in Skandia, it's pretty nondescript. The only thing I liked was the Lydia and the twins bantering over wedding planning (is this what the millenials who grew up and aged as Harry Potter did felt?). Thr twins deserve to steal all the attention with their custom threads

The Return of the Temujai I don't think I could tell you a single thing that happened in this book besides the Heron getting destroyed. I think Lydia threatens the leader? Ranked last.

[fsfghgee]

I'm glad to see that there are more people supporting Sekhan's ship, I really like him a lot, they look good together and I think they are perfect for each other. By the way, I loved your HC about them as a couple. I'm not the anonymous person who requested it, but I will be the anonymous person who will ask you if by any chance you can think of more HC? seriously, you write them very well 😸

Bi-Han and Sektor have a common agreement not to show affection in public so that no enemy can use their feelings for each other as a weakness and to maintain the respect of their subordinates in the clan.

If Bi-Han and Sektor were married, their relationship would not be an issue among their subordinates, but Bi-Han and Sektor see no point in getting married until the Lin Kuei rule Earthrealm.

Before Titan Havik's invasion of the fire god's timeline, the only ones who knew the true nature of Sub-Zero's relationship with Sektor were Liu Kang and Scorpion. Kuai Liang knew because one day he pressured his older brother to admit that he admired more than just Sektor's intelligence and had not made the armorer's daughter second in command just because she was smart. Liu Kang just confirmed his suspicions with the help of Geras and a peek into the hourglass. Cyrax and Smoke were only suspicious of their intense exchange of glances and frequent getaways.

Sektor apologized to Bi-Han for breaking their agreement by showing affection to him in public after finding him already turned into Noob Saibot and taking him to Liu Kang to beg him to restore him. She apologized on the first night they spent together after Bi-Han defeated Havik. Bi-Han waved away her apologies and thanked her for not giving up on him.

When Bi-Han regained control of his own mind after being transformed into Noob Saibot, seeing Sektor's face was like feeling a cool breeze in a scorching heat. He thought he would never see her again, much less be able to do whatever he wanted again. He was ashamed of having failed to kill Havik and become his slave. But he would never forgive himself if he had eliminated Sektor as Havik had ordered him to do.

He was ashamed of his new appearance and tried to push Sektor away when she tried to show him affection and how much she had missed him. He only felt confident again after she assured him that she had fallen in love with his soul and not with his looks.

When Bi-Han met Sektor, she was the first woman in the clan who looked him in the eye and the first person who showed real interest in his dreams and ambitions for the Lin Kuei. She talked to him as if she knew him well. And the connection he felt with her was like no other. He could talk to her for hours without getting bored or annoyed, he could do the things she loved every day without wishing he were anywhere else, he could admire her every day and even when was beside her in the bed he could hardly believe that she was finally his. She was everything he could ever want in a woman.

It was Sektor who explained to Bi-Han how that worked. And having been the first and only woman in the cryomancer's life, since his first kiss, truly filled her with pride. She would always protect the greatest good she had ever conquered.

Just as his younger brother went unnoticed without triggering his inner fire, Bi-Han also did not arouse suspicion as a cryomancer without triggering his inner cold. When Bi-Han was not using his powers, his skin was only slightly colder than that of an ordinary human being. Nothing difficult to get used to. But Bi-Han could not help but be upset that he was not able to warm Sektor with just a hug on colder nights. Sektor always reassured him about this, that being born and raised in Arctika (like all Lin Kuei born in the main clan) had already given her more than enough resistance to extreme cold.

Any place where they could be together, and in private, to enjoy each other's company was the best place in the world. But their favorite meeting places were in open spaces to admire the beautiful landscapes of Arctika. And because of this preference and Bi-Han's concern for Sektor, her closet was full of expensive coats.

To Sektor, Bi-Han was perfect. As much as his impulsiveness and recklessness sometimes gave her headaches, these flaws were only a consequence of his courage and confidence, two of the many things that made her fall in love with the cryomancer. And she would never try to change the man she loved.

Sektor deeply respects Bi-Han as a Grandmaster and Bi-Han deeply respects her as Master Armorer and second in command of the Lin Kuei.

Because of the respect she has for him as a Grandmaster, she did not judge him for having trusted Shang Tsung and helped him free General Shao from prison in OutWorld. However, after Shao's rebellion failed and he refused to fulfill his part of the deal, she asked Bi-Han to never make another such important decision without talking to her first. And Bi-Han agreed.

Sektor combs Bi-Han's hair every day. She enjoys brushing his long, straight hair, keeping it well-groomed, and watching (and hearing) how relaxed he is while she grooms him.

Bi-Han often has to carry Sektor to bed, as she works overtime and often falls asleep on the desk in her office.

To outsiders, Bi-Han may appear to be a selfish man, but in reality he is a very generous leader and was greatly appreciated within the clan for this (and many other things) even before his father's death. Bi-Han's generosity to those he cares about is broad, but it is incomparable to his generosity to those he loves. There is nothing he would deny Sektor. She only has to ask and he will stop at nothing to get what she wants. Lucky for Bi-Han, she would do the same for him.

.......

More Bi-Han and Sektor headcanons at the link below:

https://www.tumblr.com/fsfghgee/759926670642823169/if-sektor-and-bi-han-really-were-a-couple-what?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/fsfghgee/761082190970978304/hi-i-saw-a-very-funny-post-from-a-person-who?source=share