and look at his arms


Requested by @vigilante24-Dany at Dragonstone post 7x05 worried about Jon. Title kind of inspired by the song from Hamilton. 

She’d never realized how big Dragonstone was until Jon left. All of a sudden, the rooms that she’d given to the northerners-the rooms she’d avoided like a sickness-were no longer off limits. 

She lingered in those rooms, especially in Jon’s; it looked like it hadn’t been lived in. He’d left everything meticulously clean; no clothes hung in the closet, there was no dirt on the floor from his shoes. Even the bed was made neatly but severely, the corners pulled straight and even. The pillows barely smelled of his sharp, clean, woodsy scent-she didn’t let anyone wash them, for fear that smell would disappear altogether and she’d have nothing left of him. 

What if he died somewhere beyond the Wall, alone and freezing in the cold? How would she know if he never returned? 

“Your Grace?”

“Hmm?” She looked up from her plate, cutting a slab of meat into fifths and then tenths. Tyrion was looking at her the way he always did these days, as if he wasn’t sure what-if anything-to make of her. As if she’d changed and he didn’t recognize her. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“I understand you’re worried about Lord Snow, but please at least try and pay attention-”

“I am paying attention. Speak.” She looked at him head on, daring him to bring up the fact that this had been his idea and if Jon died that would be his fault too. 

“I only wanted to say that just because Lord Snow is gone, that doesn’t mean we should stop preparing for what happens when we meet with Cersei. She knows she’s at the disadvantage and my sister has never been one to take her fate lying down-”

“Will she try to kill us?”

“If she thinks there’s any way she can get away with it, she’ll try-” He realized that her attention had drifted out the window, as if at any moment she expected a boat flying the Stark standard to round the corner into the harbor. “Your Grace.” 

She turned back, abashed. “I’m paying attention.”

“You can’t bring him back by wishing for him.” His voice had gone soft…did she detect a hint of understanding in it? “And you won’t save him by worrying about him.”

“It was an idiotic idea. Cersei might not even believe us, even with proof.”

“I believe it was better than doing nothing.” His voice was short, as if his patience with her was already running low. “Remember who you are. Remember how much rests on your shoulders. This army of the dead can wait.” 

“But what if Jon doesn’t come back?” 

“He’ll be fine. He’s fought them before.”

“We’d throw away all of the ties we’re trying to strengthen with the North-”

“If something happens to Jon, his title will pass to his oldest sister Sansa. I know Sansa, personally-she’s smart and levelheaded and she hates Cersei more than her brother does. I’m sure we can find an ally in her.” But Sansa wasn’t Jon, and they both knew it. Tyrion sighed, gesturing towards the open balcony doors. “Fine. Go look for him. You won’t find anything.”

She knew it, but she couldn’t help looking anyway. The sky was grey and cloudy, with clouds full of precipitation hanging low on the horizon-and the choppy water was devoid of ships; only what remained of her fleet at harbor bobbing on the sea. 

Jon hadn’t returned. Not today. 

It shouldn’t matter. She shouldn’t be thinking about him-thinking about anyone-the way she was. 

He wasn’t the first to love you and he won’t be the last. She dug her fingertips into the stone railing so hard they turned white. But she wasn’t in love with him. He wasn’t in love with her. They couldn’t be. She’d been in love before and it hadn’t felt like this. It hadn’t consumed her every waking minute, making her long for him when he was away. 

She couldn’t be in love with him. She didn’t have time for love. She had too many masks to wear, too many walls to build around herself. She could never be with him fully, just him and her with their hearts bared to each other. 

Love couldn’t be so frightening. Please tell me I haven’t sent him to his death. 

She’d had such a terrible feeling about it but she hadn’t been able to tell him. She hadn’t been able to tell him that she couldn’t lose him, that his people couldn’t lose him, that the only reason she’d tried to exercise her power over him was because she thought it would keep him with her. She hadn’t been able to tell him that her heart had hammered in her throat when he’d left and hadn’t looked back. She’d wanted to leap into his arms. She’d wanted to kiss him. 

She couldn’t just stay here and do nothing. But she didn’t have a choice. 

And until then, she couldn’t think-even to herself-that she loved him. 

I’ve got to write some meta on how Dany’s feelings change from 7x03 to 7x05 (especially that moment in the war room). I have too many feels. 

Short and (hopefully) sweet. 

Send me prompts, send me headcanons, send me asks-send me anything to feed my trash obsession lol 

Aroooo ~
Still playing around with quick & sketchy styles, hoping I can whip out a full painterly painting by April 1st!
haha not gonna happen I’m afraid



“That was very unnecessary.”
Not pictured: Luna slappin’ his galahdian soul out

Wounds & Blood
for @ffxvrarepairsweek