Title: Doomed from the Start Fandom: Game of Thrones Word Count: 2,480 Characters: Jon Snow x Reader x Robb Stark Reader Gender: Female Warnings: Cheating (sort of), a bit of smut (Jon x Reader), one swear word Notes: Request from anon for “Could you do a GOT oneshot where you come to Winterfell bc you’re betrothed to Robb Stark. You develop a crush on Jon Snow but eventually marry Robb bc you love him as well and you were betrothed. Fast forward to after the Red Wedding(so around current season) and you see Jon again when he agrees to help you take back Winterfell and re-instate yourself as Queen in the North, and you fall for him again? Long request, I know, but its just something I thought of :) xx” // I tried to keep myself from making this so long, but as you can tell by the word count, I failed.
When you arrived at Winterfell for the first time, you never would have expected your life to become what it was now.
You had arrived five months before you were to wed Robb Stark, the heir to Winterfell, so that you could get to know him a bit before you married him. He was a handsome young man, tall, with dark brown curls and the beginning of a beard. His smile was warm and welcoming, and he treated you with twice as much respect as most men your age would have. He never touched you unless he knew you wanted him to, and he was always kind and considerate. And yet, you also developed feelings for his half-brother, Jon Snow. He, too, was immensely kind and respectful. But he was different, in ways you couldn’t explain. You loved Jon because you knew shouldn’t. He was what you could never have, and that only made you desire him more. The situation would have been far easier if Jon hadn’t been interested in you, but that was not the case. He cared for you just as much as you cared for him. He stole kisses from you when no one was around, and touched you in ways that made your head spin. He even suggested running away together, the night before your wedding. But you had to decline his offer. You were meant to marry Robb – it was your duty. So that was what you did. You donned the elaborately embroidered white dress, wrapped the white fur cloak around your shoulders, let your handmaidens do your hair up nicely and spray you with perfume, and you made your way to the godswood. You said the words the septon told you to say, and before you knew it, you were standing with your new husband, alone in his bedchambers. “I’m not…” Robb began, wringing his hands together and looking remarkably nervous. “I’m not going to force you to do anything you do not wish to do. I hope you know that.” “I do,” you replied. “Good, good,” Robb murmured, nodding. “I know that you love my brother. I know that you did not wish to marry me. And I’m truly very sorry that you weren’t able to be with him instead. I hope you know that, as well.” “I do,” you repeated, your voice soft. You could not meet his eyes. Here he was, a handsome, charming, kind man of a noble House, and here you were, on the night of your wedding to him, wishing you were in the arms of his bastard half brother. “Good,” Robb said quietly again, nodding more. “Do… do you want to go to bed? Just to sleep, of course. You must be tired.” “I would like that very much,” you stated, smiling at him. He returned the smile, then the two of you changed into your night clothes, and went to bed. The union was extraordinarily awkward at first. However, over the next few weeks, the two of you fell into sync as you began to understand one another better. Everything was going surprisingly well, even with the arrival of King Robert and his company – then Jon announced that he would be joining the Night’s Watch. A look of absolute heartbreak crossed your face, and everyone saw it. You excused yourself, your voice shaking, and once you were out of the hall, you broke into a run. You weren’t sure at first of where you were going, but you ended up in your bedchambers. You stopped once you had slammed the door shut behind you, and sobs overtook your body, forcing you to your knees in front of the fireplace. The crackling fire warmed your face, but you didn’t care. You wouldn’t have cared if it caught you on fire; all you wanted to do right then was to just simply not exist. The pain of knowing that you would never see the man you loved again was almost too much to bear. The second that thought crossed your mind, Robb burst into the room, looking frantic. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw you, closed the door behind him, and came to kneel next to you. He opened then closed his mouth a few times, clearly wanting to say something, but he was at a loss for words. So he did the only thing he knew he could do: pulled you into his arms and held you. He let you cry until you had no tears left, and you were exhausted, then he put you into your bed and you allowed sleep to envelop you. You hardly left your room for the next few days. The thought of seeing Jon, and being faced with the reality of his leaving, was too much for you. So, either your handmaidens or your husband brought you food, and you remained reclusive, up until the night before Jon to leave. You actually hadn’t been planning on seeing Jon until the next day. Your intention was to keep your interaction with him to a bare minimum, thinking that you would simply give him a simple farewell hug before he departed. But your life never works the way you plan it to. The hallway was eerily silent, no sound other than yours and Greywind’s footsteps. Robb had insisted that you take the direwolf with you on your walk, and you complied. In truth, you were quite fond of the creature. He was more than capable of warding off any potential threats, and protecting you if needed; he made you feel at ease. Well, that was until you heard footsteps trudging towards you, and Greywind didn’t seem capable of caring any less. You walked a bit faster, and the direwolf matched your pace, but the footsteps did, too. Terror began to bubble up inside you. Greywind sensed this, walking a bit closer to you, but he still did not seem to have any desire to attack your follower. After you made a sharp turn around a corner, you drew the knife that you kept concealed on you, and waited for the owner of the footsteps to follow. When the individual turned the corner, you slammed him back against the wall and put your knife at his throat. Fear was evident in his brown eyes, and when you realized that those eyes were all too familiar, you dropped the knife. “Jon?” “I thought I would get a ‘hello,’ not a knife to my neck,” Jon stated with a chuckle. “What are you doing out at this hour?” “Why were you following me?” you retorted, crossing your arms. “You frightened me; I thought you were a threat.” “I’m sorry, I just wanted to talk with you. I haven’t seen you in days,” Jon said, sadness seeping into his voice. “I leave tomorrow at dawn.” “I know that.” “Then why have you been avoiding me?” “I’m a married woman now, Jon. I can’t be spending time with the man I love – who, it just so happens, is not the man I’m married to,” you explained, frowning. You saw happiness flash across his features at the mention of your love for him, and he smiled. “I love you, too, Y/N. And that’s why it hurts me so much that you’ve been avoiding me like I’ve got a disease since the day you married Robb.” “Because it doesn’t matter. My feelings for you, your feelings for me – none of it matters. I’m married to your brother, and you’re leaving to join the Watch tomorrow. We were doomed from the start.” “We didn’t have to be,” Jon stated, stepping towards you. “I asked you to run away with me, but you refused.” “I couldn’t,” you whispered. You wished now more than ever that you had taken him up on his offer, and you felt tears threatening to fall. You expected Jon to argue with you, to remind you that you could be a thousand miles from there, married to him – but instead, he tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him. His brows were furrowed together, and he was visibly upset at the sight of you crying. You were about to excuse yourself and return to your room, when you felt his lips on yours. The kiss was tender at first – it was Jon’s way of wordlessly comforting you, and letting you know that he wasn’t upset with you for not leaving with him. He understood your reasons, and he hoped you knew that. Guilt began to form within you. You were kissing a man who wasn’t your husband. As wonderful and heart-fluttering as it felt, you knew it wasn’t right. You were on the verge of pulling away, then Jon’s hands found their way into your hair and onto your hip, and he kissed you with such passion that it made your head spin. You forgot your own name, let alone that you should be running back to your husband – and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not a half hour later, you found yourself naked on Jon’s bed, his head between your trembling legs and your thighs resting on his shoulders. Your mind was fuzzy, filled with nothing but thoughts of Jon and what his tongue was doing to you. You eventually lost track of how many times he caused you to to scream from ecstasy, his name falling from your lips like a pleading, pitiful prayer. When you simply couldn’t continue, your body becoming too sensitive to handle any more, you used your remaining strength to flip Jon onto his back, and worship him with your mouth, as he had done to you. Time ceased to exist in the little world you and Jon had created together. All that mattered was one another, the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around your naked body for the last time, the sound of his still-steadying heartbeat pounding in his chest. But eventually, it had to come to an end, and after a few longing kisses, you made your way back to your room, guilt-ridden and exhausted. “How was your night?” The sound of Robb’s voice nearly made you jump out of your skin. You slowly turned to face him after closing the door behind you. Greywind was calmly seated next to his feet, and he sat on your bed, his expression unreadable. There wasn’t any point in lying – you were covered in hickeys, your hair was a mess, your lips were swollen, and your dress was still disheveled. “Robb….” “I’m not angry with you, if that’s what you’re worried about. The only reason Jon even touched you was because I gave him permission, so long as he wasn’t inside you.” “You… you what?” you inquired, taking a few steps closer to him. “He… you… you consented to this?” “I know how much you love him. And I know how much he loves you. I wanted you to have the opportunity to be together one final time, before you’d never see each other again,” Robb explained, then a smile crossed his lips and he let out a small laugh. “And besides, soon, the poor fucker won’t ever get to touch a woman again – not without breaking his oath.” You were at a loss for words. You couldn’t come to terms with how immensely considerate and understand your husband was. Without another thought, you ran to him and flung your arms around his neck, causing him to fall back into the bed with a chuckle. After he received a near-endless string of “thank you”s, the two of you went to bed, as usual, and you fell asleep with a smile on your face. The next day, you said your goodbyes to Lord Eddard, Sansa, Arya, and last – but most certainly not least – Jon. He gave you a warm smile and enveloped you in a tight embrace, letting you cry into his chest. After what seemed like ages, he released you, and pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. Jon then gave you another heartwarming smile, before riding off with the rest of the company. You watched until you could no longer see him, then let out a shaky breath. Robb wrapped a reassuring arm around your shoulders, and led you back to your room.
As fate would have it, you did fall in love with Robb. It was never the same way you loved Jon – never as fierce – but you did love him. Eventually, you gave him a son. He was the spitting image of his father, from his looks to his personality. However, Robb was taken from you both, before your son was old enough to make any lasting memories with his father – something that would sadden you for the rest of your life. But you didn’t have time to be sad – you needed to run, to protect your son. So you took as many of the remaining Stark soldiers that you could find, and you left immediately. After a stay on Bear Island, you reached your destination. It was the only place where you knew that you would find someone you truly trusted: Castle Black. Upon arrival, you were quickly taken to the dining hall, your son clinging to you as you held him. They flung the doors open without requesting permission first, as the man who had led you, who had introduced himself as Edd, had been told of you “several times” by Jon. He said it with a slight blush on his cheeks, and you quickly realized that you had been the subject of a conversation on sexual encounters. Men, you thought to yourself with a small smile. Jon quickly stood from his seat at one of the tables, and it seemed that he was about to chide the men for interrupting his meeting. You were surprised to see Sansa at his side, and you sent a silent prayer to the gods, thanking them for keeping her alive. The sound of Jon’s boots thundering against the wood floor as he walked briskly over to you broke you from your thoughts. He stared at you with a bewildered expression on his face, as if struggling to believe that you were real. Before you could even say “hello,” he was pulling you into a tight hug, mindful of the child in your arms. “I love you,” Jon whispered into your hair, pressing a long kiss there. “I love you, too, Jon.”
It seemed to have happened in the blink of an eye, but you were now seated next to Jon in the dining hall of Winterfell, your son seated in your lap, watching the scene before him. Dozens of men were chanting “The King in the North!” in their loud, booming voices, their swords raised high above them. Jon smiled down at you, and for once in ages, you felt hope.
I'm trying to write something with modern hitmen/assassins. Anything really important I might have looked over while researching?
Okay, if I’m being honest, there is no possible way I can
answer this question. My psychic powers have failed me. I don’t know what
research you’ve done nor how exhaustive it was. As a result, I don’t have any
idea what you might have missed.
I can point you at our relevant tags for assassins and writing them. But, I can’t tell you what
your research covered or failed to cover. There’s simply, no way for me to know
As with any kind of research, the first thing you’re going
to want to do is start by identifying the core literature from the field. You can
do this by simply looking at the Wikipedia references, and then following up with those. (The actual Wikipedia articles are usually worthless for
research, but what the editors cited can be a valuable starting place.) Once
you’ve started reading those sources, see what multiple sources reference. If
someone’s worth talking about, then they’re probably worth reading. If no one’s
referencing what you’re starting with, then it may be a sign that the source isn’t really that important. If it is cited, it will either be important
information for the subject, or controversial. The tone of their
citations should tell you which.
While you’re doing that, keep track of who the respective
authors are. Those biographies slapped on the dust jacket are a good place to
start. You don’t need to know everything about them, but if you’re looking at
someone who spent decades in law enforcement or the intelligence community,
they’re probably more reliable and useful than a random fan of 47 who mostly
posts on Gamefaqs or a housewife from New Jersey publishing under a pseudonym.
Obviously, this will be easier if you’re in an academic
environment, and have access to scholarly articles, though even without that,
the basic framework is solid. Though, you might have to hit an actual library
to find some of the material you need.
If you didn’t do any of that, then the answer will be, “a
can you believe s.tar w.ars scammed me of vader straight up murdering krennic at the end of r.ogue o.ne ? can you believe i could’ve had vader tell krennic he had failed him for the final time before fucking !! MURDERING HIM !!
“Surrender now or prepare to burn bright bright bright!”
Just a small, insufficient token of my appreciation for my now 100+(!!??likeseriouslywth?) followers.You guys all have been so sweet and encouraging and honestly I’m still trying to process it. Soooo here-have my top favorite pair goofing off dressed up as my first favorite pair! XDD I’m pretty sure James was my first crush as a kid. Ah, the nineties…
sometimes calum would grab you and push you up against a wall, mouth coming down hard against yours as he made sure there wasnt an inch of space between the two of you. he would get rough at random moments, you never really knew when it was coming. he would carry you up to your bedroom and pin you against the bed; his hands working at removing every piece of clothing that was seperating your bodies while his lips sucked and bit at your neck. he wouldnt waste any time, and would have his fingers working on you, then his tongue and before you knew it he was pounding into you making you see stars as you screamed his name. you would fall asleep in his arms, only to wake up the next morning with finger sized bruises on your hips and hickeys that covered the skin of your neck. not realizing at first, you would try to get up but you noticed that you were too sore to walk properly. for the rest of the day you would make calum carry you around. it was obvious to the other guys why you couldnt walk, and they never failed to make comments about it. still, it didnt seem to bother calum because he had that same smug smirk on his lips all day
I got a new tablet and I am so in love!! I can’t stop drawing on it, which is why it’s way past bedtime, ha. Anyways–here are the past few weeks in fanart for me: Starfire #1 (!!!), Fire Emblem Awakening, and Sarada.
You were 10 and you dreamed about being a famous dancer and a singer maybe doing some sport? But in your 11 you fell down and you injured your knee. “It’s gonna be okay” you believed and you kept dancing but you fell again and you couldn’t continue - ever again... 5 years later you tried again but nothing’s changed…
“It’s fine I can still sing” you believed but In your 12 something bad happend with your neck and with your voice… you tried to continue with singing but your voice kept cracking and you couldn’t continue - ever again… 5 years later you tried to sing again but nothing’s changed…
And you keep on telling me “Live your dreams”… I tried and I failed. You can tell me that I’m too young and too stupid but this will hunt me for the rest of my life… And you won’t even know.
That’s one of my reasons why I feel like - giving up on everything/useless/stupid/coward/indecisive/breaking down when you talk about your dreams… I’m “writing” it here because I know that you won’t read it. Some things are really important to me even though you don’t care.
Sincerely imagine ASiB if Johnlock isn’t real. “Somebody loves you” and “Feeling exposed?” and “Yes you are” and “Look at us both” and “I think he likes you more than I do” are all completely baseless statements, and
Irene is just some weird lady who makes randomized personal comments and has no actual insight into people. She goes around proudly declaring “I know what people like!!!” and Ministry of Defense agents sometimes give her top-secret intel because they feel kind of sorry for her