1. You and your love are both soft and haunted and some people will come into your life and take that softness for granted. This is just how the world is, my darling, diamonds exist but so do wolves and sometimes it is the diamonds that we need to watch out for because they are made of cold and wolves still have heartbeats and are just misunderstood. Navigating the world is a hard thing, especially for girls who are made of story flavoured madness and seeking happy endings here that are harder than finding a pearl in the deepest part of ocean.
2. I have known of too many girls who have both become and died in the embrace of men that should have loved them better but chose to let them go. Both Gods and men tend to treat dreamers and romantics with an equal part of disdain and neglect. I have ached for them, but watching sadness does things to a persons mind and heart.
3. My cousin was a small girl with dreams the size of a country and determination made of a bullet that penetrated every job she ever did. I never once saw her fail and then she fell in love. Even bullets can dissolve when put in enough heat. Watching her melt from a gun to a wound was enough to teach me that alone had a lovely sound to it.
4. Alone and lonely are two different things. Alone means nights with my books. Alone means quiet star gazing and drinking tea drinking on my roof. Alone means hours of self aware retrospection in a coffee shop whilst scribbling poetry. But most importantly alone means not wilting into the arms of a man who may not appreciate the stars and poetry. Lonely is carnal. Lonely is craven. Lonely is sad.
5. I thought I was safe in my alone. But love is a wicked predator, it found my hiding place even in a forest. To do so, it set my beautiful forest of alone on fire.
6. For a while, we were happy. For a while, love almost had me believe that I was wrong. Until the day you left, like a hurricane leaves the ocean. For good.
7. I crumbled. Picked myself up. And crumbled again. Eventually I lost track of how many times I had to get up. Eventually you began to fade into the graveyard of the still living people that have abandoned me in my head.
8. I am better now. The forest of my alone finally has grown back from the ashes. Bigger and better than before, my alone is beautiful. It is slowly filling the graves you left inside me with self love and healing. My alone is softer with my heart than your love has ever left it feeling.
I waited for you at breakfast, but you slept in. Or avoided me, apparently. And I tried to catch your eye this afternoon, but you were so good at shutting me out completely.” “Is that what got under your skin? That I shut you out, or that it was so easy for Tarquin to get in?” “What got under my skin,” Rhys said, his breathing a bit uneven, “is that you smiled at him.” The rest of the world faded to mist as the words sank in. “You are jealous.”
and that one time she finally did
His fingers tightened on mine, and I looked up. He was smiling at me. And looked so un-High-Lord-like with the glowing dust on the side of his face that I grinned back. I hadn’t even realized what I’d done until his own smile faded, and his mouth parted slightly. “Smile again,” he whispered. I hadn’t smiled for him. Ever. Or laughed. Under the Mountain, I had never grinned, never chuckled. And afterward … And this male before me … my friend … For all that he had done, I had never given him either. Even when I had just … I had just painted something. On him. For him. I’d—painted again. So I smiled at him, broad and without restraint. “You’re exquisite,” he breathed.
#2 When Rhys confessed to having his wishes unfulfilled
“Isn’t that what High Lords do?” My breath clouded in front of me in the brisk night. “Whatever they please?” He studied my face. “There are a great many things that I wish to do, and don’t get to.”
#3 When we find out what his nightmares were about
“I’m sorry I didn’t find a way to spare you from what happened Under the Mountain,” Rhys said with equal quiet. “From dying. From wanting to die.” I began to shake my head, but he said, “I have two kinds of nightmares: the ones where I’m again Amarantha’s whore or my friends are … And the ones where I hear your neck snap and see the light leave your eyes.”
#4 When the High Lord of Night Court physically flinched from an emotional wound
“What is it that you want, Feyre?” I had no answer. I didn’t know. Not anymore. “What is it that you want, Feyre?” I stayed silent. His laugh was bitter, soft. “I thought so. Perhaps you should take some time to figure that out one of these days.” “Perhaps I don’t know what I want, but at least I don’t hide what I am behind a mask,” I seethed. “At least I let them see who I am, broken bits and all. Yes—it’s to save your people. But what about the other masks, Rhys? What about letting your friends see your real face? But maybe it’s easier not to. Because what if you did let someone in? And what if they saw everything, and still walked away? Who could blame them—who would want to bother with that sort of mess?” He flinched. The most powerful High Lord in history flinched. And I knew I’d hit hard—and deep. Too hard. Too deep.
and when we learned how deep that wound went
“Why didn’t you tell me?” “You were in love with him; you were going to marry him. And then you… you were enduring everything and it didn’t feel right to tell you.” “I deserved to know.” “The other night you told me you wanted a distraction, you wanted fun. Not a mating bond. And not to someone like me - a mess.” So the words I’d spat after the Court of Nightmares had haunted him
#5 When he considered settling for ‘whatever pieces she offered him’
“You think I didn’t want to tell you? You think I liked hearing you wanted me only for amusement and release? You think it didn’t drive me out of my mind so completely that those bastards shot me out of the sky because I was too busy wondering if I should tell you, or wait - or maybe take whatever pieces that you offered me and be happy with it? Or that maybe I should let you go so you don’t have a lifetime of assassins and High Lords hunting you down for being with me?”
#6 When he cried…
“But then she snapped your neck.” Tears rolled down his face. “And I felt you die,” he whispered.
But I was being ripped apart from the inside out, and I thrashed, unable to out-scream the pain. “Feyre!” someone roared. No, not someone—Rhysand. Rhysand yelled my name again - yelled it as though he cared
-A Court of Thornes and Roses
#7 When he spent 3 months thinking she hated him
“And for three months… for three months I tried to convince myself that you were better off without me. I tried to convince myself that everything I’d done had made you hate me.”
#8 When he put her happiness above his own
“I heard you were going to marry him, and I told myself you were happy. I should let you be happy, even if it killed me. Even if you were my mate, you’d earned that happiness.”
#9 When he thought he wasn’t that type of person for her
“I heard what you told him,” he said. “That you thought it would be easy to fall in love with him. You meant it, too.” “So?” It was the only thing I could think of to say. “I was jealous—of that. That I’m not … that sort of person. For anyone.“
#10 When we found out that all this time he had been in love with Feyre
“It killed me, Feyre, to send you back. To see you waste away, month by month. It killed me to know he was sharing your bed. Not just because you were my mate, but because I … ” He glanced down, then up at me again. “I knew … I knew I was in love with you that moment I picked up the knife to kill Amarantha.”
Request - Reader is one of Ned’s ward’s is secretly in love with Jon but doesn’t know that Robb, Jon and Theon are all fawning over her.
Pairing - Jon Snow X Female Reader
Wordcount - 5.431
Warnings - Normal Game of Thrones type scenarios.
A/N - I could do a part two to this
Ned Stark had always been a very kind and gentle man. On a particularly rough stormy night where the wind was so powerful and people struggled to walk through it, Ned was just returning home from a particularly long travel to a place where the disputes had turned from aggressive confrontation to bloody and gruesome battles, Ned had been instructed by King Robert to dissolve the quarrel and quickly, when he had heard the wails of a baby. Ned suddenly became more alert to his surroundings. As he dismounted his horse, he began to search for the cause for the sound. Ned soon located the sound to find the small baby wrapped very scarcely in a couple of woven blankets. How could anyone leave a baby like this? Ned thought as he scooped the baby into his arms, holding it close to himself in an attempt, to share his warmth. Ned mounted his horse and continued the rest of his short journey home, praying to the old God’s that the baby would survive the cold until he could reach the warmth of the castle. The God’s have blessed this child, Ned thought as he entered his chambers where his wife laid waiting for him, wrapped in warm furs.
“Ned is that another one of your bastard children that you insist on tormenting me with.” Catelyn snapped at her husband as she pushed the furs away from her body, whether it was to inspect the child further or to injure Ned, he couldn’t be quite sure.
“Relax my love, this baby is not mine, I found the baby nearby abandoned in the snow. I couldn’t leave it there to suffer and die. The baby is strong, near death and still made it all the way here.” Ned laid the baby down on the furs, it’s skin with a blue tint. Yet as cold as the baby was, it was still curious looking around the room at the strange people. Catelyn, got out of bed, walking over to the baby, the baby turned out to be a little girl, with bright Y/C/E, Catelyn’s gaze melted at the sight. She had always wanted a girl, there was no doubt that Ned and herself would have more children, yet Catelyn was not going to give up the opportunity to have a little girl sooner.
“She certainly is strong, why don’t we take her in as a ward? Let’s call her Y/N, I’ve always thought it was a beautiful name.” Catelyn, picked up the newly named little girl, holding her tightly to her chest.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea, my love. Y/N it is”
Teleportation is the only reasonable explanation for how Baby got inside in 12x01 when Sam clearly parked OUTSIDE at the end of 11x23.
have moved Baby when it landed inside the Bunker (I think that was 11x21? if memory serves?), but seriously? That
was the fucking Room of Requirement. That room is reason #2 the
Eldritch Bunker exists (#1 is Sam’s room, it drove me nuts first). That
room on set has been: The Computer lab/Laboratory, the Armory, the
Infirmary, and our fun little play room/Library in 13x03. Oh yeah and
I’m pretty sure they mocked it up as the Generator room too. Which
means it’s the room where Dean finally used the grenade launcher.
than one of these, they show the characters walking from the War Room
into the Room of Requirement, and it’s completely different.
DUDE, WHAT DO YOU THINK I HAVE WANTED TO DO FOR YEARS?
She give you that look too?
The one where it's like she's staring into your soul and finding you lacking and all you want to do is prove you're good enough and honorable enough for her?
I was going to say the thing about how she looked like she was going to kick your ass and eat your liver for lunch, but that sounds like it'd make her like me more.
Yeah, I know that look too.
Tell me about all of her looks!
*whips out a presentation about Brienne of Tarth, her looks, and why she's the best*
That's a lot.
*shrugs* We were forced to go on a road trip together. I lost my hand, called her wench, and saved her from a bear. She kept me safe and made sure I got home okay. I gave her my sword and told her to keep it (just like my heart).
You lucky bastard. How long have you known her?
Long enough to know I should have followed her the first time I let her go.
My sympathies. I know what that's like. If it makes you feel any better, I still haven't sparred with her.
This Inktober seems to be a time of throwbacks to old and beloved fandoms and characters for me. For today, it’s my beloved Loki Laufeyson. He certainly isn’t perfect, but I have a colossal soft spot for him. I’ve never actually drawn him before though, mostly because Tom Hiddleston’s face is a thing of perfection and has always been intimidating to try to recreate, but I suppose now is as good a time as any, especially with Ragnarok just around the corner!
If you are a survivor of abuse, anyone who tells you you should just “get over it” or thinks that just because the event happened a long time ago, you should have just let it go by now is extremely toxic.
your emotions are valid and do not have a set expiry date.
healing is a long process and you’re allowed to take as much time as you need.