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gay-disabled-characters-showdown · 2 months

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LGBTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 1, Wave 5, Poll 14

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included.

Check out the other polls in this wave and prior here.

Snake-Zero Escape

Qualifications:

Canonically disabled! He's blind and has a prosthetic arm! He's only semi-canonically gay, but the creator did acknowledge the possibility when people spam asked him if Snake is gay and he put up a twitter poll about it: https://twitter.com/Uchikoshi_Eng/status/1360856115450241027 so take that as you will

Canonically blind and implied to be gay, later confirmed by the creator

Propaganda:

Snake is so funny, he's a bit of a confident know it all but in a charming way. He can and will destroy you if you hurt his sister. He's EVERYTHING <3

He was declared gay via a poll on the creator's Twitter page which is just iconic of him. First ever character to have his sexuality democratically elected

Anything Else?:

He's more commonly called "Snake" as his real name (Light) is only revealed near the end of the game, and his last name technically comes from interviews outside canon. So "Light" is a bit of a "light" (haha) spoiler! (Submitter 1)

Melanie King-The Magnus Archives

Qualifications:

Bisexual and blind

Gay and blind and amazing

Melanie ends up being blinded by herself in the fourth season of the Magnus Archives, and ends up in a romantic relationship with another woman in the same season

She is blind and has a girlfriend. Canon disabled and canon wlw win 👍

she has a girlfriend and is blind

She is blind and sapphic (I'm not sure if anything exactly is ever confirmed in canon, but most people refer to her as a lesbian)

Propaganda:

she’s iconic

I love her

Oh I love my horrible woman who did many things wrong but in a way I sympathize with and also enjoy because she deserves to be a hater. Anyways so Melanie's very first appearance involved her arguing with Jon and and dismissing the way the Magnus Institute takes statements, which is a very good introduction for her in my opinion because she will continue to be a hater in regards to John. Melanie got stabbed by a ghost prior to her next appearance and briefly became a meme because turns out, when you get stabbed by a ghost, you'll want to tell people about the ghost, and she did this as she was being dragged away from where this happened. Her professional credit went downhill after this. She ends up being the catalyst of a big plot point in season 2 after this statement, because she's the only one who recognizes that Not-Sasha is, in fact, not Sasha. Then it turns out she cannot catch a break because she gets shot by a ghost later, and the ghost bullet turns out to not be a good thing later on. Melanie starts working for the Magnus Institute after Elias, her to-be horrible boss, proposes the role, since her credit has gone down so much that the job opportunity is very much needed. Then she realizes that she does not like her horrible murder boss and that she is bound to the institute, she keeps trying to kill him, which honestly I think she deserved to do because he sucks and she deserves a kill count. Though he shoves the knowledge that her father, who she thought died peacefully, actually died an agonizing, drawn out death in her brain so she stops doing that afterwards. She does help to get him arrested though, even if she really wanted to murder him. After this it is noted that she, at one point, fended off horrible flesh monsters with a knife single-handedly. John ends up realizing that the ghost bullet from earlier is still in her leg, and is more over making her far more murder hungry than she would be without it. So naturally the next step is DIY, non-consentual surgery, which she, after waking up shortly after the incident with her leg frozen and her friends committing medical malpractice, naturally objects to, which leads to her scarring John and overall not trusting him or Basira nearly as much as she might have before. Then she decides to actually prioritize her mental health a bit after going through every horror imaginable by going to therapy and insisting that, due to how the way tapes work in the archives, that none of her sessions be recorded, all while being just a bit paranoid about her therapist. Then it turned out that the only way to sever herself from the eye was to simply not have sight, and she's the one character who chooses this, getting rid of her eyesight very painfully and then moving in with Georgie, who ends up being her girlfriend. She's a little less hostile towards John after this, though she does not want to be in any archives business considering everything she went through there. Then, during the Eyepocalypse, she and her girlfriend, due to her not having sight and Georgie not having fear, are unaffected, and they sort of accidentally start a cult while trying to keep other people protected. Though it does not help that Melanie lied about having a vision that the whole thing would end, since the truth is really hopeless and bleak. She meets up with John and Martin again, is involved with the discussion of how the world can be maybe saved and is ultimately one of the three main characters to make it to the end of the finale, the others being Georgie and Basira. This is just me highlighting all of the wild things she's been up to and this would have gotten even longer if I had more propaganda.

She's so cool she tries to poison her evil boss she kicks ass she was a ghost hunter and she's also managed to escape her shitty situation by blinding herself to be able to quit her evil eldritch horror archiving job and just chill w/ her gf georgie and their cat (until the evil boss she tried to poison fucks everything up for everyone but in the end she and georgie still live and are presumably as fine as they cam be after all the shit that happened)

Only Melanie can accidentally become the Blind Prophet of the Apocalypse with her literally fearless girlfriend after trying to distance herself from the Beholding. She also had a ghost bullet infected with with The Slaughter in her leg which she got because she was a ghost hunting YouTuber/paranormal investigator.

Sometimes you gotta take your eyes out to escape your shitty job. And then you and your girlfriend live as prophets (and basically accidental cult-leaders) in the apocalypse

#polls #poll #disabled characters #lgbtq characters #disability #lgbtq #lgbtq dcs round 1 #lgbtq dcs wave 5 #snake zero escape #snake #zero escape #melanie king #the magnus archives #tma podcast #id in alt text

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stevie-petey · 3 months

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AHHHH I LOVED IT THE PERFECT SEASON FINALE IT WAS SO LOVELY!!!!!!!!SENDING A MILLION KISSES😘😘😘😘💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

I loved the reunion with El and bug it was sweet how El just leaned into her kiss😭. Jonathan and bugs " last moments" of their in-between relationships was so bittersweet but so needed. I love how you write Nancy's and bugs relationship, it makes me feel like there's a better chance Jon and Steve will be friends if bug and Nancy are. I can see the four of them perhaps having a sleep over, bug and Nancy sharing the bed (like true queens) Jonathan gets his beanbag back, and Steve has been banished to the floor ( he has cushions it'll be fine) Steve and bug just leaning into each other in the tunnels like you poor concussed fools, when will you see this is a love story in the making. It's so sweet how Steve just picked up the old routine again. ( Also we need that blurb of mama Henderson showing Steve bugs baby pictures, take your time though hunny bun you've done marvelous work here 💋💋💋💋💋) Also bug saying she'll wait for Steve to get over Nancy😭 thank you for keeping it realistic. While both bug and Steve have had time to process their respective relationships fall apart, bug has technically had more time to process and Steve is still kinda reeling from everything. Almost dying, getting his shit rocked, letting his girlfriend go so she can be with someone she truly loves, then starting to fall for a new girl who actually loves him and has bled and fought for him. The kids will be so sick of stug when they get together. Dustin especially, poor kid won't catch a break.

steve sleeping on the floor is so real tbh mans would be banished and he'd just sigh in defeat

and yes !!! hes JUST accepted that nancy doesnt love him, itd be unrealistic for him to immediately fall in love with bug. he needs time, and bug knows this. she understands how long it took her to get over jon and how long can linger long after youve moved on. she knows n loves steve anyways and will wait :')

and jonathans final moments with bug pained me. been there, doing everything you can to remember your final moments with someone you cannot have. it sucks

#ask #anon #wtlws insight #m speaks #its so </3

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ldysmfrst · 16 days

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Breaking and Entering (4) - Mikhail

Status: Ongoing Series (hiatus - may start again based on responses)

Chapter number: 4 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 1,044

Word count for Story: 8,908

Genre: Werewolf

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children. One of which is special needs, and on 3/28, they lost 75% of their vision. I started a Patreon if you feel the heart to donate towards helping with the medical costs of appointments, medication, and modifications to the house, which insurance doesn't cover.

Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, and m/m. This chapter doesn't have any warnings... unless I missed some.

High school.

Like actual high school with other students.

Not alone with a tutor in the library of the packhouse.

My world just got flipped yet again. After my father wished me luck, Aliaksandr, Mitch, and I moved to Gamma Jon's office to discuss how my day would look. I started at 8 a.m. and ended at 3 p.m., followed by training with the warriors my age and who would be under my command.

"What do you mean I have a free third period? What is brunch? I thought there were sports after school, not training?" I ask no one in particular as I look down below, watching the students starting to come in quickly.

Most students are dressed lightly for the heat until one student catches my eye, leaving the building … wearing pants and a hoodie. Watching the student walk away, I can feel Borya get restless.

"MIKY!" Aliaksandr raises his voice, and I spin around and glare at him before I say anything, "If you want us to answer all your questions, you might want to listen to our answers. Besides, you have five minutes to get to your first class with me, and Professor Clark is not one to mess with."

"You are lucky you are my Beta, Sasha," I say as I grab my coat.

Mitch hands me a backpack and says, "In here, you have everything you need for your first 2 classes. Your locker has the rest of your stuff. I know you aren't dressed for school, but we will make do."

"What do you mean I am not dressed for school?" That is when I remembered I was dressed for the office. I thought this morning's meeting would be with an advisor or to settle something urgent, so I was wearing a three-piece charcoal gray suit with no tie and black dress shoes.

"I cannot go to my first day of school like this! What kind of impression would that be? I am stuck up, prick, right? I think not. Hold on."

Papa, can I run home and get on something other than a suit?

Yes, Misha. You can start after brunch. Take Sasha with you.

"Sasha, you and I will go back to the packhouse so I can change. Mitch, you go ahead and get to class. We will meet back here during the third period. Understood?"

They nod in unison, and Mitch jogs out of the office.

Sasha and I head home to my car, a deep purple Toyota Highlander. Along the way to the packhouse, I decide it's time for some answers.

"Sasha, when did you know this was going to happen?" I glare at him quickly, trying to keep my eyes on the road.

"About two days ago, but Mitch knew about a month ago because Gamma Jon mentioned something to him."

"So, explain high school."

Listening to my Beta tell me about the cliques, the squabbles between the circles, and all the chicks, I know this year will be challenging. I not only have to integrate like I am just another student, but I also have to find the balance between being one of them and being their next Alpha.

I have to deal with multiple teachers instead of one tutor. This is probably going to be my easiest transition because I already know most of the pack, and my tutors would switch depending on the topic. It shouldn’t be hard to have more than one at a time, but we will see.

There is also the pressure to find my mate. According to Sasha, it should be easy with all the females at the school turning 18 soon. Even though it seems like it would be easy, Sasha doesn’t seem to consider all of my Alpha duties. Taking the time out of those duties to attend coming-of-age celebrations just means later nights for me.

I have always wondered what it would be like for humans who have to go through trial and error to find a mate. In my spare time, I have read books about epic battles over love or on heartache over being with the wrong human mate.

Can you imagine wasting months or years of your life only to have your chosen mate be the wrong one? I guess it may not be that different from living your life without being moonmatched.

When we get to the packhouse, we have some time before we have to get back. I decided to raid the fridge for breakfast, shower, and change into dark denim jeans, a dark blue polo shirt, and blue and black Nikes. For some reason, since I learned about going to school, Borya has been restless.

Borya, what is wrong? Why are you acting like you haven't been on a run all month? We ran last night.

She is near, our mate; she is finally close.

Do you mean she is eighteen already? We need to find her fast.

I don't think she is eighteen yet, but I can feel her. Being an Alpha allows us to feel things before anyone else, including her.

Right, but she is here, and I may meet her sooner than we thought.

Running downstairs, I call for Sasha. I cannot wait to tell him what Borya said. "Sasha! Sasha! I have great news!" I yell as I barrel around the corner into the main hall, almost running into my mother.

"Good Morning to you too, Misha," she smiles at me. “I hear your father finally told you the good news. You're starting in an actual high school. Remember, you are still 18 years old. Have fun with school, make friends, and find yourself."

"Mum! I am so sorry. Where is Sasha? I have great news! Borya said he felt our mate, which means she is here! She really is here!" I say with a massive smile, hugging my mother tightly.

"That is wonderful! Now, you must ensure you are a man worth being a mate with. Oh, I had Sasha wait for you in the car. I wanted to wish you luck on your first day of school," she tells me as she walks to the front door, "Now off with you. Good luck, and make us proud."

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#ldysmfst fic #breaking and entering #werewolf #werewolves #plustwo #plus sized mc #fated mates #moon mates #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o #alpha beta omega #high school #pack dynamics #chubby #chubby y/n #chubby reader #original character

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lycanlovingvampyre · 1 year

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MAG 106 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: putting up a new fence

Hearing the episode title I somehow already suspected this could be a space one...

Huh... The spinning of the tape breaks off there for a moment after Melanie's clap (1:21). I never noticed this. Probably always thought it was a brief loading error. Thought it now too at first, but I went back to check.

"More than large enough for the swell of humanity to grow, and ultimately extinguish itself." Hm, a touch of the Extinction there?

"and when I think of it too deeply, I feel like I’m going to throw up. Like a sort of existential vertigo." Yeah, I know this feeling. When I try to think of things which are incomprehensible for me I get this weird feeling and feel dizzy.

"I knew that if it chose to cry out, it would have destroyed me utterly." The Vast is the most cosmic of all horrors of the Entities. This literally sounds like an Old One.

"And I wish that I could convince myself that ignorance was the same thing as safety." Louder, for Jon in S1!

Although this is a statement with a lot of rambling and very little actually happening (and usually I simply cannot follow those kind of statements) I absolutely love this one. I'm not only afraid of heights and I hate falling (generally avoid rides with a drop at theme parks), the aspect of one's own insignificance compared to the sheer size of the universe really gets to me, but also fascinates me.

Nice to see that the rest of the archival team is actually helping Martin with the statements.

MELANIE: "Also, I um, I can’t find Jan Kilbride." Sounds like he has been swallowed up by the earth! *badum tss*

BASIRA: "Yeah, it’s, it is not cool down here." MELANIE: "Summer in the basement, I suppose." Is it really hot in some basements in the summer? Because mine is always cool. Very comfortable in summer, too cold in winter.

BASIRA: [ugh] "That boy needs to relax." MELANIE: "Or at least find someone else to fuss over!" BASIRA: "Yeah, he’s got it bad." This is top quality office gossip!

BASIRA: "Do you know if he and Jon ever…" MELANIE: "No clue, and not interested! Although… according to Georgie, Jon doesn’t." BASIRA: "Like, at all?" MELANIE: "Yeah." First of all, Georgie randomly telling a mutual that Jon is ace, it that allowed? Second, Melanie randomly telling a mutual (and co-worker!) that Jon is ace... General opinion on the confirmation of an ace character: Yay!!! I don't really know what to think of confirmation happening by mentioning it in bonus material, a lot of people probably won't catch it that way, so having it in the main canon story is great! Then, yeah, it's kind of hard to reveal it when sex isn't really a topic in itself in the story. It comes up very rarely in statements, implied with Tim and towards the end with Georgie and Melanie. So how do you touch upon a topic that isn't really a topic? Have people talk about it and I think the gossip was a good way to handle that. The benefit of the gossip and especially the circumstance of who is telling it makes it vague to leave room for interpretations so people can put him anywhere on the spectrum. The vagueness of certain story points is doing a great service for fan content in my opinion. As someone who asked themself why I had not yet come across proper ace representation in fiction, hearing of poor little meow meow Jon being ace made me so happy!

BASIRA: "No way. I used to love that show. I mean, the first couple of seasons, at least. Took a weird turn in season three, when they introduced –" I heard this may be again a reference to The Black Tapes?? Yes, no, maybe?

ELIAS: "Whatever I’m planning needs to be stopped even if it cost a few lives. Including your own." That's very Gertrude-y of Melanie. Except for the part of risking her own life, that's very Slaughter-y.

Ben's voice acting is so on point!

When I heard Ivy Meadows I immediately knew, this is going to be bad. I remembered very well that this was the care home from MAG 36.

So that knowledge-insertion torture... THAT was the moment I finally decided "Holy shit... Elias really is evil!"

@a-mag-a-day

#a-mag-a-day #mag 106 #tma #tma spoilers

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cherrywoodmaeg · 9 months

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Shortcut Pt. 14

Successfully survived exams, and then I had a holiday in the Netherlands. Yay, inspiration!

Also shoutout to my nurse-turned-med-student partner for fact checking <3

An appointment

For the entirety of the next hours walking, Niphka preoccupied herself with holding Jon as steady as possible. Instead of sitting on her extended hand, he was now leaning against her leather chestpiece while she held him upright. That way, she couldn’t balance out as many bumps in her movement, but Jon had reassured her that he’d been tossed around much worse on the HMS Triumph. Instead, he preferred to stay close to her, as to not be as exposed in mid-air.

She knew that the cause of all her complicated thoughts was her friendship to him. Still, she was drawn closer. She wanted to understand the way he thought, since he seemed to be so good at finding the right words to calm down her racing mind.

It’s been a long, long time since someone did that.

As the sun began to set, her mind wandered to the dawning night. Granted, it felt like the rift between the two of them was closing. But perhaps that was precisely why she was concerned it might rip open again.

Didn’t he ask me to trust him?

“You look like there’s something on your mind,” she heard Jon remark. Niphka paused to look down.

“I’m just thinking about tonight. I don’t want you to wake up like last time.”

He squeezed her index finger.

“What happened- it’s not going to happen again.”

“You cannot know that.”

“Stop worrying about me,” he groaned. “What about you? You haven’t gotten much sleep either, have you?”

“No,” she admitted. “I guess both of us need some recovering. Speaking of which, how is your leg doing?”

He sucked in the air through his teeth. It took a moment before he answered.

“Not good, to be honest. It’s looking better, the bruises and all, but it still hurts a lot. If I didn’t have you, I honestly wouldn’t know how to get from A to B.”

“Can I take another look? Before it’s too dark?

He nodded, and Niphka sat on her knees, after which she put him down. When she let go, however, he stumbled and nearly fell before she could catch him with her left hand.

“Careful!”

Without saying anything, Jon held onto her finger as she slowly helped him into a seating position. He pulled up his pant leg.

Niphka knew better than to touch him. Once again, she cursed her eyes for not allowing her to see. But by how Jon was moving alone, she could tell that something was wrong. He needed help.

“Absolutely not.”

“Alright, I’ll stay here, then. But have to get someone to treat that.”

Jon couldn’t believe it. Only half an hour after their last break, Niphka had stopped again – in a place uncomfortably close to the nightlights of civilization. And now, she wanted to interrupt their mission!

“I don’t want you to stay very long. But you’re helping no one by dying from an infection!”

“We don’t know if it’s infected!” Jon protested, although he knew she was right. Before Niphka could continue to lecture him, he admitted defeat.

“But if I’m going, I’m going by myself!” he stated, and that was that. She helped him to find a fitting stick to use as a crutch. He allowed her to bring him to the nearest road leading into town, under the condition that right after, she would stay hidden until he returned. Jon didn’t have to be a mind reader to know how little she liked that.

They said goodbye and he started to hike. The sun had fully set when he arrived on the streets. There was no one to see outside, and Jon was relieved by that. He wasn’t keen on drawing too much attention, with the rough condition of his clothes (and himself).

Behind one of the doors, he heard loud voices. Above the dirty windows of the run-down two-story house, the wooden letters RED TULIP - TAVERN marked this place to be just what he was looking for. Jon entered.

He was greeted by a surprisingly tidy room full of tables. Some of them were occupied by a wide range of different people. Most of them seemed friendly, a few workers enjoying their aftershift beer. Other guests seemed more reserved and eyed Jon sceptically. Behind the counter, a man in his sixties restocked the shelves with bottles of liquor. Floor to wall to ceiling, the warm wooden panelling was illuminated by the centerpiece of the room: a large brick fireplace.

“Blackberry cider, coming up,” the bartender announced. “And what can I get you, young man?”

Jon had chosen the outer left barstool.

“I’ll have the same.”

He looked around. Most of the other people had lost their interest in him almost immediately and returned to their private conversations. Two of them, a man and a woman sitting near the fireplace, kept looking at him. Against the light, he couldn’t make out much more.

“There you go!” The white-haired man placed a brown, rectangular glass filled with a dark purple liquid in front of him. Jon suddenly remembered something.

“Oh, by the way, do you take this currency?”

He handed over one of the coins that Ida had given him. The man’s eyes widened.

“Young man, for that, I can get you a little more than a glass of cider!”

Good to know.

“I’d be more than happy to leave some of that here, but I need it to pay a doctor. Can you tell me where I can find one? One that is... uncomplicated?”

“Well, I don’t know if ‘uncomplicated’ is the right word, but if you don’t want any trouble, I’d send you to Dr. van Zijl. He works downtown, but he lives a few houses down the street. Hideous yellow door, you can’t miss it.”

“Thank you. Keep that,” Jon added when the man wanted to return the coin.

He emptied his glass. The warmth of the room felt good after the cool outside air. However, he hoped that he could speak to the physician that same evening, so didn’t allow himself to waste more time.

The yellow door was indeed impossible to look past. It was the house’s only distinctive feature in a row of traditional brick houses, and it seemed to be enough of an identifying feature – there was neither a house number nor a name plate anywhere to be seen. A large iron-cast doorbell was the only decorative piece of the front porch. Jon rang.

The door immediately opened.

“Yes?”

A man, almost as wide as he was tall, stood behind the frame. He had black curly hair and a short stubbly, greying beard. He must’ve entered not long before and still carried his white coat over one arm.

“Yes, hello, my name is Jonathan Williams. Dr. van Zijl?”

“The same. How can I help you?”

Jon nodded towards his leg. “I know you’re not at work right now, but the bartender at the Red Tulip told me I could see you tonight. I’m afraid I don’t have too much time.”

“Who among us does?” Van Zijl sighed, but to a step back to let Jon enter. He continued to talk as he led him into a large living room. Contrary to the simplistic outside appearance of the house, the inside was lavishly decorated with all kinds of paraphernalia from all over the world. Most of it was hidden between countless plants, each pot more colourful than the other.

“Bram sent you?” Jon noticed the doctor’s coastal accent. “You know, he does this to mess with me. Trying to keep me busy so I don’t notice that he stays in for work long.”

He pushed aside two empty ceramic vases, both of them painted in swirly shapes, and invited Jon to take seat on a dark green ottoman. Van Zijl himself sat down on a rocking chair.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened to you, son?”

“That’s- …a long story. Long and complicated, and pretty unbelievable, if you ask me, so…” He trailed off as the doctor raised an eyebrow.

“I thought it was just a sprained ankle, but it’s not getting better.”

“Let me see. When did it happen?”

“Four days ago, I think.” Jon replied as he showed the doctor his leg.

“You think? What have you been doing?”

“Travelling.”

“Alone?”

“With a friend.”

“Good. It’s not safe to travel alone right now. Does it hurt when I push here?”

Jon winced. “Yeah. What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing specific. Just people talking. Now, Jon, it seems that your fibula got cracked.” Van Zijl finished his examination.

“Okay?”

“I have good news and I have bad news. The good news is, it has healed quite well. No infections.”

“And the bad news?”

“It healed in the wrong place. Part of the bone is pressing on your nerve, which causes the pain.”

“Oh. Can you do anything about that?”

“Oh yes, I can.”

“More good news, then?”

The doctor gave him a sympathetic smile. Jon didn’t like that at all.

“Not for you, I’m afraid.”

Part 13 < Part 14

#g/t #g/t writing #giant/tiny #g/t story #original characters #shortcut g/t #sfw g/t #size difference #Jon's going on a solo adventure in this one

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swervestrickland · 2 years

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Sweethearts | Hangman Adam Page

Chapter 1: Call Me When You Want

Pairing: Hangman Adam Page x OFC (Raquel “Kelly” Montero)

Word Count: 2,459

Warnings: Mox & Nora make an appearance so if children in fics kinda throws you off, then this isn’t for you. Also there’s cursing.

Author’s Note: Hello, everyone! It’s been a minute since I actually finished something. I hope that y’all enjoy it. Feedback is appreciated! Send me an ask if you want to know more about them, I’m not gonna lie when I say it’ll help spark ideas for me to continue this further :]

She could see him from across the banquet hall screwing around with the dark order. Brandon was with them, camera pointed at the group while they tried their best to get through their BTE segment without laughing. They were playing a card game of some kind, sitting around a folding table. He was sitting chest to chair back, one arm across the curve of it, staring thoughtfully at the cards in his other hand. His tongue poked out and ran along his lips. She could hear someone - Uno probably, though she couldn’t be sure because her eyes were preoccupied - say something that made the entire group giggle, which immediately brought the most beautiful smile to his face. He was absolutely beaming. And to make matters worse, he cocked his head to the side, leaning it sleepily on his arm.

Wow, she thought, looking back down at her book. She had held it up to her face while she gazed at him. He is so fucking pretty. Too bad he’s literally never noticed me ever.

And then she felt it.

The feeling in the back of her spine, at the base of her neck. The little tug at her mind that begged her to pay attention.

Shh! It said. Somebody's watching you.

She looked up, horrified but curious.

Bright eyes met her dark ones. The color was unfathomable from the distance, but she had heard him say it once in an interview. They were green. If she had to describe them, though, they were ocean eyes. Sometimes bright blue, sometimes green, sometimes grey or almost brown, depending on the colors that surrounded him. The colors that he reflected. Just like the ocean.

Her eyes widened. Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

He was looking at her.

What the fuck.

He didn’t seem to notice her mental breakdown. He ran his tongue across his lips again, and she could feel something deep in the pit of her stomach. John was next to him, flexing his bulging biceps at Brandon’s camera. All the men of the dark order were entranced, ogling him. Meanwhile, this one, the handsome one with the green eyes, was staring at her.

Her heart was racing. She wondered if anyone could hear it.

She pulled her book back up to her face, breaking eye contact. “That’s enough risk-taking for one day,” she mumbled to herself.

“Raquel ‘Kelly’ Montero, you are a professional wrestler.” A voice from behind took her by surprise. She whirled around and dropped her book with an echoing thud, catching the attention of everyone in the open banquet hall. She reached for her book, embarrassed by her lack of poise, and tried not to think about how he was probably looking at her again right now. She looked up, finding the familiar face of Jon Moxley, looking particularly amusing with one of those baby carrier thingies strapped across his chest, a chubby little Nora in tow. “Now what could possibly be more tied to taking risks than that?”

Kelly’s mouth formed a thin line. Was she gonna tell him? No. She couldn’t. This wasn’t something you just tell a guy. Certainly not her best friend’s guy. She could just hear Renee in her head: I cannot believe you told Jon before you told me!!

“I—“

“It’s Hangman, isn’t it.” He said it so dryly it didn’t even feel like a question. As if the question was just a courtesy. Nora babbled at the sound of his voice.

“How did you—“

“—Renee.”

“But I haven’t even told Renee yet!”

“I don’t know what to tell you. But she knows.”

Kelly sighed in exasperation. Unbelievable. She pulled on the duffel bag beneath her chair, figuring it was probably best to put her book away for now, and zipped it back up.

“Why don’t you just talk to him?”

She shook her head so quickly she was surprised it didn’t twist off. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Fine. Look, I’m not one to talk because I usually don’t fuckin’ talk or give a shit, but I’m trying to reason this out from your level.” He motioned for her to scoot a bit so he could sit on the edge of her chair, and she obliged him, giving Nora her index finger while he continued. “He’s a locker room leader. Came with the title. You gotta say hello. It’s common practice and everyone will think you’re a piece of shit if you don’t.”

Raquel squirmed. He had a point. It’d been a few weeks and she still hadn’t had the guts to shake his hand. That probably looked bad to somebody, and she couldn’t handle that kind of judgement. She groaned, making Nora’s eyes go wide. “Sorry, sweetie.” And then to Jon: “Fine, but I’m gonna be mad about it.”

She closed her eyes for a few seconds to calm herself and steel her nerves, but she realised the longer she took the more she tried to talk herself out of it. “Fuck. Okay. Fuck it.” She launched herself off the chair.

“Atta girl.”

Before she could even think, she was halfway across the banquet hall and she could almost see the grassy green of his eyes. Hahaha, oh shit.

“Hey, Kelly,” Brandon looked out from beneath his camera and waved. “We were just finishing up a BTE segment for next week.”

“Oh, hey, Brandon!” she mentally smacked herself for sounding as if she just noticed him when she had in fact been gunning in his and the dark order’s direction. She suddenly felt exposed and awkward. “I actually came to introduce myself? I realised I haven’t even met everyone and I’ve already been with y’all a few weeks.”

Brandon smiled and nodded. “Yeah, sure, lemme help you with that. Everyone, this is Kelly Montero, she’s one of TK’s newest acquisitions.” The members of the dark order took turns saying hello and shaking her hand, while Brandon told her their names. “And this,” he said, gesturing towards Hangman, “is our AEW world champion, Hangman Page.”

It was the first moment she allowed herself to look him in the eyes again. He stood up from his chair, beautiful green eyes meeting hers as he reached for her hand. “That introduction was embarrassing, I’m so sorry,” he said, and tripped over his chair. He sighed, pulling himself together. “That, too.”

She laughed, attempting a second time to shake his hand. Kelly noted his hand was a bit rough, but not in a way that was unpleasant. “Hi, Hangman. Nice to meet you.” She shyly pulled a strand of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

“Oh, don’t-it’s Adam. Just Adam.”

“Okay. Adam.”

He seemed pleased. It was only then that Kelly realised they were still holding hands, and pulled away, blushing. A small smile played on his lips. She wondered if it meant something.

“Uh, Brandon called you Kelly, is that really your name?”

At this point, everyone in the dark order had stopped paying attention to her, talking amongst themselves while Brandon sat down across from them to survey his footage.

“It’s…Raquel, actually. But everyone calls me Kelly.”

Adam’s eyebrows furrowed as he gestured toward the chair John had vacated beside him, and her heart leapt. She sat down next to him as he spoke. “Do you prefer Kelly?”

She squirmed in her seat, rubbing the palm of her hand with the opposite thumb. She couldn’t bear to look at his eyes anymore. It was like being completely and totally exposed. It was horrifying. And yet, somehow, it was the most she’d felt in her soul in years. “Actually, I hate being called Kelly. I just let them because people say Raquel is hard to say?” She shrugged. “I dunno, it’s just always been like that.” An awkward laugh erupted out of her. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this? You don’t even know me.”

Adam smiled, leaning back in his chair. He looked positively mesmerizing, splayed out on his chair like a lazy house cat. He did that little thing she’d noticed before, where his head cocked to the side and rested on his arm. “Maybe not. But…” he paused, catching her eyes, “...I’d like to, if that’s okay.”

She blinked. Twice, three times. Finally, “Uh. Yeah. Yeah, definitely.”

From his back pocket, he pulled out his phone. He started typing. “Ra….quel. Mon. Tero. Parenthesis, Not…Kelly. Close Parenthesis.” He handed it over to her. “Here.”

She took the phone shyly into her hands, forcing herself not to notice that their fingers had brushed and a fire had lit beneath her skin. Staring at the little screen, she smiled, a small moment of curiosity flashing across her face. Wetting her lips, “You spelled my name right.”

“I did?” He sighed, his mouth animatedly turning into a circle and letting out air, “that’s great because I feel like I embarrassed myself enough today.” They both laughed.

“You? Embarrassing? Nuh uh, no way. Champions don’t get embarrassed!” Raquel flirted, mentally kicking herself for allowing herself to be one of those girls. But wait. Literally why shouldn’t I be? Who cares?

While Raquel battled herself on whether it was okay to flirt, Adam answered her bashfully, scratching at the base of his neck. “Well, you’d be surprised.” He pulled himself out of his resting position, making to stand. “Guess there’s a lot about me you still need to find out.” His eyes brightened. Man, was he perfect. His golden curls framed his face in a way that could make a pageant girl jealous.

She stood up too, flattening out her skirt with her hands, cheeks flushing red. God. God! Then, “Oh! Wait.” She pulled out her phone, opened a new contact page, and handed it to him.

“Don’t trust me?” He joked. “Not like you don’t know where to find me.” His eyes gestured around them, then he smiled at her radiantly. Everything about him made her heart flutter.

“Whaaaaaat? No!” She smirked. “No, actually, I - I don’t answer strange numbers.” Her arms folded across her body.

“Oh,” he squinted at her, biting his lip. Amused. Flawless. “Reckon that makes sense.” He finished typing his contact in, handed it back.

She stared at her phone. Raised an eyebrow. “Man with No Name?”

He shrugged. “Well, y’know.”

“You really stick to that cowboy gimmick, don’t you?”

He focused on the ground, one of his caiman leather boots scuffing the floor. Tugged lightly on his belt loops. “Like gum on a boot.”

“Oh, my god.” She hid her face behind her hand.

He smiled. Looked back up at her. Moved a little closer. “What?”

The air had been sucked out of the room. Raquel tugged at her loose cardigan, suddenly very aware of the short distance between her mouth and his, a finger’s width away. She wondered if he could hear the loud thumping in her chest. Her eyes fluttered. She wouldn’t allow herself to look down at those lips he so often ran his tongue along, choosing instead to meet his eyes through her fingers.

She could scarcely speak, her voice but a whisper. “Nothing, I just —“

The moment was shattered by the wail of a baby. Turning away from Adam, Raquel’s eyes found Mox and Nora across the banquet hall. He looked to be arguing with her while she sobbed, red little cheeks painted with tears.

She turned back. “I better go help him. Renee’s busy with an interview.”

Adam’s eyebrows furrowed, eyes giving a hint of disappointment. As if maybe he enjoyed her company. Raquel didn’t want to relish that thought too much, for fear she was wrong.

By the time she reached them, Nora was full-on shrieking. If she wasn’t happy, nobody could be happy. “Mox, what did you DO to her?!”

A bag crinkled in his hands, and Raquel could see the brightly colored shape of gummy worms in the packaging. Mox pulled one out, bringing his hand back up towards his mouth, when Nora tried to reach. “I didn’t do nuthin’ but what I was told. Renee said no sugar for the baby.”

Raquel rolled her eyes, incredulous. “So you thought it was a good idea to dangle it in front of her?!” She reached for Nora as Mox sat down to help pull her out of the baby bjorn.

“Kid’s gotta learn you don’t always get whatchu want,” he mumbled as he bit the tail end (or was it the head?) of a gummy worm, “it’s an important life lesson.”

Nora settled the opposite of gently onto Raquel’s hip, still upset but immediately lowering her volume as she noticed the change of hands. Raquel beamed at Mox, who just rolled his eyes. “I guess she knows who her favorites are, don’t you, sweet pea?” she said, falling into a fit of baby talk.

“Hey, eh. None of that sh-well. None of that,” he said, waving another gummy worm in Raquel’s face, who ceased the baby talk. “Kid needs to learn to speak English.”

“Oh, boo to that,” Raquel said, shaking her pinkie in Nora’s little fist as they bobbed gently. The baby’s weight felt comfortable on her hip, like it was always meant to be there. “Also, you realise you already said the f-word and the s-word in front of her today, already, right?”

“Well, fuck it, then. So how’d it go?” Mox nodded, biting off the head (or tail?) of another worm, looking very bluntly in Adam’s direction with no sense of discretion whatsoever.

“Um. Okay?”

Mox scoffed. “Okay? Dude was smilin’ the entire time and phones were in hands. You’re tellin’ me that went just okay?”

Raquel sighed, rolling her eyes, but eventually giving way to a happy grin. Her voice went up a couple pitches but she tried to maintain control of her excitement by whispering. “I have his phone number! He has mine!”

“Oh my god, it’s a miracle,” he replied sarcastically.

Raquel frowned. Then, realised she’d forgotten something. “Thank you.”

“On account of?” He grinned at his baby, who began to squirm in Raquel’s grasp. Nora wanted her daddy back.

“Encouraging me.” Raquel sat down next to Mox, handing the baby over. “Here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, “you’re welcome. But ol’ Mox can’t always be here to take care of you, ya know.”

Raquel smiled, nodding. “I know, I know.”

Mox held Nora up for a second, looked into her eyes and listened to her quiet babble. “Sometimes It’s gonna be Eddie.”

Which made Raquel burst into a fit of laughter.

Across the room, the cowboy’s ear perked up at the sound. He couldn’t help but feel like he wanted to hear that sound, again and again, and again, for the rest of his life.

#is this something #hangman page fanfiction #hangman page x ofc #aew fanfiction #mine #my fics

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reginarubie · 2 years

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Second installment of ‘Jon and Sansa do end up together, but—’ this time from one of Jon's exes' eyes

Got inspired from an amazing prompt by an anon, this became a series of one-shots set in the same modern setting of Jon and Sansa seen through the eyes of their exes (good and bad) and through each other eyes (these two will be last ones, just saying).

First one: Waymar Royce, inspired by Happier, Ed Sheeran

Now let's hop onto the new one, this one from one of Jon's exes's POV.

Gonna keep it real with you, this one literally made me shed a tear as I've been in her shoes before, obviously not with so much trauma and violence, but you get my meaning.

Prompt: Jon and Sansa do end up together anyway, but Sansa has had, just as Jon, past experiences that were not abusive or tragic. Jon and Sansa seen through their exes' eyes. Tbh this might be very heartbreaking, but I hope also a bit healing.

So this one is from Val's POV, and inspired by Arcade, by D. Laurence

All I know [I got addicted to a loosing game]

Val ~

She catches Jon from the corner of her eye, all clad in his black clothes. It makes him stick out like a sore thumb, but a sore thumb that is lovely to look upon.

A smile curls on her lips, she had been cautious of Jon at first, he had had a… reputation for his skills and people were surprised when he stepped back from the field-duty and chose instead to become a diplomat.

No one had expected that. From enforcer to ally.

Val had been cautious because of that.

Ygritte had, had her own to say about the man. The thing he could do with that mouth of his had spiked her interest at the very least, Ygritte spoke wonders of that, less of his… attachments.

Ygritte was all fire, all violent freedom breaking the shackles of conventionality.

Even the first time Val saw them together she knew they wouldn’t last. And they didn’t. What she hadn’t accounted for was…getting a fancy for the brooding man herself.

Jon is…

He is what Val had never expected. His hands are capable of inflicting terrible pain, but they’re also capable of being tender. She got addicted to that tenderness, to the softness beneath the hard surface.

She walks to him, to her boyfriend, a beam atop her lips; she is not wallflower herself, she had, had previous experiences perhaps even more than him, and with him it’s different. She has fallen fast and true.

Jon’s lips curl into a fond smile but he’s still not seen her, she sees him offer out one of his gloved hands and only then her eyes zero on the woman at his side. For a moment the fiery beam of red makes her think of Ygritte, but this woman’s hair are much less red, the tone more auburn or some other color Val cannot name, but warmer, less fierce but not for that less enticing. She’s slender and lithe, and wears the winter bulkily clothes in shades of grey and white to the point that besides her red hair she could almost fade in the background.

She’s looking at him too.

And Val’s heart skips a beat when Jon brushes the tip of a gloved finger to her cheek brushing away some kind of dirt or snowflake, Val cannot see at this distance. It’s so tender it almost makes her breathless.

The woman notices her first and nudges Jon “Is that her?” she asks, her blue eyes, — so blue — sparkle and Val has a terrible, lucid moment in which she thinks this woman looks exactly the part of the pretty woman she’d imagine hanging at Jon’s elbow, with him hanging to her every word.

Jon’s eyes are soft when they fall on her and they remain soft — at least they don’t harden — though something akin to guilt flashes behind his grey eyes.

“Aye,” they step closer, and only then does Val realize that her steps faltered and she’s standing stock still “Sansa,” and surely Val might have imagined the way his voice dipped at that “this is Val,” he introduces her “the head of the movement for the Free Folk”

I am your girlfriend too, Jon.

“My girlfriend,” he adds almost as if he has read her mind “Val, this is Sansa Stark. She’s at the head of several of the charity works you’ve benefitted from”

So this is lady Sansa. The title is mostly formal. This is the kind of woman one should expect to host tea parties between dignitaries and play hostess to foreign monarchy in the name of the king of the Seven Kingdoms. Not the kind of woman who should look all prim and proper and yet comfortable on the field, with cheeks and nose red raw from the cold, yet looking as at ease as at a ball.

“Hello,” she greets her, with a beam that makes her distaste for the girl melt into liquid warmth “it’s so nice to finally meet you,” Val can detect no lie in her eyes “we were all very curious about the woman who has Jon wrapped around her little finger and so smitten”

Jon blushes.

It settles something inside of Val, even as they start an easy banter between themselves.

“Stop embarrassing me in front of my girlfriend”

“In front of who else should I embarrass you?,” she grins and Val finds herself half smitten at the woman herself “I have access to his baby pictures,” Sansa tells her conspiratorially “and his prom’s pictures!, teeny weeny Jon all suited up with that trademark brood to his face—”

Jon clamps a hand over her mouth, his hold gentle.

“Stop it,” he warns her, his voice dipping with fond annoyance “stop being a nuisance and just do your— fuck, Sansa”

Even Val has noticed the way Sansa Stark has stilled in his hold, the way she has flinched. She half expects Jon’s arms to fall from her neck and they do, but not to return to his sides, merely to hold more laxly around her shoulders.

“Sorry,” he mouthes pressing his lips across her shoulder, then the rest of his sentence is lost to Val, but he can see color return to Sansa Stark pale cheeks. She shakes him off.

“It’s alright, Jon” but her tone suggests it’s anything but. They don’t look so mushy, though Jon broods endlessly, after that. Val doesn’t know why she feels guilty at how relieved that makes her fell.

And that is how Val had met Sansa Stark.

The woman against whom she could never win.

It isn’t like Jon cheated on her. Oh, he’s far too honorable to do that. He’d rather cut off his own hand than disrespect a woman.

Still, her heart breaks at the same.

It’s the small things.

The details.

She likes Sansa Stark. Truly. This would be easier if she didn’t. If she managed to hate the woman, but she— she can see the appeal.

She’s smart and soft-spoken and gentle and good with kids. She has a sharp wit and a gentle heart.

She has seen the smile playing at Jon’s lips when he had seen her entertaining the children of Hardhome with songs and stories of chivalries from the Seven Kingdoms. They especially seem to like Jonquil and Florian.

She’s beautiful and graceful.

Val knows she’s beautiful too, but in a different way. Or perhaps is the same way, but with a different character, which makes her appear different. She doesn’t know.

Still, Sansa Stark is like a beacon and Val enjoys her company.

The bloody infuriating woman is easy to get along with.

She only knows she has flinched when Jon commented on how, one day, she had sported her hair in the same braid Sansa did.

The way he had noticed the weaving pattern was the same Sansa indulges in when her hair gets too unpredictable due the cold and wet weather Beyond the Wall.

“Sansa is lovely” she had told him, one night, tucked naked into his side after their passion had been spent, the furs tugged under her armprint. She knows she didn’t just imagine his hand stilling from drawing patterns on her bare arm. A shiver of cold had settled into her core at that.

“Aye,” had been his response “but what brought this on?”

She had shrugged “A couple of boys, even a couple of women, were thinking of—” Jon had never interrupted her so fast, or so fiercely before.

“Absolutely no” she still remembers the sheer will and violence of the way he had uttered those simple two words. She had flinched away from his touch as if burned. Turned her back to him and heave out dark breathes.

“Fuck,” he had sworn “Val,” he had coaxed her to twist and look at him, her upper body exposed to the cold “I am sorry, it sounded wrong. Sansa… she has had some… suffice to say she’s had some bad experiences. I was the one to collected her, cheek and eye bruising and lip busted, from that scumbag’s home, young and afraid” he confides her.

Val had felt guilty all of sudden of all the jealousy she had felt toward them.

She had looked at Sansa differently after that.

Still— the small things.

The way, when they were eating together Jon knew what foods Sansa liked and disliked enough to pour in his own plate the carrots she did not want — it’s called cannibalism, Sansa had joked when she had caught Val’s intent gaze on the interaction fingering at her braid, it had brought a reluctant, but genuine smile on her lips — and give her, instead, part of his smashed potatoes.

Or the way, when they talked over the campaign to better the conditions of the Free Folk, Jon would pace around the small office, a time or two opening the nuts she always had on the ready for the children when they came in her office, to offer them to her.

Or the way they almost never left the fire before Sansa had been shown safely to her room whilst she was with them.

Things were better when she wasn’t around, despite her help being incredible. Val had managed well enough alone, well enough for her voice to reach the right ears; or perhaps that had been Jon too. He had an in with the Starks after all, he might have brought the matter to Sansa himself.

But Sansa… Sansa had the voice and the authority to carry it on. People listened to her even outside her inner circle. Val herself listened to her. It was just…she gave off this vibe that she would take care of everything and you just needed to trust her, and most importantly she never, ever took decisions alone.

She always wanted it voted by the Elders, she wanted it to be their choice, she only offered to help channelize their voice, carried by Val, to be heard by all. She took no credit and asked none.

Val almost would’ve wanted she did.

It would’ve been easier to dislike her if she did steal her place. But she never even tried.

She just…she genuinely wanted to help. And Val watched Jon escort her back to Castle Black every time with her heart in her throat, wondering if her boyfriend would return to her side, or if next time he’d been guilt-ridden and breaking things off with her.

But he never did.

And she holds on. Maybe it’s only some kind of… deeper bond caused by the shared experiences and she’s putting in questions everything because of her jealousy.

But then, the dam breaks the moment she and Sansa get abducted.

Well, abducted perhaps is not the best way to put it… they are taken hostage by a faction of dissidents and when Sansa wakes up, bound to her, and with a throbbing head Val can see in her eyes she’s scared.

“Don’t worry,” Sansa had told her “I can speak us through this, and if I can’t, I can still buy time enough until Jon gets here”

They both know Jon will revert back to his on action days to come and save them, he would not trust the matter to anyone else. Still, her faith in him is…astounding.

“I know,” she drawls.

Then Sansa catches sight of her bruised cheekbone and exhales “Jon’s gonna have a field trip on this” she mutters “he’s going to go ballistic. I remember how ballistic he went when he found me bruised and shaking, when he finds you he’s just going to snap”

Val has never seen Jon even get mad at someone, she can’t imagine it. But somehow she trusts her judgment. Even if Jon showed little if none jealousy when Toregg tried to sweep her off her feet.

“I am sure together we can find an accord, all we’ve been working for is—”

She even tries to speak it through with their abducters, though barely. Some of them seem moved by her speech, another slaps her on the cheek for it. Calls her kneeler whore and yells at her to shut up if she wants to keep her face pretty, he goes even as far as to slice at her cheekbone with a pocket knife. The wound isn’t too deep, but it spurns Val into action.

Val is struggling beneath her bindings but she’s never learned any kind of martial art as Ygritte had, she isn’t trained. She barely manages to head-butt the man closer to her, but that too serves nothing. She’s vicious enough when needed, though and when the man comes close enough she bites at his earlobe, hard enough to tear.

Still, the man who sliced Sansa’s cheek is the first one to fall on the ground, a bullet hinged in his kneecap. It’s a massacre and when Sansa hides her head against her shoulder Val realize she isn’t able to tear her gaze away from the sheer focus and violence of Jon’s each hit and motion. To the point that when he kneels before them she snaps completely out of it. The kiss Jon presses to her lips is so quick, too quick, almost perfunctory, so quick she almost doesn’t realize his lips have been there at all, then Jon is disentangling them and welcoming Sansa’s falling, boneless form in his open arms, kissing her hair like a fevered man. He cups her cheeks and drags his thumb over her wounded cheek, Sansa winces.

She doesn’t hear what he says to her, but she gets enough to get the gists of it “You’re alright, baby, I got you” and he’s so frenzied that Val knows he means not to hurt her, though he does all the same.

He’s on autopilot as he barely contains a snarl the moment Sansa weeps, it doesn’t surprise Val — though she should’ve seen it coming with how ferocious he looked barely five minutes ago — that as he carries her outside, nestled against his side, he still finds the space of mind to order his sworn brothers to not tend to the man’s wound beyond ensuring he survives the trip back to Castle Black, his voice vice and cruel and Val doesn’t miss the way Sansa sags against his side, her hand flexing into the fabric of the back of his bulletproof vest.

It is hours, hours he assuringly spent on the cleanup, though she knows he’s been by Sansa’s side — and that Sansa apparently talked him into tending to the men’s wounds as they voyage back to Castle Black — before Val finally manages to catch him alone, or well… he comes to her.

He is tired. Exhausted.

She can see in his eyes that all he wishes to do is bury himself deep under and not resurface for hours. And he does. He disrobes quickly and cleans himself up, then he tucks the covers under his chin and he is dead to the world. Val barely manages to get a word edgewise with him, beyond assuring him she’s physically fine before he’s under and unreachable.

She spends those hours sitting at the edge of the cot they have claimed as bed, their bed that feels almost as foreign as her own mind.

She wonders if she’s reading way too much into what happened, Jon is known to be eternally protective of the Starks with whom he has grown up, vicious when they need protection. She knows, because he told her, of the way he dislodged the shoulder of the coach of the hockey team of his high school when the man had terrorized young Arya Stark and used his stick to make the girl double over in pain when he used it to manhandle her and hit her in the stomach to point out why women should not play hockey.

Of the way he went ballistic when disabled Bran Stark ended up falling off the rocky tree house Theon Greyjoy had convinced him to climb even though his legs don’t work anymore after the accident.

She knows how fiercely protective he is of them.

So maybe she’s letting her own insecurities work her mind into a frenzy.

Maybe there is nothing to worry about, and after all Jon kissed her when he came to their rescue. Still—

He had kissed her on the lips, yet the kisses he had bestowed on the crown of Sansa Stark’s head had been fevered, reverent. Filled with panic and relief and fondness and love.

The kiss he gave her had been almost…it had felt like duty, it had tasted like it too.

“Sansa”

One word. Two syllables. Five letters.

To make her world cave in.

To break her heart.

She had always though she would hit him square in the face, maybe break his pretty nose if he ever uttered the other woman’s name in the throes of passion when they made love, but that had never happened beyond her fear.

Now she finds that his whine, so desperate, so wholesome as he is so far down into his own mind that he doesn’t even look able to open his eyes shatters her heart in a million pieces.

It’s brutal the way pain guts her like a knife and suddenly she can’t be in this room anymore.

She gets up and leaves.

She avoids him for a long time and part of her is broken hearted over the fact that he is following her like a lost pup, unless Sansa Stark needs something that is, his big eyes following her every move as he tries to get her to speak with him. It comes all to an alt when suddenly Val cannot hold it anymore.

“YOU CALLED HER NAME” she whispers-yell, because she has still pride and Sansa Stark is near them, busy with to organize some interview and telling the interviewer how brave Val was and how she had fought back, fearless.

Jon’s face becomes blank all of sudden, pale and ashen and she can see in how tense he is that he is straining himself not to look at her, not to sell himself out. It makes for a bitter laugh to escape her lips.

“And what’s worse—” her voice breaks “I know you haven’t even touched her” she feels the tears prickling at her eyes “still her pull on you is stronger than mine could ever be”

Jon wets his lip “Val—”

She shakes from his hold “No, you don’t get to do that,” she says “try to convince me otherwise, I’ve seen it” she hisses as she closes in on him “I deserve better than this” she snaps “so does she” she shoulders past him, and walks to Sansa Stark and the interviewer, pouring all of her anger into her intensity to speak with the masses, to let them know they deserve better than what they get in the reserve.

It doesn’t escape her notice how Sansa Stark looks at Jon for a split of a second and yet seems to understand more in one look than Val did in almost a year they dated.

It makes bitterness bloom on her tongue, especially when Jon leaves to escort Sansa back to Castle Black, unable to even look in her direction.

She tries to tell herself she doesn’t wait for him. That she doesn’t spend her days wondering if she has done it, in the end, pushed him in her arms.

“I want you to know,” Sansa Stark had told her as they had said goodbye to one another “I think you were very brave, and that whatever Jon has done to make you so upset, he possibly deserves it, but surely did not mean it. So… just be patient with him, alright?”

It makes her laugh brokenly. She doesn’t know what is more pathetic. That Jon would forever keep his distance from the woman he wishes he could love, or that that woman is completely unaware of the length at which his love for her runs.

She tries to tell herself she doesn’t spend her day hoping to see him walk back to her, that she doesn’t dream that he’ll come to her, promise her she has misunderstood, that he loves her enough to stay.

That even if he loves Sansa Stark he doesn’t love her enough to leave Val for her, that he chooses her. And perhaps that would mean that Val would never be the number one in his heart, but she’ll be the one who’ll get it all the same.

No, she shakes her head, I deserve better than this. I deserve to be loved the way he loves Sansa Stark, even if he’s a coward about it.

But that never happens.

No.

When he comes he’s walking as if he’s carrying the burden of the world on his shoulders. Val avoids him for four days.

She doesn’t want for him to see her this way.

Can’t bear to see how to him she’ll never be more than one of the many he took because he couldn’t have Sansa Stark.

In the end he is the one who corners her, looking as heartbroken as Val feels. She refuses to feel sorry for him.

She’s sorry for herself. Because she knows that if he was to tell her he’s choosing her, despite it all, despite knowing she’ll always be loved less, she’d accept.

No.

“You were right,” he tells her “I am sorry. I— I thought I had gotten over it,” he admits “truth is, I was lying to myself and to you”

Val feels her throat constricting.

She’s giving her dignity more worth than his love, like she should. No man should be ever worth your dignity, she tells herself.

So why does it feel like a defeat still?

“How long?” she demands. Her voice is cruel, and Jon flinches. She forces herself not to care “how long have you loved her?”

Jon wets his lips. Says nothing.

“I deserve at least the truth” Val hisses and Jon squirms as if he has been pinched. Then he hangs his head.

“I can’t choose a moment—” he begins.

“Try” Val interjects and Jon exhales audibly.

“I feel like I loved her since the moment I met her, but that would be a lie. For the longest time she was just my best mate’s little sister, then somehow that gradually changed—” his voice breaks.

“She was the little girl who Robb would have to get out of practice quickly to go collect from her ballet lessons. The same girl who hand-knit me a scarf the first Christmas I spent without my mother, because she wanted me to feel appreciated, even though I never paid her much attention”

“She was the one who’d sit with me and watch stupid naturalistic documentaries she didn’t care for whilst reading a book, but always managing to ask pertaining question to my matters” he admits “I— only an idiot would not love her, she’s so easy to love”

And on that Val has to agree. She’s lovable. In a way that make anger spark in her belly.

“Love is different than being in love,” Val sniffs “and I saw a man in love, not a boy who loves a little girl”

Jon inhales sharply “When she called me,” he admits at last “that’s the moment it hit that I was in love with her,” he tells her “she was crying… just breathing into her phone, unable to speak, yet I knew it was her. Had her send me her location and broke down the bathroom door behind which she was hiding.” he tells her.

“Her eye and cheekbone were bruising and her lip was busted. I don’t remember much after that, only that I had Joffrey pinned down after having punched him in the gut, and I would not have stopped. It was her voice… the way it trembled. That moment I realized it. Fuck, I am in love with her”

Val exhales “It’s been years since then,” she contest “why did you never—”

“It was never the right moment,” Jon interjected “Sansa needed time, then she met Waymar and I decided to move past. I knew I could never have her.”

“Why?”

Jon chuckles out, a dark, self-deprecating laugh “Have you seen her?” he asks “I am just me, Sansa descends from kings” he says “I will never be enough for her and I don’t want to hold her down”

“I moved on, or so I thought”

Ygritte, Val realizes with a startle. Ygritte had been him ‘moving on’. Another red-head, another girl with a beautiful singing voice and an easy smile. Yes, Ygritte was not as lovely as Sansa was, and twice as irrational, but now Val could see the appeal for Jon.

“I want you to know Val,” Jon’s voice interrupts her musings “I genuinely didn’t mean to hurt you,” he tells her “I thought I had moved on, truly”

And Val feels the tears prickle at her eyes, burning. Her throat burns as well.

“I wish it was different” Jon says “but when you got abducted… it was then that it hit me again”

Val breathes out, gingerly, trembling “When you discovered she had disappeared?”

“No, Val. Fuck— I was worried for both of you. I could scarcely sleep or eat, knowing that something could happen to the two of you, I… I care deeply for you”

Val hisses, it is worse than a physical blow even though she is expecting it “I—” Jon’s voice dies out “it wasn’t until I saw her, so scared so— it was then that it hit me again full force. I knew I loved her, thought I had moved past being in love with her, in that moment I knew I had been lying to myself”

“Yet you came to my bed anyway”

Jon looks sick at that “I… I was searching for comfort,” he admits “I knew you loved me and I acted instinctively coming to you. I was worried about you and I needed—”

“You needed to hide” Val seethes “from yourself or from her I don’t know. Point is, you can’t hide from me, Jon. I love you, it’s true, but this— this is not love, this isn’t even care. This is just cowardice and I never took you for a coward”

Now the tears stream down her cheek “I am not mad at her,” she informs him “bless her she’s so dense she hasn’t even realized,” she says “but you… you are not welcome in my life anymore”

“Val, I—”

She twists around enraged, her lip curling rawly on her face “Do not” she hisses “don’t you dare”

He visibly deflates “I am sorry” he says.

Val flinches at that, is that how she’ll be dismissed? An half-hearted apology? No. I deserve better than this.

“I didn’t deserve this, Jon. I deserve to be wanted, and loved and desired the way you are afraid of wanting, loving and desiring her. I won’t settle for anything less” she tells him.

Jon winces at that and Val draws some kind of pleasure in knowing that hurt him at least half of how he hurt her. It’s nasty and terrible, and she’ll feel awful later, but right now she needs the rage to help carry herself out of this situation.

“You’re right, of course you are—”

“And you can’t give me that,” Val interjects and she can see the hurt in his gray eyes “but I can, and I will” she states “thank you, lord Snow, for the false glimmer of love and the half meant sentiment between us” she says.

Then she turns and walks away.

The tears crystalize over her cheeks as she walks in the snow, the chilling cold not colder than she feels.

It’s Dalla who finds her.

She gathers her in her arms, brings her back inside, cleans her face and murmurs praises as Val breaks down.

“You were the one, Val,” her sister whispers in her ear, kissing her head “you were the one who carried yourself out and back home. To say enough. I am so proud of you,” Dalla tells her “what you did. It takes courage and strength. You are the strong one, not him. He has no power over you”

“I’m always going to love him” she cries in her arms.

“You’re always going to love yourself more. You’ll fall in love again, your heart’ll get broken again, but it’ll mend and in the end you’ll find your perfect match”

Years later it still hurts, but the pain is dulled when finally they manage to get what they wanted, to get more rights, to get independence, as the North did. Val is proud, she feels strong and confident now, more than she did then.

So when Sansa Stark, newly named Queen, invites her as the head of the Free Folk, Val accepts. Sansa Stark has aged nicely, perhaps it’s because she’s a nice person. Her smile is as lovely as it always was and her eyes are as sincere and true.

They don’t speak about Jon.

Val is glad of it.

They don’t speak of him, because it was never about him. Not between them. Their acquaintance was not soured because of him, because it survived her relationship with him.

Because both Val and Sansa know.

It always was more important than a man. It was about their people getting what they wanted, what they deserved and they worked together tirelessly to get them that. And they had success.

It hurts less after that.

Val only catches a glimpse of Jon, he is rocking a newborn with a mop of red hair, in his arms and his smile is more genuine than it ever was with her. It pains her. But somehow when she walks away from him this time she’s smiling.

As she looks back beyond her shoulder to Winterfell, Val doesn’t feel like she’s less, nor like she’s better.

She feels like she’s free. Like she's strong. Like the world is full of possibilities just in her reach.

“Race you to Mole Town” Toregg tells her, and her smile becomes a beam on her lips.

“You’re on” she tells him, and then lets go of the brakes before he does. For some reason as they flash through the roads of the North, Val feels like she’s going to win this game.

The smile remains with her.

Fin

So, this was the first one from one of Jon's exes, next one will be from one of Sansa's exes, anyone wants to guess whom I've chosen for the task? I'll leave you with a clue: it's another nice one.

I hope you enjoyed it! We've seen another side of Jon and Sansa, a vulnerable Jon and a dense Sansa, Jon and Sansa through the eyes of Val. I had almost chosen to do Ygritte first, but I chose not to. I wanted to make Val first.

As always you can find it in my series of prompt on ao3: the Jonsa Hag prompts, chapter 5.

#jonsa #jonsa hag prompts #the hag's prompts #jonsa fanfiction

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myfuckingpoetrt · 1 month

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I had a crazy nightmare that we were all on Megan’s car and cody was driving. We kept seeing people on literal bikes and weird vehicles (like golf carts, go karts, atvs, etc) driving on the wrong side of the road. Each time cody would kind of knee-jerk-reaction scream* at them (without rolling a window down) to get off the road and panic a bit but they would pass by fine and we’d keep driving. We got on the highway over where Ridgmar mall is by the Alta mere exit in Fort Worth and imagine this is all happening very quickly.

There was a man with goggles driving some weird car I’ve never seen and he was driving the wrong way and passed between us and the car to the left of us. We were at this point all kind of freaking out because it was the third person. 2 is weird but 3 is not a coincidence. So we are all kind of talking about it and watching him drive off and then we see him hit an 18 wheeler, his weird car catches on fire which catches him on fire, he gets catapulted into the air from being hit and his charred body hits the side of the car. Everyone was screaming and/or crying and I disassociated in the dream which was weird because I felt it happening…

Cody sped up to keep up with traffic because everyone was freaking out and trying to get off the highway. There is someone riding a REGULAR BIKE in front of us on the highway and they’ve been pumping their sculpted, biker short legs so fast to keep up (we did not question them being there lmao.) Another person driving the wrong way comes out of nowhere so people start swerving and breaking and all sorts but then the weird car side swipes the bikers and they fall and cody just bump bump bump bumps right over their bodies because it happened so fast and he couldn’t react in time. Megan says, “what was that?” And I told her let’s worry about getting safe and then we will talk about it. Cody checked out somewhere mentally when megan asked lol. Jon was just shocked and didn’t say much.

Cody then can’t fucking take it anymore cause he ran some people over so he is quickly getting to the side of the road near a bridge and somehow gets through 3 lanes of traffic to get over there even though everyone is driving frantically. So he’s slowing down and then we see (and this is my favorite part) a black gorilla beating the shit out of some guy that also pulled off the road. Cody is like oh fuck and starts backing up and then accidentally backs into a car coming towards on the highway and I woke up.

Hope that helps!

Accident

To dream that you are in an accident signifies pent-up guilt in which you are subconsciously punishing yourself over. Perhaps you are not proud of something you have done. Alternatively, the accident may symbolize an error or mistake you have made. Accident dreams also represent your fears of being in an actual, physical accident. You may simply be nervous about getting behind the wheel. Or the dream is trying to warn you of some accident.

To dream of a car accident symbolizes your emotional state. You may be harboring deep anxieties and fears. Are you "driving" yourself too hard? Perhaps you need to slow down before you hit disaster. You need to rethink or re-plan your course of actions and set yourself on a better path. Dreaming that someone is injured in a car accident means that you cannot control the action of others. They have to live with the consequences of their own decisions.

To dream that a loved one dies in an accident indicates that something within your own Self is no longer functional and is "dead". It is also symbolic of your own relationship with that person. Perhaps you need to let go of this relationship.If you dream that you die from the car accident and actually see the reactions of your loved ones, then it suggests that your reckless activity is affecting those around you. This dream is a wake-up call. TOP

Accomplice

To dream that you are an accomplice to a crime suggests that someone in your waking life is having a negative influence on you. You may be experiencing feelings of guilt with something that you have done.

To dream that you have an accomplice implies that others are enabling your negative habits or behavior. TOP

Goggles

To see or wear goggles in your dream suggest that you are trying to protect yourself from emotional harm. Perhaps you need to confront something in your waking like that you know is hurting you.

Golf Cart

To see or ride a golf cart in your dream suggests that you are too lackadaisical in the pursuit of your goals. You have no sense of urgency in things.

Gorilla

To see a gorilla in your dream suggests that you may be too "over the top" in your behavior. Perhaps you are compensating for your rigidity and stiffness in your waking life. Alternatively, the gorilla symbolizes your primitive impulses, wild nature and repressed sexual energy.

Car

To see a parked car in your dream suggests that you need to turn your efforts and energies elsewhere. You may be needlessly spending your energy in a fruitless endeavor. Alternatively, a parked car may symbolize your need to stop and enjoy life.

If you dream that you hit or ran over someone with a car, then it implies that you have hurt someone in order to move ahead in life.

Dreaming of a car that is driving fast suggests that you need to slow down and think through your choices. You are so focused on your goals that you are leaving behind the people around you

Car Alarm

To hear or set off a car alarm in your dream implies that you are headed on the wrong path. The dream is alerting you to change your direction and alter your course.

Wreck

To see a wreck in your dream represents obstacles and barriers toward your goals. You feel that you are being held back or that you are not making any progress.

Witness

To witness to something in your dream represents your need to be more observant. You need to examine something more closely and look at a situation more objectively. Alternatively, the dream suggests that you are watching life pass you by. Perhaps you are emotionally detached or feel you are an outcast of society.

Windshield

To look through the windshield in your dream represents what is ahead of you and the choices you make. It may also indicate that your approaching your goals in all the wrong way.

Window

To see a window in your dream signifies bright hopes, vast possibilities and insight. If the window of a house is dark, then it indicates a loss to your perception or vitality.

To dream that you are looking out the window signifies your outlook on life, your consciousness and your point of view. It also refers to your intuition and awareness. You may be reflecting on a decision. Or the dream is telling you that you need to go out into the larger world and experience life. Consider the significance of the things you see when you look out the window. If you are looking in the window, then it indicates that you are doing some soul searching and looking within yourself. It is time for some introspection. To see another face in the window in your dream suggests that you are feeling emotionally distant and physically detached. Also consider the emotion depicted on the face.

Wild

To see something wild in your dream represents the uninhibited and animalistic aspect of your personality. In dreams, you feel freer to behave in a way that you normally would not in your waking life.

Wheels

To see spinning wheels in your dream signify completion or continuation of a familiar situation. The dream may be telling you that your life and daily routine is becoming too repetitious. You are going around in circles and headed nowhere. You need to be more spontaneous! Alternatively, the dream symbolizes forward motion and the ability to proceed toward your goals.

Fire

Depending on the context of your dream, to see fire in your dream can symbolize destruction, passion, desire, illumination, purification, transformation, enlightenment, or anger.

Fireball

To see a fireball in your dream symbolizes some self-destructive force.

Flip

To see something flipping signifies excitement.

To dream that you are flipping something indicates that you are feeling regret. The dream may also be a pun that you are driving someone mad or crazy, as in "flipped out".

Body

To dream about dead bodies implies that you are feeling detached from those around you. It may also mean that you are feeling emotionally drained.

Brakes

To dream that you are applying your brakes signifies that you should slow down in your business and/or personal affairs. You have been living on the fast lane and you need to take it easy. Alternatively, the dream may be a pun on "break". Perhaps you need to take a break or perhaps you need to break off some relationship.

To dream that your brakes fail or that you can't reach the brakes forewarns that you lack stability in your life. Now is not the time to take risks. Your life is out of control and you need to make some significant changes. It may also not a bad idea to check out the brakes in your car, as you mind might have picked up subtle cues and is manifesting the problem in your dream. TOP

Break

To dream that you break something indicates that changes are ahead for you. You need to "break" away from some situation and change the direction that your life is headed in. Alternatively, to break something suggests that you need to take things slower as in "take a break". Or the dream may be a pun on being broke. Are money matters weighing on your mind?

To dream that objects around you are breaking suggests that you are under tremendous stress. The dream could be a metaphor that you are literally at your breaking point. TOP

Difficulty

To dream that you are experiencing difficulties reflect waking difficulties. You are under tremendous stress

To dream of disapproval indicates that you are rejecting or ignoring some aspect of yourself. It may also represent your own feelings of self-worth and being accepted.

Disaster

To dream that you are in a disaster represents your personal anxieties and fears of change. You are afraid of not knowing what is in store for you in the future.

Distress

To dream that you or others are in distress represents worries and unhappiness in your waking life. You will find that your worries were unfounded and that they will turn out to be better than expected. Perhaps the dream is telling you to lighten up.

Bicycle

To see a bicycle in your dream indicates that you need to devote time to leisurely pursuits and recreation.

Blood

To dream that others are bleeding signifies an emotional cry for help.

Scared

To dream that you are scared indicates that you are experiencing feelings of self-doubt, incompetence, and lack of control in your waking life. Perhaps you are having second thoughts about a decision you have made. Anger often masquerades as fear, so also consider issues about which you are angry about in your waking life.

Scream

To hear or dream that someone is screaming indicates that some friend or family member is in need of your help.

Highway

To see a highway in your dream represents your sense of direction and your life's path. Consider the conditions of the highway which will reveal how much you feel in charge of your life. A smooth, straight highway signifies inner peace, while a winding, bumpy road reflects emotional distress/disharmony.

Hit

To dream that you hit something or someone symbolizes unexpressed anger and aggression. You tend to keep your negative feelings inside instead of expressing them in a healthy way.

To dream that you are almost hit or were ran over by a car suggests that your lifestyle, beliefs or goals may be in conflict with another's. It may also be symbolic of a jolting experience or injured pride. If you are almost hit by a car that looks like a cat, then it suggests that you are hindering someone's goals or not letting them be who they are.

Hit And Run

To dream that you are a victim of a hit and run means that certain aspects of your life beyond your control. Alternatively, dreaming of a hit and run implies that someone else's goal and life path are affecting your own personal goals and path. If your dream involved you running away from a hit and run accident, then it implies that you are running away from some waking responsibility. You are refusing to take responsibility for your actions.

Traffic

To dream that you are in traffic signifies the frustrations that you are experiencing in your life. Things are not going as smoothly as you would like it to. You feel stuck at where you are in life.

To see traffic in your dream indicates the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Sometimes you feel like you are just going with the flow. Things have become too routine.

Traffic Light

To see a traffic light in your dream suggests that you feel you are being held back from pursuing your goals. Your forward progress is being controlled by someone or by some outside forces. In other words, you are not in control of your own life. Alternatively, the dream represents the pressure to succeed or else be left behind. If the traffic light is green, then it indicates that you have been given a seal of approval to follow whatever path you have chosen or whatever decision you have made.

Tragedy

To dream of a tragedy indicates that you are experiencing some form of grief or remorse. It is also symbolic of regret.

Panic

To dream that you are in a panic indicates a lack of control and power in your life. You are feeling helpless in some situation or unable to make a clear decision. Calm down.

Paranoia

To dream that you are paranoid indicates your hesitance in moving forward in some situation or relationship. You are so overcome with fear and suspicion that you are not ready to take that major step in your life.

Park

To dream that you are parking your car represents your desire to settle down. Alternatively, it means that you feel accomplished in your goals and satisfied with your life. If you have difficulty parking the car, then it means that you are in some sort of a rut. You are feeling restless. Perhaps you wished you had taken a different path in your life.

To dream that you parked your car in a non-parking zone suggests that you are poking your head in places where you do not belong.

Partner

To see a partner in your dream suggests that you need to seek the help of others in order to accomplish a mutual goal. Alternatively, a partner symbolizes the duality of your personality. Also consider your waking relationship with your own partner.

Passenger

To dream that you are a passenger suggests that you are not in control of your life. You are letting others decide for you. To see other passengers in your dream indicates that you are spending too much energy pleasing others. Perhaps, you feel that others have been leeching off of you.

Abnormal

To dream of some abnormality or of abnormal objects indicate that the problems that have been preoccupying your mind will soon be resolved. Note that anything appearing abnormal draws attention to that particular aspect. Something in your life may not be consistent with how you feel things should be.

Anarchy

To see anarchy in your dream suggests that you need to show some restraint when expressing yourself

Apes

To see an ape in your dream indicates deception, mischievous, and falsehood. Alternatively, it may refer that you or someone have gone "ape". You need to calm down. The ape may also symbolize your wild inner nature, particularly your sexual nature.

Attack

To dream that you are being attacked by someone indicates your character is being questioned. You feel the need to defend yourself. You are feeling stressed, vulnerable and helpless. You may also be facing difficult changes in your waking life. Dreaming of an attack provides a way for you to confront these situations that you may be avoiding in real life.

To dream that you are being attacked by an animal is a warning to be careful with those around you. Take notice of who you know in your waking life that shares and exhibits the same qualities of the animal that attacked you in your dream.

A TV

To see or ride an ATV in your dream indicates your desire to get off the beaten path. You want create your own path and do things your way. Alternatively, the dream suggests that you need to find time for some solitude in your life. M

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finchtoasted · 5 months

Text

Finished tma s3 I’m gonna put Elias in a blender and kill him. He hurt my son. He’s the worst. Also Jon was in a coma for 6 MONTHS WTF bro CANNOT catch a break L

#finchtalks #tma spoilers #the magnus archives #tma #posts

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ghostbustermelanieking · 3 years

Note

jonmartin for 13? :)

i have absolutely no restraint and cannot write anything short im so sorry. this is a mag 102 au where martin finds out jon was kidnapped sooner. warning for discussion of this kidnapping as depicted in the episode, and the aftermath of recovering from this. also here on ao3.

13. things you said at the kitchen table

In the end, it's Melanie who tells Martin Jon's been kidnapped. Catches him in the break room, irritated and banging around the mugs, and she drops it into a sentence like it's something casual to be communicated. Oh yeah, Jon's back. Guess he's been kidnapped or something, and something sharp presses into Martin's chest, something like urgency. He's pushed his way out of his chair and halfway towards the door in a blind sort of franticness before Melanie catches him by the arm. "He's fine, you know," she says. "He looks… I mean, he doesn't look good, but he…"

"A month, " says Martin, feeling sick. "A month, he's been gone, and we… we didn't…"

"We didn't know, " Melanie says annoyedly, but there's a tiny pinprick of guilt in her voice, too. "He… he wasn't here before. You know that."

Right, Martin thinks, because you're probably the person he talked to most before he disappeared, and then he immediately feels guilty. Jon's been kidnapped, and he's… he's just… "Where is he?" he says, softer this time. (The bite's still in his voice, a little bit. He isn't sure who to be furious at, but it's hard not to be under the circumstances.) "Has… has he left?"

"Uh… no, I don't think so," says Melanie. "He… he said he was going to go lie down."

Martin knows, immediately, where he is, and he tries not to wince at it; he remembers sleeping there every night, scared out of his mind on that little cot, he doesn't know how Jon stands it. "I'm going to go check on him," he says. "I… he shouldn't… I'm going to go check."

Melanie lets go of his arm. "I think Elias knew," she says darkly. "Jon said it and he didn't even bat an eye. He knew, and he didn't tell us."

Something twists in Martin, something that he pushes aside—doesn't matter, not yet, all that matters right now is making sure Jon is all right. He nods a little, at Melanie, and then he pushes out of the break room and down towards the office. Tim is out for the day (not surprising), and Basira is reading at her desk; she doesn't look up when Martin comes through. Martin goes to the storage room where the cot is, where he knows it still is, and raps his knuckles quietly on the door frame before opening the door.

Jon jumps, when Martin enters, in a way that instantly makes Martin shrink back with guilt. He's huddled on the cot, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and he looks awful. Thinner, hair shaggier than when Martin saw him last. He looks exhausted, leaning towards the wall like he needs it to hold him up, and his arms are wrapped around himself in a protective sort of way. "... Martin?" he says, voice thin, and Martin honestly can't tell if he's happy to see him or not.

"... Hi," Martin says, honestly not sure what to say. (What do you say in a situation like this?) He chews at his lower lip, reaching for what to say— Are you all right doesn't seem appropriate, when Jon is so clearly not, but it's what he comes up with, his voice shaking a little when he asks it.

Jon laughs, bitter, and uncoils his arms from around himself, relaxing a little. "Honestly? Honestly, not really, Martin. I… it's been…" He lifts a hand to press against his forehead; his sleeves fall down and Martin winces, immediately, at the red marks on his wrist, where he must've been restrained. "It's… it's, uh, really good to see you, Martin," he adds, softly.

Martin presses a hand to his mouth, just for a minute; he's torn, he doesn't want Jon to see him upset, not when he's… "Melanie… told me," he tries. "What you… and I didn't… Jon, I'm so sorry. We had no idea, I… I swear, if we'd known, we would've…"

Jon sits up a little straighter, something flashing in his eyes. "Hey… hey, no, Martin, it's… i-it wasn't your fault, it's all right, it's… t-there was no way to find me, and I hadn't really been… around before then, and it…" He breaks off his words, clutching a little harder at the blanket. "... Elias didn't deem it worth telling anyone," he adds, with a wry laugh.

Martin takes a few steps closer, trying his damndest not to fall apart (at the fact that Jon looks like this, that Jon's been gone a month, that Jon is somehow trying to comfort him when he's…). "You aren't… d-did they hurt you?" he asks, uncertain who they even are.

Jon flinches a little, looks down at his feet. "No, n-not… not really. I… not, um…" He laughs a little again, a hollow sound. "I'm just so tired. "

Martin stops, a few feet away; he thinks about touching Jon, some sign of comfort, a hand on his shoulder or—but no, that wouldn't be—he can't do that, not when Jon's just been kidnapped, it's probably the last thing he wants, to be abruptly touched. He does what he can do, instead; he says, "Jon, d-do you have anywhere… er, there's a… there's a reason you're staying here, isn't there? Wh-what about your friend you were staying with, could you go back there?"

Jon immediately, vehemently shakes his head. "I-I can't go back. Not if, n-not after… th-they came there before, they found me there, and if I go back… I-I told Georgie I'd leave. I can't bring her into this. I can't. If they came back…"

"Okay," says Martin. "Okay, that's…" He crouches a little, feeling awkward as he does it, but he can't shake this feeling of—of looming over Jon. "Y-you can't stay here, Jon. This cot is horrible, i-it's… it's not a place for recovery, it's…"

"I'm going to find a place," Jon says softly. "I just… I need to sleep. First."

"You shouldn't stay here, though," says Martin, "not after… you need a bed, a real bed, Jon. I…" He stops, halfway considers for a second. Starts again, because what else is he going to do? "C-come stay with me."

Jon looks up, shocked, but he doesn't immediately protest, so Martin continues: "Sleep on a real bed, recover, j-just until you're… I mean, my bed isn't great, but it's better than a cot, especially after…" He stops. He doesn't know what to say. "Just… you deserve something better than that, right now," he tries.

Jon shakes his head, just a little. "Martin, I can't. I… i-if they came for me again, then you would…"

"I don't care," Martin says, firmer this time. (If Jon doesn't want to come back with him, fine, but he won't let that be the reason.)

"Martin, i-if anything were to happen, i-if you got caught in the crosshairs, I'd…"

"Really, Jon, I don't care. I'm not going to let them take you again, so you can put that thought out of your mind." Martin adjusts his position—it's uncomfortable, squatting like this, but making sure Jon feels safe is more important. (If it's even helping at all.) "You said you didn't want to put your friend in danger because she's out of this, right? Well—I'm in this. Pretty far into it, at this point, there's no getting out of it. So it doesn't matter. Okay?"

Jon worries at the edge of the blanket with his overlong nails. "... I… wouldn't want to impose…"

"You're not, Jon. I'm offering." Jon's still quiet. Martin shifts back into a standing position, because it really is uncomfortable, going slow; he adds, "It's the least I can do. Please."

Jon's hands are shaking. Martin can see it, now, and it's hard to watch; he's pushed a lot of fury back, just watching Jon now, still without any idea what's happened. "A—all right," Jon says quietly, finally, and his voice is thick, like he might cry. "Okay. Thank you. Thank you, Martin." And Martin feels a flood of relief at this, that Jon might be, at least, somewhat safe in his flat.

---

They take a cab home. The Tube seems like it would be a lot. Jon really is exhausted, huddled up in an old coat despite the warm weather, leaning against the window in the back of the car. Martin shows him the bath and the bedroom, when they get home, says, "Let me know if you need anything," and leaves him alone. It feels like the right thing to do.

Martin stays in the living room. The anger begins to rise to the surface, then, coming out in bursts of nervous pacing and muttering (quietly, of course; he's had lots of practice with that, with Mum). He's furious at whoever took Jon (he isn't sure who, but he has a sneaking suspicion it's connected to the Unknowing), more furious at Elias for not telling them. He's going to say something this time, he thinks—march up there and give Elias a piece of his mind, or, or draft a furious email—and Martin has to stop there because it's all starting to sound ridiculous. He's going to say something now? He didn't say something when they found out Sasha died, when Elias told them that they were all trapped, but he's going to say something now? It sounds ridiculous, it does, and what would saying something do? Jon's back now, more or less safe, and there's nothing he can do now—no charging, triumphant rescues, nothing like that, all he can do is offer Jon his bathroom, somewhere safe to sleep. Shouting at Elias won't do a thing.

(Martin wants to do something. He should've said something for Sasha, and he thinks he'll regret that forever, but if he couldn't then… well, he wants to have the courage to say something for Jon. But he doesn't. For some horrible reason, he can't.)

Jon sleeps for over fifteen hours, all afternoon and into the night. Martin sleeps on the couch. (He goes into the room to get the extra blanket and a change of clothes, and for a moment, he worries he'll wake Jon, but he must be quiet enough. Jon doesn't wake; he makes a strained sound in his sleep and turns over, curling in protectively on himself, but he doesn't wake up. Martin wants to go over there, kneel by the bed and hold Jon's hand, climb into bed and hold Jon and make sure he isn't hurt again. He doesn't. He doesn't have that with Jon, and now isn't the time, he can't scare Jon, make him uncomfortable, he has to leave Jon alone.) Jon's still asleep when Martin wakes hours later, tangled in his blanket on the couch, restless and on alert. He stares at the front door, tensing like he expects someone to come in (someone coming back for Jon), but nothing does. The apartment stays quiet.

Martin gets up to make tea. It's still early, still dark outside, but he can't go back to sleep, he can't relax. He puts on the kettle and sits at the table, opens a packet of biscuits to munch on absently. Something to do. Something to do besides sit and think.

The door creaks, abruptly, and Martin's head shoots up to see Jon, leaving the bedroom, looking dwarfed in one of Martin's rumpled jumpers. He looks at Martin with a tired sort of tentativeness and says, "Hi," softly.

"Hi, Jon," says Martin, his own voice too soft. "How… how did you sleep?"

Jon rubs at his throat, an absent sort of motion, and pads across the floor to the table. "I… well, actually. Very well. Best… best sleep I've had in a month."

Martin's heart breaks a little, and he pretends it doesn't. Jon motions to the empty chair beside him and says, "Do you mind if I…"

"No, no, of course not," says Martin quickly. "... D'you want some tea?"

A funny look passes over Jon's face as he sits and he says, "Yes. Yes, I… tea sounds amazing, Martin."

Martin gets up to get out another mug, to get out the milk and sugar. "I can make you something to eat, too," he says, and immediately feels horrible for not suggesting it earlier. (He doesn't want to speculate about when Jon's last eaten.) " Christ, why didn't I… I'm so sorry, Jon, you must be starving. I should've…"

"Don't, Martin, it's… I-I'm fine," says Jon. "Honestly, I… I-I can eat in a little bit, I'm not really hungry."

Martin bites his lower lip too hard and grimaces at the sudden burst of pain. "Okay," he murmurs. "Just… let me know when you're ready."

"I will," says Jon.

There's silence for a few moments aside from Martin puttering around the tiny kitchen. It feels strangely domestic in a way that Martin isn't used to; he hasn't lived with anyone since Mum. He and Jon have shared meals before—they did it often, before Jon went on the run because they'd thought he was a murderer—and Martin's made him tea a dozen times, but it's never like… this. Quiet and natural, like they've done it a dozen times. Jon's staring down at the table, tracing a pattern cut into the top with an absent finger; he's shivering, in his chair, and Martin makes a mental note to turn on the heat. And then the kettle goes off, a sharp sound in the silent room, and Jon's jumping, jolting nearly out of his chair with huge, panicked eyes.

"Sorry, sorry!" Martin says in a rush, reaching to yank the kettle off the eye. "Sorry—I-I forgot it was there."

"I-i-it's all right," Jon says. He's tensed against the table, his palms pressed to the top, like he's waiting for a bomb to go off, but he looks at Martin and he says, "Just a… little on edge, b-but really, it's fine."

Martin's chest aches as he fixes the tea. All of him aches, a guilt he can't really put his finger on—he didn't notice Jon was gone, he couldn't go after him, and now he can't even get to the kettle quick enough to keep from scaring Jon out of his wits. He doesn't say anything, though, besides another murmured, "Sorry," as he passes Jon the mug, and sits back down beside him.

Jon holds onto the mug with both hands, like he expects to be pulled away, inhales a bit before taking a drink. "I've… missed your tea, Martin," he says quietly, stiltedly, like it's difficult to say. "All this time."

Martin blinks in genuine surprise at that—all this time, and he's wondered before if Jon was just tolerating the daily cups. "You're joking," he says with disbelief.

"I'm not," says Jon—and it's stunningly familiar, that tone of voice. He smiles a little down into the mug. "Haven't had a decent cup since February—Georgie's a coffee drinker."

"The audacity, " Martin snorts, theatrically, some small attempt to keep Jon smiling like that.

"Yes, well—that's what I told her," says Jon, still with that halfway smile. He looks up at Martin abruptly, and something shifts on his face, almost—almost guilt of his own, which makes no sense. He says, "Martin, I've… I've taken your bed, haven't I? You… you should've said something."

"No, I shouldn't have, and I won't," says Martin firmly. "I didn't bring you here to sleep on the couch, Jon, for god's sake. The bed is yours."

"Sleeping on a couch won't kill me, Martin—"

"And it won't kill me either. You're not talking me out of this, Jon."

"A couch would be an improvement over that cot— anything would be. I shouldn't have…" That same look passes over Jon's face: that something resembling guilt. "I should never have made you stay there," he nearly whispers. "For months on that cot, after what you'd…"

"Jon, don't," Martin says, and he reaches out suddenly, to cover Jon's hand where it lays on the table. Jon looks up at that, as if he's startled, and Martin yanks his hand back, but he doesn't bring it too far; he leaves it there, hovering just above Jon's. " Don't ," he says. "I-it was a long time ago, and it was… I didn't mind staying there, I wasn't… you gave me a way out, and I-I appreciated that. I still do, Jon. So don't, please. Don't beat yourself up over that."

"I should've offered you better," says Jon, something like disgust in his tone. "I should've… there are so many things I should've done better."

Well—he isn't wrong, Martin thinks, but—but there's a dozen things they both should've done better, and now isn't the time to discuss them all, so Martin just says, "Don't," again. "Please. You don't have to… it's okay. It is. " And after a moment, Jon nods. He hasn't moved his hand away, but Martin feels odd, leaving his hovering there, so he just pulls it back.

They drink tea in silence for a few minutes. It's a pleasant silence, one that, under different circumstances, Martin might allow himself to hope for every day. It's several long moments before Jon speaks again, his voice rasping and small—he says, "It was the Circus. That took me. T-the one we've been looking for, planning the ritual. They'd… they planned it, they were watching me and they came."

Martin tries not to flinch, tries to ignore what feels like his insides grinding themselves together. Jon keeps talking after a moment; he says, "They… they wanted my skin. For the ritual. They… kept me for that, so they could… skin me. They were waiting for that."

Martin can't stop the words this time, when they push their way out; he says, "Oh, Christ, " like air being pushed out of him, like a sucker punch. He says, "Jon…" and his voice breaks, too, and something inside of him rips when Jon looks back at him, when he looks as if he might cry.

"Um, Martin," he says, and he inclines his head tentatively towards Martin. "Do you mind… um, if I…"

His arms go out to the side a bit, and it's then that Martin realizes what Jon's asking for. He nods, immediately, and opens his arms, and Jon leans forward and into him so quickly that Martin wonders if he was waiting.

Martin folds his arms around Jon gently, tentatively (one hand cupping the back of his head); he wants to cling, wants to hold Jon tight enough that nothing else would be able to take him, but he's afraid to hold on too tight. Jon, though, clings hard, his grip tight, his fingers digging desperately into the back of Martin's shirt. So Martin tightens his grip, and leans his head against Jon's, and lets Jon expel shaky breaths into his shoulder. He rubs tiny circles into Jon's back, murmurs, It's okay, it's okay now, and desperately wills it to be true.

Minutes or hours later—it is impossible to be sure—Jon whispers, "Thank you," into Martin's shirt. He whispers it with a sort of finalty, but he makes no move to pull back. So Martin keeps holding him.

"Jon… I'm so sorry," he says softly. "I'm so sorry. I… i-if I'd known. I swear, I would've come for you if I'd known."

Jon takes another shuddering breath and looks up at him. His eyes are wet. There's something in his expression Martin can't quite place… reassurance, maybe. Or trust. "I know," he says. "Martin, I-I know you would've. I know."

They sit there for a while longer, just like that, holding onto each other at Martin's kitchen table.

#i have no idea what this is lol it just came to me. apparently i will never stop trying to write fic remedying 101 lol #tma fic #jonmartin #the magnus archives #i wrote this #kidnapping tw

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une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir · 3 years

Text

random stuff on songs in Sansa I ~ AFFC

All her nights were full of song, and by day she prayed for silence.

Sansa loves songs, but in truth they are just a sanitised version of history. Sansa's role in history will be big, from her stay at King's Landing to her return to Winterfell, on and on. She's already part of a song, she's just not aware of it.

And the songs he chose . . . He sang of the Dance of the Dragons, of fair Jonquil and her fool, of Jenny of Oldstones and the Prince of Dragonflies. He sang of betrayals, and murders most foul, of hanged men and bloody vengeance. He sang of grief and sadness.

No matter where she went in the castle, Sansa could not escape the music.

This is the history she has not lived yet. We know this is true because the very first, the Dance of the Dragons, has a second equivalent that has just only started and hasn't affected her as of yet (not even in her first chapter of TWOW).

Anyway, three songs: Dance of the Dragons, Florian and Jonquil, and Duncan and Jenny.

It floated up the winding tower steps, found her naked in her bath, supped with her at dusk, and stole into her bedchamber even when she latched the shutters tight. It came in on the cold thin air, and like the air, it chilled her.

There are four moments these songs catch her in. It's the second that gives it away as to how it should be interpreted because they match 1:1. But starting from the start...

"He sang of the Dance of the Dragons" VERSUS "It floated up the winding tower steps."

The Dance of the Dragons redux has started when Young Griff outed himself as Aegon VI and invaded Westeros. He opened the "hostilities" when he refused to grovel for Daniella's favour and went to get his birthright himself. Daniella will also participate because she sees the throne as her birthright and has no problems usurping the rightful heirs (Viserys). It's likely Jon will be dragged into this, as he's Targaryen as well.

"It floated up the winding tower steps" projects the idea of an upwards movement. The dragon song is coming up North. There are two options here, Sansa will flee North because the dragon war reaches the Vale (in whatever form, even if by rumour) straight to the arms of another dragon (Girl in Grey) and / or the dragon war will eventually come North. It's my conviction that the Targaryen brothers will fight each other for a time (Aegon's Conquest meets Northern Independence) before reaching a truce, which would qualify as part of the Dance of Dragons.

"Jonquil and her fool" VERSUS "found her naked in her bath"

This is the most obvious sign that they should be paired as said, since Florian and Jonquill's story is literally that, Florian finding Jonquill naked in a pool and falling in love with her. There is more to this story (it also involves dragons), but in specific the bath part is mentioned here. BTW this is a stupid story. Nobody falls in love with another because they see them naked, at most they fall in lust. Regardless, if Sansa is up North (either way from the previous song she's already there and as of TWOW she's heading there soon), then there's one candidate, the Winterfell Hot Springs.

We can guess a male finds Sansa naked at the Hot Springs, and something that can be passed of as romance happens. Much like before, there are several ways this can come to be but there are only two characters that are associated with frisky times in the Godswood of Winterfell, Theon Greyjoy and Jon Snow. The former is too traumatised by sexual torture while the latter has fantasies of bathing naked with his woman and then have exibitionist sex in front of the Heart Tree, so the latter is the likelier candidate.

I know it's not a popular theory because it's somewhat disgusting, but it all adds up. The Stark kids bathed naked at the Hot Springs (Bran confirms this in ACOK, but this also happens at the Water Gardens until they're 12-14,). A 12-14 male teen is at that age when they start getting "interested" in the opposite sex (only worse if thy parade around naked), so imagine a teen getting "interested" in someone they shouldn't at the weekly Stark kids bathing routine and this horrifies them so much because tHeY'Re NoT tArGaRyEnS to the point of wanting to join a celibate order, sacrificing their biggest wish (family). And that's remembered by this teen, now a man, in a "take two" of this event. Truly a fool though, as he knows nothing about "tArGaRyEnS" or that they're actually not siblings.

"Jenny of Oldstones and the Prince of Dragonflies" VERSUS "supped with her at dusk, and stole into her bedchamber even when she latched the shutters tight"

"supped with her at dusk" projects the idea of just before the night starts, which in ASOIAF also projects the idea of the Long Night and before winter. Such this all gives us the time frame, just before the dead come. You know, around the time the northern campaign happens. It's my conviction, from a number of feasts Sansa attends where she supped "trouts", that this suggests the norther campaign will likely extend to the Riverlands and may meet with Aegon's Conquest campaign (Dance of Dragons V2, congruent with song 1).

"stole into her bedchamber even when she latched the shutters" projects the idea of a thief getting inside an intimate place (where she sleeps, where her bed is) despite her best efforts not to. The simpler conclusion is rape. The most likely conclusion though, is something much more benign.

"stole into her bedchamber" in ASOIAF is associated with wildling custom of marriage. Most (if not all) accounts of this ritual involve the man getting the woman while she's asleep. I can recall three stories where it happened as such. Bael stole a Stark maiden from her bed. Yggrite accuses Jon of stealing her the night the Night's Watch raided their camp, she's the one that was asleep. Longspear stole Munda from her bed while she was asleep. Interestingly, the first is a Stark, the others are redheads. These fit Sansa perfectly.

So Sansa stolen by a wilding or someone that qualifies as one. Any will do, but in specific there's a character that has already been mentioned twice in regards with these songs and also fits into this one. Jon Snow has been accused of having become a wildling / half-wildling due to spending time with them and making peace with them. He was accused of stealing Ygritte but refused that he did it, considered stealing another to make a family but also refused to usurp Sansa's claim (we'll get to that below), so there's a third coming up for him.

"even when she latched the shutters" suggests resistance and that's also according to wildling custom, as the woman is supposed to fight against stealing. While a wildling woman fights physically, Sansa fights psychologically. As for sex, Sansa fought against Sandor with kindness and fought against Tyrion with courtesy, so neither succeeded in stealing her. However, Sansa "latching the shutters" suggests a different kind of resistance than those used before (both Sandor and Tyrion entered her bedchamber without stealing into it), as if she put barriers in place.

Sansa putting up barriers happens in ASOS / AFFC. She doesn't believe anyone will marry her for love ("It is not me she wants her son to marry, it is my claim. No one will ever marry me for love.") and she doesn't really want to marry again. ("A marriage . . ." Her throat tightened. She did not want to wed again, not now, perhaps not ever."). Such, "stole into her bedchamber even when she latched the shutters" suggests that Jon convinces her otherwise. The question is... how.

"Jenny of Oldstones and the Prince of Dragonflies" Now, for the song that goes with it, is also kind of telling. The story of Jenny and Duncan is about Duncan falling in love with Jenny and abdicating so he can marry her. So someone throws away their claim, breaking through Sansa's belief that nobody will marry for love but for her claim, and will ease her into wanting to marry again.

Jon actually has two claims. The first is Robb's will, which names Jon as his heir over Sansa. Jon wanting to void the will not only follows the Jenny and Duncan song (the man throws away his claim for the woman) it also destroys half of Sansa's barrier (he protects her claim, we already know he did this once per Stannis' insistence, incidently stealing a woman was mentioned, as said before it appears it's all thematically linked).

The second is by birth, as he's Rhaegar Targarye's son. If somehow Jon is legitimate, then he's King Aegon VI's heir until he has children, and he's also a prince. If I recall, most of Sansa's allusions around a Targ union are with a Targaryen prince, not a Targaryen king). If Jon is a bastard, then he'll be considered a threat to a Aegon VI, just like every bastard is (the Targaryens are well known for bloody wars between legitimates and bastards). I would assume this will be a doozy for brothers to deal with.

Somehow, either or both claims should have a hand in convincing Sansa that Jon would want to marry her for love instead of her claim as well as convincing Sansa to marry again. Robb's will clearly covers the former but not the latter (she can't marry her brother, tHeY'Re NoT LaNnIsTeR oR TaRgArYeNs, even though they are). However, Jon's second claim is what allows that marriage. For example, if Aegon accepts peace between the South belonging to him and the North belonging to Sansa as long as Jon throws away hs claim, yeah that's it. But any that fits the Duncan and Jenny story as well as Sansa being stolen despite her misgivings, will do.

It's worth noting Robb's will and it's implications (Sansa being usurped and Jon's kids being a threat to the legitimate line) are discussed at lenght between Cat and Robb at Oldstones, precisely where legend says Jenny and Duncan met (or where she came from, I cannot remember now the specifics), next to a sepulcher that represents Jon's true birthright as a Targaryen (the sepulcher is of a king with a warhammer upon his chest, which is how his father Rhaegar died, and covered with wild roses, which are a symbol of his mother Lyanna), and solves Robb's will implications (they can marry each other, so his children are hers, so they're no threat to the Stark legitimate line). As said, all tightly thematically linked and I cannot blieve this us a coincidence.

It came in on the cold thin air, and like the air, it chilled her. Though it had not snowed upon the Eyrie since the day that Lady Lysa fell, the nights had all been bitter cold.

So Dance of Dragons starts (Aegon's Conquest), some shenanigans at Winterfell's Hot Springs, then some claim throwing to the trash and a marriage. And after that comes winter. So it kind of suggests this all happens BEFORE the War of the Dawn, not after.

After the songs bit, we have the "meat" of the chapter, which is what the whole thing revolves around. Petyr and Sansa must lie about Lysa's fate to both Robyn and the Vale Lords. I would just like to point the following.

“Some lies are love, ” Petyr had assured her. She reminded him of that.

“When we lied to Lord Robert, that was just to spare him, ” she said.

“And this lie may spare us. Else you and I must leave the Eyrie by the same door Lysa used.” Petyr picked up his quill again. “We shall serve him lies and Arbor gold, and he’ll drink them down and ask for more, I promise you.”

He is serving me lies as well, Sansa realized. They were comforting lies, though, and she thought them kindly meant. A lie is not so bad if it is kindly meant.

Petyr, who's pretending to be Sansa's father, lied to her cousin Robyn about his mother, to spare him from the pain of the truth. Likewise Ned, who's Sansa's father, most likely lied to her cousin Jon about his mother, to spare him from the pain of the truth. Some lies are love, they are kindly meant.

Petyr, who's sort of Warden of the East for the time being, must lie to the Vale's lords & company about Lysa's fate, as he believes if he told the truth, he and his fake child (Sansa) would die. Likewise Ned, who's Warden of the North, must also lie to the rest of the realm about Lyanna's fate (death by childbirth), as he believes if he told the truth, he and his fake child (Jon) would die. Some lies spare innocents (Sansa / Jon), they are also kindly meant.

There's more stuff, but I don't feel like writing it now.

I always lol at Sansa's cousin being upset about his mother's death so he soughts her bed to nuzzle at her breasts and wet the bed (*shifts eyes*). This is important because Sansa bars the door to keep him out ("she latched the shutters"), yet at the end of the chapter, her cousin gets inside anyway ("stole into her chambers") because she forgot to bar the door. No idea what's that supposed to suggest, right?

#jonsa #should i tag this that if its just random thoughts with no finesse

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miazeklos · 2 years

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Love is more powerful than reason. We all know that. Look at my brother. "Love is the death of duty."

Yes! It's so clearly spelled out in the text! Poor Jaime can't catch a break from his brother's judgement even in death. ;D

I find it really interesting how love vs duty pretty much frames Jaime's presence in the show, and he chooses love both times - this is the last thing said about him, along with Died protecting his Queen, which is along the same vein, and the first memorable thing he does is push Bran out of the tower (going against his vow to protect/defend), and he justifies it with the fact that he does it for love. Love is the death of duty. And, if we add in the books, there's also the perfect in-between point where they intersect:

He had joined the Kingsguard for love, of course.

And, as an aside, since I love the parallels/counter-parallels between him and Jon, I also find it fascinating how during this conversation with Tyrion, he cannot decide which is which. Love is the death of duty, duty is the death of love, but he can't determine where his family or Daenerys belong on that scale. He's conflicted because his loyalties are scattered and he wants everyone involved to come out of it safe and sound, but, of course:

So many vows... they make you swear and swear. Defend the king. Obey the king. Keep his her secrets. Do his bidding. Your life for his. But obey your father. Love your sister...

This is where Jon is forced to make a choice, and it costs him a whole lot, and it breaks his heart, because it genuinely is a difficult, devastating dilemma for him. Jaime, on the other hand, never thought about it twice - he'd made his choice since the start.

#Jaime Lannister #Jon Snow #Jaime x Cersei #got #meta #asks #Anonymous #sorry #this got long #also #tomorrow #I'll answer the rest #of me asks #for I am very tired rn #parallels

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phoebenavarro · 3 years

Text

the more things change

rarepair time! I have not known peace since mag117. feat backup archivist martin with beholding powers

the magnus archives, martinelias, 2100 words, warning for dubcon kissing

read on ao3 here

“Jon is in trouble,” Martin says as he bursts into Elias’s office. A few months ago, the concept of doing something so brazenly rude to Elias would have made him freeze on the spot. It’s funny how things change, Martin thinks bitterly, and how things stay the same. He’s still terrified of Elias, although now for completely different reasons.

“Martin,” Elias replies, “Come in. What can I do for you?” He glances up at Martin briefly before returning to his paperwork.

Martin’s brain stutters. He didn’t really think this through, and he didn’t expect Elias to be so nonplussed.

“Jon’s in trouble,” Martin repeats, some of his anxiety chased away by a need to do something slowly creeping back in, “and I’m worried,” he finishes, summoning back the indignation he feels towards Elias at all times lately.

“Did something in particular happen?” Elias asks, “Because ‘worried’ seems to be a constant state of being for you.” He sounds bored, and that makes Martin angry, angry that Elias clearly doesn’t care about Jon’s well-being, and deeper down, angry that Elias doesn’t take him seriously.

Martin scoffs, but he realizes he can’t really explain what actually brought him to Elias’s office. He clenches his jaw.

“I don’t know!” he grits out, “Jon was fine, on the bus in America, then he was at a rest stop and a woman came up to him and forced him into her car.”

That makes Elias look up, and his gaze is even more piercing than normal, like he’s trying to rip through Martin with his eyes.

“How did you know that?” Elias asks, his tone so severe that Martin folds in on himself.

“I-I don’t know!” he squeaks, and he frowns. He realizes he really doesn’t know how he knew that. “I just— I had a feeling, I guess…?” He trails off. Even he knows how weak that sounds.

“I don’t think you did,” Elias says, raising one of his perfect eyebrows at Martin, “You just knew, didn’t you?”

Martin stutters, trying to come up with some explanation, but he realizes that Elias is right. He just knew.

Fuck, Martin just knew. He sinks into the chair across from Elias, stunned. Elias’s face breaks out into a grin. He chuckles quietly.

“See, this is what I like about you, Martin. You don’t lie to yourself. Oh, you may spend all your time lying to everyone else, keeping them at arm’s length because you’re terrified they won’t like you if they get to know the real you, but you’re honest to yourself.”

Martin stares at Elias, thrown off-kilter by being told such intimate things about himself so matter-of-factly. He wonders if that’s how Elias sounded when he did whatever it was he did to Melanie. “W-what?”

Elias leans back in his chair, grinning. “You know, when I asked you to start recording statements, I never expected you to progress quite this quickly.”

Martin’s eyes harden. “Are you saying I have freaky eye powers now? Like Jon?” Of course Elias planned for this, wanted this, and Martin just went along with it. Elias stands and crosses to the other side of the desk, perching on it across from Martin.

“Not quite like Jon, no. Jon is the Archivist. I’m sure your own Becoming will be different.” Elias turns his gaze back to Martin, but this time it feels more appraising. Elias leans forward, and Martin feels cold dread pooling in his gut. “I’m actually quite pleased. This is a promising development.”

“R-right, but what does that actually mean, though?” Martin asks, trying to stay calm and refusing to think of the implications of him being able to just know things. Elias wants to knock him off balance, keep him a stammering mess so he won’t get any answers out of him. “Is this going to keep happening? Will I develop other… abilities?”

“Yes, it will keep happening as you get stronger. As for if you’ll gain more abilities, I don’t know, Martin.” He leans forward. “But I’ll enjoy watching.”

“O-Okay, but what does that mean? Practically? I mean, the Eye’s not giving me these powers out of the goodness of its heart. What do I have to do? Can I stop it?”

Elias smiles at him with an almost unbearable fondness, which Martin has never seen from him before, and it makes Martin uneasy. “I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do to stop it at this point,” he says, and Martin sighs. Figures. “You don’t need to be doing anything you won’t be doing already, just reading statements.”

“Right, as I become less and less human,” Martin spits.

“Being human isn’t everything, Martin. You’re not going to stop being yourself.” Elias’s smile turns cruel. “But maybe you’d like that, to stop worrying about being good and nice all the time. Doesn’t it get exhausting?” Elias asks conspiratorially.

Martin narrows his eyes at him, refusing to rise to the bait. “You knew about my CV the whole time, didn’t you,” Martin says. It’s not a question, but Elias answers anyway.

“Oh, yes,” he chuckles, “It’s why I hired you in the first place. It impressed me, honestly. Such a bald-faced lie, you were so terrified, but you barely even flinched. It was charming, really.”

“Charming,” Martin repeats skeptically.

Elias tsks. “Come now, Martin, I know you don’t think highly of yourself, but is it really so hard to believe that someone would find you charming?”

Martin seriously doubts that anyone has found him charming in his life. Cute, maybe, but charming? No.

“Why…” Martin begins, but he shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter. What about Jon?”

“What about him?”

“Is he in danger?”

“Almost certainly,” Elias smiles, “but he’s survived worse. You’ll just have to trust me.”

Martin starts laughing. “You— you cannot expect me to trust you, after you trapped all of us here, after you let Sasha get killed— for God’s sake, you admitted to murdering two people! And now! I’m getting monster powers because of you.”

Elias rolls his eyes. “Martin. Don’t start lying to yourself now. I gave you the push, but you embraced the Eye on your own.” He places his hand on Martin’s shoulder, his thumb resting against Martin’s neck in a possessive way that makes Martin’s heart skip a beat. “Your need to know more hasn’t been as fervent as Jon’s, but it’s there. You tell yourself it’s to help Jon, but really, it’s all you.”

Martin finds himself unable to move away, despite how much he wants to, almost hypnotized as Elias moves his hand up to cup Martin’s cheek. His breath catches in his throat. He has no idea the last time he was this close to someone, and even on his loneliest nights, he never thought Elias would be the next person to touch him like this.

Martin has no way of knowing if Elias is actually telling the truth, or if he’s just trying to manipulate him. Probably a bit of both, he thinks.

“I just don’t know how you can keep letting Jon get hurt,” Martin says, trying to push on like Elias is not tenderly cradling his face, “I mean, he’s your archivist, whatever that means. I’d think out of all of us, he’s the one you’d care what happens to.”

Elias sighs. “I don’t like it much either, but that’s how these things go. It’s necessary for Jon to grow into his potential.”

“So, what?” Martin stares at Elias defiantly, “You’re just going to leave us in the dark? Let us get killed? Do you care at all?”

Elias strokes Martin’s cheek with his thumb, and Martin shivers. “I am sorry about Sasha,” he says quietly, “I didn’t want that to happen to her.”

And Martin, God help him, believes Elias. Maybe that’s why he still doesn’t pull away when Elias’s other hand comes to rest at Martin’s hip, when he leans in to press his lips to Martin’s. Martin freezes as Elias kisses him, but Elias doesn’t seem bothered that Martin isn’t responding.

“What are you doing,” Martin breathes as Elias pulls away briefly.

“I thought that was obvious,” Elias quips, and he settles into Martin’s lap, straddling him. Martin makes a surprised noise, but he doesn’t push him away.

“Why, then?” Martin asks, looking at Elias warily.

Elias squeezes his hip. “Because you’re mine,” he says with a predatory glint to his eyes. Martin’s blood runs cold, and now he tries to push Elias away, but Elias’s grip on him tightens, and Martin can’t get the leverage he needs. “The others may also be tied to me, but none of them have embraced their roles like you have. It has been truly a pleasure to watch you come into your own over the years.”

Martin looks away, his eyes burning. He thinks about his younger self, when he started at the Institute. He had been absolutely terrified of Elias and the way he seemed to see right through him, but also because he thought Elias was gorgeous. He still does, he supposes, especially with Elias so close to him. They’re so far beyond that now; Martin wishes Elias was just a normal, intimidatingly handsome boss. Elias brushes one of Martin’s curls behind his ear before leaning in to whisper in it.

“Do you want to know what I think? Being trapped working at the Institute doesn’t upset you as much as you think it should. Where else would you go? You’ve worked here your entire adult life, and few places will be as open to your lack of formal qualifications. You want to be angry like Tim, but you’re actually relieved. For the first time, you’re not worried about losing your job. You hate the way reading statements makes you feel, but you love feeling useful. For Jon,” he nibbles on Martin’s earlobe, making Martin gasp, “And for me.”

It’s horrible, but what’s more horrible is how Martin doesn’t want Elias to stop. He doesn’t want Elias to stop touching him; he doesn’t want Elias to stop telling him all the awful things about himself Martin usually buries deep within.

Elias grips Martin’s chin and forces him to look him in his grey eyes. Eyes that are unusually warm, and Martin’s face is so hot that he’s sure Elias can feel it.

“Oh, look at you,” Elias croons, “You’re lovely.” And that is finally too much for Martin; it feels like Elias is mocking him, there’s no way he can be sincere.

“Stop,” Martin says, and it feels far too much like begging for mercy. Elias frowns.

“Alright,” he says, “But I do mean it, you know. You are lovely like this.”

“Get off me,” Martin says, and he tries to make his voice sound as commanding as possible, but it comes out breathy and weak.

“Is that what you want? Really?” Elias asks, idly running his hand up Martin’s flank.

No, Martin’s treacherous brain says, and Martin desperately tries to remind himself that the man sitting in his lap is a murderer. Elias grins like he heard that, and hell, maybe he did; Martin doesn’t know how his powers work. Martin doesn’t know what he wants at this point, clearly, only that the weight of Elias in his lap shouldn’t be as comforting as it is.

Elias presses one more chaste kiss to his lips before climbing off Martin with a contented sigh.

“Well,” he says, “I think this development is worthy of celebration, don’t you?” Martin stares at him, slack-jawed as he continues. “Would you like to get dinner tonight?”

Martin knows he should say no, should tell Elias to fuck off, and he should tell Elias off for kissing him and touching him like that on top of everything else, but. It’s an opportunity to get Elias alone and maybe get some answers out of him for once, and Martin can’t pass that up. He knows that’s giving into the Eye even more, and he can already hear Elias’s smug voice telling him just that, but he can’t keep living like this, constantly in the dark, not knowing what’s going on or if Jon has been kidnapped again. Martin’s going to get a stress ulcer at this rate. And well, if it’s true that there’s no way out of this for him, then at the very least he’s going to use this to help the others as much as he can. (Martin ignores the way he can still feel the ghost of Elias’s lips on his own, or how he doesn’t actually hate that Elias had kissed him.)

Martin shrugs. “Sure, if you’re paying,” he says, and he doesn’t miss the way Elias gives a genuine laugh at that. Elias acting so openly… fond of him will take some getting used to, but as they walk to the restaurant Elias has chosen, Martin finds himself thinking of ways to exploit that affection.

#tma #the magnus archives #martinelias #martin blackwood #elias bouchard #tma fic #mine #my writing #backup archivist martin #don't @ me i just think they're neat

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backofthebookshelf · 4 years

Text

One of the nice things about the way the TMA fandom has reached full large-fandom levels of toxicity is that I no longer care if people get mad at me for my opinions on characters! So, some Georgie meta.

(Because fandom is and always has been Like That, I do feel the need to clarify here that I love Georgie, she's one of my favorite characters, characters are more interesting because of their flaws, and I have no investment in the idea that women or female characters are inherently better or more emotionally competent than men or male characters. If I talk a lot about her relationship with Jon, it's because Jon is our point of view character and also the person she interacts with the most. Also, this rambles, sorry.)

I've been thinking about the Season 4 Jon Trauma post and how much I liked the way it talked about Georgie, and it's convinced me that if Georgie could feel fear, she's the one who'd be most afraid of Jon out of all of them. She's the one protagonist we have whose only interaction with the powers has been as a direct victim of them. She doesn't know what they feel like from the inside, like Jon and Melanie; she doesn't know what they're like when they're someone you love, like Basira; she doesn't even know what they're like as petty middle management, like Martin and Tim. What she knows is that one time a monster ate her (only) friend and traumatized her so badly she spent a year in a suicidal depression.

And now her ex - and yes, Jon and Georgie have a remarkably comfortable relationship in the beginning of season three, but they're still exes and they broke up for reasons, even if we don't know exactly what they are - has turned up on her doorstep, shaking and possibly bloody, with nowhere else to go and no access to his home. He's clearly lying about what's going on. He repeatedly violates her house rules. And then he tells her that he's turning into one of those same kinds of monsters that traumatized her and ate her friend. It's clearly enough to override any remaining affection she had for him, and by any definition he has now positioned himself as a trigger.

(Through no fault of his own: the only real response he has to Georgie's statement is "I can't believe you didn't tell me." She's the one who assumes that he Knew, somehow, that she also had a statement; she's the one who suggests he had alternatives. Both suggestions are plausible but we don't actually know for certain that either are true.)

But Georgie isn't afraid of Jon because Georgie can't be afraid -at least, according to her. I'm not sure how much I believe this in the grand scheme of things; it seems like an extremely unlikely mechanism for one of the fears to have. It seems much more likely to me that she's just never met anything as terrifying as that encounter was, and her subjective sense of fear has been massively recalibrated. In which case not only meeting but having hosted in your home another monster who self-describes as similar to the one that was so terrifying that literal threats to your life are no longer distressing would...probably ping. But she's conceptualized herself as a person who doesn't feel fear; it's even possible that was part of her recovery, identifying this as a possible benefit of what would otherwise have been a universally terrible, soul-breaking experience. She looked existential terror in the face and survived, and came out of it a person who cannot be afraid of anything left on this earth. That's kind of a superhero origin story, and I can't blame her for it. I think anyone with a mental illness has at least tried to find ways in which their suffering has made them a better, stronger person.

But whether she's suppressing and rationalizing away any fear she feels or she genuinely doesn't feel any of it, she does frequently behave as though her lack of fear gives her a more objective view of the situation than anyone else. I don't believe she actually uses the word "just," but it drips from her every interaction with Jon after Dead Woman Walking. Why doesn't he just stop reading the statements? Why doesn't he just quit? And, in Zombie, I honestly can't interpret her reaction to Jon when he wakes up from his coma as anything other than, Why doesn't he just die? If he hates being this so much, if he really doesn't want to be a monster, why doesn't he just die?

I really would like to think that it goes without saying that this is, at the very least, a massive failure of empathy, but she's so explicit about it and fandom spent so much time basically agreeing with her that apparently it doesn't. Not only is Georgie not afraid of the situation, but (and this is the part that makes me wonder if she's not rationalizing, rather than being supernaturally unable to feel fear) she can't possibly fathom how afraid everyone else is, and she never tries. She persists in treating the whole awful situation, as @findingfeather's post says, like this is a mundane problem with people who are refusing to help themselves, rather than a supernatural trap that has been specifically built to be inescapable.

Now, let me be clear, even if she were talking to, say, a drug addict who nearly killed themselves because they were in denial about how much of a problem they had, her attitude would be unforgivable. But in this case Jon had no choice in whether or not to become addicted to statements; it was done to him in such a way that he didn't notice it was happening until withdrawal was already incapacitating. He also didn't have the option to leave, as Tim's extended vacation made clear. And, on top of all of that, the whole reason he was in a coma in the first place was that he was trying to save the world. (Neither he nor she knows at this point that he was doing nothing of the kind, so that's really not relevant.) And - look, when Jon came to her after the end of season two, he was asking for help. When he rejected the kind of help that she offered it was because he knew it didn't apply to the problems he actually had, but she treats that like it's his problem, which is something like offering a leg splint to a person bleeding out from a gunshot wound and getting offended when they tell you that won't work. He was very clear that what was happening scared him and he didn't know what to do about it, and her only suggestion was "walk away," which he literally could not do, for multiple reasons.

She's lucky Jon has pretty much precisely zero self-worth at this point, because anyone else would have cut her off completely for behaving like a fucking asshole.

I say "she's lucky" because frankly, even though she says that she wants nothing more to do with him, she turns up at least twice in the Institute after that, with the excuse that she's picking up Melanie to take her to therapy. I don't know about you, but I have never once gone to someone's workplace to pick them up and gone snooping around inside, and no matter how fascinatingly weird that workplace is, I definitely can't imagine doing so when I know that workplace also contains a person I have definitely decided I never want to speak to again. She goes into the Archives, for Christ's sake, and she listens outside Jon's office door for long enough to catch a bit of the recording before letting herself in (so it's very clear she knows who's in there).

Now I'm not trying to paint her as a monster here; Georgie would hardly be the first person to have second thoughts about cutting off someone they still care about, or to break that boundary that they set themselves when they realize they do still want to know how that person is doing. But the fact is that she positions herself as having the moral high ground in every single discussion they have and that's just not true. She is not literally a supernatural monster, true, but if season four did anything with the concept of monsters it was breaking down the difference between "supernaturally driven no-longer-human" and "person capable of caring and empathy." (That's a whole different meta, though, one that I will get around to someday.) Not that Jon is any better, in that encounter specifically, at dealing with a complicated and contentious relationship - he deliberately goads her, even if he doesn't use compulsion. But that's the thing, they're both exes who have had a falling out and aren't handling it very well. Neither of them is in the right.

All of which makes me really wonder what her relationship with Melanie is actually like. We don't actually see hardly any of it directly, and of what we do, well, Melanie sounds like she's still high on painkillers, so it's hard to take that as an indication of anything. But given that people (who are not intentionally trying to manipulate those around them) tend to, y'know, be fundamentally the same person in their various relationships, though it may manifest in different ways, we can probably make some guesses.

I have always been bothered by, and I really can't ignore, the fact that they were getting together at the same time that Melanie was doing what Georgie has been demanding of Jon since season three: she did whatever it took to get out. I have to wonder if Georgie knows about the nonconsensual surgery part of Melanie's process of getting out, and if she does, if she understands how vital it was. I certainly wouldn't be surprised, if she does know, that she's managed to compartmentalize it: Jon inflicted this terrible trauma on Melanie, Melanie escaped the entity that took her over. (Subconscious implication: Jon is a monster; Melanie is better than him.) I would be very surprised if Georgie is interested at all in the fine distinctions between entities; she's shown no interest in learning what is actually happening to anyone in this situation beyond "it's bad and they should get out of it." But it's relevant, because by the time Melanie makes the decision to blind herself, she's in a much different position than Jon, enslaved by an entity but not consumed by one. She herself admitted to Jon that she would never have voluntarily escaped from the Slaughter.

And given how difficult Melanie finds it to talk about any of this - you can hear her dragging the words out from behind her teeth in her conversation with Jon in Flesh, truly incredible acting by Lydia Nicholas, my god - if Georgie doesn't want to hear it? I can't imagine Melanie insisting. Yes, Melanie is going to therapy, but let me tell you, I've been going to therapy for twelve years now and I have yet to have several of the important conversations my therapists have insisted I have. That shit is hard. But I can imagine a scenario where, having been told by her therapist (who, remember, doesn't have the first idea what Melanie is actually going through, because Melanie isn't telling her about the supernatural so she has to leave out a lot of really relevant details) that she ought to tell her friend/potential girlfriend/new girlfriend about these things, Melanie attempts to bring it up, Georgie says kind and reassuring things and refuses to let her clarify any of the details, and Melanie gives up in relief, thinking, well, I tried. Super valid all around, but it doesn't mean that Georgie has any clearer picture of what Melanie's traumas actually look like, never mind Jon's. There's no world in which I can imagine Georgie actually internalizing the idea that Melanie loved the Slaughter when it had her, and she would gladly have stayed with it if Jon and Basira hadn't intervened.

In Georgie's eyes, Melanie is being a Good Victim. She was hurt but she was strong; she fought it until she won; now she's going to therapy and setting boundaries and trying to heal. She got away.

(Except, of course, she didn't, because as of The Eye Opens no one has gotten away, because this is the entire world now. We have no idea how this has affected Melanie. Presumably she's out of reach of the Eye, given that Jon can't see her or Georgie (and there's some evidence on the side of Georgie's encounter genuinely having stripped her of fear, if she's also invisible to the Eye), but she spent a long time under the influence of the Slaughter. It had her firmly enough that her attacking Jon was enough to give him his Slaughter scar. If nothing else, Melanie certainly hasn't had her fear removed, and talk about a situation bound to retraumatize someone who had such a visceral revulsion to being trapped that Elias chose it as his mechanism of control over her. Melanie probably doesn't look like a Good Victim any more, and I'd bet her relationship with Georgie is suffering some serious strain because of it.)

We don't know when exactly Melanie and Georgie got together; the last time one of them mentions the other is, I'm pretty sure, when Georgie tells Jon that Melanie is back from India. So we know that Georgie and Melanie were friends; that's good, that's a good foundation for a romantic relationship. At the very least they know each other, they have some idea of what to expect. I'd be surprised if they were dating during that season 3/4 hiatus period, though, or frankly any time before Melanie's surgery, just because Melanie seems much too consumed with rage to have room for any other emotions, and I can't imagine Georgie putting up with that.

What seems way more likely to me is this: Melanie comes back from India, arranges to meet Georgie for drinks. Probably they don't talk about anything serious; possibly they talk about Jon, honestly, since we know Melanie was looking for him and Georgie talked to him about Melanie, but very likely in the same "stuck-up pompous ass" way that Melanie talks about Jon in early seasons. (I bet Melanie's roasts are amazing.) Shortly after that Melanie joins the Magnus Institute and then, very likely, either she never tells Georgie about it and therefore they don't talk much or she does tell Georgie about it and Georgie tells her that place is bad news and she won't have anything to do with it and they don't talk at all, until, whichever way that went, the Unknowing happens and Tim dies and Jon winds up in a coma and everything goes to shit. We know Georgie visits Jon in the hospital; we don't know if Melanie does, but frankly it seems unlikely. If they did cross paths during this time, it was probably very brief and superficial. Then: the surgery, and Melanie's recovery.

I'll be honest, I have a hard time imagining Melanie deciding on her own that she should go to therapy. It's possible Basira suggested it, but it really does sound like a Georgie thing to do. So I picture something like this: from the way Basira talks it sounds like they've all been pretty much living in the Archives for a while, and on top of that everyone in the Archives has just badly violated Melanie's trust, so Melanie pulls up her Facebook DMs and talks to the only other person she has. You were right, she says, this place is terrible, I can't handle it, there's no one here I can trust and I'm so alone. And Georgie, who is generous with help and advice (so long as it's accepted) and (like anyone) weak to being told she was right about something, starts talking to her. We know Georgie's got good boundaries, and we know she doesn't want to hear details about what's going on in the Institute, so I can see her saying, I can talk to you, I would love to talk to you, but not about this. For that you need a therapist.

So Melanie gets a therapist, and the prospect of going out amongst the monsters they know are stalking the Institute without that protective shield of rage (never mind the emotional vulnerability of going to therapy in the first place) makes public transit an unthinkable option, so she asks Georgie to take her, and she does, and she keeps taking her to therapy, which is, as far as we know, the only time Melanie leaves the Archives in season four, until she blinds herself and escapes it completely.

And so they have this relationship that's built up almost entirely around Melanie's trauma - with a foundation of friendship, certainly, so I do think that if they are willing to work through it they could make it a working, healthy relationship, but (and again this isn't stated in canon but is my speculation based on what we know about these characters) it is a romantic relationship that's built around the process of Melanie recovering from multiple traumas. Ones that we know that Georgie a) doesn't know many details about, and b) more importantly, refuses to know any details about. Now, I have no experience with romantic relationships and serious trauma; I might be wildly off base here. But. I know that boundaries are important and I know that trust is also important. And if Georgie is holding similar boundaries with Melanie that she has with Jon (and, as I went into excruciating detail about earlier, she has very solid emotional reasons to protect herself with those boundaries), that's drawing a hard line around what's basically the past two to three years of Melanie's life, and undeniably both the worst and most important things that have ever happened to her. That seems...difficult to manage in the long term.

(This is a bit more of a stretch, more of the germ of a fic idea than an argument I'm prepared to defend, but I also would not be surprised if Georgie told Melanie that she wouldn't date her while she was still working at the Institute. That's a very reasonable boundary, and it's good motivation - and probably healthy motivation, I do like the idea that Melanie had something to reach toward in escaping the Institute, not just the desperate flight from - but it's also something of an ultimatum. Which is not inherently bad, but it is the kind of thing that can fester, given other problems.)

Now it's entirely possible that Georgie isn't that internally consistent. People aren't! (See: Basira's attitude toward Daisy vs her attitude toward Jon in season four.) Maybe she's more flexible about being willing to listen to Melanie, maybe she's starting to understand some of what was happening and how genuinely impossible a situation it really was. But that has to be a struggle for her, too; it's not a perfect, sweet, unconditionally good situation that teaches you that you've been unfair to the point of cruelty to someone you used to care about. And by the time the apocalypse rolls around, Melanie is, if she's lucky, just barely able to say she's healed from the plain physical trauma of blinding, never mind all the other baggage. They've got to be having a rough fucking time of it, at the very least, even if you assume that they're suddenly both the kind of people who will sit still and listen supportively and talk honestly about their own messy and complicated emotions, when neither of them have been that kind of person before.

(Another disclaimer because Fandom Is Like That: This is in no way a condemnation of or argument against fluffy What the Girlfriends fic; fic is for making fluffy things that you want to happen to your faves, or building fluffy content that you desperately need for whatever reason. Gods know there are plenty of unhealthy parts of Jon and Martin's relationship that I ignore in most of my fluffy fic. This is me attempting to work through my thoughts and feelings about the relationship I see in canon in the hopes of actually being able to write some fic about these girls myself someday, because I personally can't write fic until I understand canon, and so much of them happens offscreen because they're not main characters, and they're written with such depth and complexity that you can't just slap a stereotype on them and call it good. Which is awesome! But it means I gotta do the work, and I post it because a) it's work, and this is fandom, and I want validation; and b) I'm hoping other people have insights that might also help me clarify my thinking.)

#the magnus archives #tma #georgie barker #jonathan sims #melanie king #long post #real fuckin' long post #sorry #it's a meta party #cw suicide #cw addiction

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