5 acts sign-up post
5 acts meme rules
+ Post a list of your five favorite acts/kinks to read about. Check out this list if you need some inspiration. At the bottom of your post, add what fandoms/pairings you're interested in.
+ Read other people's lists; the master list of lists is here.
+ Post comment-fic based off of other people's interests.
( my sign-up's under the cut )
+ Post a list of your five favorite acts/kinks to read about. Check out this list if you need some inspiration. At the bottom of your post, add what fandoms/pairings you're interested in.
+ Read other people's lists; the master list of lists is here.
+ Post comment-fic based off of other people's interests.
( my sign-up's under the cut )
He comes every day.
Every time, you expect him to - to do something. Punch you in the face, kick you against a wall, hurt you someway because it’s what he should be doing and nothing less than what you deserve and you’d barely feel it.
Instead he just sits there looking at you as if he’ll have some question answered if he does it long enough, and then he leaves. He never touches you once. You don’t know if you should be relieved or worried.
Every time he locks the door behind him. You know you’re no better than a hostage, again, but this time it seems like the best thing that’s ever happened to you.
--
You hear people talking in the room next to yours - the wall is thin. Sometimes they talk about Jon. They say that he should be dead, that half of the Night’s Watch stabbed him in the back, that no one knows how he survived it. And no one is ever going to question his commanding again. You feel like vomiting (you know enough about the Red Wedding, you weren’t spared the details when you were still at the Dreadfort) but you don’t, because when you heard about Robb’s death you did and no one let you wash your clothes after, and you won’t do that now.
--
“Why?” you ask him one day, not much later. You don’t know where you found it in yourself to do it - maybe it’s the same place that made you jump with Jeyne rather than go back.
“Why what?”
“Why are you doing nothing? I was the reason Robb lost the war, I was the one who forced your brothers to flee, I - why aren’t you?”
Jon sighs, stands up, moves closer to you. “If you had known that taking Winterfell would have lost him the war that way, would you have done it?”
“No,” you answer. You know you wouldn’t have.
“I’m not doing anything because I like to think that I knew my brother, and I think that he would have done the same. He’d have killed you first thing after capturing you, and he wouldn’t have done that easily, but if he saw you right now, I think he couldn’t bring himself to. And for what concerns me, I’ve seen enough heads rolling to last me for my entire life.”
“But - you hated me. You’d have all the reasons. And he’d have had them, too, and - you can’t - you can’t just -”
“I think you’re doing a good job of punishing yourself on your own,” Jon replies, and you know you shouldn’t feel grateful, you know that your first instinct shouldn’t be throwing yourself at this feet and beg him to do anything he wants - you can’t even remember why you ever disliked him so much before, but you force yourself to stay still.
And then you realize what he has just said (Robb couldn’t bring himself to) and you know that you’re crying, and you don’t even try to stop yourself. It’s not as if you have much dignity to spare.
“I should have died with him,” you know you say at some point, and you don’t know that Jon is right in front of you until a shadow falls over your hands.
You hold your breath as he reaches out with a hand covered in burn scars and wipes salt from the side of your face with its back.
“That’s what I tell myself every day,” he says quietly, and then he leaves and locks the door and you don’t know why he’d ever do that but just thinking about how nice it had felt makes you start crying all over again.
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