#Dany had every right to snark back
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@snowlealee You know this moron and others think Dany just “burns alive” anyone who doesn’t bend the knee to her. But I wonder… what do they think Jon and Sansa would do to any Northern lord who didn’t bend the knee to them? Hmm? After all… didn’t Sansa want to punish Alys Karstark and Ned Umber for their fathers’ betrayal? Oh and Dany gave Randyll and Dickon Tarly the opportunity to bend the knee and keep their lands and titles… despite the fact that they betrayed her ally Olenna Tyrell. Would Jon and Sansa have given Harold Karstark and Smalljon Umber the chance to bend the knee and keep their titles or refuse and die? Or would they have simply executed them for treason? I think the latter is more likely. And like I said this scene was written to make Sansa look like such “a smart political genius” who understand armies need to be fed, despite the fact Dany is a Queen and a military leader who would obviously know that she has to keep her people fed. Hell, in the books she is thinking about keeping her people from starving. But you and I both know Show Sansa is D&D’s little pet and she has to be smarter than everyone so to do that, they dumb everybody else down and have Sansa point out the obvious.
Stark Stans like that guy seem to think the North was some sort of utopia before the Targaryens “colonized” it. Mmm… nope. First the Starks’ ancestors slaughtered the natives, the Children, and actually colonized the land. Then the Starks conquered the North, not by being nice and generous, but by wiping out rival kings and their bloodlines and taking the daughters as “prizes”. And then there’s what they did to the Warg King and his daughters. The Starks have good members but they were also ruthless and that’s how they became the Kings of the North. Not by “consent of the governed” like Show Stark stans and anti Targaryens seem to think. Not to mention the North actually benefited from the Targaryens because they no longer had to worry about Southern invasions now that they were part of a united country. And in the winters they could ask for food and supplies. Also the Targaryens allowed them to keep to themselves. Keep to their religion and culture and traditions. They did however abolish the First Night because that was allowing lords to rape common women on their wedding nights.
And as for the “implied threat”… Sansa was not asking a legitimate question. She was simply making it clear how unhappy she was having “foreigners and outsiders” in her home and acting like they’re gonna be a burden and not the only thing that will save them from certain death. Dany never made any threats. She simply snarked back at the rude host. Aren’t guests supposed to be treated with respect?
I just learned a new (well new for me) take about that dumb show Sansa and Dany scene with the “What do dragons eat” bs. This guy thinks Sansa was asking a legitimate question and not being a rude host while Dany is a terrible diplomat who is making an implied threat because Sansa isn’t kissing her boots. And that Dany isn’t there out of the goodness of her heart but because she’s scared and knows that the Others will kill her if they get past the North. And this moron, they were on Instagram, thinks Sansa is just a good “leader” who wants the North free from “Targaryen tyranny” because of the ratio of 6 out of 17 Targaryen rulers being “mad” (obviously this person didn’t read the lore). Sansa stans and Dany antis keep inventing new moronic ludicrous ways to defend their fave and shit on Dany. Sansa, and of course this is just bad writing to make Sansa look “smart”, should have known Jon was coming home with more people. And Dany, as a leader and ruler, would have known to bring her own food for her army. But of course D&D want Sansa to “look smarter than everyone” by having her be a rude whiny host and start a cat fight with the other powerful woman.
Yeah, I think Instagram!Stansa needs to rewatch that scene.
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There we go! :) So... I want to know what about this delivery was genuine? Because all I'm seeing is snark. I don't even have to go into "subtle facial expressions" and mIcRoaGgReSsIOnS ;) But let's continue!
Yes, Dany, the "terrible diplomat". Didn't the Unsullied choose to follow her from Astapor to Westeros after she freed them? Now, I know Dany antis love to argue, "They dIdN'T hAvE anYwHeRe eLsE tO gOoO oR anY oThEr cArEeR oPTIoNs sO iS iT rEaLLy FrEeDoM?" Yes, yes it is, but that's a post covered by other people better than I. Also, then how do you explain smallfolk and their "career options"? And at least she was able to convince Highgarden, Dorne, and the Yara's faction of the Iron Islands onto her side and all on her own steam. Highgarden and Dorne may have joined Dany looking for revenge against the Lannister regime but Dany had honest-to-god face-to-face conversations with those leaders that won them over. And Dany was able to win Yara over on discussion alone, Yara -- a famously stubborn Iron Islander -- who stayed loyal to Dany to the end. Sansa? The Vale's forces came to the Starks' aid thanks to Littlefinger. And middleman Littlefinger arranged that thanks to his perverted attraction to Sansa because of her resemblance to her Tully mother. Littlefinger even takes credit for that in his one scene with Jon in 7x02. Sansa successfully manages to piss off House Mormont and House Glover on the Northern tour in 6x07 before shitting on the one person (Davos) who was able to convince the only Northerners onto their side on-screen. Oh wait, oh wait, yes, Lord Royce decided the Vale forces came "for [Sansa]" in 7x05 while he, Lord Glover and the Northern lords had that casually treasonous conversation about overthrowing Jon for Sansa. Jon, their king, whom they elected only six episodes earlier. (Hey hey, remember when Lord Glover was all like: "House Glover will stand behind House Stark as we have for a thousand years. And I will stand behind Jon Snow... THE KING IN THE NORTH!" The North remembers, hey?)
And Sansa just listens and watches this proposed coup against her beloved brother with a smile before she calls them very kind (diplomacy!!!) and says Jon is doing what he thinks is best (getting crucial help against an ever encroaching extinction level event but agree to disagree, right Jon?) ....before Arya emerges from the shadows and is all like, "Diplomacy? Bullshit. You just want them on your side in case Jon doesn't come back."
And the script verifies ✅ And yeah, feeding armies -- not sure how Stansas think Dany's armies and dragons were fed on the journey there... I think Sansa may have a bit of a memory problem because Jon specifically told Sansa before he left for Dragonstone in 7x02:
We know that dragonglass can destroy both White Walkers and their army. We need to mine it and turn it into weapons. But more importantly, we need allies. The Night King's army grows larger by the day. We can't defeat them on our own. We don't have the numbers. Daenerys has her own army, and she has dragonfire. I need to try and persuade her to fight with us. Ser Davos and I will ride for White Harbor tomorrow, then sail for Dragonstone.
Yet Sansa acts like Dany and her armies' arrival is:
And yet the Stansa response to this is...
As for Dany coming North to fight the Others, yeah, she made that vow even before Jon gave her his fealty. As soon as Dany saw the Night King and the army of the dead were real, and as soon as Jon woke up (whom she searched and waited for after he fell below the ice surrounded by wights), Dany vowed to defeat the Night King and his army of the dead. She required nothing of Jon and asked nothing of Jon. Dany was determined to eliminate this threat from the world.
I will argue from a practical standpoint that the smart thing for Dany to do (and Jon and... any leader including Sansa) would probably be to help fight the Others before they start decimating Westeros. The army of the dead would be at its smallest at that point and the living would have its best chance before the AotD started adding corpses to its ranks as it killed its way through the continent. Even if Dany (or Euron) went back to Essos or their island (and I don't know if D&D considered this), water freezes like it did in 7x06 (...D&D). It'd take a while for the Narrow Sea to freeze, I'd imagine, I don't know the extent of the Night King's powers (I don't know if D&D really cared...) but if D&D (or GRRM) wanted.... yeah. This was one of my arguments against the Jonsas' popular Pol!Jon reasoning that, "Jon only sexed Dany up to keep her on side to fight the Night King! Otherwise, her distracted thirst!bot tyrant brain would go right back to fighting Cersei! Jon's dick is the only thing that can keep her under control!!1" (Because it's okay for Sansa to be concerned about Cersei in 7x01 but not Dany, no no no, even though Dany is actively engaged in war with Cersei...) However, when did Dany ever show fear at the prospect of fighting them? And would that at all be unreasonable? THEY'RE ZOMBIES. THEY'RE A GIANT ARMY OF ICE ZOMBIES CAPABLE OF ENDING HUMAN EXISTENCE. IT'S SMART TO BE AFRAID!
And what did Ned say about bravery and being afraid? Further, Dany was the one fighting them out there! She wasn't the one, hiding in the crypts, bitching about the woman, flying on dragonback, literally tackling the Night King! Dany was the one f i g h t i n g!
Dany has own non-Jon reasons to fight the Night King. Practicality, the Night King killed her baby, and Westeros is the country she wants to rule.
Speaking of Westeros, I don't imagine Dany would be comfortable leaving Westeros to that horrible, nightmarish fate. This is the country she wants to better, and to leave in a better place. She can't do that with the Night King turning her citizens into zombies. Zombies suck for quality of life. Finally, as for Targaryen "tyranny", I'd love to know where they pulled their "mad Targaryen/rulers" numbers from. I'd also love to know what they think of the Starks' own history too, their wars against the Children of the Forest, and how they feel about Westeros's feudalism in general which the Starks are very much a part of :) Maybe it needs reminding that Sansa is a feudal leader. Sansa has demanded House Glover and House Mormont honour their original oaths of fealty to House Stark despite House Glover and House Mormont experiencing significant personal losses in the Red Wedding thanks to Robb breaking his oath to House Frey. Despite House Stark losing the North and it returning to the Iron Throne under the Lannister regime. Sansa has also demanded Jon force the wildling refugees he helped save to fight for Winterfell. The 5,000 homeless wildling refugees on the run from the Night King, 3,000 of whom are children and old people. Funny how that is virtually never brought up, isn't it? I wonder how Skagosi feel about House Stark.
#anti stansas#anti sansa stark#anti got#anti d&d#anti dany bs#i am so tired of people claiming Sansa was just asking a legitimate question#and not being a rude whiny host#Dany had every right to snark back
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'Robert, I beg of you,” Ned pleaded, “hear what you are saying. You are talking of murdering a child.” “The whore is pregnant!” The king’s fist slammed down on the council table loud as a thunderclap.
We are barely into the chapter and Robert is already using gendered slurs. On a fourteen year old girl at that. God I absolutely hate him. Cersei kill him already.
'On the Trident, Ser Barristan here cut down a dozen good men, Robert’s friends and mine. When they brought him to us, grievously wounded and near death, Roose Bolton urged us to cut his throat, but your brother said, ‘I will not kill a man for loyalty, nor for fighting well,’ and sent his own maester to tend Ser Barristan’s wounds.” He gave the king a long cool look. “Would that man were here today.” Robert had shame enough to blush.' … 'Robert purpled. “No more, Ned,” he warned, pointing. “Not another word. Have you forgotten who is king here?” “No, Your Grace,” Ned replied. “Have you?'
Ned completely tears him apart with cold snark and I love it. It’s moments like these I remember why I came to like Ned in the first place. He makes mistakes, massive ones at that, and he’s flawed, and I absolutely love to critique him, but I do appreciate him. A lot.
'Grand Maester Pycelle cleared his throat, a process that seemed to take some minutes. “My order serves the realm, not the ruler. Once I counseled King Aerys as loyally as I counsel King Robert now, so I bear this girl child of his no ill will. Yet I ask you this—should war come again, how many soldiers will die? How many towns will burn? How many children will be ripped from their mothers to perish on the end of a spear?” He stroked his luxuriant white beard, infinitely sad, infinitely weary. “Is it not wiser, even kinder, that Daenerys Targaryen should die now so that tens of thousands might live?'
Of all the people in the council it’s actually this guy who makes a good point. Yes Dany is largely innocent now but in the future she will kill an innocent person to birth three weapons of mass destruction and use them to create havoc. She’s the fire threat who will have the means to destroy the world and before she’s stopped, she will kill tens of thousands if likely not more. This is a dilemma and there are no right answers.
I wish him every success.” Ned unfastened the heavy clasp that clutched at the folds of his cloak, the ornate silver hand that was his badge of office. He laid it on the table in front of the king, saddened by the memory of the man who had pinned it on him, the friend he had loved. “I thought you a better man than this, Robert. I thought we had made a nobler king. Robert’s face was purple. “Out,” he croaked, choking on his rage. “Out, damn you, I’m done with you. What are you waiting for? Go, run back to Winterfell. And make certain I never look on your face again, or I swear, I’ll have your head on a spike!'
I am not gonna lie. This scene here sounds like a break up.
'And when you have it, what then? Some secrets are safer kept hidden. Some secrets are too dangerous to share, even with those you love and trust. Ned slid the dagger that Catelyn had brought him out of the sheath on his belt. The Imp’s knife. Why would the dwarf want Bran dead? To silence him, surely. Another secret, or only a different strand of the same web?'
The first lines are very interesting. It sounds as if Ned has is own little secret that is too dangerous to share that should be kept a secret even from those you love and trust, And right after that he immediately thinks of Catelyn. Ned, what secret are you keeping from her?
'The first and last,” said Ned. “I’ve had my fill.” “When do you mean to return to Winterfell, my lord?” “As soon as I can. What concern is that of yours?”
So let me get this straight. You tell Vayon Poole to not speak of your plan to leave by ship to anyone because the castle is full of eyes and ears, but then you proceed to announce your plan to a man you said wasn’t trustworthy? I-i..
Never change, Ned. Never change.
Next chapter we are with the daughter of rivers and mother of wolves: Catelyn.
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Periwinkle
Hello! This is a sequel to This Fic! This is part of my Hallmark AU (which also has amazing fics written by @comfyswitcherblanketfort and @jaskierswolf) and this was written for @thewitcherbog’s June weddings event!
Geraskier, rated T, 1.2k words
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“I don’t think that shade of blue is a good idea,” Jaskier’s voice rang out through the dining room, “a periwinkle would work better. Be a dear and grab a sample, would you?”
The wedding planner pursed her lips and sent a pointed look to Yennefer and Renfri before turning on her heel and marching back out to her car. Renfri met Yennefer’s eye, a severe look on her face. Jaskier was there, at their wedding planning session, at Yennefer’s invitation. Renfri wasn’t sure exactly what the man had said to get himself invited or why Yennefer seemed to have such a soft spot for him, despite how much they snarked at each other, but if he kept trying to control their wedding, Renfri was going to strangle him.
Renfri had made a grand total of two suggestions, both immediately dismissed by Jaskier as he continued ordering their wedding planner about as if she was on his payroll. Of the three people in the room, the only one of them acting like a stereotypical bridezilla was the only one of them who wasn’t a bride.
“Do you need to be such a diva?”
Jaskier looked toward Renfri, surprise written all over his face, “I…”
Suddenly the happy go lucky man Renfri had grown accustomed to was gone, replaced with one whose face screamed sadness. “I need to go.”
Watching the man rush outside, Renfri heard Yennefer sigh beside her.
“What did I do? I’ve called him much worse things than a diva.”
A frown marring her face, Yennefer met Renfri’s gaze, “He’s… worried that Geralt hasn’t proposed to him because he’s famous.”
Oh, “And calling him a diva probably didn’t help.”
“No, but I don’t think planning our wedding for us was helping much either.”
Renfri looked back to the door, watching the wedding planner come in with the periwinkle tablecloth. It really was a lovely color.
-
He was a diva. The word rang through his mind, sharp and unpleasant. He had never wanted that, never wanted to be a diva, never wanted to be that guy. The famous guy that no one liked because he was too lost in his own fame. Jaskier had left the business for a lot of reasons, and that was a notable one. So, he had left and restarted somewhere quiet when he would never turn into that guy.
When, six months prior, a whole year after he had born himself anew, Priscilla had walked back into his life demanding answers and outing him as Dandelion, Jaskier had felt everything crash around him. Sure, there were people in town who knew who he was, but he had an unspoken agreement with them all that it wasn’t to be mentioned. Geralt didn’t know and that was what was important. Geralt’s quiet existence would never lend well to the world fame that came with Dandelion, and Jaskier wanted to spend his life with Geralt more than he had ever wanted anything.
Of course, it had been Geralt to answer the door, immediately assaulted by a whirlwind of Priscilla demanding Jaskier come out right that second and explain himself. She had understood why he left the business, had even helped him drop off the grid but he wasn’t supposed to ghost her too.
Up to that point, Geralt had mostly been in the dark about Jaskier’s past. He knew Jaskier was running from something, he knew that there were no scorned spouses or law enforcement looking for him, no children left without a father, and that was enough for Geralt. But suddenly Priscilla was there, rattling on about the tour and the fame and how Dandelion had become a giant mystery. Where had the young star disappeared to?
Geralt had taken everything in stride, accepting Jaskier’s past and Priscillas sudden appearance in their lives with grace and everything had been fine. At first, at least. But then Geralt began to withdraw. Not a lot, not enough that anyone else would be able to notice. But Jaskier noticed, and it was everything he had feared. It made perfect sense that Geralt would begin to worry about Jaskier’s life coming back, the media finding him, putting him back in the news, this time with his new life and family at his side. And of course, it would shed a new light on Jaskier as well, it would expose the man as a spoiled brat, a diva.
Jaskier was so lost in his thoughts, it wasn’t until he had already collided with the man that he realized Geralt was standing in front of him. And that Jaskier had made it home, the walk from the inn to their house only taking a few minutes, a few minutes that passed very quickly when Jaskier was so caught up in his own head.
Geralt’s brows were furrowed, his hands resting on Jaskier’s arms, “Are you okay?” His words were colored with concern and Jaskier felt his heart ache. Despite how less comfortable Geralt had clearly become with their relationship, he was still the most caring man Jaskier had ever met.
“I’m fine,” Jaskier pulled back, freeing himself from Geralt’s gentle grip.
“I thought you were going to be out with Yen all morning?”
Jaskier let out a humorless laugh, “They didn’t want me there.”
Reaching up, Geralt placed a hand on the side of Jaskier’s face, “Hey, what’s really going on?”
As their eyes met, Jaskier felt himself crumble, “It’s just hard, seeing them so happy.”
“Why is that hard?”
Jaskier’s voice was barely a whisper when he responded with a small, “Because we aren’t.”
Despite how quiet the words were, Geralt didn’t seem to have any trouble hearing them. He stared at Jaskier as if he had been slapped, shock written across every line of his face.
“I… don’t want you to be unhappy.”
“I don’t- no, I am happy. Or I was, before I noticed you weren’t.”
Suddenly, Jaskier found himself in Geralt’s arms, wrapped in a tight hug, “Jaskier I’m so happy with you. I never meant for you to think I wasn’t.”
“But… you’ve been so distant.”
“I was… worried I wasn’t enough. That you would want to go back.” All the other worries associated with that thought, that Jaskier would want to leave Geralt, their life they were building, were loud and clear to Jaskier, despite remaining unsaid.
“Geralt what I want is you and our family, more than anything else.”
Geralt pulled back enough to meet Jaskier’s eyes, “Were we being stupid?”
Laughing softly, Jaskier nodded, “Yeah, I think we were.”
-
Jaskier couldn’t help but smile contentedly as he spun in circles, safely wrapped in Geralt’s arms.
Yennefer and Renfri’s wedding had been nothing short of perfect. Small and intimate and fun. There wasn’t a thing that was traditional about it, it was the perfect representation of everything that the two had built together. Humming along with the song playing, Jaskier relished in the buzz under his skin. The whole day had been amazing and the romantic in him couldn’t help but enjoy being surrounded by so much love and happiness.
Also, the tablecloths were Jaskier’s favorite shade of periwinkle.
“Hey, Jask?” Geralt’s voice was barely a whisper, drawing Jaskier’s eyes to him.
“Yes, love?”
“Would you marry me?”
Jaskier cocked his head to the side, eyeing Geralt curiously, “Are you proposing?”
“Yes. Quietly, I don’t want to steal the moment.”
Jaskier couldn’t hold back his laugh before leaning in to kiss Geralt, “I would be honored to marry you. And we can tell everyone about it another day.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
-
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#the witcher#the witcher fanfiction#the witcher fandom#yenfri#yennefer of vengerberg#renfri of creyden#geraskier#geralt of rivia#jaskier
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being able to go toe to toe with dani was more enjoyable for august than he'd ever admit. for all the snark he lobbed her way, she could throw it right back in his face with ease, and that was his favorite form of entertainment. a brow raised as she dangled the promise of yet more lewd content over his head, tongue darting out to wet his lips. if she didn't have his full attention before, she sure had it now. "is that so?" every time he'd received a glimpse of her glorious body over text in the past, he couldn't help himself from pulling up to her place in a hurry, too entranced to resist, and that's exactly the effect she seemed to want. "and are you gonna answer the door, or you gonna leave me waiting on your doorstep with a hard on?" their weakness for each other went both ways— gus knew she wouldn't have been able to hold back when it came down to it. "respectfully, i'm sure you got a lot of horny bastards clogging up your contact list... that's not up for debate. i just don't think you've considered that, for every one of your little loverboys ready to blow in their pants the second you get your tits out, i've got just as many pretty girls breaking down my door begging for a turn with me. just something to keep in mind."
The filthy mention of the photo did nothing to surprise Dani. She knew what to expect from the man in front of her ‘cause there was no such thing as a topic off-limits during their arguments. She liked that, enjoyed being able to look for which buttons to push as meanly as she wanted to. “Block me? No, baby… the next time you get a picture of my tits at two in the morning, or a video of how pretty I look when I’m fingering myself,” He hadn’t received anything like that one yet, but she definitely planned on making it. Even if just to spite him before turning off her phone and going to sleep. “I want you to do exactly what you did last time.” There was a saccharine smile of superiority as she went on: “I want you to come to my place running… though maybe you should consider leaving your ego at home,” The suggestion was coated with fake sympathy, as if that same overconfident attitude wasn’t the one that got her wet and wanting every time. “Because there are plenty of contacts in my phone who’d jump at a chance like that, so instead of acting all offended and boring, maybe you should be thanking me for having your number saved in the first place, or for remembering your name—that’s certainly more than what you deserve.”
#{ august mueller — thread }#{ august vs. danielle }#musingmixtape#me too esp if it's the girl being mean to the guy like yasss get him
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41 and 45 please. Just can't get enough of your stories
first of all you're so sweet 🥺 second, I did these and I batched in another one for a longer story and the obligatory soft nightmare fic, so I hope that's okay :)
18. "I'm embarrassed." "Don't be." 41. "Is that my shirt?" "Is...is that okay?" 45. "Don't say anything. Just...just lay here with me."
cw for mentions of child abuse
~~~
The motel bed is empty when Dani drifts awake, feeling in the dark for the warm mass that indicates Jamie is sound asleep beside her. Instead, empty air and rumpled sheets greet her, and she frowns. Still lingering in that semi-sweet state of half-consciousness, somewhere between dream and reality, she registers the shadow of the bathroom light through the crack in the door, which stands slightly agape.
Ah.
She rolls over, tugging the duvet over her exposed arms and sparing a quick glance at the clock on the nightstand 3:27 a.m., it reads. Dani yawns and readjusts the pillow supporting her neck. The doctor had said it would help with the stiffness in her shoulders and upper back in the morning, said she had a tendency to sleep curled up like she was protecting herself. Unsurprising, she had thought at the time.
Long minutes pass, faint moonlight trickling through sheer curtains to adorn the carpeted floors with tigerstripes of silver and blue. Dani rolls over again, flipping onto her stomach, her arm coming to rest alongside her head. Jamie’s pillow remains vacant. Dani sighs.
The floor is bracing beneath her bare feet, and she recoils, suddenly regretting the decision to leave the relative warmth of the blankets. Steeling herself, she pads across the room. Dim light filters under the bathroom door, and she can make out muted noises from within.
“Hey,” Dani says quietly, giving the wood three light raps with her knuckles. “You okay?” The noises stop.
“’M fine,” Jamie’s voice comes muffled through the door. “Y’can go back to bed.”
Another night, maybe, Dani would have listened. Another time, perhaps, if she had not spent weeks, months, learning the intricacies and peculiarities of Jamie’s vocal pattern, Dani would have returned to the comfort of their queen bed and fallen back into a pleasant sleep. At another time, maybe, Dani would have ignored the hoarseness of Jamie’s voice, the sandpaper-rough scratch of the syllables against her throat, the subtle distress cloaked in a layer of false nonchalance.
Dani rests her forehead against the cool wood, the metal of the doorknob in one hand. “Can I come in?”
Silence, for a moment, then shuffling. The click of an unlatched lock. “Yeah.”
She inches the door open. Jamie sits on the floor of the bathtub, knees drawn up to her chest. Strands of brown hair are sweat-matted to her forehead, others sticking up haphazardly, streaked through with shaky finger lines. Grey eyes are red-rimmed and puffy, with a tired stare that wrenches at Dani’s heart.
“You got room in there for one more?” Dani says gently, crossing to crouch on the tile floor.
Jamie breathes shakily. “Sure.” She slides to make room for Dani, who sits cross-legged, her knees bent at a slightly awkward angle due to the nature of the tub. From this new perspective, she can see the piece of fabric balled tight between Jamie’s thighs and her chest.
“Is that my shirt?”
Jamie swallows, a flash of alarm flickering across her features, and her voice is small, so small and so, so frail. “Is... is that okay?”
Dani’s brow furrows. “No, um, yes, yeah, that’s... that’s okay.”
Jamie mumbles something that Dani doesn’t quite catch.
“Sorry?”
“Was in the dirty pile, so I thought... Doesn’t matter. Should’ve asked.” She can’t quite meet Dani’s gaze, and she’s gripping the lilac sweater so hard her knuckles have gone white.
“No, it’s okay. It’s fine,” Dani says, trying her very best to sound reassuring and not as though she’s talking to a cornered animal.
Jamie has not been forthcoming when it comes to information about herself, not since the night before... well. It has been nearly four months since leaving Bly, and Dani feels a bit like an archaeologist, uncovering fragments of a broken past little by little. Some days, she finds nothing, not even an arrowhead, something to point her in the right direction. Other days, it is as if she discovers a bit of parchment thought lost to civilization, a scrap of knowledge to help translate the whole. A perfectly preserved piece of Jamie in the form of a passport, a solitary photograph from a time Jamie no longer speaks of, the dogeared pages of a beat-up paperback.
“Do you think,” Dani begins, cautious, slow, “you could tell me...why?” There is an out she leaves. A minute shake of Jamie’s head, and she would back away, drop the subject at her feet for another day.
Jamie peers at her through clumped lashes. “Which bit?” She asks with a sardonic sort of chuckle, swiping at her nose. “The bit about your jumper or the bit about being a blubbering mess at three in the goddamn mornin’.”
“Both, if you’re up for it.”
Jamie studies her, blinking in the hazy light as though searching for something, like she expects Dani to laugh as if she’s the butt of a sorry joke.
“Yeah,” she says at last, “yeah, okay.” She takes a shuddering breath. “Told you ‘bout bein’ in the system, foster and prison, yeah?”
Dani watches her intently, hands in her lap, an expression of concern firmly situated on her face. She nods, though she knows only the bare minimum. They skirt precariously around the topic when it comes up.
The extent of her knowledge comes from studying Jamie’s reactions to her environment. The way she shirks from loud noises. The clatter of plates breaking in a restaurant, an engine backfiring in an alley. The way she scans every room before she enters, eyes lingering on corners and curtains, and checks the backseat of their rental car. The way she hoards buttons and pop tabs and coins at the bottom of her suitcase, and the way she methodically counts her things before they leave any motel and recounts them when they arrive at their destination.
Habits formed out of necessity in a life of cruelty, a life in which letting her guard down could mean the difference between life and death. A life she no longer lives, but a life that stays with her all the same.
“Had a dream,” Jamie says carefully, her voice almost too loud in the stillness of the morning, “Hardly remember the details now, but... Think I was in my third home. Fourth, maybe. The dad was a drunk. You could always smell it on his breath. Heavy footsteps you could hear coming.” She glances at Dani. “I couldn’t hear him this time. I think he threw a bottle at me, not sure, though. I couldn’t move, couldn’t yell, couldn’t fight back.” Her chest heaves, and Dani reaches out, then thinks better of it. She retracts her hand, leaving it palm-up on her knee for Jamie to take if she chooses.
“Hate being trapped,” she whispers, eyes darting around the bathroom, “Spent too long in places I couldn’t get out of.” She tentatively takes Dani’s hand, still avoiding eye contact. “I woke up ‘n still couldn’t breathe. Didn’t want to wake you up, so I came here.” She fiddles with the tag on Dani’s sweater, murmuring, “It’s not the same, but it was close enough. Smells enough like you that I could pretend.” At last, she looks up, waterline shining with unshed tears. “Bloody embarrassing.”
“Oh, baby...” Dani croons softly, squeezing her outstretched hand. “Can I... Is it okay if I hold you?”
Jamie sniffles, but nods her assent with a heavy sigh. Dani shifts so that she’s reclining against the slope of the tub, with Jamie comfortably settled between her legs, curled on her side, with her head on Dani’s chest. The sweater is pressed between them, the material grasped tightly in Jamie’s fist.
Dani weaves her fingers through the hair at the nape of Jamie’s neck, lightly scratching her scalp with blunt nails. Jamie shivers at the contact.
“’M embarrassed,” Jamie mumbles into the bunched fabric of Dani’s pajama top.
“Don’t be,” Dani says simply, her head resting on the white shower tile. She cannot tell if the flush rising to Jamie’s cheeks is because of the sweater or waking up in the middle of the night or both, and frankly, Dani decides, it does not matter.
It’s unusual, seeing Jamie like this. Vulnerable. Raw. Dani can count the number of times she’s seen Jamie cry on two fingers.
Once, in the aftermath of the lake, they had held each other close in the lamplight of Dani’s bedroom at Bly and wept for all that had happened and all they had lost, great heaving sobs that tore through walls and rafters and flesh and bone.
The second time, just now, with Jamie trembling in her arms.
She takes such measures to remain steadfast, resolute in her dependability, all hard angles and rigidity. A suave exterior carefully constructed to deter those who would attempt to breach her defenses. Cannons on the parapet he keeps loaded with snark and bite and sturdy shoes, ready to flee at the first sign of danger.
She had opened up to Dani, though, a privilege Dani does not vilipend. Took the risk and raised the portcullis to allow Dani to pass through to the inner walls, closer to the center, but not quite there. There was more to discover, Dani knew then and knows now, but patience is vital. Stability. The reassurance that she means no harm.
“Can...Why’d you think you needed my permission?” Dani clarifies, “For my sweater.” Jamie stirs against her, the weight warm and familiar.
“Don’t take things without asking,” Jamie recites despondently, and the weight of the statement catches Dani off-guard. The resignation in her tone, the rhythm of the words are indicative of a phrase spoken over and over again, well-worn and thoroughly beaten into the track of her mind.
(Perhaps, Dani fears in some dark corner of herself, it was not only Jamie’s mind. She thinks of trainers with holes in the sole, bits of cheese swiped from the refrigerator and promptly hidden, and wonders about a little girl left with no one but herself and callous adults who neglect and belittle.)
Dani finds herself shaking her head.
“It’s okay,” she says into the crown of Jamie’s head, her breath rustling wayward strands. “I mean, I’d appreciate a heads up if you want to borrow something of mine just so I don’t think something’s gone missing, but for this?” She pauses, choking on an inconvenient swell of emotion. “God, please, take it. Or wake me up or something, but... you’re not alone.”
Jamie is still, her breath coming in slow, measured puffs against Dani’s chest.
Dani tries, “Most of my stuff isn’t really your style, anyway. Not that I think you couldn’t rock a pink turtleneck.” She considers. “Actually, I’d kind of like to see that.”
The mental picture earns her a wet laugh from Jamie, and that is enough for now, Dani thinks.
“But, you know, if this happens again -- you wake up in the middle of the night -- please, wake me up, too, okay?”
“Still getting used to you, ‘s’all.”
“I know, baby, I know.”
They lay there in the bottom of the questionable motel bathtub until the quiver of Jamie’s shoulders recedes into a steady enough rhythm, in time with the rise and fall of Dani’s chest.
“Come on,” Dani nudges, “think you want to get back in bed?”
“Shit,” Jamie jolts upwards, taking them both by surprise, “God, sorry. Sorry. I’ve kept you up long enough.”
“No, no,” Dani assures, running a hand along Jamie’s upper arm, “I just thought the mattress might be more comfortable for you than I am.”
“Unlikely,” Jamie scrutinizes. She rubs her eyes once more and climbs out of the tub, offering a hand for Dani to lift herself up, which proves more difficult than anticipated on account of Dani’s leg having fallen asleep. She wraps an arm around Jamie’s waist, separating for an instant to nestle beneath cool sheets, then finding each other again.
“Sorry,” Jamie says to the darkness, the hum of the radiator providing the rattling soundtrack to her unnecessary apology.
“Shh,” Dani soothes, her nails spelling out words from covert languages on the skin of Jamie’s back, “Don’t say anything. Just… just lay here with me. We’ll talk in the morning.” Jamie’s grip tightens on her shirt. “Try to get some rest, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”
She brushes the ghost of a kiss along Jamie’s hairline, smoothing down the wisps that tickle her nose.
4:14 a.m., the clock reads.
Dani does not close her eyes until she feels Jamie’s muscles slacken, the tension leaching away into cotton and dream. Then, and only then, does she allow sleep to claim her.
#as always#no beta we die like dani#im currently sitting in a park so who knows if I caught everything#but I hope yall enjoy :)#fic#writing#ask#anon#my writing#prompt fill#the haunting of bly manor#damie#dani clayton#jamie#dani x jamie#damie fanfic#jamie x dani#thobm#thobm fanfic#is this my best work no but I like it well enough
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Not Your Danny – Ch 5. Fresh Air
Previous | First | Next | FFN | AO3
Word count: 3075
Dani hesitates at the top of the stairs. The lab door, when closed, looks comically when compared to the rest of the house. Set halfway down the hall that bisects the house, from either end, the doorway appears normal. When you get closer, however, and the door itself comes into view, a smattering of warning signs greets your eyes. The yellow and black stripes, the deep red biohazard symbol, one bright green sign that just reads GHOSTS AHEAD!, are the only pops of colour against the off-white walls.
The signs draw the eye to a comical degree. They remind Dani of cheap Halloween decorations, slapped on the nearest empty surface in the hopes that more signs equal more scares.
It's not as funny when the door is open. Metal plating gleams along the walls, some of the seams between them crusted with dried ectoplasm. More stains litter the stairs, left by careless, unclean feet. Far below, the pristine white tiles of the lab floor are lit by a soft green glow.
She hasn't even entered the lab, but just a glimpse of the room below transports her back to Vlad's place in Wisconsin and that cold room where she spent hours alone. It was the worst before she learned how to go intangible, when she was stuck with nowhere to go. Vlad didn't have the time to go down to the lab every day, but when he could, he worked feverishly on making newer, better clones than her.
"Siblings for you," Vlad called them, but Dani knows the truth now. Replacements, since she hadn't been good enough for him.
So many times, Vlad made a clone that was almost stable, almost life-like, but they would die overnight. Dani could never take her eyes away from it, no matter how much it horrified her. Seeing other clones melt away to nothing, their skin sloughing off, muscle dripping from their bones until those, too, liquified into nothing.
If Vlad had known Danny was transgender, maybe he wouldn't have seen Dani as such a failure. He might have loved her properly—or at all.
She doesn't want to go down the stairs, not when such horrible memories are already clamouring for attention. But Maddie is down there, and it might be hours before she comes upstairs. Bracing herself against the wall, Dani leans forward on her toes and calls down. "Maddie?"
Although she can hear shuffling coming from below, she gets no answer.
"Maddie?" she says again, a little louder.
Still no answer.
Swallowing her nerves, Dani goes down the steps. She keeps her arms in, even as her legs shake and threaten to give out on her, she doesn't want to touch the walls. Her gaze doesn't stray from her feet, either, fixed firmly on where she is stepping. When she reaches the last stair, she squeezes her eyes shut.
It's fine. This isn't Vlad's lab. There might be some similarities, they aren't the same. Like her and Danny.
I am at Fenton Works. I am at home. I am at Fenton Works. She repeats the mantra over and over. Her heart doesn't stop pounding, but eventually, she has to look up or turn back around, and she doesn't want to give up now. Steeling herself, she looks up and opens her eyes.
It's not Vlad's lab.
Of course, it isn't. Dani knew that the whole time. Actually seeing it, however, fills her with relief. Instead of bubbling vats full of half-formed bodies, they have long counters full of inventions. Although the floors have a few scuffs and some noticeable burn marks, there are no dubious stains of questionable origin.
The only true similarity Dani can find is the specimen cabinet. Its glass doors reveal the rows upon rows of ectoplasmic samples hidden inside. The vials sit on labelled racks, sorted through some mysterious method Dan is not privy to.
One rack, near the front of the cabinet, is labelled PHANTOM, DANI. Out of the four vials, two are empty, the third is missing, and the fourth—her blood sample— is half-full. Looking around at all the weapons down here, Dani hopes her samples went to good use. The last thing she wants is one of these guns firing at her without warning.
Dani finds the missing vial with Maddie on the other side of the lab. Maddie sits at one of two desks, hers far neater than the other. The vial of ectoplasm, still capped, rests by Maddie's elbow. In front of her, a gun sprawls out in pieces. Maddie's head is lowered over the gun as she works on it.
"Maddie?" Dani asks.
Maddie takes a deep breath before looking up. She can't hide the slight widening of her eyes when she sees Dani's human face, but she doesn't flee, which is a vast improvement from last time. "Yes, dear?"
"Is it okay if I go out somewhere?"
"Of course. Where do you want to go?"
"Nowhere in particular. I haven't left the house since I got here."
"Really? That can't be right."
"It is." To be completely honest, Dani hadn't been sure if she was allowed to leave. The Fentons never laid out any ground rules for staying with them. Nor did they let her in on what a usual household day is like. After a week and a half, Dani has figured out more or less how things go, but only now does she realize that the Fentons never did anything to accommodate her.
Not that she knows what accommodations she needs, but it's odd, isn't it? Someone new moves in and they keep doing what they have always done.
"I didn't even notice," Maddie admits. "I'm so used to D—the kids doing whatever they want as long as they aren't out late. You don't need to ask us if you want to go somewhere." She leans back over the dismantled gun, grabbing a core piece with a dozen little wires sticking out of it. "Don't forget to text. And be home by curfew, young man."
—
Depends on when that is.
Maddie's mind fills in the automatic response, a perfect copy of Danny's usual snark. Several seconds pass before she realizes no one said it out loud. She glances up from her work and finds herself alone in the lab. Dani left without saying anything. The discovery cuts her deeper than it has any right to.
Maddie's parting remark runs through her head again. She gasps, finally registering what she said, and drops the barrel component in her hand.
She goes over her parting remark in her head and gasps. She didn't mean to say that. The words rose instinctively to her lips, spoken without any consideration of who she had been talking to. It was such a small thing, too; a meaningless ritual built between Danny and Maddie over the years.
"Be home by curfew," she would say.
"Depends on when that is," he would answer.
When was the last time she and Danny had this exchange? It only happened when he told her he was going out, which wasn't very often in recent years, but the instinct was still there. Maddie presses a hand against her eyes.
Danny's absence resonated throughout Fenton Works, but little moments like this cut deeper than they should. All their little rituals. Backwash soda. Small things Maddie didn't realize she would miss until they were gone. And at the centre of it all was Dani, subject to Maddie's moments of weakness, filling in that piece of her Danny took when he died, but not quite fitting.
Maybe this was a mistake.
"I'm sorry, Dani," she tells the empty lab.
—
It feels good to fly again. Sitting in the house with nothing to do, Dani was starting to get stir crazy. Finally getting some fresh air in her lungs and some wind in her hair does wonders to alleviate her mood. Not even Maddie's slip up in the lab can bring Dani down now, no matter how much thinking about it makes her skin prickle.
She soars far over the city, letting her instincts take over as the people below get smaller and smaller.
Amity Park airspace is perfect for flying. It sees so little traffic from planes, drones, or anything else like that. People in the area know to steer clear of the skies in case a ghost is about. Danny once told her that the airport actually diverts planes around the city if they're flying too low.
Not even birds like to be up here.
Dani relishes the feeling of wind buffeting her body. She lets her control slip, plummeting through the air. Spreading her arms, she guides her fall without the use of her powers, grinning wide against the roaring wind. She and Danny might not have liked all the same things, but they could certainly agree on this: there is nothing more amazing than flying.
A good hour passes with Dani in the air. She dips down toward the city a few times, swooping through the streets. The tall downtown buildings and fast-moving cars make a great obstacle course, especially when she flies at top speed.
"Is that Phantom?" someone shouts.
Dani has to stop and backtrack, flying by the voice so fast she almost doesn't hear it. Lounging in the air, she peers down at the sidewalk. "Someone called?"
A kid holding his mother's hand scowls. "You're not Phantom."
Dani sticks her tongue out at the brat. "Dani-with-an-I Phantom, thank you very much."
"I don't care. You're not Danny Phantom."
Dani's smile freezes in place. The brat, who can't be more than eight, makes a rude gesture over his shoulder as his mom pulls him away.
"Charming kid!" Dani shouts after them. The woman pulls her son along faster. Dani's expression goes flat. The brief exchange leaves a sour taste in her mouth and an ache in her chest. Flying right now doesn't seem fun anymore. She lowers herself to the street, ignoring the whispers around her, and transforms.
A few people gasp, but she ignores that, too. Who cares if they see her? The whole city already knows the truth about Danny. It wouldn't take a genius to reach the same conclusions about her.
Her hands go to the front of her shirt, seeking out her hoodie pocket. Belatedly, she remembers that she hasn't worn the hoodie in days. At night, she puts on the pyjamas Maddie bought for her, and in the morning she dons her new favourite shirt along with one of the several skirts Jazz gave her.
The first time Dani transformed from human to ghost wearing these clothes, she was worried they might disappear, or her hoodie and shorts would reappear. To her utter delight, no such thing happened. The skirt she wears now is a little long for her. She has it pulled up to her waist, with the star shirt tucked underneath, and rolled the waistband several times until the skirt rested around her knees. The soft fabric swishes about her legs, so much lighter than what she is used to.
Taking in her surroundings, Dani notes the big box stores around her. She recognizes the area, although she has only seen it from the air. The Amity Par Mall should be somewhere close by. Although Dani doesn't have any money for clothes, she could window shop and look at what's available. That should help lift her spirits.
—
The usual chatter blankets the mall food court. Beyond the tables, a kiosk for a local store advertises unique Danny Phantom merch. T-shirts, phone cases, and hats bearing Danny's iconic logo sit out on display. From her seat facing the kiosk, Sam can see water bottles shaped like the Fenton Thermos, plushies that vaguely resemble the local haunts, and even a few fake ecto-guns.
But the centrepiece of the display is a poster, unmistakably new. It features Danny twice over, as Phantom and Fenton, standing back-to-back with himself. The sight of it fills her with rage.
"How dare they." Sam seethes.
Seated across from her, Tucker nods. The soda cup in his hand crumples as his grip tightens. "Isn't that illegal, too? Using his likeness and all?"
"Absolutely. Especially since he's a minor."
"Was," Tucker corrects her, his voice soft.
"Right. Was." The memory of Danny's last moments flashes through her mind. Sam flinches, closing her eyes in an attempt to shut the image out. It doesn't work. The moment is all too vivid in her mind and she doesn't think it will ever fade.
Movies like to give heroes slow deaths, dramatic last words spoken with a final breath, the warmth of a loved one nearby. They make it so easy to forget that most of the time people don't get anything like that. Most of the time they drop, and they're gone.
Her hands feel sticky and warm, her throat hoarse.
The stunned silence of the street after it happened presses down on her.
"Looks like they have a website. I take care of that and you take care of the lawyers?" Tuck says.
Sam opens her eyes. She has to rub her hands together to remind her they're dry now, have been for weeks. Still, that doesn't stop her from picturing dried blood beneath her nails.
"Yeah," she says after a moment. "Sounds like a plan."
Whoever owns that kiosk is going to regret using their dead best friend for profit. Sam and Tucker will make them burn.
Sam's glare turns from the man working the kiosk to the shoppers browsing its wares. Her anger stretches to them, too, though not as much. She can't blame a child for wanting merch of their hero. Three of the five shoppers lingering around the stand are children, the oldest in her teens. Except instead of happily perusing the merch like her younger counterparts, this girl glares at the stand with nearly as much hatred as Sam.
Something about her is familiar, too. Sam can't see her profile in full, since the girl is angled away, but she can't shake the feeling that she's seen this girl before.
"Holy shit, is that Danielle?" Tucker asks.
Sam's eyes widen. He's right. Without the signature red and blue, Sam didn't recognize her. Dani's new outfit suits her, though. "Jazz said she saw Dani before the funeral. Where has she been?"
Sam stands up. Tucker rises with her, having the same idea. They dump their food trays at the garbage station and make a beeline for Dani.
"Danielle!" Tucker waves to the halfa, who turns at his shout.
Dani smiles when she sees them. "Hey!"
"Nice shirt." Tucker flicks Dani's collar. "About time someone put it to good use."
"Are you staying at Fenton Works?" Sam asks. Like Tucker, she recognizes the shirt and knows there's only one place Dani could have gotten it.
Dani kicks the floor with her heel, the sole of her shoes squeaking against the tiles. "Yeah. Jazz invited me to move in. It's... okay."
Over Dani's head, Sam and Tucker share a concerned look. They recognize that tone. It's one of the few things Dani and Danny have in common, at least that Sam has seen. Dani's voice dips at the end of her sentence, going low and flat. Jazz does it, too, sometimes. It's probably a Fenton thing more than it is a Danny and Dani thing.
"What's wrong?" Sam asks.
"Trouble adjusting, that's all. It's not a big deal." Dani shrugs.
Sam wants to question her further but lets the subject drop. It's fine if Dani wants to keep it to herself, although Sam prefers if she didn't. Either way, they aren't going to leave her like this.
"Doing some shopping?" Sam already knows the answer, though. Dani doesn't have a purse, or a wallet, or any money with her by the looks of it.
Dani confirms her suspicions. "Just looking."
"Cool. Can we look with you?" Tucker rests an arm on Dani's head, using her as a post for leaning. It works like a charm, drawing a half-hearted grumble and a small smile out of Dani. "We're here to people watch. And take care of assholes like this." Tucker nods toward the Phantom kiosk.
This time, Dani giggles. "Yeah, sure. We can take you to all the girl stores."
Tucker pales. "Wait, no. I change my mind."
"Too late!" Dani latches onto the arm resting on her head.
Sam quickly grabs Tucker's other arm until he's squished between the two girls, growing rapidly more distressed as they steer toward the closest store with a bright pink sign. These kinds of stores aren't Sam's thing, and she normally wouldn't be caught dead in one, but she can put up with it for a while if it keeps the smile on Dani's face.
—
Dani takes her bag from the store clerk with nothing short of reverence lighting her face. Even though she just watched the clerk pack it, Dani can't help but open the bag and peer inside at her new purchases: a skirt, a pair of shorts, and a handful of button-ups like the one she already wears.
Beside her, Sam slips her wallet back into her pocket.
"Have a nice day!" the clerk says.
"Thanks. You, too!" Tucker's hand settles on Dani's back, nudging her out of the store.
As soon as they exit, Dani spins and jumps at Sam. "Thank you so much!" When they went into the store, she didn't expect to find anything she liked, but everything inside was so different from what she found in Danny's closet. Especially the pastel colours.
"Consider it a welcome home present," Sam says. Her arm curls around Dani's back, squeezing her tightly.
"Group hug!" Tucker says before draping himself over both of them.
Dani's breath catches in her throat. When was the last time she touched someone like this? Sam and Tucker's arms surrounded her, their warmth making her skin tingle. For a second, she can't breathe, so overwhelmed by the contact that everything else ceases to exist.
Against her will, her shoulders start to shake. She clings to Sam and Tucker tighter, fists gripping the back of their shirts as she draws them closer. Tears welled in her eyes, rising from somewhere deep within her that she had been pushing down. Now, though, in the warmth of Sam and Tucker's embrace, Dani cries for the first time since Danny died.
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#phic phight#phic phight 2021#notyourdanny#phanfic#phicc#dp fanfiction#danny phantom#dani phantom#danielle phantom#danny phantom fanfiction#trans danny#trans danny fenton#nyd chapter five
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DOES SHE ASK RUBY TO BITE DANI! |
Well, does she? And when, after a long time, when Dani finally sees the advantage and agrees to it... is it awkward?
Dani and Ruby have become friends. Ruby and Grace have become friends. All platonic, of course. But biting someone (and biting to turn them) is something... intimate. Like, you have to hold on there for a while. There are moans and gasps and usually that thing is only reserved for Regina (in Ruby's case) and Grace (in Dani's case).
So, do the partners that are not directly involded with this process just... stand there? Is Grace holding Dani's hand? Does Ruby ask "hum... excuse me" as she moves her mouth to Dani's skin (AND WHERE DOES SHE BITE HER, IS ANOTHER QUESTION). Does Ruby apologize after? Does she apologize that Grace had to watch it?
Does Regina have very jealous intimate interaction with Ruby later?
Those are the follow-up questions, I guess. Good luck.
Dear Lord...
You know I’m working on this THING that you and your anon put in my head. And you send me this meanwhile?! (While there is another ask in my inbox, well rather in the drafts, because I did start typing a response...)
You know full well that Regina will make a quip first, about how Granny got turned with that scratch on her arm. Quick and effective. Ruby gets offended.
“And you know that scar hurt her whole life afterwards! Also it was a traumatic event, I’m not here to give Dani nightmares about it.”
Regina huffs, mutters something about turning all saviors into werewolves now and leaves. Which alarms Ruby, because oh right, the snark is a defense mechanism. So they have a talk and once again Regina is reminded that there is this thing she doesn’t share with Ruby and all the ways Ruby keeps holding back. Has to hold back. So this is awkward indeed.
Fifteen minutes later Grace finally comes. “So, are you guys baili-” Yeah, okay, she just saw some sideboob, not here for that. (Well, not that sideboob anyway.)
She goes back in with this look in her eyes. Dani opens her arms inviting a hug. “We talked this through and have agreed it gives me an edge. Even Sarah agrees! Although I think she believed I was joking. Well, next full moon will be a surprise.”
“I hate surprises”, is all Grace mumbles into her shoulder.
Regina and Ruby come back into the motel room.
“Have you thought about where you want to,” Ruby gets flustered, because every phrase she can think of makes this sound so dirty.
Dani puts her hands on her body as if searching for the right spot, giving her own smooth skin a last once over. (She is wearing shorts and a tank top here, so there is lots of skin showing.)
“Just so we are clear, we are talking about a werewolf bite here, not some Anne Rice gay vampire romance embrace.” Regina is getting vibes she is not here for!
“Thanks, Regina for making it weird.”
“Just the shoulder would be good, I guess.”
“And if you wear a backpack? You want the straps to chafe?”
Ruby looks at Regina and holds up a finger with a silent ‘don’t you dare make Grace aware of the words she just used’. Regina smirks.
“So upper arm? I don’t want bite marks on my legs. And, well, definitely not anywhere else.”
Regina is trying so hard to hold back a comment about ‘biting her ass’.
“It’s a sensible choice, Dani.” Ruby tries to be so casual about this. But it’s not like she has ever bitten someone before. (She has eaten people. She has fucking literally eaten another human being.)
“Okay, so I’ll try to be quick. But also not too quick, I don’t want to bite your arm clean off. So, maybe it will be slow.” Yeah, nerves of steel. Not showing at all. “Also don’t be afraid. I mean, you’ve seen the wolf, it’s just me, teeth and all.”
Grace sits on the bed, back against the headboard, gesturing Dani to sit in front of her, leaning against her. “I’m gonna be here and it’s gonna be okay.”
Like always Regina is mesmerized by the moment her girlfriend casually transforms into a huge wolf. She hangs on to the red cloak Ruby was wearing.
Ruby nuzzles up against Dani, who is trembling a bit now. Who would be looking forward being bitten by a wild animal?! She has avoided growling dogs so often, how did she end up here?! Grace puts one of her arms around Dani, using the other to hold up Dani’s arm, supporting her. “You can look away, just like with needles.”
For a second Dani considers that, but then shakes her head. Ruby has her paws up on the bed, just the perfect height to.... bite her head clean off if she felt like it. But the golden eyes seem... warm... and kind.
There is a soft growl, maybe an instinct on Ruby’s part to warn of danger. The story of Little Red Riding Hood runs through Dani’s mind. ‘my what big teeth you have’ Damn, those are big and Dani watches as the teeth close around her flesh. Ruby had not been kidding, she could bite the whole arm off. Probably on accident if she sneezed right now. And so Dani held her breath.
Ouch, ouch, ouch. Teeth sink into flesh, Ruby is trying to find the right amount of force. She isn’t sure how deep the bite must be. She had always held onto a no-tiniest-scratch-at-all-policy, but she had no experience or frame of reference. (”Gonna ask Belle to research this subject for me.”)
Dani lets out a whimper, squeezing Grace’ arm around her. “Sssshhhh, it’s okay, Dani. Breathe, keep breathing, just breathe through the pain.” The skin gets torn apart and damn, Dani wishes Ruby would do this quick. But she also doesn’t want to lose her arm. Or just any flesh. The warm breath of Ruby on the slowly forming wound is something else. It’s agonizing. Even though she had endured worse pain in her life.
Blood starts dripping on the sheets. And it’s Regina who closes her eyes, because she can’t take it. It’s not that this scene before her is particularly gruesome. She doesn’t even mind disturbing this crazy form of intimacy. It’s the thought of Ruby tearing soldiers apart with those teeth and all the self-torturing guilt she still carried and only let Regina see in brief moments. That was what she could not stand.
Ruby stopped moving her jaws. Dani’s arm was trembling more and more, but Grace kept her up. Like waiting those few seconds after putting a stamp on paper.
And then it’s over. Ruby lets go and retreats to the corner of the room. She doesn’t want to draw attention to the fact that there is indeed blood to be licked up and well...
Regina goes over and throws the hood over Ruby, giving her a hug from behind before she even can stand up.
There is gaze on the nightstand and Grace grabs it, tending to the wound immediately. Okay, so the bite was no fun, but the rubbing alcohol is worse! But that is nothing compared to the fever Dani gets in the night.
She is wedged between Grace and Ruby holding her, having the weirdest fever dreams of animalistic terminators and magic used against nuclear bombs. And her senses go haywire, which is where Ruby keeps whispering in her ear that it will be okay, but it’s so clear.
They stay in this bubble for two days. Regina keeping a silent watch, wondering if this was the right choice.
#I hope you understand that I could've taken the easy way out here#on BtVS all it took for Oz to become a werewolf was a baby biting his finger!#konako#I don't even fully go here and look what you made me do#how do I even tag this?! I have no idea#a thousand words of I don't know what exactly...
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Dany deliberately targeting innocents in KL was horrible and OOC af, but I think what really irritated me was Tyrion's condemnation and shock. He's so shocked she didn't listen to his advice when the city surrendered. Like, DUDE, what counsel have you given her in the last 2 seasons that has ACTUALLY WORKED? Tyrion lost Dany her allies. He told her Cersei would keep her word. He told her the North would support her if she fought for them. (1/?)
(2/2) He told her to treat with Cersei, and Missandei was beheaded. Literally, Tyrion was one of the WORST things/people to happen to Daenerys (Besides Jon Snow and Sansa Snark). Literally what reason did Daenerys have to believe anything that came out of Tyrion's mouth? Everything he advised her to do ended badly for her. She was punished for listening to her advisors. And then harshly judged, side-eyed, gaslighted, and treated like she was crazy when she wasn't. Ugh.
You are absolutely right. Let’s start by saying that Dany killing innocents “because reasons” is total bullshit. This woman couldn’t even look at innocent people murdering each other for sport in the fighting pits of Meereen. It was tradition but she was 100% against it because innocent people died for so good reason at all. She accepted it because it was important to her people. She locked up her own dragons to prevent them from killing another child or harm anyone else. She used her dragons to fight her opponents because that’s what smart people do and dragons are her power, she doesn’t need to wield a sword. However, she only killed soldiers and people who opposed her because that’s what all monarchs do if they want to rule.
There are shameless double-standards regarding Dany in this fandom because she’s a woman who commands the most powerful forces in the lore. She also embodies both female and male energy and traits - and this makes fragile men feel threatened and women with internalized misogyny feel uncomfortable. Other male characters did far worse than she in their quest for power and they aren’t treated as harshly as she is. Tywin literally slaughtered an entire House because they rebel against the Lannisters. Robb and his troops destroyed the Riverlands; the innocent people who lived there didn’t care about Ned Stark or the Northern Independence, they just want to live in peace - for them the Red Wedding was a blessing (actually by “avenging” the Red Wedding and killing every male Frey in GOT, Arya probably caused a fight among the other Houses to decide who would take control over the Riverlands. Of course this is glossed-over because the Starks are moral superior to every other character and can do no wrong). Jaime commanded the slaughter of everyone in Highgarden: including innocent men, women and children. Not only that but King Bran saw fit to name one of those murderers to take hold of Highgarden in the end: I bet the surviving farmers who were terrorized by Bronn and the Lannister soldiers feel really safe now. The Starks also fought to get back their home. It doesn’t matter if it was their ancestral home: it belonged to House Bolton by royal decree. They had to take it back by force and many Northern houses didn’t even support them. Afterwards, Sansa even wanted to strip Lord Umber (a child) and Lady Karstark (a teenager) of their ancestral homes because their parents fought against in Starks in the Battle of the Bastards. Fortunately for these kids, Jon opposed to this idea.
When I saw “The Bells” I couldn’t believe my eyes. The stupidity of it. First, the ringing of bells doesn’t even mean surrender in the GOT/ASOIAF universe and that’s well established (ever since Season 2) but I guess Dumb and Dumber kind of forgot. Second, Dany had no reason whatsoever to target innocent people in the streets when Cersei was locked in the Red Keep. She only needed to fly to Red Keep and be done with it. She would eventually kill innocents in the process but at the very least it would have made sense. When I read the leaks, I thought it would go down like this. But instead, they made her burn down several streets before getting to Red Keep for no good reason at all. Cersei doesn’t care about the people and Dany knows this. Some can justify it as revenge for Missandei’s death but that’s bollocks. Those people didn’t kill or cheer for Missandei’s death: they probably don’t even know about her. At its core, this was only a plot device to make Jon look heroic while murdering her in the next episode and for Tyrion not to look like a traitor.
And this, ladies and gents, is how you ruin a TV series.
As for Tyrion suddenly caring about the people of King’s Landing is yet another Dumb and Dumber bullshit. Tyrion doesn’t care about the people: he is selfish in both books and show and he craves power too, mostly because the wants his father’s approval. Tyrion even wanted all these people dead a few seasons ago and resented saving their lives when Stannis attacked the city. The same with Varys: he fed Aerys’ paranoia by constantly telling him about traitors and acting like a snitch but in the TV show they had him all remorseful about witnessing Aerys’ burning people he considered traitors. He even sided with a King that commanded the sack of King’s Landing (leading to the murder and rape of innocents) and laughed at dead children (Elia’s children) as they were placed at his feet by Tywin.
Was Tyrion really on Dany’s side? Because he clearly didn’t want his siblings hurt or killed. And he knew Cersei would never give up her power and Jaime would stay by her side. He persuaded Jon to do his dirty work (= killing Dany) to save his own skin because he knows he would probably be executed for treason, not because he cared about the people.
What they made Dany do in GOT is wrong and off-character. But what House Stark, House Baratheon, House Arryn and House Lannister did in the sack of King’s Landing was far worse so people really should stop acting so self-righteous. Drogon turned those innocents into dust in a matter of seconds because dragonfire is hot as hell, but when those soldiers raped and murdered it wasn’t so quick and the women who were raped had to live with the trauma and probably with the offspring of that rape. Ned opposed to it and went to look for Lyanna, yes. But his soldiers and the other Northern houses didn’t follow him: they stayed in King’s Landing murdering and raping until they had enough. That’s fucking disgusting. It’s also fucking sickening painting Dany as the ultimate evil of the series when all of this happened.
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Q: What did Sansa think of Jon Killing Daenerys?
A: There are a lot of scenes/conversations I wish we had gotten in s8, and Sansa’s reaction to what happened in KL and Dany’s death is one of them.
Sansa expressed her fears about who Dany was back in s7 before Jon went to Dragonstone, and in her mind, her fears were confirmed. This was before Dany threatened her, showed herself so obsessed with the throne that she wouldn’t consider the well-being of her armies, tried to keep Jon’s parentage a secret so she could take the throne, and then murdered hundreds of thousands of people. Ned Stark fought in a rebellion against a Targaryen who liked to burn people, so I don’t think there is any doubt in Sansa’s mind that Jon was right to kill Dany. I’m sure she was relieved that the tyrant was dead, but I think the horror of what happened in KL and her grief over Jon’s fate would temper any positive feelings.
If Jon tried his “was it right” shit to Sansa (instead of Tyrion), Sansa would have wanted to tell him he was an idiot. She wouldn’t say it, but she would think it, loudly. Jon and Sansa’s conversations tend to begin antagonistically and end with her breaking the tension by assessing Jon’s emotions and addressing the underlying issue. Back in s7, Jon reprimands Sansa for publicly disagreeing with him, and while initially dismissive, she quickly realizes Jon has insecurities about his ability to rule. When she does, she switches from snarking at him to affirming him.
So, I think Sansa would have understood that while she was glad Dany was dead, this wasn’t the time to relish it. She would have recognized Jon’s anguish over becoming a kinslayer, traitor, killing a woman (I talk about that here), and I think Sansa would have done her best to comfort him. She would have told Jon that he saved the North and the South by rallying the greatest army Westeros has ever seen to defend the realm against the Night King. And in her mind, he saved them again when he killed Dany. She would have offered every reassurance to Jon that Tyrion didn’t.
After their reunion in s6 Sansa said, “Jon is Jon…He’ll keep me safe. I trust him.” She initially had a hard time living up to that sentiment, but she proved she meant it when she defended him to the Northern Lords in s7. In s8, even after he bent the knee which she thought was because he loved Dany (I think she changes her mind about his motivation), she still has faith in him (8x01). In the finale, she wants Jon to be KitN again. While she has reasons to question him, disagree with him, and be frustrated with him during s7-8, she demonstrated her loyalty to Jon until the end. Her loyalty was grounded in trust. For Sansa, Jon killing Dany reaffirms her faith in him. Her only regret is that he was punished for it.
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lily liveblogs “terminator: dark fate,” part five
HEY, time for our industrial end sequence!! This time, it’s on a dam because we had fire and machinery in previous films, and we’re switching to a different element.
(this means that the next film would have ended with a FOREST fight scene, right? Right.)
[parts one, two, three, four]
The NPCs run for cover. I have no idea what dam this is supposed to be! It looks like Hoover, but I honestly have no clue where they are at this point.
Carl and the chassis are fighting in the water. Then the oozy metal part comes up and grabs him from behind! I hate it when they double-team like that.
Wow, they just barely keep from going over the edge there. Oh, wait, too soon...
Sarah dislocates her shoulder. Ow. Grace pops it back in. Sarah gets another "Fuck!"
The Rev-9 vaulting out of the water is just like in the beginning....
"No, no, Grace, really...?" YES GRACE. She yells back at them to wear their seatbelts!!! WOW... Sarah snarks back at her because what good is it if you can’t get a one-liner in right before you go over the edge into the abyss and certain death?
OH my god the Rev-9 on the windshield is so fucking scary right there they are UNDERWATER in the DARK aaaaaaaaah.
Okay, I'm not sure how if they would have survived that in real life, but fuck if that underwater fight scene isn't as cool as hell.
A legit complaint I've seen is that the bulletproof vests would weigh them down too much to get to the surface with the air they have, but... I mean come on, if that's your only factual complaint about this movie, I think they did a good job.
Cut to them on top of the dam again, wow that was fast. This scene with the three badass women battered and bruised and clinging to each other.. MY HEART. MY POOR HEART!!
Ah, here it is... Grace's power source! The EMP substitute I’ve been waiting for. Then Carl shows back up.. with a weapon for Sarah. Triumphant theme music. The whole family is here. Oh, and meds for Grace. YAY. wouldn’t want to pass out halfway through the climactic fight scene.
Wow, this functionally dysfunctional found-family is only together for like half a day and I need a million TV episodes about them STAT.
Oh, of course it's a hydroelectric dam...so generators!
Oh, hey, Grace gets her chains from the poster! Nice.
Murderbot bonding time! The Rev-9 talks to Carl: "You and I were built for the same purpose. And Legion is the only future." SO MANY FEELS ABOUT THIS.
"I know she's a stranger to you. Why not let me have her?" POLITICAL QUESTION OF THE MOMENT, KTHANX. But also proof that even though the REv-9 is good at mimicking humans and predicting humans, it still doesn't UNDERSTAND humans.
"Because we're not machines, you metal motherfucker," Sarah snarls. And I think we're up to six fucks for Sarah at this point? I've lost count.
Have I mentioned that the splitting Terminators are creepy? Have I? HAVE I? Because they are.
Oh, dear, Sarah Connor confronting her nightmare of flaming death murder skeletons again.
Geeeeee, I wonder if that turbine will do anything...
Oh, Grace is stabbed, I guess she's gonna pull the power source out and take him down with her... or not. But at least now Dani’s going to object way less about self-sacrifice, since she’s already doomed.
I don't know why the REV-9 goes back to one; I feel like he's stronger and fights better in two parts? But you do you, I guess.
Pretty sure it's not over yet because Dani still hasn't done anything against the REV-9 herself. Oh, good, and Sarah gets to relive yet another nightmare of a metal skeleton stalking out of the flames. ONLY THIS TIME IT'S ON FIRE, TOO. (I guess that's the polyalloy bits melting away??)
Yep, Grace is gonna sacrifice herself to save Dani from the REV-9 and remove her power source. Oh, wow, Dani has to stab her and pull it out herself. That's gonna cause some more trauma. Another round for everyone!
Dani gets to go after the REV-9... but it goes badly, because drama. Sarah yells for Carl to wake up, and it works!! He distracts the REV-9 long enough for Dani to stab him in the eye with the power source and... I guess that sets it off???
[why the hell didn't they augment Grace with more than one of those things? Maybe Dani will fix that in the future when she gets there. maybe that's something to add in fix-it fics. And where did they get them? Did they take them from destroyed Terminators and weld them into humans?? What happened?? ]
Carl and the REV-9 fall into the abyss together, because OF COURSE THEY DO, because just when Sarah has learned to forgive/accept Carl as he is, she has to lose him because RULE #1: SARAH CONNOR MUST ALWAYS SUFFER. And the REV-9 rips his flesh off and they both die when the EMP goes off, and it mimics the lightning flash in the beginning.
Oh, so yet again, Sarah Connor has to stand and watch a Terminator she cares about die in a fire. GOOD JOB PACKING ON THE ANGST, PEOPLE.
"For John." OH MY GOD, WAY TO GO OUT IN STYLE AND ALSO MY HEART.
The difference between this and the first film is that Sarah isn't alone at the end. The difference between this and the second film is that Sarah and Dani are... not equals, exactly, but they are more equal than Sarah and John were at the end of T2. They're veteran and leader, not mother and son. Dani and Sarah understand each other in a way that no one--not even John--can because of what they've suffered and lost. The cycle repeats, and yet it’s subtly different each time
cut to Grace as a kid on a playground, oh now there's some loaded symbolism in this francise, lol. And there's Dani looking through the chain-link fence at her right on cue, like Sarah looking at her might-have-been kids in T2. Is this where the filmmakers got the idea that Dani is Grace’s “mother”? LOL, nice try, guys.
She walks over to the car where Sarah is waiting for her. It's a Jeep, just like the one she drove to Mexico in at the end of T1. She tosses Dani the keys and moves over to the passenger seat AND IF THAT AIN'T A STATEMENT, I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS.
"I won't let her die for me again," Dani says. "then you need to be ready."
Dani puts the car in gear and they drive away down the eucalptyus-lined streets of the California suburbs where everything is green and tranquil and beautiful, and while the movie ends perfectly here as is, I can also see how they would have linked it into a trilogy like they'd originally planned. But alas, this is probably the end until the all-but-inevitable next reboot.
And THEN the credits roll, and we get the main theme at the end, and I jut have to say, it's not the same as in the other movies, where we had to listen to the whole thing first THEN we heard it in the film itself. But nobody has the goddamn patience for credits anymore, which is why Marvel started sticking bonus scenes in theirs to keep people in their seats.
...but wow are these credits long. Oh, well, the music's good and I learn random tidbits this way, like how the writers have little imagination when it comes to naming minor characters, and just give them the same name as their actors (Diego, Gabriel, Alicia, etc).
sadly, all the deleted scenes and bonus content is on the blue-ray and not the DVD sigh.
So. Was this a perfect film? No. It was written by committee, and I think it shows. Did it deliver what I hoped for--Sarah Connor being a badass, snarky dialogue, and cool action sequences? Yes. Did I enjoy watching it? HELL YES. Will I be thinking/ranting about it for a long time. YOU BET.
Was it "necessary"? Of course not-but is ANY piece of art ever really "necessary"? Who cares! It was fun, and it was thoughtful, it was interesting to me, and it was wayyy better than most of the recent rounds of sequels and reboots.
And to be honest, if they can make a bajillion Fast and Furious movies, and James Bond, and John Wick, and Mission Impossible and Karate Kid action flicks featuring men (not to mention Star Wars and remakes of every single animated Disney film AND a three-part Hobbit movie trilogy), I think I can enjoy a female-led action movie with zero guilt whatsoever without having to justify its existence to anyone.
(I can’t think of a single other action film with three badass female leads, who have complete character arcs and aren’t sexualized for the male gaze... and if there is, I want to watch it STAT)
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Jaime & Brienne (8x04 thoughts)
* * * * * S P O I L E R A L E R T * * * * *
Some people are calling it bad fanfiction but I thought it was perfect. Jaime and Brienne’s consummation scene had a little of everything that is quintessentially them: some snark, some awkwardness, some tenderness and some fragile hope giving way to extreme sexual tension. I loved how Brienne looked at him as she tried to figure out what the hell was happening. I loved how Jaime looked at her as she began to untie her top. And I loved how even when they were half-naked, they still looked each other straight in the eye.
What I didn’t love was what came next (cos it wasn’t them - boom, ching). A tender sex scene would’ve been much more deserved than it was with say, Jon and Dany, who I find boring as fuck (as a pairing). But GoT is more conservative with such scenes these days. And I can forgive that cut-away since I never really thought, way back in s2 when I started shipping these two, that they would actually become canon, they would actually be endgame. And despite the absolutely ridiculous turn the writers took at the end of this ep, I’m pretty sure they are still endgame.
I don’t think Jaime is going back to Cersei and I do think he is heading south to help the right people, although I’m not hoping he’s the one to actually kill her. He’s already taken out one monarch and had it haunt him the rest of his life, and that wasn’t even someone he had a close connection with. I wouldn’t want him living with his twin’s death for the rest of his days. (I suppose there is the highly depressing possibility that he will resume his place at Cersei’s side, eventually turn on her, kill her and die in the process, leaving Brienne to forgive him as he dies or posthumously. There would be some poetic, full-circle moment in that, I guess.)
With the idiotic way it was written, I totally understand people trying to interpret Jaime’s parting with Brienne as an act of love and protection. After all, he so clearly adores her. One woman is so clearly good for him and the other not. One relationship is so clearly superior to the other, boasting a healthy love, respect, admiration and loyalty. It doesn’t make sense for him to act this way towards this woman, within the context of their relationship. To me, however, trying to understand Jaime’s actions this way is pointless because it’s just piss poor behaviour. Not that I blame the character. I blame the writers. This is hardly the first time they’ve fucked up Jaime’s character arc, but they’ve been doing such a stellar job this season that I really didn’t see this coming.
Some folks have pointed out that Jaime & Brienne’s relationship arc has been mirrored in Arya & Gendry’s. So I guess we should’ve seen it coming as soon as Arya dumped Gendry. Personally, as much as I like Arya and Gendry as a pairing, I am actually okay with Arya taking off to take care of unfinished business because, 1. she’s female and it’s a rarer plot to see a young woman heading off on a quest of justice and leaving a man crying in her wake, 2. she’s young and young people do dumb stuff that hurts the people who love them and 3. Arya’s journey has never been about her discovering she’s not an immoral killer but a decent, honorable person. (Her journey has been the opposite: discovering that she’s not an honourable lady but a ruthless assassin. Go girl). Even since meeting Brienne, Jaime’s character arc has been about realising he is a good man who is worthy of the love and devotion of a good woman. This arc stalled slightly when he fell back under the influence of his tyrannical father and psychotic sister but kicked back into gear when he finally left King’s Landing to fight for the living, Brienne’s words no doubt ringing in his head. Just like in the old-fashioned books, Jaime is a knight who must earn the pure and constant love of his lady. He knows he doesn’t deserve it as he is, so he must better himself with acts of internal improvement and prove himself with acts of external valour. This is something he has done, many times over. Fighting beside Brienne at the Battle of Winterfell was the culmination of this journey of improvement and proof. He has earned her love and, even more importantly for him, her respect. He has redeemed himself in her eyes -- again.
Every time Jaime is in Brienne’s presence, he stands a little taller, he looks a little clearer, his heart opens a little more. His honour revives, his resolve steels and his belief in his worth is confirmed. You can actually see it happening, thanks to Nikolaj Coster-Waldau’s amazing performance. And sure, we all backslide occasionally into destructive behaviours of the past. But he has earned this time with Brienne and he knows it. He wants it so badly, values her so dearly. If he still has thoughts like the ones he expresses in their final scene together, he wouldn’t let them ruin that time or impact her. He wouldn’t make life-altering decisions based on them. Not necessarily because he trusts himself so completely, not when he’s in that dark and doubtful place, but because he does trust her. If she tells him he’s a good man, he believes her. If she wants to be with him then he believes he’s worthy of her. If she believes he’s not a killer, a destoyer, an immoral coward, then Jaime knows he can trust her judgement. Because she would never let him close enough to wound her.
Which is, of course, what he does at the end of this ep. Now, if they had to get Jaime out of Winterfell and down to King’s Landing there would’ve been a way to write that that was still heart-wrenching but that also honoured these characters and their connection. Jaime could’ve spoken to Brienne in a loving, mature and respectful way. He could’ve spoken to her in a way that befitted a man of his mature age and improved character. And yes, she may have fought him. But I don’t buy the cruel-to-be-kind explanation. If it is true, then it’s not just OOC, it’s over-dramatic, unnecessary and ridiculous. It’s the writers trying to create drama where it doesn’t need to be. It’s them trying to elicit a reaction rather than write organically from the truth of the characters. This is, in my mind, the ultimate insult to the characters, actors and audience.
#game of thrones#got#jaime x brienne#braime#brienne of tarth#jaime lannister#nikolaj coster-waldau#gwendoline christie#got spoilers#got8
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Seven Deadly Sins
A/N: Soooo... after the Disney Villain Medley came out, @im-basically-logan, @robanilla, and I were geeking out about it with some other peeps on Discord, and this Seven Deadly Sins AU kinda birthed from it. We had a ridiculously long convo about it, and I just knew I had to write something for it (and I know I have a lot of WIPs shush). Anyway, enjoy this AU of Thomas and his friends being demons that represent the seven deadly sins!
Warnings: demons, threats, flirting, arguing/banter, implied manipulation, implied sexual content
A manor stood in silence at the hill. But on certain evenings at the stroke of midnight, if one listened closely, the manor seemed to come alive. Candlelight would flicker in the windows, colorful lights would pulse and glow from inside, and music would flow in the air. Because this was no ordinary manor. This manor was the meeting place of the Seven Deadly Sins.
A man walked up to the front door of the manor. He adjusted his leather jacket with a scowl, glaring at the door with disdain. He hated these monthly meetings. His colleagues were… eccentric, to say the least. Shaking his head, he pushed the door open, striding into the manor. His grand entrance startled the man sitting in the chair beside the door, causing his bowler hat to nearly fly off his head.
“Gatekeeper… have the others arrived yet?” he asked smoothly, shutting the door behind him. The man he had startled- the Gatekeeper- adjusted his bowler hat with a huff.
“No, Greed. You’re the first to arrive, as always,” Gatekeeper replied.
“Good. I’ll be in the parlor, send the others there when they arrive,” Greed ordered.
“This isn’t the first time we’ve done this, I know the drill,” Gatekeeper huffed, rolling his eyes. Greed narrowed his eyes, and the Gatekeeper shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
“I’m merely reminding you of how we do things here. We wouldn’t want to trouble ourselves with acquiring a new Gatekeeper, would we?” he replied evenly, voice dangerously low. The Gatekeeper swallowed nervously.
“No. We wouldn’t,” he answered.
“I thought so.” Greed turned on his heel, heading into the parlor. He sat down at the table, taking a seat at its head, just in front of the fireplace. One by one, figures appeared in the entryway to the lounge.
“Please, take a seat,” Greed said, gesturing at the chairs around the table. One woman stepped forward, taking the chair next to Greed’s.
“So good to see you again, Greed,” she said cooly.
“And you, Pride,” Greed replied with a smirk. A tall man slid into the chair on his other side, eyes glittering with excitement.
“Greed! You’ve done something different with your hair, it’s simply stunning,” the man crooned, leaning towards Greed as he gazed at him.
“Lust, my hair is the same as it always has been,” he sighed, rolling his eyes.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t love the attention, my dear,” Lust replied with a smirk.
“Why do you always have to flirt with Greed?! There’s more of us here than just him!” another man snapped, taking the seat across from Greed.
“Envy, do you always have to be so loud?” a man wearing suspenders grumbled, slumping in the seat next to him.
“Aw, don’t worry, Envy, there’s plenty of me to go around. And you too, Sloth,” Lust replied.
“Hey, leave me out of this. Envy was the one whining,” Sloth huffed.
“Enough arguing! Let’s just get this over with,” one woman snarled, sitting down between Lust and Sloth.
“Something bothering you, Wrath?” Pride teased.
“Yes, there is! I’d much rather be instilling anger in humanity, yet I’m here with you fools,” Wrath fumed.
“Hey, you’re not the only one with things they’d rather be doing, Wrath,” the last man to join the table replied, taking the seat across from her.
“Oh, we all know what you’d rather be doing, Gluttony,” Wrath sneered.
“Is it such a crime to enjoy food?!” Gluttony protested.
“Well obviously it must be, since you’re here with the rest of us,” Sloth drawled.
“That’s rich, coming from a lazy piece of sh-”
“Friends! Please, let’s not fight,” Greed said cooly, glaring at Gluttony. The demon in question shrugged, leaning back in his chair.
“Oh so we’re friends now?” Envy scoffed. Each demon at the table stilled as Greed arched an eyebrow at Envy.
“Of course we are… or don’t you remember the pact we made?” Greed replied with an air of what seemed to be nonchalance, but the shadows shifting and curling restlessly behind him betrayed his true emotions.
“Oh, you mean how you-” Envy started, but was cut off with a warning glare from Pride. The table fell silent for a moment, until Lust once again leaned towards Greed, eyes glittering.
“I believe Envy was about to talk about how you so generously gifted us with demonhood? Truly, a clever move on your part,” Lust purred. Greed was seemingly rendered speechless for a moment, unable to break away from the other demon’s gaze. But he soon shook his head, clearing his throat as he did so.
“Yes… I’m sure. I hope you’re satisfied. But if you ain’t-”
“Yeah, yeah- don’t blame you, blame your friends on the other side. Whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean,” Envy interrupted him, sulking in his chair.
“Oh Envy, you know exactly what that means,” Greed crooned. The table fell silent once more, and the demons eyed each other warily.
“Well, this has been a fun little chat thus far, but let’s get down to business, shall we?” Pride said after a long stretch of uncomfortable silence.
“Fantastic idea, Pride. Did I mention you look absolutely stunning tonight?” Lust praised, and she practically preened at the attention.
“Enough flirting, we have more important things to do,” Greed snapped, glaring sharply at Lust.
“Hey! Jealousy is my thing, Greed!” Envy teased. Greed let out an incredulous sound, face flushing for the briefest of moments.
“I am NOT jealous,” Greed huffed.
“Aw, don’t worry darling. You know I have eyes especially for you,” Lust replied with a wink.
“Wonderful for you two! Can we get this meeting over with?” Wrath snarled, slamming her hands on the table.
“Temper, temper… but correct. Gluttony, how are things looking on your front?” Greed asked, turning his gaze towards him.
“Humans are living healthier lifestyles… doing things like eating something called ‘kale.’ Don’t they understand that I just want them to enjoy the finer things in life?” Gluttony replied dejectedly, slumping forward onto the table and burying his head in his hands.
“I know what would get the humans’ attention…” Sloth offered.
“This isn’t the music video thing again, is it?” Envy groaned.
“Hey, I’m just saying! Good lighting, special effects- they’ll eat it up,” Sloth shrugged.
“Not like you’d organize something like that, it would take too much of your precious time,” Wrath snarked.
“Of course I wouldn’t. I just provide the brilliant ideas. But if you don’t want to make humanity complacent, then I understand,” Sloth replied, voice smooth and condescending.
“It’s a stupid idea, if you ask me,” Envy grumbled.
“You’re just jealous that I came up with it, and you didn’t,” Sloth said with a smirk. Envy made a series of frustrated noises, and the table of demons erupted into laughter.
“Let’s table that idea for later. Lust, how are you faring with humanity?” Greed asked after the laughter had cleared.
“Why don’t the two of us go somewhere private, and you can find out?” he offered, smirking coyly. Greed rolled his eyes, but those sitting closest to him could see the slight tinge of pink creeping across his cheeks.
“Pride?” Greed asked, turning towards her.
“I’d love to take over the meeting while you and Lust have fun,” she teased with a wink.
“What?! No, that’s not-”
“I know, I know. Couldn’t hurt to try though, right? Anyway, things are fine. They could be better, but it certainly could be worse. Humans are naturally prideful creatures anyhow,” she replied.
“I see. Anyone else have anything to share?” Greed asked, looking to the others. Wrath scowled in defeat, shaking her head. Envy blew out a sigh, leaning his head on his hand. Greed nodded curtly, then turned his attention to Sloth.
“I believe you mentioned something about a music video?” he asked. Sloth sat up straight for once, eyes gleaming.
“Yes. And I believe I know just the musical selection to use…”
Tag List: @adorably-angsty @alix-the-skeleton @allthemetalsoftherainbow @armageddonhascome @backatthebein @bangthekobrakid @bloodropsblog @cefinitely-rolo @coffeestudylive @cosmic-chu @cyndaquil17 @dani-jeanso @didsomeonesayprince @emphoenixcat @every-day-insomniac @fandomsandanythingelse @freekiphotography @freepaperie081 @hanramz-the-fander @i-need-a-social-life-2710 @i-really-dig-the-purple @ironwoman359 @justanotherpurplebutterfly @kanejandkruge @kitsuneprideleader @kittycake574 @le2712 @littlemiracle05 @loganpatton @lollingtothemax @look-its-meme @loverofpizzaandallthingssweet @lynlinked @mewsicalmiss @midnightcandy @moonstonefox @musicsavedmefromdeath @mystrangedarkson @nightmarejasmine @not-as-smart @of-treble-and-dragons @punsterterry @purplepatton @quoth-the-sparrow @radioactivehelena @royallyanxious @ruuworld @sanders-trash-4ever @save-me-oh-dream-of-mine @shadowsfromthesun @shygirl4991 @sleepyssnail @softbludemon @softnic @sombraplayslazertag @sweetinsomniac @the-fandoms-are-takin-over @theresneverenoughfandoms @thisrandomperson102 @thuriweaver @vigilantvirgil
#thomas sanders#demon au#seven deadly sins au#greed!thomas#lust!leo#wrath!valerie#sloth!foti#envy!terrence#gluttony!jamahl#pride!brittney#demon!thomas and friends#sage writes
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The North Deserves to Speak, The Future Matters.
I’m tired of the hypocrisy with this whole situation. I don’t know if it’s bad writing or if something else is going on here, but I’m done with it. All I’ve been hearing is:
“Titles don’t matter!”
“The north is so ungrateful!”
“The north is thinking about the wrong things! They won’t care when the NK comes!”
Okay.
Titles don’t matter.
So then why did Jon bend the knee to Dany?
Because it wasn’t to save the North, that’s for sure.
“If we hadn't gone I wouldn't have seen. You have to see it to know. Now I know. The dragons are my children. They're the only children I'll ever have. Do you understand? We are going to destroy the Night King and his army. And we'll do it together. You have my word.” – Dany 7x6
Dany had already agreed to help Jon, and she was doing it because she saw the Night King threat for herself, and he murdered her child. Besides the obvious threat the NK posts alone, she is personally invested in his destruction for reasons beyond that. She lost her baby to this thing; she’s going to fight him regardless. So, at this point, it’s made very clear, Jon had no obligation to bend the knee at all for Dany to help.
Alright. Not Dany. How about "My Queen"? I'd bend the knee but- What about those who swore allegiance to you? They'll all come to see you for what you are. I hope I deserve it. You do.
Jon chose to bend the knee to Dany, without any obligation to in order to save his home. He didn’t bend the knee because he needed to in order to get his allies. He didn’t bend it because it was the only way Dany would come help. He bent it because he personally believed in Dany as a competent ruler. He made this choice by himself, without anyone else’s input. This is the problem that is being addressed in Season 8, and why I’m tired of seeing people defending it by claiming the North is speaking on stuff that “doesn’t matter.”
They literally just had their home taken from them, without any discussion or input from them, after they trusted Jon to protect them and keep what they fought and died for to get back, safe. Jon already knew the North wasn’t going to go for a Southern ruler, he said it himself when he first met Dany. I mean, that should’ve told him that bending the knee wasn’t the way to go right now.
Why couldn’t Jon wait until after the war, to suggest the idea to the North, that Dany be Queen, huh? If titles don’t matter, why bend the knee to her? Why couldn’t he wait for the North to see her for “who she is” when she fights alongside them as an ally alone, and not as someone whose come in and taken the North from them in exchange for her help? Because Jon never told them what happened, he is sitting there telling them:
“I had a choice, the North or my crown.”
Which is a lie.
He didn’t have to choose between the North or his crown. Dany already agreed to help him. He absolutely could’ve kept his crown and brought her as an ally as well. Jon put them all in this precarious situation by thinking of his own personal opinions and feelings. He chose this for them, and now he’s telling them: “It doesn’t matter.”
Here is the real fact: Jon gave up the North to Dany, because he personally believed she’d be a good ruler to them. But here’s the thing; He’s obviously not talking about for just now, but in the future as well. So, when Jon bent the knee, he was thinking about after the war. Jon was thinking of who could rule them after it’s all said and done, not just for now.
So, that leads me to this: If Jon can sit there and think about after the war and who he thinks should rule the North when it’s all said and done…why can’t the North do the same? Why can Jon pick and choose who he’s giving their home too, but the North can’t protest this, without folks degrading them and saying: “they just don’t get it!” or “they’re thinking of politics, this is war!”
It just reminds me of when Jon was making unanimous decisions without telling Sansa first, and so she felt she had no other choice but to speak up right there to get her opinion on the matter out there too. And Jon got mad because she was “undermining his authority.” Even though he gave her no chance to speak on her concerns beforehand. Well now, once again Jon made a decision without telling anyone until the last minute, and then gets upset when people shockingly, feel annoyed by it. And you’ve people once again, defending him for it, and throwing shade at everyone else for daring to get mad and questioning him.
And Dany? Dany already knew the North wasn’t going to accept her like that. As I said above, Jon told her this already.
My people won't accept a southern ruler; not after everything they've suffered.
And he told her again this episode;
I warned you; Northerners don't much trust outsiders.
So, Dany went into this, fully aware that she had her work cut out for her. Therefore, it’s enough to say, that if the North weren’t all that welcoming or deferential to her, she should understand why, and take it all in stride until she can prove herself to them, prove herself to not just be “more of the same.” The first clue that she wasn’t going to get deferential treatment anyway, was the fact that when she showed up, nobody bowed. Season 8, Episode 1 did so many things similar to Season 1 Episode 1 in Game of Thrones, but one thing I have noted here, is that unlike with King Robert, where the greeting party bowed to him and his family; nobody bowed for Dany. Nobody greeted her warmly, nobody wanted her there as Queen except Jon.
So, when Sansa sizes her up (like every other Northerner there) and gives her light deferential treatment; “Winterfell is yours, Your Grace.” She is being civil, if not rather guarded. The next and last thing Sansa even says in her presence, is when she’s speaking about food shortages, a valid concern that has been a problem brought up time and time again throughout this series, especially regarding The Long Night.
May I ask, how are we meant to feed the greatest army the world has ever seen? While I ensured our stores would last through winter, I didn't account for Dothraki, Unsullied and two full-grown dragons. What do dragons eat, anyway?
[...]
Whatever they want.
To give this kind of an answer to people who don’t know her, clearly are mistrustful of her, and who, for all intents and purposes, asked valid questions that need answers? Just- Dany wants to be their Queen, right? So, it should stand that she think of answering the question. Sansa is part of the North, she’s no keener on Dany than anyone else there, and snark or no, she had given Dany proper deference before, calling her “Your Grace,” and welcoming her into their home. If she’s a bit frustrated, well doesn’t she have a right to be? The food shortage is a big issue and has been regarded as such for just about every season that the Long Night is referred to. Hell, just last season, we saw how the Hound ended up finding a father and his daughter dead, because of starvation, but go on about how food shortages don’t matter.
Point is, when Sansa pointed out a real issue, this could’ve been Dany’s chance to chime in and speak on solutions, to show the North that she understands their wariness to trust outsiders, but she’s still going to be here to help them fight and make sure they’re all as prepared as possible because the Night King is everyone’s problem and they all are in this together. This could’ve been the olive branch to extend in order to lessen tensions a bit. Instead, she sat back and gave Sansa a snarky, lowkey threatening reply of “whatever they want.” Which is perfect by the way, to say about two full grown dragons whom I’m sure they’ve heard plenty of frightening tales about.
So that’s the only time Dany has been in Sansa’s presence, and she of course came to the conclusion, that Sansa doesn’t like her very much. Which, she should’ve already known, since Sansa is part of the North who doesn’t trust outsiders. Dany is mad at Sansa for her snark apparently, and she tells Jon that Sansa needs to respect her Queen or- (But you know, titles don’t matter, right?)
Your sister doesn't like me.
She doesn't know you.
If it makes you feel any better, she didn't like me either when we were growing up.
She doesn't need to be my friend. But I am her Queen. If she can't respect me-
So, Dany feels Sansa doesn’t respect her. Well no, she doesn’t. Because she doesn’t know her, as Jon rightly points out, and because respect is something you earn, it’s not something you just get right off the back, or demand and the same with loyalty. This is also something Davos mentioned this episode as well.
https://youtu.be/hwOOeJxrhL4?t=35
0:35 sec to 1:05 min.
DAVOS: The Northmen are loyal to Jon Snow, not to her. They don't know her. The Free Folk don't know her. I've been up here a while, and I'm telling you, they're stubborn as goats. You want their loyalty; you have to earn it.
It’s repeatedly stated that the Northman don’t know Dany, they don’t trust outsiders. Them not being loyal to or particularly welcoming to her is not a surprise, nor is it something one should expect to evaporate just because a war is coming. Dany is an outsider, and whether she likes it or not, that means she needs to practice patience with these stubborn folks who have their own stories to tell as to why they feel the way they do. Their stories are important for her to understand before passing judgement.
I can understand that there is a big threat out there, but they haven’t been ignoring it. This idea that Sansa and the North are “ignoring the real problems” and focusing on little stuff, is plain incorrect.
Sansa has been working since Jon left to ensure Winterfell’s safety and for the threats to come. Bran Stark has also had no qualms telling people what is up, and Sansa believes in Bran’s visions. He must’ve told her the wall had fallen as Sansa says in this episode that the dead are coming and the wall fell.
As soon as we heard about the Wall, I called all our banners to retreat to Winterfell. Lord Umber when can we expect your people to arrive?
Sansa is not surprised by the information Bran gives Dany because she already knows about it and has taken everything seriously. So, the idea that Sansa doesn’t understand the gravity of the situation is ridiculous. She literally has a seer at her side, telling her how serious it is, and even before Bran came, she was already fully preparing everyone for what was coming.
Point is, just because one understands what is coming, doesn’t mean they shouldn’t or don’t have the right to address other serious issues as well, and it definitely doesn’t mean nothing else matters. And nobody has been saying they won’t fight with Dany, just that they aren’t happy about Jon having given up their home, which is reasonable to be upset about. (Only Glover left as far as we know, everyone else is here, so it stands to reason they are still here to fight, regardless). But let’s keep things clear:
Food storages still matter.
Cersei being untrustworthy still matters.
Jon giving up the North to a stranger still matters.
The future still matters.
Jon bent the knee to Dany, so evidently, the titles mattered enough for him to bend to someone unnecessarily for their future, because he felt they could be a good ruler for it, so it should matter just as much, when his people aren’t happy about his decision to do that and want to choose their own leader for their future.
And Sansa?
Did you bend the knee to save the North or because you love her?
She’s thinking about the food they won’t have should they survive and wants to find a way to solve that before its too late.
She’s thinking about the fact that Cersei cannot be trusted and what happens when the war is done, and their forces are considerably weakened? If Cersei lives, she’ll undoubtedly attack then. Hell, she may sneak attack now.
She’s thinking about how Jon gave the North to a stranger, when he already knew his people fought and died and bled to get it back under their rule. Sansa understands that the people being angry may lead to discord. She is upset that Jon once again made a choice without informing people until it was already done and this is causing further strife.
She’s thinking about the fact that the future isn’t set in stone, but Sansa is fighting all these battles and thinking about all these possibilities, like she’d been taught to do. She isn’t just slinging mud; she’s slinging facts. Jon is right to stress the bigger threat, but he’s not right to ignore or downplay his counselors and his people, just because of this bigger threat and tell them what matters to them, is unimportant.
Again, I don’t know if it’s just bad writing or whatever, but either way, I’m not here for it.
#Sansa Stark#anti-jon snow#anti-daenerys targaryen#not really anti#but more critical#but anti just in case#The North Remembers
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you and all the people in our fandom that is following your theories and being in denial about a very possible tragic ending are just causing that lannister, jonsa stans and stark stans mock us all after the end
Hello anon,
I was going to answer this ask with snark, however, Ithought better of it and I think I’ll turn this into a teachable moment. Whetheryou wish to learn, is up to you.
My experiences in life have helped me develop a think skin.When I was a child I was made fun of because of the way I looked, so I learnednot to care what other people said about me. It took time, but I grew tough. Inmy 20’s I suffered a lot of personal tragedies, I lost my two oldest brothers,my maternal grandparent, an aunt, two uncles, and a cousin. I lost a family memberalmost every year for 10 years, it was crazy. That mental toughness I developedas a child helped me through those tragedies, that and therapy. I decided tolearn from these awful tragedies and that I would live my life to its fullest because,at least in my brothers’ case, theirs had been ended too soon. My therapistonce called be a diamond because I was so tough.
That doesn’t mean that things don’t hurt me, and people can’toffend me, but I have learned how to put things in perspective. I’m not alwayssuccessful but I think I’m pretty good at it. So why am I telling you this veryabridged version of my life story? Because I want you and my followers tounderstand that I can care less what nameless, faceless people on the internetthink about me. Their opinions are inconsequential to my life. If you can learnsomething from my story is that in life you need to be able to take a step backand take stock of what’s truly important to you and what truly matters to you.
I spend a lot of time participating in fandom, it means alot to me. Part of it is the comradery of sharing something I love with otherpeople and of course the other part of it is the characters themselves. I’ve spentalmost 7 years of my life discussing Daenerys Targaryen. I’d like to pridemyself in knowing and understanding the character. I believe that after muchdiscussion and debate of her journey I have a good idea of where it’s allheaded. I ask that you and other respect my opinion, you don’t have to agreewith it by I am entitled to share it, especially because I’m not trying tocause harm to others. I have done countless analysis of both the books and theshow and deductions are based on evidence. So, excuse me if I don’t jump toconclusions about suppose outcomes that have zero evidence to back them up.
Now, I’m sure you are going to use Arya’s killing of theNight King as some sort of barometer for Dan and Dave to take turn the storyaround without any warning and to that I call bullshit. Guess what? Many of usmight not have figured out that’s how things were going to go down, however,some of us did pick up on parts of it. I knew Arya was going to be involved inkilling the Night King and I knew that the dagger needed to be used to removeor destroy in this case, the shard of dragonglass inside the Night King’sheart. I wrote it down in my predictions, you can go and look at them if youwant. The other problem that has been brought up is that this has made Jon andBran’s story useless. However, I will remind you all of a few things, first,the Night King is a show only creation, it doesn’t exist in the books. Second,we are only half way through the season so before we get angry at the waste oftheir arcs maybe we should wait until they unfold completely. Thirdly, and thisis just a minor note, Jon’s book arc actually revolves around his identity. So,you might want to keep that in mind.
The moral of the story here is that the show creators used ashow only creation to create an artificial unexpected moment, that let’s behonest, wasn’t very successful. I don’t mind that Arya killed the night king,but Jon should have been there as well. I won’t even comment on Bran. But, andit’s a big but, the culmination of the arcs of all the protagonist on the show willmatch the culmination of the arcs of their book counterparts. This information comesstraight from George R.R. Martin. I just posted his interview with 60 Minutes wherehe reaffirms this. Any talk of Dan and Dave giving our protagonist anunexpected twist doesn’t really match with the idea that they are getting theirbook ending. Because we know George and he doesn’t do twist for twist sake.
Finally, the shade I’ve been throwing around is directed atall the people who are not only getting anxious by unreliable (at best) leaksbut are spreading their anxiety throughout the fandom. That’s not cool. Youwant to be anxious, go for it, that’s your prerogative but to take that anxietyand spread it everywhere you go is unfair and unhelpful. I am resentful that Iwas unable to enjoy Dany’s badass warrior queen moments of episode 3 because abunch of you had a freak out and got everyone around you riled up. My inbox wasfull of people having anxiety attack because of those leaks, which by the wayhad the leaker backtrack and admit the information came third hand. You want tobe prepared in case Dany dies, fine, that seems reasonable but taking away thejoy of others because you’re feeling miserable is not fine.
After everything that’s happened to me I think I have everyright to be a pessimist, but I’m not. Because I know that despite everything I’velost I’ve still had a good life and that I’ve been lucky in a way others havenot and I can appreciate that. If I choose to see the glass half full is notbecause I’m in denial, it’s because I have perspective.
TTFN
#fandom wank#got wank#about me#i have lived in a world where the glass was empty and it sucked#why would i do that to myself again#good think I'm not a masochist#i like to turn my frown upside down#also i like to throw hands
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Arya Stark and the Green-Eyed Monster Chapter Four: Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop
Rating: T
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Elinor Tyrell/Gendry Waters, Arya Stark/Trystane Martell, background Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Characters: Arya Stark, Gendry Waters, Daenerys Targaryen, Robb Stark, Sansa Stark, Jon Snow, Elinor Tyrell, Hot Pie, Trystane Martell
Summary: Gendry spends his Hogsmeade visit with Elinor at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop.
Here I am, still updating this fic late. Lol. Here’s the original author’s note:
Surprise! I'm still alive.
I'm still riding high from last Sunday's Gendrya scenes, which were everything I never knew I wanted. Of course, they had to give us such lovely interactions with all the characters before they destroy everything this week lol.
But anyway, if you want some pining before our collective imminent deaths on Sunday night, I'm your girl. This chapter is in Gendry's point of view. I hope you guys like it. ;)
As always, thanks to to the wonderful sansapotter for beta-reading. I'd also like to take a moment to thank everyone that has commented, bookmarked, or given kudos to this fic. Seeing all your thoughts and reactions really makes my day. If you've got the time, let me know what you think.
Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five.
Also on AO3.
Chapter Four: Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop
Gendry gazed out beyond the towering cakes that clogged the window display through the frosted window panes of Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop onto the streets of Hogsmeade. Fresh snow blanketed the sleepy village in a sea of sparkling white. A few straggling couples wandered through the street, waiting for tables to open up at the most popular establishments. Gendry spotted his friend Jon exiting Honeyduke's with Sansa. Still no sign of Arya. Gendry sighed, turning his attention back to the laminated menu in front of him.
“Thanks for doing this, by the way. I know it must be hard.”
Lowering his menu, he peered across the table at Elinor.
“I can’t say that enough,” Elinor continued, placing her menu down. “My break-up with Alyn almost destroyed me, but even if this doesn’t end the way I want it to, I’m glad to have met you, and Arya and Hot Pie too.” She squeezed his hand.
"You're welcome," Gendry responded before glancing around the tea shop. Students occupied every nook and cranny of the cramped shop floor. "It sure is crowded today."
“It’s always packed this time of year.” Elinor examined her pink nails.
A slender waitress sidled up to their table which was tucked in the front corner of the tea shop next to the window. “Welcome to Madam Puddifoot’s. My name’s Ros, and I’ll be your server today. Can I get you guys something to start off?”
"I'll have the rose tea and some strawberry shortcake, thank you," Elinor flashed her a dazzling smile.
“And for you?” Ros turned to Gendry.
"Earl Grey and almond cake, please," Gendry answered. Ros scribbled their orders down in a notepad before relieving them of their menus. As she disappeared into the kitchen, Gendry scanned the crowded restaurant again. His gaze landed on a suspicious couple seated near the back of the restaurant that he suspected were Robb and Dany, though it was hard to tell given their ill-fitting wigs and oversized sunglasses. A flash of silvery blonde hair peeked out from behind the girl's wig. A thick red mustache, obviously magicked into existence, covered the boy’s upper lip. Gendry narrowed his eyes at the odd couple. They both waved at him and gave him two thumbs up.
“Why are Robb and Dany sitting in the back corner in disguise?” Gendry whispered across the table.
"Dany said something about ‘moral support' and making sure everything went according to plan when I talked to her this morning," Elinor replied. "But yes, it is a little strange that they’re in such bad disguises.” She examined the odd couple even closer. “Those sunglasses are a little overkill.”
Ros appeared at the table with a tray balanced on her hand, blocking their view of Robb and Dany. "There you are.” She placed a delicate pink teacup and saucer in front of Elinor, before putting a matching set in front of Gendry. "Rose and Earl Grey teas." She completed the set by placing a pitcher of milk in the center of the table between them and then handed them each a slice of cake. “Let me know if you need anything else.” With that, Ros moved onto the next table.
Elinor dropped a spoon of sugar into her steaming cup as Gendry stabbed his almond cake with his fork. The moist cake melted in his mouth, the almond colliding with a hint of vanilla.
“This cake is delicious,” Gendry moaned.
"I know," Elinor sighed. "If this place weren't such a couples spot I'd probably be in here every Hogsmeade trip for the strawberry shortcake alone."
In his periphery, Robb gestured frantically at the door. Gendry raised a quizzical brow as he took a sip of his tea.
“The signal!” Elinor exclaimed. She whipped her head toward the front door. “Alyn must be coming in. Quick, grab my hand.” Gendry almost choked on his tea when she snatched his free hand, holding it tightly. “He’s got one of those dreadful Frey girls on his arm, ugh.” Frowning, she glared daggers at her ex-boyfriend’s unsuspecting date.
“Which one?” Gendry asked, placing his teacup back on its saucer.
Elinor shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.” Her gaze followed Alyn and his date as they trailed after the hostess through the restaurant to one of the tables in the back near Robb and Dany. Alyn held a chair out for the Frey girl. He looked up for a moment, his gaze falling on Elinor.
“Eep,” Elinor squeaked, flushing with anger or longing, Gendry couldn’t tell which, and ducked behind her teacup. Gendry watched the scene with interest, still holding Elinor’s hand. Alyn whispered something in his date’s ear before walking toward them.
“Oh my seven, he’s coming over here!” Elinor panicked, her fingers tensing. She put down her teacup and began to fiddle with a strand of her hair. “What do we do?”
"We follow the plan." Gendry gave her hand a squeeze. "You've got this. You're the best chaser on Slytherin—you've gotten the quaffle past me more times than I can count. You're a great girl, and if he can't see that, then it's his loss."
“You’re right,” she gave him a small smile as she put her hand down.
“Now remember, we’re madly in love,” he winked.
Elinor winked back, letting out a loud chuckle just as Alyn reached their table. He cleared his throat to get their attention. “Elinor, Gendry,” he nodded.
“Oh, hello Alyn,” Elinor greeted him coolly. “I didn’t see you there.”
“I heard a rumor you replaced me; I was just coming to see if it was true.”
"Well, obviously it's false," Elinor snarked, "since Gendry is a much better boyfriend than you ever were." She stroked Gendry's hand, gazing lovingly at his face for good measure.
“Do you love him?” Alyn crossed his gangly arms over his chest, trying to puff it out in an effort to not look like an overgrown beanpole. It wasn’t working.
Elinor froze, unsure how to answer such a question.
“I don’t think that’s your question to ask anymore,” Gendry interjected, fixing Alyn with his iciest glare. “Unless you’ve got something to say to her?”
Alyn gaped like a fish. At last, he uncrossed his arms.
“You’re right,” he said. “I never did deserve you, Elinor; I hope he makes you happy.” He shifted his weight, his gaze drifting to the floor. “Guess I’d better get back to my date. See you around.” With one last longing glance at Elinor, Alyn pivoted back toward his own table.
Elinor waited until he made it to his table before bursting into laughter.
“Did you see his face?” She chortled, slapping the table. “The plan is working perfectly. You,” she raised her teacup to him, “are an excellent actor, my dear fake boyfriend. That bit of overprotectiveness was an excellent touch.”
“Thanks.” They clinked their teacups together.
Ros swung past their table again, carrying a tray of dirty dishes. “I hope everything’s to your liking.”
“Everything is excellent,” Elinor responded.
“Great; here’s the check. I’ll be by to collect it later.” She dropped a tied scroll of parchment on the table. Elinor reached for her purse, but Gendry stopped her hand.
“I’ve got this.” He pulled a few jangling coins from his pocket, dumping them on top of the table.
The bell above the door to the teashop tinkled merrily as Ros sauntered away, heralding the arrival of another couple seeking a warm pot of tea and respite from the cold. Trystane Martell entered the shop, laughing as he stamped the snow off his boots. Arya followed in behind him, her face alight with the biggest smile Gendry had seen from her in weeks. It sent a dagger straight through his heart. While she divested herself of her winter cloak, Arya looked at the restaurant’s various patrons. When she noticed Gendry and Elinor, she froze; her smile disappeared.
“What is it?” Elinor asked.
“It’s Arya. On a date.”
Elinor turned around to wave hello. In response, Arya gave a weak smile before returning to her date. The hostess led them to the last empty table near the door.
“I’m the worst friend. Why can’t I be happy for her?”
Elinor paused, twirling her fork as she ruminated. At length, she said, “You're in love with her, aren't you?”
“Is it that obvious?” Gendry sighed, stabbing his almond cake with more force than necessary. “It doesn't really matter, though; Arya will never see me as anything but a friend.” He popped the cake in his mouth.
“I wouldn't be too sure about that.”
"Clearly she doesn't since she's here with Trystane." He shoveled in another mouthful of cake.
“Gendry, you dolt!” Elinor smacked his arm. “I know I said to keep it a secret, but maybe you should tell her that we're not actually together.”
Gendry paused, fork halfway between his plate and his mouth.
“This charade’s gone on long enough as it is. I was going to suggest we ’break-up’ next week and tell everyone we decided it would be better to stay friends anyway, now that we’ve lasted a while.”
“Are you sure Alyn will want you back?” Gendry took a sip of tea. It would get cold if he didn’t drink it fast enough.
“No, but that doesn’t really matter now. I’m not going to spend my life pining after someone who doesn’t want me. But you,” she poked him in the chest, “you definitely need to tell Arya how you feel.”
“Alright.”
A chair scraped across the floor elsewhere in the shop. The entire restaurant fell silent as they turned to see what the problem was. Arya stood up abruptly, face purple.
“You … you… jerk!” Arya screamed, her fists clenched. Gendry knew that look; he had been on the receiving end many a time. Arya snatched her teacup from the table, hurling the steaming liquid at Trystane’s chest. Without another word, she yanked her cloak off her chair, slinging it over her shoulders as she darted out the front door. The bell above the door rang violently.
Trystane blinked, pulling at his wet sweater.
“I’m going after her,” Gendry told Elinor as he pushed his chair back. Pushing past tables of gobsmack patrons, he whipped on his own cloak.
The bell chimed as he stepped outside into the cold winter air. The freshly fallen snow crunched under his feet. He followed Arya's tracks in the snow down the main street until he lost them among the scuffle. The biting wind nipped his nose, chilling him. He pulled his cloak tighter.
Jon rounded the nearest street corner, arm in arm with Sansa. Gendry jogged up to them.
“Have either of you seen Arya?” he asked.
Sansa pointed down a side road. “I think I saw her running down that way. Is something wrong?”
“Of course,” Gendry whispered to himself as the realization dawned on him. “I’m about to find out,” he told Sansa. He took off at a run down the road that led to the Shrieking Shack. Close-knit houses lined the street at the beginning but began to thin out as he approached the end of the way. The shrieking shack rose up in the distance, past the fence at the end of the road. Arya curled up against the gate, her face hiding behind her knees and a curtain of dark brown hair. At the sound of his footsteps, Arya looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Oh, it’s you,” she sniffled, quickly rubbing the tears from her face. “If you tell anyone you saw me crying, I’ll kill you.”
Gendry laughed.
“My lips are sealed.” He dropped down next to her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not particularly.”
“I know you can handle it yourself, but if you ever need me to beat someone up, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
Arya smiled faintly. Gendry stood up, holding out a hand.
“Come on; let’s get back inside where it’s warm.”
He hefted her up by her icy hand.
“Thanks.”
They walked back down the road in silence, shoulders almost touching. Gendry flexed his hand, itching to hold hers, but put it in his pocket at the last second. The alleyway opened onto a larger street lined with quaint cottages, each blanketed with a cap of pristine snow. A lopsided snowman occupied the corner of the lawn of the last house on the street, where it crossed onto the main road. Gendry laughed.
“That snowman kind of looks like Professor Varys, doesn’t it?” he said, pausing in front of it.
“You’re right,” Arya chuckled. "I feel like it's going to quiz me on the best methods of Occlumency."
“Miss Stark,” Gendry put on his best Varys impression, “what is the difference between—”
Trystane Martell barrelled around the corner, coming to a stop in front of them with a sheepish expression on his face. Arya tensed behind him. Gendry took a protective step forward, blocking Trystane from her view.
“Martell.” Gendry crossed his arms.
“Gendry,” Trystane blanched. “Hi.” He peeked around Gendry’s shoulder at Arya. “Arya, can we talk—” glancing up at Gendry’s stony expression, he gulped before adding, “—alone? I need to apologize.”
Arya answered after a long pause. “I guess.”
"Are you sure?" Gendry asked. "I can still punch him if you want me to."
“It’ll be fine, Gendry,” Arya scoffed, although her eyes told a different story. “Besides, if he messes up again I’ll just punch him myself.”
Trystane smiled faintly.
"Alright," Gendry answered. "I'll be back at the tea shop if you need me."
Arya nodded before following Trystane down the snow-covered street toward the Three Broomsticks. Gendry watched them as Trystane disappeared inside the pub first. Turning around, Arya motioned for him to leave. Gendry nodded. She smiled before heading inside.
With a heavy sigh, Gendry trudged back toward Madam Puddifoot’s and his fake girlfriend, desperately hoping that next week’s break-up wouldn’t be too late.
#gendrya#arya stark#gendry waters#my fic#hogwarts au#jonsa#BUT IT'S IN THE BACKGROUND#daenerys the matchmaker#robb the matchmaker#asatgem#arya stark and the green-eyed monster#madam puddifoot's tea shop
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This Town is Full of Monsters ch. 3
Chapter 1, Chapter 2
Pairing: Ivar the Boneless x Reader Words: 2.2k Summary: Nothing is as it seems anymore. Modern supernatural AU. Warnings: General uneasiness and anxiety, Lagertha has a bone to pick Tagging: @sweetvengeancee @tiyetiye @ceridwenofwales @brightlycoloredteacups @lordavanti @imgoldielikehawn @ivarinleatherpants @dangerousvikings @equalstrashflavoredtrash @dani-si @oddsnendsfanfics + If you’d like to be added to my taglist, just ask!
A/N: Will 2019 be the year I get my shit together and actually post regularly??? We can only hope.
Your grip on the strap of your bookbag is tighter than normal as you walk to class, eyes jumping from one police officer to the next, trying to take some comfort in the sight of so many uniforms patrolling the campus. It has been three days since Ragnar made his announcement and your anxiety is a constant, idle humming in your blood.
While you had known before his announcement -Ubbe calling Hvitserk, Hvitserk calling you-, hearing the chief of police himself confirm that a pair of serial killers were on the loose cemented the events in reality.
While initially you were reassured by his promises of safety and the charismatic ease he used when answering the concerns and questions of reporters, it is seventy two hours later and his words are starting to expire.
The Blacks are near-mythic figures to the majority of the current student population, the foundations of their knowledge being laid by overheard conversations between the adults all those years ago. Eavesdropping on the news reports after their parents had tucked them in, only knowing that all of a sudden they were being told not to go anywhere alone, that stranger danger was being drilled into their heads more than it ever was before.
They were the boogeymen that haunted their childhood nightmares, looming at their windows and hiding under beds and in closets. Many didn’t know the specifics until much later, until the vague curiosity they had always harbored couldn’t be ignored anymore and instead now drove them to fill in the gaps of what happened and why their parents had tried so hard to keep them sheltered from it.
You’ve spent your weekend attached at the hip to Paulina, the two of you taking comfort in numbers and spending more time than ever before in the common room of your dorm and the cafeteria, conveniently surrounded by people and lights.
When Hvitserk told you, you had tried your best to echo Ubbe’s sentiments; that the Blacks were only a theory, that they were too smart to start killing so soon after their escape, too smart to stick to their original hunting ground where people knew their names and knew their faces. But maybe that was why, the conspiratorial side of your mind liked to keep reminding you. They knew the forest probably more than anyone else does.
You shake your head slightly and take a gulp of coffee, hoping to drown those thoughts in caffeine before class starts. The last thing you need to be thinking about is killers hiding in the woods.
That being said, you still text Paulina after you take your seat, the fact that you were letting her know you arrived safely being disguised some offhand comment about how particularly bad the cafeteria coffee is this morning. That has become the new habit between the two of you, letting the other know when you arrive and leave becoming more than just carrying on conversation until you see each other again.
The classroom is uncharacteristically quiet and you try not to focus on it too much as you go about your routine, opening your notebook to a fresh page and clicking your pen. You doodle little three dimensional squares in the corner of the page, stacking them on top of each other while you wait for the professor to show. You arrived a little earlier than usual.
This time when Ivar passes you he doesn’t hit your desk on the way to his own, instead a small scowl etches its way onto his face when he sees you carefully constructing your geometric monstrosity.
“No hangover today? I’m almost proud,” He snarks as he takes his seat, expecting to hear an equally snarky retort in the moments that follow.
“Good morning to you, too, Ivar.” Instead the words are tired on your lips, lacking their usual bite and causing his scowl to deepen. He wants to ask where your usual aggression towards him has gone; what you had to be doing over the weekend to make you unable to fight back as you usually did. Even as sleep deprived as you became during final exams, you always seemed to find the energy to meet him head on. So what’s changed?
“‘Good morning to you, too, Ivar’?” He parrots, mocking incredulity dripping from his voice. “Are you,” He pauses to lean forward, a comically dramatic gasp following the movement and he lowers his voice, speaking softly now as if he’s sharing a secret. “being NICE to me?”
“Not in the mood, Lothbrok.” You try to sharpen the words on your teeth but still they fall short and you don’t give him the satisfaction of looking up. You ignore the disappointed huff behind you, though some small part of you is almost grateful for the brief exchange. Ivar’s attitude, while annoying as ever, is also strangely comforting.
You had barely gotten any sleep in the past few days, convinced that every noise and bump in the night was either some wild animal stalking around for its next meal or the Blacks coming to get you. You are more skittish than you care to admit and your nerves are starting to fray.
But, killers or no, Ivar is still Ivar and you let yourself cling to the normalcy his presence brings. You begin to relax as the class goes on, listening to the little scoffs and the comments he makes almost as much as the actual lecture.
~
“Have you heard anything from your brothers?” Paulina asks as she tucks into her meal, you seated beside her and Hvitserk across the table. He had taken one look at you earlier today when you arrived for your class and declared that you all deserve a break from the atmosphere on campus as soon as possible. The three of you had ended up at Helga’s not long afterwards.
The brunette shrugs, shoveling a forkful of food into his mouth before answering. “Bjorn still thinks it’s the Blacks, Ubbe disagrees.” He says it simply, taking another bite of food as if you aren’t discussing a potential murder. He’s doing his best to be casual, to be the friend that everyone leans on. The last thing he wants right now is for Paulina to see him falling apart.
“Do you really think it’s them?” It’s your turn to speak, morbid curiosity bubbling to the surface to take the place of fear. You hope he doesn’t and that his answer will convince you of the same. Instead what you get is another shrug and an almost disbelieving shake of his head.
“I don’t know,” He exhales heavily, eyes darting as the gears turn in his head. Neither option is ideal, but one is certainly better than the other. He is almost certain he prefers hungry animals making an easy meal of an unlucky student than have two of the most prolific serial killers in the city’s history stalking the forest once again. Either way, the thoughts make him sick to his stomach and he almost stops eating right there.
The table is quiet after that, all retreating into your minds and trying to seek comfort in the cooling food in front of you. It is then that Ivar appears, snickering when he sees the looks on your faces as he slides into the booth next to his brother. “What’s got all your panties in a twist?”
He sees your lips thin in reaction to his presence but otherwise you ignore him for now in favor of pushing your food around on your plate. He almost prefers the side of you that snaps and fights with him, aggravating him. This side of you is...boring, and that is why it’s rankling him. He only misses the outlet you provide.
His eyes roll when none of you answer, the action over exaggerated and punctuated with a loud huff.“You cannot tell me you’re all still worked up over a freshman,” He sighs, reaching over to pluck a bite of food from your plate. You try to stab him with your fork out of reflex, narrowing your eyes at him when he chuckles low in his throat and grins at your efforts. He shoves his spoils into his mouth a moment later.
“Why are you such a cold hearted bastard? Someone died, Ivar.” You can’t resist snapping at him, something inside you finally rallying in the face of his indifference. It feels good to release some of the stress that’s been festering in you, even in the form of anger.
“Why are you so sensitive?” His voice is soft, coaxing, as he leans across the table, eyes bright and grin firmly in place. He knows that you hate it when he uses that tone with you, like he’s trying to lull and soothe you over to seeing things his way. It never fails to escalate the argument further or fluster you, and either is better than how anxiety ridden you’ve been since the body was found.
“I don’t know, maybe it’s because there could be killers in the forest?” You gasp theatrically as if the realization has just occurred to you, hand placed delicately over the base of your throat. Deep down you know the reason why you’ve been so skittish, though you are loathe to admit to Ivar Lothbrok how truly frightened you are. You had been at that party too; you all had. How easily it could have been that you were found the morning after or someone you care for.
Reminders of your admittedly fragile mortality never sit well.
Ivar chuckles again, leans back, and you feel like you can breathe again. He always manages to make you feel like a rabbit facing down a wolf when he looks at you like that, the intensity of his undivided attention nearly making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
“It was an animal attack, I’m telling you.” This time he steals something off of Hvitserk’s plate instead of yours.
“And what if it’s not? You’ve heard what Bjorn-” Hvitserk turns to face his brother only to be cut off.
“Bjorn jumps to conclusions,” Ivar is starting to think he shouldn’t have bothered to show up after Hvitserk texted him. “Do you really think that the Blacks would be stupid enough to start killing again so soon after they escaped?”
“Maybe they can’t help it, or maybe he saw them.” Hvitserk knows he’s only repeating the points Bjorn had already made; what he doesn’t know is if he actually believes them or if he’s only arguing with Ivar for the sake of it.
“And maybe-”
“And maybe the arguing isn’t helping anyone, and we should try to eat in peace.” Paulina cuts in, fixing both brothers with a sour look and not backing down from the glare Ivar settles on her in return. Stress has turned her fearless in the face of his bad attitude; someone was killed less than one hundred feet away from her and he seems suddenly harmless in comparison.
You don’t hide your chuckle when Ivar makes a petulant noise, instead thanking your friend for her excellent suggestion. The conversation begins shifting on to lighter topics and you eat with renewed appetites, Ivar even giving in and ordering a meal instead of picking off others’ plates, making the decision to stay after all.
~
Aslaug is sitting down for lunch when her phone rings. She doesn’t recognize the number, but she rarely does; a consequence of her status more than anything else. You do not get to be one of the top defense attorneys in the area without people knowing your phone number.
“Hello Aslaug, I trust you are well?”
Her lips thin and suddenly the sesame chicken salad sitting in front of her doesn’t seem as appetizing as it had five minutes earlier.
“Lagertha, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Her tone is civil, pleasant even, but not without effort. The two women see enough of each other in the courtroom and Aslaug prefers it that way. She hears the prosecutor chuckle, a low, smooth sound, and her grip on the plastic fork tightens to the point of turning her knuckles white. She is in the comfort of her own office, sat at her own desk, and yet she feels as if she is on the battlefield.
“Ragnar has not told you?” Lagertha clicks her tongue disapprovingly, acting the part of a concerned friend. She rolls a paperweight around in her palms; a cube of crystal with the figure of a lady knight etched inside. A gift from one of her clients after a successful case.
She knows what she’s doing is wrong, even cruel, but she can’t help it. She likes to think herself a champion of women- excluding her old rival from law school and replacement. She is not surprised that her ex husband hasn’t told his estranged wife of the news yet. He’s waiting for her to hear the announcement so he doesn’t have to do it in person.
“Hasn’t told me what?” Aslaug asks, close to grinding her teeth now. Her husband and his first wife are a sore point she can’t seem to shake.
Lagertha sets the paperweight back down on her desk, the edges of her lips beginning to curl in a malicious smile.
“The Blacks have escaped.”
Aslaug snaps her fork in half and hangs up before she can say anything else.
#ivar the boneless x reader#ivar the boneless imagine#vikings imagine#sister wives#ivar's heathen army#mine
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