#and also the little drawing of the mountain with a kings crown over it that grizzly drew specific attention to

[here-there-be-drag0ns]

i was terrified thinking my riptide hyperfix was dying

turns out i just needed to relisten to the black rose pirates oneshot

[leafycasper]

Dwarrowtober Day 9: Duty

Please be gentle with me as this is my first time drawing Fili. Also the first two look awkward bc the angles didn't work out how I wanted. Lastly, this one is sketches since it's four different drawings, and I didn't have time to finish them all. Anyway! Here's a little comic of Fili growing up and fulfilling his duty of taking over the throne. Also one of my biggest head canons is that Fili is in a wheelchair post BoFA. I also like the idea of Thorin and Bilbo sticking around Erebor to rule for a couple decades before passing on the crown and retiring to the Shire. Anyway that's all for a different post another day.

(click for higher quality)

[Text:

When I grow up, I wanna be just like you Uncle Thorin!

I'm sure you will be Fili

I'm so proud of you...

...Fili, King Under the Mountain!]

[haamuart]

You can take this as a random drawings of a 16th century aesthetic lady OR as I originally intended, as a Witcher OC. More under the cut. :D

SO as it reads on the doodle, this is Julia. She is Jaskier's sister, older or younger, this does not matter. Sometimes she is a twin. She is supposed to be very plain looking with a round face and kind of a square jaw, mousy brown hair and plain blue eyes. Her body build is a little heavy and not very shapely, not that it matters under her court clothes.

She originally appeared when I reimagined the Royal! or King!Jaskier prompt. Here's a few notes I remember of it:

Jaskier - sorry Julian - gets a permission to travel around to play his music - sorry, to get more familiar with the people he will rule over one day. Somehow both Julia and their mother manage to persuade the King to agree to this. The agreement includes Jaskier not revealing his true identity, which is NOT an issue.

Julia was always the one more inclined to politics. Jaskier was everything but that.

In the kingdom, everyone (including women and children) are heavily encourages to learn how to fight and warcraft. The country is known for their huge armies and for the fact that every single peasant could best another kingdom's royal knights in a fight. They do not get many visitors, and the King and his advisors prefer it that way.

(Geralt also avoids the place. If they are so good at fighting, they probably can handle their own monsters. This is true for the most part.)

The exception to the everyone-being-masters-of-self-defence are royal women. This might originate in the habit of royal men marrying outsider women, and if all other royal ladies were all for fighting, their wifes might seem less in comparison. Or some bullshit like that.

Julia does NOT like this rule. She, unlike her brother, would very VERY much like to learn how to defend herself and maybe also go on offence. Sometimes. You know, when time calls for it.

So anyway, young Jaskier knew how to physically fight and defend himself, but he just preferred not to. When he got out, he just did not keep his promise of keeping up the practice and forgot mostly everything. In some ways, initially, it is always a way to separate his Emotionless Crown Prince persona and what he truly wants himself to be.

Julia, sometime when Jaskier is away, gets more into politics even against his parents wishes. However, since there are no other children and Jaskier is away, they do not have a good reason to forbid her.

(Julia also manages to persuade one of her personal bodyguards (who also happens to be head of the royal guard) to teach her. They also might be slowly falling in love with each other but neither is willing to initiate anything.)

Anyway. After The Mountain

Jaskier hears his father has died. His father was still young, so Jaskier suspects it might not be normal. Or maybe he developed an illness? He wants to know for sure to satisfy his curiosity and worry, and he does not currently feel like he has anything else important to do. Might as well take a look.

(The father dying part is direct inspiration from another King!Jaskier story)

He does not expect to stay.

So heartbroken Jaskier packs his meagre belongings and goes on a long trip back to the kingdom that just might be his now.

When Jaskier- sorry, Julian- gets back to the capital, it is a mess. His subjects are worried, confused and scared, and a lot of rumours are flying. No one seems to know anything for a fact, and the royal palace has not output any official announcements.

Jaskier gets to the palace, is greeted by his sister and is promptly informet what happened.

What happened is thus:

The king indeed is dead. He had been assassinated. The court is not yet in shambles, but they are not agreeing on who did it. Everyone is blaming each other. Their mother is grieving, and refuses to do anything useful. She is supposed to be the regent.

Julia has been doing a lot of the work of running the kingdom, but officially she is powerless, and some advisors try to use this against her. She has to keep claiming the orders came from her mother, who she is supposedly comforting. In truth, she has barely set a foot in her mother's rooms.

Julia cries many tears of frustration that night, and Jask- Julian wishes he could too. He is already starting to feel his emotions numb, just like the last time he was here.

Julia is sure she knows who the true assassin was. The man would not shame himself in commissioning a kill when he can do it himself. She has tried to put the blame on him, but somehow it never sticks, For an instant she thinks Jaskier will be the same, but he is not. He takes everything she tells him in carefully and makes sure to remember. She has missed his brother.

So they talk for hours, and the next day, Jaskier makes an appearance at the court and promptly informs them that he will be crowned the next day.

The plot continues with Jaskier/Julian being crowned and then publically executing the guilty man. Julian slowly starts to struggle with anxiety and some symptoms of depression due to the atmosphere in the palace plus the fact that he is in a situation he desperately never wanted to be in even if he always knew it would come inevitably. He practically drugs himself every night just to calm down, and the effects last long enough that he manages get through the morning audience and some meetings. During this time he trusts Julia to make sure he never agrees to anything he would not with a clear head. He is not fine.

In the evenings, Julian, Julia, Julia's beau and maybe some others have a private meetings without most of the late King's advisors. They talk about what came up in the morning audience, what rumours everyone has heard etc. Some days, however, Julia just holds Julian as he cries.

Julian gives Julia an official permission to carry a sword because he knows she can handle it already. She can also finally start practicing outside, which is a relief. Julian himself also reluctantly starts practicing again. He hates it. In his clearer moments, Julian (or maybe this time Jaskier) drops hints both to Julia and her crush that they should maybe do something more than noticing how fetching the other is. It did not take him long to take notice of their respective crushes.

I was never sure what happened after this! Somehow Geralt, Yennefer and Ciri come across Jaskier, they hash things out, get into some epic plot and then ride into the sunset after Julia has been crowned the queen.

Sometimes there was also a plotline in which the royal guard use a little magic called "the shadow technique", which in practice includes having your hands tattooed, and pinching certain places together allows you to move faster, get blended in the shadows, and idk maybe something else too. Julia was never allowed to get the tattoos no matter how dearly she hoped, and as Jaskier is now the king, he knows he will have to. However, he is scared because he does not know how it will affect his playing. He tries to postpone it as much as he can but then something changes his mind so he agrees to the process when Julia is out for a patrol. She is mad at him and sad that she could not be here to comfort him for the pain.

[ancestorsofjudah]

2 Kings 8: 25-29. "16."

Ahaziah was the son of Ahab, "the fraternity bros" and Jezebel the whore no one else wanted, and this produced naught that was good.

No one would have cared if the king married a whore and whored around if he did his job. They would have wondered when the other shoe was going to drop but the number of concerns about his ability to do his job well would have been limited by the extent of his shallow judgement which all of us but must be overcome, but especially royalty.

Ahaziah means to "Grasp God" as much as it means "grasp at whatever one sees." Zaha, a pallindrome which Hebrew is rich in, means "to be ready to deliver."

"It's not clear whether the verb זהה (zaha) or זתת (zatat) ever existed but if it did it probably meant to emerge fresh or bloom (it does so in cognate languages).

Note that a flower contains a plant's reproductive organs and by displaying its flowers a plant indicates its willingness and readiness to reproduce. In our modern times flowers have managed to attain a kind of romantic innocence but their native function and original symbolism is that of sexual union (which is why dudes bring flowers), or rather more general: the willingness and ability of being fruitful.

 The blossoming of the olive tree was a sign that the winter was over and spring (ziv) had arrived."

To sieze what one wants without the motivation or skill to produce is anathema to the idea of kingship or the role of the Male Crown Princess. Zahaziel would be better, but him we have yet to find. We do meet Hazael, however, who shows promise.

Ahaziah King of Judah

25 In the twelfth year of Joram son of Ahab king of Israel, Ahaziah son of Jehoram king of Judah began to reign. 

26 Ahaziah was twenty-two years old when he became king, and he reigned in Jerusalem one year. His mother’s name was Athaliah, a granddaughter of Omri king of Israel. 

27 He followed the ways of the house of Ahab and did evil in the eyes of the Lord, as the house of Ahab had done, for he was related by marriage to Ahab’s family.

28 Ahaziah went with Joram son of Ahab to war against Hazael king of Aram at Ramoth Gilead. The Arameans wounded Joram; 

29 so King Joram returned to Jezreel to recover from the wounds the Arameans had inflicted on him at Ramoth[c] in his battle with Hazael king of Aram.

Then Ahaziah son of Jehoram king of Judah went down to Jezreel to see Joram son of Ahab, because he had been wounded.

Ahaziah and Joram try to reach Ramoth Gilead, "the Pomegranate Eye of the Fountain", AKA Ha Shem. Joram means "whom Ya exalts" but it can also mean "who exalts himself", like Rameses, a little pharaoh god, a confederate.

Why do unspirited men seek the power of the Lord? And how can they? Why do losers and lighthead dimwits always try to climb the mountain and draw all kinds of attention to themselves, to their iniquities instead of to the milestone accomplishments explained in the Torah?

Hazael at Aram, "the Vision From the High Place" meets the dumbasses and there is a fight. Ahaziah is wounded and returns to base. A wound from combat is a sign God's prohibitions against violence are being violated. Why is the King of Judah wounded then? How could this possibly have happened?

The scripture says he was prone to evil, jealousy, which is just a kind of greed consumed him. That is how it happened.

The Gematria for the above verses are:

v. 25: The Value in Gematria is 5998, הטטח, "The Thrashing."

Without thrashing, the dehulling of the grain, the soul cannot imbibe the teachings of the Torah. Of any religion for that matter. The Torah acknowledges we all want to be big slutbuckets, and for a time that is not so bad provided we don't get hurt or hurt anyone else in the process, but the Law says what our hearts really want is to be recognized and consumed by just one other.

If one aspires to become royalty one is going to have to learn to consolidate the immense power of this fire of consumption and take it to the limit and ambit to the conquest of the world using it. Otherwise, love, sex, and all those boys are just fizzle in the pizzle.

All the great leaders in the world had a greater man (or woman) than they in their behind. Behind them, I mean. This cannot be taken for granted.

v. 26:

Athaliah= to wax and then be taken away by the lion of justice

Omri=what is gripped by God as in fallen grain.

The Value in Gematria is 10486, ידחו‎‎,"I will reject." A Jew, especially the King cannot defect to another faith. Jezebel and Ahab were pagans, they no doubt raised their children and their children's children in pagan ways:

v. 27: The Value in Gematria is 8368, חג‎ו‎ח, "holiday." They did not observe Shabbat. They were violent tyrants that did nothing for their people but cause them heartache. Even still their kids thought they should attain to the Highest.

v. 28: The Value in Gematria is 8488, חדחח‎, a lol, a worthless thing.

Across two root groups — אלל ('ll) and אול ('wl) — the Hebrew language seems to insist on a direct relationship between oaks and foolishness/worthlessness, although the connection might simply lay in the act of protruding: a tree protrudes up in the air, a foolish person protrudes from convention, and a worthless item protrudes from the economy of useful things.

Then there are two roots יאל (y'l), of which one is comparable to one of the two roots אול ('wl), while the other denotes the showing of willingness or determination:

v. 29: Jezreel =what the nation sows is what it grows.

The verb זרע (zara') means to scatter seed or to sow but may even describe merely extending one's arm or even a leg and ultimately signify the bearing of fruit or even children (hence referred to as one's seed).

Nouns זרע (zera') and זרוע (zerua') mean a sowing or that which is sown, and may refer to: seed, sperm, one child, offspring, posterity, family or a whole community. Nouns זרע (zeroa') and זרען (zer'on) specifically denote vegetables. And noun מזרע (mizra') literally means a place or agent of sowing.

Nouns זרוע (zeroa') or זרע (zeroa') or אזרוע ('ezroa') mean arm but are mostly used to figuratively to denote the seat of strength of a person or a nation or even of God.

זרה

Noun זרה (zara) also means to scatter but where זרע (zara') scatters seed to bear fruit, זרה (zara) scatters chaff and debris. It means to winnow. Noun מזרה (mizreh), describes place or agent of scattering, which in this case denotes a winnowing fork.

Jehoram= "in the name of God, the Most High", are you ripe or are you rotten?

The Value in Gematria is 13397, יגג‎טז‎, 16. The sixteenth letter of the Alefbeis is Ayin, which means "be sixteen, act like you are seventy", AKA be humble.

"In his opening address to the Academy, Rabbi Elazar ben Azaryah said:11 “I am like a seventy-year-old man and I had never succeeded in proving that one has to recite the [verse about] going out of Egypt [in the third paragraph of the Shema] at night until I found the words of Ben Zoma, who explained the verse ‘Remember going out of Egypt all the days of your life’ as follows:

Why does the verse include the word ‘all’? It seems to be redundant. Therefore, Ben Zoma explains, ‘The “days of your life” means the daytime. “All” comes to include the nights as well.’ The Rabbis add to the words of Ben Zoma, ‘The “days of your life” refer to the days of this world, the world in which we’re presently living. All the days, however, includes the days of Mashiach.’”

[stick-named-figure]

quick post on the music in episode 22: parkour.

i have work i need to be doing but i can't stop thinking about the music here. it's not a complete analysis, there's a call that's repeated but i'm not sure why and i need to find out.

so first of all, i look like this right now. remember i don't care whether an artistic choice was an accident or a non-choice. no just blue curtains in this house.

anyway. this episode does REALLY well with music. scott buckley did a great job on the score. i'll give buckley a handshake and a trophy any day of the week.

use the video as needed, because i'm going to be providing timestamps.

the start of the music is really nice. i'm not sure what quality it is but it sounds a lot like the older minecraft music. the quiet marimba just hits different.

anyway. green is the first one to notice that something's wrong. green's very observant, but that observation also seems to be directly connected to purple. the running melody that appears at 0:44 is on a clarinet, the instrument that's directly tied to green. it comes to a peak as red tries to jump over the piglin and moves into a string section's part, though i can't tell whether it's a violin section or a viola. might just be a "string section" sound.

i don't have much to say about that part (musically. i have plenty of autism i need to get out about how the stick figures handle themselves in this entire video, but that's going to be 30 minutes worth of reading time stuff), because the real reason i wanted to write this post is the part where king is revealed.

at 1:48, purple walks towards king as a much slower ascending violin section plays. it slows as king is revealed fully. there's a cute little reference at 2:06 to "in the hall of the mountain king" by edvard grieg as king has purple show off the minecraft maps with king's plan on them. obviously the crown and everything tells us what king is, but the musical nod is nice too.

anyway the post is about that melody at 1:48. it only plays fully once, it's a four bar melody. every other time it plays it's cut short or modified. the next time we hear it is at 2:45, as orange decides to jump off the platform. the music as orange runs through the looping section goes hard btw.

after that, there's more musical build up as the screen reveals what the place the stick figures are in actually looks like. that reveal makes me go wild. really good. also king's reveal. that goes crazy.

also the dead silence as it's shown king's been drawing little pictures for AT LEAST 4 minutes straight is so fucking funny. purple is bored out of their fucking mind watching this old guy draw for 4 minutes.

the imperial march rhythm at 5:08 is nice too. king later uses "forceHold" on green. that's not an actual command. it's just a reference to star wars.

the real exciting part is when purple tries to take off at 5:30, where that melody comes back again, and is again cut short as green tackles purple back down. it's cut short at the same point as when orange decided to jump off the platform, but this time there's a response, a descending violin section. ascension and descension are very important melodic types for purple, and i'll talk about that later when i can spare the time to finish my essay on episode 29.

the fourth time we hear it is at 5:50, when purple tries to take off and nearly escapes. the start is a bit muddled, but it's only 3 bars, an incomplete resolution for the melody we've been presented.

this melody is purple's. it's not their motif (that's in episode 29), and it's not king's, because king only gets the one usage of the melody. it plays fully when purple believes they've succeeded in the tasks that king has given them.

it's cut short when orange is the first one to escape the platform. it's cut short when green grabs them, and it's cut short again when green stops them.

it's a very good usage of theme. i really hope that motifs keep showing up in the ost because i love tearing them apart. yes i was into undertale.

[thatharringrovehoe]

Mob AU Nancy and Steve ✨friendship✨!!!

- Nancy Wheeler introduced herself to Steve Harrington in sixth grade. Cuz Steve was handsome and more charming than any eleven year old had any right to be and Nancy's mother had taught her that it's important to secure your future at a young age. And while she wasn't going to enter into a marriage of convenience, she was definitely vying for a spot in King Steve's court. Because this Nancy is.. not bad. But spoiled. Accustomed to a certain lifestyle. Isn't used to being told no. Watched her mother wilt under the weight of a loveless and stagnant union with her father. So she wants her own power. And that means making friends with Hawkins royalty.

- Steve imidiatly likes her. Sees her bushy curls and sharp teeth as she holds out her tiny bird bone hand. She's got a firm grip. Got fire in her eyes. Steel in her spine. He's pretty sure Nancy could take Steve's crown if she really wanted. But Nancy doesn't want to rule. She wants freedom. Freedom to say and do and be whoever she wants. And Steve? Steve can respect that.

- They didn't really become friends until a year later on Steve's birthday. It was expected that Steve's parents wouldn't be home. Wouldn't call. Wouldn't bother to send a gift since they had scheduled an extra bit of cash in the monthly payment for the account they had opened for him. And while Steve would throw large parties in highschool later, right then he was only twelve. All alone in an empty castle. So it was a suprise when the doorbell rang. And there stood Nancy Wheeler, dressed in her Sunday best and holding a truly hideous birthday cake. Lopsided and crumbly, with a "happy birthday Steve" written in neon green icing because that was the only color she could find before her mother discovered what she was doing. It's burnt all to hell and Steve's got tears in his eyes because he knows Nancy HATES baking. Had never taken to it no matter how hard her mother tried. So it's no surprise that Karen Wheeler has a back up cake in the backseat of her car that she's parked in Steve's driveway. And as delicious as it is, he likes Nancy's better. Keeps the hand drawn card she made him in a place of honor up on his bedroom wall.

- They grow up being each other's cheerleader. Steve doesn't brush Nancy off when she tells him she wants to enter into politics. He thinks she has exactly what it takes. Pitties the poor idiot who thinks they can take on Nancy Wheeler in a debate. And Nancy doesn't bat an eye when Steve tells her he likes boys just as much as girls. Sits with him at lunch sipping her juice box as they rank the boys in their class from hot to not.

- And you see Tommy is 100% Steve's guard dog. But while Tommy protects the body, Nancy protects the Kings heart. Because that's Steve's only weakness. He loves so easily, so deeply. Is a gentleman to a fault. Will never use his influence and power against someone he's taken to bed. And that proves to be a bit of a problem because it means people try to take advantage. Means that people lie to get what they want from Steve. And Nancy? Nancy HATES bullshit like that. Can snuff it out like a bloodhound from a mile away. And when she finds it. Boy howdy you better fucking run. Cuz Nancy Wheeler is good at cutting people down. Is almost as good as Jonathan when it comes to finding secrets. But she likes to twist them. Make a mountain out of a mole hill that sets your reputation on fire. Steve doesn't encourage this. But he also doesn't put a stop to it.

- Nancy knows Steve is in love with Billy Hargrove before he does. Knows the signs. Watches him fall fast and hard. And at first she brushes it off. Just another in the long line of flings for Steve Harrington. Bright and explosive like a firework and over just as quickly. But before long she catches her mistake. Because this isn't a firework so much as it's a forest fire. All encompassing and dangerous. She doesn't want to watch Steve get burned.

- But she also watches Billy hold Steve's hand under the table in the cafeteria even though he's shaking. Sees this angry boy go soft for her best friend. And she can spot the bruises. Knows through Jonathan where they came from. Knows Billy still risks it all just for Steve. Because he loves Steve maybe almost as much as she does.

- Steve and Nancy have ALOT in common but are total opposites in other areas. Because while they're both dominant in personality they differ in how they show it. Steve is possessive. Doesn't like anyone LOOKING at Billy let alone flirting with him. Will cover his neck in hickies and buy him new clothes as if to say "This is MINE. Do not fucking touch". But then Nancy? Nancy likes to show off what's hers. Knows that even if people vyed for Jonathan's attention like they do Billy's it wouldn't even matter. Because Jonathan is GONE for Nancy Wheeler. She has him on a long leash but she yanks it sharp whenever she feels like it. No one else gives it to him like she does. No one else will take him under the bleachers and edge him till he cries so so pretty. No one will scratch claw marks into his back till he bleeds so right. And no one will put him back together so perfectly. Card their fingers through his hair. Tell him they love him for everything he is. Even the weird parts. And she means it.

- Mike Wheeler respects Steve Harrington. Because it's because of him that El is in school with the party instead of locked away in Hopper's cabin or a lab cell. Has been babysitting Mike and his friends for years with Nancy. Never once made fun of any of them for their DnD campaigns. And he suspects Steve is probably the reason him and his friends NEVER get bullied.

- Karen Wheeler DOES NOT flirt with Billy. Just. No. The Duffer Brothers did her so fucking dirty. Karen DOES cheat on her husband though. Like. Alot. (WITH CONSENTING ADULTS). Ted doesn't notice. Steve doesn't think highly of her. Above all else hates disloyalty. Watched his mother's heart break with every one of his father's sordid affairs so while he can see why she feels unsatisfied, he can't respect her.

- Nancy was going to give Billy the shovel talk but every time she tries, Max shows up out of nowhere snarling. Cuz Steve isn't the only one with a protector. Looks at this little spitfire who's ready to put Nancy's head on a pike for her brother. Reminds her so much of Nancy herself at that age. A little girl who will not bend. Isn't afraid to get blood in her teeth. It's the reason Max hasn't threatened Steve. They have a mutual respect. And as those two idiots fall deeper and deeper in love they worry less about heartbreak. Find a comradery in each other. Max teaches Nancy how to skate board while Nancy shows Max how to draw eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man.

- Billy was really jealous of Nancy at first because her and Steve are so close. Was convinced Billy was just a distraction while Steve waited for Nancy to get bored of Jonathan. This resolves itself when Billy accidentally walks in on Nancy riding a tied and gagged Jonathan's in the photo development room and the tone that she uses when she tells Billy to lock the fucking door on his way out makes it obvious that Nancy and Steve are NOT compatible in that way. Billy will never admit it but he is low key intimidated by Nancy Wheeler. Steve laughs so hard he shoots soda out of his nose when Billy tells him about it.

[alj4890]

All Through The Night

A Choices: The Royal Romance Dark AU fanfiction. 

A/N Other than my few Bloodbound shorts, I’ve never written anything with supernatural overtones before. After receiving requests to see Liam and Riley’s story if he was a vampire, this storyline was born. Since it is set in one of my favorite books from Pixelberry, I had to include as many of the main and supporting characters as I could. The following chapters will explain more where they and what our main characters are. Not going to lie, I am very anxious to step out of my comfort zone for this, but I’m also super excited to see how it goes. Along with The Royal Romance, I will be referencing and altering both The Crown and The Flame and The Royal Masquerade.

@gkittylove99​​ @krsnlove​ @kingliam2019​ @texaskitten30​ @yourmajesty09​ @mom2000aggie​ @ofpixelsandscribbles​ @twinkleallnight​ @lodberg​ @twinkleallnight​ @amandablink​ @neotericthemis​  @mm2305​ @sfb123​ @iufilms​​ ​ ​

Masterlist

Prologue

Once upon a time...

"Father!" Zenobia rushed down the stairwell. "Kenna is at the gates!"

King Luthor's frown deepened as he studied the places his troops had been destroyed. His hope to unite the five kingdoms and wipe off the abomination was for naught.

Kenna would not stop until he and his surviving offspring's heads were on pikes.

...until their blood filled the crystal goblets of the Dark Queen.

"What do we do?" His son, Diavolos, asked.

Luthor knew it was only himself Kenna wanted. After he had killed her mother, hoping to stop the monsters once and for all, Kenna would have her revenge.

If only he had known that she was a vampire...just like her mother.

"Listen carefully." His voice trembled at this possibly being the last time he was able to speak to his son and daughter. "A Nevarkis must always be ready to fight the creatures that prey on the weak and vulnerable."

"But..." Zenobia sniffed. "How? How can we possibly kill the unkillable?"

"She can be killed just like her mother before her." Luthor snapped. "Sunlight. A dagger to the heart. Cutting the head off." His features hardened with resolve. "Know that those are our true allies. Continue your training with daggers. Never stop being vigilant. Educate your children. And remember: where there's one vampire, many more lie in wait in the shadows."

Diavolos stepped forward and gripped his father's shoulder. "We will fight for you."

"No." Luthor corrected. "Fight for our people. The innocent. Fight for a chance to live without fear of monsters."

He cleared his throat. "If I should die--"

"Don't say that!" Zenobia screeched. "We'll be--"

"Kenna is coming for me." Luthor interrupted. "I know I must face the consequences of my actions."

"But--" Divalos lowered his head. "What are we to do?"

"Kill her." Luthor ordered. "Let your emotion be your strength." He took their hands. "And remember that a vampire is nature's evil incarnate. They will do whatever they want and kill anyone who they think is in their way." His voice turned to pleading. "Kill Kenna before she has a chance to kill you."

Zenobia nodded in a jerky manner. Diavolos swallowed with tears in his eyes.

"Good. Now prepare yourselves." Luthor pulled his sword from its sheath. "The devil herself is here."

*****************

Two years later...

Kenna cuddled her infant son, humming a lullaby.

Dom came in, a soft smile gracing his lips at the sight of his family.

"How are we this evening?" He asked, placing a kiss first on her lips then one on his son's forehead.

"A little fussy." Kenna explained. "But otherwise perfect."

"Good." Dom stretched then went to stoke the fire. "I will be going out later tonight."

Kenna's head jerked up. "Why? Are there more rumors?"

He nodded, a determined frown formed on his lips. "The Nevarkis brats refuse to let us live in peace." He moved to stand before the window that looked out toward the kingdom he had once lived in.

High in the mountains, the couple and those like them had found sanctuary. They built a kingdom, one of darkness and shadow that allowed them to live freely. He and Kenna were crowned the rulers, chosen by their people...those that were cursed as monsters.

"Si and I will be standing guard." He explained. "I will not risk you or our child."

"Dom..." Kenna pulled him close, capturing his lips in a long tender kiss. "This must end. I was foolish to let my need for revenge take over." Tears sparkled in her eyes. "Luthor might have left us alone if I had given him a chance."

Dom's face contorted into furious hatred. "A Nevarkis can never be trusted!" He gripped her waist, hands heating as he lost his temper. "He would have plunged a dagger into your heart the first chance he had."

"Dom." She said softly when he singed her clothes.

He wrenched his hands from her with a grimace. "I didn't burn you, did I?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine." She tried to lighten the mood. "Just a little overheated."

He took deep breaths to get himself under control. "Stay here where it is safe." His eyes searched hers. "Have you fed recently?"

"No, but I should be fine until you return." Kenna lifted a bottle with blood for their son. "I can call on one of the servants to help me if I need to."

"Promise me you won't go outside." He pleaded.

"Only if you promise to come back to me." She responded.

His lips quirked in that cocky smile she has always adored.

"Always, my queen." He kissed her once more, then slipped out the door to search out their enemies.

******************

Present Day New York...

"Cordonia...land of both beauty and mystery." Riley wrinkled her nose. "Boring."

"No, it isn't." Hana argued. "I think that is the perfect beginning."

"Look at the comments from our last video." Riley swiveled her laptop so her friend could see. "People love our walkthroughs and all but hate my narration."

"Well..." Hana's brow furrowed. "Maybe we should try to add more to it than just narration." She pulled out some sketches. "We could add some animation of the history before showing our footage of the country."

"That might work." Riley mumbled, tapping her pen against her notebook.

The two set to work planning their next project.

After years of trying, they had finally achieved their dream of traveling for a living. The two college friends had taken every class they could on how to make their hopes into a reality. With Riley's love of history and business and Hana's talent with art and fashion, the pair had created a successful travel channel that showcased rarely visited countries and cities around the world.

Hana took care of all the shopping and dining found at their chosen destinations. Her "day trips" were hailed as must see for anyone planning a vacation. Riley took over for what could be found at night. Myths and legends blended in with what could be discovered once the sun set. A place's nightlife was thoroughly researched and reached a wide variety of their audience, causing many to plan a vacation just on her recommendations alone.

"Did your mom suggest where we should go first?" Riley asked, after skimming the same few articles about the elusive country.

"Not really." Hana hedged.

Riley glanced up. "Is she giving you a hard time again?"

"Yes." Hana slumped in her chair. "She told me to call when I was done playing tour guide."

"Geez." Riley grumbled. "Does she not realize that we have created a legit business?"

"Ladies shouldn't be involved in anything that does not pertain to their husband and family." Hana quoted. "I was supposed to have my debut to Cordonian society last year." Angry tears filled her eyes. "She still hasn't forgiven me for missing out on the Masquerade Ball."

Riley wrapped her in a comforting hug. "I'm sorry."

Hana patted her back. "Don't be. I finally feel like I can accomplish anything."

"That's because you can." Riley sat back with a grin. "Especially with planning out what we should focus on first."

Hana giggled as she went to search out some of her old books she had inherited from her grandparents. "These might help you with your part."

Riley's eyebrows lifted over the titles. "The Crown, the Flame, and The Night Queen."

"That is the earliest recorded story of vampires and monsters in Cordonia." Hana explained. "Queen Kenna Rhys and King Luthor Nevarkis both fought over uniting the kingdoms that make up Cordonia." She shook her head in disbelief. "There is a legend that Queen Kenna was a vampire that married a man who could transform into a dragon."

"For real?" Riley eagerly opened the book. "What happened?"

"Luthor died." Hana reached for another history book. "Some say it was a sword fight while others say she ripped his throat out with her fangs."

"Whoa. Either way, she sounds pretty epic."

"His son got revenge though." Hana flipped to another chapter. "He sneaked in one day and supposedly dragged Kenna into the sunlight. Before her husband could save her, she burned to ash."

"Brutal." Riley shivered. "What did the dragon do?"

Hana shrugged. "Supposedly he left with their child to protect him." She pointed at some drawings rendered from the Dark Ages. "Kenna's son came back to extract revenge. He eliminated one entire side of the Nevarkis family tree."

"And let me guess," Riley picked up another book. "The remaining Nevarkis's struck back?"

"It's supposedly been a feud for centuries between the Nevarkis and the Rhys' families." Hana pulled up an image on her phone. "Though one is currently ruling Cordonia."

Riley studied the image. "Queen Olivia Nevarkis. Looks like the Rhys lost the throne."

Hana shrugged. "There's a myth that they still rule Cordonia from the shadows."

"Mythical royal vampires, huh?" Riley laughed at the thought. "I hope I bump into one just so I can figure out who's really in charge."

Hana giggled at the thought. "You would be the only person to ask a logical, government question instead of the usual, whoa you're a real live vampire!"

Riley threw a pillow at her. "Hey! I can be calm and collected when faced with the unknown."

Hana threw the pillow back. "Tell that to the supposed haunted house we visited on our last trip." She broke out into laughter with Riley's defense that squeaking doors were the true villains. "On that note, I'm going to start packing. Our flight leaves first thing in the morning."

"I'll be ready." Riley promised.

Once alone, she flipped to a more current timeline of the supposed Dark Kingdom.

King Constantine Rhys the Third rules over what is his rightful kingdom. Rumors swirl that he is simply biding his time until he can eliminate the usurper, Queen Olivia Nevarkis, First of Her Name. The people know that one day, a Rhys will sit upon the throne, uniting the Dark Kingdom and Cordonia once and for all.

****************

Cordonia's Royal Palace, 2 a.m.

"Heeeerah! Olivia threw her daggers as hard as she could while doing a roundhouse kick.

The blades struck into the chest, head, and groin of the makeshift dummy.

She brushed the few strands of red hair that had escaped her hair clip out of her eyes. With a great deal of scrutiny, she studied her dagger placement.

"The one to the head needs to go deeper."

She spun around with a start at that all too familiar voice.

"You're late." She folded her arms and tapped her foot.

Liam rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry. Had to stop off for a quick bite."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "That's not funny."

"Not that kind of bite." He teased, holding up a styrofoam box.

"Oh." She blinked in surprise. "I forget that you enjoy normal food too."

He chuckled at that. "There are certain foods that I don't think any man could ever give up."

Olivia decided to ignore that as she wiped the sweat from her face and neck. "Now that you're here, let's get the formalities over with."

"Very well." Liam gestured toward her. "You may go first."

She sat down on a bench lining one side of the palace gym. She motioned for him to join her.

"Not you!" She hissed when she saw his all too familiar guard.

Drake Walker bristled at her tone. His brown eyes clashed with her green.

"Give us a moment, please." Liam asked him.

"Don't let your guard down." Drake warned. "Remember, she's a Nevarkis."

Olivia tensed. "Perhaps you should remember what happened the last time you said something like that."

She quirked one eyebrow at the man and felt a sense of glee when he winced in memory.

His hand automatically drifted to his side where one of her daggers had once struck true.

With a quick bow to Liam, Drake stepped back out into the hallway.

Liam shook his head. "Are you two ever going to get along?"

"Stop talking stupid." Olivia snapped. "Now then, as you know...I must have my revenge."

"I know." Liam folded his arms and leaned casually against a column.

She eyed him for any sign of hatred.

It drove her crazy how unvampiric he could be.

He seemed almost human.

He seemed...kind.

A vampire is nature's evil incarnate. You can never trust a Rhys.

Those words had been drummed into her skull by her parents and then her aunt after their deaths by Constantine's hand.

And yet...Liam had done the unthinkable.

He had actually been a friend to Olivia.

*************

The night after her parents' funeral, five year old Olivia had been sitting alone before the fireplace, weeping over them.

Her aunt had left her to deal with her own grief and to plan the next attack upon Constantine.

As she searched for a tissue, Olivia jumped back with a shriek at the little blonde haired boy that held the Kleenex box.

His eyes were filled with unshed tears as he handed her a tissue.

"Who are you?" She asked, remembering that a Nevarkis must always be brave.

"I'm Liam." He explained. "I wanted to...I wanted to tell you I'm sorry about your parents." He sniffed and took a tissue for himself. "My mom died too."

Olivia blinked and took a cautious step forward. "Are you...are you a vampire?!"

He nodded.

She whipped out the dagger her mother had given her and rushed at him.

Liam moved faster than she could comprehend, gently keeping her hand above her head.

"Let go of me, monster!" She ordered. "You're why I'm all alone!"

"I didn't do anything." He told her, anguish taking over his handsome features. "I don't want to hurt you or anyone."

"Liar!" She snapped. "That's what you do. Lie and kill." Her tears ran faster down her cheeks. "And now you'll kill me."

"I won't." He promised. "I swear I won't hurt you." He ignored his own tears trickling down his cheeks. His blue eyes burned with resolve. "My mother made me promise never to hurt a human."

Olivia shook her head. It had to be lies. Isn't that what vampires and monsters do? Lull you into letting your guard down so that they could have an easy kill.

"Your father will pay for what he did." She said, hoping to see his true, evil nature. "He must die!"

"I know." Liam slowly released her and took a step back.

Olivia watched in surprise as he sat down before her fireplace and pulled out a silk blue ribbon from his pocket.

He motioned for her to join him.

She slowly lowered herself down, dagger poised in her little fist in case he made a move.

"May I have your hand, please?" He asked.

He patiently waited on her to decide whether or not to give it to him.

She tentatively placed her hand in his.

His lips turned up into a relieved smile as he wrapped the ribbon over their joined hands.

"What are you doing?" She asked, lowering her dagger.

"Making a bond." He explained. "I, Liam Rhys, Crown Prince of the Dark Kingdom, promise to never seek out revenge and to end all vendettas against the Nevarkis family." His blue eyes held her green. "Just as my mother, Queen Eleanor wanted me to."

Oliva's lips parted. "You mean it?"

"I do." Liam's voice held a great deal of sincerity. "I would rather walk into the sun than not do as she asked."

"Oh." Olivia sniffed. She could understand that kind of devotion.

"Do you," Liam's cheeks colored. "Do you think we can be allies?"

"A Nevarkis will never be friends with a monster." She repeated the rhetoric that she knew by heart.

"But," Liam's shoulders slumped. "We're not all bad."

"All monsters are bad at heart."

"I'm not." He pouted. "I don't want to be."

"You're so weird." She muttered.

"Am not." Liam grumbled. "I hope I'm not."

Olivia looked down at their hands still bound together. "I guess since you promised something, I should too."

He didn't bother to hide his surprise.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I, Olivia Nevarkis, The Crown Princess of Cordonia, swear that after I kill Constantine Rhys, I will lay down my weapons." Her brow furrowed. "I'll pick them back up though if you or any other monster tries anything."

Liam's smile grew. Before she could react, he tugged her into a quick hug.

"Now we can be friends!" He cheered.

"Friends?" She shook her head. "I'm a Nevarkis and you're a Rhys. We can't be friends."

"We will be." He vowed, jumping to his feet. "I have to go before Father finds out I've sneaked out. I'll try to come back in a few nights."

Olivia didn't have a chance to tell him whether or not she wanted him to. In the blink of an eye, he had jumped from her balcony and was already out the palace gates.

*****************

That had been the beginning of Liam's visits. Through the years, he had remained true to his promise. He did all he could to befriend her and never tried to sway her from seeking vengeance.

Olivia had once asked him how he could take her threat against his father so easily.

He had merely shrugged, explaining that he knew it was the way of things. His father had killed both her parents, while he had only lost one. He hoped she didn't since he did not wish to see his father or her dead.

Olivia had then told him again how weird he was, bringing another smile to his lips.

And now here he was again, calmly taking her promised vengeance well.

"So what business brings you here tonight?" She asked.

"Father thinks it is time I chose a wife." Liam responded. "I thought you should know that I will be spending more time in your kingdom to find one."

Olivia shot up off the bench. "What? But you promised to never hurt a human!"

"And I will keep true to that." He explained.

"But..." Olivia's brow furrowed. "You'll turn her into a vampire."

"Only if she wishes it." Liam explained. "I won't force her to make such a decision."

"I see." She began to pace while thinking. "You'll have vampire children."

"Only if she's a vampire." He reminded her. "Remember my brother."

Olivia paused. She had forgotten about Leo Rhys, The Great Disappointment of the Dark Kingdom. His mother had begged Constantine not to turn her. It had never been asked before, and in his mercy he had agreed. That was when they all discovered that a monster and a human could only produce a human child. In order for the heir to the Dark Kingdom to be a vampire, both parents had to be the same being.

"And you'll be fine having human children?" She asked. "If you're chosen bride refuses the Vampire's Kiss?"

"Of course." He responded.

"Lord, you're so weird." She muttered.

His smirk flashed. "Let's hope the woman I choose doesn't think so."

"Are there no women in your kingdom you can choose from?" She asked.

"I've looked." He shook his head. "It's hard to explain, but if one doesn't have an arranged marriage, then we must search until we see the one meant for us."

"And you somehow got weirder." She brushed her hands down her pants and held one out to him. "Good luck, I suppose."

"Thank you." He grasped her hand and lifted it to his lips. "I'll keep you updated on my progress."

"There's no need."

"Of course there is." He winked at her on his way out. "We're friends."

Her lips parted to once again remind him that they couldn't be. For some reason, she decided not to say it.

Liam had somehow wormed his way into her life and had become the closest friend she had ever had.

********************

The Lee Residence, Shanghai, China...

Lorelei paled as she reread the report. 

It can’t be. Not Now!

Of all the times for this to happen, it would be when her stubborn, foolish daughter decided to visit. 

Given the nature of her relationship with Hana, she knew that there was no way she could convince her to postpone her trip to Cordonia. 

There was only one course of action left to take. She would have to call the one man who was capable of protecting her daughter. She would promise hiim anything as long as he kept Hana out of Liam’s clutches. As much as wanted her to give up this ridiculous hobby she called a job and settled down with the right sort of man, she would never put her in the path of becoming the next vampire queen. 

Setting down the packet of information from one of her informants, she checked to make certain no servant was out in the hallway and then searched for the needed phone number.

Taking a deep breath, she placed the call.

Her trepidation grew when he didn’t immediately answer.

"Hello."

"Lord Beaumont?" 

"Yes." She could hear a door closing in the background. "Who is this?"

"Lorelei Lee." She replied.

"Lady Lorelei." He responded with a recognition. "How can I help you?"

"My daughter and her friend have got it in their heads to come visit Cordonia." She began. "I'm not certain how long they intend to stay, but I was hoping that I could retain your services."

"For what exactly?" Lord Beaumont asked.

"Protection." She replied. "I have heard through certain channels that the dark prince is beginning to search for a bride." She took a deep breath. "We do NOT want our daughter anywhere near that vile creature."

"I understand." He replied. "I usually don't do personal security. With my brother, Bertrand, retired," he hesitated, "it is left up to me to help protect Cordonia's borders."

"My husband and I would be in your debt if you could watch over her in the evenings." Lorelei cajoled. "I've heard that your brother is planning on extending his vineyards. We would be more than happy to invest in the production and distribution of his sparkling wine. Perhaps even let it be the only sparkling wine we serve in our hotels."

"Send me her information and picture. Call her and tell her that since our family is an old friend of yours, that I've volunteered to show them around. Find out where she's staying and when she plans on arriving."

"Oh thank you, my lord. We--"

"I'll also need a contract prepared and signed for all that you offered." He added.

"Yes of course. I'll get everything to you at once." She promised.

Once he ended the call, she sank back down onto her chair. 

She bowed her head and began to pray that her daughter came to no harm these next few weeks. To lose Hana to one of the many creatures that roamed the night in Cordonia was too horrible to even contemplate.

If anyone could keep her daughter safe then it was none other than Lord Maxwell Beaumont.

[totiredtowrite]

The Court of the Badlands

↳[King Ciyan]

Warnings - None

Note: Who's gonna read this? no clue, have it anyways. Also I'll probably write x readers for these characters. I linked what he looks like in the name. (gonna draw new stuff for him later). Have a look at Ciyans character and tell me what you think byee

"At the dawn of ones life, everything is surely over."

An unsettling grin covered the new kings face, long limbs draped over his throne of crushed bones.

Bones from what, exactly, nobody could truly say.

The criminal before him shook uncontrollably with fear, their ragged breathing heard throughout the room. The only other noise was dripping water from outside, where the rain had just ended. The guards stood rigidly stiff, silent, and the king didn't seem to make a noise. He kept his eyes on the fugitive, though not like one could tell with the mop of grey and white hair covering his neon yellow eyes. The twisted blue wood- or bone- of his crown didn't glow in the dark light spilling through the windows.

When the tremors in the criminals body subsided, the king finally spoke. His voice didn't echo. "Would you like to tell me why you- a rat, if anything- was stealing from your king?" This launches the criminal into a shaking fit all over again. They opened their mouth, attempting to form the words. Nothing came out.

There was no question that Ciyan took great joy in watching criminals cower at his feet. No, it wasn't sadistic. He liked to think that he upheld the law in a wonderful, constructive way! The criminal sat still shaking, mouth dry and empty. Ciyan hummed, latching his long, clawed black fingers over the armrests of his throne. He stood up, shoulders dipping slightly as he straightened to his full height.

King Ciyan, all seven feet and two inches of him, strode over to stand in front of the criminal. He didn't kneel, never, instead waiting for them to crane their neck up at him. They reached their shackled hands up to muffle a scared noise from leaving their mouth, shuffling back a little bit. A mock frown overtook his face and he tilted his head to one of the two guards on duty.

"Come on, I'm not that scary, am I?"

The guard struggles for words before settling on a meek "No sir."

He smiled at her, in that weird, polite way he did, and snapped his fingers to the criminal and turning his back. "Take them away," he said, heavily plopping down in his throne, "I have no need for someone without a spine." The guard nodded wordlessly, sweeping forward with another sentry to guide them out of the room.

Ciyan huffed and let his posture slouch. HOnestly, things were getting a little boring. He was considering taking over a part of the mountain ranges just for the hell of it, but that may be a bit much.

"Another one, my Lord?" A silky voice came from the corner of the throne room, as a woman practically melted out of the shadows. Ciyan sighed.

"Sadly, yes."

A moment of silence. Then, the spoke. "You are not at all upset, are you?"

A predatory grin split his face as he stood up. He leaned over, arms hanging to accommodate for his height. He didn't like standing up tall; it made his head hurt. "Hasin, why must you always assume that I enjoy putting the scum of society in their places?"

The necromancer cocked her thin brow, straight black hair spilling over her shoulders as she tilted her head. "It's no assumption, Ciyan."

He chuckled again, turning to stride back to his throne once more.

"You know me so well."

"It's in the job description."

Ciyan waved his hand in dismissal of the topic. "What do you need, Sin?" It felt more like a demand than a question, but at this point Hasin was used to it. Ciyan's understanding of human tone wasn't very developed.

"Mauhul threatened another military leader. Again."

He perked up slightly. "Oh? Were they frightened?"

She sighed, blsck eyes closing as she pinched the bridge of her thin nose. "Sometimes I wonder how you two haven't run this place into the ground," she murmured exasperatedly. Ciyan chuckled.

"It's likely your fault that we haven't destroyed the castle," he responded, his two fanged canines exposed as he stuck his long blue tongue out.

The vast, vast majority of people who were faced with Ciyan got scared, defensive, started crying, passed out, all four, or something else. The two people on his court, Hasin and General Mauhul, were the only two who have stood up and showed no outward fear towards him. Mauhul did it simply because of pure recklessness and pride, and Sin did it because she is only interested in her work. If that means taking offers from a potential evil deity, she didn’t care.

“Are we not going to worry about social affairs?” She asked, an attitude present in her voice.

“Would it matter?” Ciyan retorted with a slight frown.

“I suppose not.”

“Then we won’t.”

Sin nodded, the skull at her side bobbing as she walked back towards the door. Ciyan may be over 800 years old, but he was very new at ruling a kingdom. Perhaps it's because he was used to just demanding things and not worrying about keeping up an image. That was part of the reason why Hasin chose to work with him. She knows that he needs someone to work his way around people. (Even if she was no better herself, she has a way with words). “Close up the throne room. Have a nice night my lord.”

With that, Ciyan was left alone in the throne room. The two guards who had been previously stationed were dragging a criminal down to the cellars by now. Ciyan turned his eyes to the windows at the top of his throne room before turning around. He closed the door to his Royal Hall with a flick of his wrist, and left the throne room; disappearing after Sin through a door secluded in the shadows.

Do not repost, translate, or copy my work on to other platforms.

[ladyofasoiaf]

Jon ‘One Eye’ & Sansa Stark

In this meta I will try to point out the clues of Jon’s death- warging into his direwolf- coming back to life process. 

Our main hint is going to be : ONE EYE motifs... 

And interestingly this hint is always close to Sansa... 

[Most of these clues etc have been already examined by many people but I will try to put them all in order to show the pattern..]

A GAME OF THRONES:

Waymar Royce

Waymar Royce appearence and story are very similar with Jon’s. 

They look similar:

Ser Waymar Royce was the youngest son of an ancient house with too many heirs. He was a handsome youth of eighteen, grey-eyed and graceful and slender as a knife.

[AGOT; Prologue]

Jon’s eyes were a grey so dark they seemed almost black, but there was little they did not see. He was of an age with Robb, but they did not look alike. Jon was slender where Robb was muscular, dark where Robb was fair, graceful and quick where his half brother was strong and fast.  

[AGOT; Bran I]

They are both young men of Night’s Watch but they were not very welcomed by their other black brothers:

His cloak was his crowning glory; sable, thick and black and soft as sin. “Bet he killed them all himself, he did,” Gared told the barracks over wine, “twisted their little heads off, our mighty warrior.” They had all shared the laugh. It is hard to take orders from a man you laughed at in your cups, Will reflected as he sat shivering atop his garron. Gared must have felt the same.

[AGOT; Prologue]

“Yes, life,” Noye said. “A long life or a short one, it’s up to you, Snow. The road you’re walking, one of your brothers will slit your throat for you one night.” “They’re not my brothers,” Jon snapped. “They hate me because I’m better than they are.” “No. They hate you because you act like you’re better than they are. They look at you and see a castle-bred bastard who thinks he’s a lordling.” The armorer leaned close. “You’re no lordling. Remember that. You’re a Snow, not a Stark. You’re a bastard and a bully.”

[AGOT; Jon III]

Others are a very important part of Jon’s arc and story and Waymar meets with them in Prologue:

Ser Waymar met him bravely. “Dance with me then.” He lifted his sword high over his head, defiant. His hands trembled from the weight of it, or perhaps from the cold. Yet in that moment, Will thought, he was a boy no longer, but a man of the Night’s Watch.

[AGOT; Prologue]

This phrase also reminds us Jon:

It is more than impatience, Jon realized. They are afraid. Warriors, spearwives, raiders, they are frightened of those woods, of shadows moving through the trees. They want to put the Wall between them before the night descends. 

A snowflake danced upon the air. Then another. Dance with me, Jon Snow, he thought. You’ll dance with me anon.

[ADWD; Jon XII]

In Prologue, Waymar gets killed by Others:

Royce’s body lay facedown in the snow, one arm out-flung. The thick sable cloak had been slashed in a dozen places. Lying dead like that, you saw how young he was. A boy.

[AGOT; Prologue]

And Jon dies in ADWD:

Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger’s hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. “Ghost,” he whispered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold …

[ADWD; Jon XIII]

But Waymar comes back to life as a wight with ‘ONE EYE’:

Will rose. Ser Waymar Royce stood over him. His fine clothes were a tatter, his face a ruin. A shard from his sword transfixed the blind white pupil of his left eye. The right eye was open. The pupil burned blue. It saw.

[AGOT; Prologue]

So: A young man of Night’s Watch who looks like Jon dies and comes back to life with ONE EYE. 

Let’s continue with the second book...

A CLASH OF KINGS:

Orell

Orell is Wildling who is also a skinchanger. His animal is an EAGLE. 

Jon kills Orell in ACOK; Jon VI:

Jon nodded toward the one by the fire. It felt queer, picking a man to kill. 

[...]

Jon’s man leapt to his feet, thrusting at his face with a burning brand. He could feel the heat of the flames as he flinched back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the sleeper stirring, and knew he must finish his man quick. When the brand swung again, he bulled into it, swinging the bastard sword with both hands. The Valyrian steel sheared through leather, fur, wool, and flesh, but when the wildling fell he twisted, ripping the sword from Jon’s grasp. 

[...]

“You ought to burn them you killed,” said Ygritte.

[ACOK; Jon VI]

But due to the magic of skinchanging, a portion of Orell’s consciousness remained in the eagle, which developed a fierce hatred for Jon.

And in ACOK; Jon VII he dreams of an eagle attacking him and people talk about vargs and skinchangers:

Then a sudden gust of cold made his fur stand up, and the air thrilled to the sound of wings. As he lifted his eyes to the ice-white mountain heights above, a shadow plummeted out of the sky. A shrill scream split the air. He glimpsed blue-grey pinions spread wide, shutting out the sun… “Ghost!” Jon shouted, sitting up. He could still feel the talons, the pain. “Ghost, to me!” Ebben appeared, grabbed him, shook him. “Quiet! You mean to bring the wildlings down on us? What’s wrong with you, boy?” “A dream,” said Jon feebly. “I was Ghost, I was on the edge of the mountain looking down on a frozen river, and something attacked me. A bird… an eagle, I think…”

[...]

“Skinchanger?” said Ebben grimly, looking at the Halfhand. Does he mean the eagle? Jon wondered. Or me? Skinchangers and wargs belonged in Old Nan’s stories, not in the world he had lived in all his life. Yet here, in this strange bleak wilderness of rock and ice, it was not hard to believe.

[ACOK; Jon VII]

So: There is a skinchanger who dies because of Jon but a part of him keeps living in his animal: eagle. 

The interesting thing is that between these two Jon chapters (Orell and eagle dream) comes a very important Sansa chapter which has many parallels with Jon VI chapter...

An example of parallels:

[…] ‘All I ask is a flower,’ Bael answered, ‘the fairest flower that blooms in the gardens o’ Winterfell.”

“Now as it happened the winter roses had only then come into bloom, and no flower is so rare nor precious…  

[ACOK; Jon VI]

Sansa lowered her head. “The blood frightened me.”

“The blood is the seal of your womanhood. Lady Catelyn might have prepared you. You’ve had your first flowering, no more.”

Sansa had never felt less flowery. “My lady mother told me, but I… I thought it would be different.”  

[ACOK; Sansa IV]

For more, please check: Jonsa Book Hints: B5 

In this chapter Sansa says she wants to be loved and Cersei warns her that “love kills too...” Next chapter is Jon with his eagle dreams and warging abilities:

A half smile flickered across the queen’s face. “[…]Robert wanted to be loved. My brother Tyrion has the same disease. Do you want to be loved, Sansa?”

“Everyone wants to be loved.”

“I see flowering hasn’t made you any brighter,” said Cersei. “Sansa, permit me to share a bit of womanly wisdom with you on this very special day. Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same.”  

[ACOK; Sansa IV]

Let’s move on to third book...

A STORM OF SWORDS:

Orell and Wargs

In ASOS; Jon I, we learn the name of the Wildling that Jon has killed in ACOK; Jon VI:

“He slew Qhorin Halfhand,” said Longspear Ryk. “Him and that wolf o’ his.”

“And did for Orell too,” said Rattleshirt.

“The lad’s a warg, or close enough,” put in Ragwyle, the big spearwife. “His wolf took a piece o’ Halfhand’s leg.”

[...]

“What’s this?” he said. “A crow?”

“The black bastard what gutted Orell,” said Rattleshirt, “and a bloody warg as well.”

“You were to kill them all.”

“This one come over,” explained Ygritte. “He slew Qhorin Halfhand with his own hand.”

[ASOS; Jon I]

This Jon chapter comes after ASOS; Sansa I. 

And these chapters have many parallels such as:

Sansa knelt at the feet of her future queen. “You do me great honor, Your Grace.” “Won’t you call me Margaery? Please, rise. Loras, help the Lady Sansa to her feet. Might I call you Sansa?”  

[ASOS; Sansa I]  

“I would be pleased to eat, Your Grace. And thank you.”

“Your Grace?” The king smiled. “That’s not a style one often hears from the lips of the free folk. I’m Mance to most, The Mance to some. Will you take a horn of mead?”  

[ASOS; Jon I]

For more, please check: Jonsa Book Hints: C1

We also learn about Sansa’s new betrothed: Willas Tyrell.. 

Willas has a bad leg and so does Jon, in ASOS:

“Willas has a bad leg but a good heart,” said Margaery. “He used to read to me when I was a little girl, and draw me pictures of the stars. You will love him as much as we do, Sansa.”

[ASOS; Sansa I]

If the mare had gone down, he would have been doomed. “A lucky thing my leg got in the way,” he muttered.

He rested for a while to let the horse graze. She did not wander far. That was good. Hobbled with a bad leg, he could never have caught her.

[ASOS; Jon V]

Let’s keep reading...

In ASOS; Jon II chapter Jon’s eagle dream from ACOK comes true and Orell’s eagle attacks Jon’s eye:

He could still hear wings, though the eagle was not in sight. Half his world was black. “My eye,” he said in sudden panic, raising a hand to his face.

“It’s only blood, Jon Snow. He missed the eye, just ripped your skin up some.”

[…]

Can a bird hate? Jon had slain the wilding Orell, but some part of the man remained within the eagle. The golden eyes looked out on him with cold malevolence.

[…]

I will need to get this tended, he thought, but not just now. Let the King-beyond-the-Wall see what his eagle did to me.

[…]

The look Mance gave Jon was grim and cold. “What happened to your face?”

Ygritte said, “Orell tried to take his eye out.”

“It was him I asked. Has he lost his tongue? Perhaps he should, to spare us further lies.”

Styr the Magnar drew a long knife. “The boy might see more clear with one eye, instead of two.”

“Would you like to keep your eye, Jon?” asked the King-beyond-the-Wall. “If so, tell me how many they were. And try and speak the truth this time, Bastard of Winterfell.”

Jon’s throat was dry. “My lord… what…”

[ASOS; Jon II]

Jon almosts loses his ‘one eye’ and becomes Jon ‘One Eye’ Snow because of this attack..

After this eagle attack Jon chapter comes ASOS; Sansa II 

And these chapters have many parallels such as:

Jon wheeled and followed Tormund back toward the head of the column, his new cloak hanging heavy from his shoulders. It was made of unwashed sheepskins, worn fleece side in, as the wildlings suggested.

[…]  

“I wear the cloak you gave me, Your Grace.”  

[ASOS; Jon II]

A new gown?” she said, as wary as she was astonished.

“More lovely than any you have worn, my lady,” the old woman promised. She measured Sansa’s hips with a length of knotted string. “All silk and Myrish lace, with satin linings. You will be very beautiful. The queen herself has commanded it.”

“Which queen?” Margaery was not yet Joff’s queen, but she had been Renly’s. Or did she mean the Queen of Thorns? Or…“The Queen Regent, to be sure.”  

[ASOS; Sansa II]

For more, please check: Jonsa Book Hints: C2

And after the chapter of an eagle attacks Jon’s eye we learn in next chapter that Sansa’s betrothed Willas Tyrell flies EAGLES:

“Willas has the best birds in the Seven Kingdoms,” Margaery said when the two of them were briefly alone. “He flies an eagle sometimes. You will see, Sansa.” 

[ASOS; Sansa II]

Why is Almost One Eye Jon and Sansa Stark being near to each other important?

Because the first Sansa Stark in Stark family tree was married with her half-uncle Jonnel ‘One Eye’ Stark:

So another Sansa being close to another Stark family member who almost had lost his one eye sounds interesting. 

Well, Jon didn’t lose his eye but his face got scarred:

He had almost forgotten about his face. “A skinchanger tried to rip out my eye.”

Noye frowned. “Scarred or smooth, it’s a face I thought I’d seen the last of. We heard you’d gone over to Mance Rayder.”

[ASOS; Jon VI]

Who else has a scarred face? Sansa’s husband- Tyrion Lannister:

“I like your scar.” She traced it with her finger. “It makes you look very fierce and strong.”

He laughed. “Very ugly, you mean.”

“M’lord will never be ugly in my eyes.” She kissed the scab that covered the ragged stub of his nose.

[ASOS; Tyrion II]

Varamyr 

What happens to this eagle later?

Skinchanger, Varamyr Sixskins, takes control of Orell’s eagle. Varamyr uses the eagle to scout Castle Black and spots Stannis Baratheon’s arrival at the Wall.

The eagle bursts into flames during the attack on Castle Black with Melisandre claiming she was responsible. 

The skinchanger was grey-faced, round-shouldered, and bald, a mouse of a man with a wolfling’s eyes. “Once a horse is broken to the saddle, any man can mount him,” he said in a soft voice. “Once a beast’s been joined to a man, any skinchanger can slip inside and ride him. Orell was withering inside his feathers, so I took the eagle for my own. But the joining works both ways, warg. Orell lives inside me now, whispering how much he hates you. And I can soar above the Wall, and see with eagle eyes.”

[...]

“Banners,” he heard Varamyr murmur, “I see golden banners, oh . . .” A mammoth lumbered by, trumpeting, a half-dozen bowmen in the wooden tower on its back. “The king . . . no . . .”

Then the skinchanger threw back his head and screamed.The sound was shocking, ear-piercing, thick with agony. Varamyr fell, writhing, and the ’cat was screaming too.... and high, high in the eastern sky, against the wall of cloud, Jon saw the eagle burning. For a heartbeat it flamed brighter than a star, wreathed in red and gold and orange, its wings beating wildly at the air as if it could fly from the pain. Higher it flew, and higher, and higher still.

[ASOS; Jon X]

Melisandre burns the eagle. Who else got burned in the books? 

Jon Snow in AGOT:

He had burned himself more badly than he knew throwing the flaming drapes, and his right hand was swathed in silk halfway to the elbow. At the time he’d felt nothing; the agony had come after.

[AGOT; Jon VIII]

And Jon burns himself in AGOT; Jon VII:

Jon tried to shout, but his voice was gone. Staggering to his feet, he kicked the arm away and snatched the lamp from the Old Bear’s fingers. The flame flickered and almost died. “Burn!” the raven cawed. “Burn, burn, burn!”

Spinning, Jon saw the drapes he’d ripped from the window. He flung the lamp into the puddled cloth with both hands. Metal crunched, glass shattered, oil spewed, and the hangings went up in a great whoosh of flame. The heat of it on his face was sweeter than any kiss Jon had ever known. “Ghost!” he shouted.

The direwolf wrenched free and came to him as the wight struggled to rise, dark snakes spilling from the great wound in its belly. Jon plunged his hand into the flames, grabbed a fistful of the burning drapes, and whipped them at the dead man. Let it burn, he prayed as the cloth smothered the corpse, gods, please, please, let it burn.

[AGOT; Jon VII]

This Jon chapter comes after AGOT; Sansa IV:

And these two chapters have many parallels such as:

So she went to the queen instead, and poured out her heart, and Cersei had listened and thanked her sweetly … only then Ser Arys had escorted her to the high room in Maegor’s Holdfast and posted guards, and a few hours later, the fighting had begun outside.

[AGOT; Sansa IV]

They took his knife and his sword and told him he was not to leave his cell until the high officers met to decide what was to be done with him. And then they placed a guard outside his door to make certain he obeyed. His friends were not allowed to see him, but the Old Bear did relent and permit him Ghost, so he was not utterly alone.

[AGOT; Jon VII]

*

Yet somehow it seemed colder with Jeyne gone, even after she’d built a fire. She pulled a chair close to the hearth, took down one of her favorite books, and lost herself in the stories of Florian and Jonquil, of Lady Shella and the Rainbow Knight, of valiant Prince Aemon and his doomed love for his brother’s queen.

[AGOT; Sansa IV]

Yet he was trembling, violently. When had it gotten so cold?

[…]


Metal crunched, glass shattered, oil spewed, and the hangings went up in a great whoosh of flame. The heat of it on his face was sweeter than any kiss Jon had ever known. “Ghost!” he shouted.

[AGOT; Jon VII]

For more, please check: Jonsa Book Hints: A10

What happens to skinchanger Orell and warg Varamyr after the eagle burst into flames?

The incident greatly affects Varamyr and supposedly kills the remnants of Orell inside the eagle. 

After the defeat of the wildlings at the battle beneath the Wall, Varamyr has lost all his possessions in his madness from experiencing the eagle’s death; he has also lost control of his snow bear and shadowcat, but his wolves remain.

[Orell dying completely and Varamyr gets mad also reminds me another resurrected character Beric Dondarrion who also has ONE EYE and him dying for good to bring Catelyn Stark back to life... And like Varamyr, Lady Stoneheart loses her mind too... ]

Let’s move on to fourth book...

A FEAST FOR CROWS:

Jon is not even in this book? 

But Sansa is and we learn few things about her crushes:

Waymar Royce:

She had fallen wildly in love with Ser Waymar, she remembered dimly, but that was a lifetime ago, when she was a stupid little girl.

[AFFC; Alayne I]

Grrm reminds us Waymar Royce aka the biggest foreshadowing for Jon in AFFC book via Sansa’s chapter... 

Loras Tyrell:

Loras was another crush of Sansa and we learn that he got burned really bad in AFFC. 

Like the eagle and Jon. 

“Tell me,” said Margaery. “I command it.” Command it? Cersei paused a moment, then decided she would let that pass. “The defenders fell back to an inner keep once the curtain wall was taken. Loras led the attack there as well. He was doused with boiling oil.” Lady Alla turned white as chalk, and ran from the room. “The maesters are doing all they can, Lord Waters assures me, but I fear your brother is too badly burned.”

[AFFC; Cersei VIII]

More about Loras // Jon, please check: Jonsa Book Hints: A8

Let’s keep reading the fifth book...

A DANCE WITH DRAGONS:

In ADWD; Prologue Varamyr encounters with Others (just like AGOT; Prologue) and Varamyr’s body dies, but his mind lives on in his wolf One Eye. 

And Varamyr also thinks about Jon and his direwolf.. 

So we have dead warg who kept living in his animal: A WOLF whose name is ONE EYE. 

Varamyr could feel the snowflakes melting on his brow. This is not so bad as burning. Let me sleep and never wake, let me begin my second life. His wolves were close now. He could feel them. He would leave this feeble flesh behind, become one with them, hunting the night and howling at the moon. The warg would become a true wolf. Which, though?

[...]

“They say you forget,” Haggon had told him, a few weeks before his own death. “When the man’s flesh dies, his spirit lives on inside the beast, but every day his memory fades, and the beast becomes a little less a warg, a little more a wolf, until nothing of the man is left and only the beast remains.”

Varamyr knew the truth of that. When he claimed the eagle that had been Orell’s, he could feel the other skinchanger raging at his presence. Orell had been slain by the turncloak crow Jon Snow, and his hate for his killer had been so strong that Varamyr found himself hating the beastling boy as well. He had known what Snow was the moment he saw that great white direwolf stalking silent at his side. One skinchanger can always sense another. Mance should have let me take the direwolf. There would be a second life worthy of a king. He could have done it, he did not doubt. The gift was strong in Snow, but the youth was untaught, still fighting his nature when he should have gloried in it.

[...]

A sleeping direwolf raised his head to snarl at empty air. Before their hearts could beat again he had passed on, searching for his own, for One Eye, Sly, and Stalker, for his pack. His wolves would save him, he told himself. That was his last thought as a man. True death came suddenly; he felt a shock of cold, as if he had been plunged into the icy waters of a frozen lake. Then he found himself rushing over moonlit snows with his packmates close behind him. Half the world was dark. One Eye, he knew. He bayed, and Sly and Stalker gave echo. When they reached the crest the wolves paused. 

[...]

The things below moved, but did not live. One by one, they raised their heads toward the three wolves on the hill. The last to look was the thing that had been Thistle. She wore wool and fur and leather, and over that she wore a coat of hoarfrost that crackled when she moved and glistened in the moonlight. Pale pink icicles hung from her fingertips, ten long knives of frozen blood. And in the pits where her eyes had been, a pale blue light was flickering, lending her coarse features an eerie beauty they had never known in life. She sees me.

[ADWD; Prologue]

Jon dies in his last ADWD chapter and his last word was his direwolf’s name: GHOST... 

Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger’s hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. “Ghost,” he whispered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold …

[ADWD; Jon XIII]

So we have a full circle: 

It started with Agot; Prologue 

and ended with ADWD; Jon XIII

Let’s not forget that Jon’s death was foreshadowed in ASOS; Sansa VI chapter. 

Lord Petyr dismissed him with a wave, and returned to the pomegranate again as Oswell shuffled down the steps. “Tell me, Alayne—which is more dangerous, the dagger brandished by an enemy, or the hidden one pressed to your back by someone you never even see?”  

“The hidden dagger.”  

“There’s a clever girl.” He smiled, his thin lips bright red from the pomegranate seeds.  

[ASOS; Sansa VI]

Next chapter was Jon:

Fore more about Jon’s death and Sansa; please check: 

Jonsa Book Hints: C12 & E7 

“Do not be so certain.” The ruby at Melisandre’s throat gleamed red. “It is not the foes who curse you to your face that you must fear, but those who smile when you are looking and sharpen their knives when you turn your back. You would do well to keep your wolf close beside you. Ice, I see, and daggers in the dark. Blood frozen red and hard, and naked steel. It was very cold.”

“It is always cold on the Wall.”

“You think so?”

“I know so, my lady.”

“Then you know nothing, Jon Snow,” she whispered.  

[ADWD; Jon I]

In conclusion:

Jon’s death, him warging into his direwolf during his death and him coming back to life arc has been foreshadowed since AGOT; Prologue and its most obvious hints were given in ADWD; Prologue by echoing AGOT; Prologue. 

The ‘ONE EYE’ motif seems like a key hint for his resurrection. 

And Sansa is always close to this motif or she has some connections with this motif via other characters or her chapters. 

A Sansa Stark being close to another ‘ONE EYE’ Stark is interesting because of the historical couple: Jonnel ‘One Eye’ & Sansa Stark in Stark family tree.. 

Even the hints of Jon’s death can be found in Sansa chapters. 

All of these tell us that Sansa will be important in Jon’s past resurrection story. 

Thanks for reading. 

Some sources:

Waymar // Jon 

Disfigurements 

Jonnel / Sansa

Jon’s fate and losing an eye

[une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir]

random thoughts on jon connington’s chapters

The last time I read this was over four years and  I had a different take on Aegon, so I was curious to see on what changed with a second read.

----

The Lost Lord  ~ ADWD

Sansa and Aegon

Alayne II (Sansa II) ~ AFFC

When Robert dies, Harry the Heir becomes Lord Harrold, Defender of the Vale and Lord of the Eyrie. Jon Arryn's bannermen will never love me, nor our silly, shaking Robert, but they will love their Young Falcon . . . and when they come together for his wedding, and you come out with your long auburn hair, clad in a maiden's cloak of white and grey with a direwolf emblazoned on the back . . . why, every knight in the Vale will pledge his sword to win you back your birthright."

The Lost Lord ~ ADWD

"We have gone to great lengths to keep Prince Aegon hidden all these years," Lemore reminded him. "The time will come for him to wash his hair and declare himself, I know, but that time is not now. Not to a camp of sellswords." (...)

"The plan was to reveal Prince Aegon only when we reached Queen Daenerys," Lemore was saying." (...)

The prince wore sword and dagger, black boots polished to a high sheen, a black cloak lined with blood-red silk. With his hair washed and cut and freshly dyed a deep, dark blue, his eyes looked blue as well. At his throat he wore three huge square-cut rubies on a chain of black iron, a gift from Magister Illyrio. Red and black. Dragon colors. That was good. "You look a proper prince," he told the boy. (...)

Sansa and Aegon are supposed to reveal themselves by washing the dye out of their hair and wearing their house colours, in an event that involves a wedding with someone that will facilitate claiming their birthright.

However, Aegon said “fuck that bitch Danerys” and getting married, revealed himself somewhat (to the Golden Company higher-ups only) wearing his house colours and went back to Westeros to reclaim his birthright on his own, unware that his cousin from his mother’s side is coming to him to offer aid in the war.. Aegon washing his hair of the blue dye and doning his armour will only happen wieh he sets foot in Westeros.

Likewise, we can draw a parallel scenario for Sansa and considering the “Sansa is grey girl who flees from a marriage” it all fits, Like Aegon, Sansa syas “fuck that bitch blonde Bobby B Harry and getting married, like Aegon she wears a grey cloak, and like Aegon she’ll be meeting her cousin and eventually claim her birthright.

I somehow doubt Sansa will be getting an army that soon, but in the show she got the Wildlings (via Jon, who can be seen as “sellsword” type of warriors) and the Vale army. In the books, there’s the mountain clans both in the Vale (loyal to Tyrion, whom she’s married to) and the north mountain clans (those that protected Bran because he is Ned’s son and joined Stannis also because of Ned and his daughter).

Another thing of note is Aegon ended up cutting his hair but dyed blue once more, so this may be true for Sansa as well. She may cut it shorter (a parallel to her sister Arya as well) but keep dying it for awhile still. Such, she may reach the Wall and meet Jon as a brunette (a parallel to Jeyne Poole as well as  Alys Karstark).  ETA: Likewise Aegon only revealing himself by washing his hair and doning his armour when he invades Westeros (his birthright), Sansa may only wash her hair and done her armour when the northern campaign starts.

Regardless, This is a smart choice because...

Cersei IV ~ ADWD

The queen bristled. "I most certainly have not forgotten that little she-wolf." She refused to say the girl's name. "I ought to have shown her to the black cells as the daughter of a traitor, but instead I made her part of mine own household. She shared my hearth and hall, played with my own children. I fed her, dressed her, tried to make her a little less ignorant about the world, and how did she repay me for my kindness? She helped murder my son. When we find the Imp, we will find the Lady Sansa too. She is not dead . . . but before I am done with her, I promise you, she will be singing to the Stranger, begging for his kiss."

The Lost Lord ~ ADWD

"His because they're bought and paid for. Ten thousand armed strangers, plus hangers-on and camp followers. All it takes is one to bring us all to ruin. If Hugor's head was worth a lord's honors, how much will Cersei Lannister pay for the rightful heir to the Iron Throne? You do not know these men, my lord. It has been a dozen years since you last rode with the Golden Company, and your old friend is dead."

Cersei’s attention on Aegon is also a parallel to Cersei’s attention to Sansa, interestingly enough Tyrion is mentioned in both instances. Cersei’s attention on Sansa also come attached with the “singing the Stranger for a kiss”, which is interesting because if “Sansa is the Grey Girl” theory holds to, the guy she’s running to for protection is in fact.... dead or close to (the Stranger is their god and in the show... the episode was aplty named, the Book of the Stranger).

The bells tolled for all of us that day. For Aerys and his queen, for Elia of Dorne and her little daughter, for every true man and honest woman in the Seven Kingdoms. And for my silver prince. (...)

He had grown fond of Lemore, but that did not mean he required her approval. Her task had been to instruct the prince in the doctrines of the Faith, and she had done that. No amount of prayer would put him on the Iron Throne, however. That was Griff's task. He had failed Prince Rhaegar once. He would not fail his son. 

Let me live long enough to see the boy sit the Iron Throne, and Varys will pay for that slight and so much more. Then we'll see who's soon forgotten.

I grant that the obsession that Jon Connington has for Rhaegar Targaryen is milder and more honourable, compared to the obsession Littlefinger has for Catelyn Tully, but the fact is this is yet another parallel between Sansa and Aegon. They both have mentors with an unhealthy obsession with one of their parents and hate the other, which they project onto the kids. Last, but not least, both mentors are passing off as parents of the children while they remain disguised under a false indentiy.

However, as Sansa will have to run from Littlefinger’s toxic shadow, I suspect Aegon will do much the same. I have suspicions. Sansa escaped Littlefinger because of Jon, as he took the role of protection. No matter how people see the ship, the fact is Jon is a lot like Ned V2 (at least, that’s how Littlefinger will see it and he hated the man) but the truth is Jon is Ned’s nephew and Sansa’s cousin from his mother’s side.

Likewise, Aegon is about to meet Arianne Martell, who’s the niece of his mother Elia Martell, which makes them cousins from his mother’s side. Elia Martell, whom Jon Connington... hates, often speculated in fact that he was in love with Rhaegar Targaryen himself. The symmetry of all this, not only the mentor’s obsession with the children but also the love / hate hey have for their parents.

Connington’s wish to see Aegon crowned and the giant chip he has on his shoulder for not being recognised. For the former, I have not found any reference to Littlefinger wanting to sit the Iron Throne in the books, but this was basically his goal in the show. To be king with Sansa by his side. For the latter, well that’s the drive of his character, he’s a social climber seeking recognition.

Sansa VII ~ ASOS

I will tell my aunt that I don't want to marry Robert. Not even the High Septon himself could declare a woman married if she refused to say the vows. She wasn't a beggar, no matter what her aunt said. She was thirteen, a woman flowered and wed, the heir to Winterfell.

The Lost Lord ~ ADWD

"Why should I go running to my aunt  [implied marriage] as if I were a beggar? My claim is better than her own. Let her come to me … in Westeros." 

Eh. Same energy. They are not beggars and they know their birthright, they will not be forced to marry someone they don’t want to to facilitate it.

----

TL;DR: I think these concurrence between Sansa and Aegon suggest that Aegon is real, but also glimpse into their characters beyond their toxic mentors and their ascencion to power. It will be interesting to watch their common points in future events, even if by the fact that they’re different genders and that makes PLENTY of difference in ASOIAF.

Jon and Aegon

Jon II ~ ASOS

A few tents were still standing on the far side of the camp, and it was there they found Mance Rayder. Beneath his slashed cloak of black wool and red silk he wore black ringmail and shaggy fur breeches, and on his head was a great bronze-and-iron helm with raven wings at either temple. Jarl was with him, and Harma the Dogshead; Styr as well, and Varamyr Sixskins with his wolves and his shadowcat.

The Lost Lord ~ ADWD

The prince wore sword and dagger, black boots polished to a high sheen, a black cloak lined with blood-red silk. With his hair washed and cut and freshly dyed a deep, dark blue, his eyes looked blue as well. At his throat he wore three huge square-cut rubies on a chain of black iron, a gift from Magister Illyrio. Red and black. Dragon colors. That was good. "You look a proper prince," he told the boy. (...)

I personally ignored Aegon because I started with the show and didn’t know he was a (living) character until I read the books. I wasn’t even all that convinced he’d be particularly important. So I always looked at Jon’s interactions with Mance (associated with black + red) as "preparation” for Jon’s internactions with Daniella.

Hoewver, that changed when show!Cersei took over some of book!Aegon role: sitting on the Iron Throne, the Golden Company, and loved over Daniella in the last to final episode. It seems to me now that Mance can also (at the very least if not all) be seen as “preparation” for Jon’s interactions Aegon. As said, Mance  dresss in a black and red cloak which associates him with Targs, the cloak being “copied” by Aegon. Mance united the notorious “give no fucks about authority) wildlings under one idea (run from the Others), while Aegon united a sellsword compay (sellswords are untrustworthty).

Moreover, it’s my conviction that Jon and Aegon are probably going to war against each other for a time (this is illustrated by what I believe are their respective dragons and a natural consequence if Aegon sits in King’s Landing while the Starks declare Northern Indepdencen), until they sommehow make peace (in case of Mance and Jon it was because of the Others, but for Jon and Aegon it could be their fire counterart, Danerys).

TL;DR: I think these vague connections between Mance and Aegon are rather interesting and may be “preparation” for Jon and Aegon’s intereactons will involve war AND peace. Interestingly, Connington’s next chapter feaures battle.

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 14: Masquerade

(from ‘The Winter and The Crown’)

…in which there are intruders in the castle.

Word count: 3.1k

AU: queen!y/n, commander!harry

Description: Y/N and Harry set off on a new adventure to find ‘the cure’ for an ancient curse, meanwhile, the enemies are plotting to take her kingdom.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N aka “Peach”)

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Y/N had danced her third dance of the night with her third partner. The entire time, she'd kept searching the room for Harry. Where was he? It wasn't like him to promise that he'd be here and not show up. She blamed all the trauma she'd gone through for her being too guarded and anxious, yet she trusted her gut instinct, and tonight, it was telling her to be careful.

The crowd broke into applause at the end of another dance, and Y/N felt a tap on her shoulder.

"May I have a word with you in private?" Lance asked, eyeing Y/N's dance partner. The man took the hint and bowed goodbye to Lance and Y/N. Lance gave Y/N a mysterious grin as he gestured with his hand toward the door, letting her walk first.

"You seem anxious," he pointed out once they were alone in the corridor and the orchestra music became muffled.

"How anxious?" she asked, pulling off her mask.

He kept his mask on, holding his hands together behind his back. "Right now? Not as much as before." He offered a calming smile. "I'm sorry. Is this a bad time to talk about politics?"

"It's never a good time, but go ahead."

Lance hummed his agreement. "I didn't see Mary tonight. I thought Jo was supposed to keep an eye on her."

"She's being kept an eye on. Don't worry. Her room is being guarded," Y/N said, arms crossed. "What's wrong?"

Lance inhaled deeply, catching his breath. "She was to betray us. She was a spy for Calanthe. She told you to go to the North mountain because Calanthe wanted you to lead her there. She also wanted to find the lake. But her plan failed because the forest protected its secrets from outsiders like her."

Y/N's stomach dipped. "How long have you known this?"

"Weeks."

"And you decided to wait until now to tell me?"

"Look," Lance breathed, raking his fingers through his dark locks. "I was going to wait until after tonight because you'd gone through so much–"

"So what made you decide to tell me in the middle of my dance?"

Lance worked his jaw. For once, he was inarticulate. "This might sound stupid, but...it was my gut feeling telling me to tell you right away."

Y/N bit her lip. "So...why are you keeping this a secret? Why are you protecting the witch?"

Lance hesitated. "I don't want to hurt Jo..."

"Jo?" It took Y/N a moment to realize what he meant. Her heart dropped. "Oh, no, Jo...She was looking for someone tonight. I thought it was you."

"No," Lance chuckled, shaking his head. "Jo doesn't like me like that. Or at all."

"Everyone likes you."

"Is that so?" His eyebrow lifted in amusement. "Well, I'm very flattered, Your Majesty, but I don't think me being likeable could do much good for us. Calanthe has a plan."

"What plan?" Y/N scoffed. "Is there something else you're not telling me?"

"It's not a fact, just my speculation."

"Go ahead."

Lance rubbed his chin. "Well, I think George Wallace was murdered, but not by one of our people."

Y/N took a moment to let that sink in. "What are you implying? That it was a setup?"

Lance nodded, his eyebrows knitted. Y/N watched his grey eyes dance behind the mask as he observed his surroundings before lowering his voice. "They sent him here to kill him. He was the bait. No one would suspect Calanthe to sacrifice her most trusted advisor."

"Harry said the same thing," Y/N said and chewed on the inside of her cheek.

"What?"

Her head shot up. She blinked at Lance. "What?"

Lance cocked his head to the side. "Is everything all right between you two?"

The question wasn't sarcasm with the intention of taunting her. Lance genuinely cared about her feelings despite his own. Knowing so, she could not help but think about what he'd said the other night and earlier on the dance floor. First and last dance...

No. She was overthinking again. She wasn't allowed to have these thoughts. This political chaos was already too much to handle. There was no time for personal business.

"Nothing is all right, Lance. You know that," Y/N answered with a soft sigh.

Lance nodded, his lips pressed tightly together.

Just as the uncomfortable silence threatened to creep back in, a guard showed up, gasping for air as he bowed to Y/N and Lance. Y/N thought to herself, 'Not another dead body,' and her limbs went numb as she remembered that Harry was nowhere to be found tonight. He could be anywhere in the castle. Who knew what could have happened to him?

"Your Majesty," the guard said between laboured breaths. "There are intruders in the castle."

"Where?" asked Lance, his fingers secured around his sword-hilt.

"The west wing," the guard said. "Commander Harry saw someone."

"Where's Harry?" Y/N asked, her stomach knotted. She unconsciously reached for the sword at her side, only to be reminded that she was wearing a ball gown, and there was still a dance going on behind those doors. She was stupid and careless enough to have gathered all the important people here tonight.

"The Commander went after the intruder, Your Majesty. We suspect there are more than one."

"Fucking idiot!" cried Y/N as she picked up her skirt and ran. She heard Lance telling the guard to keep the ballroom secured and make sure no one came and left. Then he chased after her.

If that idiot Harry didn't die tonight, she would kill him with her bare hands.

.

.

.

Harry wanted to skip the dance. People had been whispering about him since he'd returned, so he didn't want to draw more attention to himself by dancing with the Queen herself. However, he'd promised Y/N he'd be there for her, and he never wanted to let her down. And so he deliberately took a bit longer to get ready just to show up late and blend right into the crowd.

The castle was so quiet tonight with almost everyone being in the ballroom. Harry could hear the music all the way from his chamber. He took one last look at himself in the mirror before adjusting his mask and leaving for the dance. He was accompanied by a guard, which made him quite uncomfortable. Still, he knew it was all for his safety. Everyone must be careful after the murder of George Wallace.

"Help!" a scream tore through the night, causing both Harry and the guard to whirl around. A shadow dashed out of the darkness and crashed right into him. He caught the person with both arms and was terrified to find that it was a woman covered in blood.

Mary.

"Help!" she choked, tears streaming down her scarred face. Her hands were shaking as she smeared blood all over his shirt. "They're...they're dead! They wanted to kill me!"

"Who?"

"The guards," Mary sobbed, her face as white as the moon-washed floor. "They're dead! A man killed them and...was chasing after me! He had a weapon!"

"Take her somewhere safe," Harry told the guard, pulling Mary up to her feet.

"You're not coming, Commander?" the guard asked Harry.

Harry opened his mouth to answer when all of a sudden, he spotted a tall and slim figure lurking in the shadows of the corridor. It vanished in a blink of an eye. Harry knew it headed to the courtyard for there was nowhere else to go.

"There are intruders in the castle," Harry told the guard, his heart pounding. "Send backups. Alarm the King and Queen!" And without waiting for the guard or Mary to stop him, Harry ran after whom he assumed was the murderer.

He didn't stop until he was deep in the garden. The snow was falling peacefully all around while the beating of his heart accelerated. Thousands of tiny candles dotted ledges hidden throughout the topiaries. It would have seemed magical had the fog ever lifted. Now the little lights played strangely with the mist, creating shadowy phantoms, there one moment and gone the next. Harry gripped his sword with cold and numb fingers, overwhelmed with anxiety as he scanned his eyes around.

Suddenly, he became aware of another's presence behind him and swung his sword just in time to deflect the blow. The person stumbled back. A clang of metal on metal. A whoosh. Harry let out a gasp as he felt the cold tip of the blade at his throat. Meanwhile, he was holding his sword with an outstretched hand, pointing straight at Lance's heart.

"You," Lance said, catching his breath. He seemed relieved, which confused Harry.

"You!"

"Peach!" Harry and Lance bounced away from each other as Y/N rushed up to them. She looked beautiful in her golden dress, yet she also looked angry...

"Mind explaining what happened?" she asked before Harry could open his mouth. Lance put his sword away, assessing Harry with a raised eyebrow.

"Someone killed the guards outside Mary's room," Harry said, hating the way Y/N's face grew grim. "They tried to kill her but she escaped."

Y/N groaned as she hugged her arms around her chest, gooseflesh rippling over all that bare skin. It was far too cold to be out.

"You shouldn't be here," Harry said. Y/N's eyes sharpened furiously at him. He was expecting her to snap when a broken branch alerted the three of them.

"Y/N!" cried Lance, but he didn't react fast enough. Y/N had yanked the sword out of his hand and chased after the figure. Harry could see it a bit clearer now. It looked like a man wearing a dark cloak. He exchanged horrified looks with Lance and both sprinted after Y/N and the intruder.

"Show your face!" Y/N shouted as she studied the garden in silence. From where they stood, the ballroom, shining so brightly inside, could barely be seen. The orchestra's music echoed eerily in the fog. Y/N looked half-crazed. Her words came out in smoke. "Surrender and maybe I'll spare your life."

There were footsteps padding towards them, gaining speed, closing the distance. There was more than one person.

As they closed in, Harry spun around. He drew his sword and struck at eye level. A cry of pain answered him. Y/N deflected the blow and lunged with her sword, which met with the figure's blade which gleamed in the moonlight. Beside Harry, Lance was dodging every strike. He was quick, yet unable to fight back without a weapon.

Harry heard Y/N mutter something under her breath, her eyes met his for a second, and he could see the helplessness in them. She wanted to protect Lance.

Harry took down the man charging at him with a swing of his sword before thrusting it right through the one cornering Lance. Lance looked up at him, wide-eyed, breathing out smoke. He hadn't expected Harry to help him.

Y/N's sudden cry startled both men. They turned. Like a silver snake, the last intruder's sword shot out and caught Y/N in the shoulder. She fell with a hard thud to the ground.

"Peach!"

"Y/N!"

Lance and Harry bolted towards her. The murderer took that chance to flee, disappearing into the fence maze when Harry looked up. The heavily falling snow had covered all the footsteps like a perfect accomplice. The garden returned to its peacefulness as if there hadn't been a crime committed against the Queen.

"I'm fine," Y/N said, wincing as she held her shoulder. Red blood was trickling down her skin, staining the snow, bringing back to Harry the unpleasant memories of those nights in the woods. He was reminded once again that he could lose her any moment if they weren't careful.

Lance put an arm around her as he helped her stand up. Harry tore his sleeve and wrapped the piece of fabric around her wound to temporarily stop the blood. His heart ached as he watched her bite back the pain. Blood had stained her beautiful dress. Then, Harry noticed that Lance was looking at her with the same agony in his eyes. It was like looking into a mirror. Harry and Lance both hurt the same.

"Y/N!"

"Your Majesty!"

Jo and five guards finally showed up. Jo gasped into her palms when she saw that Y/N was bleeding. "Oh, Y/N, you're hurt!"

"Took you long enough!" Lance snapped at the guards. "I would have had all of you beheaded had something bad happened to the Queen!"

The guards muttered their apologies which were silenced by Lance's raised hand.

"I don't think they wanted me dead," Y/N spoke. She sounded strangely calm for someone who'd just been stabbed. "If they did, they would've killed me already."

"They're here for the witch. They knew she betrayed them," Lance said.

"Betray?" Jo muttered.

Lance's expression shifted. Harry reckoned that Lance hadn't meant to let Jo find out this way. Harry wasn't sure he was more shocked by the news or Jo's reaction to it. He had never seen her so genuinely hurt by anyone that wasn't Y/N.

"She was a spy for Calanthe," said Y/N, seemingly too in pain to acknowledge her friend's pained expression. "Don't worry. We'll take care of that."

"You're not going to...hurt her, are you?" Jo said, her voice wavering.

Lance placed a hand on Jo's shoulder. For the first time, he was showing sympathy with a servant. "We're not. Don't worry."

Jo nodded, yet the uncertainty was etched on her face as she wrapped an arm around Y/N's waist, escorting her back inside.

.

.

.

Harry lit a candle beside Y/N's bed. She was lying on her back, watching him. Her shoulder had been bandaged. It didn't hurt as much as before yet she could not shake off the fear she'd felt earlier in the garden. She wished she'd seen those men's faces. She believed they were the Monks. Calanthe had either sent them here to kill the witch or to light a match that would start a war.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, his hand placed over of hers.

"About what?" she chuckled. "Tonight wasn't your fault."

"You came to the garden to find me."

"Yes, I did it by choice." She squeezed his fingers and cracked a reassuring smile. "I can take care of myself. Don't you worry. I'm brave."

"I know," Harry sighed. "Brave people tend to get themselves in trouble."

Y/N snorted as she rolled her eyes. "Trouble follows me everywhere I go. So many people have wanted me dead. But look at me now. I'm the Queen, and I'm not losing my crown to anyone. I'm not letting them take my father's kingdom."

Harry exhaled, a smile playing on his lips. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she said.

There was a knock on the door. "Y/N?"

"It's–"

"Lance," Harry said, his expression unreadable.

The door creaked open and Lance poked his head into the room, looking surprised to see Harry there. "I'll leave," Lance said.

"No, I'll leave," Harry said, smiling at Y/N. "Goodnight, my queen." Then, he kissed her hand and got up to go.

"Hey," Lance stopped him halfway through the door. "Thank you for earlier."

"No problem," Harry replied. With just that, he was gone, shutting the door on his way out.

"Glad to see my fake future wife still alive," Lance said as he made his way to the bed to sit down at Harry's previous spot.

Y/N let out a light laugh. "I'm sorry I took your sword."

Lance squinted his eyes in amusement. "Yeah, and still, you managed to get yourself hurt."

She scowled at him and punched his shoulder as a joke. He pretended to wince in pain before busting out laughing. "Sorry." Lance cleared his throat, suppressing a grin. "How's your shoulder?"

"It hurts less. Thanks for asking."

"It wasn't like you to be so careless," he said.

Y/N pursed her lips. "I was distracted."

"By?"

"I was...worried you'd get hurt," she mumbled. Even without looking at him, she could still feel his notorious smirk growing wider.

"Don't let that happen on the battlefield," he said. "I can take care of myself, with a sword, of course. But you should always remember that the enemy wants your head more than mine."

Y/N swallowed hard as Lance reached out his hand. She watched him ponder for a second before gathering enough courage to place his hand on top of hers. Just like Harry had before. Harry's touch had been natural and comfortable. As for Lance, she felt him turning into a bundle of nerves.

"You're too good for me," she said.

His eyes danced as he chuckled. "No one is too good for anyone." Then he sucked in a breath. "I hope we'll both be alive after this."

"We will," she said even though she was unsure.

"What will happen then?"

"We get married. For our kingdoms."

Lance's smile faltered. He clenched his jaw and looked away, his fingers sliding off hers. "We don't have to if Calanthe's dead," he whispered.

"Our people expect a wedding."

Lance shook his head and switched his gaze back to her. "Forget what the people want. What do you want, Y/N?"

"I can't just forget what the people want. I'm their queen."

Lance's lips slightly parted yet he said nothing more. It was hard to tell if he'd run out of arguments or simply didn't want to start.

"Let's try to stay alive and find out," he said with a thin smile. "Goodnight."

She watched him get up, looking rather weary. The complete opposite of the charming king he'd been at the dance.

"Why did you say it was our last dance?" she asked before he reached the door.

He looked over his shoulder, lips curled to the side. "It was a joke. Because you said you didn't want to dance with me, which I hope was also a joke."

"It was." She gave a small smile. "I loved dancing with you."

"Good," he said, weakly. "Rest well, Y/N."

"So do you," Y/N said.

As quietly as a shadow, Lance slipped out of the room.

[randomingoftherandomness]

Can you write about Mr.queen with bongwan and the king . Could you make it so he ends up in the queens body again and meets his child and the king again. Just for short while.

A/N: This is premium, Grade A+ Angst right here. I love it. Also, Canon is a bitch and therefore I made it mine.

—

The air in his lungs is clearer somehow when he breathes in. Fresher and sweeter. Familiar in the way Bong Hwan had found on long hikes in the mountains when the longing and the wishing got too much; where he was the only one for miles, where he could grieve and no one would ask him why.

All around him, the sun casts a soft muted glow. Blurring out the edges of this reality. This is a dream and that much Bong Hwan knows is true.

Soft susurration of the wind through the trees draws his eyes to the two children playing in the garden. A boy and a girl, their faces are obscured from him. His heart beats achingly, desperate to call out to them, to reach out and call out their names just for the off chance he can see their faces.

“Why do you look so sad, my Queen?”

Bong Hwan feels his breath catch in his throat and with a great effort, turns his head to look upon the face that has haunted his every moment since he returned to his own time. “Your Highness,” He breathes, voice soft as the words escape him to hang in the air between them. Bong Hwan reaches out and Cheoljeong moves to meet him, wrapping strong arms around him with a laugh and a kiss to his brow.

“My Queen, have the children tired you out again?” Cheoljeong asks. Bong Hwan blinks. He inhales again. Barely withstanding the unspooling of hot tears in his eyes.

Pushing back over the insurmountable longing and grief he feels drowning him from the inside out, he makes himself say, “How could they not? They’re our children, after all.”

The bark of unrestrained and unmasked amusement is worth the stab of pain that lances through his heart. Bong Hwan holds on to Cheoljeong tighter, openly weeping now. “I’ve missed you, that’s all.”

Another kiss to the crown of his head and he feels Cheoljeong pull back a little. Careful, tender hands caress his cheeks and clever eyes study his face as gentle thumbs wipe away his tears. “We’re never too far apart, my Queen. Wherever you go, you take my heart with you.”

Bong Hwan reaches back to him, mirroring his loving touch. His vision is blurry from his tears, breath sticking heavy in his throat as he sobs uncontrollably.

“I love you, you know?” Bong Hwan chokes out. “I miss you so much.”

Cheoljeong doesn’t reply to that, instead he leans in, pressing their lips together.

When he wakes, Bong Hwan chokes on the salt of his tears, curling to his side in the phantom memory of someone that isn’t there.

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Today in Tolkien - January 13th

On January 13th the Fellowship battle an attack from the warg-pack just before morning, and walk to Moria all day (it’s about 20 miles, or 32km, and this is coming after two nights of little sleep, an attempt to climb a mountain, and walking all of the previous day - the hobbits are tougher than Aragorn gave them credit for in Bree!). They reach the Moria-gate at evening, ponder the mystery of how to open the gate, are attacked by the Watcher in the Water, enter Moria, and begin to be followed by Gollum.

Of all the things the movies cut, I’m surprised they cut the attack by the warg-pack, since it’s very Hollywood-friendly. I suppose they simply didn’t have space. The hobbits don’t fight in this one, but everyone else is very impressive:

Through the throat of one huge leader Aragorn passed his sword with a thrust; with a great sweep Boromir hewed the head off another. Beside them Gimli stood with with his stout legs apart, wielding his dwarf-axe. The bow of Legolas was singing.

In the wavering firelight Gandalf seemed suddenly to grow: he rose up, a great menacing shape like the monument of some ancient king of stone set upon a hill. Stooping like a cloud, he lifted a burning branch and strode to meet the wolves. They gave back before him. High on the air he tossed the burning brand. It flared with a sudden white radiance like lightning; and his voice rolled like thunder.

“Naur an edraith ammen! Naur dan in ngaurhoth!” he cried.

There was a roar and a crackle, and the tree above him burst into a leaf and bloom of blinding flame. The fire leapt from tree-top to tree-top. The whole hill was crowned with dazzlibg light. The swords and knives of the defenders shone and flickered. The last arrow of Legolas kindled in the air as it flew, and plunged burning into the heart of a great wolf-chieftain. All the others fled.

In the morning there are no wolf-corpses. This seems like a departure from The Hobbit, where the wargs are real, physical wolves - just evil talking ones. The wargs that attacked the Fellowship are some kind of evil spirit, likely similar to the wolves of Sauron at Tol-in-Gaurhoth at the first age. Are they very minor maiar? They don’t seem powerful enough for that. Are they the dead spirits of men and elves given wolf-shape? Sauron is called the Necromancer.

This is the point where Boromir clearly starts to be unhappy about the journey and the Fellowship, and he remains that way through Lothlórien and after.

“I do not know which to hope,” said Boromir grimly: “that Gandalf will find what he seeks, or that coming to the cliff we shall find the gates lost for ever. All choices seem ill, and to be caught between wolves and the wall the likeliest chance. Lead on!”

The Fellowship reach the lake created by the Watcher in the Water at sunset.

The day was drawing to its end, and cold stars were glinting in the sky high above the sunset, when the Company, with all the speed they could, climbed up the slopes and reached the side of the lake.

They walk around the lake’s shore, cross a creek, and come to the base of a cliff where the doors are. Gandalf seems to be at a bit of a loss, “standing between the two trees [holly trees that mark the borders of Hollin] gazing at the blank wall of the cliff as if he would bore a hole into it with his eyes.” He only thinks of the signs on the doors when prompted by Gimli, and then he says words that make the ithildin symbols and writings become visible. He says ithildin “sleeps until it is touched by one who speaks words now long forgotten in Middle-earth. It is long since I heard them, and I thought deeply before I could recall them to my mind.”

I think Tolkien made a small error here in having the doors say “Moria” (a name given to it by the elves after it was abandoned and dangerous) instead of “Khazad-dum” (the dwarves’ name for it when they had a kingdom there).

I can translate bits of Gandalf’s attempts at pass-words. (Fortunately the doors don’t block you if you get it wrong three times.) In Annon edhellen, edhro hi ammen! Fennas nogothrim, lasto beth lammen! the first phrase means “Gate of the elves, open...” but I don’t have a meaning for “ammen” (which also occurs in Gandalf’s naur an edraith ammen spell for setting wood/trees on fire). Based on cadence and my gut, I would guess that the second phrase is a repetition of the first in a different dialect or language.

As we know, Gandalf figures out the password is “Mellon” (friend), the Watcher in the Watee attacks Frodo, the Fellowship escapes into the mines, and the gates are destroyed. After climbing up a wide stairway in Moria, they stop for dinner.

They continue walking for several hours inside Moria on the night of the 13th-14th. And it is a very unsettling journey:

There were in many places holes and pitfalls, and dark wells beside the path in which their passing feet echoed. There were fissures and chasms in the walls and floor, and every now and then a crack would open right before their feet. The widest was more than seven feet across, and it was long before Pippin could summon enough courage to leap over the dreadful gap. [Yipes! Sympathy for Pippin - I’d balk at jumping across a seven-foot-wide chasm in the dark, and I’m not four feet tall.]

A short time after this Frodo hears Gollum following the Fellowship.

[nosunwithoutshadow]

finally posting for day 1 of darklina week! (I have no concept of time)

Rating: M Chapters: 1/1 Words: 2k Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Universe, Fluff and Angst, Character Study, Loneliness, Angst with a Happy Ending, Feels

Summary: It’s the worst kind of cliche, but Aleksander doesn’t realize what he’s missing until it’s gone.

also on ao3

Aleksander misses it. The light. 

He didn’t realize it at first, in those lost few months after he tore the world apart to protect his people. Time stretched oddly then, as he adjusted to his new reality. He felt off balance, constantly teetering on the edge of falling into the abyss he created. The merzost coiled in his soul, making a home in his bones, craving more with each breath. He’d known the magic required a sacrifice before he stepped in front of the dead king’s army, accepted it, but a martyr never knows what they will have to give up to their cause before it’s ripped from them. 

(cont. under the cut)

He only discovers what’s missing later. After emerging from the other side of the void into a new world, one he has shaped, will continue to shape. He gathers what self possession he has left and returns to the capital, presenting himself as a tame housecat for the throne to use at their pleasure, repentant for the misdeeds of his family and content to hunt mice for the reward of a warm hearth and occasional pat. He blunts his fangs, hides his claws, and bats at toys tossed his way for the crown’s amusement, a domesticated predator biding his time. He returns to the tatters of the sanctuary he had begun to build and teaches every Grisha he can save how to sharpen their own claws so when the world comes for them, as it inevitably will, they will be ready. 

And when he has time to think again, when the urge to plunge the entire palace into a darkness they cannot escape has lessened enough that his bones don’t ache with the need, he stands in the courtyard of the Little Palace and breathes. He hasn’t lived without burdens since the day in his long-ago childhood when he realized that he and everyone like him would never be safe. It’s different now though, rather than weighing on him, the darkness drags him down, anchoring him to the earth like it would swallow him at any moment. And when he spreads his arms, exhaling and letting his eyes slip closed for the briefest moment, he feels…

Nothing. 

The days in Ravka are rarely truly warm, but dressed in all black, he’s used to the sun slanting down and soaking into his kefta. He sees the sun overhead, the near cloudless sky, feels a cool breeze rustle the fur at his cuffs, but the warmth he expects to feel doesn’t reach his skin. It’s as if he’s no longer quite part of this world, truly the abomination they call him, shunned even by the sun’s light. 

The small part of him that’s still human wants to strip off his layers in the lost hope that if he can only bare himself to the sun, it’ll be different. As if there’s any way he could ever give enough of himself to buy back what he’s sacrificed. He tilts his face up to the sky and feels nothing but the chill of the afternoon against his cheeks. 

His heart, that traitorous organ, hesitates before resuming its regular beat. He draws a deep breath, collects himself, and continues on his walk. He’d hardly been unaware that there would be a cost to his actions. Out of all the possible consequences, this is far from something that can’t be borne. He will find other ways to keep warm. 

Years pass, nearly too many to count, and yet he numbers every one. The time is counted in the lives he could not save, the indignities thrust upon his Grisha he cannot protect them from. The walls of the Little Palace grow higher, blocking the outside world and its taunting sun. Its light only serves to remind him of what he still can’t do: he can’t control the fold, can’t use it as the weapon he needs to protect his people, can’t stop them from being slaughtered beyond his limited reach, can’t promise them the true security they deserve.

He wears his layers like armor and tries to forget the missing pieces of his soul. He keeps the fireplaces of the Little Palace well stocked to ward off the cold. He nearly forgets what it feels like to have sunlight play across his skin, warming him even through winter’s chill.

But then.

And then.

Oh.

He’s spent centuries planning, but he could never have planned for Alina. Even less for what she would do to him. He touches her, and walls built over hundreds of years fracture, their foundations no longer solid. He sees her power, and he remembers dreams he no longer has any right to. He feels her warmth, and he finds he might give up what’s left of his soul to stay close enough for her heat to burn. 

It’s another small sacrifice to let go of her after that first touch, but he comforts himself with the knowledge that she won’t go far. He’s found her now, and the blinding potential of what that means threatens every ounce of his hard-won restraint. He rediscovers parts of himself he thought long-dead, pushing through dirt and cobwebs like a dormant seed, reaching out towards her sun. 

He will keep her close, there’s no question of that. Losing part of himself was torture enough the first time; he doesn’t know how he could bear it again. He’s endured so much, but not this. And she’s so much more than his scattered missing pieces. She’s life to his emptiness, the rushing river to his steady mountain, the celestial light to his earth-bound darkness. 

If he’d known just how much she was, he’s not sure he would have wanted her, the him before he met her. No blessing as potent as her comes without danger. And she is dangerous, all fire and fury, telling him “no” and crashing headlong into centuries worth of careful plans. Even so, he’s no fool to cast aside such a treasure, if he even could. He’ll hide her in his fortress, its defenses built for this day, and hone her into the weapon she was meant to be. 

It has to be said, his plans usually proceed much more smoothly. 

People are the fatal flaw to any plan, Aleksander knows, and that has never been more true than with Alina. Every time he thinks he’s learned to understand her, she surprises him again. He wants to hate her for that, at first. Even then, he can’t bring himself to, not really. His only consolation is those moments when he’s certain that she feels it too. That he’s not alone in this maddening need. She fills the empty spaces inside of him to overflowing, and even then, it’s still not enough. He’s never thought himself greedy, merely wanting what he’s earned, but for her, he might be. 

Even when their goals finally align, when at last she accepts him as her ally rather than her enemy, it’s still barely enough. It’s consuming, this need, more dangerous than merzost and infinitely more seductive. He can almost forget the hunger clawing at his soul when he’s with her, the warmth of her bathing his skin, sinking deep. She’s so powerful it’s blinding, and yet so unbearably human. A mess of contradictions, his Alina, and he wants to take the time to explore all of them. 

In the early days they don’t have much time for exploration, as one age gives way to another. The first time they bed each other is fast and desperate, fueled by all the times they’ve been denied before. It can’t even properly be called bedding, since they don’t make it farther than the nearest table. They manage to fall into bed together by the third time around, and the sense of completion as he slides into her, their eyes locked on each other, is enough to make all the centuries it took to get there worth it. Anger still simmers between them, and he can’t be certain that she won’t try to kill him before morning, but for this, he might let her. 

In the aftermath, he foolishly thinks that this must be the pinnacle. He holds her to him, reveling in the heat of her body and how perfectly it fits against his. Her light calls to his shadows, even lying quietly together like this, their bodies and spirits tangling into a single whole. 

He doesn’t have the frame of reference then to imagine how anything could be better, but then time stretches before them, and the walls between them slowly crumble. They rebuild and their lives mesh into one another, weaving around each other until they become inseparable. She reminds him of things he’d left behind, and he shows her what could lie ahead. He finds his shadows reaching out to her without realizing, what should be an unforgivable loss of control, but he can’t deny them their other half. He doesn't ask if she feels it too, conditioned by centuries to avoid any hint of weakness.

And he knows that there's no way he can complete her the way she fills the ache in his soul. It's an emptiness that's only grown over those same centuries, widened and deepened into a chasm he could never admit existed. She's his match in every way, but she's only lived a mere couple of decades. He can barely remember being that young, that long ago time when he knew so little about what was to come, what real loneliness meant. 

He clutches her to him at night, without meaning to, his body reacting to his mind’s unspoken fear that she may yet disappear. She lets him, sometimes tucking her body into the contours of his, other times turning in his hold to wrap her arms around him in return. 

They’re laying like this one night, her head against his chest, his nose brushing her hair, both sated and drifting on the edge of sleep. Aleksander idly considers his tasks for the next day, while his sun summoner traces patterns of light over his skin. She draws back, and he relaxes his hold enough to look down at her. Her thoughts are heavier than he expected, some inner struggle creasing her brow. He doesn’t expect the question that follows.

"Did you feel it, before me?" She hesitates, as if searching for the right word. "The… emptiness?"

And he remembers that he didn’t feel that much older than her when he'd opened the Fold, tearing apart the very fabric of the world out of his grief and desperation and fear of losing the people he had left. She may not be able to match the age-worn depth of his feelings, but he shouldn't underestimate the depth of them. The young feel everything so much more fiercely, he remembers. 

His mother had tried to tell him, back then, that what he felt would fade. He'd known she was wrong then, but he knows it with earned certainty now. Age may have dulled the edges of that grief, but to lose it would be to lose a part of himself. Time has given him perspective for those emotions as it held onto their all-consuming breadth. 

One forgot the passion of youth at their own peril. He'd made that mistake with Alina already. So many years, and still so much to learn. 

“Yes,” he answers. It costs him a small sliver of his pride, but the price is well worth it. In his arms, Alina relaxes, losing a small thread of tension he hadn’t realized she held. “I thought it was my burden to bear,” he continues. “I never thought we could have this.”

Her lips curve in the slightest smile. “I didn’t know what I was missing,” she admits. “Until I found you, I thought that’s how it was.”

He tightens his arms around her, pulling her up for a kiss. He takes his time, exploring the lips he’s come to know so well, reminding them both of what they’ve found together. 

“It might’ve been,” he says as they break apart. “But in a world where we met, I could never have stayed apart from you.”

She responds with a blush and a contented sigh as her lips return to his. They lay there together in their bed, passing kisses back and forth for nothing more than the pleasure of sharing them. The night deepens and, eventually, sleep catches up to them.

Alina relaxes in his arms, eyes fluttering closed. His shadows slip across the room and extinguish the last lamp. Comfortable darkness settles over the room while in the bed, Alina wraps Aleksander in her light.

[fandom-sheep]

Eret 11 MAY 21

Cat and DSMP Part 1/1

Cat! Goose!

Goose my beloved.

Eret’s streaming very late for me again. So I’m not staying the whole time.

Hello Elaina. Enjoy Goose.

Fundy! Kinda...

Fundy hearing the donations. LOL.

Fundy enters a stream and it starts to scuffed. Scuffed just follows Fundy wherever he goes.

A wild my beloved on the cube.

The Drista stairs.

Wait what. Why is the tower gone?

I have missed some lore.

Ah... it’s part of the nightmare thing.

Eret offering Fundy housing like a good almost adoptive parent.

Sneeze? OH WOW SNEEZE.

Sounds like Fundy about lost a lung. Good gracious.

The bargaining between these two.

Cat, Handsome, said cube was massive

You know what that works.

It’s hard to keep the audio right for Eret’s stream for my headphones. It’s either too quiet or the loudest my headphones can go and my family can hear it.

On stream explosions. Noice.

Wow youtooz. Not super cool. Permission is usually a good thing.

Eret keeps on sizzling.

Getting dirt for scaffolding. Going old fashioned Minecraft for this.

“Why is the Cube kinda hot” cue Eret losing faith in her chats sanity.

Cube go poof.

Oh. Red stone. That’s dangerous.

I like this song. Oh klahoma. Gorgeous song.

Love joy is such a fun band. I want to make a plushy of the cat.

It’s kinda sad that Eret can’t see themselves the way chat and their little fandom sees them. Most all of us think they look fabulous.

Not Arson. Just bombing. A bit of anarchy by the king.

Demolition. Now there’s the word.

Controlled ish demolition.

Ah I’ve almost saved enough channel points for water. Nice. I’m not going to redeem it I’m just going to keep hoarding the points.

Flame Arrow. Nice.

Eret cleaning up the SMP eye sours.

Watch me attempt to sleep to Eret here in an hour or so, but keep getting distracted.

Explosion time.

Someone get ready to clip it.

Bye Bye Cube. Let’s go.

Gotta get a song that fits the vibe.

Hayloft. Time to go poof.

Turning up my brightness just to watch this explosion in the best way possible.

Still wearing the red dress I see.

I hope the music isn’t too loud to get this part muted.

Drum roll...

Drum roll continues...

Drum roll still going...

THERE GOES THE CUBE!

That was so smooth and good looking!

Overall a very good explosion.

Just a little bit of a hole in the other building.

Twitch Pr-

Poor being’s so confused with his hair. Someone help them.

Twitch bleep.

Everyone attempting to give hair styling advice. Everyone’s trying to help the being.

That bird is majestic. I remember seeing that tiktok.

Animals just decided Eret was the animal whisperer.

Yes! Disney Princess Eret fanart! Someone make it, I shall reblog all of it.

Likes to hug cute animals and cute animals like being hugged by her. Nice.

It’s alright. Names are difficult. I have to like put name tags on people to learn who they are. That or name tags on their space (like on campers bunks and door decs on dorms)

It does feel very February. But I’m very ready for summer because that means I get to do my favorite job.

Hooray. I hit 15k points.

Eret trying to prove to us a ponytail won’t work. Like we aren’t going to hype them up no matter what.

Gotta heart in the chat. All Eret’s chat does is hearts and encourage. It’s a lovely place.

Oh Eret forgot his cat ear sub goal. It’s alright I know I forgot.

Pride is next month. Nice.

Oh. We’re almost halfway already. Why does the world spin so quickly?

We forgot a dirt tower. Whoops.

I would wear Eret merch. I like it when people release merch around Christmas. Then I can ask for it as a gift.

Oh it wasn’t a dirt tower.

Just looking at Elaina’s stream in the stream selection screen it like very cozy.

All the way up the Drista stairs.

Look it’s the museum!

Eret’s got most of the builds around there. The museum. The fortress. Nice.

Some things are too historical to remove. Somethings are historical because they are being removed.

Oh no. L’sandburg.

It’s taking over the summer home.

Ah the lore is coming. It just seemed to be too early.

Hello unofficial ranboo Raiders.

Foolish making the awesome tall thingy!

Foolish’s builds are so neat. I want to watch Foolish’s streams more. Maybe just in the background but I start wanting to delayed liveblog and that requires attention.

Oh the giant portal turned out well. Sorry that was the lady’s foolish stream I watched.

Shulkers. The forbidden mob.

Eret with just a pit in the desert filled with llamas. Bones. And discus.

The mansion has been finished?

Alright is better than bad. It’s alright to be alright.

Lucky being not getting tired. I got the Johnson and Johnson vaccine and I was so so tired. I also had just no appetite.

Eret doing an smp tour. And looking at foolish’s builds.

Flickering the switch on the rainbow beacons.

Eret just knowing where everything is.

Kinoko is super pretty. Just for the aesthetic value of the kingdom I appreciate it.

Yeet. Just defenestrated himself out the window.

Oh? Spectator fly over the smp?

That would be really neat to like. Watch in VR. I think I’ve only used VR maybe twice.

Pretty Rainbow beacons.

The nurse who gave me my vaccine hid the needle from me because I mentioned to her that I was afraid of needles. It wasn’t a big deal at all.

30 minutes till I attempt sleep. Woo.

Goose my beloved. Someone make the gif because I’m not quite sure how to make it.

Oh yeah. Goose in Marvel. I hear MCU and think Minecraft cinematic universe. Not marvel.

Ghibli is so nice. It really romanticize small moments of life.

Yeah the characters are all really supportive in Ghibli movies.

Someone subbed for nine months “that’s enough to make a child” -Eret

That mansion is like a maze. I’m so lost already.

Everyone encouraging Eret and telling her she looks pretty. Good.

Eret needs all the hype and encouragement.

Antarctic empties flag. Yeah it does have a similar color pallet.

Michelle! Hello!

Fortress work. Nice.

Do it. I’ll listen the Eret play other games.

I don’t usually watch game play for non Minecraft games. But I’ll listen to it all.

Hbomb and Eret living in the same city feels like two worlds that shouldn’t meet. But it’s awesome that they have.

TOS means against twitches terms of service. Nice. Glad to finally have an explanation of what that means.

Look at our handsome and pretty streamer. All the hype.

I keep turning down the stream to hear the show my mama has on because I’m curious about what happens.

Yeah. Backseat gaming can be annoying. That’s part of why I share my thoughts here just in case I do start backseat gaming.

Almost to the sub goal. Hooray!

Ooo food.

No no. I see where they are coming from. Eret does give a bit of cat bus vibes. I can’t explain it but the vibes are there.

Creeper causing issues at the fortress.

Ed Sheepran my beloved.

I should draw more ferrets. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe I’ll draw us doing stuffs.

Actually I kinda want to make a little animatic of some heels walking across the screen followed by a hoard of ferrets. I think it’ll look cool. But I need the artistic ability and the ability to not scream making that.

Woop. Ad time. Off to the void of where ever the ads game me.

OH THE NEW VOID LOOKS COOL!

Bread. Flowers. Ted. Crown. And of course Eret.

We V O I D and get our streamer bits.

Hush the chat is V O I D and the occasional emoji or emote.

The void being centered looks good. Maybe that’s just the symmetry speaking but it’s good.

Oh. We hear the being. The being in void mode. And spooky mode.

Chat just starts yelling corpse.

Hydration. I try to stay hydrated. But I fail often if I’m not doing something active.

Tree!

Casually makes and snags tree.

Eret does read chat often. It’s strange. And it is weird how often it ends up being you.

You can tell I’m a tumblr peep. I may say stuff in chat but I’m fully not expecting or wanting to be noticed by the streamer.

Others hitting darkness o’clock and saying goodnight.

It’s sleep to the stream hours y’all. Whoop.

I need to visit the parks out west. I’ve only really seen the eastern US ones. But I have been to the Great Smokey Mountain park which is gorgeous.

Eret thinking of his friends triggers when naming his cat.

Eret’s builds are so casually pretty. Not like Foolish’s which are intricately pretty. Not like Phil’s or Sam’s which are complicated pretty. All pretty. Just different breeds of pretty.

Alrighty. It’s sleepy hours for me. As much as I love Eret I want to read some fanfiction and daydream a bit before I head to sleep.

Have a good rest everyone and may all your coming meals be delicious.

Wait no is it our turn with goose?

OUR TURN WITH GOOSE!

Eret honey that’s the ceiling.

Cat stream. Cat stream.

Sleepy kitty. A cat cam would be good.

Yeah. That happens with cats. Especially strays.

Goose captured the computer mouse.

Goose straight up chose Eret and Elaina.

Goose really just chose not to leave.

Oh my stream connection is acting sad. But I want Goose content.

I want to draw Goose now.

Maybe I’ll do water color for Goose. I know I tried to do that with Boots (Fundy’s cat)

Hopefully there will be some Goose face screenshots I can see. Maybe I can see him well in the Tiktok.

Artists just violently refusing payment. Sounds about right. The MCYT artists just kinda go “yeah give credit and we cool”

Cowboy cat. Nice.

I want to paint Goose in the cowboy hat.

Hype train! That we are zooming.

Bucket sponge?

WATER BUCKET FROM WET SPONGE! Tiktok people giving all the cool info.

Go Goose. Catch the computer mouse and the screen mouse.

Just sitting here at 11:30 at night getting screen shots of Goose for painting purposes.

Goose please. Look at the camera babe.

My phone is dying. And I can’t charge it and type.

Alright the camera is off the cat. The cat is also blocking the screen.

But no cat on camera means I’m getting some sleep. If I do any of the projects I’ve mentioned I’ll let y’all know.

Have a good rest everyone.

[obeyme-sinners]

Love languages with the boys (pt 3)

And finally, we have come to the undateables... not gonna lie, these were a struggle for me since we don’t see as much of them in the game, but I did my best based on what I’ve seen and what my own headcanons are for them! We got Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon here!

(I swear that someday I’ll stop writing in the time past midnight, but tonight is not that night)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Diavolo

Receiving

All he wants~ is your time~ and your touch~ like seriously, he will actually melt whenever you show up out of the blue to hang out with him. He’ll make the time to make sure that you two are undisturbed, and he’ll love to just sit around and listen to you talk as he plays with your hair. Or he’ll help you out with homework but you’ll have to keep him from just telling you the answers so that you’ll have some more leisure time with him... you’ll probably have to talk him out of moving you to the castle so you won’t have to make the walk from the House of Lamentation and back so often.

Second tier stuff is gifts and words of affirmation. He’s generally not a huge person for gifts, because people will just buy him like, whatever is super expensive or flashy. But if you give him something personal, like something that means something to you, or something that you made yourself?? He will treasure it for the rest of time, seriously. And really, he’s generally pretty confident... but for the few times where he starts feeling really stressed about all his goals and dreams, nothing will help him feel better like you do when you just give him some encouragement and help him work through his thoughts on the matter.

His bottom thing is acts of service. He just... doesn’t entirely see the point of it, when he has a legion of servants (and, uh, Barbatos) to help him out. It’s nothing you need to worry about, really! Everything that needs to be is covered, and the small mountain of paperwork is really just... something that needs his signature, so he has to do that stuff on his own (unless he decides to give Lucifer some of the pile, but he doesn’t entirely like having to do so)

Giving

Honestly, this guy just wants to have you around him all the time. And he wants you as close as he can get you... at all times. Because honestly to him there’s no way to show your affection like being able to hold the object of your affection. Like, as the honorary ruler of the Devildom (honestly at this point he might as well be crowned King with how long his father has been sleeping) he can do whatever the hell he want - and if he wants you in his lap, you’re gonna be there. At least, as long as you’re alright with it. He draws the line at forcing you into anything, because honestly it’s no fun if you’re not willing. But during meetings, while he’s working on paperwork, even sometimes during meals, he’ll have you in his lap and will continue working smoothly around you. He’s talented like that. And kind of an add on to this - gifting. His gifting is ridiculous when he really gets invested. He will shower you in everything you could ever want, and just add on a uhhhhh fat stack of cash on top of that just in case there’s something that you want that he somehow missed.

After all that, his lesser language is words of affirmation. He’s pretty good with his words, but sometimes after long days of meetings and speeches and working out school events and administration issues and whatever concerns teachers or students might have brought up... he just wants to chill out and stop talking for a while. He’d rather just hold you close and snuggle up to you. But when he does start talking, watch out because he will make you turn as red as his hair with his silver tongue. Also probably one of the best people ever to talk you out of emotional ruts, if you need it.

Lastly, once more, his bottom language is acts of service - unless sending someone else to help you out counts? He’s lived as royalty all his life, he’s used to getting minor things taken care of at the wave of a hand. Anything that really requires him in particular is usually more for necessity than anything, so he doesn’t really see it as an affection thing.

Barbatos

Receiving

With this guy, be prepared - any time he may or may not get away from serving Diavolo (or anyone else, for that matter) that happens to line up with your free time is going to be monopolized by him. He’s always working, but he craves to spend what time he has with you, and it grates at him when he can’t. But when you show up at the castle just before dinner and meet him in the kitchen while he cooks for Diavolo and his guests, he can’t help the smile that finds him. He’ll probably be smiling all the way through his time as he gets to talk to you and hear about your day. Along with that, he’s an absolute sucker for praise and though he might not show it, little reassurances that his service and his efforts are appreciated and not so taken for granted will really lift his spirits.

After that, his next languages are touch and acts of service. He enjoys the little ways that you show your affection, with little brushes of your hands against him or a quick hug given as a hello or goodbye, it’ll always leave him craving a little more and thinking back on it while he works. And really, if you even just offer to take on some little task for him, it is always deeply appreciated, though depending on what it is he may... or may not end up wanting to watch over you and help you through it.

His bottom is gifts! He loves getting little baubles and trinkets from you, but they really aren’t necessary to him. He’ll still thank you for each one and make sure to keep them on his shelves or something so he can see them when he’s getting ready for the day and start it off with a smile.

Giving

Maybe at this point it’s kind of ingrained in him or maybe it’s the thing that he knows that he can do best - but his top love language is acts of service. He just like... automatically finds himself falling into habits around you so that he can help you along with anything that you might need, though he’s much less formal with you than he usually is when with company. You can definitely tell that he’s doing it for you and not because he’s being told to by a superior. Also with that, gifting! Be ready to find little tokens of his appreciation in the places where you’re usually sitting or hanging out. Dried flowers, crystals and gemstones, rings or necklaces or other little pieces of jewelry that aren’t too conspicuous - he’ll leave them when he passes by wherever he knows you will be later, even if it’s as little as a few minutes later. No one dares touch said gifts for fear of him coming after them. 

This is where quality time and words of affirmation comes in for him~ as said earlier, when he knows that you both have some free time that lines up well, he’ll be there to hang out for as long as possible. And if you’re feeling down, he’ll do his best to get Diavolo to release him from his daily duties early (not too hard, though Dia is always reluctant to go without his cooking at dinner) so that he can head over and comfort you. He’s rather elegant with his words when he wants to be, and boy can he flirt, even - and especially - when he’s giving sincere compliments. Anything that he says you can take as truth, because honestly? He wouldn’t lie to you, and you can trust him with that at least.

His bottom language is touch. Though he does always want a little more from you, he’s kind of taught himself out of really needing it with his frightfully busy schedule - he’ll take it wherever he can get it, though.

Solomon

Receiving

For Solomon, his top languages are words of affirmation and time. He really just... likes to know that he is actually hot shit to someone (he’s not particularly self-conscious but when you’re constantly surrounded by incredibly powerful magical beings that would swat you like a gnat... it does shit to your perspective) and even if it isn’t about his magic! He loves to know that he really is someone that you care about! And really he just loves hanging around you - he spends a lot of time simply observing the world around him, and if you were to join him in doing so, he would thoroughly enjoy that (though it might turn into the two of you shit-talking others at some point. He’ll have you cackling along with him in no time when that happens)

Next up for him is physical touch and gifts. He loves getting little things from you, and most of the time he’ll be able to put whatever you give him to work in some form or another - using them to assist in his magic, potion-making, and whatever day-to-day things that he’ll find to use your gifts for. And, but for the times where he’s working his magic, he’ll love having your arm around him or having your fingers intertwined with his own while you’re sitting in class together.

For our magical lad, his bottom language is acts of service. He’ll appreciate it if you offer to help, but he generally prefers to do things himself.

Giving

First up, his top languages when he’s showing his love and appreciation for you is going to be words of affirmation and touch. Like, be prepared for him to be leaning close to you to whisper in your ear whatever compliments come to mind - they mind end up being a little... off the wall, and more than a little random, but they’ll usually get you to laugh along with him (probably while also getting you to blush). And he’ll also just want to have you wrapped around him at all times when he has the time for it. He loves having you in his lap, especially if you’re the right height for him to set his head on your head/shoulder. Top tier headrest right there.

Next up is gifts and quality time. He’ll probably show up to whatever dates you go on with some sort of magical item for you to have (or for you two to experiment with 030) and really... prepare to gather quite the collection of various magical items and potions. He’ll make sure to label everything with the appropriate usages and warnings so you know everything you need to about whatever he gives you~ and again, he really just likes spending time with you, watching people as they pass and snickering to you about how bad their outfits are. Shit talking king.

Once again, his bottom is acts of service... unless you consider the processes of making all the stuff he gives you acts of service, lol. He just thinks that there are better ways for him to show you his appreciation.

Simeon

Receiving

Wooo, finally to the precious angel~ now Simeon’s top love languages are gifts and acts of service, though really he’s not incredibly picky with any sort of love language you might use with him. He feels so incredibly happy when he gets something from you, whether it be something as simple as a cool rock you found or something that you made, or something that you spent money on for him - he will love each and every thing you give him. He just finds the things you give him so interesting, with the way you react to them. Each little thing is something for him to learn something about you through, and he couldn’t be happier because of that. And really, he feels especially appreciated when you put in the effort to help him with whatever he may be struggling with - you’re spending more energy than you should have to, just because you care about him.

After that, it’s touch and time (a popular pair, let’s face it). He adores spending his time with you, and he loves being able to even just hold your hand as the two of you walk around the Devildom. He’ll have his arms wrapped around your shoulders/waist with his head resting on top of you if possible while you’re standing together, eyes closed as he just takes in your warmth and your presence. And he especially loves movie nights, where he knows he can get comfortable for long periods of time with prolonged contact with you.

For him, his bottom one is words of affirmation - call it an angel thing, but he tends to just... already know what you’re trying to convey. He already knows for certain just how much you care for him, it’s obvious in all the other ways you show your affection for him.

Giving

When Simeon is the one that is showing his appreciation for you, his top languages are acts of service and words of affirmation! He’ll end up running little errands for you if he notices that you’re feeling overwhelmed, or if he just wants to be nice and lighten your burden just a little bit. And when he tells you of his affection for you, it will most often come in the form of little love notes. He most often will find proper cards to write on, but he’s not so picky that he won’t tear off a corner of a notebook page and pass you notes in class. Simeon has the most floral and sappy way of writing, too... so much pretty prose to describe just how deep his affection runs.

Next up isssss guess what, quality time and physical touch. Again, he just wants to be close to you - you’re so interesting, as a human and as someone who also just kind of got dumped into the Devildom. Based on the fact that you didn’t have any warning, he thinks that the way that you adapted to life there is simply incredible and he’s always wanting to find out more about you, in all the ways he can.

His last language is gifts - but as I mentioned earlier, he’s going pretty strong in all of these! He’ll still make little trinkets for you to fiddle with, bookmarks, little pieces of art or things that he thinks you could use. Really, he’s very thoughtful and will probably spend ample time making sure he’s got a handle on your personal style before he goes out of his way to give you anything.