#but this is how its like living with this many siblings
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wasyago · 2 days ago
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Please more Trail's gone cold au I'm begging you I need it just pour out every thought in your brain I want to hear it
hgdhhfbd i mean, sure why not
everything plot related is in the main post, there's nothing else really to tell. but i could share random details that didn't really fit into the lore drop. again tho, it's a small au and mostly an exploration of the concept, so there's not a lot.
❄️ gem and etho are siblings, i don't think it was mentioned anywhere? blood related and all that, they both have black hair, gem just dyes hers.
❄️ behind the scenes reasons for the order of deaths. generally i picked these three to be the main cast because i suddenly realized pet crew were just dungeon master and his two winners, and that was too crazy of a concept to not do anything with? so, tango as the main guy and actual master of the dungeon had to die first, seeing how he's the cave's favorite. pearl as the main explorer and as the one to unlock all the secrets had to die second, because she had to return to the dungeon / the cave to find out the truth, and she conquered it but never actually got out. and etho had to survive, because he's the "proper" winner and the one who actually escaped the dungeon with treasures.
❄️ lore reasons for the order of infection. tango you already know, but pearl and etho went in at the same time so in theory they had to start experiencing the effects together. but because etho was wearing a mask it did lessen the amount of sculk he inhaled, slowing down the process. wear masks kids!
and, well, you did say you wanted to hear every thought so. i really like the plot point of them leaving tango to die, so im gonna ramble a little about it. even just, the difference in their views on the situation is so satisfying to me. because tango had no idea something scary was happening to him! and for pearl and etho it was a life or death situation. and just-- they were talking about leaving tango and tango obviously, obviously, protested, because what the actual hell??? yes okay he's ill and a burden, but don't leave an ill guy to freeze to death in a cave, what is wrong with them????? or, okay, what is wrong with etho, pearl was against the idea. but, straight up tango did not plan for it to end this way, he had his whole life ahead of him and so many things ha still wanted to do! of course he cried when they left, what else was he supposed to do? thank etho for his awesome decision? be all cool and stoic and sacrifice himself? hell no, he didn't want to die, he never asked for this.
he did die tho, so. whomp whomp 🎺... i imagine he passed before pearl and etho even reached the stairs, so at least he didn't suffer for long. if he had a breakdown about being left alone he probably hyperventilated and inhaled like a ton more sculk, so that killed him even faster. must've sucked tho...
and then pearl, god, pearl.... she didn't encounter any dangers on the way back, since she wasn't trying to escape and the cave had no reason to be hostile towards her. but seeing how she was at the last stage before turning... she probably didn't get to tango before collapsing... not dying just yet, but too feverish and too weak to walk. but if tango was already back, he could very much go and find her. can you imagine the pure horror of drowning in your regrets as you slowly die and then having your supposedly already dead friend appear in front of you all cheery and oh so wrong. i dont know how much of tango is left in that thing, but the image of him sitting by pearl and holding her until she dies is so-- its haunting but it's sweet. and then there's still enough time to catch up with etho.
actually, gahhhh, all three pet povs are their own unique horror story and it's so good.
the horror of having to go through this terrifying experience, and then being the only survivor, knowing full well that the only reason you lived is because you left your friends to die, and there's no way of fixing it now.
the horror of everything falling apart around you because of miscommunication, and then the one time you decide to do it right you end up regretting every single decision and witnessing the direct result of your mistakes come for you.
the horror of being stupid... the horror of losing all control over your life and being betrayed in the moment of your most vulnerability, dying fully and utterly helpless.
this au is so sad but i love it so much...
okay wow that's enough for one post, ask more if you want tho!
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randomwriteronline · 19 hours ago
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"Sweet little one, standing upright, to me you appear dressed in white. But your red nose, what wonders it does: shortens your life the longer it glows."
"A candle," Velika smiled.
"Correct." Mata Nui replied. Then, he offered another riddle: "Which part of the bird has never soared the skies but slithers instead upon the ground, and swims on the surface of the water without ever getting wet?"
"The shadow."
"Correct. Two parents have five daughters; each daughter has a brother, and each brother has five siblings. How many members compose this family?"
"Eight."
"Correct. A beast of long legs, of strength filled to the brim - yet no eyes adorn its head, its intelligence quite dim."
"Pinchers."
"Correct. Today is the third of seven days. In seven years, which of seven will today be?"
"The fourth."
"Correct. I am that which cannot be touched, but inhabits all living things; I am what kills them, burning quietly, and through their mouths the plume of my combustion shows in the cold."
"Oxygen."
"Correct. Through my long black neck breathes my red heart, hacking out smoke as warmth from me departs."
"A stove."
"Correct. She who fights the winds and waves from the bowels of the seas to maintain her treasure so far away, thin yet heavy, weak yet invincible: who is she?"
"The anchor."
"Correct. A ship rotted upon the shore: each plank that fell away was slowly replaced, until it was remade completely new. Yet from the rotten planks, preserved adeguately, a second ship was constructed in the image of the original. Which one then is the true ship?"
"Both and neither," Velika smiled. He tilted his head in his hand, amused. "You're really not good at this."
"An 'and' is not an answer." Mata Nui replied: "Please choose."
"It doesn't matter, does it?"
"A rethorical question is not an answer. Please choose."
"The one from preserved wood."
"I see. A crow, dying of thirst, struggled to get water from a deep vase lodged in a pebbled shore. In its desperation, it began piling rocks upon one another; and so it saved itself. How?"
"By piling them in the vase, forcing the water upward."
"Correct. Swells all around you, like a glove fitting; never shall it hold you, cold embrace fleeting."
"Fog."
"Correct. An unusual farmer plows through a barren snowy field, sowing black seeds in quick succession; what he reaps is just one fruit which feeds many over the years, and never wilts, but only lasts as long as it is not burnt or faded."
"The written word."
"Correct. It is one of the visages by which we can be recognized, odorless, colorless, impalpable - and yet it can reach us far away."
"The voice."
"Correct. It is what the rich lack and poor have plenty of, what the strong fear and the weak have power over, what the happy desire and the dead need."
"Nothing."
"Correct. What am I doing?"
"Stalling me."
Mata Nui smiled: "Correct."
Velika did not move.
"It's useless, you know," he said, grin frozen upon his fake Matoran face as it struggled to hide his true one: "You can't stop me from my goal with these little guessing games of yours."
"I was under the impression you quite enjoyed making riddles."
"I made you."
"You helped. It was admirable, indeed; but it was not your labor alone. You are not one for the practical sciences, after all."
"I made you. You are a soul, a thinking brain. I allowed you to be that."
"You, and others."
"Does the fine print matter?"
"Of course it does. You would wrongfully claim full ownership over the universe entrusted to me otherwise."
"I made them. They are sapient because I allowed them as much."
"And you wish to destroy them now, as they are past their use, and for them to comply and go quietly to you, without making a mess, as otherwise it would be quite the inconvenience."
"Of course."
"Fathers owe their children as much as their children owe them."
"They're not my children," Velika laughed loudly as if that was the most hilarious thing he'd ever heard: "They are a successfully completed experiment! Archived and finished! I can't leave the mess of my previous project all over my desk if I want to start a new one, don't you think?"
Mata Nui did not move.
"You are awfully cruel in your insatiable curiosity." he noted simply. "Indeed, you are Teridax's father."
"I told you I don't have children."
"But we were your successors, were we not? A lonely god on a mindnumbingly long journey, one scientist in a team with delusions of grandeur."
"You are things I made. Things I gave awareness to. Nothing more."
"Nothing more?"
"Nothing more."
"Is this also your opinion of the universe within me?"
"Of course."
"Then you have no claim on us."
Velika raised his head from his palm and laughed. He laughed again, spitting out phonemes without a rhythm. He forced himself to laugh, because otherwise the confused wrath within him would have needed to explode in some other way.
"Pardon?"
"It brings a riddle to mind."
"I don't want a riddle. What did you just say?"
"Again, I was under the impression that you enjoyed posing riddles. At inopportune times most of all."
"Cut it. What did you say?"
"A woman bore her daughter, and decided it was not her duty to care for her: she still observed her growth over the years for sake of a morbid fancy, never intervening nor gaining any affection for her. At last the daughter found great happiness and fortune; and so her mother came, and demanded a part of her riches as compensation for giving birth to her. Was she right in requesting as much?"
"I said I don't want a riddle!"
"That is not an answer. Please choose."
"Quit that! What did you say to me?"
"That is not an answer. Please choose."
"You insulted me, is that it? You insulted me?"
"That is not an answer. Please choose."
"Shut up!"
"That is not an answer. Please choose."
"Fine! Fine, you broken piece of junk, fine. Repeat it, I didn't listen."
"A woman bore her daughter, and decided it was not her duty to care for her: she still observed her growth over the years for sake of a morbid fancy, never intervening nor gaining any affection for her. At last the daughter found great happiness and fortune; and so her mother came, and demanded a part of her riches as compensation for giving birth to her. Was she right in requesting as much?"
"No, she denied custody and has no say over her nor her belongings."
"Correct."
"So? What did you say?"
"I said the exact thing you repeated with your answer." Mata Nui replied. "You have shirked your responsability towards us, and you have no right to decide of our fate."
"You are things," Velika hissed: "Things are made!"
"We are people. People are made, too."
"People are born! They are thinking creatures!"
"Are we not, then?"
"No! You are things that I have given sapience to! You owe me life! Obedience! You owe me everything you are!"
"Are we then yours?"
"Yes!"
"By what virtue?"
"By virtue of creation!"
"By virtue of birth." Mata Nui repeated. "A virtue that we have agreed holds no water when a parent abandons their children."
Velika's eyes burned: "You are made," he insisted. "Not born."
"People are made, too. They are engineered by chance, put together by two others. The creation progress requires time and resources; afterwards, the new being needs to be programmed and taught what to do, what not to do, through trial and error."
"It's different. It's completely different. I gave you that intelligence. In people it's innate."
"From when? From the moment your cells are assembled? From the second you develop eyes? From the instant you are brought into the world, kicking and screaming? There is indeed an ability, innate, for understanding tasks and languages; but it all has to be instructed. Neither of us were born capable of speech, yet we could understand a language of our own, for that is how we were both built."
"Do not equate yourself to me. You are code, bits and pieces of electricity, the vague hint of a self."
"On that same electricity is based the neural system that is your 'I'."
"But I am your maker. I created you. Not the other way around."
"And so? You have denied custody of us. You refuse to recognize our personhood. Are you not our parent who abandons us, our creator who destroys us?"
"I have no children!"
"Then we do not owe you anything."
Velika raised his hand and grabbed the air, right where a neck should have been.
"I will kill you," he threatened: "I will annihilate you."
Mata Nui held his gaze without flinching: "That you can."
They remained still.
The room was empty.
"I had such knowledge to share... But it would have been too long to tell, I am afraid." he only lamented. "I have lived a long life, all in all - sometimes it has even been pleasant. A lousy god such as myself will not make much difference by now, alive or otherwise: my people have moved on from any whims that may have moved my requests once. Go on then, if it pleases you."
The hand twitched, but did not close.
It spasmed, clutching, hardening, but did not close.
Velika clenched his jaw, tightening his fist, but it did not close.
He tried, and tried, and tried, and tried, and tried; but it did not close.
"I will kill you," he hissed. But suddenly he wasn't sure he could.
Mata Nui waited.
Nothing happened.
His hand of thought - invisible, impalpable, barely real - grazed his creator's chin and lifted it slightly with his fingertips.
"What is it that the brilliant man standing before the machine he has made to do his bidding - to labor away endlessly in his stead, to travel where he would not, to learn what he could not, to sing and write and draw what he cannot - fears most of all?"
The Great Being did not answer.
Silence stretched over the small endless space the word should have been spoken into through his voice.
Mata Nui smiled.
"Leave." he ordered. "There is no place in this world for a god that treats its people like toys."
Velika lunged forward and grasped the Ignika in his hands.
By the time other beings arrived drawn in by the horrid noises, the body writhing and raving had lost its limbs, its bones, maybe even its skin. It clung to the golden artifact still somehow, trying desperately to claw at it, break it, unleash its wrath upon it as it continued to mutate the creature into something less and less able to function the longer it remained latched upon its surface by its own stubborn volition; it howled wordlessly, voice cawing through what was supposed to be its mouth in a garbled attempt at speaking, but there was no mind behind the gruesome wailing - just a violent, infinite, senseless anger.
It shrieked at them when they rushed to put it down, partly frightened to death by it, partly trying to spare it from the anguished existence it was bound to go on to live - screamed something, something that could have been 'obedience', or close enough.
Mata Nui did not stir from sleep.
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syndrossi · 2 days ago
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Restoration AU: Ned I
Previous part, Bran I, here.
NED 1
Ned was embroiled in discussions with Vayon regarding the additional food stores that would need to be procured to feast the king’s party in accordance with his expectations—and Robert’s expectations certainly tended toward the lavish—when Jory burst into his solar, looking so rattled that Ned rose in alarm, convinced that something had happened to one of the children.
“My lord,” he said. “There are—that is, your son, Bran—”
Before Ned could fear the worst, he caught motion beyond the door frame, and his gaze fell upon the auburn hair of his second-youngest as he poked his head in the door. Robb and Jon had also accompanied Jory, trailing just behind, and they looked as perturbed as his captain of the guard. Robb’s mouth was a hard, harsh line that recalled Cat when she was in full fury, and Jon looked as pale as the direwolf pup he’d named Ghost.
His nerves settled on mild apprehension. “What is it, Jory?”
Jory cast a hesitant look at Vayon. “It is a matter that my lord may wish to discuss in private.”
Ned frowned. Jory and Vayon had known one another for several years now. Enough for his captain and steward to know that he held both of them in high esteem. He was unsure what it meant that Jory should be wary of the man now, but it could be nothing good.
“We can finish attending to the feast preparations later, Vayon,” Ned said. “It seems my sons have found themselves a spot of mischief.”
Robb’s eyes narrowed, further mystifying Ned. His steward inclined his head, then took his leave, and the children crowded into his solar. But rather than just the three he had expected, two more entered behind Robb and Jon, furs wrapped around either of them, and Jory’s own cloak atop that.
Ned’s mouth, which had opened to demand answers of his captain and his son, snapped shut as his gaze fell upon the two strange children, his wits abandoning him for several blank seconds. One, with hair but a shade or two lighter than his own, returned his stare with a wariness that wavered as it went on, taking on the faint sheen of tears. His face was as familiar as his own, as alike to Jon’s as a brother’s would be.
It cannot be.
It was the other child’s appearance, however, that lanced through his shock, turning it icy with dread. Rhaegar Targaryen was fourteen years dead, but Ned had known the prince’s face well, for it had haunted more than a few nightmares since, he and Lyanna both. This child could be the prince’s son—a comparison driven home as Ned glanced from one to the other, finding as many similarities between them as they shared with Jon.
Brothers. They must be, of nearly identical height and build. Twins, perhaps, except that one could be his son, while the other—
How? The children looked to be of an age with his daughters, meaning Rhaegar would have been four or five years dead by the time they were born. Ned himself had seen the mangled skull of his infant son, Aegon, and had the boy lived, he would have been Jon’s age.
And yet that is what they look like. Rhaegar’s sons, four years too young. The son whose death Robert celebrated, and the son whose death he would seek, if he only knew.
As he studied the dark-haired child more closely, subtle differences presented themselves between him and Jon. His eyes were a lighter grey that took on a tinge of purple the longer Ned stared into them, recalling the terror of the first few months of Jon’s life, before his own had darkened to a deep grey. His hair was a shade lighter, its dark brown slightly warmer.
And yet none of that mattered. The Valyrian coloring that House Targaryen had been known for was not uncommon in the Free Cities, but anyone who had ever seen the mad king or his wife and son would recognize their blood in these children. The other child’s coloring would all but invite such comparisons, and there was no greater danger. They could easily be siblings, the three of them.
It cannot be Aerys, nor can it be Rhaegar. Could Rhaella have lived after all to follow her children into hiding? Her remains had been cremated in accordance with Targaryen tradition by the time Dragonstone had been taken. Died in childbed, they had been told. Any whispers of the exiled queen’s survival surely would have made it to their shores.
Yet it was the only possible explanation. Any child of Rhaella’s would look like her slain son. But why would they be here? Why now, as Robert openly travels to Winterfell?
“We found them on the outskirts of the wolfswood, half frozen,” Jory said, breaking the tense silence. “Young Bran spotted them.”
The children were both shivering, Ned realized at last. He managed a smile at his youngest. “Bran, lad, go see if Gage has any soup on—something hot for our guests.”
Disappointment flashed across his son’s face, his curiosity readily apparent, but he cast the two boys a sympathetic look and swallowed his protest. “Yes, Father. I shall bring it myself!”
Once he had gone, Ned turned back to the children. “I am Lord Stark,” he said, keeping his voice low and gentle. “And you are in Castle Winterfell. Who might you be?”
“Is it not plain, Father?” Robb snapped, tensed as though for a fight. “There is no need to make a farce of it, now that you’ve sent Bran away.”
Ned sucked in a breath, feeling a fool as comprehension struck. Jory’s obvious discomfort, Robb’s fury, Jon’s quiet shock—
They think that I…?
Ned stared into his son’s eyes, finding shock and betrayal beneath the anger. A mirthless chuckle rose in his chest and he forced it down. Why should they not, after all? He had soiled his honor once in claiming Jon as his son. The appearance of two children on the outskirts of Winterfell who looked to be his bastard son’s younger brothers offered one obvious explanation.
Denial followed his stalled laughter, smothered just as quickly in the wake of another realization. Deny their relation, and Jon’s apparent kinship to two children of Targaryen features would invite all the questions Ned had feared in the first few years of his son’s life. Why would a boy with no relation to House Targaryen look like one of their long-dead scions?
Suspicious minds would turn to his sister and the man who had kidnapped her. The timing of Jon’s appearance, the fact that Ned had been the one to find her in the Tower of Joy, it would all point to a deadly truth—a treason that Robert would never forgive.
Unless there was another explanation. One that Jory and both of his sons had clearly seized upon, one that would all but guarantee Jon’s safety.
If they were my own bastard sons, Jon’s brothers…
Then there was no possible relation between Jon and Rhaegar Targaryen. How could there be? His brothers would have been born years after the prince’s death, their mother some woman from Lys, perhaps, with the silver-blond hair and purple eyes of Valyria that were so prized in that city. No one would look for House Targaryen in them, if House Stark offered an excuse for their shared resemblance.
To protect Jon, his only option might be to stain his honor beyond recognition. To flaunt these children, as though he had nothing to hide.
“Leave us,” Ned said. “I would speak to these children alone.”
Robb’s face reddened, his son’s outrage whipped to a frenzy. “I will not—”
“That is your lord’s command,” Ned said, unable to keep the edge from his voice. “Go. I will speak to you later.”
His son’s fists clenched, the hurt swimming beneath his anger plain, but he gave a stiff nod. “Come, Snow,” he said to his brother.
Stark, Snow. Names that his sons had taken to calling one another in the past year as they neared manhood, the growing understanding of their differing circumstances wedging itself between them. The names were not spoken unkindly, but Ned caught the barest flinch on Jon’s face this time.
Jory was the last to leave, pausing by the door. “We returned through the Hunter’s Gate, my lord, but we ran across Theon on our way to the keep.”
Ned nodded tersely in understanding. His ward was loud of mouth and held no fondness for Jon. If he too had concluded that the boys were Jon’s bastard brothers, then word would spread quickly through Winterfell. It would reach Cat soon enough, if Robb had not gone to tell her himself, and Ned’s heart clenched. As keen as Robb’s pain and betrayal had been, his wife’s suffering would be far worse.
But the children in the room with him now were a more immediate concern. Ned approached them slowly, testing their reaction. Jon’s young twin had lost none of his earlier wariness, though he did not appear to be frightened of him. And the other child regarded him with a quiet curiosity that was entirely Jon’s.
They are so like him. 
“I am Lord Eddard Stark,” he said again. “What are your names?”
“I am Jon,” said the dark-haired one, and it was all Ned could do not to react. “And this is my twin brother, Raymar.”
Jon and Raymar. Vale names, both, which was no less puzzling than anything else about them. Ned doubted that Rhaella Targaryen had been hiding herself or her sons in the Vale, which had practically served as the heart of the rebellion against her family’s rule.
“We thank you for your house’s kindness, Lord Stark,” Raymar said with a bow of his head.
Neither seemed uncomfortable in the presence of a lord, let alone the Warden of the North. Their composure spoke to an upbringing a highborn child would have.
“And to which house do you belong?” Ned asked, curious if they would answer plainly.
Young Jon shifted slightly to put himself between his brother and Ned, and the twins exchanged an uneasy look that as good as answered his question.
“I would know your true names,” Ned said, keeping his voice gentle. “No harm will come to you.”
Even the way this Jon bit at the inside of his lip was so reminiscent of his own Jon that Ned felt freshly unnerved. “I am Baelon,” he said finally. “And he is Aemon.”
It took him a moment to place the names. Sons of Jaehaerys I. Perhaps Rhaella had wanted to cling to a time in her family’s history when they had been at the height of their power, though these names in particular bore an ill omen. Two heirs to the Iron Throne, both of whom had died before they could claim it—not unlike her firstborn.
Good men, though. That had been their legacy, the princes who should have ruled, rather than the king whose reign had ultimately led to the Targaryens turning on one another, dooming their dragons.
“Why have you come here?”
That was the question upon which everything hinged. Were they a message to Ned? A threat? Had Rhaella learned of her grandson’s fate? But he could not imagine what madness could have taken her to send two young children here to deliver such a message, especially when it could so easily be interpreted as a threat.
“We did not come here by choice, my lord,” Aemon said. “We were taken from our father.”
Ned had been so focused upon their Targaryen heritage that he had not even considered who their father might be. “What is your father’s name?”
The children exchanged another glance, and it was Baelon who spoke. “Daemon.”
Ned could not hide his reaction this time. With Maelys the Monstrous’s death, the Blackfyre line had been thought to be ended at last. The male line, at least. Could there have been a descendent willing to tie himself to the exiled House Targaryen? The benefit for Rhaella Targaryen was plain: the Golden Company was said to be ten-thousand strong and of impeccable discipline—the closest to an army one could hope to hire, as sellswords went.
Rhaella Targaryen gives them the legitimacy they desire, and they offer her the start of an army. And yet—could such an alliance have been formed without whispers eventually reaching Robert’s ears?
And if someone had kidnapped her two sons, the joining of House Blackfyre and Targaryen, then that spoke to yet another plot. Someone who opposed their ambitions?
Someone who also knew, or had guessed, the true circumstances of Jon’s birth?
I am as much a pawn in this game as these children are, Ned thought grimly. As Jon now was.
“What can you tell me about your captors?” he asked.
“We were bound and blinded at first,” Aemon said. “And later made to drink a concoction that ushered us to sleep.”
Dreamwine, mostly like. Or even milk of the poppy. “You remember nothing at all?”
The child shook his head, distress creeping into his voice. “We were with our father and then we were here, alone in the cold and snow.”
“And your mother?” Ned asked, because he had to be sure.
Sorrow settled over them, keenest in Aemon, whose brother answered for them. “Dead.”
Ned watched them carefully. “Rhaella?”
Aemon’s gaze snapped to his, widening in surprise before the child could compose himself. His brother squeezed his hand and gave a silent nod.
Dead. That both simplified and complicated matters, though Ned was not certain precisely how. It made their kidnapping all the more mysterious in its purpose. A power struggle between the queen’s surviving children, perhaps? If her eldest, Viserys, feared that the Golden Company would support their claim over his, due to whatever Blackfyre blood might flow in their veins, then sending them away might have been his answer.
Sending them here could yet be a threat against Jon, or simple coincidence.
A rap at the door startled all three of them, and Ned gestured at them to remain still as he answered it. It was Jory once more, bearing a tray of stew and bread. Apparently Bran had insisted on bringing it himself, but the captain had intercepted the heavy load, judging it best that he take it up instead. Ned nodded his thanks, and brought the tray back into his solar.
“Here,” Ned said, setting it down on the table and beckoning the children over. “You must be hungry.”
Baelon broke off a piece of the bread, handing it to his brother first, then taking a bite of his own. He seemed to relax then. They have been raised to know our customs, at least, Ned thought. Though it pained him that the child had feared they might have been harmed.
Stolen away from their family and abandoned in the snow-covered fields outside the wolfswood, in the heart of a kingdom loyal to the man who had killed their kin, and would gladly see their house erased, down to the last child. That they had remained this composed in his presence was a sign of either great bravery or misunderstanding of the danger they were in.
And given how wary Baelon had been since their arrival, Ned suspected they both knew precisely how much danger they were in—to the point of fabricating names for themselves.
The stew put some color in their cheeks, and the fire had warmed them enough that they were no longer shivering. Ned, who had taken a seat opposite them, fought the urge to sag back against his chair as the throbbing pressure of a headache formed at his temples.
“You seem to understand that you cannot be Baelon and Aemon here,” Ned said once they’d finished their stew and sopped up the remnants with the last of the bread. Both children nodded. “I can protect you until I have found a way to return you home, but until then, I shall require your cooperation.”
They looked to one another once more, but seemed in agreement. “What do you require of us?” Aemon asked.
“You are Raymar,” Ned said. He glanced at Baelon, unnerved yet again at how like his son he looked as he studied Ned back. “You cannot be Jon, as I already have a son named Jon.”
The children blinked in twin surprise, seeming to immediately grasp his intention. “Willam,” Baelon said. “I can be Willam, my lord.”
Another name favored in the Vale, though not uncommon elsewhere. “That is acceptable,” Ned said. Then he took a deep breath. “And you must call me Father.”
x~x~x
Okay but my favorite thing is that Ned giving two more of his bastards Vale names is so very recognizably him, even though he didn't suggest either name to them!
Which POV to write next? Decisions, decisions...
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imthursdaysyme · 1 month ago
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Messy doodle of me and my siblings
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sunfoxfic · 1 year ago
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as someone with a lot of sisters (no brothers) it's very funny and frustrating how often I'll tell a story about my sister and people will follow up with "which one?" bitch you do not know. I will follow up by saying Denise, Sally, or Crinkle Cut French Fry and it will make no difference whatsoever. You don't know their names. I barely know their names. If it was important which sister I would identify them by age and/or occupation, whatever's relevant.
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hellhoundlair · 1 year ago
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so mad abt the ethel cain shit rn
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sxnctxxry · 4 months ago
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.
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dirt-str1der · 6 months ago
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Whatever
#and its the only listed entry for his relationships ?#does he not talk or interact with anyone else in the series ?#Trigun loveblog#he loves vash#damien do nooootttt read this this is spoilersd#it makes me smile so much that the entry is written like this because they could easily have said something like ...#'theyre siblings with an intense rivalry stemming from their difference in ideology' but no its straight to the point#like yeah knives really did make that face when he saw the scars. and yeah he did scream in rage and grief when vash was slowly dying#and yeah vash was the one who gave him the will to live again and yeah knives is the reason vash is alive#like seriously whatever#i mean of course vash is the reason knives lost everything and knives is the reason vash is constantly putting his life in danger#this and the way knives gently hands vash a gun and tells him to shoot someone in stampede is so funny#hes like whats wrong ? (gentle) go on and do it (reassuring) and when vash is shaking too much and lowers the gun hes like (fond sigh of#exasperation) i have to do everything for you. hes so funny he loves his brother#and what right does knives have to be calling vash his little brother in the manga. you two were conceived in the same instant chill ...#im just very glad that loving vash is one of knives core personality traits and the other is being evil. its not trigun if your brother#isnt about to burn the whole world down just to create paradise for the two of you. and i cannot get enough of how one sided it is at the#start like the first thing knives does after they crash land is to attempt to help vash stand. the second thing he does is beat the hell out#of vash because hes annoying and whiny. and vash has tried to kill knives so many times but in the end he just cant do it#knives has been on the other side of his barrel so many times and so many times vash would get mad at him and then fail to pull the trigger#its so cutee theyre beautiful twin boys ... exactly the same height ... sorry im just happy again that tessla is in stampede
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keeps-ache · 7 months ago
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DARN, missed it again! 2nd anniversary of being a they/themer :D
#just me hi#i should cue a post for next year cuz i just Keep missing it hfhsv#cool though!! two years of queer yeah babyyy#i now have it/its but they/them was where i started hehe :>#i've considered neos but you know i think they'd be a bit much for me lol#character customization Truly#//i am NOT missing this blog's birthday. proooollyyyy hghfsh#these aren't such huge things but i like to know things have happened hfsh :3#these are two things i really only celebrate on here so i've just Gotta say it :33#//anyway i've been listening to the radio a lot (did i say that? i think i told you that some weeks ago lmao) and it's Funnn (mostlyyy) :D#yes they play the same 15 songs over and over and i'm starting to learn all the words to even the most unremarkable ones but that's part of#the Fun :DD#been listening to it because once in a while they play a song i already have in my playlist (yayy !!) or a song that i like (which then goe#in the Playlist (yayy !!)) that and it supplies a background track to whatever i'm talking about with my siblings which is funny at times#/imagine. you've slipped up. a secret of another's you were never supposed to know was mentioned by accident. so instead of#trying to excuse yourself from guilt you admit to knowing even More. the person you're speaking to is betrayed confused and overall upset.#and you're trying to get in contact with a ghost to give you pointers. it's not great. in the background Lovin On Me is playing#that's how our games have been going hfhsvhf#/i let them play in the plots of my stories sometimes and it's So Ridiculous Dude#i've had to ban specific organs from their characters because they were being wretched little beings. it Was funny though i'll not deny hfh#they've tormented shye + weirded out oath + killed and been killed many times#there were a couple times i saw genuine horror on their faces and i am living on that i'm ngl hfhsvbhs#like the horse thing! it would take a sec to explain so i won't go into it but oh i hurt myself laughing Lolll (it was dark but it was stil#funny hfbvs)#//OH i've gtg now lol --#ciao ciao see you somewhere later from now !! :D
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bitchfitch · 7 months ago
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somebody shoot me with a gun until I am dead before I write the first chapter of that pirate thing for like. Genuinely the eighth or ninth time.
#i have versions i like the vibes of#i have versions i like the pacing of#i have versions i like the writing of#i have not a single one that manages to hit even 2 out of those 3 criteria#Like. I think part of the issue is the setting is dreamy its soft and floaty and things arnt Right#but the first thing that happens is a guy loudly boasting about how much hes going to enjoy sexually assaulting his deuteragonist#hes lying. but Toi'uhla doesn't know that. The people ze is choosing to sacrifice zerself for dont know that.#the child whos experiencing the fear of death for the first time doesn't know hes bluffing either.#and the entire time theyre on a boat thats floating in empty nothing in a universe that has no stars left.#So much of making a tangible Threat like that hit is slowing for a moment and describing the ugly details of like#existing. as a physical person in a physical world. This horrible thing is happening and while it does the wind is messing up your hair#That sort of thing.#But there is no wind. there is no water. or rain. Toi'uhla's sense of smell is almost non existent. so ze cant think about the body oder#of that many people in that close of quarters.#And all while this is happening. i have to set up that these are two alien species with distinct cultures and Very different perspectives#on what is happening. Lordakai Senior is the one who lead the raid that killed Toi'uhla's sire and zer siblings.#But ze only knows the name Lordakai. bc for Zer it is completely reasonable to assume that the two Lordakai's are the same guy#Koita are long lived. Toi'uhla has never had reason to learn how to tell how old they are#Lordakai jr is absolutely riding on his dads name. but he doesn't know his dad was a privateer#So like. Theres a lot of shit happening in a weird setting#With two characters that need to Mesh while both putting up complete fronts.#and it needs to set up the stakes and themes for the rest of the damn story.#qnd its just a lot man. I love this project. i love these characters. but there's so many moving pieces bc theres had to be to make enough#Stuff to fill out the long spaces where they're just. on a pirate ship. being bored.#im probably over thinking this#blehgh
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fiendishartist2 · 8 months ago
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guys what if i want to make my own apollo justice game.
#i need to write a prequel to aa4 pls pls pls pls pls#okay get this: so phoenix isnt disbarred yet and he doesnt have trucy. hes still taking and winning cases#one day he gets a call from edgeworth and hes all like ''wright i need your assistance'' and hes like what for and edgeworth goes#''ive been given the most ridiculous case and i think youre the only man in law who can take care of it''#so phoenix bikes his ass to the detention center and boom. child behind bars#and phoenix is like ??? hey kid what are doing here. and this kid is the most surly mfer on the planet like you couldnt get-#-a word out of him if you tried. hes kinda giving phoenix the stink eye too but hes just the littlest guy on earth#and phoenix feels bad for him so he tries to get a rundown of the case (maybe edgeworth gave him an autopsy report or smth beforehand)#but get this. the kid still wont speak. he hasnt even moved a muscle. and after some prodding you find out this little dude-#-doesnt speak english (i dont love aa6 but i think apollos tragic backstory can be interesting so we're going w that but taking it seriousl#anyways so maya is like omg this kid is speaking khurainese but hers is kinda broken bc shes not from the mainland and only knows it-#-from like prayers#so you only get bits and pieces of the kids testimony. plus he still doesnt wanna talk bc ''dhurk told me not to talk to you''#so you start following the new lead but you ask too many questions and apollos like oh shit i said too much and wont talk to you anymore#but now you have two leads: khur'ain and a man named ''dhurk'' plus the fact that this is kid might be new to america since-#-he cant speak english but is smack dab in the middle of california. its all v curious and phoenix wants to get to the bottom of it#for the rest of the case i feel like it would go in the direction of ''we dont know exactly whats up w this dhurk guy or where this kid-#-came from but we do get him acquitted and phoenix is able to save him from the dark path he was heading towards'' thus steering apollo-#-in the direction of law and giving him a wayyyy better reason than aa6 gave him <3#i kind of like the interlinked nature of ace attorney's storytelling. like everything leads into smth else and everyone is impacted-#-by another person before they even become properly entangled w each other's lives#like how mia faced dahlia years before she met phoenix but dahlia was the one to connect them#or how trucy gave phoenix the diary paper but she's also the one who ropes apollo into the waa. even before they know they're siblings#or how lamoire left apollo and trucy as children and when they reunite as adults they cant recognise each other but they all find each-#-other anyways#i could go on but i think this could be cool yknow esp bc i think the most interesting thing about apollo's aa6 backstory is his life-#-post dhurk. like where did he stay? was he a foster kid? was he put into the system? how did that affect him? what kind of ppl took him in#i just wanna know how that whole thing would have effected him bc like when yiu think about it how did he even get to america?? his dad's#-considered a terrorist. idk man i think its interesting and apollo and dhurks interactions are one of the only good parts of aa6
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caruliaa · 1 year ago
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me realizing that i have been ruined for the rest of my life now i will never be able to be in any situation were the songs riptide or formation are playing without it awakening a media studies sleeper agent within me
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mrfoox · 2 years ago
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Living alone with my cats is my anti social younger selfs biggest dream. Sorry I can't sleep over... No my cats need to be fed sorry.... I need to be home before 8pm...
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dirt-str1der · 2 years ago
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Do you consider any of the non protagonist yakuza girls well writen?
I think none of them had rights
#Thanks for the ask !#like you have to actively like girls to notice them theyre inconsequential#also who is this why are you sewing discorse in my inbox#i spelled discourse wrong. my mom ordered the dog trainers to train ollie right now because he is insane and hes eating soo many treats#not because hes a good boy but because they are tossing that shit at him#they were literally almost there with yasuko#i thought her story was so fucking interesting ...#like its really not a fault of the girls they are all pretty good characters in their own right#like we have a variety of them too. we had miss tatsu who was out there turning guys inside out but she randomly had to go get kidnapped in#order to complete kiryus training arc. like how funny would it be for the whole thing to be staged and miss tatsus like Lol good job kiryu#for passing my test. oh this guy ? yeah he did get the better of me but i kicked the shit out of him then roped him into my schemes. dont#you think practical application is more effective than training ? anyway theres nothing more i can teach you but you can come train whenevr#we didnt even get an in game appearance for yuko but apparently she was a massive troll but too cute to get into any real trouble#mirei was. . . i literally said ‘are you kidding me’ when they revealed what happened to her like seriously ? is this real ? they did#that ? like literally she should have been living it up in cahoots with katsuya and being so sexy and divorced forever. she should have#faked her death because every single parentsl figure haruka had leaves her. and god haruka like honest to god i love that she just ran off#like that i thought it was so kiryu of her to be an absent father. but also my friends have all brought up very good points which is that#haruka should NOT have gone back to morning glory like she should have stayed in ono michi with her loser girlfriend whos a boyfriend with#her new extended family and only go back every now and then to see her siblings honestly i hated that .... like girl spread your wings ..#choose where you want to roost stop going back !! just get out !!!!!! its literally okay to tell the rest of your family ‘i dont wanna wipe#your asses forever i love you guys but im out of here’. and god i .. as much as i loved y0 makoto should have left her shitassed husband#girl had a whole ass baby with him ... find someone better im sorry ..!!! like whatever i know that thst was the ‘best’ option for her and#she deserves financial stability and a rich doctor husband but she also deserves crazy sex with a girl with one eye#i think what yumi did was awesome but like. actually i have no complaints about yumi. wait no i do. kazama was a shitass for marrying her#off to that politician because he couldnt stand having a woman in his house. im now thinking of that unecessarily hot doctor from y0 wtf was#her deal. and god the unnecessarily hot cho-han lady from y5.. oh wait ako had rights. she fell in love with kiryu at first sight then got#over him which is literally the best thing a girl could do for herself. PLUS she throws molotovs and is generally awesome#i cant remember any other girl. oh yeah god reina. .. reina .... god milky though .... i think she was fantastic and i want her badly. and#yayoi fucking disappeared after a certain point in time and ran off to another city with her baby daddy and sugared him to open a bar#well its not canon but im certain thats what happened because she literally went radio silence like girl where are you ....
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busylilbee · 6 months ago
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I just found something under the toaster oven that I wish I could Forget
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the-cooler-king · 6 months ago
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Oh yeah..... midnight gospel be hitting.... sitting in my bed fuckin. Crying. Get a grip girl
#Its the trudy ep which is actually the episode that made me keep watching#I love love love this episode.....#Something about how.......... idk.... its a very profound ep that I can't explain and it's a nice cry#This ep kind of shaped my outlook on life especially after finding out about my friend dying#All the regrets and things left unsaid.... I make my peace daily by being really straight up#If I love and care about ppl I tell them... I say they are appreciated and cared for man#I am always thankful for people and I *love* people as a whole#And as long as the people around me intrinsically know that they are loved and cared for and cherished.... like that's it#That's the end game truly#I will never ever be sorry for that. This was THEEEE episode.#There's a lot of nuance behind my feelings best described by revolutionary girl utena#But still. I'm deep enough in my tags bc I'm crying over my s/o but not in a bad way#Fml I am so grateful to him as just an entity. As a person in my life even if our lives only intersect for this brief period of time#He hasn't been texting me much and we didn't talk much at work and I didn't even get a goodbye (rude lol)#But I know he was having a rough day. I know he needs a bit of tlc.#He could be on a downswing because I am certainly on an upswing#So I'm kind of like trying to focus on doing my own thing rn without worrying about it#Because I can't do anything about it so I might as well continue My Thang#But as I sometimes come to terms with us never talking again (gotta be prepared at all times to be ghosted)#I also come back to terms with needing him to really understand#how many people in his life depend on love cherish and admire him#And im not just talking about me... he has a lot of siblings and a not great mom. Two kids he loves.#He has always taken care of everyone else in his life#He deserves to really know and idk. It makes me think of this moment.#Realizing how much I dont ever want to question if he knows#I don't want to question if I could've done more or tried harder etc. I did my very best and didn't lie cheat steal or whatever#I am so grateful to him for letting me have that. Even if nothing can come from it in the end#Even if we should be torn apart!!!! Take my revolution!!!#Anyways. Here's wonderwall#Banger of an episode. Worth the rewatch
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