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midnightsunnyday · 4 years

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Holiday dinner with the family (Black MC)

Summary: MC invites the brothers to meet their family for holiday dinner. As the day progresses, shenanigans ensue.

A/N: wrote this back during the holidays and is heavily influenced off my own familial experiences, yet exaggerated for fictional purposes. Either way, I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: some curse language, mentions to sexual situations.

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1:00 PM

Lucifer: alright, we're here. For the record, I think this is a horrible idea.

Belphegor: you've already stated the record 30 times before getting here.

Lucifer: and just like the 90 times before getting here, let's go over the rules again, shall we?

*everyone groans*

Lucifer: say them.

Everyone except MC: no using our powers, no mentioning we're demons, no mentioning we attend RAD, no mentioning we're the literal envoys of the seven biblical sins, no mentioning our actual ages, no mentioning our real names, no mentioning the Devildom, no stealing, no maiming, no sodomy, no hypnotism, no blasphemy, no betting souls, and no eating MCs family.

Lucifer: good.

Asmodeus: I'm so excited! I can't wait to show your family how wonderful I am.

MC: just make sure that's the only thing you show them.

Asmodeus: I promise I'll be a good demon. Well, as good as a demon can be.

Satan: again, I get why we had to change our names, but do they have to be so ridiculous?

Beelzebub: I like my fake human name. It’s cool.

Satan: well, I don’t. Mine makes me sound like an old man.

Mammon: um, guys? Levi's having a panic attack.

Leviathan: *hyperventilates into a sandwich bag*

Beelzebub: Levi, I know you're nervous, but you're breathing on my sandwich.

Leviathan: I can't do this, OK? Just let me sit in the car.

MC: Levi, you'll be fine.

Leviathan: Levi will not be fine. I can see them from the window. Why does your family have so many people? No way they'll want to meet--

MC: --what did I tell you about the self-deprecation?

Leviathan: but I--

MC: --listen, remember that anime we watched together: I'm a Demon Who Fell in Love With a Human and Now I Have to Meet Their Family but Little Do They Know I Have Horrible Social Anxiety?

Satan: these titles...are oddly specific.

Leviathan: oh yeah. In the end the whole family went to Hell for the wedding and was super accepting.

MC: the point is they were nervous too, but they worked through it together just like we all are. And do you know why?

Leviathan: why?

MC: because I love you, Levi, to hell and back.

Leviathan: *blushes* Alright, I'll do it. If it's for you, I'll fight all the forces of Heaven themselves!

MC: it's dinner Levi, not Armageddon, but I love the confidence.

Lucifer: good then. Now, let's get this over with. Diavolo help us all.

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1:15 PM

MC: which one of you gave my parents a $2000 bottle of wine?

Mammon: $2000? I thought we agreed to give them gifts under $50?

Belphegor: that's right. Who’s the show off?

Lucifer: isn't it obvious? And please, they need to know that I'm the provider in this relationship.

Mammon: and what does that make the rest of us?

Lucifer: a pain in my ass.

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1:35 PM

MC: great. Now my mom won't stop bragging about "my baby's boyfriend."

Asmodeus: which one?

MC: very funny. And I'm talking about “Mr. Tall, Dark, and Bougie” himself. Though I don't recall mentioning you were my partner, Lucifer.

Lucifer: why mention the obvious, love?

Mammon: don't make me gag.

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2:25 PM

Satan: I don’t think your uncle cares for me much.

MC: why is that?

Satan: well, for one, he keeps referring to me as “white boy.”

MC: oh, no.

Satan: I know, right? Tell me, do I really look that pale? Granted the *whispers* Devildom doesn’t have much sun, but still. Do you think a tan would be beneficial?

MC: Satan?

Satan: yes?

MC: I love you.

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3:40 PM

Lucifer: one of the smaller humans asked me if they could "hold a 20."

MC: yes, I saw. In which you gave them twenty $100 bills.

Lucifer: yes, to hold. Is that not correct?

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3:53 PM

Mammon: MC why won't you let me near the spades table? I could be making a killing right now!

MC: because lives are at stake.

Mammon: wow that hurts, MC. Do you really think I'd hurt your family?

MC: no, I think my family would hurt you.

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4:13 PM

Leviathan: MC. MC. EMERGENCY. All your cousins kept asking if I had games on my phone, and I was like, "Duh, of course I do." Now they've taken my phone and won't give it back!

MC: *rises from their chair and walks off*

*the sound of screaming children is heard in the distance*

MC: there you go.

Leviathan: thanks, M…ew, why is it so sticky?

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5:05 PM

Asmodeus: now I know I said I’d be a “good demon,” but your aunt --

MC: --is married.

Asmodeus: oooh, so she’s a two for one deal, then?

MC: go sit in the car.

Asmodeus: but--

MC: IN THE CAR.

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5:48 PM

Satan: MC, I don't appreciate your family insulting my intelligence.

MC: what are you talking about?

Satan: every time a song comes on, they keep asking, "what I know about it?" It's infuriating.

MC: we really need to have a talk about colloquialisms.

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6:07 PM

Leviathan: I think Beel just killed MC’s dad.

Lucifer: WHAT?

MC: my dad isn’t dead, Levi, just winded.

Beelzebub: we were playing football.

Lucifer: out of all the games to play and you choose football?

Beelzebub: I said no, but they really wanted me on their team and well…I was having so much fun, that I forgot my own strength and threw the ball a bit too hard. I’m so sorry, MC.

MC: *pats his head* it’s OK Beel. Though it was hard explaining why you were capable of sending a man flying several feet through the air. On the plus side, no one wants to challenge you to anymore games.

Beelzebub: that’s...probably for the best.

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7:00 PM

MC: Belphie where did you go? I haven’t seen you for several hours. *sniffs his clothes* and why do you smell like that?

Belphegor: your house was way too noisy, so me and your cousins...went for a walk.

MC: for a walk, huh?

Belphegor: *shoves a handful of Doritos into his mouth* yep.

MC: …

Belphegor: …

MC: you’re high aren’t you?

Belphegor: I will neither confirm nor deny it.

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7:35 PM

Lucifer: are…are we praying?

MC: oh yeah, sorry. We always pray over the food before we eat. Don’t worry, it won’t take long

*three minutes pass*

Mammon: is it over yet?

Lucifer: *whispers* Beel, calm yourself.

Beelzebub: *shirt wet with drool* I’m trying!

*five minutes pass*

“And father god, we humbly ask that you protect everyone at this table from Satan and all his machinations, both physical and spiritual. May no evils prosper against them.”

Lucifer: yes, Lord.

Satan: *glares *

Lucifer: what? I was simply agreeing with said affirmation.

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7:42 PM

“In Jesus name we pray, Amen.”

Everyone: Amen.

Beelzebub: finally. We can eat.

Belphegor: an eight minute long prayer? Even Jesus would tune out.

Satan: they rebuked me so much during that I think I felt my skin burn a little.

MC: Beel, save some for everyone else, please.

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7:55 PM

“I see you have a lot of men around you these days, MC.”

MC: they’re my friends.

“Funny that you have all these friends, yet not one of them is your husband.”

MC: *sips drink* I’m sure you would know a lot about having no husbands, considering you’re going through your third divorce.

Mammon: *chokes on his food *

Asmodeus: I love this family.

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8:05 PM

“So what did you all say you do again?”

Lucifer: Student affairs

Mammon: Entrepreneur

Leviathan: Digital media

Satan: English Literature Professor

Asmodeus: Image consultant

Beelzebub: Personal trainer

Belphegor: Mortician

MC: …

Belphegor: *smiles*

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8:55 PM

Belphegor: wait, we’re praying again? But we’re leaving.

Lucifer: at this point we’re so blessed we could qualify for sainthood.

Mammon: hang in there, bro.

Satan: I think I feel a few blisters forming.

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11:35 PM

Lucifer: well, that could have gone worse.

MC: see? Everything worked out.

Lucifer: other than a few mishaps, this evening turned out to be quite pleasant.

Asmodeus: right? I had so much fun with your family, MC.

Beelzebub: I think soul food is my favorite kind of food.

Satan: do you think we made a good impression?

MC: I’ve gotten nothing but notifications since we left. Everyone wants to know when I plan to bring back… *sighs* “my rich boyfriend and his brothers.”

Mammon: I resent that first part.

Lucifer: the part where I’m rich or the part where I’m their boyfriend?

Mammon: BOTH.

MC: you guys know you’re all my family, right? So just know you’re in this for the long haul. No backing out.

Lucifer: *smiles* as if we ever planned to.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegore #obey me x black mc

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barnesandco · 4 years

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AYESHA!! Can I request, "their entire body freezing for a second when their love kisses them?" For any character you feel inspired to write for!

The Pay Off

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: brief mention of therapy and allusions to Bucky’s recovery after Hydra.

A/N: This.. got wildly out of hand.... and really, really wordy. I love these prompts and I want to write all of them while my WIPs stare at me feeling betrayed.

Like sunshine honey, the woman who has been sitting two seats down from Bucky at the library for the past four months, with a smile the ambience of New York dawn aimed unguarded at the book in your lap. He’s spoken a grand total of 37 sentences to you in that time, each one laden with the weight of this new existence he is carving out for himself, softly, a breakfast knife through butter. Every interaction with you -- every stolen glimpse up from his own space magazine -- leaves his throat parched but prickling with that sensitive heat that makes him want to thirst more. Like the tingle of salt after ocean water.

Wetting his lips, he tries to refocus on the page in front of him. It details the scientific contributions of the Hubble Space Telescope, with a colorful side-box about the Nancy Grace Roman, who pioneered the notions of sending telescopes into space to unearth its secrets. The magazine is one from a neat stack to his right, a treasure of information he gathered to go through when he arrived today, but he isn’t making the amount of progress to finish reading by closing time.

Every Avenger has made a comment on getting a library card, to no avail. Sam’s information, Steve’s offer to do it in Bucky’s stead, Natasha’s suggestions of giving a fake name, and Wanda’s kind offer to come with him if he doesn’t want to do it alone, along with Tony’s centenarian-themed jokes and Shuri’s gift of a Kindle containing every book she could buy, have all been politely refused and tolerated in turn. Initially, it was because he likes it at the library. It’s the quietest place he has, and is coming to claim as another safe space. An escape. Now, however, there is a new variable he does not want to introduce to the team.

The woman who sits two seats down from him. You come her every afternoon, a book bag in one hand and a gigantic tote full of Lord-knows-what in the other, both dumped on the table before you go to find a book. He’s close enough to smell watermelons and strawberries, pink, sweet-summer things, reminders of a blueberry sky and sugary lemonade, memories he doesn’t remember having but can taste in the heavy air between them. It had taken him two weeks to discover that the scents were coming from the markers that he saw peeking out from the tote, stationary behaving the same way certain books do, enabling him to live a life he has never had.

Your life is a mystery to him, but he guesses at it, reading you. A rainbow of stray marker lines litters your hands almost perpetually, coming alive when they move rapidly as you check books, sometimes chuckling softly at a particular sentence. Once, he caught a Cheese Whiz stain on your cable-knit cuff, and at another occasion, saw you. Bucky is often overcome by the feeling of sonder at the realization that the clues he is gluing together make for a complex life, a marvel of an individual. There is guilt too, for his curiosity. But your eyes, even looking down, are captivating, and he is too far gone to stop.

The idea of asking you out, of engaging in conversation beyond the moments of stranger familiarity, scares him still. Last time you spoke was when you laughed aloud at the set of examples one particular student had given for an assignment on sensory details. Zachary, age 11, had written that cow poop was a smell he did not like, sending his library companion into brilliant, bubbling laughs that you cut off too soon when you remembered where you were. At that point, you had looked around to see if anyone noticed, and spotting him, offered an apology he had rejected, on the condition that you share the joke. And you did.

But initiating the moment takes something more than what he has right now. His hands, mismatched and cold from the table, empty and longing, shut the magazine.

-----

The courage arrives on a Thursday. An ordinary day, by all accounts, only Bucky is on his fourth week of actual therapy, and got to the library through the subway, instead of Steve’s motorbike. Small victories fill his chest.

Only, you aren’t there when he gets in, and he panics. Fear and disappointment wrestle for a spot in his belly, claiming a tie in knots and weights, as he paces through the aisles of shelves in what he hopes is an unsuspicious speed. Giving up hope, he’s returning to his seat, head bowed, dismayed, when something collides against his side.

It’s you. A hurricane of movement with a slushie in one hand, your eyes also on the floor, and you crash against him with a shriek too late to save either of you. The slushie, cold and blue, spills out and lands on both of you, as you tumble, hands on Bucky’s elbows while his are on yours as he pulls you down, and you land in a heap of ice-water and sticky saccharine snow, a warm weight on top of him.

The library goes silent, for a breath, and then, when the shock lifts, two librarians come rushing from around some hidden corners, by which time you and Bucky have composed yourselves enough to stand and start to apologize profusely in cut-off sentences and shaky stutters. The slush is sinking through his clothes but there is a flush in his cheeks, and somehow, looking at your beautiful face, he has never been warmer.

When the slushie has been cleaned up with rags -- his hand is starting to shiver -- he stands with more sorry on his tongue, but you say, with a grin, “I guess you really fell for me, huh?”

The quip is surprising, but he laughs. Looks between your now-blue blouse and his inky t-shirt, and makes the leap. “Maybe I can get you another drink to make up for it.” And the pleased shock on your mouth, lips parted slightly and breath still recovering, is worth every step and fall it took to get to that one line.

-----

It goes well. He won’t call it a date, in spite of everyone else’s juvenile cooing and teasing when he leaves the Compound on a Saturday evening in his car. It’s a 70s Mustang, body the color of his old Commandos coat, and the interior a shiny black lined with golden stitching and accents. Royal and his very own. Turning towards the neighborhood you live in, he recalls the months it took to restore the damn thing, the last weeks of which were spent practically living in the garage, breathing on the anticipation of this monstrous achievement.

Queens is neon lights and family-owned delis, the scent of tacos mingling with that of curries, and there’s a different language in each window front. You said you lived in an apartment a couple of stories above a Vietnamese bar.

You’re exiting just as he gets out of the car, and it takes a moment to catch his breath. In jeans and a silk shirt, you are the sun, and he cannot wait to get to revel in your warmth for at least one evening.

-----

It goes well. With the exception of nerves he can’t rid himself of but rather ignores, everything is perfect. You had enjoyed his handmade picnic in Central Park, and his disgruntled commentary on how things used to be when you got stuck in traffic on the way back. His imitations of Steve and Tony had you in stitches, after which you had fed him Doritos from a packet he did not know was in the glove-box.

Smooth sailing, soft as cream and just as gentle, the night, until you get back. It is late, and the lights are starting to flicker out of shop windows, and you go a little bit quiet, discontinuing the steady stream of chatter you have been maintaining with him.

Something is in the air. Something sparking with promise. It hushes your voices and tightens his throat and has his hand trembling when he opens his door and then yours to let you own. You stand in the pale glow of the corner streetlamp, and his hands are in his pockets like he’s sixteen again, wanting to kiss a girl but unsure how to go about it.

Fortunately for him, you’re not a girl. You’re a woman. Made from electric fire and whatever strength that holds the cotton clouds in the sky, luminous and wondrous.

“I know that was a bit more than a drink, so thank you for agreeing to this,” he says, meeting your eyes.

Your finger is tracing the face of your watch absently as you smile at him. “I had a great time.”

“Really?” Bucky blurts out, and then hurries to suspend the disbelief.

The answer you give him has his heart doing somersaults. “Yeah. I’d actually love to do this again if you feel the same.”

“Of course. Yes, obviously.” He puts a brake on his train of speech, explains as he walks a little closer to you, close enough to count your eyelashes. “I’m sorry, I haven’t been on a date in 80 years, and I’m a little rusty, but--”

Like the event that started it all, your first kiss is a crash. You lean up slowly and he has time to stop you but he doesn’t. He lets you kiss him and freezes, from head to toe, upon the feeling of your soft lips. Stopping within seconds, you lean back, sheepish, ready to back away and run, he’s certain. His head clears, he thinks a little straighter.

“Sorry, will you let me try that again?” He asks, clearing his throat, and you lift your hand to hold his.

The warmth of your hold envelopes the back of his human hand, and twists your grip so your fingers are intertwined, so much more surface area to gain heat and the motivation to seek further touch from. “If you stop saying sorry, sure.”

He closes his eyes before you do, and this time, the meeting of your lips is soft. A kiss, not a crash, an elegant collision of mouths and shared wants. In a few breaths of movement, as your other hand rises to his hair and his holds your waist, you come closer, and Bucky grows breathless. The kiss lasts for what feels like minutes too long and hours too short at the same exact time, as you break away with a gasp for air that has pride blooming under his sternum.

Eyes shining, he hopes he’ll get to do that again. As you kiss his cheek and turn to your door, he looks forward to sitting two seats closer to you on Monday.

#ayesha writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #ayesha answers

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ramenspice · 5 years

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Harribel Redesign

Ok so @zanguntsu made a post that inspired/prompted me to redesign Harribel (which I’ve been meaning to do anyways since she’s Queen of Hueco Mundo and needs a new look in my fic) and I was going to reblog it and add my stuff on but then things got too long and I didn’t want to hijack the post. I’d suggest reading that to understand this.

But it was talking about how the women of Bleach should be way more muscular and ripped and how Bad the outfits are, Harribel specifically for those dumb titty plates. All that is super true, especially for Harribel because there were way more reasons to make her ripped than not. Like a. Harribel’s design and whole motif is based off sharks who are 1,500 to 2,400 pounds of pure muscle so it would make sense to give her a compact, athletic (ripped) build like a shark, b. she also has a water/ocean theme going on so a swimmer’s build would be accurate too (strong back and shoulders, thick dorito shape upper body, muscular hips), and c. her zanpakuto in particular gets massive and requires some serious core strength and balance. But what makes me really mad about her design, Kubo could have realistically kept so much of the original design if he had just changed it a little and then we could have had BONE ARMOR.

How cool would it be if Harribel’s mask encompassed a piece of s k e l e t o n armor? I always thought the titty plates were apart of her mask as they extended down from the face and that’s why those hard shapes against skin wouldn’t hurt if it was done right, but that’s the thing, even if you don’t think they’re apart of her mask if the armor was done right via realistic breastplates there’d be so little movement that chafing/discomfort wouldn’t be an issue. The way it is now, she’d literally have no nipples. Chafed out of existence. Her boobs probably would’ve fallen off too from all the bouncing.

You can see how free these ladies are as the armor only serves to hold them in the natural, bra-less position while doing nothing to protect her sternum (even worse when that plating collapses and pushes into the sternum stabbing her), all because the shape points down and out from the chest. But all you have to do is change the shape to compress and lift to solve the bounce problem, and guess what, we have stuff to do that with in real life - sports bras and binders!

Make those changes and already it’s much better. Tighter than your average sports bra but slightly looser than a binder, this keeps those pesky hobondonkeros out of the way and keeps the concept of chest armor/extended mask while still emphasizing the feminine figure. Well why can’t you just do that and still define the breasts like in the original design you ask? Because that’s not what real armor does and exposes the sternum (again) which would kill you.

Actual breastplates are designed specifically to protect the sternum, bulging out around the abdomen at one point to redirect blows and distance the area of impact from the body. Having a cavity in the center right over the sternum redirects blows inward which is understandably bad, and though there are good arguments for and against molded shapes in the breastplate around the actual breasts it’s better to go with the closer variation of what we know existed and worked. You can accommodate for breasts by simply moving that bulge up towards the chest more.

That’s what this center piece is for, to make a point for which to redirect blows off of and protect the sternum. AND, it still fits with the whole piece because b o n e s. It’s looking better, but something’s missing... I could have sworn there was something I talked about at the beginning that Harribel should have...

OH WAIT IT’S TIER PUNCH-YOU-INTO-THE-SUN HARRIBEL AND HER RIPPLING M U S C L E S. This is the minimum level of ripped she should be. I combined all the build types suggested by her type of activity and themes to make a thicker swimmer/fighter build, but this still isn’t quite right... There’s still one con on the list to take care of...

AnD iT IS bOnES

This plus her jacket will look fuckin’ SICK and if you take the bone stuff to not be an extension of her mask (I hc that it is as a sign that she’s stronger than the average Joe and was a Vasto Lorde), she can still more easily fit layers under the armor to improve comfort. This is a design that carries death and prestige, perfect for the Queen of Hueco Mundo.

Now, Grimmjow gets to run around tits-out no armor and fight pretty well pre-zanpakuto release, so the same is fairly acceptable with Harribel and exposing skin pre-release. The only sexy cutouts I accept are right over her sword-shattering abs.

This was fun, I’d like to do more redesigns/changes for the women of Bleach the more I get back into my fic.

#Bleach #text #image #Harribel #Redesign #process post #This was really long #but I'm a long-winded kind of fella #I rarely get to go feral #but when I do someone gets jacked and there are bones

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sxpiosexualx · 7 years

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What bothers me a lot about dorito fans claiming her “kween” and “the rightful ruler” is that she never do an actual job as a queen? I never saw her holding a paper and a quill, all she does is ride drogon and yell “dracarys”. Tell me again how is the “queen”. At least Cersei did her job!

Exactly, Cersei may not be the best candidate but she does know a thing or two about ruling, although she’s definitely straying from that after her whole wildfire act. Still, it irks me to see Dany stans say she deserves the Iron Throne. You could argue that it wouldn’t matter considering the past rulers we’ve seen managed to keep the realm considerably stable with the help of their counsel but wouldn’t that further reinforce the notion that Dany does not know a thing about ruling by herself? Even Joffrey faced backlash from the people in S2E06, the only difference is he didn’t have the dragons to intimidate people to think twice. What makes her worthy of the throne then? Her gentle heart? Tommen had a gentle heart, he still managed to be manipulated and lost the one thing that mattered to him, driving him to suicide in the process.

Speaking of Tommen, let’s examine the exchange he had with Tywin:

Tommen: “Wisdom makes a good king.”

Tywin: “Yes, but what is Wisdom? […] A wise king knows what he knows and what he doesn’t. You’re young. A wise young king listens to his counselors and heeds their advice until he comes of age. And the wisest kings continue to listen to them long afterwards.”

Preceding the exchange in S4E07 above, Tommen explores ideas of holiness, justness, and strength before finally concluding that “Wisdom makes a good king.” So let’s dissect this further:

Could Daenerys be considered as holy? This could be shot down with one quote; “Do you know what kept me standing, through all those years in exile? Faith. Not in any God, not in myths and legends. In myself. In Daenerys Targaryen.” We never see her attempt at praying, and in this speech she gives Jon in S7E03, she mentions that she places faith in herself above the Gods. I’m not sure about you, but that line in particular screams hubris(defined as extreme pride and arrogance shown by a character that ultimately brings about his downfall).

Is Daenerys just? I believe we’ve been expected to see her that way, yes. She did in fact abolish slavery, no? However interestingly enough, if you examine her methods, she rules as an absolute monarch. As a person in such position of power, what you say is law. And we see Daenerys practice this time and time again, burning and crucifying potentially innocent men in Mereen for example. So, I assume Daenerys truly believes what she’s doing is just, but we’re also given the exchange between her and Ser Barristan Selmy in S5E02 to ponder upon, “the mad king gave his enemies the justice he thought they deserved, and each time it made him feel powerful and right, until the very end.” Ironically enough, Daenerys insists she’s not her father preceding that exchange, and Ser Barristan goes on to mention that he “murdered sons in front of their fathers,” something we see her do in Eastwatch(S7E05).

Does Daenerys wield strength? Considering she has dragons at her command, yes(arguably). But in what world does having dragons make you the most deserving candidate to sit on the Iron Throne? The Westeros that saw a Targaryen dynasty that was only able to hold their rule because of the fear their dragons commanded? Would that make a satisfying conclusion to the story? A restoration of a dynasty that faced rebellions time and time again? Who dares challenge the authority of the mother of dragons? Observe what Tywin says about Robert Baratheon and his strength in S4E07, “a man who thinks that winning and ruling are the same thing.” This is the main problem with Daenerys, she conquers easily with the help of her army and her dragons, but she has no talent for issuing any reform. And when you conquer a place through war, you shift the power dynamics creating chaos. At least Littlefinger knew that reform must come after chaos, and he plans ahead unlike Daenerys who refuses to even give thought to an heir.

Alright, I hear you, none of that matters as much as long as she’s wise - as Tywin had pointed out, “A wise young king listens to his counselors and heeds their advice until he comes of age. And the wisest kings continue to listen to them long afterwards.” But does she? We see her attempt to in Mereen, but she still resorts to the harsh measures she deems as just, despite it being what her counsel advices her against. We see her do this again with Tyrion in season 7, even questioning his loyalty(and Varys’) as soon as his plans fail. Not only is she not the wisest, she also is impressionable - she listens to Jon over her actual counsel in which path to take, and she favour’s Olenna Tyrell’s advice in being a dragon over what Tyrion tells her, and again, she refuses to reason with Tyrion and decides to burn the Tarlys alive. In other words, she places herself above the Gods, does what she thinks is just, and has the power to silence those who question her authority with her dragons, leaving very little room for her counsel to reason with her. This is why the exchange between Tyrion and Varys in season 7 was so important: these two are already starting to see her for who she really is, instead of the propped up version that was sold to them by her blind supporters.

But who else could be a contender, seeing as no one else(still living)’s arc revolves around their quest for the Iron Throne? Well, the Iron Throne is an ugly thing and I for one hope it no longer exists at the end of the series but since we’re on this topic, who did we just discover is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne? Jon.

The show has made a point to withhold that from us up to this point, just as J*nerys was starting to sail. Why? Because he now contends everything she’s worked for, everything she believes she’s entitled to. This is why I believe Daenerys’ arc serves as a foil to Jon’s instead of cinematic parallels meant to establish an otherwise poorly executed romance.

We see both these characters rise to power but there are stark differences in place. Daenerys feels entitled and rises up due to her name(and her dragons which also link in with her lineage), meanwhile Jon finds himself in positions of power because the people elect him, he doesn’t try to claim his right, he has no right. We’re meant to notice how fundamentally different these two are.

Let’s examine Varys’ speech from season 5:

“The Seven Kingdoms need someone stronger than Tommen but gentler than Stannis. A monarch who could intimidate the High Lords and inspire the people. A ruler loved by millions, with a powerful army, and the right family name.”

Jon is certainly stronger than Tommen, evident in him being referred to as “the greatest swordsman who ever walked,” by Ramsay in S6E09. He is definitely gentler than Stannis, showing Alys Kastark and Ned Umber mercy in S7E01. He’s gotten enough support from the Northern Lords and have inspired them enough to name him King in the North, surely an army would follow too. But what does he lack then? The right family name. And how can he get that? By also achieving what he’s always wanted: to be a Stark. Cue Sansa.

We are reminded that the North is wary of outsiders, especially Targaryens, “A Targaryen cannot be trusted.” - Lord Royce, (S7E02). They are too traumatised by Targaryen rule at this point that the only logical decision to maintain their support and reinforce Jon’s Northern side is if he takes the Stark name via a political marriage with Sansa. Say what you want about eggon tamale, he was raised by Ned Stark, Stark blood flows in him, and he’s lived an observed how to rule in Winterfell via being around Robb all these years. The show may have downplayed his ability to practice politics but he speaks like a true Northerner and it’s made apparent in the books during his exchange with Stannis of just how much he knows of the North and its people.

But even if you’d like to view this purely based on the show, Sansa is the perfect match for him. She has learnt from the best political players - Cersei, Margaery, and Littlefinger - while Jon is better known as the “military man.” You can see me explore why Sansa would make a better Queen than Daenerys here: https://sxpiosexualx.tumblr.com/post/165837328667/who-would-make-a-better-queen

Say what you want about Jonsa, it makes the most sense. Jon is a good bet as king, but he would not be as nearly as successful without Sansa by his side. This is why the show spent so much time developing their dynamic(even if it wasn’t necessarily romantic though the tropes are heavily suggested and weaved into those scenes), to show us how effective their rule would be if they ruled together. It translates on screen even through the deliberate set design of the hall: Jon and Sansa sit on an equal level with their small table or counsel of Lords, allowing for there to be easy discussion. Unlike the throne we see Daenerys sit on at Dragonstone - a larger than life throne propped up and meant to intimidate those who enter the hall.

Finally, I’ll leave you with a criticism GRRM made on the Lord of the Rings:

“Ruling is hard. This was maybe my answer to Tolkien, whom, as much as I admire him, I do quibble with. Lord of the Rings had a very medieval philosophy: that if the king was a good man, the land would prosper. We look at real history and it’s not that simple. Tolkien can say that Aragorn became king and reigned for a hundred years, and he was wise and good. But Tolkien doesn’t ask the question: What was Aragorn’s tax policy? Did he maintain a standing army? What did he do in times of flood and famine? And what about all these orcs? By the end of the war, Sauron is gone but all of the orcs aren’t gone – they’re in the mountains. Did Aragorn pursue a policy of systematic genocide and kill them? Even the little baby orcs, in their little orc cradles?” – (GRRM on Tolkein)

So again, I believe the best bet on who should rule at the end of the series, be it the entire 7 Kingdoms or just the North, would be JonSa. After all, the story did begin with the Starks, and I’d much rather see a restoration of a house who’s downfall was brought upon being honourable, than the restoration of a dynasty who’s demise was largely brought upon their own doing.

Thank you for the ask anon! x

#anti-daenerys #anti-targaryen #anti d&d #jonsa #jon x sansa #jonsa meta #anti-jonerys

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