#game of thrones the climb

[ghostinwinterfell]

“If the dish smelled especially choice, he would send it to one of the lords on the dais, a gesture of friendship and favor that Maester Luwin told him he must make . . . He sent sweets to Hodor and Old Nan as well, for no reason but he loved them.” (ACOK, Bran III)

bran is literally the sweetest thing ever. like he doesn’t even have to try, he’s just so naturally full of love.

[long-claw]

hotd s2e7 spoilers:

i was not expecting jace to let out his internalised bastardphobia this episode lmaoo.

on a more serious note i hope that scene reminded everyone that the nobles, and especially the targaryens, are classist and elitist and are not the heroes of westeros.

this is further supported later in the episode when they let a whole crowd of desperate poor people burn when they knew only one of the (if any of them) would be chosen by the dragon, instead of letting them go one by one?

(which was also just incredible stupid considering that was all the people they had and they were ready to let them all die with vermithor when one of them could be (was) silverwing's rider.)

[bluebellhairpin]

deadass i must be off my fucking rocker rn bc sandor is the funniest bitch in the whole of westeros. "what the fuck's a 'lommy'?" DO YOU WANT YOUR DICK SUCKED??? JESTER??? JINGLING INTO MY BRAIN WITH YOUR COMEDICALLY TIMED INSULTS???

[liviasdrusillas]

"Chaos is a ladder. Many who try to climb it fail and never get to try again. The fall breaks them and some are given a chance to climb but they refuse. They cling to the realm or the gods or love. Illusions. Only the ladder is real. The climb is all there is."

GAME OF THRONES - the climb (3.06)

[ligawolfcosplayandarts]

ASOIAF OC x Canon shitposting is real.

I wish I create only one oc sister I ship with Sandor to avoid other Clegane bro, but hey, Aerin had to happen. Glad the third triplet of her family is GAY asf and I'm still searching her cute ASOIAF Canon gf to ship her with. 👀

[bunnis-monsters]

YANDERE FLUFF

A/N: another kofi comm

In the cold, snowy mountains where no regular mortal could reach, you were currently curled up by the fireplace with your nose buried in a good book.

Normally, being so deep in these mountains would mean you were either lost or close to death. For you, though?

“My love!”

Your eye twitched as the door to your room swung open, arms wrapping around your soft frame before you could react.

“I missed you so much, I’m back so don’t worry! You won’t be lonely anymore!”

Kisses were left along your neck, a pair of fangs brushing against your sensitive skin.

“Not now, I’m still recovering after your last feeding.”

The man huffed, but retracted his fangs and nuzzled against your neck instead.

The only reason you were able to survive in such a hazardous and brutal environment was because the person that had brought you there was a creature of the night.

“I am a vampire, you know. It’s not like I want to hurt you, my darling, but I need sustenance like any other living being.”

Technically, he wasn’t alive. He moved, walked, and could talk, but his heart no longer beats and his name was on a gravestone in the courtyard.

Adrian had never been lucky. Although born into royalty, he was the son of the king’s mistress and had been persecuted by his siblings who all wanted the throne. To them, he was no sibling. All Adrian could ever be was a rival.

To thin out the pool of potential rivals, he was poisoned and tossed into the slums outside of the kingdom. Adrian lay there dying, wanting only to seek revenge against those who had him killed.

A vampire was passing by, and turned him.

Adrian slaughtered his family, being satisfied with his revenge and taking his seat on the throne…

But after years and years of ruling his kingdom all on his own… things became dull. Any lovers or friends he made slipped between his fingers as time went on, and he found himself all alone in the abandoned kingdom.

For centuries, he wandered there alone… until you moved into a small home nearby.

It was a bit embarrassing, Adrian fell for you quickly. You resembled the beauty standard from his time. A thick, plump frame, soft features, and the prettiest smile he had ever seen.

Taking you away to stay with him in his castle was easy. Preparing it to be safe for human life once again was the hard part.

Now, you spent a lot of time lounging around and reading books from his vast collection of novels from the library down the hall. He often left for days on end, returning with bags full of food and gifts for you to enjoy.

“Love, I’ve brought you those candies you’re so fond of.”

You perked up at his words, marking the page you had been reading with a bookmark before standing up. “Really?”

Adrian smirked, settling down on the couch and patting his lap. “You know the drill.”

Unfortunately, you did.

With a sigh, you pulled your cardigan tight around you and climbed into his lap, perching yourself on his leg as he let out a satisfied purr. “That’s my good girl… you want your treat, don’t you?”

He caressed your cheek, melting at the way it squished under his fingers. You were so damn soft, he was whipped for you!

“Oh, my precious one…” he cooed, feeding you a piece of candy before nuzzling his face against your head. “You’re just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen… my angel…”

He proceeded to cover your cheeks and neck in kisses, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you in close.

His body was cold to the touch, and there had never been an ounce of comfort or warmth when you curled up in his arms. Well… maybe not warmth, but if you didn’t feel at least a smidge of comfort, then why did you lean into him?

“Reading all day again, hmm? You must be bored, I’m sorry. I’ve brought home some new games and a few movies for you to watch…”

A kiss was pressed into your temple. “How I adore you… if only I could give you the world, my love. You deserve it and so much more…”

Despite the never ending hunger and desperate need to sink his fangs into your neck, Adrian was the most gentle and careful man in existence.

Every time his hand made contact with your flesh, he treated you like glass that could shatter with the slightest bit of pressure.

Perhaps he did love you, in his own way.

So as he doted on you and cooed softly, you leaned forward and pecked his cheek.

“Next time you go out, you should bring home some more blankets.”

His cheeks flushed at the kiss, and his grip tightened around you. With a lovesick look, he nodded.

“Anything for you, my love.”

Kofi and Patreon members got to see this and many other fics early! Consider supporting me there if you’d like early and exclusive content ^^

——————

YANDERE TAGLIST: @katerinaval @avalordream @atransmuter @bazpire @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @hammerhead96 @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @sandramalikstyles-blog @anonymouskiwi @pedropascalbabygirl @flamefoxx @an-ever-angry-bi @bath1lda @ilyanadelarosa @iswearimnotadrugdealer @whysageee @yumikomoon @rainejiang @lostsomewhereinthegarden

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Fantasy Villain

Imagine you’ve been transported to a DnD-Fantasy-like world. Quests, adventurers, and mystical beasts are everything you could dream of. You’ve already established your little troupe; becoming an important cornerstone of the group. Whatever your class, you’re excelling at they really rely on which is why things go badly when you meet him—-the recurring villain of this world.

“Oh my–oh my Zoth.”

“What? Do I horrify the little hero!?”

“No, you’re–”

“Worse than you imagined?”

“No, you’re–”

“(Y/n) stop freezing up!”

“You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever met!”

The group is horrified as they plan a tactical retreat, finding it easier to thwart the Fantasy Villain’s attacks which are suddenly less frequent.  The group just assumes you’ve been enchanted because since you’ve locked eyes with him you’ve been unable to stand on your feet. Wide-eyed and breathing heavy you just can’t stop the heat climbing over your face and ears as you replay the moment you met over and over. 

“You realize he’s a part of the ugliest most horrible race known to all of Azarothan.”

“If that’s ugly then I’m dead!”

“M-maybe he did enchant them?”

Meanwhile, the Villain’s returned to home base, shedding his armor and dismissing his entourage. Sat on his throne he replays the words you’ve said to him…over and over….and over again. His ears are turning a deep blue and he can’t help the involuntary reaction of the volcano attached to his castle bubbling with excitement.

“They-they think I’m beautiful?!”

He’s reeling with an overflow of energy and unknown vigor when he recalls your awestruck face as you fell to your knees clutching your enchanted tool. He can’t stop the thought of you in that same position but in a different setting. Cursing his lacking imagination he concocts his usual magic to spy on the troupe with his crystal ball but this time he’s focused solely on you. 

“Surely they’ll brag about the enchantment they left on me…..and maybe talk about their own infatuation again.”

It strokes a different kind of pride when he hears you deny being cursed. The feelings are mutual. He’s over the moon all four of them. You have to understand the Fantasy Villain has never been told something so flattering. 

“From another world….figures. This world could never make such…a perfect soul.”

Since their upbringing, they’ve been met with nothing but scorn and hatred. Vowing to rule and change the world that did that to him. If others did express interest it was because he had power or was literally about to kill them. Your reaction, your unadulterated feelings for him, the tug at his soul is the only sign he needs before his objective changes. 

“I wanted to rule the world so I could change the world for me. But now I’m going to change the world so I can rule with them.”

He means it. The troops are given new orders, the deadly nightmarish beasts are given new tasks, and he’s already concocting a million different plans to attain you. He watches the crystal ball relentlessly trying to hear and see as much as he can to learn more about you. He realizes very quickly that he really hates those adventurers of yours.

“C’mon (Y/n)! Just because you’re attracted to the enemy doesn’t mean he isn’t trying to destroy the world!”

“Yeah (Y/n), you’ve got to get your head in the game. We need you!”

“I–your right…sorry guys…I just don’t think I’ve ever seen someone who fits my preferences so perfectly.”

“You don’t even know him!”

“But one look in his galaxy-like eyes and it felt like I did.”

He really hates them. Listening to them talk you out of your feelings for him. Before you arrived they were minor pests. Simply a small roadblock that he would eventually crush to shatter the hopes of the people when they needed them most. Now they were just obstacles in the way of his goal–you.

“Sire those adventurers you told us to keep an eye on are on the move. Should I give the order to attack?”

“No…summon the siren I’d like to take a different approach.”

He gets incredibly crafty, despite only meeting you once he can tell you aren’t heartless like he. He’s certain should you find him to be responsible for the death of anyone you’ve met you’d reject his love. So he’ll make it his plan to slowly break your little troupe, such spunky and erratic individuals may be just the only tool he needs.

“My orders, My Ruler?”

“Join their group. Do what you like with whoever you wish. 

“?”

“Bring discord how you see fit.”

“Yes, My Ruler!”

His plan is perfect and the group isn’t nearly suspicious enough to reject his double agent. Who’s presence triggers the cracks that this group had always had. When the group splits apart needing to cool off you’re left alone, a perfect chance for a moment with you. 

“Hello, little hero.”

“Whoa, what are you doing here? My troupe’s not too far! A-a-a-nd I–I’m willing to fight this time!”

“That’s a shame because I came to speak to you.”

“Really! Ahem, I mean about what?”

“About those words, you said to me….I wonder did you know what they’ve ignited.”

Taking advantage of your easily lowered guard, he speaks the truth. Coming in close enough to feel the heat escaping from your armor, he’ll share the tale of his past. Which as he predicted makes you so sympathetic and just as willing to sing his praises as the moment you met. 

“But you’re not ugly or horrid like they all say.”

“No?”

“I think you’re beyond handsome. One of the most ethereal beings I’ve ever met.”

“Do you truly think so?”

“I know so… I’m just sorry no one else has told you that.”

“I’m happy it was you.”

When you let him dive in for a kiss, naturally you accept it. Returning his vigor in kind if not with sympathy or just your attraction, you miss how he places a magical mark on your neck. Or how he casually enchants your armor to protect you better. Or how he influences the flora and fauna of the forest to curve in the direction you came from essentially blocking the path back to your camp. When he reluctantly releases you he further promises he’s never letting you leave his grasp. Promising to one day have you on the throne beside him.

“I must return and so must you. Your friends will worry.”

“Oh…you’re right.”

“Don’t sound so sad, we’ll meet again.”

“Not just in my dreams.”

“Not just in your dreams.”

He leaves not only giddy with love but with a new plan in mind. He prepared to be faced with a struggle, to have to fight for your affection as the enemy you’d be fighting. But he wasn’t prepared for your heart to be swayed so easily. Licking your remnants on his lips, he knows that you can be deceived, and conveniently so can the rest of the world.

Fantasy Villain devises that if the history of his race’s banishment and exile were portrayed in a certain light. You could defect to his side without guilt and if some of the more stubborn adventurers were to also agree that’d make things so much easier. Pretending to be persuaded to sign some peace treaty after being gifted enough land to rule over with you beside him didn’t sound too bad.

Even if that didn’t work the Fantasy Villain has decided you will rule beside him whether he has to trick, drug, or force you to be his. Though he adores the honest love in your eyes when he looks at you and he’s going to do whatever he needs to have it. 

[mikkeneko]

While writing that Dragon Age 2 post the other day, I made a narrative connection I had never made before.

I was writing about the Templar route, and about how the game makes no bones about how the Templar route is the evil route, it's clearly narratively marked as such. Because the structure of the game sets itself up from the start to make Hawke have some sympathy for the mages: they are the child of a mage and the sibling of a mage. This is an issue that Hawke cannot exempt themselves from having opinions on.

But that said, yes, you can choose the Templar route. You can decide that the tragedy of your family being ripped apart by the mage plight has hardened Hawke's heart against them. You can join forces with the Order that has hunted your family members their whole lives. You can choose to tighten the iron fist, instead of choosing to break it. You can become the ruler of Kirkwall. You can kill your sister.

And then I realized: That's Meredith's story.

Meredith, whose sister was a mage, the sister who died from it and ripped her family apart in the process. Meredith, who hardened her heart against people like her sister and dedicated the rest of her life to punishing others like her. Meredith, who joined causes with the Templar order who made that happen. Meredith, who took over the city.

You can choose to become Meredith. The game lets you do that. But you have to know -- as you climb over her corpse to ascend her bloodied throne -- that it's not a 'good' choice.

[stormborns]

GAME OF THRONES 3.06, The Climb

[nereidprinc3ss]

toaster waffles

in which spencer is woken up by fem!reader and their young daughter after being away on a case

fluff warnings/tags: none really, a bit of suggestiveness between spencer and reader but nothing explicit, their daughter is a genius duh, i love dad!spence so fucking much holy shit a/n: i wrote this in like thirty minutes so good luck! just needed to write dad spencer it just needed to happen idk

“No—baby, we have to let daddy sleep in,” you chide your daughter, jogging to catch her as she races down the hallway on clumsy little legs. 

“No! I wanna see daddy!” She yells—and if Spencer wasn’t awake yet, he will be now. You give in, opening the bedroom door for Ada with a fond (exasperated) sigh. 

“Daddy! Daddy wake up!” 

He blinks sleepily several times, sitting up and grinning at his daughter as she attempts to climb up onto the bed. 

“Hi, princess,” he laughs, grunting dramatically as he pulls her up onto his lap. “Oh my gosh, did you get all grown up while I was gone?”

He catches your eye as you stop at the foot of the bed, arms folded and mouthing an amused ‘I’m sorry.’ Spencer smiles and almost imperceptibly shakes his head, eyes sparkling as Ada attempts to use him as playground equipment. No apology necessary. 

“I made you breakfast!” she remembers, grabbing onto his shoulders and springing up and down on the bed. His eyes go wide. 

“You did? Where is it?”

“Oh no!” she claps her hands to her cheeks and opens her mouth wide, Home Alone style. Spencer laughs. “I forgot it!”

Then she’s wriggling off the bed and running as fast as her little feet will carry her, presumably to the kitchen. 

“You like cold toaster waffles, right?” you tease, approaching the bed and filling the now empty seat that is Spencer’s lap. His hands find your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“I would go so far as to say I love them. Hi, baby.”

“Hi,” you murmur, resting your head on his shoulder. “I missed you. I forgot how hard it is when you’re gone.”

He hums, running his hand over your hair. 

“I know. Me too.” Spencer now only consults on cases, and very rarely is he actually obliged to travel with the BAU. It was never easy before, but now that you have a child, it takes more out of everyone. “Hey. Look at me.”

You do, lifting your head and meeting his soft gaze. He leans forward and captures your lips in a gentle kiss, brushing his thumb over your cheek before pulling away. “I love you. Thank you for taking care of the progeny while I was away. I know it’s not easy on your own.”

“Eh. She’s alright. She reads to me at bedtime.”

Spencer grins, eyes darting back to your lips. Several quick kisses are pressed there in succession, and it’s not exactly how he wanted to say good morning to you but that will have to wait until later. 

“Ewww!” 

Ada is at the door again, waffle in hand, making a half-disgust half-delight face before prancing back to the bed and receiving another airlift from Spencer up onto the mattress. 

“What do you mean, ew?” he asks in mock offense as her legs swing in the air. “You’re next!”

You watch in unadulterated joy as he peppers little kisses all over her face and she pretends to hate it, squealing with glee.

“Is that for me?” he asks once she’s comfortably sharing his lap with you, pointing to the forgotten waffle. She holds it up, pressing the disk against his lips. Spencer takes a bite, makes an exaggerated yum sound, and kisses her forehead once more. “Thank you. That was delicious.”

“You have to eat all of it so you’ll grow up big and strong.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll do that. Why don’t you leave it on the nightstand and go find a book we can read together?”

“Game of Thrones!”

“No!” he laughs. “That book is way too grownup for you!”

“But I read the first three pages!”

“I know you did. And Auntie Penelope is still in big trouble for that. Go get Lord of the Rings.”

Full of energy despite the early hour, Ada skitters off again to find the book. 

“She’s too smart for her own good,” you sigh, listening to her making up a song as she picks through the book shelf in the next room. 

“Intelligence is generally more nurture than nature. If we act fast we could probably stunt her IQ to just two or three standard deviations above the average.”

You giggle, straddling him as he slips his hand under your shirt to rub your back. Then you try to school your features into a serious expression.

“Not funny.”

That big, lazy grin might never fade—and you’d be happy to look at it forever. 

“You’re right. Not funny at all.”

“Hey,” you remember, grabbing his biceps. He raises his eyebrows expectantly. “I was gonna make you real breakfast. What do you want?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t. I want to. So tell me what you want.”

“Anything other than a toaster waffle.”

You snort, moving to slide off the bed. 

“We can probably make that happen.”

“Hey—" he catches your waist, pulling you closer. “Penelope is taking Ada to the park this afternoon. We’re gonna spend some time together, okay?”

After having an entire child together, you still get butterflies when he looks at you like that. 

“What if I have plans this afternoon?”

Spencer doesn’t even look mildly concerned—just tilts his head, brushes his thumb over your lips. 

“Then I’m asking you to cancel them, pretty girl. I owe you some undivided attention.”

You chew on your lip. It’s embarrassing how easily he can still fluster you. 

“Right now I have to go find out why our child is being so quiet.”

He laughs, letting you slip from his grasp for good. 

“She probably got into the Stephen King again.”

You pick up the waffle and gesture at him with it emphatically as you walk away.

“This is all your fault.”

“Mm… let’s call it a team effort.”

[afro-hispwriter]

Ewan Mitchell drabble

Ewan Mitchell x reader

Summary- you've been trying to get Ewan to watch Game of Thrones with you.

Warnings- language?, dirty minds? 

Wc-480

-

"This is the perfect time Ewan, I'm rewatching the show you can watch it with me. Please!" You pleaded with a pout at the man.

"No.”

"Please, just one episode, or if you really like it, or the first 6 seasons at least."

"No."  He flopped on the couch. 

"Ewan!" 

"Yes love?" He raised an eyebrow at you.

"Please, one episode." You climbed into his lap and hooked your hands on the back of his neck. "I will do anything you want for a week." 

Ewan licked his lips and grabbed your wrists to bring them to his mouth. He kissed them both and looked up at you. 

"Even." He let your wrists go and grabbed your hips instead to pull you in closer. He pushed his face up so his nose brushed against yours. "That steak recipe your mother served us last week?" Your shoulders slumped and your eyes rolled. 

"No fun." You started sliding off his lap but he tightened his grip.

"Not everyone has a dirty mind like you." 

"Just one episode and I will never bother you about it again." You fiddled with the silver chain on his neck. 

"I doubt that but it's still no, and you know why." 

"Ewannn." You elongated. "Season 2 has yet to air and even then, you have to wait for them to announce if they are renewing it for a third season." 

"I need to keep an open mind."

"You can still do that with one episode." You smiled brightly, Ewan threw his head back and scoffed in amusement. His Adam’s apple moved and you ducked your head down to place a light kiss on either side. 

“Nope, none of that.” Ewan lifted his head and grabbed your chin. “You will not tempt me.” You pouted once again and moved your face out of his grip, then leaned over to grab the table next to the couch for your phone. 

“Guess I will just have to call Tom and see if he wants to come over and watch it with me.” You said, pretending to be annoyed. You slid off his lap and sat next to him. You pretended to dial your friend when Ewan snatched the phone out of your hand and tossed it on the coffee table. The six-foot man practically flattened you into the couch. You giggled but it was silenced by Ewan’s thin lips being placed on yours.

“One episode.” He says after pulling away. Your face brightened.

“You won’t regret it.”

-

“Are you serious? They’re just going to kill Ned just like that?” Ewan says in disbelief as he stands before the large TV. “When does the little shit Joffery die?” He turns to you in search of an answer. You smirked and crossed your legs. 

“Guess we’ll have to keep watching.”

-

A/n- low key wanna do mini Ewan drabbles

[entitled-fangirl]

Chance.

Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!reader; Aegon II x wife!reader

Summary: All of Aemond's life, Aegon has tormented him. When Aemond's plan is set in motion, he hopes the reader moves right into his arms.

Part 2

Masterlist

...............................................................

"My queen." Aemond murmured out into the quiet space of the library. 

Y/n looked up, her brows furrowed. She abandoned the book she was reading, not caring what becomes of it. 

She immediately runs to Aemond, wrapping her arms around him. "You're back," she said with a muffled voice against his chest.

He stiffened, not quite returning the hug. 

She pulled away, taking his face in her hands, "Are you alright?" Her eyes scanned his face carefully, "Tell me you are."

He nodded with a huff, his hands gripping her wrists. "Fine."

Her lips pulled into a small smile and she dropped her hands. "Good. Good. And…?"

The question hung in the air. 

Aemond hummed, "Meleys and her rider Rhaenys are both dead."

Her eyes widened. "Dead?"

"Slain by the king."

She looked down at her hands in thought.

Aemond knew what she wanted to ask. 

But he wouldn't give it to her. 

Make her work for it.

"And is… is Aegon alright?"

There it was. 

Of course the pretty little thing cared for that beast of a man.

Aemond only stared at her with a tilted head. 

"Aemond…?" She asked with a now scared expression.

Finally, he spoke, "He's being carried to his room now."

…

"A betrothal, you say?" Lord Baratheon asked with a curious brow.

"Yes," Aemond confirmed. "A betrothal of your daughter to me, as the second son and next in line for the throne."

"An excellent match, indeed," Baratheon mulled over. 

Y/n Baratheon stood idly by her father, a confused look on her face. 

Surely her father wouldn't just-

"Very well, my prince."

Aemond couldn't stop the smirk that grew on his face. 

In all honestly, he had come empty handed. Aegon and Alicent had not sent him with a barter in mind. 

But when he saw Y/n, he came up with the idea himself. 

Mother wouldn't mind. Y/n Baratheon was a wise match, and anything to further our allies along would be no issue. 

And Y/n was beautiful.

Perhaps that's why Aegon had to take her from him. 

…

She had ran as fast as she could up to the king's chambers. Though Aemond's legs were quite a bit longer than hers, he had to sprint to keep up.

She threw the door open.

Aegon laid in the bed, his body mangled from dragon fire. 

A horrified shriek left her throat.

Aemond felt a cold shiver run down his spine at it. 

She moved forward, but he wrapped an arm around her to keep her from going. 

She wanted to have the strength to fight him, she really did. But, she couldn't bring herself to.

She turned into his chest, beginning to wail against him. 

Aemond brought his other hand up to run over her hair as he whispered mocking cooes into her ear. 

Although Aegon still lived, perhaps his plan could still work. 

…

Aemond grabbed her waist, helping her down the last few feet of the climb down Vhagar's side. 

Once her feet reached stone, she finally took in King's Landing. "I see why everyone wants to be here," she said to him. 

"A blessing only for some, my dear doe," he mused and offered his arm. 

…

She never left Aegon's bedside. 

It was sickening to Aemond, really. 

That she'd be that devoted to that little scumb-

"My prince," Cole stated. 

Aemond turned, seeing the Hand there with a curious brow. "Forgive me, Ser Cole. I seem to be lost in my thoughts."

"Yes. Yes, I understand."

The silence was deafening, a ringing sound in their ears due to the lack of anything else.

"If this is for her," Cole finally said. "It won't work."

"Everyone is a mere pawn in the great game," Aemond said with a tight lip.

Criston moved to say more, but stopped himself. He moved to the door before pausing, "As long as the king lives, she'll never be yours."

…

"Baratheon, you said?" Aegon frowned. His head turned to Aemond, "Brother, I sent you for an army and you come back with a betrothal?"

"If you'll bless it, my king." Aemond said with a clenched jaw. 

Aegon's focus moved back to the girl, "Pretty, aren't you?"

Y/n stood a bit behind Aemond, an intimidated look on her face at the sight of the Iron Throne. 

Aemond quickly moved in front of her to block her from Aegon's gaze, "The Baratheons are on our side if you do this."

Alicent turned to Aegon, "Darling, we need this."

Aegon tilted his head, and a haunting smile came over his face. He stood, taking a long stretch before walking down the stairs of the throne. 

He stood only a few feet from Aemond, "Move."

Aemond's jaw clenched but he took a step to the side.

Aegon now drank in the girl in front of him fully. His head tilted as he circled her with slow, menacing steps, "Very pretty for a Baratheon."

Aemond noticed the ever-growing look of fear in her eyes. He moved forward, but Alicent caught his arm.

Aegon stopped in front of the girl, looking right into her eyes. His voice was low, "I have a better proposition."

The one-eyed brother felt his stomach drop. But Aegon had already began to leave the throne room, leaving him to wonder what devious ploy his brother was making that would his life that much worse.

…

Aemond paused outside the door.

It was eating him from the inside. 

He opened it slowly, bracing himself for the sight.

Aegon laid in the bed, unmoving as he had been.

Y/n was in the chair next to the bed. Her hands gripped Aegon's undamaged one, and she had fallen asleep with her head resting on the bed.

Aemond should've left them, but he didn't. 

He rounded the bed to Aegon's side of it, his eye roaming over the extensive burns. 

He should've finished it when he had the chance.

Killed Cole when he saw.

He wanted the girl to come to him for comfort. 

Now, she wasted away next to the king that was almost a corpse. 

If Aemond just killed the king now in bed while she remained unknowing, perhaps that would seal their fates together.

His finger grazed the blade of Aegon the Conqueror when she began to stir.

She looked up with glossy eyes and a groggy voice came out, "Aemond?"

He looked to her.

She had gotten no sleep besides small cat naps. Dark circles under her eyes and a slight hallowing look to her cheeks.

"When was the last time you left this room, little doe?"

She tilted her head in confusion, "I… well…"

"When?" He pressed.

When she didn't answer, he hummed, moving to the door and barking something at one of the guards outside of it. 

When he returned, he moved to her this time. He ran a hand through her hair, "Your hair is unkept."

She nodded, "I don't care about hair right now, Aemond."

"You know that's not what I meant."

She let out a sigh, "Doesn't matter."

A small laugh left him. "Lean back."

"What?"

He brought his hands up, pulling her to rest her back against the back of the chair. His hand gripped her chin and made her look away from him.

His hands began to work through her hair. 

Aemond was gentle.

It surprised her to see anything with the blood of a dragon, much less Aemond, be calm and gentle with her.

She let out a soft hum when he hit a certain spot, and he smirked. 

Like putty in his hands.

He began to section her hair, his long fingers taking the strands easily.

"What are you-"

"Quiet. Just sit and let me care for you."

She didn't move. Didn't speak. 

As Aemond Targaryen began to braid her hair. 

It was no intricate weave. But it was a steady braid. 

He tied it off and studied it, critiquing it in his head. He hummed and moved back in her eyesight.

Her eyes were glossy, "Thank you."

He shrugged lightly, "Don't."

"Why not? You've always cared for me. Even when…" he voice trailed off when she looked over to Aegon.

His gaze followed hers, remembering Aegon's dying presence. "Right."

A servant entered with a tray of food and Aemond immediately stood and took it from them. 

He moved back to the girl, setting the tray on the bed in front of her, "Now, eat."

"Aemond, I'm not-"

"Eat, pretty doe," he almost demanded.

She looked up to him, studying him before nodding, "Fine."

He watched her as she began to eat. 

Aemond hummed, "Finish, and we will go on a walk."

She shook her head, "I shouldn't leave."

He smiled, "Only for a moment." He leaned down, pressing a cold kiss to her temple. "You need the sunshine," he murmured into her ear.

She turned her head at that, their faces now inches away.

His eye scanned across her face.

Such a pretty doe. 

A low, groggy voice interrupted, "A… Aemond…"

Y/n's head snapped to Aegon, whose good eye was open, trying to recognize everything around him.

Aemond stood straight and Y/n almost crawled up the bed getting to the king.

Her touches were gentle against his cheek, "My love."

Aegon studied her for a moment but it was short lived as he looked back to Aemond.

"Perhaps I should leave you two," Aemond finally said.

"Wait." She said as he began to walk away. "I…" She paused in thought. "I would still enjoy a walk. Another time."

Aemond couldn't stop the smirk that ran across his face, "Another time then, my queen."

Her attention moved back to Aegon, and Aemond left the room with heavy steps.

He wished more and more that he had just finished it all when he had the chance.

...............................................................

part 2

[k4marina]

— viii. Beyond the Wall || Heart of the Dragon

synopsis: while you and jon lead a hunting party north of the wall, you come face to face with a being that you'd only read about in history books.

warning: game of thrones cannon violence and themes follows the episode Beyong the Wall [S7, Ep6]

all dialogue in italics is Valyrian

authors note at the end !!

series masterlist || next part

game of thrones x modern!fem!reader

4.9k word count

[gif found on pinterest]

The weather had gotten slightly better, the sun was now up in the sky and the snow settled allowing you to see clearly again. The terrain had gotten more jagged the higher we climbed up the mountain. Piles of snow covered the already icy terrain, making it even harder to walk up the mountain. Had I’d known that I’d be brought back in time I would have packed my snowshoes. My feet felt numb and damp from the cold weather and the nonstop walking. 

Tormund led the group with Jon and I behind him. Gendry was by Jon’s side close by. Behind us were the Hound and Beric, another Wildling scout, and all the way in the back Jorah and Thoros who were busy talking amongst themselves. 

“Say we get what we came here for,” Jon glanced at me. “How are we supposed to get back to Eastwatch?”

“I’ll call Viserion and he’ll fly us back.”  

“He’ll hear you this far?” 

“I’ve instructed him to stay close. You may not be able to see him, but he’s a lot closer than you’d think."  

“Shouldn’t he be here with us so he can protect us?”

I thought for a moment before I replied. “The Night King can raise beings from the dead. You’ve seen what he can do with people and bears.” I turned to look at him. “Imagine what he could do with a dragon.” Jon stops for a moment but then nods, finally understanding why I was so protective of Viserion. 

I didn’t need to imagine like Jon, I knew exactly how the Night King raised Viserion and used him to burn down the Wall. I’ve already gotten rid of most of Euron’s fleet, lowering the chances of Rhaegal’s death, but the Night King was who I was the most worried about. If he could get his hands on a dragon then the destruction he would cause would be catastrophic.

Out in the distance, we could hear the sound of metal clinking. Tormund motions for everyone to stop and carefully walks forwards and peers over the edge of the cliff. He turns and motions for Jon and I to come see. A line of wights marched forwards led by a White Walker. 

“Where's the rest of them?” Jon asks no one in particular. 

“If we wait long enough we’ll find out.” Tormund says. The three of us walked back to the group once the undead were out of sight. 

“There’s a line of the undead marching to somewhere,” Tormund said to the group. 

“We need a plan, a good one.” I said. “Any ideas?” Everyone glanced at each other, waiting for someone to pipe up, but no one did.

I let out a breath, “alright, huddle up. Here’s what we’re going to do.” 

––

The undead marched in a line into a hilly area. The White Walker at the front of the line stopped hearing a crackling causing the other wights behind him to halt. It looks forwards and steps ahead, spotting a small burning fire. It cautiously walks towards it, assessing his surroundings. But before it could turn back, everyone sprung up from hiding, ambushing the wights. 

Jon takes on the White Walker while the rest of us fight the wights who relentlessly attack even after they’ve been cut down. Every time one of us cuts them down, they keep getting back up. As planned, Jon slays the White Walker, plunging Longclaw into his abdomen. It violently shakes and collapses into ice, causing the rest of the wights, except for one, to crumble to the ground. We huddled around the remaining wight, looking for an opportunity to grab onto it. 

Huffing, Tormund throws his axe down and punches the wight square in its mouth, knocking it down. Sandor jumps onto it as it screeches and writhes under the Hound while Beric, Thoros, and Gendry hold down its limbs. 

“Gag it!” Sandor yells. 

I reached into my pocket, quickly pulling out a makeshift gag and stuffing it into his mouth just in time, cutting its loud screeching. Sandor puts a bag around its head and ties it with rope while the rest of the men put chains around him and put it into the cage we brought. 

But it wasn’t quick enough. A low rumbling could be heard in the distance. Jon turns back, all of us knowing what that meant.  

“Call him!” Jon yells. 

I looked up to the sky, silently praying Viserion was nearby. “Come to me, now!” 

It’s silent for a moment, apart from the light rumbling, but then we can hear the sound of wings flapping and Viserion roaring out in the distance. 

“He’s too far! Run!” Jon screams, panicked. He turns and makes a run for it, all of us following after him. The rumbling grows louder and as the undead closes in on us. 

We ran into a clearing, a rock in the middle of it with the wights hot on our trail. The ground cracks as we run and climb onto the huge rock. There’s a scream behind us and I turn to see a wildling scout being grabbed by a wight, but when he falls to the ground the frozen lake gives way and the wildling and weight fall through. 

Everyone watched in horror as the army of the undead circled around us. The ice on top of the lake broke away, leaving us encircled by a line of broken ice and frigid water. The undead stood at the edge of the water, not daring to go any further, unless they wanted to drown and die. Their hollow eyes locked onto us watching our every move. 

“Where’s the dragon!” Someone shouts. 

I looked up, wondering the same thing. 

My heart beat loudly and my throat closed up. There were more wights surrounding us and if we stayed any longer the Night King would be here. I turned to face the others, who were clearly disheveled and panicking themselves. Jon stares off where the wights stood, almost anticipating an attack. 

Where the fuck was Viserion?

As if he heard me, there's a loud roar overhead and then fire rains down from the sky and burns the wights. Everyone's head snaps up as Viserion flies by, torching the undead and turning them into ash. 

“Move! Make way!” I flailed my arms around, motioning everyone to step back and create a clearing for Viserion to land. He lands onto the rock and everyone climbs up. I sat at the front with Jon, Tormund, Jorah and Gendry made sure the cage was properly secured while Beric and Sandor carefully helped the injured Thoros up onto the dragon.  

Swiftly, Visierion flies up and back towards Eastwatch. I looked down, watching the undead burn when something caught my eye. I squinted and spotted the Night King. 

In his hand was an ice spear and I felt my heart drop. My hands tightened around Viserion’s spikes. I turned back to the men behind me who were holding onto dear life. 

“Hold on tight! Do not let go!” 

They hunker down, some readjusting their grip. I look down again and see the Night King preparing his aim at us.

“Evade, Viserion. Do not let him touch you.”

Viserion dives down, burning as much as he could. He circles around and faces the Night King, who throws the spear towards us. Quickly, Viserion dodges, pivoting left and rains fire from where the attack came before retreating fully. 

I glanced back, but couldn’t see the Night King anywhere. 

––

When we arrived back at Eastwatch, night had fallen. The ship had been waiting for us, ready for immediate departure. Jorah and Sandor dragged the cage with the wight aboard while Jon said his goodbyes to Tormund. 

“Let’s go.” He turns to me. 

I shook my head. “You go, I still have something to do.” 

Jon, gobsmacked, shakes his head. “No, you saw what’s over that wall. You can’t go.”

“I have to.” I said. “And before you say anything, Daenerys knows that I’m doing this.” 

“Fine.” He huffs. “I’ll go with you.” 

“No you won't. You have to get back to Dany.” 

“And you don't?"

“I do. Just after I’ve done this.” 

He sighs, eyes darting back. “At least take Tormund with you.” 

“You know I can’t-”

“Please.” He cuts me off. He frowns and I sighed. 

“Fine, I’ll think about it.”

Satisfied, he backs down. “Good.” 

“Now go. You have a Dragon Queen waiting for you.” I lightly shoved him back towards the ship. He shakes his head but boards the ship. Tormund and I stood there watching as the ship finally sailed off. 

––

The sun had just risen when Tormund and I met again in the hall. We each had a bowl of hot stew in front of us. 

“Alright, tell me the plan.” Tormund says, shoving a spoonful of the stew into his mouth. 

I drank some of the ale we’d been given. “I need to find a cave.” 

“There are a lot of caves.” 

“I know that.” I crossed my arms on top of the table. “This one is about east of the Fist of the First Men and west of the headwaters of the Antler River. There should be a huge Weirwood tree on top of it in a huge clearing.” 

He stops eating, staring at me. “There’s something in the caves.” 

I nod. “Something very valuable.” 

“Is it a dragon egg?”

I shake my head. “No.” 

“Then what?” 

“I’ll show you when I have it. So, can you help me?” 

He keeps his intense eye contact with me while slowly bringing a spoonful of the stew to his mouth. He loudly slurped, dragging it on longer than he should have. 

“Aye.” 

–––

“There,” Tormund's hand stuck out, pointing down at a small clearing in a forest below us. “If you land there then we’ll only have to walk a distance.” 

I nod and Viserion ascends down, carefully landing. We get off and Tormund rummages in his pack, pulling out an unlit torch. He raises it up to Viserion, waiting. I furrowed my brows, wondering what he was doing when it dawned on me. 

Knowing as well, Viserion looks back to me and I nod. He turns back and lets out just enough fire to light the torch without burning the Wildlings hand. 

Ecstatic, Tormund looks back at me, like a child. “Look!” I had to stop myself from laughing how easily entertained he was. 

Is this what the man who first created fire looked like?

I turned back to Viserion. “Stay vigilant for the undead. And stay close, I may need you.” He purrs, understands and flies away.

“Why isn’t he coming?” 

“Too much attention.” 

“What if we see White Walkers?” 

“What? Tormund Giantsbane can’t take care of a few White Walkers?” 

He puffs his chest, holding onto the torch tighter. “Of course I can!”

“Then let's go,” I said. 

We started walking through the dense forest, Tormund leading the way. The land was rugged and snowy, like most of the terrain beyond the Wall. My eyes scanned ahead in case any White Walkers or wights tried to attack us. We walked for hours before finally coming across it.

There was a clearing in the forest. A jagged hill in the middle with boulders around it. At the top was a giant Weirwood tree. Its branches fanned far out and high, its red leaves glowing in the sun. The trunk of the three was thick, a testament to how old it was. Its roots spread all over, some even exposed and covered in layers of snow. At the base of the hill, behind the boulders was a secret entrance. It looked as if it was blown open and then covered in rocks.

“Well we’re fucked.” Tormund says. “What the fuck even happened here?”

“White Walkers.” I replied, looking for an alternative entrance. “They ravaged the place.” 

“Looks like they did more than ravage.” 

I looked around for an alternative way in, pushing back rocks and the snow around the hill, but couldn’t find anything. 

“Right there,” Tormund points to a small opening, just enough for one person to pass through. It was on the other side of the hill, behind a large boulder. 

“You’ll have to stay out here.” I reached for the torch, but he pulled it away. 

“You don’t know what’s in there.” 

“Yes I do.” A few dead bodies and what I came here for the first place. 

“You just said White Walkers were here. They could be inside right now.” 

“And if they are, then I’ll kill them with my dagger.” 

“But-” 

“Tormund,” I firmly squeezed his arm. “I need you to stand guard and watch for any threat.”  He stops talking and puffs up again, nodding. He hands me the torch and pulls out his axe. 

I carefully slipped through the entrance, holding the torch out in front of me. Was it wrong for me to play into Tormund’s almost himbo mindset to get him to stay out? Sure. But, he didn’t seem to mind that much, happy to play on as the ‘big strong guy.’ 

Vines and three roots covered every inch of the place, even the ceiling. The passageway was narrow but opened up the deeper you went. I spotted a corpse of a man on the heavier side hunched over by a wall, which I assumed led to the other entrance. A little ways ahead, a direwolf with a white belly and a light brown fur coat lay lifeless too. The passageway opened into a large room, covered in three roots coming from up above. Bits of sunlight shone through the walls and ceiling. It was like being inside of a huge tree. 

In the middle of the room a cluster of roots stood tall, reaching from the ceiling to the floor. Its wild tendrils mimicked the Iron Throne, and at the center was a frail, dead body of a man. He was entwined into the roots, having been there for a very long time, his nails long and jagged, arms and fingers boney, his silver white hair falling out. 

This was it. 

I searched the room, high and low, looking for what I came for. It wasn’t until I turned to look around the man did I spot it, covered in its black and red scabbard with faded gold detailing. I set the torch down, getting on my hands and knees to dig it out of the mess of tree roots. Finally free, I was able to fully admire it. 

I pulled the blade out of its sheath, the almost metallic liquid looking steel shining back at me, even after all these years of not being used it still looked to be in somewhat pristine condition. Its crossguard was made up of gold and in the design of dragonwings with a bright red ruby at the center above the rainguard. Its grip was leather bound, clearly worn with a scale pattern on them, and the pommel was made of two pieces; a golden piece mimicking fire and a chunk of Valyrian steel molded into a dragon egg. 

Quickly I sheathed the sword and grabbed the torch, making my way back. I walked briskly, feeling that something was off. As I approached the entrance I could hear grunting and an axe swinging before a thud. I hurried and got out, only to see Tormund on the ground, a wight on top of him while he tried to push it back. 

I work fast to pull the sword out of its scabbard, running to where Tormund was. I lift the sword high and bring it down onto the wight, killing it instantly. Panting, he pushes the wight off of him and back onto his feet, grabbing his axe. 

“Took you long enough.” He gets ready for another quip, but stops when he sees what’s in my hand. 

“What is that?”

“Dark Sister.”

––

“You’re not going to take a ship?” I shook my head at Tormund. “It’ll take too long.” 

“And on Dragon?” 

“Long, but still faster than a ship.” 

Viserion growls behind us, eager to leave and get back to his mother and two brothers.

“I’ll see you again.” I say.

“Stay safe, dragon women.” He sticks his hand out and we shake, holding onto each other forearms.

“You as well.”

I quickly mount Viserion, and take to the sky. The cold wind blew past me and I sighed, finally able to go home. 

–– 

Night had fallen by the time I had arrived back to Dragonstone. The moon lit my way from the cliff sides to the castle. Viserion quickly went to find his brothers, exhausted from flying in the North so much. 

I found Daenerys in the throne room, staring out of the large floor to ceiling windows, deep in thought. The door closed softly behind me, catching her attention. 

“You’re back. Was there any trouble?” 

“Had a brief encounter, but other than that nothing else.” 

She saw me covering the sword behind me. “What is that?”

“It’s yours.” I stepped closer, grabbing her hand and leading her up to the throne. “Nearly half a century ago, your family lost one of its ancestral swords. And it wasn’t until hundreds of years later was it found again by explorers.”

“I don’t understand.” 

I stood her in front of the throne, stepping back. “Brynden Rivers, bastard son of Aegon the Unworthy. In 233, he traveled to the wall with the sword and later became Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, but then he vanished while he was ranging beyond the wall, taking the sword with him.”

I pulled the sword from behind me, taking it out of its scabbard and presented it to her. The moonlight pouring into the throne room glistened against the blade. The gold detailing, despite its rust, stood out against the Valyrian steel detailing. And the bright ruby that already stood out, glowed a deep red. 

“Dark Sister,” Daenerys said, breathless. 

Carefully, she reached out, letting her fingers glide across the swirling steel. She finally grasped the slim handle, feeling the weight of the sword. Her eyes lingered on it before shifting towards me. 

“That’s why you went.” 

“Partially, but yes.” I replied. “Bit by bit, we’re going to restore your family back to its former glory. Starting with this sword.” 

––

Everyone stood in the open courtyard, eagerly waiting for the “demonstration.” 

Daenerys stood on the steps, Missandei, Tyrion, Varys, and I at her sides. Grey Worm and a few Unsullied stood close to them, ready for a sudden attack. Jon and his men stood in the middle of the courtyard, a box at their feet. 

“You said you wanted proof of the undead,” Jon looked at Daenerys. He motioned for Jorah to open the lid of the box, reaching in and pulling off the burlap sack. Sandor kicked the box and out fell a chained skeleton in rags. Everyone watched, intently, as the wight slowly woke up and let out a shrill. It tried to run and attack, but couldn’t as the chains kept him close to the box. 

Daenerys’ face drops, the full weight of the situation clear to her. This was more than a fight for the throne now, it was about life and death. Having seen enough she motions for Jon to cage the wight again. It screams when the Hound punches it in its face before being bound and caged again and then dragged away.

“All of you risked your life to bring the world proof of the undead.” Daenerys steps down the steps. She looks up at Jon. “We’re going to destroy the Night King and his army, together. You have my word.” 

There’s a weight lifted off of everyone, relieved that Daenerys had agreed to join sides with Jon. 

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Jon tilts his head down and to everyone's surprise sinks down to one knee. Daenerys’ eyes widened, more surprised than anyone else. “I swear my allegiance to you, Daenerys Targaryen.” 

“What about those that swore allegiance to you?” 

“They’ll all come to see you for who you really are.” Jon replied. 

Daenerys squares her shoulders. “Rise, Jon Snow, Lord of Winterfell.” He stands and Daenerys takes his hands in hers, and the two share an intimate moment. 

Eventually, someone (me) loudly cleared their throat, pulling them back to reality. Awkwardly, they let go of each other, stepping back as if they’d been caught by their parents. 

“Let’s discuss this further in the painted chamber,” Daenerys says. She turns and walks down the hall. 

Daenerys sat at the head of the table with Missandei and I at her sides. Tyrion and Varys sat down as well, while Grey Worm and Jorah stood behind Dany at attention. Jon sat on the other end with Ser Davos at his side and his men behind him. 

“What is the progress on our armistice with Cersei?” Daenerys asks. 

“Cersei has agreed to it, surprisingly.” Tyrion replied. 

“That was easy.” Davos says. 

“She thinks we’re surrendering.” I turned to Tyrion. “Where are we meeting?”

“The old Dragonpit on Visenya's Hill. We’ll bring 300 Unsullied with us, half will be our escorts, the other half will stay by our ships. We’ll also be bringing 50 Dothraki with us.” He replied.

“We did say that we’d bring a small army to King's Landing.” I nodded towards Daenerys. I looked back at Grey Worm. “How were the upgrades to the Unsullied’s armor?”

“They have worked well. The armor is durable and the weapons are light and sharp. The enemy fell easily to us.” Grey Worm, nods, appreciative. 

“Good.” Daenerys says, bringing the attention back to her. “You all will arrive first with our gift while Y/n and I will arrive on Dragonback.” 

“Nope.” I shook my head. Daenerys turned to me, confused. 

“But-”

I shake my head again. “Nope. You need to assert your dominance on Cersei. Only you and Drogon will arrive together while I arrive with the rest. And, try to make it dramatic.”

Daenerys smiled, “I’ll do my best.” She turned back to the others, more serious now. “What is the progress on our travel to Winterfell?” 

“They’re fairing well, Your Grace.” Varys replied. “The servants have started packing all necessary items.” 

“What about food?” 

“We’ve got plenty now that Highgarden is ours.” 

“And for the dragons?” I ask. 

“We’ve filled as much as we can, but I’m afraid it’s not much. Perhaps the dragons can hunt while they’re North?” 

“We’re going as guests to the North and you’re suggesting that we slaughter their livestock?” I raised a brow. “The Northerners are already suspicious of other Westerosi, imagine what they’d think if a Targaryen brought her foreign army and three dragons to eat all their food, they’d never support us then. It doesn’t matter that we’re going to defend all of humanity along with them, the North will remember this. We’re going to defend the North and make nice with them.” 

Varys closes his mouth, looking towards Daenerys, who nodded at what I’d been saying. “I apologize, My Lady, Your Grace. It seems I may have misjudged.” 

I sighed through my nose, averting my gaze to Tyrion. “What about the villages on the island?” 

“The villages on Dragonstone?” 

I nod. “Ask them if we can take a few sheep from their herds, don’t say it’s an order, but as a sign of good luck or support towards Daenerys and her cause.” 

“Why would they do that?” Daenerys asks. 

“The Targaryens and the villagers have had a close relationship for many years. Some villagers are descendants of Targaryen bastards while others families used to tend to the dragons that have lived here. And second, you’re their Lord, anything you say they’ll do, within reason of course.” 

Daenerys seems to go over my words before nodding. “Alright,” she turned to Tyrion, “you have your orders.”

“We should also send ravens to Highgarden, Sunspear, and Pyke. We’re going to need all hands on deck if we’re going to go against the Night King and his army.” I say. 

Daenerys nods. “The meeting is in a few days and we’re set for Winterfell in a few weeks, we can not make any mistakes. This is more than a fight for the Iron Throne, this a fight for the Realm.” 

––––––

“Around eight-thousands Unsullied, nearly fifty-thousand Dothraki, one hundred Ironborn ships, two-thousand men from the Reach, and fifteen-hundred Dornish. That’s what, sixty one-thousand five hundred men?” I read aloud, 

“And Cersei?” Daenerys asks, back to me and facing the window.

I sighed, looking down at the paper. “Around twenty-thousand Lannister soldiers, four-thousand in the City’s Watch, one hundred and fifty Ironborn ships, and if she’s lucky, which I doubt, twenty-thousand soldiers from the Golden Company. Making the grand total, forty four-thousand with the Company and twenty four-thousand without.” 

“She’s out numbers either way.” 

“She is, but that doesn’t mean she’s that less of a threat. Cersei’s forces may be smaller than yours, but she’s strategic and resourceful which is why when we’re in King’s Landing it’s important to keep your head on a swivel, you can’t underestimate her.” 

“Head on a swivel?” She turns, frowning. “Is this another one of your ‘figures of speech’?” 

“Yes, something like that.” I smiled. “But I’m being serious, Dany. Keep your eyes open for anything. It could be a remark or a gesture, you are our number one priority.” 

She nods, sitting down next to me. “What about Jon?” 

“His numbers?” 

“Yes.” 

I turned over the paper, “ten-thousand men from Northern houses, three-thousand Wildlings, and four-thousand Knights of the Vale.” 

“Which means seventeen-thousand in total.” She adds up. “Making my total forces seventy eight-thousand five hundred soldiers. How many would I lose after fighting the Night King?”

“Half at best. All of them at worst.” I stretched my back. “From what I remember, it’s estimated that he has almost two hundred-thousand in his army.”  

Daenerys looks at me, bewildered, “How are we supposed to win if she says no? We'd be greatly outnumbered.” 

I placed a hand over hers. “Well, for starters, we have three dragons, and once we’ve slain the Night King the rest of his army will fall. So the quicker we can shank him to death, the better our numbers.” 

She sighs, squeezing my hand. “It seems all you’ve been doing as of late is comforting me when I should be comforting you. You’ve fought in battle after battle, yet you don’t seem all that affected.” 

“It’s no big deal.” I gave her a small smile. 

She studies my face, frowning. “What is it?” 

I looked away, contemplating. “I had a dream the night before we’d arrived at Eastwatch. I doubt that it was a Dragondream, or it would have come true, or it was me remembering the future, but I dreamt about it.”

“What was it?” 

I faced her fully, grabbing her hands. “Originally, Jon and his men were supposed to go to Eastwatch. Once they’d gotten the wight, they were surrounded by the Night King and his army. Jon had sent one of the men with him back to send you a raven of what was happening. You and all of your dragons arrived to rescue them, but while fleeing the Night King threw a spear at Viserion, killing him.” I felt Daenerys’ grip on my hand tighten. “The rest of you managed to escape, but then the Night King resurrected Viserion and turned him into a wight. After that, he used Viserion to melt down the wall and march south.” 

Daenerys lets out a shaky breath. “But now he doesn’t have him, so he won’t be able to march south, right?” 

I shrugged. “In theory, but we live in a world of dragons and the undead walking.” I sighed, rubbing my face. “The Wall and him are made of the same magic, his is just darker, I guess? His sole reason for being alive is to cause destruction and plunge the world into a long and bitter winter. He’ll find a way south, it may take him some time, but it will happen.” 

She nodded, taking the information in as well as anyone would in her situation. 

“Hey,” I said. “No frowning, come on. We have a big day coming, so no frowning, okay?” 

She smiles, nodding. “Alight, no frowning.”

“So,” I smiled, my tone lighter. “How are you and Jon doing?” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” she replied quickly, turning away from me. 

“Oh, yeah?” I laughed. “Then that little scene in the courtyard was nothing? The way you two looked into each other's eyes.” I leaned in, placing my chin on her shoulder, looking over at her. “They way you two affectionately held onto each other's hands.” 

Her face turned red. “He was merely swearing his allegiance to me, nothing more.” 

“Uh-huh. And it has nothing to do with the fact that you two fancy each other?” 

“Jon likes me?” She quickly turns, trying her best to hide her smile. 

I huffed. “For someone who has nothing going on with him, you sure do look happy that he’s attracted to you.”

She looked like she'd been caught with her hand down the cookie jar. 

“Be honest, do you like him?”

She tried to hide her smile, looking down at her lap. “Yes.”

I smiled. “Finally, she admits it. I’m not against it,” I hummed. “You two would make a good couple, dare I say perfect.” 

She gasped, face red. “Alright, enough. Go, shoo, leave me be.” 

I laughed, getting up. “Fine, fine. But I’m not wrong. Maybe you should put some thought into it.” 

a/n: i know i'm horrible for updating late (like always), but i was soo stressed from shopping and packing everything that i kinda forgot about it ngl. but who cares lol.

i've suddenly gotten a bit more motivated to write some of my other series so perhaps i'll upload that, but it all depends on if the motherlands network allows me to.

anyways, i'll be back with another chapter once i'm back home. see you all!

taglist: @wotcherpeak @music-luver25 @your-favorite-god @radiantdanvers @cluelessteam @daenerys713 @ministark @laanswife @idohknow @jromanoff @bdudette @bitchyfestivalbouquet @glitteryobjecttaco @cantbecreative @lovelyteenagebeard @the0twst0shrimp0mc @sucker4seresin @marytargaryen @naneko31 @9tailedfoxfire @iilsenewman @ivyrose9194 @coffee-is-my-oxygen @mysterypotatoink @bitchycolletorvoid @nattysplatty @wifiatthetrainstation @nymeriiiia @llynx7 @pookynknowntranger @riley-625-bell @myathegoat @evilunicorns4minions @honeycola-umbra

[asoiafreadthru]

A Game of Thrones, Bran III

Wings unseen drank the wind and filled and pulled him upward.

The terrible needles of ice receded below him. The sky opened up above.

Bran soared. It was better than climbing. It was better than anything.

The world grew small beneath him.

“I’m flying!” he cried out in delight.

I’ve noticed, said the three-eyed crow.

[lukolathoughts]

The crazy woman in the attic

She glides silently across the deck, a pale spectre draped in a flowing white gown that flutters in a breeze no one feels. Her bare feet make no sound on the worn wooden planks, and her greasy, oil slicked hair streams behind her like seaweed caught in the gloomy moonlight. The ship groans softly beneath her, as if remembering something lost.

Her face is turned slightly downward, eyes shadowed yet distant, fixed on a point far beyond the ship’s railing—as though watching a horizon that no longer exists. A dark shadow clings to her, faint and unearthly, casting a melancholy sheen over the deck and leaving a trail of cold in her wake.

Sometimes, she pauses by the helm, resting a translucent hand on the wheel. Other times, she lingers by the lifeboats, lips moving in a silent litany. Always alone. Always searching.

The fog thickens when she appears, muffling the world into stillness, and though the sea may churn and the stars may shift, she walks on—eternally adrift in the ghost-light hours, a memory carved into the bones of the ship.

One of my favourite fiction novels is Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. I love this gothic tale of female empowerment, secrets, romance and mystery. I studied it for A Level English Literature in Sixth form college back in the day and I have loved it ever since. I think this is because in my early teens I read novels by English author Catherine Cookson. These were romance novels set in the 19th century North-east of England and involved the upper and lower classes living in the manor estates or the slums of Newcastle respectively. These books were later turned into ITV dramas, for example, Sean Bean from Game of Thrones fame appeared in the Gambling Man in 1995. Many British actors got their big breaks appearing in Catherine Cookson dramas. My favourite one is The Glass Virgin that starred Emily Mortimer and Brendan Coyle. Mortimers character Annabella finds out she is the bastard daughter of a prostitute after being raised as a lady all her whole life. She is forced to leave the manor house with dashing groom Manuel (Coyle) by her side and work on a farm. The two eventually fall in love and Annabella reckons with her past. I especially like this one as it gives a romanticized notion that a big, strong, man will sweep in to save you. At thirteen, I found that idea appealing. Alas, dear reader I was too young yet to have discovered feminism.

Enter Jane Eyre, or 'plain Jane' her cruel cousins and aunt called her. Part of my A Level study was analysing whether Jane was plain, or she believed it due to being called plain her entire life. This is the kind of bullying I find abhorrent to this day. Jane eventually grows up after much maltreatment and a tough stint at a school for orphans, she takes a position at Thornfield Hall. She there meets the charming Edward Rochester. Here's me squealing in my tracks! Aha, a love story! How wonderful. This I can get on board with. Oh, it will be like the Sound of Music - minus the Nazi's. Rochester and Jane will go skipping off into the sunset singing Climb Every Mountain.

Our survey says - loud buzzer! Negative. Spoiler alert, there is something more sinister lurking above Jane every night. The floorboards creak with increasing intensity and Jane spots things from the corner of her eye. Edward reassures her she is imagining things and Thornfield is not haunted. Gaslighting 101 from our male lead. I still do not know what is going, but Jane is freaked out, and so am I. Why can’t Rochester be honest to Jane about what is really going on with his wife? Why all the lies and secrecy that literally ends up with Rochester losing his sight. There are consequences to your actions, Rochester.

Onto Eloise's instalment of the Bridgeton books 'To Sir Phillip, With Love." I love this book as I find book Eloise quirky and funny and Sir Phillip dark and mysterious enough to be unbelievingly sexy. I am going to spoil to fifth book here briefly, and by proxy the show. Let us talk about Marina. Oh, Marina. We last saw the universally loathed character of TV show Marina 'happily' wed to her dead lover's brother Phillip, after Colin makes a visit to Romney Hall to settle his 'unfinished business'. Marina is suffering from what I suspect is post-natal depression, possibly post-natal psychosis and the fact she does not love Phillip. Colin is too absorbed in himself to really understand the nuance of what is going on here and only really hears the word 'Penelope' that makes his head whip around like someone offered him a million pounds. The Nile is a river in Egypt, Mr Bridgerton (cough, Newton). In the books (spoiler) some years after the birth of her twins and the death of her love George, Marina dons a red dress and walks through the ghostly, morning mist and wanders directly into the estate’s lake. Sir Philip rescues her, but it is too late. She dies from fever a few days later.

Marina is dead and I'm assuming the producers of Bridgerton will go down this route in the show as the actress Ruby Barker has her own well documented mental health struggles as well as criticism of Shondland and does not want to be involved in the series. But the spectre of her will always be there, won't she? Eloise has no idea what she is walking into in the aftermath at Romney Hall with 'the ghost' of Marina floating about, emotionally at the very least. Colin and Penelope still have some unresolved issues when it comes to their relationship on the show and how Lady Whistledown saved Colin's ass from the fate of being married to a pregnant woman who tried to trap him into a loveless marriage. I'm sure some of this will be addressed shortly within the show, because frankly Colin should be kissing the ground Pen walks on and I'm sure she does occasionally make him do that.

I find that with Luke and Nicola, art literally imitates life. You can't make it up sometimes. Whether you think of Antonia as Marina - the ghost that wanders around the manor driving an invisible emotional wedge between them. Or Mrs Rochester, the crazy, vengeful woman in the attic who burns down the house. Or Cressida, the blackmailer, who wants money and infamy in exchange for silence. There are many possibilities to choose from. Even as I type this, Antonia is up to some shizz on social media, and I am determined to find out what is going on.

There has been a curious timeline of events since January 30th when Luke appeared out of the blue with Antonia after not being seen with her since July 2024 in Sorrento, where he left alone and two days before the holiday was meant to end. I still remember the shock of that night and thinking what the hell. We have examined Luke’s behaviour, demeanour and aura that night until the cows come home, and I do not intend to rehash old blog posts, however the whole thing really felt like an orchestrated PR set up pushed specifically by Antonia’s team (her parents) and a situation Luke was forced into. His ‘let’s get this done’ comment was a statement sniggered at by Lukola’s all over the world.  As well as witnessing Luke hand swatting Antonia’s hand away as they walked into the event.

Prior to this event, on 20th January 2025, Nicola and Jake papped photographs were released on the ‘carrot walk’ stroll. All of us Lukola’s laughed hysterically about that at the time. It staged and Nicola and Jake thought it was funny too. But what if this was a calculated strike by Luke and Nicola’s PR teams to take some heat of the impending shit show that was coming up with Luke and Antonia ten days later. I think that failed as everyone and their mother was shocked and horrified to see a angry Luke drag out a terrified and stricken looking Antonia. I always thought Antonia would smirk and gloat and relish to be seen with Luke again. Her behaviour seemed so anxious and peculiar; it almost seems as if she was forced into the appearance herself. I will return to this point shortly.

One month later 18th February Luke was solo papped in Kensington in London taken by papazzi photographer Josh Mawr, incidentally the same pap who took the carrot stroll pics of Nicola and Jake. The photos were shared by Deux Moi.  The fandom breathed a sigh of relief, he was alone. He was also alone at the Valentine’s Day event the week before. But he had not been without Antonia at the BAFTA after Party on Sunday 16th February. There was lots of speculation again about Luke’s ambivalent behaviour towards Antonia at this event also. Luke made a point of sharing to his SM that he left the event alone but got into a pasta bed and watched Love Island. Unfortunately, the fandom associate pasta with Antonia. I think we have pasta PTSD. But we also associate Love Island with Nicola, and her love for reality TV. What message was Luke trying to convey here?

Then we had the glory of the SAGS. The whole world was captivated by Luke and Nic and I honestly think after the event, Nicola panicked and went into her default setting of oh shit. We got some suspicious sightings of Antonia suddenly in the LA hotel that appeared to be old and the ‘buddy’ narrative from Nicola. Then Nicola follows Antonia on Instagram. The earth shook. This can’t be right, right? It’s a joke? Antonia eagerly follows her back. I don’t like to pit women against each other, but to me these screams keep you friends close, but your frenemies closer. Also, PR/contract obligation. Antonia gains some new followers, not many and seems to have a bit of actual work going on around the time.

Here comes the big kicker. On 18th March, Luke and Antonia are papped running errands. Antonia looks like she just rolled out of bed and Luke looks like he needs to take something for constipation. He’s also seen picking his nose and looking like rather be anywhere else in the world. Who was the paparazzi I hear you ask? None other than Josh Mawr. Third time lucky, eh Josh? These paparazzi pictures did Luke and Antonia no favours. But as someone just pointed out to me, patterns be patterning. Most appearances from the adjacents or paparazzi shots seem to be around the middle of the month.

A few days later on 21st March, Luke is spotted at his friend Young Blud’s Concert. A fan releases a photo of a furious looking Luke, with Antonia seemingly walking towards him. I have heard from sources a few things about what happened that night, but I cannot share those here. I can confirm that Antonia left the event after Young Blud’s set of four songs and Luke did not. It is interesting to note that the next day, Nicola was seen in the same area of Kensington where Luke was solo papped having a photo with a fan in a juice bar four minutes away from where Luke was papped.

Fast forward to this weekend, yes that right Saturday 19th April and we get a photo of Luke posing in Cyprus with the owner of the restaurant of where Antonia’s father is a chef. There is a lot of speculation about what might be going on here and analysing Luke’s face and clothes etc. Whether recent or not, Antonia is still NOT in the photo. She is still not allowed to post him. She is back to her old tricks of implying she is with him. Yesterday, she posted a selfie with a friend at the same restaurant where Luke was photographed on Saturday. Luke’s photo was shared by the restaurant, and he was tagged in it, as well as Bridgerton UK. How odd that the restaurant where Antonia’s father works at shares a publicity photo of Luke and tags Bridgerton as well? Not suspicious at all. Luke does not accept the tag. Then Antonia goes on a posting spree of random shit. But still no Lukey. How pathetic after over a year, you can’t publicly post your ‘boyfriend’. You push Luke and he pushes back harder. I do not think Luke’s PR team was involved with this as the post is still up and the comments towards Luke are not favourable. It’s all messy and weird and becoming an increasing headache. I also think Antonia’s parents have huge involvement here. They have gotten their pound of flesh out of Luke and for Luke’s sake, I sincerely hope he’s run for the hills and back to the cliffs of Dover.

Whenever I write a blog post, shit tends to hit the fan. I might very well be tempting fate here. There is a pre-Bafta party tonight in London that Luke and Nicola are expected to attend. I am bracing myself for what we will see. I hope it is another SAGS love fest and we will all be rejoicing, as Nic and Luke deserve it. Dragging along adjacents would be a stupid thing to do. I have been criticised again for insisting so strongly that Jake is gay. It is my opinion, but I am simply warning the Jakola’s because the press is coming up for What it feels like for a girl and it is already known to be an all queer cast. I have noted with some wry amusement, whereas previously the Jakolas insisted Jake was straight, now they are saying he is bisexual, and they are holding onto this for dear life. He could be, I do not know Jake. But from looking at his Instagram, I just don’t think he is. But I do agree, it is for Jake to tell us his truth and I’m sure that he will in the next few weeks.

My question is why is Luke so obsessed with keeping his Mrs Rochester a secret? What is Luke hiding in the attic? What is worth all this trouble? Is he protecting his Jane Eyre? We have seen Luke happy and this isn’t it. Granted it is only snapshots in time, but those snaps tell a story.

‘The night - its silence - its rest, was rent in twain by a savage, a sharp, a Shirley sound that ran from end to end of Thornfield Hall.'" Description of Bertha, Jane Eyre.

PS. I did not call into work sick the other day because someone made a nasty comment on YT btw, I was upset going to work and had to calm myself down before going in. I am only human.

PPS. I can see that Jake is getting ready for an event now. I can feel a headache coming already.

[csprint]

ATEEZ AS FRAT GUYS

Ot8 x F. Reader Content warning: Sexual language

kookinglikeachef: Was originally writing this for “The Sex Lives of College Guys” ff but I don’t think I’ll be doing it anymore because of internal doubts🥲

Hongjoong:

Obviously the fraternity president

He runs shit in and out of the frat house

Takes gender and theory studies courses

And bagged a lot of partnerships with local businesses for fundraising

He had to convince the dean many times not to expel certain members

*Cough* SanGi *cough*

He can be a bit of a snob and a little uptight

Sets strict drinking limits and instruct that the house is intact the next morning

20 minutes in and he’s convincing everyone to climb the chimney

Can usually handle his alcohol but when he gets piss drunk

He’s Debby Ryan-ing at every girl that talks to him

Seonghwa:

Alpha nerd

He only cares about his LEGOs and turning his assignments in on time

Locks himself in his room when there’s a party

Because he just got his new Star Wars set

Eventually joins halfway through

Only to judge everyones never have I ever scandals

But they won’t ever get one out of him

“Never have I ever been to a sex party”

Please he HOSTED and ORGANIZED

Laughing in his head cause not a single soul will ever know about it

Not even his members

And if you’re wondering how no one will find out?!

Well he’s got a fallback plan that proves he was at his fraternity in his room

During said day and said times

BUILDING HIS DAMN LEGOS

He’s also the one that take care of his brothers after a huge party

Probably the only reason the entire house hasn’t gone to shit tbh

Yunho:

The one with the girlfriend

They’ve been together since the second year of high school

And got into the same college

Still going four years strong

He’s majoring in computer engineering

So his servers are not the only thing that can sustain a long uptime *wink, wink*

His hobbies are taking photos of his girlfriend

Or trying any and every kink in the book with her

MULTIPLE PREGNANCY SCARES

Beer pong king

If anyone tries to hit on him he will not let them finish a sentence without making it clear he’s taken

Doesn’t mean that he dislikes getting attention from people that aren’t his girlfriend, though

Sometimes he’d flirt back

Says it’s not cheating if nothing physical happens

Definitely disregards his girlfriend’s feelings about it

He can be a jerk sometimes

Yeosang:

1stly

He don’t wanna be here

He don’t even know how he got into a frat in the first place

Yet he unexpectedly fit in well

Truthfully, he’s the one that’s attracting all the ladies to the frat house

Like roaches

The sorority girls LOVE him

And I mean they want him so bad

As a sister AND to get eaten out by him

Even though he only ever hooked up with one girl

She spread the news like jelly on bread and he’s suddenly that Pod the Rod type (game of thrones lmao)

Pretends to not understand why girls are in love with him

When his members ask him about it,

“I don’t know her” he’ll shrug

It’s always the quiet ones

San:

He’s definitely a legacy

Comes from generations of mischief

I solemnly swear that he’s up to no good

Also comes from money but doesn’t like to brag about it

He’s getting a Bachelor of Arts degree

And is a strip poker enthusiast

Never has a shirt on

He fucks every other week but not-so-secretly just wants to fuck his best friend

Bro bonding time is his favorite time

He loves to talk feelings and makes sure his members are okay

And actually enjoys the charity events

Even volunteers as the mascot

And daydreams about what it would be like to fuck his best friend in it

He and Wooyoung are infamous for their coma-inducing

“Frat punch”

The recipe is only known to them

But anyone who attends their parties are deeply warned about it

He forces people to listen to his drunk rants about how much he’s in love with his best friend of 12 years

Then blacks out under the table hugging a bottle with her picture taped to it

It’s not creepy

He’s just down bad

Still shows up early to morning lectures in blacked out sunglasses

And gets scolded by his best friend

Then he remembers when he told someone that he’s in love with his best friend

Thinks it may have been her

Mingi:

Mingki is the shy one

Or at least that’s what he wants people to believe

No guy on campus likes bringing their girl around him because

HE. WILL. TAKE. THEIR. BITCH.

And he doesn’t even mean to

But he’s ultimately sweet and will never turn down sex

He sleeps around a lot as well as sleeping through classes

Missed and failed his exams

So his grades aren’t as hot as him

Gets told a lot that if he really applied himself

He’d be a great business major

But he doesn’t really gaf

Everyone thinks he’s failing

But he passes with flying colors

Did I mention that he fucked the dean’s wife because she promised to convince her husband not to expel him?

Wooyoung:

Everyone on campus knows about this mother fucker right here

Friends with literally everybody

He majors in history

And is THE life of the party

If he’s not there it’ll be lame af

Good thing he never misses one, though

And still manages to keep up clean grades

He gets invited to other fraternity parties

Thinks he’s going to die at every party

Genuinely believes that the hash slinging slasher is out to get him

That’s just a result of the “Frat Punch”

He does not do relationships

Only has friends with benefits and brags about his favorite ones

He’ll still invite them to hangout with his members

Even after being balls deep in them like five minutes ago

Jongho:

Will deny being in a frat unless you show up outside his door to prove it

Only joined because he heard the rooms are bigger

He does EVERYTHING

From theater to sports to board games with elderly residents

So you know he’s pulling the theater kids and athletes and a classmates auntie

He majors in one of two subjects

Computer Science or Architecture

You see what he does to those apples and watermelons?!

Those hands are God-given

Ask the swim team

At parties, he’s in charge of the playlists

And he sneaks some Wicked in there when everyone’s too drunk to notice

He’s banned from ordering kegs because he kept ordering wine instead

Beats everyone’s ass at pool

Wooyoung likes to hustle people into placing bets on him but he’d just give the money to any charity the sorority might have