#into a world with others like him. He and Ser actually become close instead of distant enemies

[deva-arts]

Drawing them younger made me think a bit too hard about our doomed sibling duo so have a very rushed doodle

Our nameless project has given up. Sera hasn't gotten the picture though!

He's got a family whether he likes it or not

...

In this AU that is.

In truth he and Sera would grow up separately. Sera has no idea who he is and her existence is burned in his memory as the bane to his. When they meet, Sera is too jaded to genuinely help him and he's too far gone to accept it. Their first meeting was also a nail in the coffin.

[lazuli-writes]

What if Jon Snow didn’t join the nights watch?

summary: So Jon doesn’t join the watch and instead saves Bran and Rickon.

pairing: none

genre: rabbit hole rambles

estimated word count: 3900 words

a/n: Another old reupload, hope y’all enjoy. Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

Y’all omgs I’m back. It has been a long while since I did something like this so I’m happy I actually had the time and mindset to do this. Continuing on with Asoiaf What if, I bring you What if Jon didn’t join the nights watch?

So my point of divergence is sometime in or around chapter 19 of Book 1 of A Game Of Thrones. Jon finds the wall an unforgiving place and home of many horrible peoples from across the realm of Westeros. Feeling disgusted and abandoned, Jon makes the conscious decision to head south. His leave happens after Tyrion so no more Tyrion and Jon time. However Jon is very grateful for Tyrion’s words on the true status and well being of the wall. Ashamed of his inability and lack of drive to handle the wall, Jon decides to not go back to Winterfell (also because he’s under the impression Catelyn is still there) for the time being and instead travel the North.

He spends a day at Mole’s Town before heading south. On his journey south he saves a family of farmers from Wildlings (Osha, Stiv and Wallen). He maims Wallen and disarms Stiv. With the aid of Ghost growling, the three flee. The family he saves grants him a place to stay and supplies before he’s off again. When he reaches the Long Lake, he stargazes with Ghost. It is that night that he wargs for the first time and becomes quite unsettled at the prospect once he realizes what it was, refusing to believe it to be magic but rather just coincidental dreams.

He and Ghost fish in the Long Lake for multiple nights on their journey southward. They continue on until taking refuge from a storm at the Tumbledown Tower. The vault that exists within the tower, along with a working fire provides warmth for Jon during the nights that are growing colder. He has more conversations with Ghost, treating the direwolf as his de facto therapist that can’t talk back. Jon decides to stall his time at the tower versus risking a journey south at the moment. He decides to use the Tower as his new home. He and Ghost hunt for food in and around the nearby Wolfswood.

By this time Robb has already begun his march South. Jon remains in the Tumbledown tower for a while. He takes notice of the stars once more and the nature surrounding him. He reflects on his life and how the world works. Ghost becomes a great companion for Jon throughout this almost peaceful journey in the Northern wilderness. After a few more weeks, Jon makes the decision to head south. He knows he probably should fear Lady Catelyn’s wrath, but knows Robb would be okay with him. It takes him another week or two to finally reach the outer lands of Winterfell. When he arrives, he is welcomed by Ser Rodrik, Luwin, Bran and Rickon. At first Rodrik is angry because he thinks Jon deserted, but all is negated when Jon reveals that he didn't take his oaths.

Jon has supper with his brothers as they fill him in on the news of what’s been happening. Jon is devastated with the news of Ned’s death and Jon is almost tempted to head south to join Robb to get revenge, however, Bran pleads with Jon to stay in Winterfell with them. Jon can’t refuse them because he can’t bare to have them suffer anymore than they already have. Jon is present with Bran and Luwin when the Walders arrive in Winterfell and immediately takes a strong dislike to them. Jon tries to stand by Tyrion’s words by wearing his bastardness like honor but instead just chooses to avoid them.

Jon becomes a close confidante and voice of reason for Bran when many nobles from the North come for the Harvest Feast. Jon is there to insult the Frey’s when they insult Hodor. Jon is not present for Bran’s meeting with Lord Wyman Manderly but is there the next day when Donella Hornwood talks of her worries. Jon suggests Donella return to White Harbor with her cousin Wyman for the time being for her own protection and for her time of grief. Donella is worried Wyman will pressure her into marrying a suitor of his choosing but Bran makes it clear Wyman will do no such thing, that’s an order. Donella is pleased with Bran and Jon’s words. Jon is there to shield Bran’s eyes from a naked Osha in the Godswood who teases the two boys. The next day, Jon is busy watching over Rickon whilst Bran meets with the Umbers. Jon argues with the Frey’s again after they mock him for being a bastard. They are interrupted by Leobald Tallhart who defends Jon. Leo tells Jon to never let one’s word dictate the way he fights, a lesson Jon takes in. Later, with Cley Cerwyn’s arrival, Jon is shocked at Stannis’ revelation that Joffrey is ill born.

Jon is present during the feast, sitting to the right of Rickon. Jon at first is uncomfortable for he never sat at the high table before but Bran had forced him to do so. Jon agrees with Bran about not letting the Frey’s sit on the high table but are refuted by Luwin. Jon sits throughout the feast contemplating whether or not he should go south again. He meets Meera and Jojen Reed when they arrive and he stays to watch the many people dance at the feast for a bit before heading to bed. Some time later, news of Lady Hornwood’s murder reaches Winterfell. Winterfell learns that while Donella and Wyman marched to Hornwood before their eventual return to White Harbor, Ramsay Snow had attacked the group. Lady Hornwood was almost kidnapped but was instead mortally wounded. In retaliation, the Manderly’s and Hornwood men chased the Bolton men away and have occupied Hornwood.

Jon at first intends to head with Ser Rodrik but Rodrik refuses Jon’s pleas and instead has him stay in Winterfell to watch over the boys. Though disappointed, Jon agrees. He has a light spar with Meera Reed in the Godswood, and is in awe with her ability with her Frog Spear. Jon comments he would have won if she didn’t have her net, and she jokes that she’s happy that she did have it then. Later when Ser Rodrik returns, Jon is repulsed at “reek” , the prisoner Ser Rodrik brought back to Winterfell. Rodrik also reveals he didn’t have enough power or energy to halt the hostilities of the Manderlys and Boltons at Hornwood. At this time Bran also tries to warn Jon of the ocean coming to Winterfell. Jon tries to calm Bran’s worries but Bran remains adamant. And with the news of raiders attacking the Stony Shore, Jon remains unsettled.

A couple nights later, news of raids at Torrhen Square prompts Ser Rodrik to head west with a majority of Winterfell’s men. Jon remains behind in Winterfell and is awake one night training late in the evening when Meera passes by. The two talk of Bran and Jojen. Meera admits to Jon of Jojen’s visions and how she knows deep down something bad is to happen and very soon. This feeling comes into fruition that night when Jon and Meera are walking back into the main keep when they hear a commotion. Witnessing men butcher Alebelly. This is enough for the two to get moving, Meera gets Jojen while Jon races inside to get his brothers. He runs into Osha who he warns of the coming attackers. Osha goes to get Rickon and hides with Meera and Jojen in the Crypts. Jon, who goes to get Bran, struggles to get the boy out of the room in time and the two are soon captured. Theon is surprised to see Jon. He has Bran taken hostage while Jon is beaten by the Ironborn for not knowing where Rickon is and for resisting. Jon is then put into the dungeons.

During his time imprisoned, Jon is put into a cell next to “Reek” and the two converse. After hearing “Reek” speak of torture, flaying and the “Moose Bitch” and her “Walrus of a cousin” Messing up his plans, Jon realizes that “Reek” is actually Ramsay Snow. Ramsay promises to destroy Winterfell and the Starks. In response, Jon promises that Ramsay’s head will decorate the walls of Winterfell. Jon endures Ramsay’s verbal abuse and psychological torture for a few days and nights until Theon comes storming into the dungeons and demands to know where Bran is. Jon is genuinely clueless but he is again beaten, this time by Theon himself. Theon claims that Bran and the direwolves have gone missing along with Rickon and the Reed siblings. However Jon punches him back, so Jon again knocked down and left injured in the cell. Ramsay offers a solution for Theon which prompts Theon to free him. Later on Jon and Luwin are forced to look at the dead corpses of the two Miller boys, both men under the impression Theon killed Rickon and Bran.

Later Jon sees Osha working in the castle and believes she’s betrayed Rickon and tries to kill her but is beaten again by Ironborn. Later Theon sends “Reek” to gather reinforcements when he hears the news of Rodrik forming a force to take back Winterfell. Jon learns of this after Ramsay gloats on finally being given the opportunity to complete his dreams of ending the Starks. Asha berates Theon and leaves. Theon is too busy trying to hold on to Winterfell, Asha is busy in Deepwood Motte and Dagmer has lost at Torrhen Square and has been chased back to Stony shore. All the while Jon sits alone shivering in the cold dungeons of Winterfell. Later on, Jon and Beth Cassel are taken up in the walls of Winterfell as hostages to negate Rodrik from attacking. However Jon notices that Theon’s forces have dwindled significantly. And when he is given the chance, he pushes Theon off and screams out to Rodrik of Ramsay Snow still being alive as Reek and that he’s coming with reinforcements for Theon. Jon is soon beaten once again and almost hung by Theon before he and Beth are both thrown into a cell.

Beth tends to Jon's injuries. Jon struggles to walk but tells Beth they need to escape as soon as possible. They are interrupted by their Ironborn guard being killed and them being freed by Osha. She leads them down to the crypts where the two are reunited with the rest of the “missing peoples.” Jon tells Osha of the waiting army and that around fifteen men remain as the only Ironborn. Jon tells her that they can help Rodrik by doing some damage to the Ironborn from inside. Osha doesn’t like the idea, but Jon tells him she won’t be alone. Osha, Jon, Meera and the three direwolves emerge from the crypts at dusk when they hear the sounds of fighting outside the gates. Jon notices the gates to be closed so deduces the fighting to be amongst the Northmen forces outside. Together the group begin jumping and killing the Ironborn. Jon goes around alerting the Winterfell folk to prepare to go into hiding or to aid in the retaking of Winterfell. Meera kills a man with her Frog spear. Osha kills two men with a spear. Osha helps Jon in killing Wex Pyke and Kromm. The three direwolves work together in tearing four men to pieces. Hayhead and Barth are just some of the Winterfell men who come to Jon’s aid in retaking Winterfell.

Soon enough Theon, who has been sleeping in Eddard Stark’s room, is taken captive by Hayhead and another guard. He is thrown into a cell while Jon only walks away in disgust. Jon and Meera get to the top of the walls to see Ser Rodrik’s force defeat Ramsay Snow’s men and rout them, but at a cost. When Osha returns from the Crypts with Bran, Rickon, Jojen, Beth and Hodor, Jon aids in opening the gates to find a battered force of Stark loyalists. Ser Rodrik succumbs to his injuries with Beth crying on his side. Jon proclaims a Stark victory at a sad cost.

By this point this is the end of A Clash of Kings. And this does provide a few different outcomes to come for the future play out of the books which I will get into shortly. But with Winterfell in Stark hands, Roose is less inclined to betray the Starks because even if he killed Robb, the Stark loyalists would rally to whichever Stark remained in Winterfell. Robb still marries Jeyne Westerling, Catelyn still frees Jaime, and Sansa doesn’t become the key to the North. Anyways let’s continue.

I imagine Winterfell’s story of A Storm of Swords starting off with Jon being a part of Bran’s inner circle alongside Maester Luwin. Cley Cerwyn becomes a frequent presence and becomes a good friend of Jon and Bran. The trio remains conflicted on what to do next. The Ironborn have the Moat, Deepwood Motte and roam the Stony Shore. Ramsay Snow remains at the Dreadfort and has continued a raiding campaign against the Manderlys in the Hornwood lands. Jon suggest having the Manderlys press forward on the Dreadfort, and to have Leobald Tallhart take back the western lands of the North. But Luwin remains indecisive of which enemy should they should fight first. Jon suggests calling upon more men but Luwin explains that the North is near exhaustion. Instead, Luwin suggests having the people focus on getting the harvest and preparing for Winter.

Jon refuses to stand by and do nothing as monsters terrorize his home. Jon asks about the ravens Luwin had sent weeks ago, right after the retaking of Winterfell, and he responds that he had no response from Robb or Catelyn. Jon is frustrated cause he knows not what to do. Winterfell soon receives a raven from the Wall detailing the need for aid, for an army of Wildlings are marching south. Jon then debates with Luwin before finally convincing him to head North to aid the Night’s Watch. Bran also orders that Wyman Manderly and Leobald Tallhart move forward with their campaigns against Ramsay and the Ironborn respectively.

During his time in the crypts Bran makes the decision to follow his dreams and learn to fly. He intends to head north with the Reed siblings to find the Three Eyed Crow. He makes his intentions clear to Jon who is angered at his words and goes to Luwin with the news. Bran is then confined to his room. All the while Jon, prepares to head North. Jon is joined by Cley Cerwyn and a force of two hundred men. Jon leaves after saying his goodbyes to the boys and Luwin and is joined by Ghost. Unknowing to him Bran, Meera, Summer, Hodor and Jojen follow the army up north (for a time before heading in their own). Jon and Cley discuss the Night’s Watch and Jon reveals the harsh truths of the Wall and how it actually is. Cley wonders if two hundred will be enough, Jon says no which is why he’s going to get reinforcements along the way. After weeks of marching, resting, training and marching, Jon departs from Cley who he instructs to continue to Last Hearth to gain the favor and aid of House Umber.

Jon along with Ghost and ten men traverse the Northern mountains. There he encounters numerous clans: Liddles, Harclays, Wulls, Flints, Norreys, Burleys and Knotts. He gains the respect of the Flints and the Norrey through his devotion to protect the North from the monsters beyond the wall that would seek to bring death and despair. But much of the other clans are skeptical and unmoved by Jon’s intentions. So instead he makes the decision to prove his worth to the other clans. The Flints and Norreys agree to back Jon in his plans. So together, Jon, Ghost, his men, and almost four hundred Northern clansmen march west to the Bay of Ice. Their sights set on retaking Deepwood Motte. Jon knows the odds of taking Deepwood is scarecrow considering the Ironborn had the numbers and the chance to settle in. So Jon instead focuses first on setting the Ironborn long ships aflame. Jon along with a hundred men storm the nearby beaches from the North and begin torching the boats, killing any Ironborn in their way.

Jon then leads his men around to the south end of the castle, using the Wolfswood to hide their presence. The burning of the ships causes a huge commotion, prompting the drawbridge to be lowered and for much of the Ironborn strength to come out to inspect the situation and try to fight off any north men. Jon waits until night time, with the drawbridge still down and the Ironborn coming and going, Jon alongside side ghost and the Flints and Norreys, quickly storm the castle. The Ironborn caught off guard are surprised by the attack. The darkness of nights aids to the Northerns advantage. Quickly storming the Bailey, with his force cramped within the Bailey, Jon orders the drawbridge be lifted to prevent Ironborn reinforcements from coming back in.

The fight lasts throughout the night. Jon fights in a smithy where he throws hot ash and coals into three Ironborn men try to over power him. In another tussle, Jon kills a man by using his sword to slice the mans jaw off his face. The Bailey is eventually secured and Jon joins the charge up to the Motte. The motte is stormed and the keep soon falls. Jon soon finds the captives of Lady Sybelle Glover, her children, Lawrence Snow and the dying steward. Jon wonders where the Ironborn leader is, which Lady Glover reveals that Asha Greyjoy has left to check the ships and hadn’t returned. Jon states she won’t and declares the Motte free and reclaimed for the North. A brief funeral is held for the northerns who died in the fight and during the occupation, including the steward. Jon asks Lady Glover to head to Winterfell for her safety, for they have not the men to hold the Motte. She initially denies doing so because she deems the Wolfswood to unsafe for her retinue to March through. Without their ships to flee on, the leftover Ironborn still linger in the Wolfswood.

Instead Lady Glover and her remaining household and people travel north with Jon’s forces to stay at Breakstone Hill, an abandoned fortress used by the northern clansmen as a meeting place. There they’ll intend to stay until the motte is safe again. And so Jon, Lady Glover’s retinue and the Clansman abandon the Motte and head north. Their arrival and the news of Jon’s courage and devotion to the north is admirable enough for the other Clans to join’s Jon’s cause. Garnering around three thousand men to his name, Jon marches for the wall. The leaders of the Clans help Jon traverse the Northern mountains to where the come up to the south western edge of Queenscrown lake. Together, Jon’s host of three thousand march east for the King’s road. They are soon joined by another thirteen hundred men, Cley Cerwyn and Mors Umber. Together, the host of four thousand and three hundred men march up the Kings road.

The host reaches Castle Black which has been occupied by the wildlings, with its gate wide open, Jon realizes he is too late and soon confers with his men. The host decides to camp at Moles town. The leaders see giants, mammoths and thenns, all of which send shivers and shock into their systems. Mors and the Clansmen wish to charge the oncoming wildlings. Cley however says they should parley because they know not the numbers. Jon wishes to parley much to Mors’ dismay but agrees to the act. Jon rides forward under a white banner proclaiming his intentions and wish for a parley, while holding out bread and salt. Jon, Cley Cerwyn, Mors Umber and some clansmen meets with Mance Rayder, Tormund Giantsbane, Harma Dogshead, Varamyr, Rattleshirt and Mag the Mighty. After bread and salt have been taken by both parties, the two sides exchange verbal blows. Jon learns of the Wildlings’ intentions and that the Night’s watch isn’t all dead, the survivors have taken to hiding underground licking their wounds. Mors and the Clansmen refuse to allow the Wildlings safety South of the wall. The wildlings make it known that the others are coming. Mance points out that the free folk were content in their free life beyond the wall. Only a problem as big as the others would be enough to unite the hundreds of warring tribes and clans of free folk with a common cause to seek shelter behind the wall. But Jon makes it clear that if they were going to live within Robb’s realm then they must abide by his laws and bend the knee. Jon later asks for the lives of the remaining nights watch to be spared. The terms are set and Jon returns to his camp.

Jon’s group are conflicted, the Clansmen frustrated for they believe that the coming winter will brings demons but have a history they struggle to ignore. Mors Umbers is infuriated and refuses to entertain the idea of the wildlings. When Cley asks if he’s willing to sacrifice the survival of his house for the possibility of ignoring the fact that the others are coming south, Mors falters in his anger. Cley suggest granting them the lands of the Gift to inhabit versus allowing them into the lands of the North. But Jon points out that permission would fall into the hands of the Night’s watch. If the wildlings wanted to live in the Gift, the New Gift or inhabit the empty castles of the wall, the wildlings would need the permission of the Night’s watch. Mors agree, but makes it clear that no Wildling would be welcome on Umber lands, for the enmity between his people and the wildlings is too much. Cley sides with Jon. The clansmen are willing but are still overly cautious.

The next day, another parley is held and when Jon meets with the Wildling leaders. Two groups immediately decide to join Jon. Mag the Mighty, de facto head of the Giants and Sigorn of the Thenns, the respective leaders of their group speak the old tongue to Jon. Mance Rayder aids in the translation for the two groups. The Giants and the Thenns will not kneel, they will not bend the knee. But if following the laws of the south will allow them the protection behind the wall, then they follow them to the best of their ability. Jon accepts the partial oaths of fealty on behalf of Robb. Jon also makes it clear that if they are to live as people of the Kingdom of the North, at some point in time they will be obligated to protect the new lands they call home, from enemies, both north and south of the wall. And that one day they’ll have to come and meet the King in Winterfell. After a tense moment of thought amongst themselves, the two groups agree. The Thenns and the Giants make it clear they’ll stand by Snow. Together, the two groups begin marching south to Jon’s side— and that’s where I’m gonna end it cause I feel like I rambled and bothered y’all long enough. Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed and please don’t be afraid to send an ask or comment your thoughts.

[a-secret-bolton-vampire]

Daenerys Stormborn, Part 2: Wake the Dragon

Oh hey, I have part 2 already! Guess my brain is really focused on Dany now. In part 1, I talked about Dany's arcs from AGOT to ASOS, exploring the narrative and thematic purpose of her journey. However, the most important part of her journey occurs in ADWD, and sets the stage for some incredibly exciting developments to come in TWOW. For part 2, I'll be talking about the gradual transformation of Daenerys into a slightly different, darker character for the future.

Breaker of Chains & Mhysa

Slavery has been an important background element throughout Dany's time in Essos, even in AGOT, but it becomes front and centre in ASOS. She accepted the Dothraki, a society that uses slaves for many things, and wasn't too perturbed at the use of slaves in Qarth. However, it is in Astapor where she finally realizes just how bad the institution is, as she tells Xaro:

"Whence came this madness? Should I count myself fortunate that you did not free my own slaves when you were my guest in Qarth?" I was a beggar queen and you were Xaro of the Thirteen, Dany thought, and all you wanted were my dragons. "Your slaves seemed well treated and content. It was not till Astapor that my eyes were opened."

As mentioned last time, ASOS is when she begins to take control of her destiny, and she does so by beginning a revolution to free the slaves of Slaver's Bay. She believe she has a greater destiny lying ahead of her, that there is a reason for her dragons, the red comet. She also has great empathy for people and sees this disturbing injustice being played out with nobody to stop it. But she has the power to do so, and thus she begins by going fire and blood at Astapor, killing the Good Masters and freeing all the slaves. Afterwards, she leaves the city with a ruling council of a priest, a scholar, and a healer and moves to Yunkai.

She does a different approach with Yunkai, negotiating with the Wise Masters to surrender their slaves and to leave them in peace. And then when she arrives at Meereen, she decides to stay and rule as its queen. This is where things begin to get difficult for Daenerys. The ruling council of Astapor is overthrown by a butcher named Cleon, who said the council was conspiring to bring back slavery, who declares himself King of Astapor, enslaves the children of the former Good Masters to make new Unsullied, and tries to ally with Daenerys against Yunkai, who has resumed slavery.

Daenerys is not interested in any war with Yunkai. The reason she stays in Meereen is exactly because she learned what happened when she left Astapor. The fire and blood approach didn't work. You can't just dismantle such a deeply engrained system so easily. So instead she opts to rule, and protect the people she can. While a lot of readers view Dany's actions in Meereen as pointless, the whims of a naive girl, and poor leadership, I actually think it's the opposite.

For starters, Dany realized that she can't simply burn the slavers to end slavery, but she needs to stay and instill changes. While King Cleon repeatedly begs for Daenerys to join the war against Yunkai, she refuses, and warns Cleon to not do such a thing. She turns out to be horribly right, as Cleon is killed, Astapor is sieged, before being slaughtered, burned, and sacked, to be reinstated as a slave city once more. Likewise, the Yunkish siege Meereen, first by creating a blockade in the bay with ships, and then by having armies amassed outside the city walls.

In addition, refugees from Astapor begin to pile up outside the city, and a deadly plague called the pale mare (for the horse from Astapor that arrives at Meereen) begins to sweep the starving Astapori freedmen, who begin to resort to cannibalism to survive. Dany blames herself for leaving Astapor a mess, but does not wish to have the same thing happen in Meereen. She wants to protect the people she's freed, not just from the Yunkish, but herself as well.

When a sheepherder brings the burned bones of his daughter, Hazzea, who was killed by her dragons, Dany has Rhaegal and Viserion chained in the dungeons below the Great Pyramid to prevent them from causing any more harm. However, Drogon is still loose, unable to be found. In addition, when the sons of the harpy, a terrorist group opposed to the emancipation of Meereen, begin massacring freedmen, Dany decides to raise a tax on the Great Masters and have all families of suspect loyalty send a child to serve as a hostage and cupbearers. Yet, as the killings continue, she has grown close to the children and decides not to have them killed.

Now, some of you may notice that I am taking a lot from the Meereenese Blot essays written by Adam Feldman. That's not only because they are really well written essays, but ones that GRRM himself has approved of.

"I read those when someone pointed them out to me, and I was really pleased with them, because at least one guy got it. He got it completely, he knew exactly what I was trying to do there, and evidently I did it well enough for people who were paying attention."

So I am retreading some of the ground Feldman has laid, but it's important to do so if I am to build up to what I think is going to happen in the future of Dany's story.

As Feldman notes, Dany's own actions (or in the case of the cupbearers, inaction) actually made a peace possible, because the Yunkish saw that she was someone who is capable of mercy and not a (in their eye) violent mass murderer. Knowing what happened with Astapor, and seeing what happens when her dragons are unleashed with Hazzea, Dany decides to make peace with the Yunkish and marry Hizdahr.

Under the peace, Meereen itself would remain a free city, but the Yunkish would continue to sell slaves. They even sell them in markets outside the walls of Meereen, which displeases Daenerys extremely. In addition, slaveowners could bring their slaves into Meereen without fear of them being freed, and the Yunkish promised to respect the rights of the freedmen in Meereen. Yet, despite the peace and the progress made, she feels as though this is a defeat.

This is peace, she told herself. This is what I wanted, what I worked for, this is why I married Hizdahr. So why does it taste so much like defeat?

The thing is, Daenerys has had to sacrifice so much of herself and her morals to get to this point. Yes there is peace, even if it is tentative, Meereen would not be sacked by the Yunkish, but slavery is still going on, and she thinks that she has let herself and other people down by agreeing to peace and allowing the Yunkish to continue slavery. She has agreed to peace to people she loathes and thinks are despicable, she has married a man she does not love and does not love her, she has chained her dragons in the pit below, she has allowed the fighting pits to reopen. This comes to ahead at Daznak's Pit when she is at the height of her discomfort.

The boar buried his snout in Barsena's belly and began rooting out her entrails. The smell was more than the queen could stand. The heat, the flies, the shouts from the crowd … I cannot breathe. She lifted her veil and let it flutter away. She took her tokar off as well. The pearls rattled softly against one another as she unwound the silk.

And then Drogon arrives, and in the chaos of him attacking the boar and being attacked by the soldiers in the pit, Dany tries to calm him, but he spits fire at her, and she tries to tame him by whipping him into submission. Here, Dany is quite literally fighting herself. She herself in this moment represents the Queen of Meereen, someone who desires for peace. Meanwhile, Drogon represents the dragon inside her, who wants to unleash blood and fire on her enemies. In the end, Dany climbs onto Drogon and they fly away together, which foreshadows and symbolizes Dany's later decision to choose being the dragon.

Despite her frustrations in Meereen, the peace was a good first step. Not to say that it solved every issue, it didn't, but that doesn't need to be the end of it. Daenerys could forge new peaces, new agreements, and if she stayed in Meereen, she could implement great changes throughout Slaver's Bay. But what is done is done, and cannot be undone. The peace that was forged is now gone. Next comes war.

The House with the Red Door

Before we move on to Dany's final chapter and what that means for the future, we must take a look at a very important part of her backstory which is one of the main elements of her own story. Sure, destiny, greatness, prophecy, power, and identity are themes with Daenerys, but at the center of it all is the desire for home. Dany was born on Dragonstone, but was whisked away to Braavos, and there she lived in the house with the red door, with Viserys, Ser Willem Darry, and their servants.

To Dany, the house with the red door was the only place in her life she called home, and she has very fond memories of it, of Willem, or the lemon tree. But after Willem died, they were kicked out and forced to become beggars on the streets, selling off their possessions and travelling the Free Cities. The red door was closed and gone forever after, but the dream of having a home hasn't.

Daenerys has a desire for home, for love, for family. Throughout her childhood, Viserys would tell Dany all about Westeros, how they need to take back the Iron Throne, that the Seven Kingdoms were the most beautiful lands in the world. And sure enough, soon, Westeros represents the idea for home and belonging to Dany.

"I pray for home too," she told him, believing it. Ser Jorah laughed. "Look around you then, Khaleesi." But it was not the plains Dany saw then. It was King's Landing and the great Red Keep that Aegon the Conqueror had built. It was Dragonstone where she had been born. In her mind's eye they burned with a thousand lights, a fire blazing in every window. In her mind's eye, all the doors were red.

Although she takes on the mantle as the new head of House Targaryen and carries on Viserys's dream of taking back the Iron Throne out of a sense of duty, she also does so for desire to belong in a place she can call home. It's a nostalgic feeling she gets of the old days, that she wants to relive again.

But then other ambitions get in her way. She frees the slaves of Slaver's Bay, and decides to stay in Meereen to try to ensure that her revolution succeeds. Thus, her quest for home is put on hold. Throughout ADWD, she gives up parts of herself, to try to become one with the Meereenese; marrying Hizdahr, reopening the fighting pits, chaining her dragons, dressing in the Ghiscari fashion, and making peace. But in the Dothraki sea, hundreds of miles outside Meereen, she finds that she wasn't being her true self, that she can never be the Queen of Meereen, or become a true Meereenese.

I must keep walking. Water flows downhill. The stream will take me to the river, and the river will take me home. Except it wouldn't, not truly. Meereen was not her home, and never would be. It was a city of strange men with strange gods and stranger hair, of slavers wrapped in fringed tokars, where grace was earned through whoring, butchery was art, and dog was a delicacy. Meereen would always be the Harpy's city, and Daenerys could not be a harpy.

The series is all about the human heart in conflict with itself, and Daenerys in ADWD is one of the best examples of that. She was struggling with her two competing titles of Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons, but in the end she was not comfortable with being the Breaker of Chains. This final transformation she undergoes in the Dothraki sea really sets the tone for what she will do in the future, and how she will change as a person and character.

Mother of Dragons

Daenerys X is one of the more bizarre chapters in the series, since it follows only one character alone with her thoughts, but it works extremely well as a character study, and the development over the course of the chapter is one of my favourites in the whole series. Through all the hallucinations and visions and dreams Daenerys has during this chapter, it's important to remember that they all (apart from possibly Quaithe) are her, so the discussions she has are with her own internal thoughts directly.

The topic of Targaryen madness reoccurs throughout the series, but it's ADWD where it is brought up the most. Now, the topic of Targaryen madness will be another post i will do in the far future and won't discuss in depth today, but the matter is that Dany is aware of some of it, even if she hasn't fully accepted the truth of her father. She fears that she is succumbing to the madness at points.

"Your Grace?" Missandei stood in the door of the queen's bedchamber, a lantern in her hand. "Who are you talking to?" Dany glanced back toward the persimmon tree. There was no woman there. No hooded robe, no lacquer mask, no Quaithe. A shadow. A memory. No one. She was the blood of the dragon, but Ser Barristan had warned her that in that blood there was a taint. Could I be going mad? They had called her father mad, once.

Later, she implies this fear again to Barristan.

I lived in fear for fourteen years, my lord. I woke afraid each morning and went to sleep afraid each night … but my fears were burned away the day I came forth from the fire. Only one thing frightens me now." "And what is it that you fear, sweet queen?" "I am only a foolish young girl." Dany rose on her toes and kissed his cheek. "But not so foolish as to tell you that. My men shall look at these ships. Then you shall have my answer."

But in an early version of Daenerys III, the answer Daenerys gave was "myself". She fears what would happen if she "woke the dragon", as Viserys put it. She's afraid of succumbing to the madness that consumed her father and probably was consuming Viserys. She's afraid of what would happen if she unleashed her dragons, how many innocents they would kill. But in the Dothraki sea, she begins to question her decisions, starting when she woke up after finding blood between her thighs:

"I am the blood of the dragon," she told the grass, aloud. Once, the grass whispered back, until you chained your dragons in the dark. "Drogon killed a little girl. Her name was … her name …" Dany could not recall the child's name. That made her so sad that she would have cried if all her tears had not been burned away. "I will never have a little girl. I was the Mother of Dragons." Aye, the grass said, but you turned against your children.

The importance of this quote cannot go unnoticed. She thinks about Hazzea all the time throughout the book, feeling deeply guilty about what Drogon did to her. But here, at the end, she cannot remember her name. The in world explanation is that, of course, she is delirious from being in the wilderness eating berries and being sick, but thematically this is her slowly turning away from the people she freed. Next comes a dream with Viserys (long quote incoming):

She dreamt of her dead brother. Viserys looked just as he had the last time she'd seen him. His mouth was twisted in anguish, his hair was burnt, and his face was black and smoking where the molten gold had run down across his brow and cheeks and into his eyes. "You are dead," Dany said. Murdered. Though his lips never moved, somehow she could hear his voice, whispering in her ear. You never mourned me, sister. It is hard to die unmourned. "I loved you once." Once, he said, so bitterly it made her shudder. You were supposed to be my wife, to bear me children with silver hair and purple eyes, to keep the blood of the dragon pure. I took care of you. I taught you who you were. I fed you. I sold our mother's crown to keep you fed. "You hurt me. You frightened me." Only when you woke the dragon. I loved you. "You sold me. You betrayed me." No. You were the betrayer. You turned against me, against your own blood. They cheated me. Your horsey husband and his stinking savages. They were cheats and liars. They promised me a golden crown and gave me this. He touched the molten gold that was creeping down his face, and smoke rose from his finger. "You could have had your crown," Dany told him. "My sun-and-stars would have won it for you if only you had waited." I waited long enough. I waited my whole life. I was their king, their rightful king. They laughed at me. "You should have stayed in Pentos with Magister Illyrio. Khal Drogo had to present me to the dosh khaleen, but you did not have to ride with us. That was your choice. Your mistake." Do you want to wake the dragon, you stupid little whore? Drogo's khalasar was mine. I bought them from him, a hundred thousand screamers. I paid for them with your maidenhead. "You never understood. Dothraki do not buy and sell. They give gifts and receive them. If you had waited …" I did wait. For my crown, for my throne, for you. All those years, and all I ever got was a pot of molten gold. Why did they give the dragon's eggs to you? They should have been mine. If I'd had a dragon, I would have taught the world the meaning of our words. Viserys began to laugh, until his jaw fell away from his face, smoking, and blood and molten gold ran from his mouth.

The dream terrifies Daenerys, but once again, Viserys (really herself here) is telling her she is stalling in a place she doesn't belong, that she needs to go home, that she should embrace being a dragon. The climax of this comes right after she realizes Meereen would never be her home, where she argues with Jorah (again, herself):

Meereen would always be the Harpy's city, and Daenerys could not be a harpy. Never, said the grass, in the gruff tones of Jorah Mormont. You were warned, Your Grace. Let this city be, I said. Your war is in Westeros, I told you. The voice was no more than a whisper, yet somehow Dany felt that he was walking just behind her. My bear, she thought, my old sweet bear, who loved me and betrayed me. She had missed him so. She wanted to see his ugly face, to wrap her arms around him and press herself against his chest, but she knew that if she turned around Ser Jorah would be gone. "I am dreaming," she said. "A waking dream, a walking dream. I am alone and lost." Lost, because you lingered, in a place that you were never meant to be, murmured Ser Jorah, as softly as the wind. Alone, because you sent me from your side. "You betrayed me. You informed on me, for gold." For home. Home was all I ever wanted. "And me. You wanted me." Dany had seen it in his eyes. I did, the grass whispered, sadly. "You kissed me. I never said you could, but you did. You sold me to my enemies, but you meant it when you kissed me." I gave you good counsel. Save your spears and swords for the Seven Kingdoms, I told you. Leave Meereen to the Meereenese and go west, I said. You would not listen. "I had to take Meereen or see my children starve along the march." Dany could still see the trail of corpses she had left behind her crossing the Red Waste. It was not a sight she wished to see again. "I had to take Meereen to feed my people." You took Meereen, he told her, yet still you lingered. "To be a queen." You are a queen, her bear said. In Westeros. "It is such a long way," she complained. "I was tired, Jorah. I was weary of war. I wanted to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. I am only a young girl." No. You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words. "Fire and Blood," Daenerys told the swaying grass.

And here is where everything changes. She has spent time trying to protect innocent lives, to make peace, not war, to be loved and accepted by Meereen. But here, she decides that it is time to do away with that. Meereen is not her home, Westeros is, and it's time to wake the dragon and burn Yunkai. No longer will she be burdened by the idea of a cost of innocent lives, no longer will she fear herself, and no longer will she linger. When the time comes, she will burn her enemies and leave for Westeros.

I need to make a few things clear here, however. For one, I don't think she's mad now, this is just her resolving her internal conflict. For another, I don't care what she does to the slavers. They deserve what's coming for them. She will still care about the innocent, but she's now going to go full-blooded Targaryen and burn cities to the ground, and this will mean massive collateral damage she will try to rationalize away.

Daenerys has now transformed into a different, much darker character, which I feel will continue to define her for the rest of the series. She is now the Mother of Dragons, in her entirety, and Essos is about to bleed and burn. I really appreciate how GRRM put this together, and that she didn't stay fire and blood after Astapor. His character development is realistic, and sometimes the development is not linear. In part 3, I will be discussing predictions about Daenerys's arc and story in TWOW, more specifically what she will do in Essos.

[wormstacheangel]

El Chacal con la trompeta while everyone chants FUERA! at Dean.

Read the first 3 chapters of my latinenatural Aqui (I know I can't believe it has chapters either)

Dean ran up the stairs to the 4th floor, where Sam said he was waiting. His adrenaline was pumping too hard to even wait by the elevator doors.

He got lost trying to find the room because nomas puede pensar que su hermanito ya sabe su secreto.

“Fuck!” Dean said out loud as he turned into another hallway while his head repeated, “No estoy listo! No estoy listo!”

Finally, Dean stood outside the closed glass door with the nameplate that read ‘C. Novak’ with his job description nicely engraved at the bottom. Dean knew Cas had a great job and knew his family owned a successful business; he just didn’t know that his family cleaned their building.

He stood outside the door for a second longer, letting out a shaky breath, before turning the handle on the door and letting himself in.

He didn’t know what he expected to see when he walked in. He was preparing himself for the yelling and the disappointed looks, but he didn’t get any of that. Instead, when Dean walked in, he was practically ignored.

He stood by the doorway watching Sam sit behind the desk while Cas stood behind him teaching him how to do some paperwork. Sam was smiling from ear to ear as he asked question after question while Cas answered them patiently. He was pointing and explaining as much as he could before Sam interrupted him with another question.

“Ya mamón, dejalo en paz.” Dean walked closer to the desk as both heads lifted to look at him.

Cas gave him a small smile while Sam completely ignored his words, eyes shining with excitement, as he pointed at the screen. “Dean! Mira, Cas is teaching me how to read a contract!”

Dean was close enough to read over his shoulder now and looked at the mess of words on the screen, humming as if he could understand any of it, before looking towards Cas.

“Sorry, my little brother is bothering you.”

Dean winks at him as Cas shakes his head, a blush growing at his cheeks.

“Not at all. Sam just mentioned he was interested in law, and while I don’t do any exciting Law and Order stuff, I thought I could show him some basics.” Cas put a hand on Sam’s shoulder to get his attention. “I’ll ask about our internship program and send some paperwork home with Dean.” Cas then looked towards Dean, looking unsure. “If that’s okay with you?”

Before Dean could answer, Sam spun around in his chair and stood up to shake Cas’s hand with both of his. It looked painful, but Cas chuckled with every tug of the arm.

“Really? Oh my god! Thank you, Cas!” Sam then looked at Dean, still looking like a kid locked in a candy store. “Dean, you have the best boyfriend ever! Si haces algo para arruinar esto, te mato.”

Dean’s eyes turned to meet a wide-eyed Cas who smiled awkwardly. “Oh, actually we aren’t-”

Dean’s body took a step forward without really thinking, but he knew what he was about to say as he took Cas’s hand away from Sam’s grip.

“Callate, menso. Cas, if my boyfriend. Tu piensas que no sé qué he's the best.”

“Boyfriend?” Cas looked like he had stars in his eyes as he turned to look back at Dean, his hand squeezing back before the familiar squint replaced it. “Really?”

Dean shrugs, acting as if it was no big deal while the butterflies in his stomach turned into a wasp nest. “Si quieres. If you want.”

All fear melted away as Cas nodded a few times, a growing grin stretching over his lips as big hands reached to cradle his face. Cas’s thumb was barely grazing his bottom lip, making Dean weak in the knees.

“Sammy.” Dean reached with his free hand to slap the back of Sam’s head. “Vete.”

Sam was sitting down looking at the screen again when he turned his glare on him, but Dean snapped his fingers and pointed at the door. His eyes stayed glued on Cas’s face, following the movement of his boyfriend’s tongue licking his lips.

“What? But we haven’t even talked about-!”

“Talk later.” Dean hissed, turning to give his brother the most ‘Si no te vas ahorita te voy a chingar’ stare he could give him.

“Dean,” Cas started as he dropped his hands and took a step back.

“No. No. No. No.” Dean wrapped his hands around Cas’s waist to hold him close because he knew that tone. “Cariño, por favor.”

He ignored Sam’s dumb snort of a laugh--he’ll kill him for that later--as he snuggled his nose into the side of Cas’s throat. He didn’t even care who saw right now; he wanted to make out with his new boyfriend in celebration.

“You two should just sit down and have a conversation. Anyways,” Cas took Dean’s face between his hands to hold his gaze, watching with his right eyebrow lifted to make sure Dean was listening to his words even though Dean was already swallowing hard at the look. “You’re working. So, how about I stay a little later and then I can drive you home after? Is that okay?”

Dean nodded, turning his head just a little to kiss Cas’s palm. “Lo que quieres.”

Cas excused himself to make copies while also asking Dean for his keys to the rooms to go into his brother Gabriel’s office to grab some of the things he essentially borrowed. Dean watched his novio walk out of the office before once again smacking the back of Sam’s head.

“Ow! Dean, si me pegas otra vez-!”

“Que? ¡A ver dime! Que vas hacer, pinche mamón?”

They ended up wrestling on the floor for a few seconds until they both grew tired and sat down behind Cas’s desk, looking out the window and into the night sky. They didn’t say anything for a while until Sam finally broke the silence.

“So que? Eres gay?”

Dean didn’t respond right away, trying to find the right words, but he knew there was one word that would easily explain it, but he has never said it out loud before. His throat dried up at the mere thought of it escaping his lips, but he knew it was time to finally come out. Sam already made it so easy by announcing how much he liked his boyfriend, su novio--fuck, tiene un novio.

Jamás pensó que iba a tener un novio. Let alone a rich white boy. What Cas sees in him, he will never know, but Dean didn’t want his fear and doubt to stop him from being happy.

“No,” Dean answered before clearing his throat. He wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs as he looked down, trying to make himself say it. It was just a word. Nomas es una pinche palabra pero--fuck. “No soy gay. Soy-soy...ugh, mierda this is hard.”

Dean could hear his voice break. His vision blurred as the word sat at the tip of his tongue, wanting to be set free but also fighting to stay hidden away. He was starting to become frustrated with himself, feeling like he was making a big deal out of nothing, but he felt like the world may explode if this didn’t go well.

Que va ser if Sam no cree en bisexuality? If Sam gets mad at Dean for not choosing one or the other because he thinks everyone is pretty great. Otra vez, Dean tenía miedo de perder a su hermanito.

Dean felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Sam looking at him in understanding. It wasn’t disgust or hatred like Dean feared, but he almost looked...proud?

“It’s okay, Dean. You don’t have to say anything. But just reassure me, are you happy with Cas?”

Dean let his shoulders fall and let out a heavy breath he held before looking down at his shaking fist. When he stretched his hand out, it burned, but he felt a little more relaxed because this, he could say.

He looked back at Sam and tried to smile while failing to hold in tears. “I really like him, Sammy. De verdad, yo pienso que me estoy enamorando de él.”

Sam’s eyes widened at the words, but then tears started to fall.

“Dude,” Dean rolled his eyes at Sam’s tears, trying to ignore his sliding down his cheeks. “¡No llores! You’re making it weird.”

“Sorry.” Sam chuckled as he wiped his tears, and then it was quiet again as they stared out the window.

“Okay, ya terminamos de hablar.” Dean slapped his leg before standing up. Giving Sam his back real quick so he can wipe sneakily wipe his face from any snot or tears. Sam copies him, and they head out of his boyfriend’s --tiene un novio con una officina!--office. “So let’s hurry up and finish so I can go make out with my--Ayi, esta!”

Cas was walking back towards his office with his arms filled with books and a large plant. He looked up when he heard Dean’s voice and sighed with relief.

“Oh, good! You’re still here. Can you help me with this? I still have one more plant to get, but it’s much heavier. I swear if Gabriel steals my shit again, I’m gonna make him into fertilizer.”

Dean’s heart raced as he grinned. He nudged his brother once before whispering, “No le digas nada pero lo quiero mucho.”

Sam only nodded once, his face scrunched up in confusion as if he wasn’t sure if he could tease him before Dean ran over to help Cas carry the big plant back to his office.

He held his cheek out for a kiss as soon as he dropped the plant where Cas wanted it, but instead of receiving a nice kiss, Cas started to push him out of his office.

“Okay, go to work so we can leave already.”

“Ni un besito?”

“No besito.”

“Pero, Angelito,” Dean kicked the door close once he was close enough and spun around to wrap his arms around Cas’s waist. Tugging him close until their noses touch.

Cas chuckled as he stood utterly still, almost challenging Dean with the lift of the eyebrow. “Yes?”

Dean clicked his tongue, pretending to be annoyed, as he dropped his hands.

“Nada. Nada. I’ll go back to work.”Dean reached for the door handle and quickly said, “Okay, bye. Te quiero.”

“Te qui-What?”

Dean opened the office door only for Cas to push it close again. He turned around to see his boyfriend looking at him con ojos azules y brilloso, watching him like he wasn’t sure if he heard it right.

“You um, you said-” Cas eyes watched his face as he nervously tried to read Dean’s face. “You explained that-that means two different things, and I’m just not sure if you mean-”

Dean interrupts Cas’s rambling with a kiss. It was short, but he couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I love you. I do.” Dean reached to gently wipe a tear from Cas’s cheek, smiling as he repeats himself. “Te amo, Cas.”

Cas opened his mouth, reaching for Dean, but they both jumped when they heard loud pounding at the door.

“Dean! Bobby’s coming.” Sam hissed through the door, and Dean could hear his name being faintly called along with curses.

“Shit, I left all my things on the floor. El viejo va estar enojado.” Dean kissed Cas’s forehead before opening the door and whispering, “I’ll come get you when I’m done.”

He was out the door when Cas called for him.

“Dean, wait-”

Dean and Cas were now standing face to face with Bobby, who looked between them with a questioning glare—mainly aimed at Dean. Sam was standing behind Bobby, knowing what to do as much as Dean.

“Hello.” Cas stepped forward with his hand stretched out to shake Bobby’s. “Sorry to keep your workers busy. They were helping me move some things in my office.”

Bobby shook Cas’s hand with a grunt. He pointed with a raise of the chin towards the office. “Oh. That office?”

Cas looked and then nodded. “Yes. Sorry. I didn’t introduce myself. Castiel Novak. Nice to meet you and sorry again.”

Dean could read Bobby’s face. Nope. Bobby does not like him.

Hijo de puta.

[fizzychocolatemilk]

La Belleza que Atrae... (The Beauty that Attracts...) (Seroroki Tropetember Drabble)

Seroroki tropetember drabble is here finally! This took more research than my usual fics because I wanted to make sure my Spanish was as correct and natural as possible. But here’s my drabble for day 14:  Monstrous (Human/Monster Romance) / Cultural Differences / Language Barrier. AO3 link here.

Shouto met Hanta on an unassuming day in his first week of being stationed at the Tucson, AZ location of Todoroki Corp. Shouto had honestly just been happy to get away from his father for a while, but to do that and meet the most interesting person he’d ever met?! It was a gift that Shouto wasn’t going to take for granted.

Before he actually met Hanta, he had bumped into him a few times first. On his second day there, he had been walking out of a coffee shop that he had never tried before when a man on a bike veered around him shouting, “Cuidado, Gringo!” Shouto stared after the harried man for a moment, thinking about the sleekness of the man’s dark hair and his tan skin, before continuing with his day.

In theory, Shouto knew that the man had been speaking Spanish—that didn’t mean he knew what the man said. Shouto’s father had been more interested in languages that would help Shouto with their international business; Japanese, Mandarin, and English were the languages that his father considered important. But now Shouto was starting to think about learning Spanish.

Shouto saw the same man when he was waiting to pick up a pizza the next afternoon. That time the man was on the phone, talking and laughing with whoever was on the other end of the line. “Jaja, sí! Estoy esperando ahora. Estaré allí pronto. Sí, sí...Adiós.”

The man put his phone back in his pants pocket, then looked up and accidentally locked eyes with Shouto. Shouto maintained his usual blank stare while giving a small placetory smile even though he was beginning to become enamored with the spanish-speaking man, but the other man smiled at Shouto—before furrowing his brows as their staring contest continued past the point of socially acceptable. Shouto was about to work up the courage to go and talk with the man when the employee at the counter called for “Sero!”

Shouto watched as the man went up to the counter and picked up and paid for around 5 boxes of pizza. It felt like he was in a trance as he watched the man’s biceps, exposed by his tropical-patterned, orange muscle tank, flex as he carried the pizzas out the door. He needed to talk to that man—language barrier be damned.

.

.

.

Shouto wasn’t thinking about the handsome man when he saved the little girl.

He had seen her wander into the street and moved without thinking. He heard someone shout, “Mija!” in the background as he tackled the white-blonde girl away from the traffic that was speeding towards her, then the world blurred out and went black.

.

.

.

“Señor...Señor Gringo...SEÑOR!”

Shouto groaned as he sat up...only to headbut the man hovering over him.

“Ay, cabrón!” The man shouted and clutched his head.

Shouto flushed slightly at being so close to the man, but managed to mumble out a semi-audible, if not slightly monotone, apology. The man stared at him, so Shouto asked, “Ummm...do you speak English? If so, I’d like your number. I’ve seen you around a few times and you seem very...interesting.”

The man wrinkled his nose at Shouto before responding, “Ee-m not...bery good ah-t inglés. Yo comprendo inglés aunque. Quieres mi teléfono...You...waant my...noombear?”

Shouto’s eyes sparkled when the man spoke to him (even though his expression remained mostly deadpan), and he nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, you are very beautiful...and I said this but I’ve seen you around several times and you just intrigued me every time I saw you for some reason. I’d like a chance to get to know you better.”

The man gave a soft smile and opened his mouth to respond before the little girl gave a slight tug to his sleeve, “Tío Hanta...tú y este hombre van a ser papá y papi?”

Shouto didn’t know what the girl said, but the man, Hanta, blushed hard and embarrassedly hissed, “Eri-chan, no!” Hanta hugged the girl to his side before turning back to Shouto, “Ehhhhh...tienes un bolígrafo...Doo you hahve ah pe-en?” Shouto reached into his bag and handed the man a pen. “Gracias,” the man nodded before pulling up Shouto’s arm and writing a series of digits on his inner forearm.

Shouto stared at the numbers for a moment before looking up at Hanta. The man grinned and pulled up his hand and used his thumb and pinky finger to make the “call me” sign as he walked away with the girl. Shouto needed to start learning Spanish.

That’s it! Thank you so much for reading and being patient for this one. Translations are under the cut.

Translations

Cuidado, Gringo! ~ Move it, Gringo! / Watch it, Gringo! (Gringo is a derogative term in the US for a white person and/or a white American—Sero didn't know that Todoroki is Asian...so he uses this term)

Jaja, sí! Estoy esperando ahora. Estaré allí pronto. Sí, sí...Adiós. ~ Haha, yeah! I'm waiting now. I'll be there soon. Yeah, yeah...bye.

Mija ~ darling / sweetheart (a common pet name, from what I see it's usually used by adults on children, but I'm pretty sure it can also be used for significant others...it can also be used as "mijo" if talking to a male)

Señor...Señor Gringo...SEÑOR! ~ Señor is sir or mister

Ay, cabrón! ~ Oh shit! / Oh fuck!

Ee-m not...bery good ah-t inglés. Yo comprendo inglés aunque. Quieres mi teléfono...You...waant my...noombear? ~ I'm not...very good at English. I understand English though. You want my number...You...want my...number? ("teléfono" literally translates to "telephone" or "phone"...but it is also slang for "phone number"...like how you say "number" instead of "phone number" in English)

Tío Hanta...tú y este hombre van a ser papá y papi? ~ Uncle Hanta...are you and this man going to be like papa and daddy?

Ehhhhh...tienes un bolígrafo...Doo you hahve ah pe-en? ~ Uhhhhh...do you have a pen...do you have a pen? (I know Sero repeats phrases, but usually when I'm speaking Spanish it helps me to say the phrase a couple of times or to say the phrase in English before I say it in Spanish...so I tried to incorporate that into the writing)

Gracias ~ Thanks / Thank you

[epiphany-of-a-madwoman]

The Last Dragon | The Witcher

Chapter 17 | A Tale of Dragons

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Targaryen!OC

Summary: Visenya Targaryen is the eldest and only surviving child of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell. When Robert Baratheon’s rebellion was won, instead of being slaughtered by the Mountain like her mother and siblings, she was saved by Ned Stark and taken as his ward. Years later, after she’s killed at the Red Wedding, she wakes up outside Blaviken. Now she finds her destiny intertwined with the White Wolf on her quest to go back home.

Warnings: Soft Visenya being soft with Geralt and children

Word Count: 5.6k

Note: Click here to read the previous chapters ♡ Also! My tag list is open!

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

She counts out each second, blade in hand as she moves along to her quiet muttering. Each step is like a dance, careful and practiced, as she leaves footprints in the dampened dirt. Every breath is even and quiet, inhaling on the beat and then exhaling on the offbeat. If her movements are a dance, then her breathing and counting is the song she sways to.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

She spins in time with the crescendo to the imaginary music. Her blade slicing through the air, steel whistling in the wind. But it isn’t uncontrolled. She maintains a firm grip on her blade, manipulating how it moves and where. She’s in a trance, captivated by the breeze on her bare skin and the symphony in her head. It’s not the rigorous and disciplined sword training she’s used to, that’s been hammered in her mind from the day she first held a sword. Instead, it’s lighter and freer, her sword becoming an extension of herself rather than a tool she uses separately from her.

“What are you doing?” a small voice says.

The music silences and her movements stop. She lowers the blade to face the ground rather than outward and turns, eyes falling to the ground. A small elven boy stares up at Visenya, curiosity, and wonder gleaming in his wide green eyes,

“Practicing,” she says, staring down at the small boy, no discernable emotion on her face. Despite the bluntness of her words and the blank expression on her face, the boy isn’t deterred.

“Can I try?”

She recognizes him as Rohir, the little boy that got knocked unconscious by the skeevy bandit Visenya killed. Within a few hours of making camp, he woke, restless and unable to stay in one spot for too long, much to the chagrin of his mother.

The corners of her lips twist into a look of amusement, eyes faintly twinkling in the dim light. He’s small, not much smaller than she had been the first time she held a sword - albeit a wooden one. She remembers faint memories of training yards and practice dummies at the Capitol; holding weapons too large for her, whilst onlookers simply ignored her, except for Ser Jaime. He stuck close to Visenya when he could, whether out of a sense of duty or genuine enjoyment, she never knew. As the years go on, she leans toward the latter, but a small part of her still hopes it was genuine liking.

A grin slowly creeps onto Rohir’s face, the prospect of sword training making his entire face light up with anticipation.

“No.” One word, two letters; that’s all it takes. The grin on his face and the sparkle in his eyes immediately disappear, leaving no trace of ever being there. Instead, a scowl overcomes his young features, his hands crossing over his chest. Visenya can’t help the snort that leaves her mouth, only further infuriating the boy.

“Why not?” His voice is petulant, a faint lisp following each letter.

“You’re too small. You’ll only hurt yourself,” she says, a hint of amusement in her otherwise deadpan tone.

“Says you!” he responded, fire and frustration coating each word.

“Says me,” Visenya mimics his words, lacking any of the heat that he possesses.

“But I’m really good!” Rohir exclaims.

She sheathes her blade, turning away from Rohir, eyes focusing on Geralt. He’s sitting on the ground, back against the trunk of a tree that’s on the other side of the camp. He sits so he’s not in the immediate line of sight, but at a vantage point that he can still see everything.

“I am sure you are,” Visenya says, a slight smirk on her lips. Ice cold leaves crack under the weight of her feet as she moves towards Geralt. Her walk is loose and casual, not a tense bone in her body.

“So why won’t you let me hold your sword?” He follows closely behind her, a furious storm, but his anger only furthers Visenya’s amusement.

“Because, you’re too small, and my sword is too big,” Visenya responds. She’s halfway to Geralt, standing in the center of the camp. Rohir huffs an argument on the tip of his tongue, only to be cut off by Amaria.

“Rohir! Come here, En'ca minne,” He loudly inhales only to sigh a moment later. Visenya hears his feet stomping into the dirt as he walks away. Quiet laughter follows Visenya as she closes the remaining distance between her and Geralt.

His eyes don’t move to meet hers; not when her feet appear in his peripheral vision nor when she joins him on the ground and her shoulder faintly brushes against his.

She says nothing and neither does he. Gold eyes focus on the flurry of movement and noises that fill the clearing. It’s more lively and happy than it had been only four hours ago. Amaria switches between tending to her still unconscious husband, only bearing to leave his side when she has to chase around one of her children who are acting up. The two youngest - Elana and Vyron - squeal in glee, chasing each other around without a care in the world. As their forms zip past Visenya she hears faint wisps of their conversation. They’re acting out a grand tale brimming with adventure and happy endings. They’re so free and untouched by the tragedy that was gripping at their feet, begging to pull them under its desolate claws.

She remembers those days. When she’d run around Winterfell like a feral animal, unblemished by the fate of her family. The horrors she was able to bury so deep in her mind they felt more like distant nightmares rather than reality, the box only unlocking when she grew old enough to understand that more than just silver hair separated her from the Starks.

More often than not she wishes she could go back, to be protected by the naivety of childhood.

“I didn’t take you as a fan of children?” Geralt’s voice pulls her from her thoughts. She glances over at him, the small smile that managed to slowly creep onto her face disappearing.

“Why?”

“They seem too loud, I thought you liked the quiet,” Geralt says. Visenya snorts, rolling her eyes. She returns her gaze to the clearing. Rohir sits beside his mother, a pout on his lips, still upset by Visenya's refusal to train him. Elana and Vyron continue to whip through the clearing, with no sign of stopping any time soon.

“I do, but children aren’t terrible,” Visenya answers, watching as the two youngest stop in a portion of the clearing that’s the farthest from anyone. Elana is yelling, the words foreign to Visenya, but Vyron seems to understand her perfectly.

“Do you want any?”

Visenya shrugs, watching as the respite the two children have taken ends as they continue to run around the clearing. She’s never thought about the prospect of children. For most of her life it seemed inevitable; she would be married to some lord or another, bear his children, and then die at some point. But then the war happened, and everything about her life that seemed certain became undetermined.

Visenya opens her mouth, despite not actually having an answer for his question, but is cut off as Elana appears, jumping onto Visenya's lap. Her breath is temporarily lost, and before she can regain it, Vyron quickly follows, landing on the right side of her lap just as Elana moves herself to rest on the left.

Geralt grunts, watching the two rambunctious children with a wary gaze, praying to every god that may listen that they don’t decide to jump on him next.

“Do you have any stories?” Elana asks, her face beaming in the dim light. A wide smile makes its home on her face, wonder causing her wide eyes to nearly glow. Vyron’s expression mimics hers, but his face is softer and smaller, causing him to look more like an excitable puppy. It’s nearly identical to Rickon, who clung to Visyena’s leg as if his life depended on it.

‘How fitting that he’s now dead,’

The thought enters and leaves her mind before she can fully comprehend it. Mentally she clears her mind, opting to focus on the wide-eyed children in front of her.

“What an odd question to ask. Why do you believe me to have any tales to speak of?” Visenya asks.

“You’re an adventurer. Adventures always have tales,” Elana says, her tone not allowing for objections. Her words are fact and she seems set on not accepting any other truths. Vyron doesn’t speak but opts to enthusiastically nod his head in agreeance with his older sister, a matching grin on his face.

“Do they now?” Visenya asks, tilting her head to the side.

“Yes,” Elana says, giving Visenya a single nod.

Laughter bubbles out of Visenya's mouth - the sound so light and sweet it captures the attention of Amaria and Rohir. She throws back her head and her eyes shut, the noise continues to resound in the camp. Geralt watches with less wariness, his face morphing into a less stern expression. On the opposite end of the camp, Amaria stands from her position, quickly making her way to the group of them, Rohir following behind her like a shadow.

“Elana, please, I’m sure the both of them would like to be left to silence,” she says, moving to grab her daughter. Elana’s posture slouches, the smile on her face falling ever so slightly. Visenya finally stops laughing, opening her eyes and looking towards Amaria.

“No, it’s quite alright,” Visenya says, shaking her head in disagreement as she adjusts to get in a more comfortable position. Amaria freezes in place, eyes darting between her children and Visenya as if she doesn’t actually believe the words she’s saying.

“As a matter of fact, I happen to have a tale that I know quite well, but it’s not one that I’ve experienced personally. Would you still like to hear it?” Visenya asks a playful grin resting on her features. Elana immediately perks up, nodding her head so enthusiastically it might’ve fallen off - Vyron following his sister's every movement.

“Yes, please please please,” Vyron and Elana immediately begin to plead, widening their eyes to achieve a more innocent and puppy dog appearance. Visenya’s eyes dart to Amaria, silently asking if it would be alright. The worry melts from Amaria’s face, posture relaxing as she grants Visenya a single nod.

She pauses for a second, racking her brain for a tale to tell that would be suited for an audience this age. She doesn’t think about it for long, a story she’s known since she could read words on a page immediately entering her mind.

“Let me tell you a story about dragons,” Visenya says. Elana and Vyron grow silent, waiting with bated breath for Visenya to continue. Rohir appears from behind his mother, a pout still present on his lips, eyes scowling at the dirt, but he continues forward, sitting right beside Visenya. He grabs a stick and begins tracing symbols into the dirt, refusing to make eye contact with anyone but the ground, attempting to maintain an air of disinterest.

“Many years ago, in a world far far away, there once was a city - Valyria they called it, and what a grand city it was. A place filled with wonder, magic, and dragons.”

Elana and Vyron gasp, audibly portraying their excitement. Rohir is more subtle, his ears only twitching slightly as his movements pause for a brief second. Visenya leans her head back, closing her eyes as she begins to bury herself in the stories she read a million times over, clutching that worn and torn book every night like it was the only thing keeping her on the ground. After a moment of silence and a deep breath, Visenya opens her eyes, staring straight ahead and into the fire that flickers a few feet away from them.

“It was a great city, managing to tame dragons they would ride into battle. They were fearsome and respected, managing to conquer large amounts of territories with their dragon fire. For 5,000 years Valyria was the capital of the greatest civilization, the heart of an empire that ruled half of the world. It was grand, but unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, which leads into this story.”

The children are enraptured, eyes solely focusing on Visenya - even Rohir abandons his guise of not being interested in her tale. She doubts that Vyron is following the story, but his eyes are wide and mouth agape - growing more exaggerated each time she mentions‘<dragons>’. Elana is young, but her eyes are sharpened with intelligence that’s older than her as she seems to follow the story well.

Amaria no longer stands, opting to sit on the ground, opening her arms as Vyron crawls off of Visenya’s lap and onto his mothers. Visenya glances at Geralt, his eyes already on her, his gaze burning into her. Her mind stutters, fog momentarily taking over so she can no longer focus on anything. Eyes snap away, once again focusing on the fire to clear her mind.

“There were many great houses, one of them known as House Targaryen, with shining silver hair and amethyst purple eyes, the family held distinctive Valyrian features. Targaryens were believed to have a closer connection to their dragons, to understand them in a way the other dragonlords never would.”

“Because they had magic, right?” Elana says, her voice firm and sharp. Rohir turns to his sister, a pout on his lips as he shushes her. She turns to face him, a matching glare set on her face.

“If you wait, she’ll tell us,” he says. She huffs, an indignant look on her childish face.

“I just wanted to know!” Elana says.

“Well, you should just wait!” Rohir says, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Rohir, be nicer to your sister, she’s just excited,” Amaria says in a soft and soothing tone, diffusing the argument before it could get any worse.

“But--” Rohir says, but quickly grows silent when he receives a stern glare from his mother. He huffs, slouching his shoulders and looking towards the ground. Amaria sighs, looking at Visenya with a soft smile on her face. Visenya smirks, amusement glimmering in her eyes.

“But to answer your question, in a way they were magical. They didn’t have mages, but they had visions that would come in the form of dreams. The most notable of these came from Daenys the Dreamer, who saw the fall of Valyria.

“But they had dragons! What could beat dragons!?” Rohir says in disbelief, eyes wide in shock. Visenya turns to him, the smirk on her face turning into a knowing look that has Rohir ducking away from her gaze. She chuckles, a soft sound that is carried away by the sudden roar of the fire.

“They did, but dragons couldn’t save them from the natural disasters that tore through the city. Fire, ash, and smoke filled the air, managing to kill even the dragons.”

“So they all died?” Elana asks with a quiet and sad tone, a strong lisp following every vowel.

“All except House Targaryen, who because of Daenys’ dream went west to Dragonstone, an island far enough away from Valyria to escape the desolation,” Visenya says.

“What’s dissolution?” Vyron asks. Elana turns her head to look at him.

“I think it means the end,” Elana says.

“No, it means death. There was lots of death!” Rohir says, turning to face his siblings. Vyron just nods, whilst Elana cocks her head to the side, brows furrowing in thought.

“It’s when something is damaged beyond repair,” Amaria says. “Their homeland was destroyed, just as many homes to the elves have been.”

Visenya looks at Amaria, who meets her gaze. There’s a sadness in her eyes that Visenya didn’t notice before, but it’s familiar. It’s the same look she saw in Filavandrel’s eyes, and any other elf she met that day.

“But they brought dragons with them, right? The dragons weren’t all dead, right?” Rohir asks, breaking Visenya from her mild trance. Before she can answer him, Elana whips her head in his direction, a look of exasperation on her face.

“Of course! They were the best with dragons!” Elana exclaims.

“I was just asking!” Rohir yells back, straightening his posture and face contorting into a petulant expression.

“Well, why are you asking stupid questions?” Elana responds, turning away from Rohir to face Visenya and rolling her eyes. Visenya’s hand shoots up to her mouth, attempting to cover the grin on her face. It manages to muffle the small laughter that escapes her mouth, the noise escaping the notice of everyone except Geralt and Amaria - who looks at Visenya with exasperation in her eyes.

“There is no need for arguing,” Visenya says, looking pointedly at Elana with a single eyebrow raised. She at least has the decency to look sheepish, scrunching her nose and looking down at the ground.

“Sorry,” she mutters at the same time as Rohir.

“You are forgiven, shall we get back to the story?” Visenya asks, a slight smirk on her lips. Elana looks up at her through her lashes, nodding her head.

“Good. They did bring dragons with them - five to be exact. While the names of four have been lost to the ages, one name is known to everyone who knows of House Targaryen; Balerion the Black Dread. He was a massive dragon, who when he grew to full size, could black out entire towns as he passed over them, his wings large enough to cover the sun.” Visenya says. The children make various sounds of wonder, eyes wide and unblinking.

“What did they do next?” Rohir asks.

Visenya pauses, cocking her head slightly as she tries to recall. Her only source of knowledge concerning her family is an old book that had been buried in the depths of the library in Winterfell that was tattered and torn from continuous use by the time she marched off to war. It was vague at best, not offering any new or rare information about her house, therefore the time in between The Doom and Aegon’s conquest is blank.

“Well, House Targaryen made a home at Dragonstone, away from the war that ensued twelve years later when Valyria was destroyed. Nothing of note happened until roughly a hundred years later,” Visenya says.

“Well, what happened!?” Rohir exclaims.

“That would be a story for another day. I believe it is getting too late to begin another - much longer - tale,” Visenya says, glancing at Amaria. She stands from the ground, Vyron still firmly attached to her. She reaches a hand towards Elana, who groans, but takes her mother’s hand, getting off of Visenya’s lap. Rohir doesn’t voice his displeasure, opting to silently stand and move to stand beside his mother, but it’s clear on his face. His eyes aren’t as bright as they were when he was enraptured by Visenya’s story and his lips are pulled into a small pout.

“Visenya is right, it’s getting late and we have a long day of travel ahead of us. Let us give our saviors some quiet,” Amaria says, turning her gaze to Visenya and Geralt for a brief moment before herding her children to the other side of the clearing. “Now say goodnight.”

Three ‘goodnights’ resound all at once, in various tones and noise levels; Vyron gifting Visenya with a particularly toothy grin.

She smiles, unable to force away the action nor the laughter that escapes her mouth.

“Goodnight. I promise to tell you another tale tomorrow while we’re traveling,” Visenya says, earning a blinding grin from Elana and causing Rohir to immediately perk up.

“You promise?” Rohir says.

“Swear it on my life,” Visenya responds without missing a beat. He nods his head, turning and rushing across the clearing, eager to sleep the rest of the night away. Elana tears after him - yelling about racing him there. Vyron squirms in Amaria’s arms, the grin still on his face, but Amaria maintains her tight grip on him.

“To bed we go, Dilthen er,” Amaria says to Vyron and places a kiss on his cheek. She turns to give Visenya and Geralt, giving them one last warm smile before she turns to follow after her children. They all gather in one section close to the fire and near the sleeping body of Aldon. For a few moments restless chatter and light giggles come from the children as Amaria attempts to lull them to sleep with a soft lullaby. Eventually, the noise dies down as one by one they all fall asleep, leaving only Geralt and Visenya awake.

“An interesting tale,” Geralt says, after a moment of silence - once the children have all fallen asleep, Amaria shortly follows suit, leaving only Visenya and Geralt awake. Crickets chirp all around them, the low rustle of wind disturbing their melody occasionally.

“I thought so too,” Visenya says, bones cracking as she stretches her body out. She wraps her arms around the tree behind her as she reaches her arms behind her, slumping against the tree a moment later. She continues watching the fire as the flames that used to rise towards the night sky die out.

“Is it real?” Geralt asks. He’s looking at her, she always knows when he is. Something about the way his gold eyes linger on her is so distinct that she'll always know when a gaze is him, even if it seems impossible to know such a trivial thing. Nothing about a person’s gaze leaves any physical sensory that can be identified, and yet, never once has she been wrong about Geralt’s gaze.

“Supposedly. Although, I’m sure some details have been lost to the ages - some purposeful and some not. Books aren’t always incredibly accurate, stories are often skewed to the favor of the author,” Visenya says. She turns away from the fire to look at Geralt, locking eyes.

“Details you knew perfectly,” Geralt says. His tone isn’t accusatory, but she can hear the underlying question in his statement.

“When I was a little girl I had a book that I would read every day. It was the only comfort I had most days. That story was one of the many tales within the book,” Visenya says, a smile that can only be described as melancholic on her face. Geralt grunts, continuing to watch Visenya, but not saying anything further. His eyes are curious, hoping she’ll continue and say something that makes her less of a mystery. Yet he’s also not willing to press her for information she doesn’t want to share. That much they have in common: two people with too many secrets that are wrapped behind scars that they cover up with fury and rage. Because it’s easier to lose people if they were never allowed close to her to begin with. Life is safer when she keeps everyone at arm's length.

Visenya stares up at the night sky, watching the stars as the ambient sounds of soft snores and dream laced giggles resonate through the clearing. She swallows thickly, a lump beginning to form in her throat as her mind wanders farther and farther away.

“They were my ancestors,” Visenya says, shattering the silent air around them. Geralt doesn't move, doesn’t even breathe in fear that it might disrupt the trace that Visenya is in.

“House Targaryen, the Dragon Riders from Valyria that conquered the Seven Kingdoms.” She chuckles after the words leave her mouth, brows furrowing ever so slightly as her eyes briefly meet the dirt before returning to the stars.

“An impressive ancestry,” Geralt says, his gravelly tone unsure, the words fumbling nearly awkwardly out of his mouth.

“Yeah I suppose so,” Visenya says, voice sounding a million miles away as if she isn’t even physically only a few inches apart from Geralt.

“Better than my lineage, anyways,” Geralt continues, looking away from Visenya. He adjusts his body, resting against the tree more comfortably as his eyes scan the dark forest around them, wary of any threats that may linger just out of eyesight. Visenya’s lips curl into a bare smile, he whispers of a chuckle leaving her mouth as she languidly leans against the tree.

“The dragons were the most impressive part,” Visenya says, eyes fluttering shut, the hectic day finally catching up to her as her body grows wearier the quieter their camp grows.

“Maybe we should find you a dragon,” Geralt says, a smirk on his lips and a gleam in his eyes. Visenya snorts, opening a single eye to look at Geralt.

“This world couldn’t handle me with a dragon, Geralt of Rivia,” she says, shutting her eyes.

“That may be so, but I’d still pay good coin to see it.”

She laughs again, cautious to not be too loud in fear of waking up the camp. She opens her eyes, turning her head to face Geralt, meeting his gaze head-on. Their eyes lock, the beat of her heart steadily increasing the longer they maintain contact. A fluttering sensation fills her stomach, one that she’s almost entirely unfamiliar with. The tired smile on her face softens as Geralt’s lips curl into a similar grin.

“But could you imagine having a dragon,” Visenya says. “To ride on the back of one and feel the wind against your skin and to just...be free.” Her voice is far away again, as she dreams of fantasies she stopped having at some point between childhood and having to become an adult.

“Hmm, I imagine it’d be cold,” Geralt says, a teasing undertone in his otherwise deadpan voice. Visenya reaches out, pushing against his shoulder as another round of quiet laughter leaves her mouth.

“That is what warmer clothes are for,” she responds. “It would be foolish to climb onto a dragon unprepared anyways, lest you become its dinner.”

Geralt laughs, a quiet gravelly noise that nearly causes the ground around them to vibrate and it’s so contagious she can’t stop the bubbling of laughter that also leaves her mouth. Eyes shining and grin getting larger, Visenya watches Geralt's normally harsh and austere face grow softer the longer he laughs. He nearly looks like a child, despite the scars across his face - both fresh and faded - and the deep-set bags under his eyes from the lack of a good night’s rest. His voice is hoarser than usual, sleep and exhaustion weighing down his words causing them to slur together. But the way his eyes are alight and the sweet grin that tugs at the corner of his lips are adorable - a word not often associated with a man like Geralt, but Visenya wouldn’t describe him any other way.

“Stop, it was not even that funny,” Visenya says, and despite her attempt at sternness, laughter follows every word.

“I’m not laughing,” Geralt insists, and despite his best efforts at swallowing it, a small grin still rests on his face.

“Yes you are,” Visenya says.

“I think you’re hearing things, Vis. Perhaps it’s time for you to sleep,” Geralt says, moving his eyes to scan the camp. Her laughter immediately dies down as the smile on her face dims just the slightest, but Geralt seems unaware of the sudden shift in tone.

“What did you just say?” Her words are a whisper, nearly unheard by Geralt. He turns to look at her, the light grin on his face disappearing once he notices her expression.

“That you should rest,” Geralt answers.

“I heard, but what did you just call me?” Visenya says.

He pauses, eyes scanning the entirety of her face, focusing on the unreadable glint in her eyes and taking special note of the slight frown on her lips. But she doesn’t appear angry or sad or any of the other flurry of emotions he’s seen on her face in their travels.

“I called you Vis,” Geralt says after a moment of silence.

“Why?”

“Because Vis is shorter than Visenya,” Geralt says. “Should I not call you that?”

She inhales, quietly, eyes moving towards the dirt. It’s the nickname she’s had all her life. Robb, Jon, and everyone else always called her Vis. It was shorter and easier, they’d always tell her. She’d always argue her name isn’t even difficult to say, but they’d never agree and she’d never say how much she secretly enjoyed the name. It’s been so long since she’s ever heard anyone utter the nickname, it’s startling to hear it slip from someone's lips so effortlessly.

Then she exhales, an unknown weight lifting from her chest as she meets Geralt's gaze.

“It’s been so long since I’ve heard that nickname. I wouldn’t mind hearing it again,” she says, lips curling into a shy smile. A small sparkle appears in her eyes. It’s not the fiery gold eerily similar to burning flames that sparks when she’s furious or the sly mischievous glint he’s familiar with. Nor is it a glassy look from tears that she’s trying her best to hold back when she’s drowning in sorrowful thoughts. It’s bright, but not painfully so. Instead it’s sweet and soft, like the first flower blossoming on the first day of spring or the soft wind after a harsh winter.

Geralt nods, his stiff features relaxing as the stress of inadvertently offending her dissipates.

“Now I have to think of a nickname for you,” Visenya says, a teasing smile slipping onto her face. Geralt groans and rolls his eyes, flashbacks of all of Jaskier's attempts at creating nicknames to call Geralt. Much to his chagrin, the White Wolf seemed to stick as his title that the general public knew him as, but Jaskier was determined for another one to call Geralt. And Visenya knows this, as she was there for every failed attempt.

“Please don’t,” he says, only causing Visenya to laugh harder. She quickly rests a hand over her mouth in an attempt to suppress the noise so as to not wake up the camp. But every time she glances at Geralt and sees how truly exasperated he appears.

“What about Ger. We’d be a pair: Ger and Vis; Vis and Ger,” Visenya says. “I should be a poet, did you hear that little rhyme I did?”

“Hmm, you’d give Jaskier a run for his coin,” Geralt responds.

She snorts a small smirk on her lips. Her thoughts wander to Jaskier, wondering what he could be up to and if he is still happy. He probably is, he could find fun in the dullest of affairs.

“As much as I hate to admit it, but I miss Jaskier,” Visenya says. This time it’s Geralt that snorts, an exasperated look crossing his face as he rolls his eyes.

“I can’t say I feel the same.”

“Don’t lie, Geralt. We all know he’s wiggled his way into your good graces, it’s just what he does. You’re annoyed and want nothing more than for him to leave and then one day, you enjoy the constant jokes and mindless prattling,” Visenya says. Geralt hums, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

She adjusts her body, attempting to get into a more comfortable position, eyes growing heavier as each second passes. The cool wind is soothing against her warm skin, the crickets a lullaby that pulls her closer to sleep.

“What about your ancestry? What family does The White Wolf come from,”

Silence washes over them. And just when Visenya thinks Geralt won’t answer, he does.

“My mother was a sorceress, that’s all I know about my family. She left me with the Witchers when I was young.” His voice is somber and low, quieter than the volume they’d been talking with earlier.

“Do you miss her?” Visenya asks. She’s cautious and careful, taking special care to not push Geralt. Once again she’s met with silence and after a few moments, it becomes obvious he’s not going to answer.

“I miss my mother. I can’t really remember her, but I have this… this void that her death left behind,” Visenya says. She sighs, glancing up towards the stars once again, using the wind to dry the tears forming in her eyes. “And it never goes away, no matter how hard I try to pretend it isn’t there.”

Her breathing stutters and she huffs out a weak chuckle, attempting to cover the slip up of emotional vulnerability.

"I’m not sure how to feel. A part of me resents her for giving me to the Witchers, allowing them to turn me into a mutant,” Geralt says. She looks at him, wide eyes watching him. He doesn’t look at her, opting to stare at the dying fire.

“Sometimes I hate my father, it’s easier to blame him for everything that happened to my family because of his selfish decision. But I can’t bring myself to fully hate him, and I hate myself for feeling so indecisive about him,” she says.

It’s silent again, the air more uncomfortable than moments ago.

Not allowing herself to think on it too much, she begins to move her body, shuffling to sit closer to Geralt, only stopping when their legs are touching. Tentatively, she lowers her head to rest on his shoulder, hand intertwining with his. Neither of them say a word, and the awkward tension dissipates. Geralt’s stiff body relaxes, resting his head on top of Visenya’s.

"I wouldn't mind having children someday, to live a simple life and retire from adventuring," Visenya says. 

Geralt hums in response, drowsiness coating the simple response causing Visenya's lips to turn upwards and her cheeks to glow.

They stay that way, silent and content with the comfort of each other. Eventually, sleep begins to once again pull on Visenya, and she doesn’t resist.

“Goodnight Vis.”

“Goodnight Geralt.”

o0o

Elvish Translation:

- En'ca minne: Little Love

- Dilthen er: Little One

o0o

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[i-see-you-now-you-see-me]

Loving us Both or, Another level of Crazy 

(oneshot, but depends of the future) Part of the DYVLONY series, can be read seperately

Pairing : villain Hendery (Wayv) x Reader

Word count: approx 4k

About: I tell you now, important part of this story is- Hendery has two personalities, but it comes up in the story, not to confuse you, here they are:

Hendery (Huang Guanhang)- boss

Guanhee- Huang Guanhee- who deals with all filthy stuff, boss/ to everyone they are brother and sister

Warnings: Mentions of blood and gore, a bit of descriptive character death, sex, filthy smut, Guanhee is a dirty bitch, sex, sex, and some more...

filth under the cut

*Earth, the third Planet from the Sun, 149.6 million kilometers away*

-I keep telling you that someone took her, I am sure of it! – Nurse Nana, your friend whom you hade become great friends, answered.

-Miss, there is no proof of that, you cannot just announce things like this on the internet, it is classed as a felony, - the police officer was not having it, it was the third family member this week, who were saying the exact same thing, “we were on a night out, and she never came back” sort of thing. And the best was, all of the missing persons went to the same club.

Yet police didn’t want to spend their money on this. There were far more important things for them to be dealing with at this hour.

-Alright miss, we will make a file and let you know as soon as something will come up, - he announced.

-Thank you, - nurse Nana thanked the police and left.

While studying at UNI you had a big exam coming up, to help you in the process you had applied to help at the local hospital, trainee psychologist assistant, and a Doctor Vera McGregorky welcomed you into all her conversations with her patients, who didn’t mind you, a student to be there and listen. You had signed the documents for confidential information, and not a single word had escaped your mouth in talks of other patients.

You had met Nana when you arrived, she was the one to greet you and lead you to the doctors’ office, she was nice, and you became friends.

Once your exam had passed, she had invited you for a glass of beer on a night out, (you rarely drank beer, but sometimes you enjoyed it), so you agreed. Somehow during the night, you were left alone, because Nana smoked, and she used to say, “I don’t want your lungs to get polluted because of me, you know that statistics have proven, that a non - smoker standing next to a smoker is at higher risk of lung pollution than the actual smoker,” and she would add with a grin, “that’s the trufff”.

And now, she was there. Walking down the street where the club was.

-Where are you, Y/N, what happened to you, - when she returned from smoking, you were nowhere to be found, she searched everywhere in the club where she could. Not a single glimpse from you was there.

Ever since that day, she has been trying to file a missing persons case, even posted on the internet about it, receiving a few reposts and likes, until she was called to police office. If they would have been a bit more interested in that, eh?

Nana sighed.

-Assholes, - she whispered as she walked of.

* Planet DYVLONY, 10043567901;1102033149001*

-I hate that bitch, - one of the henchmen spoke.

-I know, last time when she slapped you, I remember the look on your face, - he sighed, - why can’t it be her brother this time.

-I know, right? Sometimes she really gets on my nerves.

They both walked through a warehouse that belonged to the Infamous Twins of DYVLONY, and today was one of those days where, instead of himself – Hendery, their boss, more liked preferred boss, they had to work together with his twin sister Huang Guanhee, who, if/when in a bad mood, tended to treat people like shit.

-Didn’t I tell you, that I don’t want to see your ugly ass looking faces today? Huh? Was I not clear? – Huang Guanhee sat on a chair, while behind her, tied to a post was a naked woman, barely breathing, beaten to a pulp.

-Sorry to disturb you, ma’am, but Mr. Tieger wants to see you, or your brother, he is outside, - Guanhee sighed, she hated that bastard, he owed them a lot of money, and he was trying to barter all sorts of shit on a regular basis.

-Ah, - she groaned, - bring him in, - Guanhee agreed.

Both henchmen walked out, grabbed Mr. Tieger by his collar, and really brought him in on his knees, where he stayed. Looking up, seeing Guanhee sitting on the chair, he bit his cheek. She was not the person he wanted to see there.

-Why are you here? I am busy, - she said and crossed her legs.

-I, - his mouth felt dry there for a moment, there was something not right about this woman, - I have been selected to take care of… the aliens that had crashed.

Guanhee arched a brow.

-So? – she asked.

-I have no need of an alien in my home, and I thought… - she didn’t let him finish a sentence.

-You thought? – she abruptly stood up, - exactly what, huh? You come here an offer some alien? What’s in it for me, eh?

She walked closer and smacked Mr. Tieger in the face, so hard, he fell backwards. She groaned and straightened herself up. Guenhee looked at her poor, tied girl in the back, licking her lips, taking a stick from the floor, she walked over to the girl and beat her sides and legs, the girl only jerked around with no sound, tears flowing down her face, she had no voice anymore.

-This is what happens when you don’t pay back the money, and as much as I love a pink pussy to feast on, you don’t have one, so get the fuck out of these premises, and in ten days bring us back money, or else, I will leave you dick- less bleeding in the street, do you understand?

Never have you ever seen a man run as fast as Mr. Tieger did in that moment.

-This bitch is crazy, - he said to himself, as he got in his car and drove off.

Later in the room, on the top floor of the warehouse, Guanhee was undressing. Her stockings were rolled off, her skirt neatly folded on the bed, her white blouse folded on top of that, her hair, a brown (ish) wig, left on the side, before being put away on a mannequin. Fake eyelashes taken off, together with her make up, fake boobs off, and his penis freed from the tight panties.

-It’s your turn now, - she said and looked in the mirror. As soon as those words left her mouth, Hendery appeared, straightened himself up, hearing a knock on the door.

-Boss, it’s me, can I come in? – Hendery walked over and opened the door. His right- hand man was there. Dante was the only person on DYVLONY who knew the ugly truth.

Hendery and Guanhee were the same person.

*

You sat in the waiting room, a bit nervous, of course. Passing an exam had felt easier than this. Palms sweaty, one of your legs kept shaking.

-Nothing to worry about, - you assured yourself, - it’s going to be just fine.

Mr. Tieger was signing papers, ready to greet you, and then sell you off. He knew today he would see Hendery, not his sister, he was sure of it, he will definitely be ready to bargain. Once Hendery see’s how you look like, Mr. Tieger might be in for a good money.

-Hello, miss Y/N, I am Mr. William Tieger, - he shook your hand, - shall we go now?

You nodded. He looked like a “decent” man. Mr. Tieger made sure you walked first, he checked out how you looked like from behind, all the curves in the right places, he will def be swimming in gold after tonight.

-Let’s make a d-tour, - he said, helping you in his car, and soon he had stopped in front of what looked like a very posh atelier. Walking in, he was greeted with two DYVLONY ladies.

-Hello ser, how can be of assistance today, - they said in unison.

-I need to dress her, - he leaned in, while you weren’t listening, - the sexier the better.

Both girls nodded. This was the most popular atelier for a lot of reasons, and the girls were ready for their task. Taking your measures, they went to work on your clothing straight away. Soon, you were wearing embroidered bralette, with matching pantie set, and attached stockings, down your legs. And for whatever reason, your last piece of clothing, a really flimsy looking dress was put on, you looked cheap.

-What is this? – you asked, - I am not wearing it! – you protested.

-You, - Mr. Tieger spoke, - my darling, won’t have a choice.

With that your world went black. One of the assistants had knocked you out, wearing a big smile on her face, even while tying you up. Mr. Tieger paid in cash, threw you over his shoulder, and left. Putting you in the booth of his car, for no one to see. He smiled to himself adding the last piece – a mouth cloth.

-Let’s make Hendery happy, - smacking your thigh with his hand, he closed the booth and drove off.

The warehouse looked as dead as ever. Henchmen stood in the front, guarding the twins, as Mr. Tieger pulled up. Stepping out, he gave the man a sheepish grin.

-I am here to speak with Hendery, I have something to offer, - this time, henchmen didn’t say anything, just opened the door to let him in. Mr. Tieger took you out from the back, and again, put you over his shoulder, bringing you in. Slowly walking closer, he noticed that the chair was turned around.

-Huang Guanheng, - he greeted, - good to see you here.

There was no response on the other side.

-I am here to bargain a little something, you might find of value, - he smiled, putting you down on the cold floor. He didn’t notice how “Hendery” crossed his legs, and his arms over his chest. – this is the alien; I think she might be to your liking.

The doors of the warehouse were now locked, no one could get in, and no one could get out. Somehow, you found yourself waking up, no sounds leaving your mouth, but a short breath. Startled by a strong grip on your jaw, your eyes stayed shut.

-What do you think? – Mr. Tieger’s smug face was back at it. The chair turned around and he gasped. – what the fuck?! – he shouted.

Looking back at him was Guanhee, wearing her best smile, she even winked towards him.

-I thought I warned you once, - she said, still sitting down.

-Where is Hendery, Guanhee? – Mr. Tieger asked.

-I don’t have to answer you, but if you must know, I take that as your dying wish. You really are something, - Guanhee said, - but no worries, soon I will gut you like a fish, and make sure everyone is watching.

-What??? – Mr. Tieger was angry, he came towards her in big striking steps. Once close enough, he was ready to grab Guanhee by her hair, and before he could react a knife was plunged in his lower abdomen.

-I did promise you, didn’t I? – she giggled as a crazy person, the knife was now used to cut Mr. Tieger open, knife stopping at his ribs, while blood gushed out of him. His knees hit the floor, and you opened your eyes. Startled to see what was going on, you had to get away. Easier said than done, with your arms tied behind your back, and your legs tied as well, the only movement you could do, is somewhat like a worm, inch by inch moving away, trying not to pay attention to someone dying in the background.

Guanhee watched as Mr. Tieger bled on the floor, her own clothing was dirtied by now, but she didn’t bother. Looking over she saw you trying to crawl away, and she smiled.

-Hey, - she shouted, and you stopped not knowing why you stopped. – I will give you ten second head start, say thank you Guanhee, - she clapped her hands.

Your eyes were bulging out of your scull now, ten seconds? No chance you’ll get anywhere, a sudden thought was in the back of your mind. “I will die now”, tears started streaming down your face as you kept on trying to move away.

-Ten, - Guanhee announced as she stepped closer, starting the count down. – Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

You heard her right by you when she said “one”, her hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your upper body upwards, making you even more uncomfortable. The bloody knife in front of your face, you started pleading for your life, even with your mouth filled with cloth, that was tied behind your head. You must have sounded terrible… because Guanhee let go of your hair. You landed on your face, hitting your forehead in the process.

-Give her a shower, - Guanhee mentioned with her hands, - then tie her up like normal.

-Yes ma’am, - henchman nodded.

Dragging you away for the “shower”, which in reality meant, ice cold water on your body, getting you rid of the clothes you wore. Cold and worn out from the cold shower blast, you didn’t struggle when your naked body was tied up by the wooden post. The only thing you could see was a chair, which was unoccupied for now.

Guanhee washed up, changed her clothes, looking in the mirror, she smiled to herself, putting on her glasses, she walked through the room and down the stairs.

She saw your naked form from the second floor and rubbed her palms together. Sitting on the chair, she watched you closely. You didn’t struggle, your mouth had tape over it, the only thing you did, you were weeping, trying to do it quietly.

Listen. You had seen crazy, while working at the hospital, there had been patients that had to be in the mental asylum, you had read too much about serial killers, how they disliked people crying, or, how it edged them on. So, you tried to calm yourself.

Guanhee stood up and walked closer.

-You do have a pretty face, though, - she started, taking your jaw in her hand, - I must say, Mr. Tieger was right, you could be of use, - she gave you a smile. Her hand let go of your face and then she grabbed your nipple. Pinching it, twisting it with her fingers. You didn’t know what to do, how to react, your body betrayed you well, heat pooling in your lower areas, the same as the hotness travelling to your face.

Then her lips enveloped the other nipple, she went full licking and sucking on your breast, and soon her hand was not only pinching the nipple but massaging the whole breast.

“Fuck no,” you thought to yourself, trying to get your body to cooperate with your mind, but it wouldn’t budge.

Then she swapped it over, her lips on the other of your breast peaks and the other twisting your other nipple. Her hot mouth was providing you with saliva, that you felt sliding down your torso, to your stomach.

-Guess my favorite color, - she spoke looking at you. You didn’t know what to say, and you couldn’t anyways, but still. Without a warning her hand was in between your legs, grabbing on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

Your breath hitched in your throat.

What was she doing?

-I will tell you, - she said as she got on her knees, you saw henchman approaching. Your legs got untied, and the henchmen were holding you up. Shame of nakedness like this was seen on your face. You were now legs apart, pussy on display, a single drop of your nectar gathered on your pussy lips. You looked everywhere else, but not down. Guanhee smacked your thigh to get your attention, it went to a shade of red after the second smack. – I love pink, - she announced while biting her lip.

Your heart was in your throat now, beating so fast, you weren’t ready for what Guanhee had in mind. Her tongue prodded pass her lips, and the tip of it touched your mound. She then gave you a test lick between your folds, swallowing your juices, slowly moving her tongue up and down until she reached your tight hole. She smiled. You saw her smile before she took of her glasses and her tongue went back to its job.

Her tongue dived in your tight hole, in and out, a little faster then and a little slower after, tears were threatening to fall down your face again. Not only a woman was going down on you, but it was also giving you a spark of pleasure. She sat back on her knees, bringing a hand to her face, licking a finger, before the same finger entered you, you shut your eyes.

She was exploring your vaginal walls, finding a soft spot, that made your legs quiver a bit, she continued to press on it more, and then her mouth attacked your clitoris. She sucked and licked, and she finger – fucked you, till you orgasmed, screaming through the tape, your legs shaking from pleasure. Intense waves of hot electric feeling went through all of you, goosebumps rising on your skin.

Guanhee stepped back, her face was covered in your cum, she licked her lips, wiping some of your cum on her hand so she could lick it off. She stood up.

-What a good girl, - she said, - coming on my face like that, hmm, I might just keep you.

With that she walked away. Soon your legs were down on the floor again, tied back up. Then the tape was pulled off, and you were given water by one of the henchmen. Chugging it down like it was your last meal, not knowing what’s going to happen after.

And for some reason, you drifted to sleep soon after that.

When you woke up, the sun was peeking through the windows. Once your eyes adjusted, your face turned straight to the chair. There was a figure sitting there. Looking at you was a man. Who looked just like the lady… Guanhee was her name, right? Uhm, what?

-Good morning, - he greeted, you nodded. If you were alive, it really was a good morning. – I am Hendery, you must have heard about me?

You nodded “no”.

-I see, - he laughed a bit, - you really are not from here, are you?

The more you looked at him, the more it seemed like you were tripping. Somewhere in your mind was a doubt. Alright, you have heard of identical twins, and all that, but so much common in looks on twins, it was a rare sight. And the doubt in your mind was saying, that something was not right.

-You look tired, - he said, - rough night?

You rolled your eyes at the comment. Hendery stood up and walked over.

-How about I untie you, give you some clothing and some soup? It can stay our secret, - he said, and you nodded. Soon after you were clothed and fed, and very thankful.

The next couple of days, you were allowed to move around in the warehouse and a bit outside at the back, mainly just sitting down at a wooden table with one of the henchmen to accompany you. You were thinking. The more you thought of a possibility that could be true, the more you started to agree that it really could be true.

Psychology had taught you well. Seeing the signs of un-healthy mind was easy for you to spot, those couple of months helping Doctor Vera, were paying off.

The next day, while outside eating breakfast, you were greeted by Guanhee.

-I thought I might see you here, - she said startling you, -my brother has treated you well, - she bit her cheek.

-At least he’s nice, - it came out harsher than expected. Guanhee grabbed your hair to turn your face to her, and smacked your cheek, left one first and then your other one. Then she pulled you up only to kick your legs, so you fell on your knees. She didn’t let go of your hair.

-Ah, - she said, - is this how we are going to play? Shall I tie you to the post again? – her eyes were filled with anger as she spat the words out, - starve you until you are nothing but a pile of bones for the wild wolves?

-No wonder everyone hates you, - you hit her weak spot with your sentence.

The cold shower was blasting at you again, you fell down, this time Guanhee was doing it herself, and to your surprise, she was stronger than she looked. Dragging you by your hair, this time she tied you, while you were on your knees. You ended up- legs wide opened, ass in the air, while your breasts were pressed at the wooden post.

She disappeared.

You didn’t even hear or see where she went, but you were left all by yourself, your eyes closing for a brief moment.

-My sister left you for me as a gift, - a voice spoke, waking you up from your slumber, it was Hendery. He was next to you, his hands stroking your sides, your stomach, then your ass cheeks, giving both of them a squeeze. – she knows how to make me happy, - he said.

His hand begin massaging your pussy, stroking your folds.

-Don’t do it, - you squeaked out, when Hendery’s hand touched your clitoris.

-And why not, - he smiled as he continued the assault on your cunt, - my sister already had a taste, I really want to try that too, - he pouted. – she always gets all the fun.

-I would rather suck your dick, - you spoke to stop him.

-Maybe another time, - you heard the zipper of his trousers, and then you felt his thick cock prod at your entrance. He moved his mushroom head up and down your folds, gathering the slick to cover his member. His hand softly touched your stomach as he was steadying himself. – breath in, baby-girl, - he whispered, licking on your ear, where he positioned his body.

His thick cock entered you only a couple of centimeters, you exhaled loudly with a moan. Slipping deeper, Hendery made sure to wait, till you got accustomed, inch by inch. Once completely sheathed inside of you, his balls where right at your bottom, he started a steady rhythm. It was followed by grunts and groans, and every thrust he gave you was as delicious as a desert after a meal.

Your walls were clamping down on him so hard, Hendery had to stop, to make you relax a bit more, and then he would get back to it. He knew you were close, the more your walls were sucking him deeper, the readier to orgasm you were. With a couple more thrusts you came, biting your lips, grabbing onto the wood. Hendery still worked to reach his high, and just before he could, you came again, and then he stilled, filling your abused cunt to the brim.

His arms around your body stayed like that for a while, the same as his lips licked your sweat from the back of your neck, down to your shoulder blades. Pulling out slowly, he earned a moan from you.

-Should I leave you like this? – he teased. – I think I will…

-Noo, - you protested, - I cannot feel my knees, - you said honestly.

So instead of leaving you like that, he turned you around, tied your back against the post, with his seed between your legs, making it impossible to move, the unpleasant feeling lingering there. He was smiling at you. The same smile Guanhee gave you. And he walked up the stairs and, in that room, where you had seen Guanhee disappear a couple of times, only to be greeted by Hendery the next day, or Guanhee a day after that.

And as you anticipated, you woke up with someone touching you, opening your eyes you saw Guanhee, licking her lips.

-Beautiful morning, isn’t it? – she asked, and you didn’t respond. – my brother had some fun, I see, - she licked her lips, - I can clean you up, if you’d like?

You nodded a “no”, and Guanhee stared at you, before leaving.

-I know who you are, - you shouted behind her, and Guanhee slowly walked back.

-And what is that?

You stayed quiet, till she was right in front of you. She stared down at you, grabbing your jaw in her hand.

-Hendery is you and you are Hendery, Guanhee doesn’t exist…- you said. – you are not real.

She slapped you.

-Are you afraid of the truth? – you asked. – you and I both know; this is not the way to live.

-Who are you? – she asked, grabbing you even harder.

-I can help you, - you said, - I can help you both, if only you’d let me…

The conclusion – split personality. This might be the scariest patient of all, but you were ready to use your knowledge to help as much as you could.

Guanhee stared at you, leaning in, and you felt something pressing onto your leg. Through her tight skirt, a visible boner was pressing through, her lips attacked yours.

-But before that, we can play a little…

[ad1thi]

@starklysteve  rhae asked for some winteriron recs (read: i volunteered to spam rhae w buckytony fics because i adore them), so in no particular order, and based on my memory alone, here are some of my favourite buckytony fics!!

(please remember to leave kudos and comments!!)

American Memorial: @/spqr

“Pick up the shield,” Tony said. Understandably, Bucky told him to go fuck himself

Losing You (Is My Supervillain Origin Story):  @amethystinawrites

There are a lot of things that Bucky regrets. The list is, quite frankly, longer than he can handle on most days and, right at the very top, is lying to Tony about who killed his parents. Bucky has known even from before they started dating, but he simply can't bring himself to say anything — to ruin one of the few good things he has in his life. It's selfish and wrong, but Bucky just doesn't know how to tell Tony that he is the one responsible for Howard and Maria Stark's deaths.

So when he starts receiving anonymous emails, threatening to expose the truth to Tony and the rest of the world, Bucky is desperate enough to agree to the blackmailer's terms, even if it means breaking up with Tony. Bucky cannot, under any circumstances, let Tony find out about his parents from anyone but Bucky himself.

Too late Bucky realizes that there is much more to the blackmailer's scheme than just having Bucky break Tony's heart. Too late Bucky realizes that despite his best intentions, he will still end up losing everything — in a much more permanent way than he could ever have imagined.

Hindsight: @amethystinawrites

Ever since he was a little boy, Bucky has dreamed of becoming an astronaut together with Steve, and he can hardly believe their luck when both of them are picked for the Ares 3 crew — the third expedition sent to explore Mars. It is, quite literally, a dream come true.

Things get complicated when Bucky finds himself inconveniently attracted to their mechanical engineer, however. Tony Stark is funny, competent, and absolutely captivating, but considering NASA's strict non-fraternization policy, Bucky knows it's better to keep his interest to himself — at least until they return to Earth. He can wait.

Not once does Bucky consider the possibility that all of them might not make it back alive, or just how much he'll come to regret not acting when he had the chance.

Arsenal: @tangodancer91 (part of a series) (also my all time favourite buckytony series ever)

Two years after the Civil War that tore apart everything she’d bled to build, Toni Stark sacrificed herself for her newly-reinstated teammates and ended up stranded in the past. Freed of her name, her fortune, and her hostile ex-teammates, she built herself a life as an agent for the OSS, the American secret service, and, having nothing to lose, accepted a mission to infiltrate the newest player in the war: an organization that call themselves HYDRA.

Then, she met a young draftee with a dreadfully familiar face, and they clicked like she had never clicked with anyone before. By the time she realized she’d fallen for the man who’d cost her everything, it was too late, but she’d always been an all or nothing type of girl, and if she was damning herself, well then…might as well go all the way.

Yield: @aurumacadicus (this is an a/b/o verse fic)

All Bucky has ever wanted was to win the contest for Tony's hand in marriage. It's a bit harder now that he's down to one arm, but luckily his friends are willing to help make up the difference.

Barnes Family Motors Inc: @phlintandsteel-ao3 (this is an a/b/o verse fic)

In a world where alphas legally own omegas, Bucky is just a small time mechanic from Brooklyn who gets lucky in a poker game. Tony is an omega whose life is fraught with abuse, until his luck suddenly takes a turn for the better.

In the grand scheme of things they may only be able to make little differences in the lives of those around them, but that doesn't mean it's not worth making them. After all, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

The Long Con (don’t kid yourself): @phlintandsteel-ao3

When Tony finds out that Howard is thinking about changing the terms of Tony’s trust fund, he embarks on a not-so-elaborate scheme to prove that he’s totally settling down and not in continued need of Howard’s “guidance” until 25 instead of 21. Step 1: Get a fiance Step 2: ??? Step 3: Profit (Finally be free of Howard)

Unfortunately, Tony Stark is the worst con-artist ever, and may only be kidding himself..

Hot Mess:  @/niki

“Would serve him right if we had the world's most ill-advised one night stand.”

Imperceptions and Assumptions: @/NarutoRox

Afterward, Bucky would look back on their first meeting with fondness and a healthy dose of amusement. At the time, though, he’d mostly been confused - and more than a little embarrassed.

Bucky hadn’t paid much attention to the media in his early days, and hadn’t bothered really reading up on the team or anything, either, so when Steve had said ‘Tony Stark’, Bucky had just assumed.

The same way he’d looked at the three people who’d walked through the door - an imposing redhead in heels, a bored-looking brunette who dimpled when she saw him and Steve, and a sturdy-looking man wearing a slight glower - locked eyes on the man, and assumed him to be the infamous Tony Stark Steve wouldn’t shut up about.

It was Bucky’s first lesson when it came to Natasha Antonia ‘Toni’ Stark - never assume.

~

In which Tony Stark is actually Natasha Antonia 'Toni' Stark (which everyone knows) as well as Iron Man (which everyone does not know), assumptions are made, and there are misunderstandings.

From this prompt: How about a cross between my two favorite tropes? Nobody knows who iron man is other than Natasha/Antonia Stark's bodyguard but Bucky is in love with one or both of them

i know, you know (that i’m not telling the truth) : @imposter-human

psychic tony stark is called to work a routine case with detective bucky barnes; only, he seems to be more connected to the case than anyone thought

or, a psych au!!

the new romeo and juliet: @imposter-human

Bucky and Tony weren’t dating, because a firefighter and a detective couldn’t date (never mind that Tony hadn’t slept with anyone else since their thing had started, and he and Bucky hung out with an alarming frequency, and the whole precinct thought that they were an item). It didn't matter how many nights they spent together, how Bucky had a drawer of Tony's things and vice versa, they just couldn't.

It was a classic Romeo and Juliet situation, if Romeo and Juliet actively disliked each other on top of everything.

if found, please return to: @capnshellhead

Tony Stark shows up at Bucky's bar after a really tough break up and Bucky decides to look after him

gods of carnage:  @deathsweetqueen (part of a series)

On May 29, 1970, the Winter Soldier feels a burning sensation and looks down at his wrist to find a single name written in enduring ink: Antonia Margaret Stark.

HYDRA, fearing the defiance of their greatest asset due to a bond that cannot and will not be denied its due, immediately dispatches the Soldier, to locate, collect and deliver this newborn girl to HYDRA, which will become her new home, her new family and her entire world - to be raised as another one of HYDRA’s great warriors: their Engineer.

But the Engineer is a faulty asset. She thinks things that may get her killed one day. She wants things that she shouldn’t, that are not hers to want. She has a mind and body that belong more to herself than any handler, than any commander she may have.

And if she cuts her strings, when she cuts her strings, well, when you put sheep next to wolves, you ask for a bloodbath.

where i walk, you follow (where i burn, you burn):  @deathsweetqueen

At his father's command, Anthony Stark trades in his northern keep for a southern crown, wedded and bedded by Alexander of House Pierce, First of His Name.

Tony does his duty, becomes a wolf in name only, toothless and clawless, and a dark, gleaming ornament for the King, even if he would make himself a widower a hundred times over.

Honour demanded it of him, and so he did.

But it is Ser James Barnes, named the Kingslayer for his sins during the Rebellion, that draws his eye, gives him comfort in this pit of liars and monsters

So, what is honour compared to a good man's love? They are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love.

[Fic by deathsweetqueen, Art by MassiveSpaceWren]

Cat Parenting (And Other Meet Cutes):  @singingwithoutwords (this is an a/b/o verse fic)

Of all the ways Bucky could have finally gotten a chance to speak to his crush, why did it have to be his cat getting Tony's cat pregnant?

Codename Heartbreaker:  @rinnwrites (part of a series)

Today was a day that, contrary to popular belief, Tony Stark had most certainly not been looking forward to. It was election day, or election night, rather, and the polls were closed, the results were in; Howard Stark was the next President of the United States of America.

or

Tony Stark Bingo - R3: Election Day

Fate Strings Not Required: @akira-of-the-twilight

“Hey doll,” a new voice said from Tony’s side.

Tony glanced at the person approaching.

Someone was working the rugged, bad boy look. The new guy rocked a leather jacket and blue jeans.

His blue eyes lit up with joy as he approached Tony. “Something wrong here?” The new guy gave the first guy--the one insisting he was Tony's soul mate--a once over then turned his full attention on Tony. “You’re looking a little stressed, anything I can do?”

Tony took the hint.

Tony wrapped his hand around the new guy’s elbow. He kept his touch light and breakable in case he’d misread the cue.

“Just some guy claiming to be my soul mate, babe.”

The new guy’s eyebrows rose to his hairline in surprise. He chuckled and gave the first guy a smirk. “Strange. Last time I checked we were soul mates.”

Siren’s Treasure: @akira-of-the-twilight

Prompt: I really love the idea of playboy!Bucky flirt of the seven seas first-mate to Captain Rogers, falling completely overboard in love with our Blacksmith-Inventor Inexperienced!Tony who goes from confident captive to shy woe-begone man in the presence of Bucky's fierce affections. Virgin!Tony wonders what a siren like Bucky could possibly want with him. Bucky wants to know what the fuck Logan thinks he's doing flirting with the man who stole his heart like sunken treasures. Happy ending please?

“Sirens killed your crew?” Steve repeated.

The dark haired man nodded. Just an hour ago the Avenger crew had found the man clinging to driftwood in the middle of the ocean. Now he clutched the flask of rum Bucky had given him like it was all that kept him buoyant during these tumultuous times.

The man—Tony—had already downed more than half the flask and was still sober. “Not exactly my crew, but close enough. Yeah.” Tony uncapped the flask and threw back a mouthful.

Steve frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

Tony shrugged. “I wasn’t captain of the ship.”

“So what were you?” Steve pressed.

Road hazards: @riotwritesthings

Steve and Bucky's BFF road trip is not going well. For starters, Steve couldn't even make it, and for some bizarre reason asked Tony to take his place. The fact that it’s only a couple days before someone is trying to kill them isn’t nearly as stressful as the fact that Bucky and Tony have never really had an actual conversation.

It’s hard to avoid someone when stuck in a car with them though, and if they manage to stay alive they just might learn a thing or two.

Once Upon a Wintertime: @iam93percentstardust (this is an a/b/o verse fic)

Look, Bucky knows that he’s fulfilling every cliché in the book right now. He knows that, as a bodyguard, he’s not supposed to fall in love with his client. But Tony’s good and sweet and so, so lonely and how could Bucky not? He thinks he’s got a shot after Tony breaks up with his boyfriend but on a trip across the country, he finds out that Tony needs a bondmate or the board will steal SI—and Ty’s already said yes.

little bird: @thxngam

Bucky laughs, and it’s loud and unbidden, a way he hadn’t laughed for years before, tugging his giggling omega into his lap. Tony quiets and nestles into Bucky’s chest like he was made to belong there, and Bucky has noticed several times that Tony is much smaller than he is, but he never quite noticed how Tony always seemed to curl into him as a reason for his size.

Tony nestles like a little bird.

Teenage Dream:  @anthonyed

Tony Stark develops a crush on the school's bad boy who is too cool to hang out with anyone. At least, it's what Tony thinks. He never considered that James Barnes is probably as lonely as he is.

(in the process of editing)

The Best Laid Plans (of Mice and Men):  @arboreal-elm-ash-oak

His Dark Materials AU

It was Annalise who noticed their small visitor first.

“Tony,” the spider daemon said softly, skittering up the collar of his dress shirt, two of her eight legs resting delicately against his cheek, “Don’t startle them, but I believe we have a guest. Look, by the coffee table.”

A Kitten and a Soldier: @/ThatDamnKennedyKid

Bucky hadn't heard from Rumlow in years - since the whole Winter Soldier fiasco in Siberia. They've been discharged for nearly six years, but when he gets a message that only says "I need your help" , he grabs his jacket and keys.

The Prince’s Bride: @hddnone

After Tony loses the love of his life to pirates on the high sea, not much matters to him. He agrees to wed Prince Justin Hammer to gain access to vibranium and shut himself away in his workshop until the end of time, but a group of ruffians kidnap Tony to take him to Hydra.

Tony's rescue takes on an unlikely form - the Dread Pirate Rogers, who killed the love of his life five years ago.

A Princess Bride AU

A Kind of Destiny: @weethreequarter

A chance meeting at a wedding brings together an American war veteran and the Prince of Wales. Little do they know, the wheels have been set in motion for a relationship which will change not only their lives, but the monarchy itself. Bucky and Tony strike up a friendship at Steve and Peggy’s wedding, a friendship that soon develops into more. But it’s not so simple: Tony is the Prince of Wales, and heir to the throne of Great Britain and the United Kingdom. Any relationship is played out in the press and public eye, and then there's that pesky issue of succession to consider too. But Bucky is no coward, and when he finds something he wants, he’s prepared to fight for it. And fight he will, at Tony's side, for their very own fairy tale ending.

[harrylee94]

The Tournament - Chapter 13

You can find this on AO3!

Summary: "Was it not him who saved a knight from being trampled by his own horse? Who showed respect even to those he had defeated? Who treated children with respect, and even put himself between me and potential danger?"

"... It was, my Prince."

Notes: I swear to god I made myself cry writing this chapter!

TW for wounds sustained while walking long distances with no shoes on! Skip the second 2 paragraphs if you don't want to read about it!

Chapter 12

——————————————————————

"Come and accept your reward.” - Din

Din recalled the first time he’d ever seen Cobb Vanth when he was a boy. He’d been attending to his studies in his room when there had been a commotion outside. He’d heard his buir shouting orders, her voice echoing down the hall, and he’d ignored his tutor to look out the door.

His mother was walking down the corridor with what had at first looked like a bundle of wet leather and rags, but then he noticed the blood, and he realised that it was a child, maybe a little bit older than he was, and his feet were a blistered, bleeding mess. They didn’t see him, but he couldn’t look away until he’d been taken into the physician’s room nearby, which was when his tutor had taken him by the arm and pulled him back to his studies, closing the door behind them.

He’d asked his buir who the mysterious child had been, and she had explained that it was a boy from a town called Mos Pelgo, a settlement out on the dry plains almost two days’ ride away, and that it had been taken over by bandits. She explained that this boy had walked for almost twice that time to reach them, and that it had cost him more than just a few layers of skin on the soles of his feet.

Mandokarla, she had called him, and when Din saw him next, standing with a determined look on his face in borrowed boots and clothes, she’d said it again.

He couldn’t help but agree.

Riding with him had been awkward, mostly because he hadn’t known what to talk about; he didn’t know what this boy did or liked, didn’t want to ask about his family, and didn’t want to praise him for what he’d done in case it caused offence. When they’d settled down for the night though, he listened to him talk to his buir, listened to him talk about his interests, his likes and dislikes, and found he quite enjoyed listening to his voice, and asked a few of his own questions just to hear him speak a little more.

When they’d arrived too late to the town the next day, he’d been afraid that this boy would break, as his buir had told him so often happened to people who had suffered great hardships, but instead it had hardened him like steel in the flame. His suffering had stolen some innocence from him, but it had made him stronger.

Din had kept his distance after that, letting Cobb find his place in the world, allowing him the time to become who he wanted to be, but every so often he would go into the stables and enjoy the way he talked again, if only for a little while.

Somehow, years had passed like this, and while Din could never call what they had a true friendship, it sat fond and warm between them. His duties went from learning about how to run a castle and its kingdom to actually starting to do it, and the spare time he’d used to visit the stables had become vanishingly shorter. He had started to have to sustain their relationship with shared looks and small smiles.

But now that smile was in full bloom.

The joust between Ser Jaonar and the Krayt Dragon had been tense and difficult to watch, Din flinching at every hit the man he suspected to be the stable hand took, but then, after several agonising minutes, he’d won.

And he’d removed his helmet, revealing the man Din had suspected -- and wanted -- it to be. When their eyes met, Din could see shock in them, and, much to his surprise, fear. But what would he have to be afraid of? He had achieved a feat beyond what most would have ever imagined him capable of, and he had won a position of great honour. What was it that still troubled him so?

“Our champion; the Krayt Dragon!” Greef had called, and the crowds had stormed the field.

Cobb had been taken up by the people and raised onto their shoulders, being taken around the field much as Beryn -- the archery champion -- had been, and his smile had been bright and wide. Some of the crowd clearly recognised him, and they seemed to be the proudest of everyone. He noticed that Peli, the stable master, was among them, her smile the biggest he had ever seen as she applauded him.

The cheers roared into an almost deafening roar as the champion was brought back around to the stage, and Din rose to his feet as the man was deposited at the bottom of the steps.

He hesitated then, looking back over the crowd, but Greef was there at the top of the steps, offering his hand.

“Come, Krayt Dragon!” he said, his voice just audible over the ongoing cheers. “You are the champion! Come and accept your reward.”

Din saw a tightening around the edges of Cobb’s eyes, but the man accepted the hand and climbed the steps. Greef, having positioned the champion on one end of the stage, went to the middle and raised his hands for quiet. It took some time, but eventually the applause diminished enough for him to be heard.

“Vode, the Trials are at an end! I give you your champion!”

He waved at Cobb for him to step forwards as another round of cheers and whistles exploded, and he dutifully followed the instruction, though there was a stiffness about it that betrayed his discomfort.

“Krayt Dragon,” Greef continued once the noise had died down once again, “you have bested all of your opponents, and you have shown great honour in your conduct. Will you step forward to accept your reward?”

There was a pause, one longer than there should have been at this juncture, and then Cobb took a deep breath.

“I do not deserve the honour.”

What?

The crowd started murmuring amongst themselves, unsure what was happening, much as Din was.

“And why is that?” Greef asked, just as nonplussed as everyone else, but somehow still capable of words.

“... I am not honourable, sir,” he replied. “I entered the Tournament under a false name, I am not of noble birth, and…” He paused, his eyes flicking towards Din. “I’m not a knight.”

The murmurs grew, but Greef raised a hand again for quiet.

“Answer me this then; for what reason did you enter this Trial under a false name?”

Cobb shifted on the spot, looking out across the crowd, and then the nobles, before turning back to Greef again. "My answer might be offensive to some of those present."

"Answer anyway," Greef ordered, a hard edge entering his voice. Din noticed a few of the nobles were also becoming annoyed by his non-answers, but he felt that there was more than just Cobb's pride hanging on the line here. The hesitation now, even under pressure, only supported that.

"It… it came to my attention that certain… that some of the other competitors weren't…" He paused, glancing at the nobles again, but then he looked out into the crowd again, and he seemed to see something that made him set his shoulders. "Some of the competitors I know for a fact wanted to win so they might influence the Prince in their favour, and I knew that if I'd entered under my own name, then I wouldn't be taken seriously, or maybe even been kicked out of the Tournament altogether."

"Or… recognised?" Greef added, and Cobb nodded as the crowd murmured again in shock (and outrage in a few cases). "Then you entered this Tournament, not for your own want for fame or a need for recognition, but to protect the Prince from these threats?"

"... Yes, sir."

"Then please, tell us who you are so we might thank you for such a service."

The man hesitated again, but this time it was Din's turn to step in.

"His name is Cobb Vanth," he said, drawing everyone's eye, but it was only Cobb's that he met. "He is a stable hand at the castle, and he has shown more honour in the last few days than half the knights we've seen."

"My Prince-" the silver-haired man began, but he was cut off by one of the noble Lords, Ser Jaonar's buir in fact.

"This man has been posing as a knight!" he exclaimed. "How does a man like that hold any honour? Only knights could compete and he was clearly doing this for some unsavoury reason!"

Cobb seemed to shrink into himself, the Lord's words hitting him harder than Din would have expected, and something inside him snapped.

"At what point was the Krayt Dragon ever introduced as a knight?" he demanded, fingers curling around the hilt of his sword. "Where does it state that only knights can compete in the Trials? What law keep Vode from owning armour depending on their birth? Please, educate me on the laws of my own kingdom."

Lord Suum’anar spluttered, and several of the nobles around him backed away, though Bo-Katan -- who had watched the entire Tournament just a few meters from Din’s right -- seemed heavily amused.

"Was it not him who saved a knight from being trampled by his own horse? Who showed respect even to those he had defeated? Who treated children with respect, and even put himself between me and potential danger?"

"... It was, my Prince," the Lord said, shrinking much as he had made Cobb shrink, and it made something inside Din churn with pride at making the ostentatious idiot cower.

He nodded and smiled softly at Cobb, who was staring at him with wide eyes. "Mandokarla."

The word seemed to shock the man, and he started to blink a little more rapidly.

"Will you, Cobb Vanth, as champion of these trials, accept my offer and become my Protector?"

Cobb's mouth moved without words for a few moments before he managed to find his voice. "But… I'm not a knight. The Protector should be a symbol of honour, and a lowly stable hand isn't that."

"Is that what's holding you back?" Din asked. "This can be easily amended. Saruk?"

The Protector bowed. "I defer to your judgement, my Prince."

In other words, they agreed wholeheartedly with what he was about to do. He drew his sword.

"Kneel."

Cobb stared at him for a few moments, his mouth hanging a little open, but then Greef gave him a nudge and he stepped forward, dropping to his knee and bowing his head.

"For your actions of honour, for following the tenants of the Resol'nare, for taking the responsibility of protecting others for selfless reasons, and for defeating the best knights of the kingdom, I dub thee Ser Cobb Vanth of Mos Pelgo, knight of the realm, and head of Clan Krayt Dragon," Din said, tapping each of Cobb's pauldrons with the flat of his blade before returning it to its sheath to hold his hand out for him. "Rise, Ser Cobb Vanth."

The silver haired man looked up at him, his eyes wet and filled with such joy that Din couldn't hold back a wider smile any longer, and he accepted the hand in a warrior's grip, but when he tried to pull away when he was once again on his feet, Din only held on tighter.

"Now, are there any other obstacles keeping you from accepting your reward?" he asked. Cobb gave him a wordless shake of the head. "Then do you, Ser Cobb Vanth of Clan Krayt Dragon, accept the position of my Protector, to stand at my side through peace and war, to protect, guide and advise me when needed?"

The new knight visibly swallowed, then, with a squeeze of Din's wrist, he grinned.

"My Prince, it would be an honour and a privilege to serve you. I accept."

——————————————————————

*screaming*

Mando'a Translations:

Buir -- mother/father/parent

Vode -- brothers/sisters/siblings

Mandokarla -- ‘the right stuff’; this person personifies what it means to be a Mandalroian.

Resol'nare -- the Six Actions are the central tenets of Mandalorian life; Education and Armour, Self-defense, our tribe, Our language and our leader

Chapter 14

[leeimperatriz]

Sucesores / Successors

The pictures I show in the post are NOT mine, I found them in Google, they obvously belong to the artist that created them, (if you know who, please tell me, so I can put their well deserved credit here)

Todos sabemos quien es Hanzo hasta ahora. Él es un mercenario un asesino, formalmente heredero del Clan Shimada, viaja alrededor del mundo, buscando redención por sus pecados pasados.

... ¿Pero que tal si hay más?

¿Qué tal si Hanzo DE HECHO sea algo más y nadie lo sepa?

Un asesino, un fratricida, un señor del crimen.

¿Un padre?

.

We all know who Hanzo is at this point. He is a mercenary, an assassin, the former heir of the Shimada Clan, who is traveling around the world, seeking redemption for his past sins.

... But what if there is more?

What if Hanzo ACTUALLY is something else, and nobody knows it?

A murder, a kinslayer, a crime lord.

A father?

Paul Nakauchi (el actor de voz de Hanzo en el doblaje en inglés) dijo en un stream que le gustaría que Hanzo tuviera a alguien que ama con ternura y protegiera con fiereza.

Y muchos de los fans de Hanzo estamos de acuerdo con la idea, ya que no sólo nos da más información sobre él, sino que incluso podría ayudar en su desarrollo de personaje.

Muchos proponen que Hanzo tenga una pareja que ame, pero yo digo que sería más interesante que nuestro borrachín favorito tenga algo mas cercano a una pareja.

Sería más interesante que Hanzo hijos.

.

Paul Nakauchi (Hanzo's voice actor) said in a stream that he would like Hanzo to have someone he loves dearly and protects fiercely.

And many of Hanzo's fans agree with the idea, because it not only provides more information about him, but it could also help to his character development.

Many propose that Hanzo may have a couple that he loves, but I say it would be more interesting for our favorite depressed drunk to have something more than just a couple.

It would be interesting if Hanzo has children.

Hanzo puede ser la persona menos calificada para criar a un hijo, y ser padre sería una prueba muy grande, que lo desafiaria en todos los aspectos, ser un asesino tampoco le ayuda, ya que Hanzo no solamente tendría que preocuparse de su propia vida, sino también la de su hijo.

El Clan Shimada estaría muy contento de enterarse que el heredero traidor se las ha arreglado para tener un hijo, bastaría con matar a Hanzo y secuestrar a su hijo, luego podrían criarlo para ser el siguiente heredero, sus problemas se solucionan, y los herederos han regresado a su puesto, como si nada hubiera sucedido.

Akande también estaría bastante interesado en esa información, ya que podría usarlo para chantajear a Hanzo y hacerlo unirse a Talon, Doomfist incluso podría conspirar para "Atentar" contra la vida de su hijo, luego presentarse como el ángel guardián de Hanzo y convencerlo de que tiene las mejores intenciones.

Sombra estaría muy interesada en saber que ese asesino tiene un hijo, podría chantajearlo con revelar la información a Talon o a su Clan o a cualquier gobierno, y Hanzo de convertiría en su asesino personal.

Puede que a Genji solo le sorprenda, y se alegre de ser tío, pero Hanzo de igual forma desconfiaria de él, ya que casi le arrebata la vida, sería muy difícil para Hanzo permitir que Genji se acercara a su hijo sin confiar completamente en él.

Tener un hijo haría a Hanzo tener un punto débil, y hacerlo ocultar su existencia, para que a nadie se le ocurra acercarsele, le haría matar a quien no confíe, y se atreva a hacer más preguntas de las que debería, no importa si los considera amigos o no, los mataría sin dudarlo si estos descubren que tiene un hijo.

.

Hanzo could be the least qualified person to raise a child, and being a father would be a huge test, that would challenge him in every aspect, being an assasin doesn't help him either, because Hanzo no longer has to worry only about his own life, but his child's life as well.

The Shimada Clan would be very happy to find out that the traitor heir managed to have a kid, it would only take to kill Hanzo and kidnapp his child, then they could raise the child as the next heir, all of their problems get solved, and the heirs are back in their place, like nothing happened.

Akande would be very interested in knowing this information, because he could use it to blackmail Hanzo into joining Talon, Doomfist could even conspire to "Attempt" against the child's life, and then present himself as Hanzo's guardian angel, and convince him that he has the best intentions.

Sombra would be also very interested to know that such assasin has a child, she could blackmail him with revealing this information to Talon or the Shimada Clan or to any government, and make Hanzo become her personal assasin.

Maybe Genji would be just surprised and happy to find out he is an uncle, but Hanzo would still be suspicious of him, because he almost took his life, it would be difficult for Hanzo to fully thrust his brother, and let him get close to his child.

Having a child would make Hanzo have a weak spot, and hide his/her existence, just to make sure nobody would dare to approach his child, it would make him kill anyone he doesn't fully thrust, and would dare to ask more questions than they should, it wouldn't matter if they are friends or not, he would kill them without a doubt if they find out he has a child.

Incluso podría ser excelente para explorar la personalidad de Hanzo fuera del campo de batalla, podría mostrarnos como sería su día a día, tratando de ser el mejor padre posible, entrenando a su hijo para que pueda defenderse y enseñándole todo lo posible para que pueda ganar poder si quisiera.

Incluso podrían hacer que Hanzo tratara de ser el mejor padre posible... Pero acaba siendo un papá de mierda en el intento, estoy hablando de esos graciosos fails que le ocurren a los padres, ¿se imaginan a Hanzo haciendo esas clásicas bromas cringe que sólo un papá puede hacer?, ¿se imaginan a Hanzo dandoles LA CHARLA a sus hijos?

Imagínense que Hanzo no tenga sólo uno sino DOS hijos.

La idea de que acaben matándose entre ellos tendría a Hanzo aterrorizado y trataría de reforzar la idea de unidad de hermanos y los regañaria cada vez que peleen.

O imagínense que su hijo o hijos hayan heredado muchos aspectos de la personalidad de Hanzo... Para su disgusto, Hanzo tendría que enfrentar a pequeñas versiones de sí mismo: Sabelotodos narcisistas, gruñones y hasta mandones con otros niños, exasperandolo y haciéndole preguntarse si de verdad así era como actuaba.

Imagínense a Hanzo siendo refutado por sus hijos con la misma frase que le dijo a uno de sus enemigos ese mismo día. "Dios mio, ¿de verdad sueno así?" *Genji burlándose a la distancia*

Solo imagínense que tenga, no un hijo, sino una HIJA, tendría que enseñarle que debe ser fuerte y que el mundo puede devorarla si es tonta, tendría que aprender mucho de las mujeres, protegerse de los demás, los PERIODOS, y todo lo demás que abarca ser una mujer.

Sería muy interesante que Hanzo acabará siendo un papá soltero, teniendo que poner en práctica toda su paciencia y compasión para poder ser el mejor para sus hijos, y siendo una bestia al mismo tiempo para protegerlos.

Solo piensen en ese desastre.

.

It could be excellent to even explore Hanzo's personality outside the battlefield, it could show us his daily life, trying to be the best dad possible, training his child and teaching him/her everything he/she needs to gain as much power as he/she wants.

It could even show Hanzo trying be the best dad possible... And being a crappy dad instead, I'm talking about those fails that tend to happen to the fathers. Can you imagine Hanzo telling those cringy dad jokes that only a dad can tell? Can you imagine Hanzo giving his kids THE TALK?

Imagine if Hanzo had not only one, but TWO children.

The idea of them killing each other would terrify Hanzo, and he would try to reinforce the idea of brotherhood, unity and would scold them whenever they fight.

Imagine Hanzo's children inherited many aspects of Hanzo's personality... Much to his dislike, Hanzo would have to face small versions of himself: Smarty narcissists, grumpy and even bossy towards other children, getting Hanzo on his nerves, and making him ask himself if that's how he really acts.

Just imagine Hanzo being refuted by the same phrase he told someone the same day. "My God, is that how I sound like?" *Genji laughing at the distance*

Just imagine if he had, not a son, but a DAUGHTER, he would have to teach her to be strong and independent, and that the world will devour her if she is fool enough, he would have to learn a lot about women, self defense, how to raise a girl, PERIODS, and everything else about being a woman.

It would be really interesting to see Hanzo as a single dad, having to use all his patience and compassion to be the best for his children, and at the same time, fight like a beast to protect them.

Just think about that mess.

[lady-sapphire]

Sapphire's WiP Wednesday OC Introduction - Part II

New Wednesday, a new part of my OC introduction! Did I mention that all of my Dragon Age stories have their own World State? So, today's Fanfic is technically an AU to Light and Shield. Yes, I've written an AU to my own Fanfic. Yes, I'm crazy. Yes, I'm riding the polyamory trope in this one. Sorry not sorry. :D

The Commander's Ruby (orig. title: "Der Rubin des Kommandanten")< (main idea: I wanted to write porn/smut and BDSM with Mina as a Sub. But my Light and Shield!Cullen didn't fit for that role. On AO3 is a fantastic BDSM-series with a guest appearance of Knight-Captain Rylen (look here!) and I couldn't get this idea out of my head. And now here we are!)

Oh, TW rape and PTSD for the following, people!

Mina Russelton

Regarding appearance, background and personality, Mina is mostly the same person as in Light and Shield. The differences are: she has more scars on her skin because of Ser Albert's brutality, some really special quirks (e.g. avoiding taking things in her mouth, don't like being touched or feeling wood in her back) and her PTSD has a far more impact on her character at the beginning of the story. She has nightmares, flashbacks, panic attacks and tends to self-harm under pressure. Also, she sometimes shows small cognitive impairments. She was made violently infertile at the age of twenty-three and healers told her she would never have children of her own.

The Inquisitor sides with the templars and disbands the order. Her fate would be to become a slave of Tevinter. Instead, she flees from Redcliffe to the Inquisition where she meets Cullen.  (my headcanon) Cullen is much more sexually experienced and also more self-confident, he is dominant and his character development is more advanced than canon as well. He knows the failures of the Templar-Order, the Chantry and himself and wants to do better with the Inquisition. As commander, he is determined to protect the mages that have already joined the Inquisition, which means he has to find the mage hating and guilty templars in his army and render them harmless. He also suffers from his own PTSD and the lyrium withdrawal. 

When Mina arrives in Haven, he recognizes her and takes on the task of protecting her. She remembers the friendship they had back in her childhood and starts trusting him. She becomes battle mage of the Inquisition. Cullen falls in love with her. However, he hides it because of her past in the Circle. He is sure she will never reciprocate it just as never having sex at all. In particular, considering his special kinks in bed. But their relationship grows deeper and deeper. When the Inquisition settles in Skyhold he publicly announces that they are romantically involved, primarily to keep Mina safe and unmolested. He is truly surprised when she confesses she developed romantic feelings for him. So, their relationship is general knowledge. Not everyone takes this well at first.  Cullen works a lot for her sex education and she slowly starts discovering her own sexuality and battling her trauma. She is submissive (and quite kinky actually) and becomes Cullen's pet.  The discipline as a Sub helps her a lot in controlling her magical power. Cullen arranges for her a (secret) short time affair with his best friend and second-in-command Rylen, which leads to them falling in love with each other and ends up in a triangle relationship.

Because of her openly known romance with Cullen Mina has a close connection to the inner circle of the Inquisition. She hates the attention she receives as Cullen's partner and tries to avoid it. Nevertheless, she has to deal with the responsibility for the mages, which she reluctantly accepts.  In Halamshiral she gets announced as "Lady Commander Mina Russelton, former member of Fereldan Circle and battlemage of the Inquisition". She will never get rid of the title of Lady Commander.

Cullen calls her Love, his pet name for her is Kitten. Rylen names her Sweety (I'm still indecisive about the translation of Rylens german nickname for her). In the barracks, they call her Commander's Ruby because of her red hair, his protectiveness (and the fact, that she sometimes smooth Cullen's mood with sex, so he is a little more lenient with the recruits). She has a fondness for Starkhaven whisky and likes to snack nuts because they're small and easy to eat.   Thanks to Cassandra and Cullen Mina is well trained and a real horror on the battlefield for enemies. Besides fighting with her staff and staff blade, she is later able to handle small daggers. Varric mentions she is good at breaking noses of cheeky soldiers.

And again, important supporting characters under the cut! :)

2. Ser Raphael

Look here!

3. Telven Lavellan

Herald of Andraste and later Inquisitor in The Commander's Ruby. He is an archer rouge, Tempest specialisation and romances Josephine (after having a crush on Solas who rejects him). His plan to bring the Templar-Order under the control of the Inquisition and then offer an alliance to the mages fails because of Corypheus and the Venatori. He is allergic to injustice and oppression (and bullshit), judges Cullen's past at Kirkwall's Circle harshly but supports him in becoming a better man and getting trough his lyrium withdrawal.  Telven likes Solas but can't stand his ancient elven-superiority-shit.  He makes softened Leliana Divine. Varric calls him sometimes Tree Cuddler.

4. Bella Thornten

She is a mage from Ostwick and spirit healer. She becomes responsible for Mina's health after she arrives at Haven and is one of her very first friends. 

5. Flora

Flora is a middle-aged mage from Starkhaven and Mina's roommate in Haven. She is one of the Inquisition researchers, lesbian and keeps an eye on Mina. Later she teaches her a bit of Starhaven accent and culture. Flora is often Mina's first point of contact for questions of all kinds.

6. Ser Albert Dubois

For his character and background look here!  He is part of the templars that get committed by the Inquisition. He can hide at first, but Mina recognizes him at Haven and panics. She decides with Cullen’s help to do a testimony about his crimes which leads to some mages follow suit and a lot of arrests. The Inquisitor later judges and executes him. 

7. Lillith Mahariel

Hero of Ferelden and Warden-Commander of Fereldan Grey Wardens, in a relationship with Leliana and currently on the search for the cure of the Taint. Two-Weapon-Rouge who is completely oblivious to the fact that Alistair felt hopeless in love with her (he never said anything as he didn't want to bother the luck of his friends. Leliana knows anyway.) Named her mabari Pumpkin. Sometimes luckier than wits but has a good heart. 

Thoughts, ideas and questions are highly welcomed! :)

[skyblueaus]

ashtale

this is an au that I made myself ,I like him very much and I hope you like it too

                                                       𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 after the monsters were sealed underground two humans fell there and the son of the king and queen found them and he took them to their parents the humans explain that she had jumped there on purpose because they didn't want to live with the humans and so toriel and asgore adopted the two humans and they became asriel's sisters one day the queen and the king decided to take their daughters to see the gaster the real scientist, they would do some experiments to find out how their souls work gaster's eldest son was going to keep 3 vials, two with determination and one with hatred and accidentally sans he slipped on something and broke the vials and passed out when sans woke up he saw that next to him there was a clone of his soq he had some purple spots that looked like tears good gaster had explained that when he broke the bottles he ended up creating a clone of him, he may be a lot like sans but it was just a little bit of his appearance well sans and his clone became good friends over time and sans didn't like that his best friend was called a clone then gave his name purple, sans told purple the saddest day of his life /                                              Traducción                                                              / Después de que los monstruos se sellaron bajo tierra, dos humanos cayeron allí y el hijo del rey y la reina los encontraron y se los llevó a sus padres.los humanos explican que ella había saltado allí a propósito porque no querían vivir con los humanos, por lo que toriel y asgore adoptaron a los dos humanos y se convirtieron en las hermanas de asrielun día la reina y el rey decidieron llevar a sus hijas a ver al gaster, el verdadero científico, harían algunos experimentos para descubrir cómo funcionan sus almasel hijo mayor de gaster iba a guardar 3 viales, dos con determinación y uno con odio y accidentalmente sans resbalar en algo y romper los viales y desmayarseCuando sans despertó, vio que a su lado había un clon de su soq, tenía algunas manchas moradas que parecían lágrimas. Gaster le había explicado que cuando rompió las botellas terminó creando un clon de él, puede que se parezca mucho a sans, pero fue solo un poco de su apariencia.bien sans y su clon se hicieron buenos amigos con el tiempo y a sans no le gustó que su mejor amigo fuera llamado clon y luego le dio su nombre purple, sin decirle a purple el día más triste de su vida                                           𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐍 one day gaster was talking to her husband who was grillby, he was a very talented doctor, one day gaster grillby and his son sans were in front of the core talking and then ... grillby stumbled and fell into the core being excluded from the line of time Un día, Gaster estaba hablando con su esposo, quien era Grillby, él era un médico muy talentoso, un día, Gaster Grillby y su hijo estaban frente al núcleo hablando y luego ... Grillby tropezó y cayó en el núcleo al ser excluido del linea de tiempo                                           𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐟𝐟 there was a tree where purple and sans were talking about how much gaster worked, one day sans promised to take care of him no matter what happened because he loved him and purple promised to love him forever and one day sans had to travel with his younger brother papyrus in the meantime two things happened, one of the humans got sick, the human who got sick was a chara and she would probably die in embreve and the queen and the king took her to the gaster so he could do something and the only solution was for the humans to merge so they don't die and then after a long drive the king and queen accepted the solution after Chara and frisk merged they became a new being called charis and that was very difficult for the royal family but after a while they were fine with it and good gaster lost control of his sanity and started experimenting with the sans clone against his own will causing his head to split and his soul and to become only half of that clone's soul, so tired purple decided to commit suicide by jumping at the core right after sans come back he went to see his dear friends but they were not chara nor frisk but charis and he talked a little with her and went to see his father and the purple and there ... he was angry with what his father had done and angry because his father had made his best friend and love of his life commit suicide and angry he took gaster's soul and went to talk to charis for her to reset but charis said that the world was totally lost and there was nothing she could do and then they would decide to leave that world and go to erase and they jumped on the core and ended up void and found out all about the other aus and the two ready they managed to end what was left of that world but charis and sans separate and sans lost his memory charis found his au's grillby who got stuck in a void and he wore a jacket that held him with his hands cuz agr everything he touches he disintegrates but only with his hands and cuz he has panic attacks and charis took care of him while looking for ash sans bon charis i managed to find sans but he wasn’t alone he was with his clone that was supposed to be dead but actually when purple threw himself into the core he was just thrown out of that au purple is merging with sans, he convinced sans to do this because he would remember everything when they were merged and that he needed help because he was weak and only had a soul and different from charis they can melt anytime they want había un árbol donde Purple y Sans hablaban sobre cuánto gaster funcionaba, un día sans Prometió cuidarlo sans importar lo que sucediera porque lo amaba y Purple prometió amarlo para siempre y un día sans tener que viajar con su hijo más joven. papyrus hermanoMientras tanto, sucedieron dos cosas, uno de los humanos se enfermó, el humano que se enfermó fue una chara y probablemente moriría en un ataque y la reina y el rey la llevaron al gaster para que él pudiera hacer algo y la única solución era para que los humanos se fusionen para que no mueran y luego, después de un largo viaje, el rey y la reina aceptaron la soluciónDespués de que Chara y Frisk se fusionaron, se convirtieron en un nuevo ser llamado Charis y eso fue muy difícil para la familia real, pero después de un tiempo estuvieron de acuerdo.y  Gaster perdió el control de su cordura y comenzó a experimentar con el clon sans contra su propia voluntad causando que su cabeza se partiera y su alma y se convirtiera en solo la mitad del alma de ese clon, por lo que el cansado purple decidió suicidarse saltando en el core, después de que regresara, fue a ver a sus queridos amigos, pero no eran chara ni frisk, sino charis, y habló un poco con ella y fue a ver a su padre y al purple y allí ... estaba enojado con lo que su padre tenía hecho y enojado porque su padre había hecho que su mejor amigo y amor de su vida se suicidara y enojado, tomó el alma de Gaster y fue a hablar con Charis para que ella restablecierapero Charis dijo que el mundo estaba totalmente perdido y que no había nada que ella pudiera hacer, y luego decidirían abandonar ese mundo e ir a borrar y saltaron al núcleo y terminaron vacíos y descubrieron todo sobre los otros aus y los dos. listos, lograron terminar lo que quedaba de ese mundo, pero Charis y sans se separaron y sans perdió su memoria, Charis encontró a su Au Grillby que se quedó atascado en el vacío y llevaba una chaqueta que lo sostenía con las manos porque todo lo que toca se desintegra, pero solo con las manos y porque tiene ataques de pánico y Charis lo cuidó mientras buscaba ash sans, Bon Charis, logré encontrar sans, pero no estaba solo, estaba con su clon que se suponía que estaba muerto, pero en realidad cuando Purple se arrojó al centro, fue expulsado de ese au.el purple a se está fusionando con sans, él convenció a sans de hacer esto porque recordaría todo cuando se fusionaron y que necesitaba ayuda porque era débil y solo tenía un alma y diferente de charis que pueden derretir en cualquier momento que quieran                                              𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒                           𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑅𝐼𝑆 ( 𝑎𝑠ℎ 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑠ℎ 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑘 )

your name is charis is 17 years old your skills are to summon poisonous knives and create a red shield and fly she cares a lot about her friends, she also sees purple (sans clone) as a younger brother despite being older, she is super protective with her friends, she is very passive even when they hurt her family, she hates spiders and loves to talk to purple, she is very sweet and affectionate with her friends tu nombre es charistiene 17 añostus habilidades son convocar cuchillos venenosos y crear un escudo rojo y volarse preocupa mucho por sus amigos, también ve a purple (sans clon) como un hermano menor a pesar de ser mayor, es súper protectora con sus amigos, es muy pasiva incluso cuando lastiman a su familia, odia las arañas y le encanta hablar a purple, ella es muy dulce y cariñosa con sus amigos                                              PURPLE (sαns clone)

he is 20 years old

the coat he wore was a gift from ash sans

he likes to drink vodka

he likes to flirt with his sans and the other sans, he tries to make everyone laugh and is very affectionate and super attached to his sans, he hates all the gasters that exist Él tiene 20 añosel abrigo que llevaba era un regalo de ash sansle gusta beber vodkale gusta coquetear con sus sans y los otros sans, intenta hacer reír a todos y es muy cariñoso y súper apegado a sus sans, odia todos los gaster que existen                                                     αSH SαNS

24 years

he got that way because of the core, he has two hands just like gaster because he stole his soul and he lost one of those arms when he fell on the core and so he has a tentacle instead of an arm

he does not remember much of his life, he only remembers until he lost his father grillby good agr he is taking care of his father then everything is fine with him, he gets along very well with the purple but does not know how to react when he flirts he is not very close to charis but he likes her

he has the personality of classic sans plus that of fell together 24 añosse  puso así por el núcleo, tiene dos manos como gaster porque le robó el alma y perdió uno de esos brazos cuando cayó sobre el núcleo, por lo que tiene un tentáculo en lugar de un brazoél no recuerda mucho de su vida, solo recuerda hasta que perdió a su padre por la buena salud, está cuidando a su padre, entonces todo está bien con él, se lleva muy bien con el purple pero no sabe cómo reaccionar cuando coquetea, no está muy cerca de Charis pero le gusta ellaél tiene la personalidad de sans clásico más la de caer juntos                                                  αsh grillby

is 45 years old

he wears a sweatshirt with black strings to prevent him from touching things and helping with his panic attacks, he really likes to be with his son sans, for him sans is the most important person for him

after suffering an accident he stopped being orange and went black and I touch him he disintegrates

he has serious problems with anxiety and sleeping at night although his ex husband was an idiot he would still forgive him but would never love him again, he has a crush on starnight!gaster tiene 45 años usa una sudadera con cuerdas negras para evitar que toque cosas y lo ayuda con sus ataques de pánico, realmente le gusta estar con su hijo sin él, para él sans él es la persona más importante para éldespués de sufrir un accidente dejó de ser naranja y se puso negro y lo toco se desintegraTiene serios problemas de ansiedad y de sueño nocturno.aunque su ex esposo era un idiota, aún lo perdonaría pero nunca lo amaría de nuevo, está enamorado del starnight!gaster                                                         𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐬:                   levy ( fusion  purple αnd sαns)

him or them, you can call levy however you want, there's not much to say about him so he loves himself very much él o ellos, puedes llamar a levy como quieras, no hay mucho que decir sobre él, por lo que se ama mucho                                     αsh chαrα αnd αsh frisk ( designer)  

I don't have much to say about them so they are sisters No tengo mucho que decir sobre ellos, así que son hermanas.

                                                 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 I spent three hours writing this, I hope you guys like my au a lot, I have two more to present to you soon, I intend to do comic books or animations of this au someday, thanks for reading Pasé tres horas escribiendo esto, espero que les guste mucho mi au, tengo dos más para presentarles pronto, tengo la intención de hacer cómics o animaciones de este au algún día, gracias por leer

[talesofafangirlwithadvr]

February Picks

And just like that another month is coming to a close. I can’t believe how fast it has gone by. I’ve continued watching some favorites from last month and am sad some have come to an end. Meanwhile a bunch of shows came back from their winter hiatus, so it was a lot of fun getting back into their story-lines again.

Be prepared for spoilers once again...

SANDITON

Masterpiece’s Sanditon ended this past Sunday, here in the states, and I am jumping on the campaign that we need a season 2! It can’t end like that with so many open ended story-lines (okay maybe just one or two, but still we deserve more). 

Who would have guessed that Esther would become one of my favorite characters in this series and that’s mainly thanks to her well written character development. From the “villain” in episode 1 she grew into so much more and was such a complex character. I really enjoyed watching her story unfold. I am SO HAPPY she married Babington and his speech to her about living side by side, knowing he loves her more and just wants to see her happy. Wow....Goals. I want to see this relationship progress even more (if that’s possible) with a season 2. Speaking of things I want to see: Will Sanditon be rebuilt and how long will it take? Will there be an alternative allowing Sidney to be with Charlotte? Major twist there as their relationship doesn’t end with a happily ever after (very un-Austen like for the main protagonists). When he returned at the end stopping Charlotte’s carriage, I seriously thought he would have said he broke up his engagement, but alas. The previous episode I really wanted them together (thanks to Sidney’s speech to Charlotte when he told her his ex-fiance left and how Charlotte makes him a better person *melts* and of course their dancing scene the episode prior was amazing). In the early parts of the season, while I knew Charlotte and Sidney would be a thing-eventually, I couldn’t help but have a soft spot for Young Stringer’s character and my appreciation never truly left. I felt he was paired well with Charlotte. Such a tragic ending for him. He wanted to better himself (much like the Parker brothers) but after his father’s death he no longer will. Throughout the series, I enjoyed Miss Lambe’s character, but I agree with many reviews that I was reading that her character was kind of dropped at the end. I’m curious what her reaction will be when she finds out about SIdney’s engagement...

Thank you again, Andrew Davies. I was not expecting to like this adaptation so much.    

ZOEY’S EXTRAORDINARY PLAYLIST

The best way to describe one of NBC’s latest shows is that I feel happy and in a good mood whenever I finish an episode. (And then I’m immediately upset that I have to wait a week for the next one. I watch them too fast.) I’ve heard many people compare it to Glee and while I could definitely understand that I keep getting drawn back to Abc’s short lived Eli Stone. There Eli (played by Jonny Lee Miller) could hear people around him sing and dance, which helped him solve upcoming law cases. In this show he was experiencing a brain tumor, but so far Zoey seems all clear. Instead, a freak accident while she is getting an MRI scan and listening to music, allows for her to hear people sing (and perform) their innermost feelings. There’s still some logistics to discover like what Zoey looks like when she watches these performances (does she move around or look like she’s just staring into the air. I might be thinking into this too much...I know). We just recently found out that sometimes she can speak to others as they are happening. Each time she hears someone sing she is meant to help them with something in their life. It could be a family member, co worker, friend, or like this past week her boss. While there’s one major problem (that she has to fix), there are often multiple songs in one episode which I really enjoy. The cast is also very strong, both musically and as actors. I can’t wait to see where the rest of the season is headed!

TO ALL THE BOYS P.S. I STILL LOVE YOU

When the first film was released on Netflix about 2 years ago, I was instantly a fan. I was unfamiliar with the book, but quickly added to my TBR list. (My to read list is extremely long, so I still haven’t gotten to it. Story of my life.) I really enjoyed watching Lara Jean experience the results of having her secretive love letters distributed to her past crushes. I was definitely Team Peter and Lara by the end of the film. They were adorable. The sequel was released earlier this month and I kind of forgot about it. It felt like we had been preparing for the sequel for a bit and then I must have been watching too much Disney Plus to miss the trailer. Watching P.S. I still love you, I just missed the original film. There were parts I liked and I was a big fan of John Ambrose (and of course Jordan Fisher because he’s great), but overall I felt like much didn’t happen. Also, Lara and Peter’s relationship kind of bothered me in parts. I understand that for both of them this was the first time they were in this kind of relationship and could feel awkward about certain things (like the Valentine’s singing-gram or writing an original poem). The main part I did like about them was towards the end when he arrived at the retirement home. I don’t say this often, but I have no want to re-watch it any time soon.   

VIOLETTA SEASON 1

Speaking of Disney Plus....

In a quick month and a half I have successfully watched ALL 80 episodes of season 1 of Violetta. I feel so accomplished and know the withdrawal will happen very soon. (I just finished last night and I’ve been listening to the music a lot recently). I’m so upset that season 2 has not be released on Disney Plus yet. I thought it would be by now because the streaming service has been up for a good amount of months and this show was so popular around the world. Unfortunately, I have not been lucky with my Google searches for when they’ll release it and no luck with YouTube either (no English caption options). I’ve been hearing that season 2 is really great because season 1 did a nice job of establishing these characters and now we get to see more story-lines. I will miss the students and teachers at the Studio as well the home-life at the Castillo’s house. Throughout 80 episodes it’s understandable to love and hate several characters as you’re with them for a good amount of time. For some people it was a roller coaster, but there were a good amount that I liked pretty consistently. I am a fan of Violetta and Leon and they had some super cute moments. I think it was about episode 35 where I truly felt like connection. When Tomas left the love triangle for a bit I actually grew to like him and would often joke how he never smiled and had a Tomas face. I really liked You Mix and the introduction of Frederico. Some great songs came out of that section like Ven y Canta and Tienes el Talento, but my favorite is definitely Ser Mejor. And of course, I will always have love for Pablo. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m going to miss reading subtitles (I really do feel like I know more Spanish now). Definitely check out this show if you want something drama filled and funny at the same time. 

LEGACIES

I know I dedicated a whole post to Chris Wood’s return as Kai Parker on Legacies. (See the article here:https://talesofafangirlwithadvr.tumblr.com/post/190761328673/omg-legacies-2x12) But I still had to include it in this wrap up because once again Legacies is doing a great job this season. I was so excited to see it when it came back from the mid-season hiatus. Since the return of Wood it has gotten more of a TVD vibe than usual, which is great. I haven’t watched the last episode, but have seen a clip of Kai masquerading at the school. I am going to be very interested to see for how long he hangs around and how long it takes for them to discover him AND how Josie handles the evil inside of her. 

BROOKLYN NINE NINE

Thank goodness this show got renewed (and picked up from NBC). When it started a couple of weeks ago, I was reminded how much I missed it. I can’t get over that this is already the second season on NBC. As usual the hi-jinks of the Nine Nine have been entertaining to watch. The Jimmy Jab games were great. I loved how Hitchcock was so desperate to win that he was taking Scully’s array of pills. What an ending with Debbie! Did not think she could be capable of that. I can’t wait to see the outcome next episode. I’m so excited for a Santiago-Peralta baby. It was a great episode when they were hiding it from Charles and Adrian returned. I’ve seen the movie Memento and it is great! It was hilarious each time he was like, ‘I don’t know what that is’ and then saying ‘Finding Dory’ solved everything. I am so happy that this show was suggested for me to watch and fill my Office and Parks and Rec void. Whenever a new episode’s on the DVR I can’t wait to watch it.      

LEGENDS OF TOMORROW

And last, but certainly not least, DC’s Legends of Tomorrow has once again not disappointed me this season (I know it’s still early, but I’m optimistic). It started at the end of January following the events of Crisis and I liked how this season transitioned with all the changes (the major one being the introduction of Zari’s brother). I am really happy to see her again though and how she is having these flashes of her old life on board the Wave-rider. I can’t wait to see that reveal happen (especially because as of right now only Nate knows the ‘truth’). I love seeing Ava as a permanent part of the Legends crew and as stepping in as Captain when Sara was away. She is a great addition and I like how quirky she is since we first met her. Her and Sara are perfect. I also love Ray and Nora. Nora as a fairy godmother is fantastic. One of my favorite episodes was the one with the 80s dance. Her role in all of that was great and her realization with what she can provide for these kids. I feel like this is going to be the reason Ray leaves the Legends. I remember seeing Brandon Routh’s Instagram Post about leaving the show and this feels like the reason he will. I hope that isn’t for a while though because I am going to miss him a lot. 

Until March!   

[rawiswhore]

Various WWF Wrestlers x Fem Reader- “Cumdumpster”

I hope I haven’t titled a fanfic with that word already!

________________________________________________________________

In 1997, you're really branching out and showing your true colors, especially in the WWF.

And you don't mean WWF as in World Wildlife Foundation.

But how can you not branch out?

Not only are there so many hot men in the WWF this year, there are men in the WWF who are getting hotter and sexier in the looks department.

The majority of the roster knows what a huge slut you are, especially after that gangbang you had involving men you think are the sexiest men in the WWF this year, and you have another idea involving these men.

You've told these hot wrestlers your idea one day while you and the other wrestlers were having free time, and they loved this idea.

One day, sometime after that outrageous gangbang involving Shawn Michaels in your pussy, Davey Boy Smith's cock in your ass, etc. and a time when RockaBilly (who would later become Billy Gunn) had his natural blond hair again and wrestled with former Smoking Gunns partner Bart Gunn, you were sitting on Shawn's lap while Shawn was sitting his ass on the locker room's bench, you were completely naked, bouncing and riding up and down Shawn's erection.

Your back was pressing and in front of his torso, his hands were fondling and feeling your breasts.

Hunter Hearst Helmsley was standing in front of you, you were busy sucking on his cock.

Unlike in the WWF, his hair was hanging long and loose, no ponytail, no hair tied behind his hair, no little braids in his hair, just letting his long, beautiful locks hang loose and free.

Standing next to Hunter and swarming around you was Rob Van Dam, Davey Boy Smith, Jeff Hardy, Bret Hart and RockaBilly, whose cocks were all pointing in your face.

You were jerking off Jeff and Rob's erections with both of your hands, their shafts locked in the grasp of your fingers and hands.

Sometimes, you rotated and turned your knuckles on their shafts as your fists went up and down their cocks.

Meanwhile, RockaBilly, Davey, and Bret were masturbating their dicks aiming at your face, some of their precum spilled down their shafts and launched on your face, which is what you wanted to happen.

You've actually been introduced to this style of porn known as the "glory hole": a type of porn where someone is in a tight area, usually a bathroom stall, and there are drilled holes in the walls where men poke their penises through and people suck their cocks, get fucked and sometimes even do both.

You have thought of drilling "glory holes" in the bathroom stalls, but bathroom stalls are so nasty, unsanitary and germ infested, plus, what if someone's taking a shit in one of the stalls? Yuck.

Instead, you've decided to do something similar to it.

Not to mention, you have also thought of inviting 3 other WWF wrestlers to be in this orgy, those wrestlers being Brian Pillman, Bob Holly/Spark Plugg and Jeff Jarrett.

Basically, wrestlers who are debatable if they're attractive or not.

Then again, Billy Gunn is debatable whether or not if he's attractive or not!

You decided not to let these 3 "acquired taste in the attractiveness department" wrestlers join you.

You're moaning on Hunter's shaft while you suck it, swallowing all of his precum.

Your moans on his cock is making his penis feel a buzzing sensation, which feels so good for him.

He's leaning his head back, his eyes are closed and making quiet little groans from his mouth.

While you're riding Shawn's erection, his head is buried in the back of your neck, kissing you quite heavily behind your neck as well as on the sides of your neck.

He's also kissing you on top of your shoulders.

Not only are Bret, Davey and RockaBilly jerking off on your face, they're also directed the tips of their penises to your tits, too bad Shawn's hands are cupping your breasts, fondling and squeezing them as well as playing with your nipples.

While Shawn playing with your tits is fine, you also want some cum, at least precum anyway, to splash on your breasts.

Before engaging in this orgy, you instructed Shawn to play with your tits for a little while, but not for too long.

You aren't just sucking on Hunter's cock, but you're also licking up his shaft, licking and sucking on his penis like it's a Popsicle.

While you're jerking off Rob and Jeff, two of the other hottest men in the WWF, their heads are leaning back, these 2 guys are breathing heavily over you masturbating them.

While D Generation X might've formed a few months later after this orgy, Shawn Michaels did do DX's iconic "suck it" crotch chop gesture to other wrestlers backstage even before DX were formed.

And you're surprised Hunter isn't doing DX's "suck it" gesture to you.

Wonder if the catchphrase that goes with that body language even existed in the summer of 1997?

Shawn could see some men standing in front of you wanting to aim at your tits, and he remembered your advice.

His hands slipped off of your breasts and slid down your body to your hips, his touch giving you tingles over his hands roaming down your skin.

He placed his hands on your hips and held onto them.

Bret, Davey and RockaBilly saw that finally Shawn's hands weren't covering your tits, so they finally aimed their dicks towards your barenaked breasts, still masturbating.

Their precum wasn't just spilling down their erections, but also hitting your tits, what you wanted.

While you're getting fucked by various wrestlers in something straight out of a porn, some other wrestlers are watching and observing all of this.

Some of them are shouting "yyyyyyyyeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!" and wolf whistling at you like some drunken football fans, others don't bother to care.

Some are shouting "get a room!".

Fuck off, you thought.

While sucking off Hunter is wonderful and all, there's other wrestlers you want to suck off.

When your mouth reached the top of Hunter's cock, you turned your head towards Jeff Hardy's erection.

You leaned your face into Jeff's cock, your mouth open enough for his dick to slide in there, letting his penis enter your mouth, and began sucking on his shaft.

You didn't just suck his cock, but also swallow his precum, as well as lick up his shaft.

Your fingers were still wrapped at the bottom of his shaft, but they weren't cranking up and down his penis.

Your mouth, meanwhile, was sucking only above where your fingers were wrapped around his shaft.

Though, you'd love to suck on his entire cock.

Hunter, meanwhile, began jerking his cock off in front of your face, his precum spilling down his shaft as well as some of it getting on your face.

When your mouth reached the tip of Jeff's cock, you used the tip of his penis as a lipstick, where you rubbed his penishead across your top and bottom lip.

Strange, but whatever.

He felt his cock rub on your lips, which made him look down and open his eyes, looking down at you, only to see you rubbing the tip of his dick on your lips like it's lipstick.

His precum was actually lubricating your lips, even.

You unwrapped your fingers off of his shaft and began helping jerk off RockaBilly, cranking your hand up and down his shaft.

Rockabilly, on the other hand, kept switching pointing his dick at your face or your tits while you sucked off Rob.

Speaking of Rob, you've probably jerked him off for a long time, so you unwrapped your fingers off of his shaft and wrapped them around Hunter's cock next, where your hand helped pump his erection.

Since you informed Shawn it's okay if he rubs your tits, his hands elevated from your hips up to your breasts, where he began to caress the precum on your tits.

Seeing precum being rubbed on your breasts made your tits look shiny under the buzzing lights on the ceiling.

That's definitely a turn on for some of these male wrestlers, but they shouldn't cum now.

Shawn didn't just caress and fondle your breasts, but also tweaked your nipples with his index fingers and thumbs, as well as roll the tips of his index fingers over and over on your areolas.

Sometimes the pads of his fingers rubbed and caressed your areolas and nipples back and forth, which felt so good.

So good, that because of riding Shawn's cock for quite some time, you've officially came, your cum spilling down Shawn's shaft inside your cunt, your clit throbbing like a heartbeat.

Though, it ain't over 'til you say it's over.

While you're jerking off two other wrestlers, Rob and Jeff now are jerking off their dicks on the sides of your face, their precum hitting your face.

You, on the other hand, have wrapped your mouth around the tip of Rob's cock, where you've let his shaft enter further into your mouth.

Your throat is swallowing Rob's precum, your tongue licking up his shaft as well as on top of his penishead, your hands aiming Hunter and RockaBilly's cocks at your face and your tits.

You want to do to the tip of Rob's cock what you previously did to Jeff's, though, your hands are busy pumping up and down Hunter and RockaBilly's cocks.

Shawn was getting tired of rubbing your tits, plus, you want Hunter's precum to land on your tits, so Shawn removed his hands off of your breasts and put them on your hips, where you then aimed Hunter's cock at one of your breasts.

"You're so fucking dirty" Rob purred, his voice husky and warm. "Such a filthy, cock addicted slut"

"Your cock is so tender, so juicy" you mumbled, his cock still in your mouth, licking up his shaft.

He has a nice cock and all, but there's other cocks you need to suck on.

You turned your face to RockaBilly, unwrapping your fingers off of his shaft, Rob's cock leaving your mouth, where you where you proceeded to suck on RockaBilly's cock this time.

You've also jerked off Hunter's dick for too long, so you wrapped your fingers around Davey's shaft, the other fingers around Bret's shaft.

Like the previous 2 men, you weren't just sucking RockaBilly's cock, but gulping down his precum, licking up his shaft, licking his dick like a soft serve ice cream cone.

Your tongue roamed up and around his shaft, trying to get all of the cum off of his dick and into your mouth.

Hunter, meanwhile, proceeded to jerk his cock off on your face as well as on your tits.

Jeff and Rob were busy jerking off next to your face as well as pointing their dicks to your breasts.

Jeff has been jerking off as well as has gotten a hand job for quite some time, quite a long time, that he officially came on your face, his face scrunching up and his eyes shutting tight when he came.

Thank God your eyes were closed, that way cum won't get in your eyes, that stings AF.

While you've sucked these men's cocks tonight, the tips of their penises as well as some of their shafts were protruding through your cheek.

You actually want to suck off these men's cocks before they all officially cum as well as before Shawn cums as well.

Not realistic, but whatever.

You're trying to lick and suck the cum off of all of these men's penises.

You probably haven't licked all of the cum off of RockaBilly's cock, but whatever.

You then moved your face to Bret's penis, RockaBilly's cock transferring out of your mouth, and wrapped your mouth around Bret's cock, where you began sucking on his shaft.

Your arms were growing tired and hurting from all that masturbating, you're pretty sure you've gotten a bit of a workout from jerking off these men's dicks!

A throaty, gravelly groan came out of Hunter Hearst Helmsley's mouth, his face tightened as if he was in pain, and some gooey little liquid hit your face.

Yup, he came.

Ah well, when you gotta cum, you gotta cum!

While you were sucking on Bret's cock, you licked up his shaft from the bottom of his cock to the top of his penishead, sucking and gulping all of the precum off of his dick.

While you sucked on Bret's cock, your head and mouth was going up his shaft, as well as when you sucked the other men's cocks.

Lo and behold, just a few minutes after Hunter had came, Rob did it, his cum getting on the side of your face and even in your hair.

But you aren't finished yet.

While sucking on Bret's cock is fun and all, you have to suck someone else's cock before Shawn cums...

Who's cock is it? Davey Boy Smith.

Your face pulled away from Bret's erection, a string of your saliva was attached to the tip of Bret's penishead, and you moved your face to Davey's cock, letting his penis enter your mouth, where you proceeded to suck on his shaft.

And like the previous men, you sucked the precum off of his shaft and swallowed it, licking up his shaft.

Throughout this sex session, if you weren't sucking on someone's cock, your hands have been gripping on to different men's shafts and stroking their cocks.

Sometimes, if a man had already cum, you used his cum as a lipstick and rubbed it up and down your lips while sucking someone else's cock.

Pretty soon, Shawn's hands gripped on tightly to your hips, the tips of his fingers digging into your flesh.

His face tightened, his eyes shut tightly, his mouth and teeth grimacing and he released a throaty, gravelly groan from his mouth.

Yup, he came right inside of you.

His seed implanted in your twat, his sperm is swimming into your uterus, but it's gonna get blocked by your birth control, hopefully!

After Shawn had came, a few minutes afterwards, RockaBilly came, and a few minutes after RockaBilly, it was Davey Boy Smith and then Bret Hart!

After they all had cum on you and you were drenched in cum on your face, in your cunt and on your tits, you sucked off all of these men, cleaning the cum off of their dicks with your mouth and tongue, swallowing it.

You also used all of their penises as lipsticks after they all had came, rubbing the tips of their penises across your lips.

Tonight, you do somewhat wish that you could've let Shawn fuck you on the floor while you jerk off and suck off other wrestlers, but the floor is so nasty and germy.

With all of this severe and constant amounts of sex you've been having with most of the WWF wrestler, you're probably going to end up turning these male wrestlers into sex addicts.

Not to mention, even though in 1998 and 1999, you'd be at the height of your popularity in the WWF and your character you played in the WWF was a slutty, oversexualized nymphomaniac who fucked around with 90% of the roster, surprisingly, you didn't have a lot of promiscuous sex when the cameras weren't rolling in those 2 years, save for a few times.

Remember those "Shopzone" photos in WWF magazine, that would have images like D Generation X sitting around with hot dogs, Kurt Angle dressed in a Boyscout uniform with other boyscouts that were actually prepubescent boys, the Dudley Boyz after they've smashed Santa Claus through a table, etc.?

Well, you eventually had a "Shopzone" image in 1999, that was of you crouching down on the ground with several implied male wrestlers in the WWF swarming you, and you could tell which wrestler was which by their outfit, but you couldn't see them above their stomachs.

And all of these wrestlers had their hands at their fly area of their pants, unbuttoning and unzipping, preparing to get their cocks out and wank off on you.

________________________________________________________________

I actually have thought of typing this fanfic as a "glory hole" fanfic where Shawn Michaels and other WWF wrestlers invite the female reader to a bathroom stall with holes drilled in the walls and she sucks and jacks off their cocks through those holes, but I'm afraid this fanfic would be considered to be too gross and nasty.

I'm also somewhat afraid this fanfic is similar to the fanfic set in December 1997 where the fem reader rides up and downs Shawn's penis while she jerks off Billy Gunn and Jeff Hardy's dicks and sucks Triple H's cock in front of her.

 I was going to upload this fanfic yesterday, but there were some edits I wanted to make to it tomorrow (and I might edit this fanfic in the future).

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

How can you like daenerys

Quite a lot of reasons, actually. For the sake of my time, I’ll limit my answer to ten of them.

1. She tolerates disrespect in her own court.

“We are all dead, then. You gave us death, not freedom.” Ghael leapt to his feet and spat into her face. 

Strong Belwas seized him by the shoulder and slammed him down onto the marble so hard that Dany heard Ghae’s teeth crack. The Shavepate would have done worse, but she stopped him.

“Enough,” she said, dabbing at her cheek with the end of her tokar. “No one has ever died from spittle. Take him away.”

How many leaders and rulers in ASOIAF would have tolerated being spat on in their own court? Not many, I’m sure. 

2. She’s witty.

“Little girl, another woman once tried to geld me with her teeth. She has no teeth now, but my sword is as long and thick as ever. Shall I take it out and show you?”

“No need. After my eunuchs cut it off, I can examine it at my leisure.”

3. She’s a creative and resourceful ruler, despite having never received any sort of training, unlike the majority of other leaders.

“Not a hole. A ditch, to bring water from the river to the fields. We mean to plant beans. The beanfields must have water.”

Ser Barristan remained. “Our stores are ample for the moment,” he reminded her, “and Your Grace has planted beans and grapes and wheat. Your Dothraki have harried the slavers from the hills and struck the shackles from their slaves. They are planting too, and will be bringing their crops to Meereen to market. And you will have the friendship of Lhazar.”

4. One of, if not the most, compassionate ruler in ASOIAF who is determined to take care of her people, despite what her advisors might say.

“Ser Jorah, you say we have no food left. If I march west, how can I feed my freedmen?”

“You can’t. I am sorry, Khaleesi. They must feed themselves or starve. Many and more will die along the march, yes. That will be hard, but there is no way to save them. We need to put this scorched earth well behind us.”

Dany had left a trail of corpses behind her when she crossed the red waste. It was a sight she never meant to see again. “No,” she said. “I will not march my people off to die.” My children. 

It was time, though. A girl might spend her life at play, but she was a woman grown, a queen, a wife, a mother to thousands. Her children had need of her.

Daenerys considers the people under her rule her children. That says enough about her compassion for others.

5. She’s pragmatic and a great military strategist, again despite having no formal training in these matters.

“Ser Jorah Mormont scowled. “You told the sellswords-”

“-that I wanted their answers on the morrow. I made no promises about tonight. The Stormcrows will be arguing about my offer. The Second Sons will be drunk on the wine I gave Mero. And the Yunkai’i believe they have three days. We will take them under cover of this darkness.”

“They will have scouts watching for us.”

“And in the dark, they will see hundreds of campfires burning,” said Dany. “If they see anything at all.”

“Khaleesi,” said Jhogo, “I will deal with these scouts. They are no riders, only slavers on horses.”

“Just so,” she agreed. “I think we should attack from three sides. Grey Worm, your Unsullied shall strike at them from right and left, while my kos lead my horse in wedge for a thrust through their center. Slave soldiers will never stand before mounted Dothraki.” She smiled. “To be sure, I am only a young girl and know little of war. What do you think, my lords?”

The following is describing Daenerys’ conquest of Meereen. Meereen’s walls have no weak points, the Harpies heads can squirt hot oil, and all the trees were burned by the slavers to prevent Daenerys from being able to build weapons. Daenerys doesn’t want to order the Unsullied to assault the wall directly because it would lead to pointless loss of their lives (courtesy of the boiling oil from the Harpies heads). So instead:

“Aegon the Conqueror had won Westeros with three dragons, but she had taken Meereen with sewer rats and a wooden cock, in less than a day. Poor Groleo. He still grieved for his ship, she knew. If a war galley could ram another ship, why not a gate? That had been her thought when she commanded the captains to drive their ships ashore. Their masts had become her battering rams, and swarms of freedmen had torn their hulls apart to build mantlets, turtles, catapults, and ladders. The sellswords had given each ram a bawdy name, and it had been the mainmast of Meraxes-formerly Joso’s Prank-that had broken the eastern gate."

6. She's willing to and makes an effort to learn, and learn she does.

Dany reined in her mare and looked across the fields, to where the Yunkish host lay athwart her path. Whitebeard had been teaching her how best to count the numbers of a foe. “Five thousand,” she said after a moment.

“A queen must listen to all,” she reminded him. “The highorn, and the low, the strong and the weak, the noble and the venal. One voice may speak you false, but in many there is always truth to be found.” She had read that in a book.

7. She’s brave. Anyone who has the balls to face a dragon with only a whip is far more courageous than a considerable number of characters. And before anyone says,“the dragons wouldn’t hurt her no matter how angry they get, she’s their mother,” yes they would. Drogon tried to kill her.

His head turned. Smoke rose between his teeth. His blood was smoking too, where it dripped upon the ground. He beat his wings again, sending up a choing storm of scarlet sand. Dany stumbled into the hot red cloud, coughing. He snapped.

“No” was all that she had time to say. No, not me, don’t you know me? The black teeth closed inches from her face. He meant to tear my head off. The sand was in her eyes. She stumbled over the pitmaster’s corpse and fell on her backside.

8. Her idea of what it means to rule is extremely idealistic, even after all the exploitation she’s suffered. By intentions alone Daenerys is already a far better candidate as ruler than most other leaders in the books.

“I was alone for a long time, Jorah. All alone but for my brother. I was such a small scared thing. Viserys should have protected me, but instead he hurt me and scared me worse. He shouldn’t have done that. He wasn’t just my brother, he was my king. Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can’t protect themselves?”

“Some kings make themselves, Robert did.”

“He was no true king,” Dany said scornfully. “He did no justice. Justice... that’s what kings are for.”

She would rather have drifted in the fragrant pool all day, eating iced fruit off silver trays and dreaming of a house with a red door, but a queen belongs to her people, not to herself.

She believes it’s her duty as a queen to protect her people and bring justice. In Dany’s eyes, a queen must put her people first, herself second. You’d think someone who suffered under the hand of her cruel and abusive older brother, who she also considers her king, and then exploited and sold like an animal by him to a barbarian tribe, would make a thirteen-year-old girl quite jaded about rulers. But Daenerys still wholeheartedly believes that rulers should be selfless, protect their people, and bring justice, though the people who had power over her in the past did none of those things for her.

9. She’s intensely self-critical.

That morning she summoned her captains and commanders to the garden, rather than descending to the audience chamber. “Aegon the Conqueror brought fire and blood to Westeros, but afterward he gave them peace, prosperity, and justice. But all I have brought to Slaver’s Bay is death and ruin. I have been more khal than queen, smashing and plundering, then moving on.”

“You have brought freedom as well,” Missandei pointed out.

“Freedom to starve?” asked Dany sharply. “Freedom to die? Am I a dragon, or a harpy?” Am I mad? Do I have the taint?

“A dragon,” Ser Barristan said with certainty. “Meereen is not Westeros, Your Grace.”

“But how can I rule seven kingdoms if I cannot rule a single city?” He had no answer to that. Dany turned away from them, to gaze out over the city once again. “My children need time to heal and learn. My dragons need time to grow and test their wings. And I need the same. I will not let this city go the way of Astapor. I will not let the harpy of Yunkai chain up those I’ve freed all over again.” She turned back to look at their faces. I will not march.”

What sort of mother lets her children rot in darkness?

If I look back, I am doomed. Dany told herself... but how could she not look back? I should have seen it coming. Was I so blind, or did I close my eyes willfully, so I would not have to see the price of power?

Mother of dragons, Daenerys thought. Mother of monsters. What have I unleashed upon the world? A queen I am, but my throne is made of burned bones, and it rests on quicksand. Without dragons, how could she hope to hold Meereen, much less win back Westeros? I am the blood of the dragon, she thought. If they are monsters, so am I.

There is blood on my hands too, and on my heart, We are not so different, Daario and I. We are both monsters.

Bless me, Dany thought bitterly. Your city is gone to ash and bone, your people are dying all around you. I have no shelter for you, no medicine, no hope. Only stale bread and wormy meat, hard cheese, a little milk. Bless me, bless me.

Now we must keep in mind that Daenerys’ chapters are told from her POV. They are not objective by any means. The fact that she’s so self-critical in these quotes (and more) does not mean she can never be a good ruler. It’s a human thing to magnify your failures and judge yourself much more harshly than the others around you, and this is well-communicated on Dany’s POV. 

Daenerys was trying to change a system that has been in place and served as the economic foundation of Slaver’s Bay for countless years. It’s an extremely radical - even revolutionary - change. There’s not a single character that would have been able to work that situation out smoothly and without bloodshed. Yet Daenerys never takes this into consideration, she simply blames herself.

The fact that she’s so self-deprecating reveals a lot about Daenerys. For one thing, she clearly doesn’t attempt to mentally shift the blame off of herself when things go awry. This means that she’s self-aware and willing to take responsibility for her actions. Being self-critical is also something I can very much relate to, so I empathize with Daenerys here.

10. She freed slaves.

I can already hear the storm of antis crowing that she did an awful job, which is ridiculous and I dare them to do any better. When such a revolutionary change is brought about, there is simply no way it’s going to go smoothly. Like I said before, there isn’t one character in ASOIAF who would have flawlessly handled the situation Dany was in.

The “white savior” argument is also something I find odd, because slavery in ASOIAF is not race-based. Among the slaves Daenerys liberated, there were Lyseni, who are blonde-haired and blue-eyed.

I love the fact that Daenerys, despite being a queen, empathizes with the lowborn. She’s experienced the same things they have - mistreatment, fear, exploitation, to name a few - in a time that she had no say about what happened to her, like them. When she does gain power, she does her best to use it primarily to help others. 

“I will not let the harpy of Yunkai chain up those I’ve freed all over again.” She turned back to look at their faces. “I will not march.”

“Enough.” Dany slapped the table. “No one will be left to die. You are all my people.” Her dreams of home and love had blinded her. “I will not abandon Meereen to the fate of Astapor. It grieves me to say so, but Westeros must wait.”

[7deadlycinderellas]

If the summer of our lives could just come again, ch 17

AO3 link

 King’s Landing

Robert hasn’t even been dead two days before Joffrey dismisses Ned, and Sansa and him are turned out. The snow has barely had a chance to settle on the ground.

They are given a day to pack their things.

A tiny part of Sansa’s heart is sad. There are fond goodbyes of course, Tommen hugs her as tightly as though he were her own brother.

Tyrion is even more despondent. Joffrey’s selection for his replacement hand is, of course, Tywin Lannister.

“Couldn’t you convince him to send you back to Casterly Rock? I mean, if he dislikes having you around so much…”

“I’m afraid he distrusts me possibly taking control of Casterly Rock more than he dislikes my face.”

Sansa gets lost in thought at that. She’s unsure who even would have ended up warden of the west had the dead stayed dead. She knows there are Lannisters scattered about the whole region, one she’s never heard of likely.

She pauses a bit before her next line.

“Why don’t you ever leave? You’re a clever man, there’s a whole world outside Westeros where no one knows you as Tywin Lannister’s son.”

Tyrion exhales noisily, and sets down his glass.

“No one may now me as that, but the whole world will still take one look at me and see a fool or a toy.”

She thinks her next words over, thoroughly.

“We have a mutual friend,” she tells him, “A friend with a great many legs. One who considers his greatest loyalty to the whole realm. You should ask him about our friend overseas. She needed your help before.”

Tyrion actually looks confused for a moment.

“You got shipped there is a crate before, hiding in disgrace. That might not be necessary. You could sail away a free man.”

Her next words are grim.

“There’s enough horrors to come to Westeros that I would flee if I could.”

Throughout the rest of their goodbye, a sweet ache forms deep in Sansa’s chest.

“I…I’m going to miss you. Promise me something?”

“Anything,” he tells her, his voice nearly breathy. It’s an odd sound coming from him. He was always good at playing things off, but not this.

“If you hear tell of monsters coming from the north, run.”

She reaches into one of her pockets, pulling out the roll of paper she’d scribbled hastily that morning.

“Dragonglass can kill them. Valyrian steel too. There’s a blacksmith in Flea Bottom named Mott, there’s instructions in here, he can follow, but…”

There’s tears pricking at the back of her eyes, and her words are stumbling.  It’s not just because if the others reach this far south, it means the north has fallen, fallen so far she can scarcely imagine.

Before Tyrion can react, she reaches out and grasps the fingers of his right hand, raising his knuckles and pressing her lips to each of them in turn, much as he had once before.

The act calms her enough, that when she rises to her feet, her words are more steady.

“You never caught my words for their meaning. My father did, but you didn’t. I said Tysha was your first wife, you never asked me who your second was.”

She turns and leaves, without stopping to look at his face. An errant tear creeps down her cheek. She wipes it off.

Whatever feelings the encounter stirred inside her are pushed down by what happens later that morning.

Sansa and Ned are waiting near where their horses are being packed, when they approached by a flustered looking Brienne and Shireen.

“Have either of you seen Lord Stannis?”

“He left yesterday after supper,” Sansa tells, “To retrieve his men and head for the Wall to aid the Night’s Watch.”

Brienne curses. Sansa’s never heard her do that before, and it shocks her.

“Renly’s rushed off. There’s reports of Ironborn ships attacking Shipbreaker’s Bay. Some of them men have swum ashore and are attempting to lay siege to Storm’s End.”

Sansa is astonished.

“What are they stupid? That could garrison a whole army in that hold, and withstand siege for at least a year. And if the storm’s don’t take it out, raiders certainly can’t!”

She’s heard tell that the Kingsmoot ritual involves drowning the participant for a time. Perhaps that ritual has done a number on their brains.

Brienne shakes her head.

“I know. But Lord Renly didn’t want Shireen anywhere near it, I was going to take her back to her father-”

Ned interrupts,

“They left by ship, there’s no way you’ll catch them in the winter weather, and the Wall is no place for a girl.”

Brienne looks lost for a moment, before Ned continues.

“Come with us. We can put the two of you up in Winterfell for a time. It’s a hard season, but we manage every winter, and we’ll be closer to her father than she is if she stays here. We’ll send a raven a head once we leave.”

He regards Brienne,

“You are the girl’s sworn shield correct?”

Brienne nods, solemn.

“Then you should know that this is likely the safest route we can take.”

And after a time, Brienne agrees.

When her and Ned begin to work out the logistics, Sansa moves and takes Shireen’s hand. The girl is quiet, but her hands are shaking.

This is going to be harder than she imagines.

 Winterfell

Blizzards drive them inside.

Northerners can still work in snow, they know the snow, the landscape. But a true blizzard, with thick snow and fog and wind and deep,deep darkness will drive even the most hardy of them cowering for shelter.

It was in one of these deep blizzards that Robb drew up his letters to their bannermen.

Davos had returned some moons before, with a ship full of evacuees and a  nightmare.

He has a flashback to something Osha had asked them when they were ferrying the first ship full south.

“Do you have a family, Davos?”

She never called him ser, but he never minded truly.

“A wife and seven sons.”

“And you’re fine with being here with all of this, instead of with them?”

Davos had shaken his head.

“Of course I’m not. I miss all of them every day. But my wife is one of those rare women who is content being by herself, and my eldest is old enough to have his own family. I’m filling a need here, helping these people stay with their own families, and trying to protect my own from afar.”

That had been the first of the four voyages he had made, expertly avoiding the Night Watch partrolled waters, hold full of refugees. He never let them off in the same spot twice. A few he expected, even tried to sail off on their own, into the open sea.

He told them the story of an entire Free Folk coastal settlement completely overrun by the others. How the wights had piled up upon each other until they could climb the walls of the city, with no care that they were getting crushed under each other and just kept coming.

They didn’t have to be told about it. Jojen had woken up screaming that morning, with a vision he couldn’t tell from a nightmare. They weren’t sure if it had been Hardhorne, but it had sounded just like it.

“And we still don’t know what’s become of Jon,” Arya tells him, hugging herself, “He hasn’t been at Castle Black in years.”

“He wasn’t there,” Davos tells her grimly, “If he had been I’d have sought him out. It was chaos, no one leading, no one guiding. I just shoved as many as I could on the ship, thanked every god I could think of that they can’t swim and fled.”

“We’ll start sending weapons to other keeps,” Robb tells him grimly, “Along with orders that every able man, woman and child to be trained in their use. Take some of the free folk with you to help begin the training.”

“Tell them,” Bran adds, “To make up lists. Add the names of anyone too old, young or sick to train.”

“We’ll start planning, see if we can identify safe places to evacuate them to if the wall is breached.”

Bear Island has become a possibility, since Davos has reminded them that the dead do not swim. After the death of Jeor Mormont in the mutiny at the wall, Dacey and Alysane Mormont had come to Winterfell to seek acknowledgement of their mother’s continued rule.

They had met no resistance at this, but when given the same instructions that the Stark’s other sworn house’s had been given about dealing with fleeing wildlings, they had been met with mirth.

“Wildlings used to try to raid our island, “ Dacey had said, “Now even the Iron born know better. We can do what you say, but I don’t any of them are still foolish enough to try fleeing to our little island.”

“You may be surprised,” Robb tells them grimly, “Most of them seem to be fleeing to whatever’s south of where they currently are.”

Arya watches the two of them from the side of the room, wondering if Lyanna would have resembled them when she grew up. She knew both Alysane and Dacey had been killed at the red wedding. Neither them or their mother had husbands, they all swore their children had been sired by bears.

And with a sudden spark, Arya wonders if she could ask one of them if one of these bears had had red hair and a long beard.

The blizzards also stopper news. Even Bran can’t guide his ravens through them. They have no idea what’s occurred in the capital since Robert’s death. This is one of the few times in his second life that Bran has missed the ability to see through the weirwoods.

And with the onset of winter, Arya is suddenly quite grateful for her mother’s insistence that she marry.

She occasionally will grumble will Gendry wraps her in her arms, his head over hers and his legs bracketing hers.

“Why do you always get to be the big spoon?”

“Cause if I let you be the big spoon I’ll end up missing a limb one of these mornings.”

Her childhood bed is slightly too small for the two of them, but in winter the crowding is welcome.

One morning, when they rise, Gendry spies a fairly dark mark she’d left on his shoulder the night before. It’s not the first- a few weeks prior Robb had leaned in close to examine a pink love bite on his neck, and then backed away, horrified, when he’d recognized it for what it was, but something about it niggles at him.

“I think you can see teeth here…Something bothering you?”

At her bewildered look he clarified,

“I know they call you a she-wolf, but your teeth don’t usually come out unless you’re upset or scared.”

In the old days, so long ago it seemed, she had put up a tough facade, but then melted atop of him. It had been fun to discover that Arya, who fought so hard to keep her outside cold, loved to be held and kissed gently. But when the dead had kept rising and people had kept dying, her kisses got harder, her hands gripping tighter, often leaving him increasingly black and blue. He hadn’t minded, not particularly, except for what it made him think of her mental state.

She sighs, and moves to kiss the mark, trying to soothe it away.

“I didn’t realize that having everyone I loved back would leave me even more scared of losing them again.”

Gendry throws an arm across her back, running his fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck.

“What was that thing in High Valyrian? That thing that weird red and white haired fucker said when he got us out of Harrenhal?”

Arya laughs, “Valar Morghulis. All men must die.”

“Seems a bit morbid to me, but that’s the point I guess. We’re all going to have to die eventually. But you have us all here again.”

Arya’s face looks unconvinced, but she steps back to pull off her shift and begins dressing without another word.

When the blizzard finally passes, everyone in Winterfell has gone stir crazy. Enough for even Gendry to ask to join some of the others to go with Meera and Jojen to go forage for mushrooms.

It’s a bright clear day, and the sun is high in the sky when they’re turning over logs and digging out tree trunks to look for growths to examine and see if they looked edible.

Gendry had never known there were so many kinds of mushrooms, looking through his sack at all the different sizes and shapes. Though, he thinks as Jojen finds a small, spotted one, looks at it and shakes his head, he never really realized how deadly the wrong ones could be either. It wasn’t something that ever came up in King’s Landing, and when on the road, it had never occurred to him to even bother with mushrooms.

They’ve all been out maybe an hour, when Jojen stops suddenly.

When he falls over into the snow, it’s Arya who reaches him first. She rolls him over, runs a hand over his mouth and nose, and then under his chin.

“He’s breathing,” she assures Meera. The other girl’s face has gone ashen, and she’s standing stiff, pulled tight like a lute’s string.

“Rickon, run back to the keep, have them bring Maester Luwin down to meet us,” she says, in a single breath.

Before Gendry can move, and before Rickon’s even out of sight, she moves and grabs Jojen under his arms,

“Gendry, help me,”

He finally snaps out of his haze, and goes to help, and between the three of them, they manage to life Jojen, who remains motionless. He’s not too heavy, but he’s long, and his boots make his feet harder to handle.

It takes doing, but they weren’t too far out, so they get back to Winterfell quickly enough. When the guards Rickon has alerted come out and take Jojen from the three of them, Gendry feels his muscles burn as they go slack.

Arya grabs his hand quietly as they step aside. Meera stands at the end where they had dropped him and she looks frozen to her spot, and like she might fall over herself.

Bran hadn’t gone with them, for obvious reasons, but having been drawn out of the keep by the ruckus, he awkwardly makes his way to join them.

He approaches Meera quietly, and when he reaches out to gingerly touches her hands, she heaves and presses her face into his neck.

Gendry feels Arya pull his hand, and whisper, “leave them be.”

Her voice when she speaks again is incensed, but her face has that same faraway look it had the morning he’d questioned her biting him.

“Jojen better be pretty sick if he scared us that bad,”

“Are you going to yell at him when he wakes up,”

She shakes his head,

“I’m going to set Mother on him.”

The next time they see Jojen is the next day when Meera goes to bring him his supper. Maester Luwin tells them he has a fever and a bad chest infection, and shouldn’t have gone outside. He plies him with ointments to ease the cough he wakes with and makes him a tea to help the fever.

He also still looks suitably terrified by whatever it was Lady Catelyn said to him.

It’s a few weeks later, when Gendry’s by himself in the forge, when Jojen asks if he can come in and sit for a while.

Even this long after, his cough is lingering, so Gendry tells him,

“Sure, but you should stay by the door away from the smoke.”

He sits quietly for a while, reading a book he’s brought with him.

“You’re from the capital right?”

Gendry nods, “Grew up in Flea Bottom, Biggest slum in the whole place.”

“Someplace with that many people, is there anywhere you would go if you got sick?”

Gendry laughs wryly.

“Barely. If you were lucky you might know an old woman who knew about healing or someone at a tavern who was used to sewing up brawl wounds. Mostly if you got sick enough you just died.”

Jojen’s face at this point looks an awful lot like what Arya’s occasionally has.

“After Lady Catelyn scolded me…throughly, I asked her how the maesters learned all they did about helping the sick.”

He’s never met one before Luwin, but even Gendry knew about the citadel. He also knows that no maester would bother himself with the problems of the common folk.

“It’s a big undertaking,” Gendry says, “You basically have to give up your whole life to become one.”

“And that’s stupid,” Jojen replies, forcefully, “Why should they keep all the knowledge just for themselves? People get sick everywhere. Lords have to pay to receive one at their castles, that’s why we don’t have one at Greywater Watch.”

He’s quiet for a bit longer, then admits.

“It didn’t surprise me at all when Meera told me I died young. I always thought I would. In the swamp, it’s much the same. You get sick enough and you just die.”

Gendry thinks long on his next words, before saying.

“Valar Morghulis,”

Jojen nods, having learned enough High Valyrian to know the saying.

“Sounds like an excuse if you ask me.”

 Over the Wall

The boy is walking steadily, pointing and babbling when Gilly finally decides on a name for him.

Jon had told her about his friends at Castle Black, and she had liked the sound of the name Aemon. It makes Jon’s heart twinge, wondering if one of his only remaining relatives was still living, but happy to know he would be remembered if not.

“It’s not so bad,” she tells him, “Lots of us don’t name our babes until they walk. They die too easily when they’re small.”

The cave really isn’t a good place for a young child, but it’s safer than above ground. And when Aemon begins to talk, he begins to whisper the same words Jon does.

These are the words Rowan has begun teaching him. Maester Luwin had taught all of the Stark children High Valyrian, but Jon doesn’t believe it ever sounded like this coming from him. He recalls his words sounded stiff, practiced. Luwin had waved them all on, saying that reading it was more important. The words the trees speak are different. It’s like they speak in all the senses.

Ygritte had listened to them one day, and said they didn’t even sound like words.

“Almost sounds like you’re singing.”

Sometimes Jon sits and listens to the wind outside the caves, blowing through the trees that dot the hillside. Singing seems an appropriate word, he hopes that what he sounds like.

Gilly and the other’s don’t always make it back for supper, their map-making taking time, though their paths through the caves are unobstructed. Sometimes Ygritte leaves and hunts something to roast. The moss Rowan seems to favor doesn’t seem to do much to bolster a human’s strength. She dries some, and sends them with Henneh and Petra, Gilly’s youngest sisters. When she gives it to them, sometimes they’re gone overnight.

Jon still feels overwhelmed, and one day, he finally asks Rowan,

“So, what’s the endgame for this? What is it all for?”

Rowan looks contemplative, and reaches out to touch his hands.

“What brought you over the wall Jon Snow?”

He is confused,

“Duty? Following my commander’s lead?”

Rowan smiles, almost amused.

“Why specifically?”

Jon pauses for a long time.

“We were hoping to find my uncle Benjen and the other rangers who’d gone missing. And to find out why the wildlings were fleeing their villages.”

Rowan nods. She reaches out and touches the root of the dead tree.

“All of the trees speak the same language, and they all speak to one another. Perhaps you could ask them if they had seen your uncle?”

The question should be bizarre, but it’s become almost normal.

“This one’s dead, will it be able to answer?”

Rowan shakes her head.

“But I can take you to one that will.”

The journey isn’t far, it’s down one of the close caverns Gilly has already mapped. The little weirwood is barely larger than the one Rowan had rooted, maybe a few years. Its trunk is skinny, and it’s only maybe ten or twelve feet tall.

When he realizes he must look apprehensive, Rowan touches him.

“Go ahead. It’s not a person, it can’t take offense.”

Jon’s words whisper his memories of his uncle. His height, build, his long hair. Who his parents were, his siblings. These words become his image, his voice giving shape to his very self.

Jon is so shocked when the tree responds he nearly falls over. Listening he finds, is easier than speaking. Maybe it always was.

He doesn’t see it, not really, not in the way he’d heard Bran speak of his visions. It’s like he was there, and he’s remembering it.

He remembers seeing Benjen being surrounded by the others. He recognizes their piercing blue eyes without a word. He remembers them pierce his heart. He remembers him fleeing, beginning to turn blue himself. He remembers Rowan, as clear as she is standing beside him right now. He remembers seeing her take him by the hand, to one of her caves.

When Jon pulls himself out, he asks her,

“He’s still alive.”

“For want of a better word. He is not whole, but he is still himself.”

Jon feels a weight lift off his chest as the two of them make their way back to the main cave.

They make more journeys out to the weirwood, sometimes day after day in a row, when Rowan feels Jon needs to work on his speech, or she remembers something she feels he needs to see more than others.

He spies Gilly and the others carrying rough crosses.

“Iron and dragonglass,” Rowan acknowledges, “I buried one far north. They are doing the same south towards the wall. If we get them in the ground before they manage to breach it, then they shouldn’t be able to keep rising. The long dead should stay down.”

Before? Jon thinks, more than a little alarmed.

One night, he returns from his lessons to only a fire and Ygritte.

“No one else back yet?”

Ygritte shakes her head. She’s holding a sword.

Jon feels the back of his neck prickling.

“Where’d you find that?”

“One of these caverns. Rowan said it belonged to the tree-man who lived here before. More fun than the axe.”

Brynden Rivers, Jon recalls, is what she had said was the original name of the man who became the Three-Eyed Raven. A bastard, just like him.

He goes to take a look at the handle, and something about the blade catches his eye.

“May I?”

She shrugs.

The weight gives it up.

“This is Valyrian steel,” he tells her, astonished, “Like Longclaw. There’s less than a dozen of these left in Westeros.”

“So a good find?”

He recalls his siblings telling him to hold tightly to Longclaw, because it could destroy Others.

“Hold onto this,” he tells her, passing the sword back. She raises an eyebrow.

“Sure I’m not going to lob any important bits off in your sleep now?”

He laughs.

“You would have done it by now if you were.”

Maybe it’s the peace of the moment, or the joy of finding the sword, or maybe it’s the firelight catching her hair.

“Can I kiss you?”

Ygritte’s face turns contemptuous. He can feel the mocking in her words before they even start. Whatever despair her memories had brought to her, there is no sign of.

“All these years throwing myself at you and all you’re going to do is kiss me?”

He snorts.

“I know nothing remember, I have to learn.”

And before she can get in a retort, he leans over and follows through.

He kisses quite a lot of her that night, and though she isn’t quiet the whole time, none of her words are complaints.