#my life experiances make me feel close to jon snow and i think wanting him to live that harm for the sake of a ship isnt okay

[rise-my-angel]

I love how you phrase it. I criticise ships for being toxic and I get told "it's fiction. Stop being a puritan" and really it's a criticism of them striving for such a harmful thing to happen to the characters. "Oh well it doesn't reflect on my character". I mean, as an example, who wants to see Robb die the way that he did? Nobody sits there and goes, "oh boy, i'm going to watch the most soal destroying scene in Game if Thrones history and I'm going to enjoy it". Nobody enjoys that scene. It's so good exactly because of how much nobody enjoys it. But it's the tropification of such media that makes people think they can list off their demands for the story and expect everything to happen, playing out like a map that gives them a pass through every hurdle for this stuff, so they think they should want these fucked up dynamics to happen, but they also don't want the soul crushing that is involved in those scenarios, like Jon realising he fucked his aunt. They just want the drama without the consequence. Like... Guys you're doing media wrong. I don't know any other way to put it.

I am of the opinion, that there is nothing wrong with taking your own morality, ethics and life experiences, to better connect with a story.

The reason we tell each other stories, is so we can truly bond with one another about the complexities of human life through fictional stories. We do not have to worry about perfectly related to it, because it was never real. But parts of it will always be real to someone in some way. We will always connect to characters through our own lives and morals and it is important that we respect that.

Enjoying dark stories or disturbing content does not make you a bad person, only when you let those disturbing contents dictate how you see the real world is it bad, not the other way around. We can enjoy a show when characters go through bad things they do not deserve, because if it is well written, filmed, acted, it puts you in that scenario and make you root for that character to escape it and get better. It's good not because of the bad, but because we all hope for them to escape the bad before it's too late.

I like that it took a series of traumatic events for Jaime Lannister to reach the point where he was capable of turning his life into something meaningful. But I do not enjoy watching him suffer, nor do I wish it took that trauma in the first place. I like that he fought against a horrible situation, but that doesn't mean I wanted Jaime's hand to be cut off in the first place, or for him to be humiliated and beaten into the mud and mocked. I like watching it, because I hate what is happening. I want to see him get up and fight back, and watching him go through that journey is worth it for where he ends up on the other side.

I like the concept of Jon getting to the exact point Jaime Lannister did, of sacrificing what is considered honorable, to do the right thing. Killing a Queen he is loyal to, to protect his family, his people, and to protect the other millions of people in Westeros from suffering the same fate he just watched one million people brutally perish from. I like the realization that as much as his father raised him to value the right things, Jon comes to his own conclusion that Jaime sacrificed ever having that image in order to do the right thing, instead of the honorable one. That your loyalty and oaths mean nothing if you just stand by and watch as millions of men, women and children burn alive.

I hate the journey that took him there. And not in the same way as Jaime. The journey Jon took was traumatic to the point he will never truly recover. Sleeping with a woman who has kept him hostage for weeks if not months, only to soon after find out that he was related to her in the exact same way he previously thought he was related to his mother? Jon likely would never be capable of a normal relationship after that, he would be traumatized for life and be extremely messed up about it. Likely in the same way that Theons torture and mutilation left him unable to pursue a normal relationship after that trauma.

I do not think anything a shipper could've gotten out of that relationship is worth the harm that it caused. I think, that it is reasonable for me to use my own sense of morality, and my own life experience of relationship based sexual trauma, and determine that it is unhealthy to WANT to see Jon go through all of that, just to get to the few parks that were "romantic". It was not worth it in Jons eyes, so why should it be worth it in mine?

Jon Snow is one of my favourite characters, and I shouldn't want to make him suffer and feel trauma just to see the outcome I want. I don't connect to Jon because he is a prop for my entertainment, I connect to Jon because of my own life experiances make me feel like I relate to his struggles. Why would I ever ENJOY or LOOK FORWARD TO his suffering, just to get him to an end goal I like?

I'd rather Jon not reach that end goal, if the only way is to put him through life changing trauma that he likely will never truly recover from. No one should want that, and they don't. But they refuse to acknowledge that in order to get to that goal the way it did, Jon had to go through those things. Jon had to be put in a complicated amount of pain and suffering that ultimately did not improve his life. But they do not want to look at it. So they ignore the reality of what is being shown, and focus on the small moments that they can ship.

This happened with Ygritte too, they share a scene of banter when south of the wall and it is the only proof they have to point that it was all worth it, when Jon clearly was actually suffering the entire time.

Small pockets of good are not proof it is all good. Abuse is a cycle, and part of that cycle is there are good moments. Moments that remind you why you like this person, and they are by design so that you are not pushed too far too often and decide to leave them. The good does not wash out the bad. Nor the bad, the good. It all adds up to a full image of was this worth enjoying for the pain it put Jon through, and my answer for both his relationships is no.

I don't get to just ignore the suffering it takes to get somewhere for a moment or two of ship worthy content. I can't ignore it and I won't ignore it. Because in my life, I would not be able to ignore the suffering I was put through, so I will not ignore Jons, because my ability to relate to his trauma is part of why I am attached to him. So I do not consider so much harm to be worth such small outcomes when the outcome in the end of the big picture, was just more harm.

Fiction is meant to be related to through your own life and morals, that is how we connect to characters and stories. Because of what in our own lives do we see in the fiction, and how that makes us feel. So I think disregarding the fact that certain ships are the result of putting a character through unfair and unnecessary harm, is not okay behavior.

If you're someone who is not bothered by the trauma Jon goes through in a Jonerys ship, that is your experience of that ship, but you should recognize, that the harm does exist. And you should not want that harm to happen to that character willingly, or turn a blind eye to the harm just to pretend everything is alright and always was.

I respect the art of storytelling to much to pretend that not caring about the harm a character goes through, doesn't somewhat reflect on who you are as a person. It doesn't say everything about you, but I think it says enough.

I think Jonerys is a ship that harms Jon more then it could ever benefit him, and I think it is unfair to the character he is, to want him to go through that inevitable harm just because you enjoy what little good there was, if there even was any in the first place. Because the harm is there, even if you pretend you're not looking at the harm, it's still there, and you know it.

You are just choosing to pretend it's not, to make yourself feel justified.

[coochiequeens]

These men just don't want to be around kids otherwise they would be the fun uncle, volunteer for Big Brothers and Big Sisters, be ok with dating women with kids and have a good relationship with the step kids. They just think they were entitled to biological offspring.

Amelia Hill

@byameliahillMon 28 Aug 2023 11.00 EDT

Father’s Day is dangerous for Robert Nurden. Childless not through choice but, as he puts it, “complacency, bad luck, bad judgment”, he tries to stay indoors and ignore the family celebrations outside.

But one year, he went for a walk. “I met family after family. There were children everywhere,” he remembered. “It was terrible. Just so painful. So many ambushes and triggers for my anguish.”

There is very little research into men who have not had children, although that is beginning to change. Research by Dr Robin Hadley has found that 25% of men over 42 do not have children – 5% more than women of the same age group.

Half of the men who are not fathers but wanted to be describe a huge grief and isolation from society. Almost 40% have experienced depression and a quarter feel a deep anger

Now 72, Nurden had a sheltered upbringing. Reaching adulthood, there was a lot he wanted to experience. “Having children was a very low priority. I was complacent: I just assumed it would happen,” he said.

It was not until he was in his early 40s that Nurden started to get broody. But by that point, he discovered, women of a similar age had already had children, if they were able or wanted to.

“I went into this 15-year period of not going into relationships or ending relationships quickly because I knew that person wasn’t going to want or be able to have a child with me – or that the relationship wasn’t going to be strong enough to last if we did have a child,” said Nurden.

He said high-profile older fathers breed complacency in ordinary men. “If I’m honest, even when I was in my 50s I believed that it might happen for me. But in real life, the Mick Jagger and Jon Snow-age fathers are actually very rare – and in any case, it’s medically not wise, as regards sperm quality.”

What compounded Nurden’s pain was that there was no public or private discussion about how men feel when circumstance leaves them unable to become fathers.

“There’s lots of publicity, quite rightly, about women and childlessness but men are very mute about this. Married men don’t want to hear it either: I’ve had men with children react with anger, as though they feel threatened, when I’ve tried to talk about my pain,” he said.

“I was mute too until recently, because as I aged, I found the regret grew into a great pain,” he added. “Unlike many other forms of grief, this compounds itself as it gets older: I wasn’t a father but now I’m not a grandfather. When I’m even older, I might find myself entirely alone.”

Nurden has published a book, I Always Wanted to be a Dad: Men Without Children, about his story and that of some other men. “It turns out that there is a lot of pain, regret and sadness out there,” he said.

Hadley, the researcher, is childless because although his wife had wanted children, by the time she and Hadley met, her age meant the risk of having one was too great. “I chose love but that doesn’t make the pain of not having children any less,” he said. “When a close colleague had his first child, I was so jealous that I couldn’t be in the same room as him.”

Being a father is a marker of status in many countries, said Hadley, but not in the west. “While there has recently been a lot more public discussion about how to be a good father, we still don’t have any narrative or celebration about how important it is for men to become a father in the first place,” he said.

Paul Goulden, the chair of Ageing Without Children, said that, along with the lack of public dialogue about becoming a father, he was “not convinced that there’s this Game of Thrones genetic push felt by men to have children”.

Instead, he said: “There’s this mistaken belief that men are fertile across their lifespan, so there’s no imperative to get on with it.”

That complacency persists because men without children historically have not spoken about their grief. But, Goulden said: “I hope Robert’s book will trigger a change in public dialogue around this issue. I think there’s an overwhelming sense of loneliness and fear out there about who is going to be there for these men, when they’re old and all alone.”

I wonder what their exes for these men would about them. Because the bar for Father's is so low that women showing they didn't want kids with them should really be a sign to do some soul searching.

Personal experience.......I think of my ex fiance who constantly said he wanted ro get married and have kids. However his actions said he wanted me to have the kids while he worked full time, he didn't believe in daycare so no job for me, and he would have to go to the gym almost everyday, he had a physically demanding job, and of course have his weekly card night with his buddies. And yes I stated all my objections but he had tunnel vision when it came to his fantasy family life. There's more but those were the issues relevant to this article.

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰'𝐬 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

a/n: Does anyone still like Jon Snow? Watching the House of the Dragon has reignited my interest in Game of Thrones. Tbh I never really liked Jon because he was too goody-goody for me. I love morally grey, chaotic characters. But then having one character who embodies the best a king could be, gave Jon Snow this weird dynamic? Idk I’m still pissed at the writers ... 

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ      

ISFP

Gryffindor

Lawful Good

Capricorn Sun, Virgo Moon, Sagittarius Rising  

SFW🌿

⭑ You weren’t really courted by Jon. Or had an official conversation about your relationship. You were just so grounding for Jon; you were a highlight in his life, a hope, a spark. 

⭑ You excited him. Not like the other traditional, gruff people he’s been around his entire life. But someone with ideas - with dreams. 

⭑ You’re the only person Jon Snow feels comfortable enough with to unload his problems. You’re like another advisor, along with Ser Davos. 

⭑ Tormund had a crush on you when he first met you (I think this man is infatuated with anyone he comes in contact with...) You guys have similar personality traits, although you’re a tad more rational than him. 

⭑ You give Jon knew ideas; about the war, battles, relationships with other Lords, and friendships 

⭑ Sansa wanted you two to get together so badly. She knew you would be perfect for Jon

⭑ She would create outfits for you, and make them with similarities to Jon’s. 

⭑ I actually think Sansa would ask you to be her advisor. 

⭑ You’re definitely more chaotic than Jon - maybe unhinged is the word? The quote, ‘is this the hill you want to die on?’ doesn’t exist for you. You on’t brush away a problem. You’re stubborn and determined. And I think that’s what Jon loves about you. 

⭑ Watching him in battles is gut-wrenching. You feel like the world will end if something happens to him. 

⭑ Jon never tells you what to do, he wouldn’t dare. But if there’s a threat, he’ll shove you into safety, if it meant that you would be mad at him forever. 

⭑ He loves imagining you two growing old together 

⭑ He’s a great cuddler; absolutely engulfing you in furs and his warm body. All you feel is contentedness. 

⭑Jon is stubborn himself; very much so. He likes his partner to be tough - to be ready to stand their ground. 

⭑ “Can you hold this for me?” You have a closed fist as you walk next to Jon. 

     “Sure,” he responds without hesitation, opening his hand, palm upwards. 

“Thanks,” you slide your hands into his. Jon chuckles, and your stomach soars. 

⭑ Getting Jon to smile, laugh, and even chuckle, feels like a huge accomplishment. Like you’re such a special person because you made Jon Snow, the moody, grumpy, stoic man, laugh. 

⭑ You always feel protected. Even if Jon isn’t around. He never leaves you feeling alone, and the way the men love Jon, they feel the same about you. Whoever Jon chooses to be his s/o is like being accepted by everyone. 

⭑ Jon isn’t big on PDA, but he will give you swift yet meaningful kisses; either on your lips or cheek. 

⭑ You absolutely adore Ghost; you give the direwolf more attention than Jon does. 

⭑ Jon is always so chivalrous; he’s the epitome of a gentleman. 

⭑ Arya likes that you can hold your ground. She admires people who are strong, and she loves that you’re apart of the family. She couldn’t see Jon with anyone else 

Relationship Tropes: 

Always Does the Right Thing, By the Book x Stuff the Rules, They Were Made to Be Broken

It’s Alright They’re Just Being An Asshole x I WILL KILL THEM HOW DARE THEY SAY THAT TO YOU

Both Having So Much Trauma That No One Else Gets It But The Other

NSFW🔞 minors dni!

⭑ Jon Snow is a tender lover. He’s gentle but firm, making you feel safe and well cared for. 

⭑ He may not have the most experience, but he makes up for it with enthusiasm. Hot breath, quick kisses, and light bites are a flurry around you. 

⭑ He likes to thrust deep inside you, making you quiver and whine. 

   “You’re too big Jon,” you whimper trying to look over your shoulder at him. 

⭑ When Jon wants to have soft, sensual sex - he’ll choose missionary. But when he wants a rough fuck, then he likes doggy. 

⭑ He does like it when you bite his nipples and yank on his hair. He does like to be the submissive partner. Especially when you make him call you sir/ma’am/master etc

⭑ He would totally be into blindfolds and ropes. But he’s the one being tied up and blindfolded. He loves giving the power to you

⭑ (this is female reader) And he has such a breeding kink. Usually, he doesn’t think about kids, he wouldn’t want to bring them into such a world. But with your naked bodies, all he can think about is pushing his seed deep inside you. 

⭑(this is male reader) Jon likes to be the top; but after getting used to being with a man. He’ll be more comfortable with the thought of being bottomed. I think he would like the feeling since he has so much responsibility on his shoulders. It’s like you’re unburdening him. 

[amymel86]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @vivilove-jonsa !!! A little Vampire!Sansa and Vampire Hunter!Jon for you...

Day 1

Sansa hisses at the man who holds her captive. She cannot remember a time in which she has been so maddeningly angry.

His solemn face betrays nothing and the layers of spells cast in this little bedroom is making it hard to read the thoughts of his mind – not that Sansa ever had perfectly crystal clear clarity on that ability anyway. It was more like snatches of information, radio stations tuning in and out. Either way, what with how so vehemently enraged she is feeling right now, Sansa doubts she could read his driver’s license let alone his mind – all she sees is him... and all the ways she’s going to kill him.

Once she gets out from under these silver chains he has at her wrists.

“Let me go and I won’t hurt you,” she demands, trying not to move where she lays, arms bound above her head.

The man’s grey gaze flickers up to her bindings. “We both know that’s a lie.”

He doesn’t underestimate her then. And he knows far too much about what she is for Sansa to feel any semblance of comfort in his presence. She tugs her arms, wincing at the pain when the silver sears her skin.

“If you don’t move, it won’t hurt,” her captor offers. “That’s why I put the bandages on your wrists.” He nods his head to where she is bound.

“Oh, fuck off!” In her days as a human woman, Sansa never would have dreamt of using such profanity, but she’s heard enough modern girls using filthy language on her television box to know that it is not so frowned upon today. Besides, it felt right... for this situation at least.

Her captor raises his brow and somehow Sansa feels like this should make her blush – if she could blush.

“What do you want with me anyway?”

“I hunt your kind.”

This makes her scoff. Her left wrist moves causing the chain to come into more contact with her skin. She hisses and whimpers, trying to catch her breath. The man – the hunter – he steps into the room now, where he had been looming in the doorway. Reaching over her, he fixes the silver so that it rests securely on the bandages, saving her from further wounds. Her flesh begins to heal, to knit back together until there is barely a scar left behind to tell a story.

Her hunter is still leaning over her. She could try to surge up against her bindings, lunge at his throat. But it would hurt – it would hurt a lot. Besides, she’d still be bound to this bed.

Sansa can feel her fangs slowly protract against her better judgement.

“Vampyre hunters kill my kind.”

The man grunts and straightens. Staring at her a little while longer, his gaze begins to drop down her body before it snaps back up to her face. “How is it that you select the ones you feed on?” he asks, ignoring her statement. “And the ones you completely drain – the ones you kill – they’re all...”

He’s searching for the right label.

“Bad men,” Sansa offers, raising a brow of her own.

Her hunter snorts. “A vigilante vampire? That’s a new one on me.”

“Why don’t you let me go and I’ll show you how it works.”

His gaze is intense for a moment or two as he maps out her face before turning, leaving her with a quiet chuckle.

 Day 4

“I’m not feeding on that.”

Her captive looks down at the bag of blood he holds in his hand. “Do you want to starve?”

“Do you actually care if I starve?”

He huffs and leaves the room.

 Day 5

She is in a half state of dozing when he enters the room this time, roused by his agitated tone.

“Alright, look. Just drink the fucking blood, ok? If it’s the wrong blood group, I can get a different one, but can you just-”

“It doesn’t matter what group it is, idiot,” Sansa says, shifting on the bed, uncomfortable. “It’s of no use to me if there’s no life in it.”

“No life in it?”

She nods. “If it’s not coming from the source then I might as well be drinking red food colouring for all the good it’ll do. I need lifeblood to sustain me.” The hand holding the bag of blood slowly lowers as her captive’s jaw clenches in discomfort. “Don’t you know anything, oh mighty vampire hunter?”

“Our training centres around killing, not sustaining your kind,” he says, irritated, almost spitting those last two words.

“Then why haven’t you? Why am I still here? Why are you trying to feed me?”

“I-”

He shakes his head and leaves.

When he comes back, much later, he’s dressed in only his undergarments and his hair is wild and messy. He wears eyeglasses on his troubled face. If he was not her captor Sansa could quite easily imagine herself deciding the sight of him was quite becoming really.

But he is.

So she won’t.

“Alright, don’t try anything,” he warns, coming nearer. He looks at her, assessing. His chest is moving up and down with every breath. Reaching up behind his neck, he unclasps a silver chain that he wears, making sure she sees what he holds and the threat hanging in each link of that necklace. Wetting his lips, her hunter juts out his wrist so that it’s offered right in front of her face. “Feed,” he says, the other hand gripping the silver chain. “But don’t take too much.”

She wants to refuse but she hasn’t fed in over a month.

His skin smells like sweat and bourbon – a hint of a spicy cologne. Sansa licks at his wrist. She’s so, so hungry. Their eyes remain on each other and her captor’s lips part as she continues to lap at her chosen patch of skin.

She can smell his arousal. His undergarments are beginning to tent.

“I- what are-”

“Shhhh,” Sansa coos. “This will stop the bite from hurting and make it heal faster.” He looks mesmerised. “You know, the best way to do this is while making love. Humans say it’s euphoric. Wouldn’t it be so sweet to be completely wrapped up in one another, writhing in ecstasy? Why don’t you...” Sansa tugs slightly on the chains at her wrists, making the suggestion.

Her captor swallows and blinks. “Stop it,” he says, though his voice is quiet and hoarse. “I know how your kind like to tempt your victims so just stop it and feed.”

Sansa huffs from her nose. “Suit yourself,” she says, returning to licking at his wrist.

He hardly flinches when her fangs pierce his skin, but the moan he lets slip when she begins to suck sends tingles all over her body.

 Day 6

“Is it uncomfortable?” His eyes focus where her wrists rest above her head.

“What do you think?”

A nod of his head and he leaves. Sansa can hear his apartment door close, the lock clicking into place after him. There is no sunlight trying to streak through the blinds when he returns.

“Ok,” he says, standing beside the bed, though Sansa suspects he’s talking to himself in reality. He scratches at his head, turns to walk away only to return.

“Decided to kill me now?”

He actually does walk out of the room then, only to spin at the doorway to face her. “I should kill you. I should’ve fucking killed you a week ago. My superiors think that I have. It’s what I was ordered to do.”

“So why haven’t you?”

“I-” His hand raises to absentmindedly rub at the back of his neck. “I don’t fucking know. I just...” His mind seems to change track and he’s striding into the bedroom again. “Ok, I have this-“ he fishes an item out of his pocket and holds it out for her inspection. Sansa hisses instantly, the object making her feel queasy. He pockets it again.

“What is that?!” She’s never experience anything like it but she could barely stand to look at it.

“It’s a talisman, a seven-pointed-star with a bloodstone in the centre that’s been blessed numerous times by some holy-man in Asshai or some such shit, I don’t know. All I know is that it’s never left HQ since it arrived and it’s meant to ward off your kind.” He stands there, assessing her once more.

Fuck, her head hurt.

“Seems to me that it works,” he says. “Now, if I untie you, you shouldn’t be able to touch me so long as I have this talisman on my person, and if I hang it above a doorway, you shouldn’t be able to cross that either.”

“Just get on with it and get that fucking thing away from me!”

Her captor takes a deep breath before beginning to make quick work of her bindings. “Right, right, sorry.”

 Day 7

His stupid talisman hangs above her open prison cell doorway. Try as she may, she cannot go through.

At least she’s no longer tied to the bed.

“How long do you plan on keeping me here?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t really plan it.”

Sansa scoffs. “That’s evident.”

Her captor scowls at her over his folding computer thing.

Pacing the little room back and forth, Sansa comes to a stop as close to the open doorway as she dares. “What is your name anyway?”

His mouth twitches before he answers. “Jon,” he tells her. “Jon Snow.... and you are Alayne Stone, though you changed your name to this after you were turned. Your human name was Sansa Stark.”

Her hands had been on her hips.

They fall now.

“How do you know that?” She hasn’t heard someone say her real name in over a century. She feels light headed.

Her captor – Jon – Jon Snow – shrugs a shoulder and taps on his computer thing. I was assigned to exterminate you. I have your files. The human name wasn’t in there but I did some digging, found out what I could which lead me to a bunch of stuff about Winterfell, and then when I came across this old family photograph from a Northern genealogy site, it was easy to put two and two together.” He swivels his screen around to show her.

Their faces.

A sob leaves her throat.

 Day 8

“You really can let me go now, Jon. I won’t hurt you.”

He looks pained. “I... I want to believe you but-“

“But?”

“But I know what you are.”

Sansa feels her lip curl. Maybe she would hurt him. A little.

“Besides, as far as my superiors know, you’re already exterminated. If they catch wind that I let you go –“

“How will they know? I’ll be out of the city before anyone knows it.”

“The Organisation is everywhere, Sansa. They’ll know.”

Huffing, Sansa shakes her head. “So you’ll get a tap on the wrists and-“

“Oh it’ll be more than that-“

As if the universe was trying to prove his point, an almighty crash made Jon spring up from his place on the couch. Somehow, he had a gun already in his hand. “Rast,” he says, his jaw clenching. “If you wanted to come hang out, this isn’t the polite way of going about it. Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?”

The man who had broken down Jon’s door has an answering gun in clutched in his fist as he steps over the threshold. He grunts at Jon’s humour before laying eyes on Sansa in the doorway of his spare bedroom. A rancid grin stretches across his face. “I fucking knew it. I knew you were up to something. Old Mormont said you wouldn’t pull any tricks on us like that but I fucking knew! First I see you comin’ outta that blood bank lookin’ all shady, then the Shielding Star goes missing from HQ, then that fat piggy, Tarly says you’ve been interested in readin’ some of his old dusty books on fangers. I just knew you were up to no good and lookee here.” He flicks the barrel of his gun towards Sansa. At that, Jon starts to shift, moving to put himself between Sansa and his unwanted guest. Rast lets out a horrid chuckle. “Whatchu been doin? Fucking ‘em before you off ‘em?” Sansa hisses, her fangs jutting out sharply. Rast laughs. “Mind you, I wouldn’t mind a go on this one before you stake ‘er. She looks a feisty sort. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this myself.”

“Rast,” Jon warns.

“What’s the matter? Don’t like sharing?” he laughs darkly. “Aw, that’s too bad, Snow, it really is.”

BANG!

Jon’s body jolts back and a grunt leaves him before he falls to the ground.

“Jon!” Sansa cries.

“Looks like you won’t be having a say in it anyhow,” Rast says, grinning. He walks over and kicks Jon in the shoulder making him roll onto his back.

His shirt is rapidly getting soaked in a bloom of wet crimson. Rast puts his boot on Jon’s wrist, pinning the hand holding the gun to the floor. Jon looks over at her, wheezing and coughing up more lifeblood. She feels helpless. He’s going to die.

Turning his wrist as much as he can, Jon takes aim in her direction.

BANG!

Something shatters above the doorway to her little prison cell bedroom and as soon as Sansa can feel it – that sense of freedom - she knows he’s destroyed and dislodged that fucking talisman.

She feels alive.

Before Rast can even fucking blink she leaps onto his back and snaps his neck. His body falls like a sack of potatoes.

She’s in a state of triumph that crashes rather quickly when she hears Jon coughing and gurgling on the floor beside her. When she kneels down, she can see his life leaving, that light in his grey eyes starting to ebb away. He laughs a little though it seems to pain him. “You lot always were so fucking fast.” He struggles to swallow without spluttering. “I’m sorry, Sansa.”

“No, no, no.”

He’s gone.

“No, no, no.”

She cradles him now, feeling grief for the first time in years and years. Looking around, panicked, Sansa’s not sure what she’s looking for.

She knows what she’s going to do – even though she swore to herself she would never.

Biting down hard on the fleshy pad of her palm, Sansa squeezes and squeezes until her own blood begins to drip and dribble from the wound. She reaches for his mouth, praying to Gods she does not believe in that this will work.

Fuck, what if this does work?

Five, ten minutes pass when a wounded sounding groan comes from Jon’s throat taking Sansa by surprise. A shocked sort of laugh escapes her and she opens her wound with another bite, squeezing harder over his mouth. “Come on, moron, drink,” she says, chuckling. He begins sucking sleepily like a babe.

Lifting his bloody shirt, Sansa can see the wound on his chest mending, his new body pushing out the bullet before it completely seals over anew.

That should be enough. His body is already changing. She should leave. He’ll need to sleep for a few hours before he can fully awaken in his new form and she should get herself miles and miles away from here. Besides, that’s what happened to her when she was turned – she woke up alone and very confused.

She should go.

She really should.

Sansa strokes Jon’s hair, the bitemark on her hand now fully healed as she pulls away from his mouth.

... so what’s making her stay?

[sailorshadzter]

Hiii! Welcome back!!! If you are still taking requests, how about an one shot where Cersei kind of notices the tension between Jon and Sansa and comments on it? Maybe in a "We are not so different" way? Or she straight up encourages them bc she's a horrible person and thinks if there are rumors about the Starks, they'll forget about the Lannisters?

ANON. whew this has been in my ask box for a while! but i opened my inbox to find some inspiration to write and yours was the one that clicked first! so i hope you see this, anon, wherever you are, and know that i FINALLY got to your prompt request!!!

as always, you're always welcome to drop a prompt request in my inbox.

enjoy!

The ball is grand and glittering.

Cersei has ensured that this night would be perfect, putting far more coin into it than Robert ever would have allowed. But there is little else she can do, what with the trouble brewing all around them. She's lost one son already, she will not lose another- and so she has gone to great expense and trouble to make sure that this room was full of loyal nobles and fearsome knights. This wedding would not end the way the last one had, even if the bride was the same.

From where she sits, she watches as the young Sansa Stark dances with her half brother, the bastard born Jon Snow. The young man had been intended for the Night's Watch, but Tyrion had developed a fondness for the boy during their visit North, and so, he'd come along with the Stark's. They are close together, the dance bringing them so, but the smile that lights up the redhead's face is one that Cersei swears she's worn herself, but when she looks upon Jaime. And the usually stoic Snow looks just as delighted to spin his sister out and back in, hands at her waist to lift her high into the air as the music swells. Cersei chuckles, wondering how's she's not noticed it ever before. The wheels in her brain are suddenly spinning, whirling several thoughts throughout that bring yet another smile to her face.

As if her thoughts have conjured him, she feels Jaime's presence at her elbow; he bows over his arm, ever the courtier, but she knows it's more for show than anything else. "What has you so cheery?" He asks, his green eyes scanning the dance floor, where sure enough his gaze falls upon the Stark siblings as they finish their dance among all the others, though it quite seems they've forgotten they aren't alone. "They make a handsome pair, do they not?" Turning back to face his lover, he sees he's right, for she's staring down at them with a look he's seen before. "What are you thinking?"

"That proud Ned Stark's children are falling in love right before our very eyes." They both knew what the world would say about two siblings, albeit half, falling in love. Was it not why they themselves took every precaution? Cersei shudders to think what would happen if the truth was ever discovered... The rumors were bad enough. But this... Two Stark children in love? It would cease the rumors about her and Jaime, that she was certain of. She watches as Sansa dips a quick curtsy to Jon before he offers her his arm, which she readily takes, and they disappear into the crowd.

"See that Lady Stark is brought to me tomorrow morning, won't you?" She says to the nearest lady, who nods, curtsying before she scurries away to do as she's been bid. Cersei turns back to face the dance floor, but it's suddenly become far less interesting.

And so she must wait until morning.

[ x x x ]

It's late, yet she cannot bring herself to leave his arms.

Jon holds fast to her, kissing the top of her head, her silk gown soft beneath his touch as his hands span the length of her spine. "I should go..." She whispers for the tenth time, though his grip does not relent, nor does she make any attempt to pull away. He smells of spice and smoke, comforting and strong; she buries her face deeper into his chest, wishing she could sink into him. "Jon..."

His name is soft on her lips.

Their gazes meet and he's lost, as he always is, in the depth of her blue eyes. "I know," is all he can say, knowing as well as she that it was best for her to go. They both knew where this moment would lead- after all, how many times had they been here before? But more than anything, they both knew what would happen if they were discovered in such an embrace. And yet... There's a part of him that doesn't care. There's a part of him that wishes with all of his might that they could be together in the way that they wanted. No more secret midnight rendezvous that only left them both feeling more strained than being without the other. "I'll walk you to your rooms..." He begins, but she shakes her head.

"Shae is waiting," she says softly, finally freeing herself from his grip. She feels cold without his touch and that is almost enough to send her back into his arms. "I will see you in the morning," she goes on, reaching out her hand to tenderly touch his. Jon nods, catching her hand so he might bring it to his lips to kiss. The brush of his lips to her knuckles steals the breath from her lungs and time is suspended as they stand there, the only sound in the room that of the fire burning in the hearth. "Until the morning..."

"Until the morning," he parrots back as he let's go of her hand. "Good night, Sansa."

The way he says her name sends shivers down her spine. "Good night, Jon." She says instead of every other thing she wants to say.

[ x x x ]

In the morning, a lady arrives at her door to inform her she's been summoned to see the queen.

Though no longer truly queen, Cersei Lannister runs the Seven Kingdoms through her youngest son, the now King Tommen. Just a boy, he's been married to Margaery Tyrell, who only several weeks before had instead been married to Joffrey. Poison had taken care of him, but Margaery and her family, ever the schemers, ensured that she would take her place as queen. Sansa was certain that it would not be long before a new power struggle would emerge. Soon, it would be Margaery and the Tyrell's fighting for control of poor, young Tommen.

Once she's dressed, Sansa, with Shae beside her, makes her way down to Cersei's office.

When she's been announced, she steps into the room, one which she has spent much time in over her years in King's Landing. Once she had been thrilled to be invited into this room, to spend private time with Queen Cersei... But things have changed. Though she dips her the curtsy due to her rank, Sansa does not return the smile offered to her by the golden haired woman behind her oak desk. "Lady Stark, tell me, how did you enjoy the ball last night?" Cersei asks, gesturing for Sansa to take the empty chair across from her. The young woman frowns, but does as she's bid, clearly surprised by the question. Cersei notices she wears a new gown of pale blue damask, made from a bolt of fabric she was given by Jon Snow a few short weeks ago; though it is fashioned in the Southern style, Cersei sees that the trailing sleeves are stitched with falling leaves, weirwood leaves, like those that grow in the North. Even her hair, which once she wore in styles that mirrored her own, is fastened into braids in a way that reminds Cersei of Catelyn Stark. It is Sansa's way of breaking with the Lannister's entirely; she is no longer theirs to control.

"It was wonderful, your grace," Sansa answers honestly, shifting slightly in the chair, brushing a lock of red hair across a shoulder before she accepts the goblet of wine being offered to her. "Very grand." She goes on, though she's no longer thinking of the ball, but of the last dance she and Jon had shared together.

"Your brother is quite the elegant dancer, I must say I'm surprised." Cersei's voice breaks into her thoughts and Sansa blinks in surprise. This certainly was not the topic of conversation she expected to have upon being summoned to this room. "The two of you make quite the couple." At this, Sansa chokes on the sip of wine she's just taken, her stare wild and frantic as it rises up to meet the queen. Inside, Cersei is laughing- she's been right there was Sansa was before, so many years ago. Back when her feelings for Jaime had first begun to grow into what they were now. She could recall their dance lessons, when a compliment on how well they fit together would leave her blushing and stammering, just as Sansa Stark was now. "You needn't hide it from me, Lady Stark," she goes on, taking advantage of the young woman's silence. "I see how you look at him... And how he looks at you."

Sansa's heart was beating fast within her chest, so fast she can barely catch her breath. Was she and Jon truly so obvious? They had painstakingly tried to keep what was brimming between them beneath the surface... But had last night been their very downfall? "I-I do not know what you mean, your grace," she says, adopting a cheery but confused tone, cursing herself for being a terrible liar. From the way Cersei is smiling, Sansa knows she does not believe her, not even for a moment.

"You know, Lady Stark, if there is one thing in my life I regret... It is not ever being with the one I truly loved." Cersei speaks from total honesty, saying aloud the words she's never spoken before to anyone. Not even to Jaime. She knows what it will take to sway proud Ned's child into something such as diving head first into an incestual relationship. But she knows the way to sway the young woman, for it was the same way she swayed herself all those years ago. "Someday you will be married to a man who you likely do not love," they are both reminded of a similar conversation, one they had shared before her marriage to Joffrey was to take place. "You should experience true love, even just once in your life." These words resonate with her and Cersei knows it. Her blue eyes widen and she opens her mouth as if she means to speak, but cannot find the words. "We cannot help who we love," Cersei says, though now she wonders if she's still speaking to Sansa, but rather to herself. "But if any love was so truly wrong, why would the Gods allow us to feel it in the first place?"

Sansa's heart beat has not ceased in it's pace, but a slow realization is dawning upon her as she listens to Cersei's words. There is meaning behind them and she knows, those words are not meant only for her. She recalls the rumors spread just before her father was beheaded, rumors about the truth of Joffrey and his siblings parentage. The truth about Cersei and her brother, Jaime. There is a part of her that worries this is just a trap, a set up to catch her and Jon in the act, something that would earn them the scorn and disgust of all of King's Landing and likely the North.

And yet...

You should experience true love, even just once in your life... Those are the words she's replaying in her brain, over and over again, knowing that Cersei was right. It would not be long before a marriage was made for her, one that would likely be loveless and political, one that would do nothing for her but everything for the Lannister's. Without her father or mother or even Robb to protect her from such a fate, she would be doomed to marry a man of Cersei's choosing.

When she's dismissed a few minutes later, Sansa wastes no time.

Shae, who has waited for her outside Cersei's room for her, rises up from where she sits on the windowsill. "Find Jon for me, won't you?" She asks in an undertone, to which her lady stares back at her for a long moment before she nods. If there was anyone she could trust with what she was about to do, it would be Shae.

Once she's back within her own chamber, she brings herself to stand before the looking glass, staring at her own reflection. She knows that doing what she's about to do will change everything, but she knows she cannot go on in life without knowing what it will feel like to be held by a man that truly loves her. If she can only taste his love this one time, then she will go willingly into any marriage presented to her, for Jon's love she will carry with her for the rest of her life.

A knock on the door comes.

By the time she's turned around, the door has opened and it's Jon standing there. He's staring at her, taking her in as he always does, those Stark colored eyes enough to bring her to her knees. "Sansa," he greets, feeling just as she does, the shift in what lays between them. She crosses the room as he does and so they meet at the center, a minimal distance between them. The blue damask gown suits her in a way he cannot describe and he's, as always, struck by her beauty. Somewhere behind them, Shae quietly ducks into the antechamber, out of sight, out of mind- but there all the same.

There's so many things she wants to say, so many things she needs for him to hear. But the words do not come, no matter how hard she wills them to. And so, instead, she does the only other thing that makes any sense; she kisses him. She kisses him with as much passion as she can muster and he falls into it, his arms winding around her only so he might pull her closer. When he breaks free moments later, it's to stare into her eyes, to ask her one single thing. "Are you certain?" She nods.

That's all he needs.

This time, he's the one to kiss her, leaning in to capture her mouth with his. One hand remains perched at the small of her back, though the other one slides into her hair, uncaring of the pins he knocks loose. She's kissing him back, meeting his tongue with her own, the sensations rushing through her body unlike anything she's ever felt before.

It does not take long before they stand at the side of her bed, the canopy hangings pushed aside so Jon might sit upon the edge. He beckons her closer and she comes to stand between his knees, allowing him to turn her around so her back instead faces him. Then, she feels his hands as they begin to loosen the laces of her blue gown until it begins to slip over her shoulders. That is when she turns back around to face him and she allows the gown to fall to the floor at her feet, all so she might stand there in nothing but her chemise.

And then, Jon draws her down into the bed, and into his arms.

[the-perfunctorily]

Who Killed Jon?

A meta post intended to (not very) seriously look at all the possible suspects in the Mutiny at Castle Black, and narrow it down to a few characters with motive, and means to be involved.

Wick Whittlestick slashed at his throat,[...]"For the Watch." Wick slashed at him again. [...] Then Bowen Marsh stood there before him, tears running down his cheeks. "For the Watch." He punched Jon in the belly. When he pulled his hand away, the dagger stayed where he had buried it. (ADWD, Jon XII)

We know for a fact that Bowen Marsh and Wick Whittlestick were part of the mutiny. But at least four people stab Jon, likely more. So, who were they?

This is intended mostly just as reference for myself as to who was where and when, and a fun game of clue, and mostly just speculation and headcanon to procrastinate on projects, and not really meant to be taken seriously (yes, I wrote 5000 words on a post that is not meant to be taken seriously. Such is life) I’m sure nothing I’ve put down is very revolutionary. We just like to have fun here.

This post also came into being because I think it’s very easy to imagine that it’s just Everyone that turns against Jon, which leads to a really bleak outlook for the Wall plot in TWOW. I’ve seen people worrying that Satin will be harmed by the other brothers, or that Val and Little Monster may be hurt, either by them or by Melisandre. These are all possibilities,  but I don’t believe that it’s necessarily true that Jon has no allies left. So I wanted to eliminate as many people as I could. When I get right down to it, I can only come up with 9 people who have either circumstantial evidence to suggest their involvement, or motive I can scrape together. So I believe there could be a solid pro-Jon contingent still at the Wall post-assassination, and his friends and vulnerable people he was protecting might not be doomed.

The suspect list is near the end in bolded large font so if you want to skip the long and mostly unnecessary eliminations, just scroll to there to see who I actually think might have been involved.

For formatting and clarity reasons all lists will be bolded, and I’ll bold every name at the point that I either count them in or out of the suspect list.

First off, I’m going to assume that Bowen Marsh was the main force of will behind the mutiny, and base my assessment of who was involved on who would ally themselves with him and what I believe to be his motives. This might not be true. He might just have been a participant, but I think he has the means, and the motive to have orchestrated it, and don’t see any other candidates for mastermind, unless GRRM pulls a complete Asimov ‘Mule’ gambit, which I will get to in my final suspect list. I think Bowen Marsh did not want to kill Jon, but believed he had to, for the good of the watch. I believe his anti-wildling feelings and traditionalist values were a big part of why he did it, and I think he did it to preserve the way he believed the watch is supposed to and has always operated. So people who hate wildlings, people who hate Jon’s radical policies and would want a return to how it was during Mormont’s command and before, people who are close associates of Marsh’s, and people who have personal reasons to hate Jon are my main suspects.

Now. To get started, I have to ask. Who would want to kill Jon? Fortunately, several people have openly threatened, or implied that they want to kill him in the past! Unfortunately, they all have strong alibis.

Ser Alliser Thorne: 

You'd best pray that it's a wildling blade that kills me, though. The ones the Others kill don't stay dead … and they remember. I'm coming back, Lord Snow (ADWD, Jon VI)

Alibi: is currently out ranging with Dywen, MIA beyond the Wall

Mance Rayder: 

I could visit you as easily, my lord. Those guards at your door are a bad jape. A man who has climbed the Wall half a hundred times can climb in a window easy enough (ADWD, Melisandre)

Alibi: is currently trapped in Winterfell on a mission to rescue ‘Arya’, allegedly imprisoned in a cage

Stannis:

 He only threatened to behead me twice. (ADWD, Jon I)

Alibi: Is snowbound in a crofter’s village about three days from Winterfell, and probably didn’t even really mean it.

Cotter Pyke: 

“Lord Snow," said Cotter Pyke, "if you muck this up, I'm going to rip your liver out and eat it raw with onions." (ASOS, Jon XII)

Alibi: Is currently having a very bad time on a boat near hardhome, on Jon’s orders, also probably didn’t really mean it.

That leaves everyone at Castle Black at the time of the mutiny. This includes Selyse, her household and knights, Melisandre, Tormund and his ~50 wildlings, and all the sworn brothers and recruits of the Watch.

I’m going to discount anyone in Selyse’s camp, despite them being at Castle Black at the time of the attack, and even present at the event, because Jon is Stannis’ principal ally at the Wall, and much as Selyse might dislike him personally, I don’t think she would involve any of her knights or retainers in a plot to have him killed. Melisandre might have the ability to take control of Selyse’s knights because they are all fervent believers, but she likes Jon, and thinks he is an important ally, so I don’t think she would do anything to harm him either.

Similarly, I’m going to discount Tormund and any of the wildlings he brought from Oakenshield. The mutiny was motivated partly by anti-wildling sentiment, and disapproval of Jon’s welcoming of wildlings south of the Wall, so I don’t think that Bowen Marsh would ally himself with them. Furthermore, the mutiny takes place right after Jon has given a speech endearing himself to the wildlings, I don’t think they would suddenly turn against him after cheering and swearing to come with him to Winterfell. This includes Borroq, who, though he speaks derisively to Jon, and Ghost reacts aggressively towards him and his boar, I think means no ill will towards them. I actually think he will be instrumental in facilitating Jon’s resurrection. For what it’s worth, I think most of his smugness and rudeness toward Jon is because Jon is not acknowledging his own warging abilities, not because of personal animosity. And Ghost’s aggression is more due to his past experience with other skinchangers (namely Orell the eagle trying to break his neck and then later trying to rip Jon’s eye out) being averse, than any sense of ill-intent. A lot of stock is put in the direwolves’ intuition about who means their Starkling harm, but in reality I think it is more based on the kid’s personal feelings that they aren’t acknowledging. Grey Wind wants to hurt Tyrion in AGOT despite him being innocent of the attempt on Bran’s life, but shows no ill will towards Lothar Frey, one of the main architects of the Red Wedding. Jon is suspicious of Borroq, so Ghost is, that doesn’t necessarily mean that he is an enemy.

I’m also going to exclude guys who are not explicitly stated to have died or been sent elsewhere, but for some reason do not appear in the ADWD appendix or the wiki as being at Castle Black during ADWD. These are:

Bass: The Castle Black master of hounds, I’m assuming he went on the ranging and didn’t survive, since nobody seems to be keeping any hounds at Castle Black anymore.

Red Jack Crabb and Rusty Flowers: Were supposed to escort Janos Slynt to Greyguard. Presumably they were sent there after his execution.

Rudge: helps Donal Noye fix Longclaw in AGoT, but is not mentioned again, nor does he appear in any other appendix. Maybe he died on the ranging, or was sent to another tower. Maybe he died of personal problems.

Ser Wynton Stout: Ostensibly commanded Castle Black while Bowen marsh was away with the Garrison chasing raiders and then fighting on the bridge of skulls. He appears in the AFFC appendix but not in the ADWD one, I’m assuming he died of old age somewhere between books.

Also not included in the appendix are the two unnamed recruits that were part of Conwy’s first group of prisoners, a barber “a greybeard leaning on a staff” and a brigand “some grinning loon who must have fancied himself a warrior” (ACOK, Jon I). These guys might have died during the attack on Castle Black, might have sworn their vows at some point during ADWD, or might still be recruits with Hop-Robin and Jace. But they aren’t named so I’m not going to worry about them.

This leaves the men of the Watch who are stated, or implied to be at Castle Black at the time of the mutiny for our suspect list. Here they are in alphabetical order, according to both the wiki and the ADWD appendix.

Albett, Alf of Runnymudd, Arron, Bearded Ben, Black Bernarr, Septon Cellador, Clydas, Cugen (or Cuger), Dannel, Sweet Donnel Hill, Duncan “Big” Liddle, Elron, Emrick, Fulk the Flea, Garrett Greenspear, Geoff the Squirrel, Goady, Halder, Hareth “Horse”, Three-Finger Hobb, Hop-Robin, Jace, Jax, Jeren, Kegs, Leathers, Left Hand Lew, Luke of Longtown, Matthar, Mully, Othell Yarwyck, Owen the Oaf, Rory, Satin, Spare Boot, Tim Stone, Tim Tangletongue, Ty, Tom Barleycorn, and Ulmer of the Kingswood.

Obviously there are probably more men than this, I don’t think it’s ever actually said how many brothers are still at the castle at the end of ADWD, but it’s probably more than just 40. (though maybe not by much? it feels quite empty there and everyone expresses feeling outnumbered by wildings and Kings/Queens men) However, this is a post about who, of the people we know, killed Jon. There isn’t much of a point if it’s unnamed stewards #23 and #17.

Next, I’ll remove people I believe like Jon and wouldn’t hurt him, and have no reason to suspect. However, I wouldn’t put it past GRRM to make one or more of these guys a mutineer for the emotional toll it would take.

Albett, Matthar, and Jeren: All of them were recruits with Jon that he never clashed with directly, they were even friends. Matt had Septon Cellador light a candle for Ned when news came to Castle Black of his execution and he was one of the boys that went with Pyp and Grenn to bring Jon back when he rode off. (side note, I find it very funny that these guys are all just At The Castle while Jon is doing his ‘woe is me the lonely friendless commander’ bit. Dude, half of your graduating class is standing right there)

Arron and Emrick, Horse, Jace, and Hop-Robin: Recruits that came to the Wall either right before or while the great ranging was gone. They fought alongside Jon to defend the Wall, and trained under him briefly. Horse lived in mole’s town and only survived the attack because Jon warned the people there, and he decided to take the black after the battle. I would imagine that he thinks very highly of Jon. When they are made brothers, the twins accompany Horse (and Leathers and Jax, all followers of the old gods) to the wierwood grove to say their vows despite following the Seven. They are all close enough in age to Jon’s friends and would have had lots of time to get to know them during the ranging. None of them ever knew the Old Bear, so wouldn’t have any nostalgia about his tenure as LC. They seem like the best candidates for Jon loyalists to me.

Duncan “Big” Liddle: As the eldest son of Torren Liddle, he is Morgan “Middle” Liddle’s big brother. Morgan Liddle is among the northmen that join with Stannis’ army. He is the loudest shouter of the “Ned’s Girl” refrain, suggesting that his main reason for joining is because of him and his house’s strong feelings of loyalty to house Stark and Ned’s legacy. Also, Bran runs into a Liddle subject (or so he thinks) on the way to the Wall who expresses strong pro-Stark sentiments. I’m going to say that Big Liddle shares his family’s warm feelings toward the Starks, and would be loyal to Jon, him being ‘Ned’s Boy’.

Three-finger Hobb: Was always nice to Jon, even if he was exasperated about the wildlings and having to do a whole wedding feast. He seems an easygoing sort and not someone that could be manipulated into doing a mutiny. Also he was nice to Sam and gave him a salted ham for a nameday present, so I will not hear anything bad about the man. That said, he’s a long-time associate of Bowen Marsh, and being the chief cook, they would work very closely together, so it wouldn’t actually surprise me if he was involved.

Jax and Leathers: As former wildlings, I don’t think they would work with Bowen Marsh. It was Jon who facilitated their coming south and they took the black of their own free will. Also leathers was actively intervening in Wun Wun’s meltdown during the mutiny, so he had his hands full, and besides, he seemed like a good pal to Jon.

Owen the Oaf: He’s a nice boy and was happy to follow Jon’s orders, also Jon let him have Janos Slynt’s Boots.

Satin: If GRRM makes Satin complicit in the mutiny I’ll cry, so I simply won’t entertain the possibility.

I’ll also mention that in Jon VI, he sends out nine men on a ranging. I’ve taken out all the ones that are named: Dywen, Ser Alliser Thorne, Kedge Whiteye, and the three men who’s eyeless heads turn up just outside the gate, victims of the Weeper: Hairy Hal, Black Jack Bulwer, And Garth Greyfeather. This leaves three men that go unnamed. One in Dywen and Ser Alliser’s party, and two in Kedge’s. They are presumably experienced rangers. They might just be unnamed, unlisted watchmen, but they also might be some of the above brothers. Bearded Ben, Black Bernarr, Sweet Donnel Hill, Elron, Geoff, Goady, and Tim Stone are not mentioned after Jon sends out the ranging, so it might be any of them. I’m going to discount them all, because I don’t see any real motives there anyway, except Sweet Donnel and Goady, for reasons I’ll get to later.

Jon also sends an unknown number of guides with Stannis in Jon IV, and later with Tycho Nestoris in Jon IX. None of them are named, they might have been stewards or rangers, who knows, I’m not going to speculate.

Now,  there are several Rangers here who could go one way or the other, so I’m not going to spend time on the ones that are at Castle Black during the mutiny but don’t have much of a motive. They might have, they might not have been part of the mutiny. But Since Bowen Marsh was in charge, I think that it was mostly made up of stewards. So I’m going to take Garrett Greenspear, Luke of Longtown, Rory, Tom Barleycorn, and Ulmer off the suspect list. (Also I like Ulmer, and think he’s cool, so there. Also what’s up with Tom Barleycorn. Have you guys ever heard the song John Barleycorn must die? Where a symbolic figure of the harvest named John Barleycorn is sacrificed to be resurrected in spring and keep people alive with sustenance and alcohol? Kind of sus when this guy named TOM Barleycorn is at the castle where a main character named Jon dies and is presumably going to be resurrected, and likely have a hand in ending the winter.)

Similarly, for the builders, Othell Yarwyck, as the first Builder, and frequent Naysayer of Jon’s, is a prime suspect. However, even if Othell was involved, which is a distinct possibility, I don’t think he would have ordered his men to also involve themselves. So I’m going to take Kegs and Spare Boot off the list, since I don’t see a motive for either of them, and they both seemed very enthusiastic about fighting alongside Jon during Mance’s assault.

And as for stewards. As the men directly under Bowen Marsh’s command, they are the most likely to be involved, So I’m just going to say that I have no real reason to think Ty, Cugen, Tim Tangletongue (who does not appear in the text but is in the appendix), or Dannel would turn on Jon, but they very well might have, and I wouldn’t be very surprised if they did. For the record, Dannel gave Alys Karstark a sausage from the kitchen when he and Ty found her, and that alone endears him to me enough to take him off the list, and Cugen is only ever mentioned here:

Sam will remain in training, with the likes of Rast and Cuger and these new boys who are coming up the Kingsroad. Gods only know what they'll be like (AGOT Jon V)

as a recruit that might hurt Sam if he did not graduate with Jon and the others, so perhaps he would be anti-Jon, as someone associated with Rast

All of this said, Chett’s prologue is pretty much a direct message from GRRM that even guys who Jon barely notices might hate him and wish him ill. Since we only see the Wall through Jon’s PoV, we are going to have the same blind spots he does. So any of these half mentioned, mostly forgotten guys might harbor some intense resentment, and have all the reason in the world to kill Jon. But for the purposes of this post, I am focusing on characters that I think make sense as being anti-Jon, and there’s no way to speculate on people with no evidence to suggest them.

So, finally, having eliminated everyone without motive or evidence, this leaves only the characters I actually have reason to suspect were involved. The suspect list is as follows:

Alf of Runnymudd, Septon Cellador, Clydas, Sweet Donnel Hill, Fulk the Flea, Goady, Left Hand Lew, Mully, and Othell Yarwyck.  

I’ll go from least to most likely mutineers, listing reasons I suspect them, and reasons I think they might not have been involved.

9&8 : Mully and Fulk the Flea.

Evidence: Ghost acts aggressively towards them while they are guarding the armory the day of the Mutiny.

Fulk the Flea [said], "but your wolf's in no mood for company today.”

Mully agreed. "He tried to take a bite o' me, he did.” (ADWD, Jon XIII)

Alibi: Neither has any history of being anti-Jon that I can find, and personally, I like Mully because he is named after Mulligan the orange cat, here pictured with Parris  

which I think is just too cute, so if either of them were involved I would prefer it were Fulk. I know that’s not a real reason but its my list and I make the rules. Anyway as I said before, Ghost being aggressive doesn’t necessarily mean guilt. At this point, Ghost is paranoid because Jon is paranoid, feeling people around him plotting against him. Fulk and Mully might just have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

7: Goady

Evidence: He was part of Jarman Buckwell’s scouting party on the Giant’s Stair, which spotted Jon among the wildlings. I imagine it would be very hard to shake the image of Jon as a wildling, even after he is elected Lord Commander. Especially if he then turns around and lets those same wildlings through the Wall.

Alibi: He does not appear in the text of ADWD, only the appendix, and his only mention in the books at all is in the Storm of Swords Chett prologue, in Kedge Whiteye’s dialogue

 “Harma the Dogshead has the van, the poxy bitch. Goady crept up on her camp and saw her” (ASOS, Prologue) 

so who knows what he’s actually up to. He may very well be with Kedge Whiteye out ranging right now, since he’s an experienced scout,  and they seem to be good buds. I just wanted to include him because he’s the only surviving member of Buckwell’s party that isn’t explicitly stated to be elsewhere.

6: Septon Cellador

Evidence: Vocally disapproving of most of Jon’s decisions, extremely homophobic towards Satin, Religiously intolerant towards followers of the old gods, and racist toward the wildlings, he is definitely a leader in the anti-Jon contingent. In fact, I don’t doubt at all that the had a hand in planning the mutiny.

Alibi: I don’t think he has the guts to actually stab anyone, and considering the mutiny took place at night, he was probably too drunk to stand, let alone participate.

5: Clydas

Evidence: Here is the Mule theory. (I don’t actually believe this, but it would be a wild curveball for GRRM to throw, and I wouldn’t put it past him) Clydas was the last person to handle the Pink Letter, being the one to give it to Jon. Clydas can read, and manages all the correspondences coming to, or going from Castle Black. This gives him ample opportunity to interfere with incoming mail. We know the letter may have been faked or at least tampered with, since the wax seal is only a smear by the time it comes into Jon’s possession. It’s entirely possible that Clydas was working with, or masterminding the mutineers to forge all or some part of the Pink Letter in order to incite Jon to forswear himself.

Here’s the thing. Clydas has been assisting Maester Aemon since before Jon Arrived at the Wall, he likely was aware of Jon’s hand in getting Sam into Chett’s position, he was privy to Jon’s chafing about being assigned to the stewards, and probably knew about Jon’s desertion attempt. Clydas helped Sam count the votes for Lord Commander, and who knows how much he figured out about the election rigging. He has never stated much of an opinion on any of it, and often plays the dim, forgettable assistant. However, what if he was smarter than he was letting on? What if his impression of Jon was that of a manipulative ambitious young man willing to cheat the system to get what he wants. What if he, knowing Jon, having observed him from the age of fourteen, and read every letter written by, to, or about him, and was likely also privy to many conversations between high officers (including his uncle) about him, knew exactly what Jon cared about, and what buttons to press that would make Jon instantly too angry to think straight, and decided to put that into action, and team up with (or even manipulate) Bowen Marsh, who had his own reasons to want Jon gone, and the command of enough men to get the job done.

Alibi: I don’t want him to be involved!! :(( He’s never been anything but kind to Jon, asking if he’s alright, seeing if he’s ok after the news about ‘Arya’, calling him Jon instead of my lord, almost fondly. I would be really sad if he was. Also, while he may have been involved in the planning and orchestration part, I don’t think he participated in the physical assassination attempt. He is frail and old with poor vision, and two hours and change before the mutiny, Jon has Mully and Satin escort him back up to his chamber in the maester’s keep because it is so icy. I don’t know if he could make it back down to the yard in the dark to do a stabbing in that time.  

4: Sweet Donnel Hill

Evidence: He was part of the Chett’s planned mutiny at the Fist of the First Men, survived the Fight at the Fist, and made it to Craster’s keep. However at Craster’s he stayed loyal to the Watch, and was among those survivors to make it back to the Wall with Grenn and Dolorous Edd. This seems to me like a man that is fully willing to get rid of a Lord Commander if he disagrees with his leadership, but who remains loyal to the principles of the Watch. This is exactly what the spirit of the mutiny was, in my opinion, and puts him high on my list. Not to mention the fact that he is a steward, and thus under Marsh’s command.

Alibi: He is not mentioned after Jon III when he is one of the archers that shoots Rattleshirt disguised as Mance as he is burned alive, he may have been sent elsewhere by the time of the mutiny, or is simply not an active enough Jon disapprover to be noticed by him, which suggests his uninvolvement.

3: Othell Yarwyck

Evidence: As I stated before, Othell is a close associate of Bowen Marsh’s and among the chorus of naysayers that become constant fixtures in Jon’s ADWD chapters. He’s a traditionalist, and a better follower than a leader. 

Othell Yarwyck was not a man of strong convictions (ASOS, Jon XIII) 

I definitely think Bowen could sway him, they are on first name terms, have worked together for a while, and probably talk about what Jon is doing that they don’t like when he isn’t there. He is also present in the Shield Hall by Bowen when Jon reads the letter, and leaves with him when he storms out.

Alibi: The first inkling we get that Bowen is harboring malice towards Jon is that he refuses wine or food in Jon VIII. At that time, Othell happily takes a seat and a sausage. As the sort not to think too deeply on things, 

Othell Yarwyck was as stolid and unimaginative as he was taciturn (ADWD. Jon V) 

he might not second guess Jon’s orders beyond what Bowen tells him to, so he might not harbor the same anti-Jon sentiments. He’s not one to rock the boat, killing the lord commander is a big boat rocking. I believe he knew about the plot, and that Bowen would want him in on it, but IDK if he would be directly involved.

2: Left Hand Lew

I must admit I have no motive for him. But he’s standing right with Bowen and Wick Whittlestick in the shield hall, 

Bowen had Wick Whittlestick, Left Hand Lew, and Alf of Runnymudd beside him] (ADWD Jon XIII)

and we have no other evidence for Wick until he physically tries to cut Jon’s throat (well besides that he is the keeper of the keys to the food stores, which would obviously be a position that worked VERY closely under Bowen Marsh), so I have to put him top of the list. He’s standing with the primary perpetrators just moments before the crime is committed. He was probably the third or fourth knife. I don’t have an alibi for him either.

1: Alf of Runnymudd

The same things can be said about Alf that have been said about Lew. He was standing with Bowen and Wick in the shield hall, he left with them when they stormed out. However. Unlike Lew or Wick, Alf has a definite motive.

In Melisandre’s chapter, we get some characterization for Alf. He is a builder, he took R’hllor for his god (of his own free will) and, most importantly, when it is revealed who was killed by the Weeper, he screams and breaks down crying to hear that Garth Greyfeather was one of them. He’s so distraught he has to be drugged and put to bed.

“Who is it?" asked Owen the Oaf. "Not Dywen, is it?"

"Nor Garth," said the queen's man she knew as Alf of Runnymudd, one of the first to exchange his seven false gods for the truth of R'hllor. "Garth's too clever for them wildlings."

"How many?" Mully asked.

"Three," Jon told them. "Black Jack, Hairy Hal, and Garth."

Alf of Runnymudd let out a howl loud enough to wake sleepers in the Shadow Tower.

"Put him to bed and get some mulled wine into him," Jon told Three-Finger Hobb.  (ADWD, Melisandre)

@nobodysuspectsthebutterfly​ has written before about the possibility that Alf and Garth were in a gay relationship. I fully subscribe to this idea, and if you know me at all, you know I am a huge proponent of the Wall Husbands concept, and think there is probably a decent population of gay men on the Wall (my main choices for this being Benjen, Dolorous Edd, Big Liddle, and Waymar Royce [you may notice the pattern of them being sons of lords who joined of their own free will. It just makes sense to me that a lord’s son who for SOME reason didn’t want to have to get married to a woman would consider the option of joining an order of men that live together and never marry]) 

So my theory regarding Alf, is that he blames Jon for the death of Garth Greyfeather, his lover. Because Jon sent the ranging out knowing full well that few rangers are making it back alive, and here’s the clincher. Despite his many crimes, Jon is still willing to pardon the Weeper  

“Surely the lord commander cannot mean to allow that ... that demon [The Weeper] through as well?” [said Bowen Marsh]

“Not gladly.” Jon had not forgotten the heads the Weeping Man had left him, with bloody holes where their eyes had been. Black Jack Bulwer, Hairy Hal, Garth Greyfeather. I cannot avenge them, but I will not forget their names. “But yes, my lord, him as well. We cannot pick and choose amongst the free folk, saying this one may pass, this one may not. Peace means peace for all. [...] When a man takes the black, his crimes are forgiven,” Jon reminded them. “If we want the free folk to fight beside us, we must pardon their past crimes as we would for our own.” (ADWD, Jon XI)

If news of that got to Alf, I easily imagine he would be fully on board with killing him, and might have gone and tried it himself even without Bowen Marsh’s prompting. All of this makes him my suspect #1 for third or fourth knife. I think his story is a tragedy and really really hope he gets some moments in TWOW and is not just killed off right away. 

[maisiestyle]

Jon’s Love for Arya and Sansa are not the same

@sweetlingsansa

​ Your recent Jon x Love post gave me a chuckle. You appear quite confused in how Jon feels about the two Stark sisters. I’m going to address the way you chose to highlight this point: I sense you’re obviously projecting the feelings he has for one sister that George goes to great lengths to show his readers. In fact, George was specifically asked that question and his answer couldn’t be more clear:

On Jon/Arya:

Granny: Are you trying to say something to the reader by drilling into us how much Arya and Jon love each other?

George_RR_Martin: “Say something to the reader?” I’m just reporting how the characters feel. Of course, everything in the book says something to the reader. 

Yet @sweetlingsansa reduces Jon’s feelings for Arya as simple family affection. Sigh. What books did you read? Very suspect. Then you falsely claim Jon apparently feels PURE, PERFECT, UNCONDITIONAL love (where?! lol) for the sister he barely spares a second, third or forth thought on? The sister he can go without seeing again if it meant he could have the other more important people back in his life. The sister that only thought about him when he was the last family she had left. 

The sister Jon didn’t spare a thought for over her plight in King’s Landing surrounded by enemies. YET multiple times, he wonders how Arya is… even though deep down he knows she must be dead. Only one sister was worth breaking his vows for. It was only one sister that occupied his last thought before he died. His dearest wishes involved her. When Jon wakes from this “death” like Beric described and Lady Stoneheart is demonstrating, the last things that were most important to the undead person at the end of their life will be their fixation when they rise again. Lady Stoneheart’s search for Arya and killing Freys & Lannisters. Revenge. With Jon, he died with a mission he pledged himself to in riding south to Winterfell to face Ramsay Bolton and get Arya back. 

“… I want my bride back … I want my bride back … I want my bride back …” was the last thing Jon considers before he decides to break his vows.

“I have my swords, thought Jon Snow, and we are coming for you, Bastard.”

Jon’s death scene in ADWD was significant. His last word was Ghost, his last feeling was pain, and his last thoughts were about a girl he loved more than anything:

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

“Jon will want me, even if no one else does.” (Unconditional) - Arya

George is just reporting how the characters feel remember:

The memory of her laughter warmed him on the long ride north. 

~*~

And Arya  …   he missed her even more than Robb, so fierce and willful. she could always make Jon smile. He would give anything to be with her now...

~*~

He remembered the day he had left Winterfell, all the bittersweet farewells; Bran lying broken, Robb with snow in his hair, Arya raining kisses on him after he’d given her Needle. 

~*~

That might mean Lord Eddard would return to Winterfell, and his sisters as well. He might even be allowed to visit them, with Lord Mormont’s permission. It would be good to see Arya’s grin again and to talk with his father. 

(These two last quotes above are striking in their exclusion of one sister. Yikes.)

~*~

He remembered suddenly how he used to muss Arya’s hair. His little stick of a sister. He wondered how she was faring. It made him a little sad to think that he might never muss her hair again. 

This is from Book 2. He thinks she is still alive? When everyone else thinks she’s dead. 

~*~

Jon had never met anyone so stubborn, except maybe for his little sister Arya. Is she still my sister? he wondered. Was she ever? 

This is just so major, the implications. Wow.

~*~

“He’s to marry Arya Stark. My little sister.” Jon could almost see her in that moment, long-faced and gawky, all knobby knees and sharp elbows, with her dirty face and tangled hair. They would wash the one and comb the other, he did not doubt, but he could not imagine Arya in a wedding gown, nor Ramsay Bolton’s bed. No matter how afraid she is, she will not show it. If he tries to lay a hand on her, she’ll fight him. 

~*~

By now she’d be eleven, Jon thought. Still a child. “I have no sister. Only brothers. Only you.” Lady Catelyn would have rejoiced to hear those words, he knew. That did not make them easier to say. His fingers closed around the parchment. Would that they could crush Ramsay Bolton��s throat as easily. 

~*~

His thoughts kept returning to Arya. There is no way I can help her. I put all kin aside when I said my words. If one of my men told me his sister was in peril, I would tell him that was no concern of his. Once a man had said the words his blood was black. Black as a bastard’s heart. He’d had Mikken make a sword for Arya once, a bravo’s blade, made small to fit her hand. Needle. He wondered if she still had it. Stick them with the pointy end, he’d told her, but if she tried to stick the Bastard, it could mean her life. 

~*~

“I have no sister.” The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister?

I love winning.

~*~

Melisandre seemed amused. “What is her name, this little sister that you do not have?” 

“Arya.” His voice was hoarse. “My half-sister, truly …” 

~*~

Gods of my fathers, protect these men. And Arya too, my little sister, wherever she might be. I pray you, let Mance find her and bring her safe to me.

~*~

He glanced at the letter again. I will save your sister if I can. A surprisingly tender sentiment from Stannis, though undercut by that final, brutal if I can and the addendum and find a better match for her than Ramsay Snow. But what if Arya was not there to be saved? What if Lady Melisandre’s flames had told it true? Could his sister truly have escaped such captors? How would she do that? Arya was always quick and clever, but in the end she’s just a little girl, and Roose Bolton is not the sort who would be careless with a prize of such great worth.

He keeps hitting that right spot. Jon the president of the Arya Stark stanclub from day mf 1. 

~*~

What if Bolton never had his sister? This wedding could well be just some ruse to lure Stannis into a trap. A grey girl on a dying horse, fleeing from her marriage. On the strength of those words he had loosed Mance Rayder and six spearwives on the north. He had even less trust in Melisandre. Yet somehow here he was, pinning his hopes on them. All to save my sister. But the men of the Night’s Watch have no sisters. 

~*~

And keep him away from the red woman. She knows who he is. She sees things in her fires.”

Arya, he thought, hoping it was so. 

~*~

“That’s good.” Jon felt fifteen years old again. Little sister. He rose and donned his cloak. 

~*~

He wanted to believe it would be Arya. He wanted to see her face again, to smile at her and muss her hair, to tell her she was safe. 

~*~

The girl smiled in a way that reminded Jon so much of his little sister that it almost broke his heart. 

~*~

The girl smiled in a way that reminded Jon so much of his little sister that it almost broke his heart. “Let him be scared of me.” The snowflakes were melting on her cheeks, but her hair was wrapped in a swirl of lace that Satin had found somewhere, and the snow had begun to collect there, giving her a frosty crown. Her cheeks were flushed and red, and her eyes sparkled.

“Winter’s lady.” Jon squeezed her hand.

~*~

He wondered where Mance was now. Did he ever find you, little sister? Or were you just a ploy he used so I would set him free?

~*~

It had been so long since he had last seen Arya. What would she look like now? Would he even know her? Would she still have that little sword he’d had Mikken forge for her? Stick them with the pointy end, he’d told her. Wisdom for her wedding night if half of what he heard of Ramsay Snow was true. 

Sill worrying about Arya’s wedding night. Wow.

~*~

Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl. 

~*~

You know nothing, Jon Snow. He thought of Arya, her hair as tangled as a bird’s nest. I made him a warm cloak from the skins of the six whores who came with him to Winterfell … I want my bride back … I want my bride back … I want my bride back … 

These aren’t even ALL the Jon/Arya quotes from the books, no conjecture, tortured symbolism, imaginary themes/loose connections/extrapolations or weak nonsense explanations, just direct quotes.

Direct. quotes.said.by/about.two.people. Something most Jonsas have very little experience with I know. The Arya quotes would fill pages. 

This wasn’t done by accident. George didn’t do this for fun. 

These two matter to eachother on a level you don’t seem to understand or want to acknowledge.

[nanoland]

title: Compass Rose 

series: Lucifer (TV) 

pairings: Mazikeen/Eve

summary: In which Mazikeen exercises her renowned patience. 

warnings: Lucifer is kind of a dick in this. Not intentionally; he’s just young and colossally self-centered. 

 Also on Ao3! 

0 

“You. Demon. What’s your name?” asks the Morningstar, looking bored and depressed, as usual.

She straightens up, brimming with nerves and excitement, feeling her acidic blood bubble happily because he’s so handsome! And he’s talking to her! Her siblings will shriek with jealousy when they hear of this. “Mazikeen, my liege.”

“Mazikeen,” he repeats, mispronouncing it. “Great. Maze, do something about… all that, would you? It’s dreadfully grating.”

He gestures to the sea of damned, miserable human souls milling around the base of his throne, calling up to him for help or mercy.

“Yes, my liege,” she says, her bright mind already hard at work planning the next few millennia of punishment.

 0 

“Maze, is there a letter from Amenadiel?”

Mazikeen is now four hundred years old and in all that time, not a single letter has arrived in Hell, from Amenadiel or anyone else. Regardless, her handsome king asks every week.

It’s fine. She’s far too mature and cunning to feel even the slightest scrap of envy towards some pompous old angel she’s never even met, regardless of how obviously Lucifer loves him.

Regardless of how obvious it is that he loves no one in Hell half as much.

“No, my liege.”

“Hmm. Fine. Whatever. Fuck him, then. Brothers – who needs ‘em?”

She nods. She herself has many, many brothers, and sisters, and siblings who are neither or both, and she certainly doesn’t need them.

(Sometimes she longs for them, especially when she’s weary from the years and years dedicated to building and securing Lucifer’s kingdom, but she never needs. Needing is for the weak.)

It occurs to her that that king might be cheered by stories of Tradiusis, her most treasured and most useless brother, who is prone to chatting with the damned and asking them about all the silly human indulgences they enjoyed in life, like movies and theme parks and hot dogs. Fool that he is, the mere thought of him always brings a smile to her face.

But she decides against it, suspecting that if she were to begin telling Lucifer about her family, he’d get that same dull, faintly irritated expression she sees every time she reads him a report about the number of new arrivals and how various parts of Hell will need to be restructured to accommodate them all.

(She wonders what will happen when Hell is full – does he have a plan? Is she expected to have a plan?)

(How long, exactly, are they supposed to keep doing this?)

(Surely this can’t be all they were made for?)  

 0  

“Maze, get me a drink, would you?”

Mazikeen is Lucifer’s right hand, his bodyguard, the highest-ranked demon in Hell, named the Lady of Pain, the Whirlwind, and the Blood Dancer by her peers and underlings.

Pouring drinks is… new to her.

But this is what he wants; this club, this loud music, these inebriated humans constantly demanding attention and entertainment, constantly needing to be managed. And he’s her king.

She pours him his drink and listens to him play the piano, until some wretch attempts to grope her and loses two fingers.

 0 

Running a nightclub is, it turns out, complicated.

There are all sorts of rules and regulations regarding what can and cannot be done inside it.

At one point, Lucifer decides it would be fun to have white tigers roaming the dance floor. After a few days spent looking into that option, she has to explain that they may to have settle for waitresses dressed as tigers. He pouts like it’s her fault and goes back to the piano.

She’s also not allowed to kill anyone, which is, honestly, ridiculous. Mazikeen is an ancient being, a warrior nigh unparalleled, with centuries of experience contending with the worst the human race has to offer, and every single night she endures treatment from at least one of Lucifer’s guests that, even to her vast, reasonable, and patient mind, clearly warrants swift annihilation.

If murder is, indeed, illegal, how do all the mortal women in this city who serve drinks cope?

“You block it out, I guess,” says Suzy, a waitress with thick red hair and tired eyes, after Mazikeen has had to save her yet again from a patron with wandering hands (and now broken hands). “You know, just… don’t let it get to you. Grow a thick skin.”

Mazikeen considers the half of her body that has no skin whatsoever and snickers inappropriately. Then she gifts Suzy one of her knives.

 0 

Chloe gasps. “Maze! No! Absolutely not!”

“Why?” she asks, annoyed but also genuinely curious.

“I can’t just torture a suspect to get information, Maze. It’s wrong.”

Mazikeen considers saying: You already torture people. You lock them up in tiny boxes until their minds break and their lives are utterly ruined. How is that different? I don’t understand.

Mazikeen considers saying: You let Lucifer violate peoples’ innermost selves to obtain information. How is that better? I don’t understand.

Mazikeen considers saying: I don’t want to be good. I don’t care about being good. So why do I seem to put so much more thought into how to be good than you do? I don’t understand, I don’t, I don’t.

Instead, Mazikeen rolls her eyes and says nothing.

 0 

“Maze! No! What were you thinking?” cries Linda, rushing over to the cradle. “You can’t give that to a baby!”

She snatches away Mazikeen’s present; a blade, small and silver, just right for tiny hands, the same blade Mazikeen herself received from her favourite sister on her fourth birthday. It has tasted the blood of over a hundred enemies.

Charlie starts to cry and Linda puts the blade aside so she can pick him up and comfort him.

“Children need to be able to protect themselves,” Mazikeen insists.

“No, Maze. Children need to be protected.”

“No one protected me.”

Linda doesn’t say: Exactly. Why would I want my son to be anything like you?

Because Linda is kind.

But Mazikeen is perceptive and she sees it in her friend’s eyes all the same.

 0 

“So then, then it turns out that Jon Snow is actually Daenarys Targaryen’s cousin, right, which makes him – oh no! – a rival contender for the Iron Throne, and…”

“Ugh,” Mazikeen groans, cutting Ella off. “I thought this was a show about dragons! Why does it waste so much time on people either fucking or killing their relatives?”

She laughs at Mazikeen’s exaggerated annoyance. “It’s not just about dragons. There’s a lot of stuff about politics and war and, yeah, fucked-up family dynamics. Honestly, that’s one of the reasons it grips me so much. My own family’s always got a ton of drama going on, too. I mean – no incest. Not that I’m aware of. But you know all about my brothers.”

Mazikeen is about to ask what the dragons look like – whether the show’s version bears any resemblance to the beasts she’s ridden into battle – when Ella tilts her head sideways and squints at her. “Huh. Now that I think about it… I’ve told you all about my brothers but I’ve never asked anything about your family. That was shitty of me! Can I ask now? Or is it, like, one of those things you don’t talk about? Like where you’re from and how you met Lucifer?”

Fiddling with a lock of her hair – it’s straight and black today – Mazikeen says, “I don’t mind talking about it. Just… most people don’t care.”

Ella frowns, briefly (cutely, curse her). “Well, I wanna know! You got any brothers?”

“Yeah.”

“How many?”

“A lot. I’m not actually sure exactly how many there are now.”

“Oh, right. Gotcha. Are you close to any of them?”

“Not these days. But when we were young, we were pretty tight-knit. Didn’t really have anyone besides each other.”

Ella asks her more questions and though she has to keep her answers extremely vague, Mazikeen finds that she likes talking about her home and her childhood. Prolonged exposure to the human world has begun to make her feel insubstantial; a tool, a disguise, a thing without roots or history. Lucifer’s been no help with that, for he’s only ever known her as his servant (and, sometimes, when he’s in a good mood, his friend, by virtue of the fact that friendship with someone who works for you – who can do nothing but work for you – requires no tedious emotional labour whatsoever).

It’s nice to remember that she has, in fact, been other things. That she could, perhaps, be other things in the future.

 0 

“So,” Dan slurs, hunched over his beer. “You got whores… hordes… horns? Thought demons had horns.”

She’s busy applying a fresh coat of candy-pink lipstick to match her powder-blue bob. “Some do. I don’t.”

“Well, that sucks. That’s not fair! You deserve horns. You’re cool, Maze.”

Because that provokes a twinge of genuine affection, she says, “Wanna see what I have got?”

“Hell, yeah!”

He grins drunkenly.

“You need to promise not to scream.”

“Oh – oh, man, is it scary? Is it gross?”

She shows him her true face.

After a moment of owlish blinking, he shrugs and returns to his beer. “Eh. S’not that gross. Lucifer’s grosser. Wanna play pool?”

 0 

Amenadiel presents her with a beautiful black sheath. “I crafted it from my own feathers. It will keep the blade contained until he’s old enough to wield it safely.”

She slides Charlie’s knife into it. “Someone will need to teach him.”

“Who taught you?”

“Me? No one. They just threw us at one another and clapped for whoever survived. But… well. He’s not like me, is he?”

The angel places the sheathed blade down beside Charlie’s stuffed rabbit and plastic truck. “Maybe not now. With any luck, that will change.”

 0 

“Ma-aaze,” Lucifer groans, flopping back in his armchair with his long legs artfully folded and his hand over his eyes. “I’ve had such a tiresome morning. Pour me a drink, would you?”

“Pour it your damn self,” she suggests, standing on his penthouse’s balcony and admiring the view. His throne in Hell was about as tall as this building. From up here, all the little people down below look exactly the same.

He pouts and fetches a glass – and, to her surprise, one for her as well.

 0 

Mazikeen brings an abrupt, efficient end to the bar fight by slamming her palm into an assailant’s solar plexus.

He drops like a ton of bricks, joining the pile of groaning men, broken furniture, and smashed bottles. (Shit; it’s going to take ages to clean all this up. If Lucifer didn’t have infinite money, Lux would have gone bankrupt eight times by now.)

She turns to see Eve staring at her, beautiful mouth hanging open, and braces herself for the “Maze! No!”.

“That was so cool,” Eve breathes, and rushes over to leap into Mazikeen’s arms, only to draw back at the last second. “Oh no! You’re hurt!”

There is, indeed, a small cut on Mazikeen’s left hand.

“Don’t care, doesn’t matter,” says Mazikeen, reaching for her, wanting badly to be kissed.

But Eve drags her into a quiet back room where she applies disinfectant and bandaids with cartoon cats on them.

“I really wanna learn how you did that thing with your elbow,” she chatters, wiping away a few spots of blood with a white handkerchief. “The way his nose just went crunch! – man, it was fantastic.”

“I can teach you. If you like.”

Eve’s dark eyes are fond. “You’re always offering to do something for me – to teach me how to fight, or to carry something, or to protect me. It’s… like, I love it. But you know you don’t have to, right?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“I wanna do stuff for you sometimes. Oh! That reminds me. Lucifer was going to take Chloe to a wrestling match but then they had another fight and he’s back to being sad, sooo I stole the tickets out of his jacket. Wanna go?”

“I love you,” says Mazikeen, even though she’s said it five times today. She likes the way it sounds in her mouth. She likes the way it makes Eve’s whole face sparkle.

“I love you too, babe.”

[kissed-by-snow]

My Take on the Radiant Quote

Jon noticed the shy looks she [Myrcella] gave Robb as they passed between the tables and the timid way she smiled at him. He decided she was insipid. Robb didn't even have the sense to realize how stupid she was; he was grinning like a fool.

His half sisters escorted the royal princes. Arya was paired with plump young Tommen, whose white-blond hair was longer than hers.

Sansa, two years older, drew the crown prince, Joffrey Baratheon [...] Sansa looked radiant as she walked beside him, but Jon did not like Joffrey's pouty lips or the bored, disdainful way he looked at Winterfell's Great Hall. 

- A Game of Thrones, Jon I

Let me begin by saying I don’t think Jon describes Sansa this way because of  a romantic interest in her. However,  I do think this quote is interesting because it describes their relationship in a different way and has other implications. One way to read this quote is by contrasting to how he sees about Myrcella to how he sees Sansa. 

Objectively, both Sansa and Myrcella feel the same about the boys escorting them - flushed and lovestruck, but Jon calls Sansa radiant and Myrcella insipid and stupid.

The reason for this could be multiple things:

he’s notes how happy she is (notice he doesn’t talk about Arya’s appearance - which is probably either disappointed, disgruntled or neutral - most likely because Sansa’s happiness is so vibrant)

a side observation might be that he’s never seen Sansa look so happy?

he’s happy that she’s happy (calls her radiant when he could have mocked her admiration by calling her insipid)

This leads me to believe that their relationship isn’t as bad as people usually interpret it to be. I think they had a fairly neutral relationship but didn’t have much to bond over (he’s into swords, she’s into embroidery he was a punk, she did ballet, what more can I say) and with contrasting personalities, tended not to gravitate towards each other. So, a neutral but respectful relationship considering their own duties, roles and how they spend their time (which was mainly in different social circles).

Now, the people Jon most frequently remembers are his father (for obvious reasons) Robb and Arya.

First, let’s begin with Jon’s relationship with Robb.

Robb, his rival and best friend and constant companion;

- AGOT, Jon III

Jon told the story of how he and Robb had found the pups newborn in the late summer snows.

Robb and Bran and Rickon were his father's sons, and he loved them still, yet Jon knew that he had never truly been one of them.

Jon had often hunted with his father and Jory and his brother Robb. He knew the wolfswood around Winterfell as well as any man

- AGOT Jon IV

Jon was still not certain how he felt about it. Robb a king? The brother he'd played with, fought with, shared his first cup of wine with? But not mother's milk, no. So now Robb will sip summerwine from jeweled goblets, while I'm kneeling beside some stream sucking snowmelt from cupped hands. "Robb will make a good king," he said loyally.

- ACOK, Jon I

...so Robb and he used to climb the towers of Winterfell to shout at each other across the yard.

- ASOS, Jon VII

Once Jon had meant to prove them wrong, to show his lord father that he could be as good and true a son as Robb. I made a botch of that. Robb had become a hero king; if Jon was remembered at all, it would be as a turncloak, an oathbreaker, and a murderer. He was glad that Lord Eddard was not alive to see his shame.

- ASOS, Jon X

When Jon had been very young, too young to understand what it meant to be a bastard, he used to dream that one day Winterfell might be his. Later, when he was older, he had been ashamed of those dreams. Winterfell would go to Robb and then his sons, or to Bran or Rickon should Robb die childless. 

- ASOS, Jon XI

You can't be the Lord of Winterfell, you're bastard-born, he heard Robb say again. And the stone kings were growling at him with granite tongues. You do not belong here.

A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. 

- ASOS, Jon XII

It reminded him of warmer, simpler days, when he had been a boy at Winterfell matching blades with Robb under the watchful eye of Ser Rodrik Cassel

- ADWD, Jon VI

From the above quotes, we see that Jon’s memories oscillate between feeling fond and mildly resentful/jealous of his brother. They’ve been together the longest and had the most in common but Jon was constantly aware of the distance in status between them. And when you consider the fact that Ned wanted Jon to have the best education possible, Robb and Jon had more reasons to spend time together but his status as a bastard in comparison to Robb’s as the heir of Winterfell, does seem to hold him a little back from having a bond as close as the one he has to Arya. 

Now Jon and Arya almost seem to have too many reasons to be close. From sharing the Stark look (which in the books, only they share and which may have made Jon feel a little better compared to Robb) to feeling out of place (Jon as a bastard and Arya not wanting to conform to traditional femininity) and having common interests (fighting, mainly). Add on to the fact that Arya is almost just as likely to inherit Winterfell as Jon? Yeah, they have every reason to be close.  

And Arya … he missed her even more than Robb, skinny little thing that she was, all scraped knees and tangled hair and torn clothes, so fierce and willful. Arya never seemed to fit, no more than he had … yet she could always make Jon smile. 

AGOT, Jon III

Something about her made him think of Arya, though they looked nothing at all alike

ACOK, Jon VI

She wasn't wed and her weapon of choice was a short curved bow of horn and weirwood, but "spearwife" fit her all the same. She reminded him a little of his sister Arya, though Arya was younger and probably skinnier

ASOS, Jon II

Jon Snow sank to one knee in the snow. Gods of my fathers, protect these men. And Arya too, my little sister, wherever she might be. I pray you, let Mance find her and bring her safe to me.

But what if Arya was not there to be saved? What if Lady Melisandre's flames had told it true? Could his sister truly have escaped such captors? How would she do that? Arya was always quick and clever, but in the end she's just a little girl, and Roose Bolton is not the sort who would be careless with a prize of such great worth.

ADWD, Jon VII

He wanted to believe it would be Arya. He wanted to see her face again, to smile at her and muss her hair, to tell her she was safe. She won't be safe, though. Winterfell is burned and broken and there are no more safe places.

Wherever he might send her, though, Arya would need silver to support her, a roof above her head, someone to protect her. She was only a child.

“Once Cregan gets a child by me they won't need me anymore. He's buried two wives already." She rubbed away a tear angrily, the way Arya might have done it. "Will you help me?"

ADWD, Jon IX

It had been so long since he had last seen Arya. What would she look like now? Would he even know her? Arya Underfoot. Her face was always dirty. Would she still have that little sword he'd had Mikken forge for her? Stick them with the pointy end, he'd told her. Wisdom for her wedding night if half of what he heard of Ramsay Snow was true. Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl.

ADWD, Jon XI

Compared to Robb, every memory Jon has of Arya is positive. He emphasizes their similarities and feels protective of her as she was the closest family member to him (and he still thinks of her as a child in ADWD which is why Jonarya makes me feel more than a little uncomfortable). He sees her in everything and everyone because she’s directly tied to his happiest memories and is his closest tie to the Stark family.

TL: DR - So, the reason he reminisces about Robb is because he grew up with him (and was a similar age to him, had the same education and also shared a father) and even more with Arya because they related to each other the most and had the Stark look (especially Arya because he doesn’t have the attached semi-resentment of Robb becoming the lord of winterfell, because it’s what he’s always wanted).

This doesn’t mean that Jon and Sansa’s relationship was awful or horrible or that they hated each other. Just that Jon has more memories and similarities to Robb and Arya.

Moving forward, I would like to see them develop a closer relationship (once they reunite - I’m tentatively in the camp of Grey Girl Sansa -  through their own reciprocal experiences (Jon, from bastard to Lord Commander, and Sansa, from Lady to Bastard), learning the value of home (both Jon and Sansa were most eager to leave, albeit for different reasons) and coming to appreciate each other’s compatible but different skill sets. 

[prosopopeya]

New Year’s Meme

this survey has been a tradition among my friend group for YEARS, but i haven’t filled it out since 2015 apparently. i’m not entirely sure why except 2016 was the year a lot of stuff changed for me, namely in that i finally got out of school in some form and started a new job, but i also had a few health problems that kept plaguing me (thyroid medicine being off, vitamin d) and my anxiety was all over the place. so here we go i’m doing it again and feel free to do it too if you want!!

1. What did you do in 2020 that you’d never done before? tried on wedding dresses. taught virtually. dealt (poorly) with drunk teenagers. performed in a pep rally. wore face masks all the time. i’m going to lump in living with someone. jon moved in october 2019, but i don’t think i did this quiz last year so. taught ap.

2. Did you keep your New Years’ resolutions and will you make more for next year? i don’t really like resolutions. they put too much pressure on me and i am a fragile person when it comes to setting expectations and living up to them. i did want to try to read more this year, and i maintained that until the pandemic, and then just kind of gave up requiring myself to do anything but live.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? i don’t think so. a coworker did.

4. Did anyone close to you die? jon’s cousin committed suicide in march or april. the circumstances were pretty upsetting. um. andy died in february, very suddenly. andy was my high school boyfriend for four years with whom i had a very... he scarred me in a lot of ways when it comes to sex and consent. it’s taken me a long time to unpack all of that. and i struggle with how much any of that was his fault or just bc he was a stupid kid too. our mutual friends had nothing but nice things to say about him on fb. anyway. he would guilt me into saying he’d kill himself if we broke up, and jon’s cousin killed himself over his girlfriend. so that was a complex part of the year.

5. What countries did you visit? none. literally the week before the quarantine, we went to asheville to visit jon’s cousin.

6. What would you like to have in 2021 that you lacked in 2020? maybe a different job? or at least some peace at doing mine.

7. What date from 2020 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? march 13 we cancelled classes and had a technology training day; the 15th we had another one, and then we were virtual the rest of the term. it was such a sudden shift and while i so loved working from home tbh, it was such a relief after a supremely shitty january/february work-wise, i still had a lot of keyed-up, stressful days centered around transitioning to being the senior upper school spanish teacher. i hate it!

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? writing 50k in the month of november. i have literally never done that before and actively reject nano as being typically unhealthy for how my mind works, so it was nice to do it entirely by accident.

9. What was your biggest failure? mishandling the drunken teenagers on that field trip in january.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? i sit crosslegged in my virtual teaching chair and i did it so much that my ankle hurt for the entire summer.

11. What was the best thing you bought? we put a deposit on our elopement in ireland. jon’s wedding ring. (i didn’t buy my wedding dress.)

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? my best friend at work who keeps me sane and is represented by benny in my au, which other than the fact that he is not my sidepiece, is perfect he is crucial to my survival at work and i love him so much. (also he is gay and the french teacher so the benny parallels just keep coming). everyone who tore down a statue in virginia (and other places, but especially monument avenue). everyone putting their lives on the line during this pandemic.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? guess! but aside from all the obvious, i found out a friend of mine at work voted for trump. my work bff and i had been trying for years to sway his politics, but that had us both deciding to give up on him.

14. Where did most of your money go?  food, ALCOHOL. god., our savings account. i did a pretty excellent job saving this year, though a good deal of that is because jon moved in and makes more money than me, and also we split all the bills.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? my wedding dress but strangely only when i went to try it on after it came in bc after the purchase i was so sure i’d made every mistake possible. my wedding band. wellbutrin changing my whole life. and, last but certainly not least, the gay angel and the bi(lingual) hunter. i wouldn’t have survived nov-dec in school without that distraction. the election.

16. What song(s) will always remind you of 2020? the entirety of taylor swift’s oeuvre this year, maybe specifically “this is me trying”

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:  i. Happier or sadder? happier, i suppose, perhaps contrary to what should be the case, but wellbutrin is a hell of a drug. ii. Older or wiser? wiser. ii. Richer or poorer? richer.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of? reading. cleaning. exercising.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of? stressing. chaperoning.

20. How will you be spending Christmas? so, an update; last year was the first year i didn’t go to my mom’s for christmas. i was supposed to see her for thanksgiving last year, but she basically told us not to come bc she wasn’t feeling up to it (cool!), and we went to jon’s for christmas and my mom’s for new year’s. 

this year, obviously we couldn’t go to my mom’s. instead, we rented a little cabin by the lake. it was perfect; it was really really nice inside, the beds were SO SOFT, the pillows were the best things i have ever laid my head on, like i took off the pillowcases to try to find the brand. we had a little tiny christmas tree with tiny ornaments from walmart that we decorated. the 23rd, we went and picked up our wedding bands. we slept two nights in the (cold) back bedroom so i could wake up and look out at the lake. it snowed for christmas. :)

we opened presents on christmas eve, per jon’s family’s tradition. on christmas eve, we also went to his family farm and sat outside and hung out a little. every year his family does like a secret santa sort of thing and i got my first present in that exchange, which is notable bc jon and i are not yet officially married. i got a remote control car -- jon’s idea bc i couldn’t think of anything, and he was so delighted to hear that i loved playing with rc cars when we went to the beach as a kid.

christmas morning we facetimed my parents and opened some presents together. then jon and i marathoned mandalorian (after spending the previous few days watching several die hard movies), and then we watched wonder woman 1984 which was a bad movie.

21. How will you be spending New Year’s Eve? ok LAST year for new year’s, we were in a hotel room, so that was nice, bc it meant minimal stress with my parents. i had always wanted to go to this restaurant near us that has a special new year’s menu, so we did that. the night before or after i think we went to cheesecake factory, which was also amazing.

this year currently i’m tumbling and he’s playing pokemon, and in a bit we’ll try to time it so we finish schitt’s creek in time for the new year.

22. Did you fall in love in 2020? i re-fell in love with supernatural so that was nice.

23. How many one-night stands? 0. i submit we should randomly change question 23 each year to something more relevant to any of our life experiences.

24. What was your favorite TV program? what did i even watch this year. schitt’s creek. mandalorian. i mean obviously we know supernatural. the circle. are you the one (the queer season). pose. unsolved mysteries. we’re here! perry mason. watchmen. oh maybe that mcdonald’s monopoly fraud documentary. avenue 5. i’ll be gone in the dark. of those i think my favorite maybe is... pose or we’re here.

OKAY UM. on my 2014 version of this there were a bunch of questions about tv shows that i’m putting back in if only for the memories:

25. Which TV shows did you start watching in 2020? the haunting of bly manor, which we still need to finish. derry girls.

26. Which TV shows did you let go of in 2020? HERE’S WHY I WANTED TO RESURRECT THESE. here was my answer in 2015: “supernatural. goodbye, my sweet prince.” CAN YOU EVEN FUCKING BELIEVE

27. Which TV shows did you mean to get into but didn’t in 2020? Why? so far, queen’s gambit and that one on hulu with catherine the great. EVENTUALLY. 28. Which TV shows do you intend on checking out in 2020? fleabag. queen’s gambit. 29. Which TV show do you think you might let go of in 2020 unless things significantly improve? idk i drop things pretty regularly if they don’t entertain me 30. Which TV show impressed you least in 2020? GUYS HERE’S MY ORIGINAL 2015 ANSWER: “supernatural. :(”

anyway back to the rest of the quiz:

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? every person who refuses to listen to facts and information.

26. What was the best book you read? killers of the flower moon: the osage murders and the birth of the fbi, or the his dark materials series.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery? well i knew about tswift so i’m not going to count her albums. i will count this song that jon played for me once in the car that got stuck in my head for two weeks straight and led me down into a great related-songs spotify playlist: through the roof ‘n underground.

28. What did you want and get? a wedding dress and a very specific kind of wedding band. a gay angel. a christmas getaway. animal crossing.

29. What was your favorite film of this year? idk i don’t know how many films i saw this year. maybe mucho mucho amor: the legend of walter mercado

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? i was 32. we went to an escape room with a BUNCH of people -- work bff, my old work bff and his wife (old bc he quit and we’ve fallen out of touch :(), the cool new physics teacher and his fiancee, and the aforementioned trump voter and his wife, before we knew... we went out for brunch/lunch after. it was pretty great!

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? not having to chaperone that school trip in january. dean being bi in english as well as spanish. cas just ilke, appearing in 15x20. not having to physically go back to work this fall.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2020? no! real! pants!

34. What kept you sane? jon. supernatural (in a way?). animal crossing for a while. wellbutrin! i haven’t really been able to detail this yet, but finally i did something about tumblr and my therapist making me think about adhd. my doctor gave me wellbutrin (bc i lack any official diagnosis and was on anxiety meds anyway, and he was like let’s try this!) and it’s fucking. it’s a fucking godsend. surprisingly enough, my students. trying to provide them a safe space has been a calming thing for me.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? jensen ackles’ silence. misha collins again, i guess.

36. What political issue stirred you the most? the summer was so fucking intense. i guess though it was me trying to exert my influence in a responsible way with my students without trying to try to make them feel uncomfortable but then one kid was a vocally upset trump supporter after the election and i had to try to defuse that situation.

37. Who did you miss? my old work bff. several old friends that i’ve fallen out of touch with bc i have no object permanence.

38. Who was the best new person you met? people i met through the spn resurgence!

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2020: if you manifest it in an au, it will come. no really though. maybe that expectations are only as important as i make them out to be.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year: usually i have a hard time coming up with anything for this and i default to looking at my most played songs of the year. my most played song of the year received each and every one of its plays within the month of november and you can guess why. anyway see if this works

I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Take me back to the night we met - the night we met, lord huron

[queen-of-songs]

The Accidental Crush of Sansa Stark and the recurring annoyance that followed- Chapter 2 pt.1

"Sansa? If you could date any boy counselors here, who would you date?" Shireen, an adorable little camper asked as she walked all of them to canoeing. Sansa paused. Was her developing attraction that obvious? One of the golden staff rules was that there were to be no summer romances or if there was one, to be discreet to the point leadership didn't have any suspicions.

"She'd date Harry of course! Have you seen the way he looks at her?!" Beth giggled. "They would be like Ariel and...Philip!"

"Philip is Aurora's prince, Beth. Ariel's prince is Eric remember?" Alys shook her head at Beth. "I think Sansa would be happiest with Sam!"

"Sam likes Gilly, he blushes every time he's around her," Osha spoke up and the girls around her nodded in agreement.

"Sansa should go out with Dickon, he's so handsome!" Minisa sighed dreamily while Lyanna rolled her eyes.

"Can't you all see Sansa likes...." Lyanna began before Sansa interrupted her. "Girls, I appreciate you all comparing me to a Disney princess and wishing for my happiness. But I assure you, I don't feel that way toward anyone here."

Most of the girls seemed convinced by her little white lie and forgot about their question within seconds. All except for Lyanna. Lyanna stood behind while the other girls went down to the canoeing river. She tilted her head at Sansa in curiosity and Sansa took a deep breath.

"What is it Lyanna?"

"I saw you look at Jon at the pool yesterday."

"Lyanna, I had sunglasses on. I was looking at everyone in the pool." Sansa scoffed, hoping the defiant little camper would drop it. But Lyanna raised her chin with a sly smile on her face.

"Maybe that's true. But I saw you look at him a couple of times today at breakfast and you didn't have sunglasses then. You get a big smile on your face when he's around like the Disney princesses do."

Perhaps I should tone it down a bit.

Sansa took a moment to collect herself and sighed. "Lyanna, Jon is my coworker and friend. I smile when I see all my coworkers..."

"It's different with Jon. That's the way my mom looked at my dad before he died." Lyanna sadly smiled and quickly ran off to join her fellow campers, while Sansa stood in silence.

——————————-

"Girls, can I ask you something?" Sansa asked as she turned up the volume to skype her friends during break time. Margaery was in the process of making an anniversary gift for Theon, Dany was painting her nails so they could be ready for her date night with Daario, Missandei was painting a portrait for Grey, and Brienne was ordering a knife for Jaime's birthday.

"Sure, Sansa!" They all sang in unison.

"Am I being too obvious if one of my campers can tell who I am attracted to?" Sansa spoke quickly, hoping they missed it. But judging by how they were all looking at each other as if they were in the Brady Bunch credits, they did.

"OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Missandei shouted.

"I bet it's Harry! Margaery surmised.

"I think it's Dickon. Did you see the pics Sansa posted that tagged him in? They'd be absolutely perfect together!" Dany sighed happily.

"Well, are you going to tell us who it is?" Brienne rose an eyebrow.

"It's the guy I told you all about that pissed me off a few weeks ago. We've patched things up and he's really...cool." Sansa blushed and saw their collective smiles.

"You never told us Mr. Broody's name, what is it?" Margaery inquired.

"His name is Jon, Jon Snow," Sansa responded, and immediately Dany spat out her drink. "Jon Snow?! You like him?!"

"Yeah. Do you know him Dany?" Sansa asked, confused out of her mind.

"He's my nephew," Dany responded and Margaery's eyes widened. "Dany, how on earth do you have a nephew the same age as you?"

"Remember my older brother Rhaegar? Jon is his whoops kid after he had an affair while Elia was in a coma." Dany shrugged.

"Oh yeah! But you've never mentioned him before, why is that?" Missandei asked in curiosity.

"I didn't know he existed until he came to live with Rhaegar and Elia four years ago. He's hasn't been around much because he was either going to school or working at camp." Dany answered and Brienne leaned forward. "Dany, what were you going to add about Jon earlier when Sansa mentioned that she liked him?"

"He's a great guy...but Sansa, he has a girlfriend. Her name is Lysa Tully. He's been dating her for years. I am truly sorry, Sansa." Dany's face was full of sadness.

"Dany, don't be sorry! I'm glad you told me before I made a fool of myself. Now I can be more cognizant of my actions." Sansa put her hands in a heart shape and Dany laughed as she responded with heart hands back.

"But damn, I wish it were different. It would be so cool to have you as my sis...niece in law. Seven hells, that's so weird...."Dany began before all the girls cackled in unison.

Before long, Margaery narrowed her eyes. That typically meant she was vying for information. "Dany, give us the deets on Lysa."

"My brother and Elia think she's a character," Dany grimaced.

"That sounds like how my grandmother would describe Mr. Baelish and Mr.Varys," Margaery hummed.

"Rhaenys tolerates her and Aegon can't stand to be in the same room as her. My experience made me want to slap her, honestly."

"What happened?" Brienne inquired and Dany sighed. "She made Daario feel uncomfortable because he's not from "here," whatever "here" is supposed to mean."

"Oh. She's one of those types of people... ew does that mean Jon is as well???" Missandei rose an eyebrow.

"No, not by a long shot. Jon is super passionate about social issues and has always been involved in some way or another. He and Lysa got into an argument after she made Daario feel uncomfortable. She ended up apologizing, though I didn't think it was truly genuine. I think it was only to show Jon that she was "improving." Dany shrugged, while Brienne, Margaery, and Missandei collectively sighed. Sansa bit the inside of her cheek.

Of course, he has a girlfriend. He's good looking and has a kind soul. Who was I kidding? Well, maybe I can try to be his friend at least. Yes. That's what I'll do and my feelings will go away. They have before and they will now.

After making her decision, Sansa spoke up.

"Well ladies, enough about me and my sad crush life. Tell me about all your individual plans with your guys!!!!!!"

———————————-

"Sansa, you should go! I'm sure it'll be loads of fun!" Her co-counselor Mya exclaimed.

The leadership team decided last minute to have counselor late-night swim and Sansa internally debated if she really wanted to go.

If I am trying to friendzone my crush, shouldn't I try to limit the times I see him wet and shirtless?

"I'm really tired, Mya. I just want to take a hot shower, it's been a really long day."

It wasn't necessarily a bad excuse. It had been a long day. It hadn't even been five minutes after Sansa ended her skype call with her friends when she heard Dickon radio for her help. Two of the girls got into a fight during canoeing and poor Beth cried the entire time after she fell backward in the river. The next skill area didn't fare well either after Minisa got bit by a brown recluse and had to go to the hospital. Then later in the day, the porch swing broke off at the merchandise store and Lyanna sprained her ankle. Sansa had gotten well acquainted with nurse Thoros. Because she worked so well with the little ones, she typically made calls throughout the week but never this many in one week.

"That's true but Sansa, you've been such a trooper today. You deserve a break." Mya reasoned.

"You were there too, Mya. I wouldn't have survived today without you, honestly. In fact, why don't you go tonight and I'll go tomorrow?" Sansa responded.

"Are you sure, Sansa?"

"Absolutely."

"Aww thanks, Sansa." Mya smiled and hugged Sansa tight for a few seconds before going to her room in the cabin to get a bathing suit.

"Oh by the way Mya, I'd wear the blue one. Harry blushes a little when you wear it." Sansa looked at her nails while Mya's mouth slightly dropped.

"How did you know?! I thought I was hiding it well."

"You are! I'm the only one who can really tell because I'm a big sucker for enemies to lovers so I can tell by the little things."

"...Harry blushed a little when I wore it last?"

"Yeah and I'm pretty sure he was going to say something before one of his campers jumped in the pool with his stuffed kittens." Sansa and Mya began chuckling as they remembered the sweet little boy who wanted to prove cats weren't afraid of water.

"Well thank you for the heads up, Sansa." Mya began to leave before leaning back in the doorway. "Should I wear my braids up or down?"

"Do whatever makes you feel confident."

"I'm going to wear them down. Harry Hardyng, here I come." Mya sang as she left the cabin into the hall to go change.

"Sansa?" a soft whisper woke her up and she could see Mya's outline by the bed. Sansa rose up on her elbow and she could tell Mya wanted to talk out in the hall. She followed her out quietly and then sat against the wall.

"Mya, how was it?" Sansa rose an eyebrow and a deep blush appeared on Mya's brown skin.

"It was wonderful. We... we kissed under the water. It was magical." Mya sighed happily and Sansa's heart leaped with joy.

"Did anyone see you two?"

"Surprisingly and thankfully, no. Everyone was distracted by Sam and Gilly. He finally asked her out!"

"Sounds like a good night for everyone it seems." Sansa smiled and closed her eyes for just a moment before Mya spoke up.

"Do you like anyone Sansa?" Sansa opened her eyes to see Mya have an eyebrow raised.

"Erm... not really." Sansa lied and Mya scoffed as she began redoing her braids.

"Are you sure? Because I'm pretty sure I saw you staring at your former pool duty partner a bit the other day. Is that why you switched?"

"For one, for some reason, I thought Jon was going tonight before I remembered he and Harry are co's this week. Two, it doesn't matter how I feel."

"Why doesn't it matter, Sansa?"

"Because he has a girlfriend." Sansa's voice cracked a little and Mya's face filled with sorrow.

"I'm sorry I brought it up, Sansa."

"It's okay."

"What's your game plan?"

"My game plan? I want to become his friend and try to friendzone him."

"Friendzone your crush, hmm. I've never heard of that before. How are you going to do it?"

"Ask him about his girlfriend, what he likes, try to steer from anything super personal, keep a healthy distance, and....I'll talk about guys I find attractive."

"Besides Jon, who else would you want to go on a date with at camp?"

"Not really." Sansa shrugged.

"Any guys back home?"

"Um sort of I guess? If you count teammates/friends Robb brings home during breaks. His is name is Pyp. He's really cool and kind." Sansa smiled.

"Ooh tell me more!" Mya rested her face on her hands as the girls did during storytime before bed.

"He's majoring in Civil Engineering. He plays left wing on the hockey team at White Harbor, he's pretty good. I wouldn't be surprised if he was drafted in the WHL. He's pretty funny and a movie buff."

"Why didn't you go on a date with him then?"

"I was scared after everything that went down with Waymar, that I was a little hesitant to date."

"What did happen with Waymar?" Mya questioned.

"I made a fool out myself for him. I wore different clothes, dyed my hair black, and I even started going by my middle name to seem "cooler" to him. I..." Sansa shuddered. "I gave him special favors in the hopes, he just so he'd finally see me. One day, he texted me to meet up with him at his house and I went over thinking that he was going to ask me to be his girlfriend. I got there and the door was wide open. I thought it was a bit strange and I went in, worried if Waymar was okay when I heard noises coming from his bedroom. I opened the door and caught him having sex with my former best friend Myranda. I closed the door and ran down the stairs. Waymar and Myranda came down right before I left. Waymar forgot he texted me and tried to apologize while Myranda just smirked at me. I asked her 'How could you?' and she said 'You're the biggest fool to ever think you had a shot with Waymar and I only became friends with you to get to him along with your money. Who would anyone ever want to date someone like you? You're a stupid and ugly little girl. Oh, you're crying now. How sad? No one's ever had the guts to tell you that? You're sasquatch with no curves or boobs."

Sansa looked down at the crown, while hot tears streamed down her face. Mya gathered her in her arms as Sansa sobbed.

"You know what Myranda said about you isn't true right? You're beautiful on the inside and out. Hell, I wish I was as tall and skinny as you." Mya whispered while Sansa shook her head.

"Mya, you're beautiful."

"So are you! Being tall sounds great, I don't like always having to crane my neck to look at Harry when we're bantering. The pool is probably one of the few kisses where he won't have to practically bend down to kiss me. Don't get me started on being curvy and having to find jeans that don't feel like they're not suffocating my thighs and butt while having a huge awkward gap in the back." Mya ranted. "Don't be hard on yourself, Sansa. You're amazing, you need to believe that. The girls love you, I love you, your other friends and family love you, and everyone at camp does. You need to love yourself."

"Thank you, Mya. You're right, I do need to work on loving myself." Sansa smiled.

"That's the spirit!" Mya high fived her and then they heard the door open from Mya's room to see Beth's face full of tears.

"What's wrong Beth? Did you have a nightmare?" Mya asked, her voice full of concern.

"No, I..." Beth's lip wobbled. "Miss Mya, I woke up and I realized I don't have any more underwear for the rest of the week."

"How many did you bring Beth?" Sansa asked as Beth sat down in between her and Mya.

"My brother packed me six."

Only six for Sunday through Friday? I'd pack at least twelve or fourteen... Wait! It's only Tuesday?!

"But it's only Tuesday Beth, how did you go through six?" Mya's eyes widened.

"I... I peed myself a bit on Sunday when I was waiting for the bathroom after I took my shower, so I had to change. Monday, I got my unicorn undies wet from the shower after I dropped them. I asked Lyanna to get some out of my bag. Today, after I fell in the water I got scared I was going to get leeches so I changed into my last pair. I just keep getting bad luck!" Beth started to tear up and an idea popped up in Sansa's mind.

"Beth, are all your dirty clothes in a bag?" Sansa asked.

Beth nodded and Sansa sighed in relief.

"Okay, I'm going to wash all of your dirty clothes in the washer and you'll have your five pairs clean again."

"Won't people judge me for re-wearing the same undies again?"

"No, it's none of their business and besides sometimes I wear the same undies when I don't take a shower for a day if I didn't sweat." Sansa shrugged.

"Same." Mya agreed and Beth looked at the both of them in amazement.

"Thank you so much, Miss Sansa and Miss Mya!" Beth hugged them both and went back into Mya's room.

"What. A. Night," Mya exclaimed and Sansa couldn't help but agree.

"Drinking coffee right before lunch?" Jon asked as Sansa filled her coffee mug.

"Yep. I'm exhausted, I had to wash one of my girls' clothes because she didn't pack enough underwear. She was upset and it broke my heart. Yesterday just wasn't her day."

"Beth right? She's a sweetheart." Jon smiled before he took a sip of his tea.

"She definitely is." Sansa nodded in agreement.

"Is she your favorite this week?"

"We as counselors aren't supposed to have favorites." Sansa attempted to be stern as Jon rose an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes. Sansa began laughing so hard that her nose snorted and coffee spilled down her nose.

She grabbed a napkin and dabbed at her nose, refusing to make eye contact with him.

Seven hells, why must I embarrass myself in front of hot guys??? Why can't my laugh be sweet and adorable???

"I like your laugh, it's cute. You should do it more often." Jon's deep voice broke into her reverie and she lifted her eyes to see a small grin on his face.

"You should make more dramatic faces and jokes then," Sansa smiled back and Jon laughed a little.

"Noted." Jon nodded and then his eyebrows knitted together. "I just realized you didn't go to last night's late-night."

"Nope, besides doing Beth's laundry, I took a hot shower and talked to Mya out in the hall for a bit."

"Oh, Mya? Harry had heart eyes when he came back to the cabin last night. About damn time something happened."

"Mr. Jon? Did you just curse on campgrounds?" Sansa dramatically exclaimed and Jon chuckled as he shook his head.

"I sure did, Miss Sansa. Am I going to lose points now?"

[shannygoatgruff]

Stay Safe, Stay Home Writing Challenge - (Call me if you need anything) @waiting4inspiration​

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Modern Ivar x OC

Warning: Language, strong sexual content

Rating: M

A/N:  First my apologies for taking so long to post this chapter. I lost the original version of chapter 7, but I hope you enjoy this slightly longer re-write.  I think this story only has 1 or 2 more chapters and it’s done.  I’m almost through telling the story I wanted to tell.

Next, I got the idea for this from experience I had with an ex, with whom I am still very close friends. We were actually talking about this particular encounter recently, and I thought it would be fun to write it. I will say, if you have never had sex with someone that you are truly friends with, you have no idea what you’re missing out on!  I think the sexiest sex is the kind where you talk to your partner.  Maybe it’s just the stage I’m in my life.  What you’re doing doesn’t interest me as much as what’s going on in your head.

Finally, I used the lyrics to ‘Imported’ by Jessie Reyes without permission.  I love her and that song and when I hear it, I see Ivar and Cash.  I have included the video at the end of the chapter - the vibe of the song is how I see them as a couple.

Enjoy!

Chapter 6 

Chapter 7

When Ivar moved across the floor, there was grace in his movements. His motions were fluid, and because he didn’t use his legs to aid him, how he curved his spine to usher his mobility gave him the agility of a big cat stalking his prey. One-shoulder worked in tandem with the hip on the opposite side of his body creating this... glide, that was simply fucking sexy.  Cash found herself wondering how good the view of him crawling would look from underneath him.      

Crawling for Cash, however, was anything but graceful. She hadn’t gotten very far, just from the dresser to the full-length mirror, but fuck a duck if it wasn’t hard. At first, she tried to be all sexy, and crawl on her hands and knees, but when she realized Ivar couldn’t use his knees, she switched to an Army crawl.  

After the first pass across the floor, she knew this crawling idea was going to be short-lived.  Not only did she not possess the upper body strength to keep it up, but she was also getting hella ashy.  It was bad enough the rain had washed away most of her lotion, but now she was sliding around on the carpet. She was going to look like she had been rolling around in flour at any minute. Her mother would have a fucking fit if she saw the state she was in.

And how the hell was she supposed to get her toiletry tote across the room? It wasn’t like it was a backpack. It was hard enough trying to maneuver herself around, let alone bring something with her.  She had tried dragging it and even pushing it in front of her.  Both ways were taking forever.  At the rate she was going, she and the tote would get to the mirror by her 30th birthday.  

Ivar leaned against the bed watching with curiosity.  He had never seen an able-bodied person struggle so hard to crawl. Why didn’t she just get up on all fours? He appreciated that view of her.  It was much more seductive then whatever the hell she was doing now.  Currently, she looked like she was trying to do the worm in a breakdance competition for quadriplegics.  

“It may be easier if you use your arms.  You have all of your weight on your elbows.  Try using your wrists and hands. That way, you can move your bag with you.” Ivar laid on his stomach facing Cash and demonstrated, “See?  Like this…” 

“See, like this,” Cash mocked in a high pitched voice rolling her eyes as she continued to struggle across the floor.  Suddenly, she felt the sting of his hand as it landed flat on her ass. It sounded much worse than it felt.  It didn’t hurt in the least, but she still gave him the evil eye, “Did you just?” she feigned shock.  

Being the youngest child, Ivar got away with a lot of shit.  He was used to blaming one of his brothers for everything and he always got away with it. It became a little game he liked to play with them that he lovingly titled, ‘How much trouble can I get you in?’  It was during that time that he started doing this mocking, side to side head motion to symbolize his victory.  As an adult, during a triumph, he continued to rock his head in this obnoxious manner, only now, it also included a shit-eating grin, followed by a dab.  

Cash watched the most incredibly mischievous smile spread across Ivar’s face as he bobbed his head and then he dabbed the air.  He spoke some foreign words and seemed mighty pleased with himself. “Oh, chuckle it up, Chuckles.” She rolled her eyes and sat up.  “Ya, perv.”

God, he had been wanting to do that ever since she started crawling. He just wanted to see if her ass was really as soft as it looked.  It was, and it had the right amount of bounce.  “Sorry. I could not resist,” his smile was so big, it was hard to make out what he was saying, “You were making fun of me. It was all I could think to do,” he whined.

Cash turned toward the mirror and started to dump out the contents of her bag. She picked up her wide-tooth comb and folded her legs beneath her. Leaning into the mirror, she fixed her eyes squarely on his image, “If you wanted to cop a feel, all you had to do was ask.”  She watched as his mouth opened and closed, like a fish. 

“What are you going to do?”  He asked, folding his hands in his lap. 

Cash parted her hair down the middle and secured half of it with a ponytail holder. Carefully detangling the other half with a comb, she reached in the bag for a jar and struggled with the top, “I’m going to put my hair in two braids, so I won’t look totally crazy.”  She held the jar out to Ivar.  “Can you open this for me?”

Silently, he crawled to where she sat and took the jar out of her hands.  With one turn he had the lid opened.  “This smells wonderful. What is it?”  

“A moisturizing mask.”

“It smells like coconuts and berries, and…and,” he took another big sniff but couldn’t quite place the scent, “I don’t know but it is amazing.  It smells soft. Like you.”

“Jasmine,” she took the jar from his hand and tried not to blush.  He thought she smelled soft?  “I made this.”

“You make this?”

“It’s not hard,” she shrugged, “All you need are some essential oils for the smell and different kinds of butters.  It’s pretty easy.  It’s good to keep moisture in.  I could even use it on your hair and it wouldn’t be greasy.  See feel.” She titled her hair for Ivar to feel her hair without the moisturizer. “Now you know I must like you because I’m letting you touch my hair.”  Then, she scooped a small amount of product onto her palm before rubbing it into her hair. After she had worked it though she tilted her head toward him again.  “Now feel.”

His eyes grew with amazement.  “That feels awesome.”  Of course, he couldn’t help but bring his nose to her hair.  “And it smells good.” His nose brushed the side of her ear before making its way to her neck, then back into her hair.  “I like this smell.”

Cash giggled at the feeling, but she couldn’t ignore the tiny goosebumps that started to prickle every inch of her skin.  “Do you know how to braid?”  She asked feeling her neck slowly start to lean more into the warmth of this breath. 

“Hmm?” He looked at her eyes in the mirror and noticed that he had been rubbing her arm.  When did that happen?  What the hell was in that jar? “Braid?  A little. I used to help my mother when I was young. She has very long hair.” He watched as a smooth smile crossed Cash’s face.  “Oh, no.  I cannot. I am terrible at it.”  

“Oh, you know nothing, Jon Snow,” she handed him a brush, “you do mine, and  I’ll do yours.”

“And we can have a sleeping party, like girlfriends,” he mocked in a high pitched girl voice and twirled his hair around his finger, “...and paint each other’s nails and do make-overs!”

“That’s a slumber party, jerk. And as long as there are no pillow fights, I’d be okay with it.”  She nudged his shoulder with her own. “But, I hope you don’t want to be my girlfriend.”

Ivar took the comb from Cash and looked at the floor.  He didn’t want to chance to catch her eyes in the mirror, just in case, “I was really kind of hoping that you would want to be mine.”  

“Really?”  Cash asked said softly before capturing his lips for a soft kiss.  “Good. It’s about time.  I was getting gray hair over here, waiting on you to make a move...”  Smiling into his lips, she wondered, how did her tongue always end up in his mouth?  Was she capable of kissing him without needing to feel his velvety tongue on hers?  She pulled away slightly and pecked him a few more times. “Now, I can’t be all kissing and everything with my hair looking like this.  I’m too cute to be looking this tore up. So you helping or nah?”  

Braiding each other’s hair had been the most intimate thing Cash had ever done with a man, besides Glenn, with her clothes on.  Why was it so easy to trust him?  She let him touch her hair – generally speaking, black women don’t let people other their mothers or their hairdresser touch their hair. Hell, Cash’s parents had been married for over 30 years and she seriously doubted that her father had ever touched her mother’s hair. She had known this man for almost 48 hours and she had already let him see her with ashy legs.  What the fuck was really going on?  

It was something more than just being comfortable around him being bushy and ashy, that’s for sure.  Maybe it was the fact that the things that she normally would be embarrassed about she didn’t give a fuck about anymore. She was pretty sure that if she needed to fart in front of him, she would have,  That’s how secure she felt with him.  

Ivar was amazed that he stopped focusing on his the fact that his bare legs were showing and that he was crawling, hours ago. Whatever it was that he was nervous about before he had met Cash in person seemed like a distant memory.  He had just let this woman braid his hair like he was a girl playing beauty shop. 

Granted, the hairstyle looked badass, especially with the way his head was shaved on the sides – but he knew for sure none of his brothers would have let their girlfriends do that.  Hvitserk would talk shit to him about it for years to come because of it, too.  But, he didn’t care, it felt right.  Everything about her delicate fingers gripping his hair and gently massaging his scalp felt incredible. If she wanted to take every braid out and start all over, he would let her.  He would let her do whatever she wanted if it would make her smile.

Speaking of smiling, as he flipped through his phone for more music for them to listen to, his face lit up when he ran across their song. “You feel like singing?” As soon as the opening beat of Imported by Jessie Reyes ft. 6lack started playing, Cash let her head lean back and smiled.  

Ivar grabbed a brush, and handed her one, too.  If they were going to do this duet any justice, they both needed their microphones and to get into character. Mother nature was already setting the scene outside with the rain still beating down against the patio, creating the perfect backdrop for their music video. 

Bringing the hairbrush up to his mouth, he wanted Cash to see how he had choreographed his movements to the song.  He only wished that he had his braces on because he had an entire dance to go with it.  

Hi, my name is 6Lack And sometimes people me SIX-LACK I don’t mind because they stubborn And my bank account is looking mighty fine We can skip the wine and dine Go straight for the wind and grind She wanna cum, I can make it happen, fuck trying

Ivar rolled his hips from his sitting position on the floor with a devilish look on his face that made Cash lick her lips.  Damn, that boy could sing. Plus, he was sexy and gyrating…fuck! She was trying so hard to be good, but the song was talking about going straight for the wind and grind making people cum and sexy stuff and whatnot…she was only human.

Sometimes, I get messy, you can be my biggest secret I ain’t sliding if you wit him Baby, you gon’ have to have to leave him

Ivar wagged his finger at Cash to let her know that he wasn’t the cheating type. He winked at her when she smiled. 

I got morals on Sundays, sometimes on Wednesdays

He shrugged his shoulder and raised a brow.

Really, it depends but,

Ivar tried his best not to laugh at the face she was making at his stage-worthy performance. He was giving her his best big dick energy vibes. 

You, you’re in love with somebody else Maybe I could offer some help (Maybe I could offer some help) Get over them by getting under me

He watched as Cash closed her eyes and began to sing.  He could listen to her sing all day.  She had a beautiful voice and he loved the changes she made to songs. He especially loved what she did to Jessie Reyes’s part of this song.  

But you might O.D. if you get too much of me Might O.D. if you get too much of me

Cash, too, had a routine for this song, but she was not going to do it for him. Instead, she just did what felt natural at the moment.  She ran her hand down her throat to her collarbone then pulled her legs up to her chest. As she sang, she rubbed her cheek against her knee and gave him a vulnerable stare…

Hi, my name is not important I’m not from here, I’m imported I drink liquor like it’s water Hope my liver can afford it I’ve been lyin’ here with I’ve been lyin…, I’ll be lyin here I’m under the covers like

Her voice…that was the same voice he had listened to countless times over the phone, that was singing to him in person.  It was a little overwhelming.  He reached up and cupped her cheek, and when she opened her eyes he leaned in to kiss her. The kiss so slow and deep and it conveyed every thought and feeling that Ivar couldn’t put into words. 

He had so much he wanted to tell her, too.  Like how he was glad she replied to his comment that day on the Jessie Reyes blog for this song.  He had been listening to Imported on repeat because he was still in love with Freydis.  Even though they had been broken up for a couple of years and he didn’t want her back, he couldn’t get over her.  He was stuck mourning for what they could have been. He had so many hopes and dreams for them.  He thought he had found a beautiful woman that could love him despite his disabilities and he would have a chance at a normal life.  But, it didn’t work that way. Nothing in his life ever worked out that way.

Enter this song and this girl: the song was about finding someone to help you get over a broken heart and the girl...she was feeling a certain way because her first serious boyfriend, who she hadn’t been for over five years, was getting married.  Feelings had a funny way of fucking you up.  

But there they were; keyboard gangsters, in their feelings and being flirty.  They were two people on different continents who were never going to meet, so what harm was it to bare their souls?  Nobody ever died from having another friend; especially friends that liked to sing loved musicals and could go into a monologue from a movie with just the last word of a sentence. Really, friends like that were hard to come by.  

Now, if things kept going in the right direction, soon they would be lovers.  

Thank you, Jessie Reyes.

Cash bit Ivar’s neck, causing him to groan and squeeze her body tighter. Good thing the rain hadn’t washed off the scent of Aqua di Gio that seemed to be oozing from his pores.  Damn! How did he know exactly what scents got her going?  Did this man always smell like walking sex?  And was it natural for a man to have skin this damn soft?  

She watched her fingers as they trailed the lines of his tattoo along his left shoulder.  “What’s this?”  She asked as her fingertips came dangerously close to his nipple, before tracing the line back up the head of the figure to the center of his chest.

Ivar watched her nail slowly move across his skin and tucked his lip in between his teeth at the feeling.  “The mythical Norse dragon, Fáfnir.” Did his voice just crack?  She made him feel like a teenager all over again.  

Cash giggled.  She loved the way he suddenly started rolling his “r” and how his “th” started to sound like a z.  Had it always and she just not notice?  “Your accent is stronger,” she let her tongue follow along the line of his jaw, “it’s so sexy.”  

“It’s hard to concentrate on English,” he said matter-of-factly, making sure to slur his Norwegian tongue into his English words,  hands still gripping her waist, gently rocking with her on his lap, “when you do that.”  He pointed his chin toward the ceiling to grant her better access to his Adam’s apple, “You know, I don’t think I have ever been in this situation and had to speak English.”

Cash's eyes opened in bewilderment as she lifted her head. “You know what? I’ve never seen an uncircumcised penis.”  The thought just hit her.  If they were about to go there and she hoped to God they were, they needed to get all of this shit out of the way.  She sat back on his thighs and looped her arms around his neck.  

Ivar’s smile was so big, his eyes crinkled in the corners.  “Now?  You think of that now?  Really?” 

“I’m serious.”  She said settling back with a slight pout, “Circumcision is a big thing in the US, like everybody does it.  But here, not so much, right?  I mean, you’re not Jewish, are you?”  She raised her brow and nudged her head toward him.  “You know what I mean?”

He shook his head.  “You want to know if I am?”

“Kinda?”  Talk about killing the mood.  There were things that she might want to try with him, but she wanted to know what she might be in for first. Nobody liked those kinds of surprises during sex.  “ Is that weird?”  There were just certain things you need to be upfront about. Even though she suspected she wasn’t certain. 

Ivar shrugged with a glint of mischief in his eyes.  “Perhaps you will just have to find out.”  

“Oh, just tell me.”  She slapped his bare chest and rolled her eyes when he made a face like it hurt. “I’ll tell you something.”  

“I’m not telling you that.  But, I will tell you, that I have never seen brown nipples.”  He ran his fingers between Cash’s bra straps and her shoulders, slowly lowering the straps down her arm. When she didn’t protest, he continued to pull the straps lower.  He looked her in the eyes while she bent her arms through the loops to free herself of them. 

Sucking his lip, he let his eyes trail from hers down to her lips, then lower to her neck.  He admired how her pulse quickened when his hands touched just above her cleavage and when his thumbs gently pushed the lace down to expose her to him, he wanted to lick the hollow of her throat.  “You are beautiful.”  

Brown, white, black or pink, skin was skin, and Cash’s was beautiful and the skin on her breasts was just as soft and warm as the rest of her.  He patiently waited while she unhooked her bra and discarded it away from them, before he wrapped his muscular arms around her, burying his face in between her breasts. “I love boobs.” 

“Really?” She said smiling, as he looked up at her from the middle of her chest. “You didn’t strike me a breast man.” 

“I am an everything man.”  He smiled rubbing his face across her soft skin.  “What is that smell?  God…”  

“Ahh…that is Heliotrope Gingembre,  my favorite perfume.”

“Mine now, too,” he said absently.  Closing his eyes with his head laid on her chest.

She kissed him on the top of his head and started to rub the back of his neck, “You think I don’t know that you’re avoiding my question?  I shared.”

“I did not ask you a question and you did not tell me anything.”  He looked up at her and started to bob his head with that shit-eating grin again.  

“I will pop that little bobblehead of yours off your shoulders.  Now you’re just cheating.”  She rolled off his lap and laughed when he pouted at her and started to reach for her like a child.  “Not until you answer me.”  She sat next to him, but faced him and absently rubbed her hand along the hair on his legs.

He watched in amazement as she did.  She didn’t seem the least bit weirded out by his scars. “Okay, I’m sorry. You want to know if I was cut as a baby?” Ivar laid back on the floor and laced his hand with hers.  He looked at their joined hands and held them up to his line of vision before rolling his wrist. Why prolong the inevitable?  She was going to find out sooner or later.  He figured, if she could see his legs and be perfectly with fine them, odds were she'd okay with an unsnipped prick.  “No,  I was not.”  He laid her hand on his stomach with the laziest hint of a smirk on his face.

“Hmm. Interesting,” she responded wiggling her toes.  She chewed the inside of her lip for a moment then shrugged her shoulders.  “Okay,” she got up on her knees and knelt beside him.  Cash let her hands trail down his muscular stomach and found herself smile when she realized that he was ticklish in the spot between his navel and his waist. 

Carefully, her deft fingers slid under the grey waistband of his boxer briefs before she smoothed her hands around to his hips.  Slowly, she lowered the shorts down his legs, never once taking her eyes off of his.  Since Ivar couldn’t hoist his backside off the floor, he aided her by rocking from side to side as she continued to pull the garment down lower and lower. 

And there he was.  Ivar Ragnarsson in all of his birthday glory.  He was a sexy man.  It was the moment of truth and Cash didn’t quite know what to do or say. Was she supposed to comment or compliment?  Was she supposed to touch him or ask questions? There was so much she wanted to do, but she wasn’t sure if any of it was okay.  

“So?” Ivar placed one hand behind his head and the other on his chest.  “No witty observations?”

“Well, you already know you’re sexy, AF.”  She tilted her head and let her fingers trace the dark line of hair that traveled from his navel to the soft tufts at his groin. “But this…it’s different.”

“Different?  What the hell does that mean?” Ivar laughed.  “It looks the same to me.” 

Her eyes got big and she nodded, “Well, you’ve seen it before.  I haven’t…” She touched it.  It felt the same as others she’d held in her hands.  It was thick, had a nice length, and just the right amount of curve to it.  The bounce back, when she pulled it toward her and let it go, so that it slapped back against his pelvis, made a good sound.  By all accounts, it was a normal cock.  It was hard, and hot in her hands and she even noticed how Ivar’s stomach clenched when she made contact with it.  “So does it feel different?”

“Different than what?” He asked with a labored breath as she continued to hold and turn him over in her hand.  “It feels the same to me.”  Did she know what she was doing to him? She wasn’t jerking him or doing anything sexual, not really, merely touching and having a conversation with him.  It was such a turn on.  

“Let me show you.”  He removed his hand from behind his head and placed it on himself. Lifting his head, he attempted some sort of origami thing with the skin.  “This, I think, is what you are used to seeing.”  He rolled his eyes in his head and sucked his teeth, “Whatever.”  He released the skin and smiled.  “My way is much better.  Much more sensation.” 

“Oh, really?”  She was intrigued.  If she were being honest, it wasn’t the cutest one she’d ever seen.  But, that was because she just wasn’t used to it, yet. She was sure in a few days, she would think it was the hottest one she’d ever seen! “How so?”

“This part in there…feels everything, sometimes too much.”  He picked up her hand and placed it back on his swollen member, before closing his eyes at the feeling, “Sometimes, you have to touch it through the skin…”

“Like a clit?” 

Ivar shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know.  I do not have one of those.”  He let his hand travel up Cash’s thigh and settle right below her hip.  “If direct pressure is applied to you, does it make you,” he wound his hands to try to drive the words forward, “finish faster?”

Now it was Cash’s turn to shrug, “Honestly?  I’ve never had an orgasm with another person.”

“What?”  Ivar sat up, instantly regretting the warmth of her hand leaving his body.  “Are you serious?”  This was great!  Neither had he. But wait…if neither of them had, then this could be the worst awkward first sexual experience in the history of awkward first sexual experiences. They would either be eternally frustrated or their first sexual encounter could literally last indefinitely.  

“Yup. Not ever.”  Cash sat up on her knees so that he had full access to her hips. She placed her hands on his and watched as he slowly started to pull down her panties.  “I think the guys that I’ve been with think all women like the same things.  They don’t want to hear that you might want something different, or they just are in it for themselves. I just usually finish myself off.”

Ivar smoothed the lace down her thighs and held still as she used his shoulders to brace herself against him so she could lift each knee up to allow him to slide the material under her legs. 

He didn’t want to seem like a total pervert but he couldn’t help but look at her. She was right next to him with the most neatly trimmed Mohawk he’d ever seen.  “You’re into landscaping?”  He didn’t reply when she nodded.  Instead, he pressed his lips to her stomach.  “So, when you finish yourself off, do you do it alone or in front of others?”

“Like do I perform?”  She gently caressed his head, “It depends on how deserving the audience is.”  

God, he wanted her.  But, he needed to get one more thing out in the open before that could happen.  He wanted total transparency between them, once and for all.  “Me either.” 

He felt his head being lifted from her warm skin and but he immediately dropped his eyes in embarrassment, “I have never had an orgasm during sex.  The doctor thinks it was stress.”   

“That is so sad,” she wanted to hug him, but she didn’t want to make him feel bad.   She was used to it.  There were millions of women who never had and probably never will have an orgasm – so was the plight of being a woman. But for Ivar to never experience it?  He was too sweet a guy.  It nearly broke her heart. “Do you at least get anything out of it?”

“Yeah. I like giving pleasure to someone else.” He tried to sound upbeat, but it wasn’t exactly a happy subject for him.  What he was saying was true, he used to thoroughly enjoy making Freydis feel good. But, what about him? Didn’t he deserve to feel that way? Shouldn’t he get to experience an orgasmic high, at least once in his life?  At least one time that wasn’t self-inflicted? “ And it does feel good.”

“Do you finish yourself off?”

“Never in front of anyone.”  A devilish smile crept across Ivar’s face and when Cash saw that mischievous twinkle in those beautiful blue eyes, her face broke out in a smile, too.  

Ivar had had many sexual conversations with women before but never before had he had a sex conversation with his partner.  This whole thing, this talking and being together, looking at, touching, and getting to know about each other…all of this intimacy was amazing.  

It was scary as hell for both of them, but damn it all if it didn’t feel natural.  Even if their first time together wouldn’t be perfect, or they would have figure out who couldn’t do what because of physical limitations or just plain dislike, it would all pay off in the end.  Neither of them had a point to try to prove to the other or to themselves.  All they needed to do was enjoy each other.  Who cared if neither had an orgasm?  For the first time, they both were feeling something they hadn’t felt in a very long time.  They felt at home, and safe with each other.   

Cash closed the space between them and pressed her lips to his, “Bed or floor.” She laughed when he laid back and put both hands behind his head.  “Oh yea, carpet burns and group masturbation...I knew you were freaky.” 

Tags: @oddsnendsfanfics​  @a-mess-of-fandoms​​ @waiting4inspiration @simsadventures​ @chipster-21​  @tgrrose​  @alicedopey​   @thelastemzy​​  @naaladareia​ @alexa4040​ @absolutelynotanidiot​ @pokeasleepingsmaug​ @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme​ @skadithegoddess​  @dina-m16​  @tiyetiye​ @synnersaint​ @lostinthoughtsandfeelings@moonlightsspirit​ @geekandbooknerd​​ @dreamlesswonder86​ @inforapound @youbloodymadgenius​ @cruelfvckingsummer​ @mummybear @flowers-in-your-hayr​ @honestsycrets @thatendymion @jzr201

[6rookie-writer0110]

Wolves will take me home

AU Daenerys Targaryen x Female Reader

Request- Dany is an experienced agent who was hired to stop R. R's organization distracts the FBI by attacking President Cersei's huge weapon base and while that's happening R and Jon sets a power down bomb in the WH and FBI building and as Dany is getting information that's when the bombs goes off and the doors are blown off and in walks R and Jon with an army of guys downloading everything off the system including access to project. Dany shoots at R only for R to catch the bullet with her hand

Jon Snow, your friend is in the car next to Agent Daenerys Targaryen, she will be undercover to meet you. He told her everything how to win your trust and she knows what to do.

”You really look different with brown hair,” Jon said.

”She can't know the real me and my color hair” Dany said.

You don't know yet that Jon has been working with the FBI, for a while now.

”Good point,” Jon said.

He takes you to the hideout and Jon introduced you to Dany. You believe the lies he is telling you because, in your mind, he has no reason to betray you.

”How can you help us taken down Cersei?” You asked.

”I can defend myself and I know a little bit about hacking,” Dany said.

Growing up your parents were activists. They taught you everything that they know and how the government can easily hide their crimes. Your father was a sergeant in the army but now he is on the FBI wanted list, for leaking top-secret information to the public. Since then he has disappeared but you know his location.

Your mother helped your father to leak the secrets of the government. She would lead the protests and she is on the FBI wanted list also.

”Okay. Jon let's tell her the plan” You said.

”Let’s start,” Jon said.

You and Jon explain every detail of the plan. You created an organization to take down Cersei. They will take care of the hacking and distracting the bodyguards while you go after Cersei.

But first Jon will need to set the bomb at the FBI headquarters than in the White House.

----

You are alone working on creating the devices to activate the bombs. Dany walked in and she watches you work hard.

”I thought you might be hungry,” Dany said.

She got you a sandwich and a drink. You put the tools and take off the gloves and goggles.

”Thank you,” You said.

”What are you doing?” Dany asked.

She sits next to you.

”The remotes to active the bombs. Why do you want to bring down Cersei?” You said.

”She is the reason why my father is dead. I do want to watch her world burn down” Dany lied.

”It will happen and we will watch her world burn down. I got the blueprints and soon I will have to start making the bombs” You said.

You start to eat the sandwich and you start to tell her why you became like your parents. She is starting to develop a crush on you. She understands why you want to change the world but how you are doing it, is the reason you are on the FBI watch list.

You worked hard making the bombs and the devices to activate the bombs. You and Dany fell asleep on the couch together. You have your head on her chest and she has her arm around you.

✧ ✯ ✧ ✫

The more you work alongside with Dany, her crush on you has gotten stronger. Dany and Jon do report everything to their boss. Jon and Dany met up secretly

”We have to get those plans. I know Y/N always has something else up her sleeve” Jon said.

”Y/N has more on her laptop. She didn't notice that I saw her type in the password. I will keep her distracted while you hack into her laptop” Dany said.

”I will try to do it quick. Go, distract her” Jon said.

Dany nods. You have someone else working at the White House, you gave them the bombs to set up.

Jon opened your laptop and he starts to work. You arrived and Dany is waiting for you. You didn't tell them what you did by adding more bombs to the plan.

”Y/N, I thought we can get something to eat. Since we have been working hard” Dany said.

”Just let me get my laptop” You said.

Dany would get a text from Jon to let her know he did it. But he needs more time, on your laptop, you have zipper folders and images with secret codes in it. It looks like a normal picture but looks deeper then you see the codes and blueprints.

Dany grabbed your hand.

”What?” You asked.

Dany starts to think fast and you wait for her answer. She put her hands on your cheeks and kissed you. You start to kiss her back and she pulls you closer. Jon finished and sent Dany the text.

----

Since that kiss, you and Dany got closer. You and Dany kinda talked about the kiss, but she has kissed you again. She got to know you on a personal level.

”Y/N, let's forget about the plan. You don't have to do this” Dany said.

Her boss has enough evidence to put you behind bars for life. Dany tries to change your mind but you won't change your mind.

”No. I got this far and I won't back down” You said.

Dany sighed and looks away. Dany starts to play with your fingers.

”If you can be anywhere right now, where it will be?” Dany said.

”I want to be live where it can be cold and hot. Somewhere it will snow” You said.

”Have you played in the snow before?” Dany asked.

”No. I want that experience, hopefully,” You said.

She kissed you and her lipstick is on your lips.

✧ ✯ ✧ ✫

Today is the day to stop Cersei, you are ready to stop her. Dany again tried to stop you and change your mind, but you are too stubborn to change your mind. You sneaked in the back of the white house. You see Jon and followed him, but he didn't notice you. He went into the room and sent a signal to your boss. You pressed the gun to his head.

”Tell me, I didn't see you send a code to your boss,” You said.

”I’m sorry, Y/N. I'm an FBI agent also Dany” Jon said.

”I trusted you!” You yelled.

”I’m sorry Y/N but I was doing my job-”

You hit him in the head with the gun and he passed out. You are seeing red, you never felt so angry ever in your life until now. You left and you are breathing hard

---

The FBI starts to disable the bombs but they don't know about the secret bombs. You are in the office and you are glaring at Cersei.

”Do you really think it would be this easy?” Cersei smirked.

You aim your gun at her.

”I don't care if it's easy or not. But I'm still taking you down” You said.

Cersei isn't scared and she glared at you. Then Dany aimed her gun at your head

”Put the gun down, Y/N,” Dany said.

You don't put your gun down.

”I hired, Jon and Dany to spy on you. They told me about your plans and the bombs. Y/N you are pathetic thinking that you won this war” Cersei said.

Dany doesn't want to kill you. But she knocked the gun out of your hand. Now you and Dany start to fight, Cersei is enjoying the show.

”You used me!” You yelled at her.

”I’m sorry, it wasn't supposed to be like that” Dany said.

You tried to grab the gun but she kicked your stomach. Then she kicked the gun away from you and you struggled to get up.

”I fell in love with you,” You said.

Dany didn't know what to say. But she pulled the trigger to distract Cersei so you can escape but you grabbed the bullet with your hand.

”I always have a plan B,” You said.

You take your phone and trigger the bombs. The place starts to collapse and Dany had to get Cersei out. The swat team arrived but you managed to run and escape before they caught you.

✧ ✯ ✧ ✫

{Time Skip}

You went underground and no one saw you since. You moved to a new country and lived a simple life and got a dog named Rhaegal. But behind closed doors, you have files in USB, in it are secrets from every government around the world. It wasn't easy to get it, but you made new friends and they owe you favors.

When you found out that Dany and Jon, we're FBI agents it broke you. You fell madly in love with Dany. But you felt hurt and betrayed, you tried to forget about her.

Once you told Dany where you would go to escape the law and not be caught. Dany went to look for you but you weren't there. She never stopped loving you and she wants to find you. Jon is helping her to find you and she is using her skills to find you. She is in Ireland and she spoke to someone you used to know but he didn't tell Dany anything. Now she is drinking scotch in her hotel room. Jon called Dany

”I got good news,” Jon said.

”I know where Y/N is,” Jon said.

”Where!?” Dany said quickly.

”I’m going send you the file,” Jon said.

”Good,” Dany said.

He ended the call and one minute later she got the files. She starts to read it over and over then she smiled.

---

Dany drove to the house where you live. She stands at the door, she can hear the door braking. She knocked on the door and the barking doesn't stop. You open the door and your eyes opened wide and your heart starts to race.

”Y/N,” Dany said.

You closed the door.

”I’m not going to arrest you, Y/N. I swear. If I was there would have been a swat team knocking down your door. Y/N, I have been looking for you a while now. I'm still in love with you and I was hoping you would love me back” Dany said.

You don't say anything but you did hear what she said. You opened the door and Rhaegal runs to her and starts to lick her hand.

”Usually, he would growl at strangers. But he likes you” You said.

”He is cute. What is his name?” Dany said.

”His name is Rhaegal. So, that's how you look without brown hair,” You said.

She starts to pet him and he wags his tail.

”Yes. This is my real color hair” Dany said.

You invite her to your house and Rhaegal can’t enough of her.

---

”Y/N do you still have feelings for me?” Dany asked.

You sighed and you start to pet Rhaegal.

”I asked myself those questions for a while now. I thought I knew what I would say when I see you but my mind went blank” You said.

”I know I lied. But everything that I told you is true, I wish it was like the movies with easy answers. I have been looking for you and Jon has been helping me” Dany said.

”I know, you have been looking for me,” You said.

”But how?” Dany asked.

”They told me after you threatened them. Now, I owe them favors telling them not to kill you” You said.

She gave you a small smile. You moved closer and kissed her, she put her hand on your cheek and kissed you back.

---

Dany is staying the night, you two have a nice dinner together. She does want to prove that she won't hurt you again but will take time. You and Dany lie in bed together, staring at each other and you put her hair behind her right ear.

”Can we stay like this forever?” Dany asked.

”You can live here with me and Rhaegal,” You said.

”Y/N, do you want to get married?” Dany said.

You and Dany smile at each other. You gave her a peck on the lips.

”That was yes,” You said.

Dany smiled and kissed you.

[fedonciadale]

Which are your favoyrite book Sansa moments and why?

Hi there!

 "I could keep you safe," he rasped. "They're all afraid of me. No one would hurt you again, or I'd kill them." He yanked her closer, and for a moment she thought he meant to kiss her. He was too strong to fight. She closed her eyes, wanting it to be over, but nothing happened. "Still can't bear to look, can you?" she heard him say. He gave her arm a hard wrench, pulling her around and shoving her down onto the bed. "I'll have that song. Florian and Jonquil, you said." His dagger was out, poised at her throat. "Sing, little bird. Sing for your little life."       

Her throat was dry and tight with fear, and every song she had ever known had fled from her mind. Please don't kill me, she wanted to scream, please don't. She could feel him twisting the point, pushing it into her throat, and she almost closed her eyes again, but then she remembered. It was not the song of Florian and Jonquil, but it was a song. Her voice sounded small and thin and tremulous in her ears.(ACOK, Sansa VII)

I know, this is a traumatic experience for Sansa, and maybe it seems strange that I like it. And I do not like it as in ‘like’ it, but I think that it is a) very well written and b) very well prepared, and it shows many traits of Sansa’s character I like. So, I do not like it for the trauma Sansa has to go through nor do I think that this scene is in any way romantic. If you follow me, you know, that I do not like Sans@n as a ship.

What I like about this, is that it shows that Sansa is very resilient. She is a prisoner in King’s Landing, in the midst of a battle, the Hound threatens her life, and yet she does not do as she is told. Of course, she if frightened, but she manages to hit the one note (pun intended) that touches the very deeply buried humanity of the Hound. It is her innocence, that is a shield for her. It is her very own magic that comes to the fore here. Her female singing magic, her resilience, her innocence is stronger than one of the most brutal man in the series who proclaims himself that he likes killing.

“Gentle mother, font of mercy”, indeed.

In contrast to Sans@n shippers I do not think that this is about the Hound or his possible redemption at all. It is about Sansa’s inner strength and I think it is a preparation for her taming Jon, the ‘Beast’, possibly with the song of Florian and Jonquil, when she meets him at the wall.

Because this scene has been interpreted by Sans@ns in a romantic way, I cannot bear to look at art of this though. It usually makes me shudder, because the romantic interpretation is not my cup of tea.

My other favourite scene, which is definitely romantic is this one:

 When she opened the door to the garden, it was so lovely that she held her breath, unwilling to disturb such perfect beauty. The snow drifted down and down, all in ghostly silence, and lay thick and unbroken on the ground. All color had fled the world outside. It was a place of whites and blacks and greys. White towers and white snow and white statues, black shadows and black trees, the dark grey sky above. A pure world, Sansa thought. I do not belong here. 

       Yet she stepped out all the same. Her boots tore ankle-deep holes into the smooth white surface of the snow, yet made no sound. Sansa drifted past frosted shrubs and thin dark trees, and wondered if she were still dreaming. Drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover's kisses, and melted on her cheeks. At the center of the garden, beside the statue of the weeping woman that lay broken and half-buried on the ground, she turned her face up to the sky and closed her eyes. She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams.    (ASOS, Sansa VII)

This scene and her building the snow castle tugs at my heart every time I read it. It is just wonderful, her longing for her home, her being so determined to rebuild it, the beautiful image of the snowflakes.

I could stare at every depiction of that scene for hours with wet eyes.

Thanks for the ask!

[redbeanboi]

'Fire and Ice’: Parallels Between Jon Snow and Giorno Giovanna (Part 2 of ?)

While I’m taking a quick break from writing—let me get back into this. I’ve been re-reading parts of AGOT, and... I’ve found a lot of material that I want to use for this section.

First post can be found here.

Warnings: Extended Spoilers ahead for JJBA: Vento Aureo and ASoIaF.

I’ve discussed Ambitions and Childhood, but I haven’t talked about Personality.... Most especially the uncanny, bizarre charisma these two possess. 

Giorno and Jon are quiet and keep to themselves. They’re also very very bad at setting good first impressions. 

Before Jon is allowed to take his vows, he has to train in the yard at Castle Black with the other recruits. And... as expected of Lord Stark’s “bastard,” Jon—the teenager who lived in a castle and was trained by knights—is able to beat these fellow recruits (untrained, lowly born kids) singlehandedly and even breaks someone’s wrist because sparring with them is just child’s play to him. 

“They’re not my brothers,” Jon snapped. “They hate me because I’m better than they are.” 

“No. They hate you because you act like you’re better than they are. They look at you and see a castle-bred bastard who thinks he’s a lordling.” The armorer leaned close. “You’re no lordling. Remember that. You’re a Snow, not a Stark. You’re a bastard and a bully.” 

“A bully?” Jon almost choked on the word. The accusation was so unjust it took his breath away. “They were the ones who came after me. Four of them.” 

“Four that you’ve humiliated in the yard. Four who are probably afraid of you. I’ve watched you fight. It’s not training with you. Put a good edge on your sword, and they’d be dead meat; you know it, I know it, they know it. You leave them nothing. You shame them. Does that make you proud?”

— A Game of Thrones, Jon III

Not exactly making a splendid figure for himself as a recruit for the Night’s Watch.

Luckily for him, that scolding from Donal Noye leads Jon to reflect on the error of his ways and ultimately drives Jon to apologize and make friends with his new brothers. In good spirit, Jon offers to help them train and even makes them laugh, and would you look at that—everyone’s warming up to him!

Others were gathering around and looking at him curiously. Jon noticed Grenn a few feet away. A thick woolen bandage was wrapped around one hand. He looked anxious and uncomfortable, not menacing at all. Jon went to him. Grenn edged backward and put up his hands. “Stay away from me now, you bastard.” 

Jon smiled at him. “I’m sorry about your wrist. Robb used the same move on me once, only with a wooden blade. It hurt like seven hells, but yours must be worse. Look, if you want, I can show you how to defend that.” 

Alliser Thorne overheard him. “Lord Snow wants to take my place now.” He sneered. “I’d have an easier time teaching a wolf to juggle than you will training this aurochs.” 

“I’ll take that wager, Ser Alliser,” Jon said. “I’d love to see Ghost juggle.” 

Jon heard Grenn suck in his breath, shocked. Silence fell. 

Then Tyrion Lannister guffawed. Three of the black brothers joined in from a nearby table. The laughter spread up and down the benches, until even the cooks joined in. The birds stirred in the rafters, and finally even Grenn began to chuckle.

—A Game of Thrones, Jon III

Giorno on the other hand is just... He’s quiet and the other guys probably only feel unsettled by his sudden appearance (this is my interpretation of course, I know people just love the idea of an evil and manipulative Giorno) in Chapter 456.

They’re in a dangerous line of work and having some stranger join—and inevitably disrupt the existing dynamics on their team—is not a prospect they welcome wholeheartedly. It’s only because of Bruno’s endorsement that they kind of suck it up. 

But... not before trying to pull a prank on the unsuspecting new guy.

Pictured above: Four people who could not give a flying f*ck about welcoming the new guy.

Pictured above: Same four guys who are proceeding to ignore their new teammate.

Pictured above: Same four guys trying to pull a sneaky one.

Giorno finally catches the drift and sees that he’ll have to put in a little more effort if he wants to be taken seriously around here... 

And for some reason that means drinking the piss-tea. But sure, he “turned his tooth into a jellyfish.” Of course you did, dear Giorno.

Protagonists rising above their peers’ expectations is a trope you see throughout a lot of Shounen manga. Naruto is one that comes to mind, but there’s tons, and you even see it in Phantom Blood with Jonathan. This same device is present in VA with Giorno, who does it again and again. 

And just as Jon manages to impress the recruits (and even some of the sworn brothers), Giorno manages to turn the tables around and impress Bruno’s team. And this is not a solitary event. If anything, these few pages are only the beginning, and you see throughout VA that Giorno continues to earn their trust and admiration. 

This arc also applies to Jon, who goes from very unpopular bully to a leader (and eventually Lord Commander of the entire Watch) as the series progresses. He and Giorno have a knack for winning people over, and it’s precisely why people look to them for leadership. When things take a turn for the worst during the attack on Castle Black, everyone turns to Jon for guidance. Jon won their trust and they’re ready to follow his commands.

Giorno, on the other hand, does not have many solo fights, but his presence and influence are very evident when his teammates are despairing. One arc that comes to mind is the Talking Head arc. Narancia is able to keep moving because of Giorno. Giorno’s stand literally gives life to inanimate objects, and just as Gold Experience gives life force to everyday knickknacks, Giorno is able to inspire and breathe new life into his teammates. Charisma is a central trait to both of these characters and it’s one of their most notable traits—probably one of the traits that distinguishes them as leaders, too. Hm. 👀

—————

A/N: I actually have some stuff about Aragorn that I wanted to add (because Jon Snow is DEFINITELY GRRM’s version of Aragorn and our dear Estel has to also deal with rising above expectations and whatnot in LOTR), but uh.... seeing that this is about Jon and Giorno, I left it out. Let me know if you’re interested in seeing those additions to this meta. 

Edit on 06/23/20 — Changed the title to the meta because I remembered this old post I made.

[madamebaggio]

Notes: Previously...

Next one is the last one ;)

***

Arthur had a problem

He didn’t have any intention of falling in love with Lady Stark. He liked Cat very much, and he’d love for her to be in his life -he just knew that he’d grow to love her as his own very easily -but he couldn’t marry Lady Stark for this reason.

He wouldn’t marry Lady Stark. At all.

And yet…

Was it odd that he’d been charmed by her the day before?

There was something about her eyes when she was talking to him just then, and that dry sense of humor -that he didn’t even know she had -had caught his attention.

He’d always acknowledged that Lady Stark was beautiful because… Well, he could see. He’d heard people describing her as the most beautiful woman in Westeros. He didn’t know that many Westeroi women, but he was willing to believe the claim.

Still, he couldn’t marry her just because she was beautiful and he liked her daughter. He knew at least that much.

But now…

Now he couldn’t help but wonder if he could grow to love her.

No.

No.

He was not getting married like this. Those were all the wrong reasons, he was sure.

***

Lady Stark had allowed Cat to stay for the beginning of the ball. The little girl had been extasic with the opportunity, twirling around in her pretty dress, while Blue chased after her. The older boy kept mumbling about girls being annoying, but he wouldn’t leave the little lady’s side. It was cute.

When it came the time to open the ball with a dance, Arthur took center, thanked his guests for being there, said it was an honor to receive Lady Stark and her family, then cleared his throat. “And to open this night, I’d like to ask Lady Catelyn Stark for the honor of a first dance.” He turned to the little girl and offered his hand.

“You have to dance with mom!” She protested.

“I have the whole night to dance with her. You’re going to bed pretty soon.” He pointed out.

“Oh. Fine.” She conceded gracefully.

Arthur chuckled and grabbed her small hand and took her to the dance floor where other couples were getting in position to dance.

Cat obviously didn’t know all the steps, and halfway through it, Arthur just picked her up on his arms and made her laugh.

When he chanced a look at her mother, Lady Stark was watching them, a fond smile on her face.

Oh no.

***

“Lady Stark.” Arthur turned to her, much later. “Would you care for a dance? I did promise Cat I’d dance with you.” He added once it looked like she might refuse.

It didn’t escape his notice that she hadn’t danced at all.

Lady Stark sighed. “Fine.” She got up. “One dance.”

“You know…” He started conversationally. “The ladies here would kill for the chance to dance with me.”

She gave him a look. “It makes me a bit concerned about the English women.” She told him dryly.

Arthur laughed as they took their places to dance.

“I have to confess something.” He told her the next time they came close enough to talk.

“Please, don’t.” She threw back, her tone bored.

Arthur’s grin just got bigger. “The thing is, the more I get to know you, the more interested I get.”

“That’s normally how it goes.” She told him flatly.

“Yes. But, you see, this way I might actually fall in love. You’re way too witty for my heart.”

“I shall proceed to be boring then.”

Oh he didn’t think it was possible.

***

“What game are you playing?”

“FUCK!” Arthur yelled. “Where the fuck did you come from?” He demanded from Arya Stark, totally losing his composure for a second.

Honestly, she came from thin air.

She didn’t look impressed by him, but, then again, she never did. Arthur had the impression that Arya Stark was constantly considering if she should kill him, but then always deciding he wasn’t worth dirtying her pretty sword with.

“I’ll ask again.” She told him seriously. “What game do you think you’re playing?”

Arthur wanted to point out she was way too short to be threatening him, but he thought it might end badly for him.

“No game, Lady Stark, the second.” He teased. “I just like your niece.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Not like that!” He protested immediately. “I’m not sick, alright?”

“I don’t trust anyone with my family. Much less you. Cat is one of ours, keep that in mind.” She told him, her tone and her eyes dead serious.

“I swear to you, there’s no game.” He informed the short lady. “There’s just…” He sighed. “I just feel really close to Lady Cat, I like her a lot.”

“I hope you know you’re not marrying my sister.” She informed him.

“Anyone that knows me would tell you right now that this was a mistake.” Arthur informed her cheerily.

“What?”

“When people tell me I can’t do something, it just makes me really want to do it. Luck for you…” He continued when she opened her mouth to protest, “This is something that I take too seriously. I won’t ask your sister in marriage just because you told me not to.”

It didn’t escape her notice that he didn’t say he wouldn’t ask at all.

“And you won’t do it just because you like Cat.” She demanded of him.

“Yes, of course. That too.”

She clearly lost her patience with him. “Then why the hell are you acting like you’re planning on it?”

“Because I think there are great chances I’ll be in love with her by end of this visit.”

His answer clearly didn’t please mini Lady Stark. But that was hardly his problem.

***

“We’re going for a ride?” Cat asked excited, as he showed her the horses.

“Yes.” Arthur told her, happy to see her smiling. “Your mother told me today we could go swimming. So we’re taking the horses to a place I know.”

Cat squealed in happiness. “Is mom coming too?” She wanted to know.

Arthur looked at Lady Stark, unsure of the answer. “I am.” She confirmed. “I won’t swim, but I will come along.”

“But, mom…” Cat pouted.

“Aunt Arya and Uncle Jon will swim with you.”

“And I’ll be there.” Arthur reminded her. “I’ll swim too.”

“Fine…” Little Cat grumbled.

***

Being a King, Arthur wasn’t free to just grab a horse and go swimming. There were people out there that were still loyal to Vortigern, even after all this time.

By the time they were ready to go, they had a big party consisting of the royal guard and those who were following Lady Stark.

His guards gave them a wide berth, so they could swim in some privacy. Besides, it was said that Jon Snow and Arya Stark were worth 20 soldiers each. They should be fine.

It was all worth it, just to see Cat’s delighted face.

As the North was in a neverending Winter, she’d never been able to swim under the clear sky, and she was clearly loving the experience. Even serious Commander Snow was smiling at his niece enthusiasm.

Lady Stark was sitting on a blanket, watching her daughter have fun, while she talked to Bedivere and Bill.

Then, by a twist of Fate -and a very generous God -the most unpredictable thing happened. Arya was chasing Jon around the lake, while he carried Cat on his shoulders. Arya tried to splash them, and by accident the threw water at the bank; Bill remained completely dry -he was slippery even then -but Bedivere and Lady Stark got wet.

“Oh no…” Cat covered her little mouth with her hands.

“I am so sorry!” Arya hurried to say.

Bedivere just shook his head grinning, but Lady Stark got up and they all waited in panic for what she’d to say.

“That was a declaration of war.” She told her sister very seriously.

Arya arched an eyebrow. “Really? What are you going to do about that?”

Lady Stark started opening her dress, shocking them all. Arya herself seemed like she couldn’t believe her eyes.

“I’m going to make you pay.” She promised her sister, completely serious. “The North remembers.”

Cat squealed in absolute delight when her mother got into the water.

Arthur couldn’t remember another time when he’d felt so absolutely happy.