#out of context prisoner's throne

[fantasyfangirling4ever]

'"She's bitten me before, you know," he says with a grin. "It wasn't so bad."'

[jurdanhell]

EVERYBODY STFU

[cromulentreader]

S for Spoilers

[buckets-and-trees]

Companion

Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: Namor x female!Reader Word Count: 3.3k Summary: A month after the king of Talokan takes you as his betrothed, you question your position and the future as your expectations have been disappointed.

Content Warnings: angst to some relationship resolution, EXPLICIT SMUT (oral-female receiving, fingering), strong language

Additional Notes: This is a direct sequel to Consort - and while there's probably enough context to read this on its own, it will mean far less without reading the first part - the first part that could really be blamed by @nellycanwrite and being a TALENTED ARTIST AND MENACE. We would not be here if not for a particular piece she shared an unfinished sneak peak of last December.

You are restless, agitated, feeling completely unmoored.

Sleep is not going to come to you soon. It hadn’t the past few nights, but tonight you are not going to give yourself over to endless tossing and turning or trying to read yourself to distraction. You are exhausted, but too strung out to find any respite in your room. You quietly slip out of your chambers and begin to wander.

When you eventually find yourself in the throne room, you laugh bitterly to yourself. Naturally this is where your subconscious would take you. This is where your life completely altered course a month ago, betrayed and traded at your father’s hand for peace amongst kingdoms, the tectonic plates of your life not only shifted but shattered.

Only to be picked up by him moments later.

You look out over the expanse of the drop off from the perimeter of the throne room. The view out over Talokan is stunning in the simulated vibranium moonlight, but you resent the view. It’s one more painful piece of your new reality – as beautiful as this kingdom is, it’s still not the picturesque view of Fourchon and your former life in the kingdom of your upbringing.

You squeeze your eyes shut for a few moments, trying to control the anger and sadness.

When the traitorous trade had been made, you thought your father had sealed your fate as a token consultant at best or prisoner at worst, but K’uk’ulkan had spun a different narrative, one where the potential that would have been wasted in your former kingdom was something he saw and wanted at his side as his queen consort. His words had been a balm to your soul, and you had believed him when he said he’d wanted you – to take into counsel, to serve the kingdom, to influence. It was a lifeline offered, and you’d grasped that tether, letting him pull you in. He’d started to put you back together with promises and sealed it with a moment of intimate bliss beyond anything you could have imagined.

Then it was almost as if you’d been banished from his presence. At first you had accepted the explanations of business that needed his attention in other parts of the kingdom and other realms or that his schedule had demanded unanticipated changes, rarely getting to take meals with him, culminating no contact at all for the last two weeks.

You didn’t know it was going to be that way in the beginning though, so you’d spent your month acclimatizing and throwing yourself into life in Talokan. He’d said you were built to rule, driven to do good, why not with him, and since you’d thought he was telling you the truth, you had made the effort to get to know the people, know their culture, know their lives, their struggles, hopes, and dreams. It was intimidating at first – they were a fierce people brought up to be ready for war – but they also created and forged happiness, and you wanted to prove yourself. Before long, you forgot the nerves and tucked away the feeling of being an imposter, because you created relationships, took up projects, and started to create a new routine in your life that meant something to you.

You think the life you are building in this new kingdom is good except for the one perhaps most important thing.  

Tomorrow you are supposed to wed the ruler of this kingdom, and you felt that was now a hollow artifice. The final fitting for your wedding clothes today had felt frivolous and futile. How could you be expected to marry K’ul’kulkan with the distance, the disinterest?

You roll your shoulders back and lift your head up, refocusing your gaze out over this new place.

You will wed Namor with the same resolve that had held you together in the initial moments your life had been traded for an alliance – you would always be duty and honor bound. A foolish glimmer of a passionate partnership was more than you had expected growing up, it had been dangled in front of you for a moment but had quickly dwindled and ultimately disappeared. A political arrangement, and if the past few weeks were indicative of the future, then the only consolation was it seemed Namor would at least let you make your own choices and wouldn’t interfere with the projects you pursued, things you knew you could leverage for good with your position of power in his kingdom.

You only wish you hadn’t been given a glimmer of what might have been. It would have been much easier to manage without the taste of more.

“When you were not in your chambers, I thought I might find you here.”

You turn slowly, forcing your face to give away nothing of your shock or your resentment to the king.

“I was looking for you,” he says, crossing the large expanse of the space.

“Really, your highness?”

“Certainly. Tomorrow you are to become my bride.” He stops an arm’s length away from you.

You can’t help the hardening of your features you feel at this proclamation. “I’m amazed you remembered.”

He tilts his head. “Do not be petulant, Princess.”

“The picture you painted a month ago has not been the reality.”

“What complaint can you possibly have to give?”

“You lied to me,” you let your anger finally spill out in your tone. “With my life shattered to pieces in this very room, you started to put me back together by saying you said you wanted me as your queen consort, not just a wife to adorn your arm and give you an heir, a companion.” You take half a step closer to him. “But where have you been these weeks, especially this fortnight? You left the broken pieces of me on a shelf, discarded and forgotten.”

“Make no mistake,” Namor says and grips your chin, pulling you closer, “you are not forgotten.”

Your eyes are locked on each other now, and it seems you are each trying to delve into the soul of the other. He presses his thumb to your bottom lip, opening your mouth. The action is not rough in any way, but it serves to communicate his strength, your vulnerability, and that he could subject you to anything. “You are mine, Princess.”

Then suddenly he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his side before swimming swiftly into the jaws of his throne. He sets you aright and the two of you stand face to face.

“I sought you out tonight to remind you of what we spoke of that day on this very spot. Clearly you did not need a reminder, but perhaps insight into my choices. At present you think me rash and negligent or easily distracted to become betrothed to a stranger in a matter of moments and then seemingly abandon you.

“My offer of marriage was swift but not rash. I told you that day the things I had already learned about you, and the time we spent together showed even more clearly who you were. I have lived and ruled for hundreds of years, I know well how to read a person’s character, and the interaction we shared in those brief moments confirmed you had a fierce and noble spirit with both a compassion to sacrifice for your people and passion to match my own.”

Part of your chest starts to swell, but you dampen it down. He built you up with his words once before, and you are cautious not to get carried away so easily.

“That does not explain why you distanced yourself from me.” You needed more than flattery for your character.

“I am not easily surprised, but I confess I did not expect to be presented with the offer your father made. If you were to become the companion I wanted to see at my side, I knew I could not be the one to put you back together. I wanted the future queen that only you could forge by getting to know my kingdom, my people, our way of life, and integrating yourself into Talokan in your own right. Building your own reputation amongst them these past weeks, they see you are not merely a foreign princess acquired for an alliance, they will accept you as their queen because they know you. You have conquered them with your heart, your goodness, your passion, your sharp mind.”

He pauses to search your face. His words have both softened and strengthened you.

“I did not want to influence or distract in any of that.”

You nod, considering every word, not ready to respond yet.

“Now I did have certain things to attend to, some of which you will know very soon, but I confess I did limit and ultimately withhold the time we could have spent together.”

You open your mouth to argue this point, but he chuckles and shushes you.

“The more time I spent with you – scant as it was – and the more reports that came in from my advisors, my people, even your guards and the servants that attend you – yes, I spoke with them regularly – the more I did not want to share you with anyone else. Since I did not want to rob you of the unique and limited time to integrate into Talokan during our engagement, I cut myself off altogether.”

Your mouth hangs open at this rationalization, your brow furrowing further and further as he had explained his absence. But you do gather your wits, and challenge, “You avoided spending time together because you wanted to spend time with me?”

His smirk is nearly a smolder. “Once we are wed, I’m not sharing your time with anyone until I have to, and we will only spend our days apart as is strictly necessary when we resume royal duties after the honeymoon.”

Oh, he is good with that tongue, you think.

“Tomorrow, I will have you in every way, but for now I want to worship at the altar of what will be mine.”

He seizes your neck and pulls you in for a kiss. The heat is searing, and your lips demand equally of each other. He nips and you whimper, allowing him to plunge his tongue into your mouth. He is hungry for you, and you can’t deny him now.

With one hand still holding your neck and the other now at your shoulder, he moves so the back of your knees meet the edge of the throne, and he slowly pushes you down to sit, stepping between your legs. You look up at him, and you move a hand to his hip.

“Not tonight, my princess,” he says, his eyes dark with lust. “I can wait. I have an atonement and assurance to make of the sincerity of my intentions.”

You’re entranced as he kneels before you. The hand that was on your neck moves down over one of your breasts, along your ribs, and then grabs your hip, pulling you to the edge of the seat. You clutch the stone arms of the throne as his other hand goes beneath your nightdress, finding your knee, and pushes the fabric out of the way as he moves his hand diligently up your soft thigh. When that hand finishes its journey, he tears your underwear away, making you yelp and grasp at the hand he still has on your hip. You know he has preternatural strength, but to experience it, know it’s there in his veins at every moment, and that he must meticulously measure it out is terrifying yet intoxicating.

Much like he is in every sense.

He draws one of your legs over his shoulder and turns his head to press his warm lips to your tender flesh. Slow kisses. Deliberate. Your heart races. You’re desperate with anticipation but the exquisite torture is its own bliss. “Namor,” you plead.

He bites in punishment, and you cry out.

“That is not the name I told you to use,” he says, his voice even but stern. “I will not have you speak the name relegated to my enemies when you have me like this.”

No. Because this is the two of you, intimate. You needed to let him back in. You want to let him back in. “K’uk’ulkan,” you let it fall from your lips.

It draws a small genuine smile that softens this powerful man and warms you even more. He soothes the bite with another kiss, but then the next place his lips land is directly over your core. Your head falls back, and you utter his name again, unbidden as bliss shoots through your body. He is in no hurry as he begins mouthing at your most intimate parts. He warms you up with slow, methodical licks of his broad tongue. He gently draws your nether lips into his mouth, sucking and savoring. Your leg curls around his back as your body surrenders to him. He adjusts the hand over your hip to entwine his fingers with yours, anchoring you to each other while he continues to draw out your pleasure. He pulls back with a long suck, then he dives back in, leading with his nose, following it with another lick behind. When he reaches your clit, he circles it with the tip of his nose, gives a quick flick with his tongue, and then he puckers his lips to suck just the little bead with precision and concentrated force.

Little whimpers, whines, and longer moans fall from your mouth with abandon, and the thought that someone could hear you, could perhaps see this, is a fleeting fear and thrill before he resumes sucking and gliding along your folds, and you discard any worry because you can’t concentrate on anything but his exquisite actions. The king of Talokan is on his knees, continuing to plunder you on his throne. Your free hand threads into his dark hair, gloriously soft in your fingers, and you press him even closer. He hums against your cunt, pausing, and you can feel his lips curling in a smirk, but you don’t care. You need more, and so you tug his locks, and he happily yields to your insistence.

Oh, he is even better at this with his tongue, you think.

He zig-zags his tongue across your slit, then pushes it in your hole. In and out, and again, and again. He begins to speed up, and you’re trembling around him.

Then nothing at your core, and you cry out, your eyes shooting open to look down at him.

He chuckles. You narrow your gaze at him, “You–“

He surges up to put a stop to your words with a kiss, persistent until he feels you soften, then draws away and brushes his thumb over your cheek. “You’re meant for more than instant gratification, my pearl.”

Those words send a shiver down your spine, and you would be irked by the smile that’s still too close to a smirk on his face, but you both know he’s now earned this moment with you. What’s more, there’s a depth in the eyes of the look he’s giving you, proof that it’s not cockiness, but satisfaction tinged with yearning that strikes you to your core. “Please.”

“Tell me what you want, Princess. I will give you everything,” he swears, and you know he means it indefinitely.

“Make me come, my king.”

He nods, eyes remaining fixed on you as his hand moves to your cunt. He inserts one finger, pressing in and then drawing back out, and you hum in approval. He doesn’t hesitate to add a second finger, and you push your hips forward even more. The heat and concentration of his gaze on you is tremendous, and it continues stoking its own fire in your soul, but it’s more than you can handle in this moment, so you close your eyes and draw him back in for another searing kiss, plunging your tongue into his mouth, doing your best to undo him in at least some small way.

He seems to sense this is your intention, as you suck his bottom lip into your mouth, and he curls his fingers up and finds the spot on the wall of your pelvis that will be your undoing. You keen when he finds it, your head falling back. He presses just one open-mouthed kiss to the column of your neck, offered up vulnerably to him, and then he swiftly descends to bury his head back between your thighs. He immediately sucks your clit, his fingers continuing to plunder your tight channel, and you wrap your legs around his neck, crossing your ankles against his muscular back. The pleasure builds, coiling in your stomach, your limbs tightening. He curls those fingers again, expertly, and hurtles you over the edge, cries of ecstasy escaping your chest.

His mouth releases your clit, but his fingers carefully stroke you through your orgasm, drawing out the rippling sensations. He solemnly kisses up and down your leg, and you’re still riding the bliss, but you can feel his eyes trained up on you once more.

Just as you think he will withdraw, his fingers pick up speed up again, but he plunges them in deeper. His lips return to torment you with pleasure, and you grasp at his head, though the action is futile as you are no match for his immense strength. His free hand is now planted at the base of your spine, not allowing you to squirm even one inch away from his ministrations. He is in earnest, and so your second orgasm breaks over you quickly, and you collapse forward, the desperate whimpers of release swallowed up by him a moment later as he straightens up and his lips seek yours. You sink into the kiss, and he pulls you from the throne and into his embrace. He moves easily to reclaim his throne, much as he has reclaimed you. His lips continue to kiss you, but they drift away from your lips and back – moving over your cheeks, your jaw, along your neck, softly over your eyes, over your forehead, your shoulders, the spot beneath your ear, the juncture at your collarbone, ghosting over your temples, every bit of skin that’s exposed to him. He wants all of you. You’re powerless to do anything but accept his ministrations, and you have no desire to refuse this exploration, blissed out as you are.

When his kisses slow, you bring your delicate fingers up to caress his face. He rests his forehead against yours, and his arms around your torso tighten, pressing you closer.

“Do not doubt that you are the companion that I want,” he murmurs. “After so long as the solitary ruler of my people, I have no need to settle for anything less than exactly who I want as my queen consort. Tomorrow you will be crowned.”

“Tomorrow.” You smile. “And I do think I’ll finally be able to sleep.”

“Oh, is that why you were wandering in the first place?”

You laugh. “Well, it was the mind that was agitated, but now…”

“Now we understand each other?”

“We do.”

“Then I hope you understand I’m not done with you yet, Princess.”

You gasp as his hand returns to your quim.

“I want one more, to seal this with three.”

You will be boneless by the time the king of Talokan deigns to surrender you to your bed, but every touch, as lost in pleasure as you are now, only tethers you more strongly to him.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Reblog, comment, and share please. Well-meaning menaces are WELCOME in my askbox.

@littlet-holmes you asked to be tagged when I published part two, so... here we are. :) Also thinking @nunya7394 @elsolario @amorestevens @writing-for-marvel might be interested.

[princessofmerchants]

My prediction about the next four books SJM will publish

I wanted to get this down somewhere, in part to process my angst about the possibility of what may come last in this next cluster of book releases 😫 but also to record the plot and character threads I am seeing as important heading into the next stretch of books SJM will release.

This includes HOFAS, ACOTAR, and TOG spoilers so it's after the break.

DISCLAIMER: These are just my guesses based on various interviews SJM has given both before and after the HOFAS release — THE ONLY SERIES BOOK THAT'S CONFIRMED IN THIS LIST IS ACOTAR5 BEING NEXT, and with that one, the main characters and plot threads I'll mention have also not yet been confirmed (beyond an avalanche of textual evidence 👀)

So, here are my predictions, circa 1.5 weeks after HOFAS was released:

➡️NEXT: ACOTAR5 - Az/Gwyn + Nesta and the Valkyries (which should also include Mor, ideally in a shared storyline with Emerie), Illyria / Ramiel / the Prison (and maybe a return of the pegasuses to Prythian), Gwydion and Truth Teller (not to mention the other two Made blades Nesta forged in ACOSF - also will Narben make an appearance? 👀), and I also think the first part of the Autumn Court drama may be told in this book - the truth about what happened between Mor and Eris, Beron's ongoing treachery, and Beron may die in this book making Eris High Lord (though some of these items may also be in ACOTAR6 instead - I do think the Mor and Eris story needs to come out in ACOTAR5 though, for Az to make peace with his 500 years of pining for her)

➡️FOLLOWED BY: A Throne of Glass crossover book - Shifter Fae + humans, more history and context about when the ancient Erilea Fae world-jumped to Midgard and served the Asteri, a story that creates threads and connections (of some kind, no idea how, and not sure which ToG characters it would entail) to Lidia (deer shifter with fire magic a la Aelin), Tharion (and the Mer as a people - ToG stans, remind me, were there mer in the ToG series at all? I'm pretty sure Rigelus says they hailed from the same world as the wolves and other Midgard shifters - I've read ToG in full but not as closely as ACOTAR and CC), and Ithan (wolf shifter with ice magic a la Dorian)

➡️THEN I AM THINKING: CC4: House of Many Waters - This would be the continuation of the story threads SJM did not resolve or finish by the end of HOFAS: Lidia's "service" to the Ocean Queen (and more RuhnLidia story with Brann and Ace 😍), Tharion/Sathia with Flynn and their earth magic / Avallen and the pegasuses, Ithan as the new Prime of the Wolves (and something with Perry - why did the antidote fade for her so fast?), Firstlight Zero, widespread distribution of the antidote, Ariadne (where did she go??!), and maybe more portal hopping to Prythian for Bryce, Hunt, Ember, and Randall (OH and maybe Ruhn here too, to get him in the same room as Rhys 👀) to further develop the cross-world friendships we saw forming in HOFAS

➡️WHICH MEANS FOURTH IN SJM'S AIRPLANE TAXI LINE WOULD BE (SOBS): ACOTAR6 - Elain/Lucien, Band of Exiles, Firebird retelling, Koschei, the mortal queens, and the conclusion of the big magical conflict that began with the finding of the Dread Trove in ACOSF, not to mention the Archeron sisters finally acknowledging and healing all of their familial baggage that was born from their collective and generational hardships from their time as humans (so Elain also coming to terms with her Seer powers and being Fae / no longer human - also answering the question: What happened when Elain went into the Cauldron?), I also think some of the Autumn Court drama would play out in this story Helion/Lady Autumn and Lucien's heritage (Day Court heir?), as well as more information about Papa Archeron from the time period of ACOWAR when Lucien traveled with him (LOTS of processing complex and problematic parents in this one!)

Again, these are JUST MY IDEAS - the ToG book guess is based on SJM saying after ACOTAR5 she's excited about the world her next book will be in which she implied was not the CC or ACOTAR world, and which will be emotional for her because of "who may pop up" - if that doesn't scream a return to her to the ToG universe then I don't know what would.

Then the 3rd and 4th predictions follow from that 2nd one being ToG and what I think she may focus on in it to add layers to her crossover - which seems like something she would want to do after how much work she's put into it so far.

I think there's a stronger and deeper fanbase for ACOTAR6 than there will be for CC4, so I think that could impact a decision to write and release CC4 first (since us ACOTAR stans would wait decades for the conclusion of that story and still buy a bazillion copies of it).

WHICH MEANS (SOBS), if these books are released one every 1.5 years on average... It may be quite a few years until we get our Elucien book 😭 ACOMAF came out in 2016. It would be PAST 2026 when ACOTAR6 gets released, over 10 years, until we get to see what actually comes of Elain's and Lucien's mating bond, if the above winds up bring true.

I swear, Eluciens are going to get the trophy for longest wait to see these two in their endgame, bless our patient souls 🏆

(There is always a chance the last two in the list will be in reverse order, with ACOTAR6 followed by CC4, but even if that winds up being the case, it would still be three books from now for ACOTAR6.)

[dalekofchaos]

Context

Return of the Dwemer.

the Dwemer returning just as suddenly as they left. Maybe go to a city and find it overrun with Dwarves and you have to escape and get together a band of warriors from both sides of the civil war in order to save Skyrim from annihilation or join the Dwemer. As part of the dlc you would get the option of having up to four followers.

Another cool option for a small add-on would be a homebase for your followers like in fallout: New Vegas. A fort where you could send them and make it a thriving community of followers

Post-Civil War. We get to see what happens after you win the Civil War. How Skyrim thrives after Imperial or Stormcloak victory. You crush the last Imperial or Stormcloak hold outs and execute the remaining generals of the losing side. If you helped the Imperials win, you could stop a Thalmor plot attempting to put Elisif on the throne to be their puppet. You could have Elenwen removed from Skyrim and decide who ultimately becomes High King/Queen Of Skyrim. Ultimately it comes down to Balgruuf or Elisif. If you helped the Stormcloaks win. You help Ulfric eliminate all opposition to his ascension to High King and help the Stormcloaks kill the Thalmor Justiciars and eventually burn the Thalmor Embassy to the ground.

Thalmor invasion of Skyrim some time in the future. Set up for a massive battle. You go to help the Legion/Stormcloaks, you have to recruit the remaining enemy Legionnaires/Stormcloaks. Basically every follower you've had and given crazy good equipment to us there. The Blades are all there if you rebuilt them. For some plot reason you have Talos's actual personal amulet which reduces Shout cool down by 100%. You ride Odaahving over the Thalmor Flagship, followed by Duurnehviir. Storm Call. Become Ethereal and leap off your dragon, landing on the deck surrounded by the leaders of the Thalmor. Pull out Wuuthrad. Go to town.

End result is that the Thalmor invasion of Skyrim is utterly defeated and their ability to attack Cyrodiil is severely crippled.

giving the Bard's College a bigger, more fleshed-out quest and adding the ability to play instruments would be neat. You could play instruments, there could be skill books that level your bard skills or song books that would be like spelltomes where you learn new songs. For quests you could have to perform in front of various audiences.

The Forsworn. There are hints throughout the game that they are planning something big, letters found in several camps etc. But other than the forsworn conspiracy there’s not much there. A branching quest line that builds off of that quest, about retaking the Reach or fighting against the Forsworn would be cool. Could even maybe spill over into a hold of High Rock.

For the Forsworn, it depends on what you chose for the Forsworn conspiracy. If you killed Madanach(and everyone in the prison) then you hear reports of the Forsworn planning a massive attack on the Reach planning to avenge their king and retake the Reach. It's clear the Forsworn will not stop these constant attacks on the Reach, so you have to put them down.

If you sided with the Forsworn, you get to help the Forsworn retake the Reach. Displace the Nords, killing the Silverblood family and retake Markarth. Madanach replaces whomever the Jarl was but as king. The Imperials would work with the Forsworn ran Markarth, but The Stormcloaks would not, so better to only choose this path if the Imperials win the Civil War.

The Last of the Snow Elves: Lost tribe of Snow Elves seeks to rebuild their civilization. They seek out other healthy tribes, search for a solution to heal the afflicted Falmer, fight to reclaim their ancestral home, and they seek revenge on those factions still working to eradicate them. This could certainly be a fairly long and interesting DLC. We could get into political shit with the descendants of Nords who still hold a grudge, could get another Elder Scroll on the scene by finding out one of them has the ability to undo the tricks of the Dwemer, some weird time travel shit to find out more about that Elder Scroll, more about the motiviations of the Dwemer.

Post-Paarthurnax Dilemma. If you sided with Delphine, you will aid in re-establishing a new guild of warriors 'Dragonguard' by allocating resources and taking over forts across the province, and prepare an incursion into the heartlands against the false Empire and their Thalmor masters. If you sided with the Greybeards, you will start a new academy for teaching the voice, and train a league of dragon-riding warrior monks set out to extinguish the undead legions of a resurrected dragon priest - a master necromancer and the teacher of Vals Varen and Lu'ah Al-Skaven - who wants to use the buried and recently-dead of Skyrim to conquer the province for himself.

Akavari. An Akaviri expedition arrives on the shores of Eastmarch, having heard the cries of the return of the dragons. They've come searching for the Dragonborn and to join in the hunt for dragons. You venture across the province on dragon hunts with several key new characters, testing your mantle against new dangerous species of dragons in new and old re-vamped locations.

After several successful ventures and proving yourself to the Akaviri captains, they proclaim you as their new leader, and advise you to forge your own kingdom in Tamriel. If you sided with the Empire, you must now usurp their claim upon Skyrim and push the remanent of Tullius' legion out by force, for the Mede Dynasty refuses to acknowledge your new seat of power in Skyrim. If you sided with the Stormcloaks, you must usurp Ulfric's claim as high king before the moot, and convince each of the hold's Jarls, either through favour or battle, to submit to your righteous authority.

I feel like The Dragonborn becoming Emperor could be for Skyrim, what The Shivering Isles was for Oblivion. See this post on what a Dragonborn becoming Emperor could look like

The Psijic Order. Magic in skyrim doesn't really feel too fleshed out, There could be quests that give you entirely different spells instead of the usual 5 spells plus reskins. It could have you solve the mystery on why they never had much screentime.

And at the end, it could have you restoring winterhold

Dragonborn Conquest. Similar to my Dragonborn Emperor concept, but doing it for the good of the people of Skyrim.

The premise would be that the Dragonborn is sick to death of this wretched Civil War. One side is subservient to the true enemy and the other side is full of racists. The Imperials have literal criminals as Jarls(Maven and Siddgeir) Stormcloaks have paranoid lunatics and the corrupt as Jarls. Both sides have good arguments, but both cannot be allowed to control Skyrim. So the Dovahkiin decides it’s time for the people to open their eyes and take Skyrim back for the people. Nords, Imperials, Redguards, Elves, Argonians and the Khajit.

The Dragonborn’s promises

The Khajit caravans get to gain entry in the cities of Skyrim instead of being forced on the outskirts

Restoring Talos worship

Argonians gain entry into Windhelm instead of being forced on the docks

The Dunmer will receive better housing than the Grey Quarter

All citizens of Skyrim will be treated equally under the new High King

Proper Jarls to rule and govern their holds and to maintain stability, peace and justice to their people instead of ruling out of greed or power

An end to the Civil War by any means necessary

An end to corrupt families like the Black Briars and Silver-Bloods

Rebuilding Winterhold

Giving The Reach back to the Forsworn

The execution of Ulfric Stormcloak and expulsion of General Tullius and the Legion.

The final promise. An end to the Thalmor Justiciar witch hunts and kidnappings and the forced removal of the Thalmor from Skyrim

So yeah, The Dragonborn should’ve been able to become High King of Skyrim and rule for the good of the people of Skyrim. Be able to handpick the Jarls for the good of the land and been able to side against the Stormcloaks, Imperials and Thalmor.

The Dragonborn's death is inevitable, but the Daedra are scheming to keep the Dragonborn's soul after his death, while the Aedra want to reward the Dragonborn with Soverngarde.

Was inspired by this

[blacklegsanjiii]

i'm not really a sanji girlie but i've been watching skypeia so. what if skypeian sanji au (idk how tjis would work but maybe he escapes germa thru one of the other entrances to skypeia that are referenced? or he has skypeian heritage on his mom's side. idk i just had the thought of sanji with wings and antennae and my brain went brr)

There is a Skypiean!Sanji here. However this has been something I've wanted to expand upon, especially in the context of loved!Sanji. So here we go!

Skypeian!Sanji whose mother and father rule a kingdom in the North Blue and is a prince with basically no chance at the throne as he's the fourth born child and the third born son, but he has wings and antennae like his siblings and mother. His mother is Skypeian and teaching them the language as they prepare to head for the East Blue. Sanji knows what they are, there is no hiding it after the failures of their forefathers.

They're attacked as they cross over and they're doing their best to defend themselves when Sanji is grabbed from his hiding spot, the guards slaughtered in front of him as he is dragged out of a window and his mouth covered, muffling whatever screams came out of his mouth as he is ripped from his family and home. Sanji is held prisoner for months and he doesn't know if his family is going to come for him or if he's just dead to them.

The people holding him put him in the helmet and tie his wings down cover them and taunt him for months and there's nothing he can do except cry and remember the stories his mother told him of the All Blue and Skypiea and all of the fun he had with his siblings and father. He's in there for a long time, so long that he lost count until pirates attack the ship and he's dragged out of his cell he is screaming and crying and the pirate with his braided mustache stomps on his helmet hard enough to open the jaw part.

Then the ship goes down and Sanji wakes up on the rock with the pirate and is staring at him and he stares back as he's given a small bag of food and sent to the other side of the rock. He's waiting for a ship to come get them and hopes it's his family but they don't come. No one does. For months. He's waiting for everyone to come get him. Sanji goes and finds the man, lacking a leg with a bag of treasure and not food, Sanji is so frustrated and he cries again as the man watches him rip the jacket off his body and move a knife to one of his wings. Zeff stops him and pulls him close and tells him not to be dumb, those are more precious than his leg. Sanji loses his knife to the man.

When they are saved Zeff makes sure no one comments on the small boys wings, they work on getting the helmet off and everyone is surprised at the antennae sticking out of his matted blond hair and the swirly eyebrow that everyone realizes he's not supposed to be there. Zeff keeps the boy with him and refuses to let him be alone really. The kid doesn't talk about his family as what is canon continues, the only difference is Sanji covers his antennae. Even after he joins the crew. Everyone finds out over time though. Nami and Luffy and chopper find out on Drum, Robin on Skypiea when she hears the story of one of their girls running off with a prince who looks a lot like their cook. Usopp and Franky during Ennies Lobby/Water Seven. Brook on thriller Bark.

No one brings it up to the cook, lets him bring it up to them, though Luffy will preen his wings because they're so soft when Sanji is shirtless and not hiding them under his shirts and such. Sanji doesn't actually know what to do with how soft everyone is being with him. Zoro finds out on Sabaody when Sanji takes a particularly hard kick to the back and sees blood soaking through and someone shouts about his wings. They don't get to talk until after the time skip. When Sanji decides to forgo his bandana and coat in favor of his extra bits being free and not cramped.

Everyone always asks him why he didn't stay in Skypiea and he's like 'i know literally no one there, I have no idea who my family is there, they hated what my mother did' and just leaves it at that and things still go as Canon. Until Zou where there's a singular member of the Royal Family of Germa, not in anything from the 66, just her royal outfit as she tries to calm down the Strawhats, that Sanji is fine. She is doing well in taking their anger and the fact they keep saying she kidnapped the cook when she didn't. Her brothers did.

So the rescue team goes with Pink and meets Sanji's family who are also dealing with the Big Mom pirates. Pink unpins her antennae as they arrive and are let into the castle and led to a main sitting room where Sanji is being preened by an older woman and a man is laughing as three other Sanji's with different hair keep talking about the beast pirates and how Big Mom is also after Sanji after Fishman Island and as a swipe to them. Luffy yells and snaps to Sanji who catches him and curses him.

"This is him? How charming!" The woman coos as she pats Luffy's cheek.

"Yes, this is my captain, Luffy." Sanji sighs.

"You stole my cook!" Luffy snaps at her.

"Oh dear, he's possessive isn't he?" She laughs lightly. "My apologies, our children were so excited to be reunited they didn't seem to take into account what repercussions there could be." She apologizes.

"And who might you all be?" Nami asks with a frown.

"My apologies, I am King Judge, this is my wife Queen Sora's and our children. Princess Reiju, our oldest and her younger brothers, the quadruplets and princes: Ichiji, Niji, Sanji whom you already know, and Yonji who is our youngest." The older man smiles kindly.

"You're a prince?!" Nami, Brook, and Chopper yell at him.

"I haven't been since I was eight?" Sanji asks with a look to his mother.

"Oh, you still are. Besides we seem to have a common enemy in Big Mom." Sora smiles.

"So you're the Skypiean who ran away?" Chopper asks her as they're led to a dining room to eat and Judge talks to Nami about things they can provide short term aid in the fight, not men but equipment. As they're prepping to leave a few days later they're staring Big Mom attacks and the crew and Germa begin fighting as Jinbei shows up.

When they escape and make it to Wano and the crew is gathered Luffy and Chopper tells everyone. The story of Vinsmoke Sora running with a Sea Dweller, their family, the lost prince who became a pirate. Sanji shrugs as Jinbei laughs heartily as that story, at least the first half, had been around for a long time. Over twenty five years at least.

"Yeah, that's about when my parents met. Hence the appearance." Sanji shrugs.

"Amazing." Jinbei laughs harder.

[forgottenroisin]

Macdara I of Malconaire, King of Oak & Tree, Lord of the Wood, Wielder of Guardian the Oakenbrand, Keeper of the Sacred Groves, Warden of Malconaire, called Oakensteel

ok so obv these titles are 10000% made up/aren't his real stuff etc etc etc (also defffff are considered a list of his seacred duties rather than his honors in this context!!), but!! i thought, in light of this new info we've got re: kings and their castles in astaira, we might wanna talk a bit about the malconaires' og kingly ancestor? now, we've talked abt how they're one of the oldest great houses in all astaira, so im guessing that'd mean this dude is probs a mytho-historic figure to them, a la king arthur?

we'd also talked asp a bit abt how, maybe way back when, astaira was maybe originally ~multiple countries~ that came together to fight the gods and, after that, set up elections between them and their whole culture/convention of elected leaders kinda sprang out of that? ~if we do go w that idea, im guessing that house malconaire and the other of the oldest houses were kings of their respective lands? like, lorcan and stafford seem to be some of those but calleary, for example, is one we've explicitly talked abt being a newer house, so they probs ~weren't, for example?

(note: @forgottenvalentina believes this is all nonsense btw!! she will stubbornly maintain they are ~not of the blood royal as she herself most certainly is! lkjasdklfjsdjf as lizzy said, they're of a ~broken line of kings whereas she is ~not -- roderick: 'wait didn't i kill those guys?' ;DDD)

either way tho! what i ~really wanted to talk abt a bit is ~actually castle malconaire or, more precisely, its guardian tree and an idea i think ive mentioned a bit that i actually stole wholesale from the odyssey #sorrynotsorry so, in the odyssey, its revealed (its a whole thing but anyway) how odysseus carved his marriage bed out of a still-living tree (in his case an olive but shhh) and it was still this living, growing thing and here's a recreation of how it is kinda described w like...the bed is a tree but lowkey so is the whole bedroom sorta thing:

we've also discussed how the tree, like in the odyssey, is the center of the home and how its 1) a guardian and 2) also the sheath of guardian the sword. well, i thought it might also be, nestled upstairs amongst higher branches the lord's bed/bedroom even as it reaches out of the roof far above and to the sky, and possibly below...the ancient malconaire throne...

like, maybe those trees at the front door are all part of this one absolutely insanely mammoth ancient ancient ancient tree that's been built around to make a home/castle, and at its central stalk right in the middle of the great hall is the sheath and the throne a la

(idk why the above wont preview like the others???) or

but still living, growing out of the tree like

or even

bc perhaps ~it is also the portal to find the sword...and to free the gods. what if the reason the sword is lost is bc its acting as a key in a very, very ancient lock, one of many no doubt such as the eternal flame in kolchis and others im sure, that's helping to hold back the gods or smth????? idk?????

i was just thinking abt how, like, in celtic mythology trees sometimes ~are portals...and also prisons, think merlin walking inside the tree and never walking out again as a more modern telling of this concept. a lot of celtic heroes walked into the otherworlds by walking through the opening in a tree and arrived in faerie etc but once they went in they often never returned or, if they did, it was centuries after they'd left and that sort of thing...

so anyway basically the staffords, malconaires, and lorcans think they're doing good by reclaiming the lost stafford sword, and thus galvanizing astaira to fight for its freedom, hoping to keep the gods at bay, but in so doing, they're actually unwittingly making the jail that binds them weaker??? or smth?? idk...alskjfkljdsf like, there's a reason their ancestors sealed it away and ensured that none but their bloodline, its keepers, could ever undo what they'd done, etc??? but the secret of what they're keeping has been lost over the centuries and just the legends of the sword remain now unrelated to the tale of the irmprisoned evil gods??? idk!!!

this might also be part of why @forgottengodfrey is helping them bc he's read all these ancient tomes and sort of puzzled out that these families are significant to his apocalyptic dreams?

~also, side note, @forgottenrian regardless of all the above, v much wants the ancient stafford sword to prove his legitimacy as ruler of astaira so yeah!! lotsa threads here idk????

its also like...we can have parts of this be true w/o the rest necessarily needing to be true. for example, we can have the cosmetic stuff like the central tree and not the plot stuff, or like just the throne or just the portal or...whatever!! but yeah idk i was like 'we could maybe combine all of this???' and went a bit bonkers here hahaha i def will not be offended if you guys aren't feeling this it was just a wild notion i had so i wanted to share! lajksfkljsdf

EDIT! oh one more thing! what if the sword, guardian, is called such bc its actually -- or its hilt is -- a piece of the guardian tree and so its said that the blade shall always remain sharp so long as its wielded by a malconaire but for any nonbeliever who picks it up it shall return to a branch? and it has some eternal-living ivy twining around the hilt? some visuals:

also the door:

[alicentsgf]

"No she didnt ask for his death, its more about the asumption we can make about it all. Speaking completely and only to the book exclusively, I have to ask, what do you think would have been Maelor's fate if he'd been brought back to the red keep and Rhaenyra?" mmm I understand where you're coming from, and I agree that there are assumptions we can make based on the book's context. But I think Maelor's fate would have depended on Rhaenyra's strategy at that moment. If he had been brought back to the Red Keep, she might have seen him as a bargaining chip or leverage against Aegon's supporters rather than killing him outright, especially if she believed doing so would further destabilize her own rule or alienate her supporters. I think Rhaenyra would have seen him as both a potential threat and a valuable pawn. Political decisions often involve more nuance, and she might have calculated that keeping him alive—at least for a time—could serve her interests in a different way, like future leverage, public sympathy, or dividing her enemies....I think there’s room for interpretation about how exactly Rhaenyra might have handled the situation. Then again, we can only assume, but as George himself said in his post, Rhaenyra didn't ask for Maelor to die—that wasn't her intention. Yet, people still insist that she wanted him dead?

I get that, maybe I didnt make it clear that I dont think he's dead immediately I'm talking exclusively about if Rhaenyra wins the war. In fact, at the point where she puts out a reward for the return of Maelor she is winning, as shes sitting the throne in that moment. It was Maelors death and Helaenas subsequent suicide that changed that. I just think on some level Rhaenyra must know when shes asking for Maelor to be found that he cant be allowed to live beyond her own death. Shes not completely blind to the realities of the situation, despite her political frailties. There would be another sucession crisis in some form, for sure. Rhaenyra and Daemon arent known to be particulary politically savvy so I dont hold out much hope for them playing any kind of long, political game and them like... holding Maelor as a prisoner when he has no male Targaryen relatives left? that makes no sense to me. When they can so easily remove the one potential claiment their enemies could rally behind, why wouldnt they? Its not like they dont have a history of removing their otherwise innocent inconveniences, e.g. rhea, laenor, jaehaerys, etc

To me theres just no eventuality where Rhaenyra rules peacefully and Maelor just exists living as Maelor Targaryen, even under lock and key. That would be a terrible look on her, to hold her nephew, a child, hostage. Whilst he lives he remains politically relevant, disturbing the peace just by existing. And that is Rhaenyras objective - to rule peacefully, and to have her heir (which would be Joffrey in this version of events) ascend peacefully. So on some level she must know Maelors claim has to be neutralised at some point, even if she doesnt want to acknowledge that directly. Like I dont think she would revel in the idea of killing him, I just think she would see him as collateral and be prepared to do anything to protect her own children, as you would expect!

At best shes smart enough to publically show "mercy" and send him to the wall or something (because theres no way he gets sent to Oldtown where he has allies), but lets be honest he'd probably still disppear or be killed in some ""accident"" at some point following that decision. A convenient little incident, like getting thrown from a horse lmao. More likely Daemons doing, if he still lives, or Rhaenyras council if not, but Rhaenyra wouldnt ask questions. One life to avoid another war would be totally justifiable to her, even if it was the life of a child.

[horizon-verizon]

Final Thoughts on Show!Rhaenys before We Get into the Second Season

I'm not hopeful about Rhaenys in season 2 because the trailer showed us that she'd be sticking to her "no war" and "anti-emotions" agenda even after Luke's death and our knowledge of who Otto is/his emotional influence on Alicent.

I clearly see show!Rhaenys became as bitter as she was. Despite her father-- Prince Aemon--having been the named and official heir plus her being his only surviving child, she was automatically, technically, his heir as well. But because Jaehaerys I didn't believe women should rule like a man AND worried that there would be a civil conflict between Viserys' supporters (namely Daemon) & the Velaryons-Baratheons (Jocelyn Baratheon was Rhaenys' mother and was alive at the time), he decided to use an election knowing how it would go to place a universally uncontested male heir. Show!Rhaenys and dbk!Rhaenys were, some argue, a better fit for the throne by character. It would so likely make any person, woman, resentful of her lot & thus express her resentment...

But the issue is that show!Rhaenys is too cynical & she decides to take it out o the wrong person, the person who is probably the least responsible for her position and the person who is more vulnerable to such expressions at that moment. To the point where she's passive-aggressively trying to discourage a good thing (Rhaenyra believing she could be Queen) when she tells Rhaenyra that men would "sooner" destroy the realm than "see" a woman on the throne. This isn't advice, it's her bitterness being expressed, because she doesn't ever follow up with how Rhaenyra can constructively begin to come up with any strategies.

Because yes, things ARE different for Rhaenyra. Viserys made her his OFFICIAL, declared heir. Rhaenys was never that. Viserys also never called for any Great Council, he relied on the already extant custom that the King's word was Law to justify his choosing Rhaenyra.

Men will never accept ANY woman, so I (Rhaenyra) do what I must anyway.

In the context of a woman having to become Queen in a patriarchal world where there literally ever has been a Queen regnant, Doylistically, why is this woman who the show is saying is supposed to be strong of character or will submitting to patriarchal will wholeheartedly and trying to get Rhaenyra to?!!! Okay, so men will not accept me...am I supposed to just lie down and accept that when I DO have an opportunity to rule anyway, which Viserys/the Monarch, allowed me? "That's how it is"...okay, so bc that's how it is, I should just do nothing at all to improve my place?

It's not smart as people claimed, it's not insightful. It's you putting us all against a wall & saying you shouldn't even try to cross bc you'll fail. It's an ingredient to anti-progress, anti constructivism.

Rhaenys was also absolutely being hypocritical with Alicent in episode 9 about "windows" in prisons, because she has not really protested against Corlys sending off their daughter to be married off at 12 purely for his own ambitions like Otto.

You are wiser than I believed you to be, Alicent Hightower. A true queen counts the cost to her people. And yet you toil still in service to men. Your father, your husband, your son. You desire not to be free, but to make a window in the wall of your prison. Have you never imagined yourself on the Iron Throne? I'll leave you with your thoughts.

She has done what I already described to Rhaenyra in episode 2. And she says to Corlys she's over not having been chosen...yet says what she says how she says about the lords never going to accept her in episode 2.

And while being anti-war for "the realm", she also kills dozens of smallfolk bc "it's not my war"...but the greens can use this as an excuse against her, Rhaenyra, and the blacks to open the war and make themselves look that much more righteous! (Rhaenyra is still close r to the blacks than "neutral" through Baela & Rhaena) So is she really that careful or conscientious even in her goal for there to be no war?!

If Rhaenys meant "realm" as both nobles & peasants, she has a funny way of showing her concern for "the realm". If not and she just meant nobles, is she really all that wise or compassionate?!

But Rhaenys in the show is made not to see any of that. You can say she's "keeping it real", but sometimes you stifle your own hopes so you cannot see possible paths to the thing you want to accomplish or change. Therefore, show!Rhaenys is actually being very blind & close minded.

It reminds me of some people's tendency to say "I'm just being real" (not so much Rhaenys but the justifications for her behavior towards Rhaenyra) & being nihilistic or over-cynical kinda places us back to square one, the place where we stay victimized by the status quo.

I mean, think of how if people had just accepted "that's just how it is", we'd still have legal segregation, women wouldn't be able to vote or own their own properties or have their own bank cards w/o having to get paper permits from their dads & husbands into the 70s!!!

Show!Rhaenys' particular brand of bitterness (that some of us have misidentified as "truthtelling"), if allowed to be totally justified can serve to reaffirm oppressive status quos.

Which is why I just prefer book!Rhaenys, who many have pointed out was not bloodthirsty but merely thinking of a ruthless strategy and eager to protect her own interests & those that she loved. Because no matter what either show or book Rhaenys wanted, war was definitely coming for not just Daemon & Rhaenyra, but Baela and Rhaena. They are Daemon's daughters no matter who their supposed host was [HotD, Baela is Rhaenys' & Corlys' ward], how would the greens just ignore them?!! Baela is very much like her father, by the evidence and I'm sure Rhaena would also not just abandon Daemon or Rhaenyra, not having had been close to them for years and Daemon literally being their father who has raised them with real love since both were born.

To clear up some misunderstandings about the original book, no one at the black council believed for a second that greens wouldn't come for them or were really "warmongers":

The greens would have never let go of the people they usurped (Rhaenyra & her kids) who could come back at any moment to oust them...that's how usurpations usually go. Look at Robert with Dany and Rhaegar's children!

["The Blacks and the Greens"] -- further proof of greens' intentions against the blacks

Rhaenys says this ("The Blacks and the Greens"):

Bk!Daemon was actually the one practicing some caution, against a full front attack on KL. (Something bk!Rhaenys advocated for.) BUT like Rhaenys, Daemon in the OG story wasn't against a war. Not because he is he's "turned a new leaf" against violence and being an actual, non-playful menace just for the fun of it (which was never his character), but so he can protect his family...proven by how before he speaks, we have Rhaenyra worry over the fates of her sons going into battle in Rhaenys' suggestion. Bc again, the war was nearly inevitable, and definitely became so after Lucerys' death.

Bk!Daemon knew how hard it'd be to fight against actual dragons. He specifically wanted them to use them as a last resort & first send letters to different lords to get them to show their allegiances & prepare for war, fight under Rhaenyra's name. And so they knew who to watch out for.

["The Blacks and the Greens"] -- Black council, Daemon's Words

Corlys was also not anti-war, he was anti-full blaze attack on KL bc it would destroy the things they were fighting for.

["The Blacks and the Greens"] -- Black council, Corlys Disagreeing w/Rhaenys

So Daemon & Rhaenys' roles are almost switched for the show, and this reveals another layer of how the show seeks to subdue their female characters into parrots and puppets of men around them for the male gaze, turn them into something "nonthreatening" & more influenced by men's wills & ambitions than they had been in the book. [xenonwitch]

I say "almost" because the show was anti war vs "go-go-go" instead of the book's full attack on KL vs dragons-as last-resort.

Doesn't matter that the scenes where Baela tries to get Rhaenys to see that were deleted, this situation exists without any of their permission, consent, will, etc. Book!Rhaneys has the sense to not try to deny or hide from it. No one tried.

No, show!Rhaenys doesn't offer very good things, nor is "wise" as people claim she is. "Wise" is different from "clever", and claiming that this iteration of Rhaenys was "wise" really just positions this discouragement of actual action and seizure of opportunity for an event where else-time didn't or couldn't happen is categorically unwise!! And a way to re-affirm patriarchal license of suppressed female ambition or rage.

This was already wrote this on Twitter, under this post (LINK):

[sarnai4]

Prison Again

I am a major fan of Dragons, but I'll admit it's rife with plot points that don't get fully used in my eyes. Another one of those was in "Something Rotten on Berserker Island." Dagur's turned on by his Berserkers and imprisoned. This all happens pretty quickly. There's the revolt, he's put in prison, Snotlout breaks him out, and they become the dynamic duo, powering my love of their friendship (that I STILL don't think was shown enough, but okay. That's what fanfics are for, I guess). Still, there's so much that could have happened.

First off, Savage shouldn't have done the coup that day. Of all the days, he literally picked the time when the Berkians were going to show up. Seriously? That's the equivalent of trying to usurp the throne the same day when some of the king's best allies are coming for a special feast. The level of arrogance/stupidity is hilarious.

The next factor is how Dagur's fear was proven true. He admitted that the reason he let people think he killed Oswald was so that they'd think he was tough enough to lead them. That's another way of saying he didn't think they'd believe he was tough enough if he simply took over. He couldn't just be himself. That wouldn't work. They wouldn't respect him. He had to be Dagur the Deranged, the feared chief. So, he goes against his own beliefs when he turns good. He tries out the alternative he could have the first time...and he was right. They didn't respect him. As soon as he stops being evil and threatening to his people, they turn on him. Sure, not everyone does, but I also wish we got a better idea of how many were part of this coup. It's even the first time since turning good that we see him interact with the other Berserkers again. This would be devastating. You finally turn over a new leaf to become a good person and the people you've been trying to lead just throw you in a cell. What makes this hurt even more is how much Berserkers value loyalty. This is what Dagur was teaching Heather. It's why he was shocked that the Hunters deserted. Loyalty is important in that culture, but they blatantly disregarded this to betray him. Lastly, the icing on the pain cake is that he really does care about his Vikings. Even back when he was a mean kid, there were signs that he cared. I often think back to the Skrill ordeal. Alvin referred to the dragon as his. When Dagur corrected him, he said it was theirs (referring to his Berserkers too). Easily, Dagur could've just been thinking about himself, but he was still thinking about his group as a whole. So, even bad Dagur did care about them. Imagine how much of a blow that would be to get betrayed after he tried to openly treat them with kindness.

A bigger part of this to me is the fact that Dagur didn't just get put into a cell. With context, he'd spent 3 years locked up, broke his people out, then some or all of them might have just put him right back in. We really don't know the type of mental toll that took on him. Sure, it's pretty obvious that it messed him up, but that's why this scene to me matters so much. There's the emotional betrayal combined with the fact that he probably promised himself he'd never become a prisoner again. Unlike others who have tried, the Berserkers even use the smartest way to apprehend him. The Outcasts had him in the cell, relatively free, and the Hunters and Riders tied him up. Neither option worked, but the Berserkers use chains because they know him and are more aware of what he's capable of. Sadly, if anyone could have probably kept him in prison for the rest of his life, I think it's the Vikings who have been around him his entire life.

The last thing from the episode that I wanted to see was what happened to the traitors. We never find out what Savage's fate was. Did he get executed? Imprisoned? Could have been either, but it's never mentioned. I just feel like there's a lot of potential where Dagur's made a prisoner again, but it's by his own Vikings. So, one of these days, I'll make it into a fanfic.

[windriverdelta]

On the Grand Northern Conspiracy

Somehow I have been thinking a lot about the Grand Northern Conspiracy, an ASOIAF fan theory that posits that in AFFC/ADWD the lords of the North and Riverlands are plotting to install Jon Snow as King in the North. Well, no time like present to write a comment.

TL;DR I find it extremely implausible and would very surprised if TWOW featured anything even resembling that. It's a far-fetched conspiracy theory.

First of all, as other people like @turtle-paced have pointed out, there are lots of barriers to communication between the supposed conspirators and no evidence that they could coordinate their actions. Now, there is evidence in Arya's ASOS chapters that the Brotherhood Without Banners has contacts to the Riverlords and one wonders if Jaime Lannister in AFFC is being deliberately steered to Brienne, but that doesn't mean the Northerners can do the same.

Second, where is the set-up for the Northern lords using Stannis like that? Late Walder Frey is amply established as a traitor, opportunist and oathbreaker two books before the Red Wedding, there is no foreshadowing at all for Mormont, mountain clans etc. This isn't Game of Thrones, spectacular betrayals do not come out of thin air in ASOIAF. In this context, it's worth noting that foreshadowing in ASOIAF usually takes the form of a few unambiguous meaningful events, not a lot of very ambiguous little things that can interpreted in multiple ways like the infamous "Corn Code"

Three, Jon Snow does not work very well as a fulcrum for such a conspiracy. Ignoring for a moment that nobody has bothered getting his buy-in for such a plot (what if he deems it dishonourable and sleazy and ices out all the participants?), there is no indication that any physical copy of Robb's will survived the Red Wedding. Remember, the various lords and ladies are referred to as its "witnesses", and most of them are now prisoners of the Freys. Look at it from a character's perspective: Two lords who somehow survived the Red Wedding, claiming that Robb wanted to make Jon king. Why would anyone believe them? Especially Jon Snow, who knows in ADWD that Robb was killed by his own men, he has no reason at all to trust Maege or Galbart. And without the will, Jon Snow would just be an usurper and deserter from the Night's Watch.

Narrative-wise, I don't see much foreshadowing of Jon being king in the north in the main series - all so-called "foreshadowing" I've seen are ambiguous allusions or far-fetched interpretations. I see no thematic or character purpose, either - I tend to think that R+L=J, the three dragons and his assassination lead into him being a dragonrider and fighter against the Others. In my opinion, the political side of the Northern storyline is Sansa and Stannis' job. And there is plenty of potential conflict around them without the need for a king in the north scheme.

But the big sticking point is that the actions of many of the supposed conspirators don't fit with theory. Just to cite a few examples:

Lady Stoneheart is not crowning Jon with anything but a noose, not in a million years, there is no evidence whatsoever that she's anything but a revenge zombie.

Wyman Manderly is entrusting Rickon Stark to consummate Stannis loyalist Davos Seaworth, which makes no sense at all if he planned to betray Stannis later - why would he risk Rickon becoming Stannis' hostage?

We have no reason to believe that Barbrey Dustin is lying about not liking the Starks - for one thing, Dustin troops are noticeable by their absence for the War of Five Kings, true to her word. She'll probably jump ship if Roose falls, but that's not the same thing as becoming a Stark restorationist. In fact, I could see her supporting Stannis to take the Starks down a peg.

People keep citing Lyanna Mormont's defiant letter to Stannis as proof of Bear Island not being truly on his side, but not only is she (as Jon points out) not in charge of House Mormont, we later see Alysane marching with Stannis. She almost certainly is in contact with Maege given her comments to Asha about her family; I doubt that this is a right hand vs left hand situation. I am not even sure that she has much of a retinue, either - the problem with Rickon above may exist here too. Finally, recall that in AGOT Maege challenged Robb, telling him that he was so young as to have no business giving her commands. The Mormonts don't let anyone boss them around, that doesn't mean that they are Frey Lite.

In short, this theory requires lots of poorly foreshadowed OOC behaviour to enable a rather pointless political ploy that doesn't fit the narrative very well.

[talonabraxas]

Multidimensional Merkabah 💫 'Sirian' Light Body Talon Abraxas The Divinity Within

It is perhaps on this level, that we arrive at the very crux of defining what Merkabah is, and what it means. It quite literally is the chariot of God. It is a light vehicle that has allowed sages, prophets, ascended masters, enlightened beings, to reach out into higher levels and realms of consciousness and existence; to sort of access the Akashic records if you will; remember all of this is associated with Archangel Metatron, who is the chief, or better yet, chief angel, responsible for them, and documenting everything that is and ever was in existence. This is extremely pertinent in the context of what is being referred to as the great awakening, both on the spiritual and conscious level, seeing as to how one cannot ascend without activation of their Merkabah. The ascension is a rise into these higher realms of existence, a rise into the astral, spiritual planes, and those above them, so it would only make logical sense that the individual would need this new spirit and heart that was given to Ezekiel that allowed him to do so, more specifically that of activating the individual’s light codes and body, as well as that of the Merkabah in order that they too may ride the chariot of God, and connect or return to the source. That after all should be viewed as the ultimate goal of the spirit or the soul. To return to the source in response to all that God and Christ Consciousness can become.

And here we find the very quintessence of Merkabah Mysticism. It was a movement founded on the teachings of Ezekiel, which were revered by many as the most mystical part of the entire bible. Building off of what is taught, it set out for individuals to endeavor to receive their new spirit and their new heart, to activate their light bodies, and with it their Merkabah, and to ride the chariot of God, as the Prophet Ezekiel did. And here it should be noted that both the light body and the Merkabah with it, are both divine forces that are accessible everywhere. We make common misinterpretations that these things are only reserved for the very righteous, or the divine, the enlightened, or to a very select few, and that it is as if they were sort of hand-selected or preordained to on some holy level to do so. Here we see, that we have completely missed the message of these divine and enlightened individuals. Most if not all of them came in the form of simple ordinary men. Ezekiel manifested these divine things in shackles of exile. Buddha who was next in line to inherit the throne consciously chose to rather seek a life of spirituality, of suffering, and of martyrdom, if it meant enlightenment and finding a cure to the maladies and suffering of humankind. Even God’s very own son, to whom we think we cannot compare ourselves to, even though he stated that if you believe, you can perform miracles greater than my own, was presented to us in the form of a lowly carpenter who had nothing, and that was born in a manger alongside sheep and other animals. God does this for a reason, and it is to show us that the average person, the commoner, the prisoner, the meek, humble, and the lowly, all have and can be divine, and to seek that divinity within. It’s no wonder that the meek will inherit the earth. We don’t ever find God looking out at the heavens, or looking in the church, or anything else that is provided in the external or material world. No, what we find is that when we turn inward, into ourselves, and look for how to find peace, love, and happiness within, so that we have it no matter what life has to offer us, it is there that we find God is within all of us, within our hearts.

[the-lonelybarricade]

You Are Not Alone - (2/3)

Summary: Captured and held in the dungeons of Hybern's castle, Azriel receives help from the most unexecpted being—a priestess.

This takes place in the A Court of Faded Dreams universe after Chapter 50, though it could possibly function as a stand alone read. I think the context is relatively straight forward, but I definitely recommend reading the main storyline if it interests you!

Read on AO3 ✦ ACoFD Masterlist ✦ Previous Chapter

-

Azriel was going to murder Jurian.

Of course, he would need to make his way down the list of people he was planning to murder first, and that was currently a long, grotesquely detailed list. At the top was the King of Hybern, who stood smugly behind him, carelessly holding Azriel’s restraints like he was little more than leashed chattel to be sold to the highest bidder.

Which led him to the next person on his kill list—the High Lord perched on the dias above him, as well as the litter of red-headed sons standing on either side of the oak-hewn throne. They were grinning, a pack of hyenas prepared to close in for the final kill.

“A gesture of goodwill,” the King of Hybern said, shoving Azriel to his knees. “Yours to do what you wish. Kill him, sell him, trade him back to the Night Court.”

Beron leaned back in his seat, studying his prize carefully. Azriel’s arms and wings were bound tightly behind his back, and though the chains biting into his chest and shoulders were crafted of faesbane, Azriel still liked his chances of putting at least one of the Vanserras on their ass if they got too close. He curled his lips back into a snarl, wanting them to know that if they took him prisoner, he would do everything in his power to make containing him a miserable, tedious affair. Eris smirked, eager to play the very same game.

“The fae do not give gifts freely—particularly none as valuable as the Night Court’s Spymaster.” Beron tipped his chin with an authority that spoke to the centuries he had sat on that throne. Even an instinctual part of Azriel sensed the power thrumming from the High Lord and begged for him to yield.

He raged against it, baring his teeth at the Lord and his sons. Jurian kicked him in the ribs as retribution, and Azriel snarled. With his matted hair and blood stained clothes, he likely looked every inch the primitive beast the Illyrians were usually accused of being.

“As far as I am aware,” Beron continued, paying no attention to Azriel’s show of defiance, “all debts between us are paid. What is it you seek in return?”

The King of Hybern tipped his head back and laughed. The sound rattled through the chamber—as low and hollow as a wooden knocker slamming against a rotted door.

“Still so careful, after all these centuries. Have I not fostered good will between us?” Beron stared ahead at the King, unflinching in the face of so much power. The King shook his head, the way one might at an amusing, petulant child. “Very well, Beron. I wish to add additional reinforcements to the delegation from my Kingdom.”

Beron’s face was stern. “How many?”

“Three of my commanders,” The King said, then made a sweeping gesture towards Jurian. “And my human general. They’ll be overseen by my niece and nephew, who I’ve heard have been greatly enjoying your hospitality.”

To the right of Beron’s throne, there was a whisper of movement. A flicker of red hair, attracting Azriel’s attention as he watched Eris Vanserra quickly reach out and bunch the back of his younger brother’s tunic into his fist, restraining the furious male with that single gesture. It was so subtle that no one else seemed to notice.

“For what purpose?” Eris asked, calmly, drawing a flat look from his father.

“Their mission is to survey the land. Find the best place to stage our battleground. They’ll be making expeditions into Spring to examine the wall.”

Beron gave a slow, if not displeased, nod. “Very well.”

At that, Jurian delivered a sharp kick to the gap between Azriel’s wings. With his hands restrained behind his back, Azriel had nothing to slow the momentum as he fell miserably onto his stomach with a low grunt. The chains rattled through the throne room.

“Eris,” Beron called.

There was no other instruction. Brown polished shoes came into Azriel’s line of sight as Eris stepped forward—a leashed pet in his own right. Azriel was tempted to spit on the fine leather that stopped in front of his face. From the clamor above him and the way his bindings slackened for just a moment, Azriel imagined the Autumn heir was taking the chains from the King.

Then a sturdy hand tangled in his hair, gripping tightly to yank Azriel’s neck upwards, forcing him to peer into the burning amber eyes of Eris Vanserra.

“Welcome to the Autumn Court,” he crooned.

-

“I must admit, I was surprised to hear from you.”

Ianthe’s voice had a lovely cadence and an even lovelier inflection. Soft, lilting, so like the chitter of birdsong in the trees overhead. It was easy to see why she had fast become a voice of influence among the priestesses. And though Gwyn had only heard glowing praise about Ianthe, she couldn’t help feeling nervous to be walking beside the High Priestess. Likely because she was so well renowned, and so kind, and Gwyn had not been entirely honest in her correspondence.

“Many of our sisters are understandably cautious about being assigned to the Autumn Court with the current state of politics,” Ianthe continued, leading Gywn past a pair of bronze-armored sentries standing outside the solid oak doors that led into the Forest House. The personal residence of the High Lord of the Autumn Court.

“Of course,” Ianthe said, pushing the doors open with an unsettling amount of comfort, like she was more than a guest to the High Lord—like this was her home. “We have avowed to stay neutral to such affairs. Regardless, I understand that being in a court central to the conflicts can feel intimidating.” They stepped into a long corridor, their footsteps bouncing endlessly down the empty hall. “But it is precisely for that reason that the people of the Autumn Court need our help more than ever. As you well know, it is faith people turn to in times of crisis. They require our help, ordained by the Hands of the Goddess, to lead them out of despair and darkness.”

“I couldn’t agree more, sister,” Gwyn said, feeling only mildly guilty for the lie. She’d had to feign twice as much enthusiasm in Sangravah to get the transfer approved. Even more to Catrin, who strongly felt this plan was absurd. “My mother is from the Autumn Court and its people did not ask to be part of this conflict. I feel strongly that they could use our support, which is why I asked to be assigned under you.”

“It has been a long while since I had a pupil training under me,” Ianthe mused. There was a fondness in her voice that relaxed some of Gwyn’s nerves. Though it was an unexpected and sudden request, there was no reason for Ianthe to suspect Gwyn was there for anything other than enriching her studies as an acolyte.

“I hope you will find my guidance valuable.” Ianthe said, perfectly content to do the majority of the speaking. “And I’m sure there is plenty I will learn from you, in turn.”

Gwyn bowed her head respectively. “I will strive to learn all I can as your humble pupil.”

“I’ve been told you’re very well studied.” Ianthe’s full lips stretched into a smile. When she reached up to push the hood of her robe down, Gwyn was struck by how beautiful the High Priestess was. Sparkling teal eyes and bright golden hair that cascaded down to her slim waist. Charming and gorgeous and clever, it was all consistent with what Gwyn had been told to expect. She could not fathom why someone like Ianthe would choose to work so closely with a High Lord like Beron.

“I just enjoy reading,” Gwyn said, cheeks already growing warm from the praise.

“Research is a very valuable skill. I can already tell you are going to be a great asset.”

Together they turned down a short corridor where on the other end, Gwyn could see a spiral staircase carved from stone. They stopped just before it, at a wooden door which Ianthe opened to reveal a spacious bedroom.

“This is where you’ll be staying,” Ianthe said. “The temple is just up the staircase, so that you can come and go at your convenience.”

“That is very considerate,” Gwyn murmured, peering into the room. It was much nicer than the accommodation she shared with Catrin in Sangravah. Gwyn eyed the large bed with longing, trying to remind herself that she was here on a mission and that it would be foolish to indulge too readily in the luxuries of Beron’s Court.

“Why don’t you get yourself settled?” Ianthe offered her a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Once you’re ready, meet me in the temple for our afternoon service, then I will give you a tour of the Forest House.”

A tour. It would be the perfect opportunity to collect more information, to see what of the Autumn Court’s ties to Hybern would have encouraged the shadows to send her here.

Gwyn flashed the High Priestess her brightest smile. “That sounds perfect!”

-

“What a pleasure to have one of Rhysand’s dogs as our very own prisoner.”

Azriel had always known that Eris liked to hear himself speak, and he’d truly believed there was nothing that could make the male more insufferable than he already was. As it turned out, Eris’s snide voice was far worsened by the inability to punch him in the face. Regrettably, Azriel’s arms were still restrained behind his back, bound by the chain that wrapped around his neck, his legs, his wings. Two Vanserras hauled him forward by his shoulders on either side. If not for his injuries and the sedative Jurian had given him before they left the Hybern Castle, Azriel would have favored his chances of overpowering them.

Though Eris was capable of winnowing them to wherever Autumn kept its prisoners, he and his brother had decided to drag Azriel through the halls of the Forest House, flaunting their quarry to every courtier and servant that passed them by. It was a means of humiliation, but Azriel was taking full advantage of the rare opportunity to see inside the High Lord’s personal residence. He marked every corridor they turned down, his shadows already slinking away to search for every potential exit. Typical Autumn Court arrogance, betraying valuable intel for the sake of stroking their pride.

“I heard they couldn’t break you in Hybern,” Eris crooned at his back, closer than Azriel expected. “I wonder if a few nights under my care might be more persuasive.”

Azriel gave a low laugh. “From what I’ve heard, a night with you will only leave me disappointed and wanting—” He cut himself off with a low grunt as one of the Vanserra on his left threw his fist into Azriel’s gut.

“Illyrian filth always running their mouth,” he hissed.

“Easy,” Eris chided, unruffled by the insult. “There will be plenty of time for that once we’re downstairs.”

A shadow darted back to Azriel from around the corner. He felt its restlessness, but before it could provide its warning, the Vanserras turned him down the corridor.

Azriel was pinned instantly beneath two pairs of wide, teal-colored eyes. He tried not to stiffen in his shock, desperate not to let his captors know how much the sight of the younger priestess—who looked suddenly to the point of tears—had rattled him. She was wearing the same acolyte robes he had last seen her in, hood pushed back to reveal her rich coppery hair. She raised a freckled hand to cover her mouth, red brows bunched together in abject horror.

No, Azriel internally begged, wishing he had some way to communicate with the priestess that she needed to put her hand back down. You don’t know me. You don’t care about me. I am nameless, nothing.

Ianthe stood beside her, her fair expression arched with intrigue. He was unsurprised that the High Priestess was not grieved to see a prisoner of war, though it made a stark—and almost amusing—comparison to Gwyneth’s outright horror.

“Pardon us,” Ianthe said, pressing a hand to Gwyn’s shoulder to guide her firmly out of the way. “My pupil is young and has just transferred from the Sangravah temple. She’s never been exposed to the facets of war.”

One of the brothers holding Azriel by the shoulder took a breath and Azriel was preparing himself for whatever cutting remark he’d need to repay in blood later.

“Excuse us for the violence, priestesses,” Eris interrupted, with more earnesty than Azriel had anticipated. “We are just transferring a prisoner from Hybern. Continue as you were.”

With that, Azriel was led away. He didn’t dare glance over his shoulder to watch the Priestess as he went, though his mind stayed with her, wondering where she was going, what she was doing here, as he was dragged further and further into the depths of the Forest House.

-

“You’ll get used to seeing such things,” Ianthe said with a frown that made it difficult for Gwyn to subdue her rapid pulse. She knew she needed to calm herself down or it would become obvious that she was disturbed for more than just a passing stranger. “The Autumn Court is rather blatant with its brutality. Other courts observe the same cruelties and simply keep it better concealed. I find that in some aspects, the transparency is refreshing.”

Refreshing. Gwyn felt nauseated.

She stared after the stone staircase, where the Vanserra’s had vanished with a bruised and bloodied Azriel. So close to where she was lodging… she imagined it had to be a sign from the mother. An indication that she was on the right path.

“I am fine, just a bit rattled,” Gwyn assured the High Priestess, putting a hand to her chest. Her heartbeat thrummed beneath her fingers and she willed it to still. “As you can imagine, I’ve never witnessed such violence before.”

Ianthe touched her shoulder sympathetically. “It will be good to get some exposure, so that you can better understand the adversities that others face.”

“Yes,” Gwyn breathed, numbly. All she could see was Azriel’s wide hazel eyes. He always kept to the shadows in the Sangravah temple, so this was the first proper glimpse she’d had of his face, caked in blood and grime as it were. His eyes were so big, trying so desperately to communicate something with her.

Ianthe was staring at her expectantly.

She forced a smile. “As you say, it is helpful to know the hardships of others, so that we can guide them from a place of understanding.”

“Precisely.

The fingers on her shoulder tightened, then released. Ianthe stepped back, pulling her hood back over her hair.

“Get some rest, Gwyneth,” she instructed. “If you need anything, the servants will be happy to accommodate you.”

Gwyn nodded, bowing to her High Priestess before she slipped into her lodgings and shut the door. She held her breath, listening to Ianthe’s footsteps grow distant as she disappeared down the hall.

Then she cracked open the door, peeking through the slit to see if anyone was coming. It was utterly silent, no approaching footsteps and no one in her line of sight.

So with a great, fortifying breath, Gwyn darted towards the staircase.

-

“Ready to play, shadowsinger?”

This time, Azriel did spit on Eris’s polished boots. The satisfaction made the sting of the resulting kick to his jaw slightly more tolerable.

“Leave us,” Eris growled to his brothers. There were huffs of disappointment, but the Vanserra grunts did as they were told, scraping the metal door shut behind them.

The Autumn Court prison was as dark as the one in Hybern, but not nearly as cold. The stone floor felt more welcoming without the biting chill of the sea, a mercy Azriel did not expect to encounter. He raised his head to meet Eris’s cunning eyes. The Autumn Lord bore all the self-importance of a sadistic god, staring at Azriel laying at his feet. His nose scrunched in distaste, the way he might stare at a bug he was considering crushing beneath his boot.

Azriel curled his lips back into a snarl. “Give me your worst, Vanserra.”

“Cut the bullshit,” Eris said, crouching in front of Azriel so that they were eye level. The affronting male reached out to straighten Azriel’s torn collar, as though he were making the least bit of difference in the Illryian’s haggard appearance. “I’ve heard your High Lord’s little alliance has decided to help me take the throne, which makes us allies. Things are about to get very ugly in this court.”

Eris was exactly the kind of male who used the term allies loosely. He never helped anyone if it didn’t benefit him in turn, and Azriel expected that meant he would be the Autumn Court’s prisoner until Eris could make a deal with Rhysand.

“And your vicious pets?” Azriel asked, jerking his head in the direction the other Vanserras had disappeared. “I think they might notice I’m not being tortured.”

Fingers dug, hard, into his chin as Eris pushed Azriel’s face back up, forcing their eyes to meet again. “I’ll keep them out of your cage,” He said through gritted teeth. It was clear his hostility was just barely leashed by their alliance. “But I want a favor from your court in turn. To be redeemed at my leisure.”

Azriel jerked his face away, like he’d been burned by the Autumn male’s touch. “I don’t speak on behalf of my court,” he said, seething.

“Then I want a favor from you,” Eris crooned in a sweet, mocking sing-song.

Torture was preferable.

But Azriel thought of those glistening teal eyes, staring at him as if he meant something. He swallowed roughly past his pride. “Only on the condition that the priestess—the red haired one—stays safe. If anything happens to her while she’s in this court, the deal's off.”

Eris raised an angular brow, intrigued, but clearly not invested enough to pry any further. It was enough that Azriel cared about her safety. An exposed vulnerability, but at least for the moment their interests were aligned.

“Fine. The priestess will be under my protection.”

“Deal,” Azriel said bitterly.

The smirk the crossed Eris’s face was disconcerting. Azriel tried not to think too carefully about what manner of favor he’d be called in to complete. He could worry about that after he was free.

“Good,” Eris said. “Then I hope you enjoy your brief stay. Make yourself comfortable.”

-

Gwyn wasn’t certain how far down they had taken Azriel. She hadn’t realized, until she embarked, just how many levels there were in the Forest House. The staircase twisted downwards indefinitely, growing darker with every step.

It allowed Azriel’s shadows to slip through undetected. Gwyn had nearly shrieked when one jumped out at her four levels ago, tugging at her wrist when she’d been about to push open the corridor. Down, it had told her, and so she kept going. Pausing at every floor only for the shadow to tug her harder. Down.

Down, down, down.

Until she heard footsteps, and paused.

Voices, distant at first, then closer. Bouncing off the stone.

The shadows pulled at her, but Gwyn didn’t need their instruction to dart out of the stairway, slipping through a large oak door. She didn’t let it shut fully—too nervous the sound would alert whoever was coming, and because it allowed her to press her face to the small slit in the door frame.

A pair of red headed males passed by, grumbling about Eris hogging all the fun. They passed by without even glancing her direction, continuing their ascent up the unending staircase. She released a breath once they were gone, counting the seconds in her head. How long should she wait, until she was sure they wouldn’t hear her shut the door?

Glancing behind her shoulder, Gwyn could see that she was in a long, dust-covered hallway, with a single door on the other end. Portraits covered in white cloth decorated the wall and, curiously, Gwyn wandered towards one to lift the cover.

Long, flame red hair greeted her, followed by golden brown skin and bright russet eyes. A handsome male, undoubtedly a Vanserra, though there was something different about him that caused Gwyn to tilt her head to examine him closer. Lucien, she recalled. The exiled son of Autumn.

Well, at least she knew that no one would likely be frequenting this floor.

“What’s this?”

Gwyn shrieked, whirling to find Eris Vanserra standing in the entryway, the wooden door propped open beneath his palm.

“I—” Gwyn scrambled to think of an excuse, and when she came up short, she admitted, “I was curious what was under the portraits.”

He raised a brow. She could tell he didn’t believe her.

“And what are you doing so far from the temple?”

“I think he’s cute,” she blurted, face burning so hot that she hoped it was convincing.

That, at least, seemed to surprise him. But pleasantly. The way a fly surprised a spider when it tangled in his web.

“You think my exiled little brother is… cute?”

“Is this where his room used to be?” She asked, pointing down the hall.

Eris’s expression soured. “Stick to your temple, little priestess. I don’t want to find you down here again.”

There was a threat to those words that made Gwyn feel like she was choking. She bowed her head in shame, hurrying quickly out of the corridor as she mumbled, “Yes, s-Sir. Er, my Lord—Lord Eris.”

He snorted. She couldn’t decipher if it was a sound borne from humor or irritation. He didn’t move as she skulked back into the stairwell, forcing her to duck beneath his arm. Those amber eyes tracked her the whole time, watching her climb back up the stairs. Even once she was out of his line of sight, she didn’t dare turn around to see if he was following.

Azriel would have to wait.

[physalian]

Can I complain about modern fantasy book titles and covers for a second?

I don’t like these books anyway. Why doesn’t matter, they have their audience and I’m not part of it. But eight whole books, and I read seven of them (not Assassin’s Blade) a few years ago now, and I could not tell you in what order they should be read if someone handed me a blind pile, or even what cover belongs to each book because they’re so painfully generic (and missing numbers on their spines).

Nor could I tell by the titles which are also painfully generic. Yeah they read like fantasy titles but there’s nothing distinct about them, they’re just fantasy buzzwords and they’re so vague that even Tower of Dawn leaves me vaguely recalling that kingdom with the giant birds, I think? Heir of Fire might be the romantic side quest that lasts an entire book, but that’s based more on my memory of the order of events than the title or cover would suggest.

Blank of X and Y she used for ACOTAR (which I did not read and know nothing about so I skipped them) is just so boring to me if the Mad Lib is nothing special. “Heir of Fire” could be a Game of Thrones fanfic for how unique and evocative the title is. A Court of Thorns and Roses literally stole the cadence of A Song of Ice and Fire but guess what?? Those aren't just nonsense words. Ice and Fire and how they're related are hugely thematic and relavent elements in those books. "Thorns and Roses" just ripped off a Poison song.

I assume these were the original covers since they’re not so manicured and actually have character. The titles are the same but the colors are so much bolder and the imagery isn’t a greyscale girl for 7 out of 8 titles. They’re distinct and memorable and while they’re still not evocative of the actual story, if I was a bigger fan of the books I’d probably have stronger associations. They do try. I have fuzzy memories coming back of EOS having the cool pirate with the map hands, KOA being the climactic battle book, QOS... might be the boring side quest with the dragons. This does not look like assembly line popcorn fantasy. This looks like it has heart, and an air of mystery. They draw you in and have you asking questions, they have you wanting to know more.

These books are, in my opinion, superior in many ways to anything SJM has written, but the covers? The exact same problem on steroids. And I only read four of them, there’s six total apparently. King’s Cage is the best title of the bunch. I know immediately from the title “that’s the one where the protagonist spent the whole book as a political prisoner in, you know, the king’s cage”.

But the covers, though they all share the same aesthetic and would look pretty on the book shelf, are absolutely devoid of any and all context within the book, save King's Cage. They’re all feminine crowns and tiaras, too. They could have at least given a man’s crown or at least something with harsher angles and thicker lines to evoke, idk, maybe the titular character the third book is about? It helps that the series (at one point) was only four books so it was less titles and ambiguous covers to juggle, but now there’s six so I guess that’s out the window.

Pretty, but purely window dressing. The best thing they have going for them is how distinctly minimalist they are that sets them apart from other fantasy.

I have incredibly mixed feelings about these books but the colors. Very much carrying on the PJO tradition of titles that actually fit the books and art to go along with it. There’s so much drama and movement to each one and they are, once again, scenes from each book, so many little details to look at. Festus was a huge part of TLH, then Percy's back in action, front and center in SON, then... uh, MOA... then Percy and Annabeth looking scared shitless in HOH and then... uh, BOO. Exists.

They all draw you in and I very much remember the cover drop for House of Hades and losing my mind over it. Much more face-focused than the reserved originals, much bolder, but still, mostly, Percy Jackson.

I looked this up on google images and couldn’t even read the titles there tiny at the bottom. The exact same color scheme for every single book. This is for the box set, I know that, so the spines all make one image when you line them up, but the spine doesn’t have to be the same image as the front cover.

That said, the cover images are still distinct and still hold true to the originals—showing actual elements from the books, like Blackjack and Polyphemus and the Labyrinth. Updated but a bit too sleek for my tastes (maybe that’s just nostalgia talking). The titles though, love the titles. At least they kept the series number on the covers (unlike TOG or RQ).

Now this. This here. These have everything. Bold, distinct colors on the spines, beautiful unique and very fantastical art, art that actually pertains to the book it’s about with an air of mystery every single time. You want to ask why there’s a kid floating in Long Island Sound, who that giant eye belongs to, who has that pegasus so frightened, what’s in the golden coffin, and… well the last one is just noire and I like it.

The titles, though. The. Titles. “Sea of Monsters” cannot in any way match up with the plot of the rest of the series. These covers are perfection.

Now I did not read these books, just saw the movies. These covers are dated, but there still wonderfully, charmingly whimsical, for an entire series about wizards and witches. The colors are distinct, the font choices reflect the vibes of each book, the art depicts the stories within the pages—Harry joining the Quidditch team, Fawkes coming to the rescue, Buckbeak, the mermaid egg thing and the other competitors in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, the (I think?) prophecy room/Ministry of Magic, the Remembrall (I think??), and, you know, the last one is cool too. The style of the drawings are rather unique to Harry Potter. Harry also visibly ages across each one.

The titles themselves, like PJO (while predating PJO so setting the trend I’m aware) cannot be separated from their books. Order of the Phoenix? That’s the book about the Order of the Phoenix. Deathly Hallows is about, shocker, the Deathly Hallows.

Putting Twilight here at the bottom. I like these despite them being minimalist because, unlike every other cover on this list, they’re minimalist fantasy. Barely urban fantasy. The red and white motifs are evocative of the romance genre and vampire fiction and at least the covers of Twilight and Breaking Dawn do reference scenes in their books, with Edward catching the apple in the cafeteria and them playing chess on their honeymoon.

They also speak to a more adult, mature audience with the sleeker look. These are romance novels with vampires, *not* fantasy novels with romance. You see any of those covers among other adult romance in a bookstore and they’re going to catch your eye. The titles… eh. Not so much. Nothing to do with the story they just sounded pretty and evocative but this is romance, not fantasy, they’re supposed to be sensual and evocative and “Bella Swan and The Broody Vampire Boy” would not at all fit that vibe.

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It’s not like these modern fantasy novels are devoid of creative terminology. I don’t like SJM at all but her books did have some really creative and wonderful moments in isolation. It’s like the publishers were afraid to be authentic and sincerely fantastical, so they went with something safe and clean and uninspired both in title and in art.

“Throne of Glass” means nothing to me and could be applicable to like, four of the books in that series. If I squint I can see it as a metaphor for the fragile state of the ruling house but there is quite literally glass everywhere so maybe it’s just one cool element—that should have then been on the cover—but like, the whole book is about the Assassin’s trial, right? So call it The Assassin’s Trial or Tournament of Assassins. You know. The plot of the book, not just one random ass element in the background.

Be authentically fantastical, or don't write fantasy.

[murasaki-cha]

Oak is back on his simp agenda with another out of context quote from The Prisoner's Throne!!

Speak your truth king!

No seriously speak it, you guys seriously need to work on your communication