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eggtargaryenii · 25 days ago

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EAST OF THE SUN | PART I

You were a disgrace to House Targaryen, the product of an impulsive wedding between a lost prince and some Essosi whore. You had little social capital within the Red Keep and few prospects for marriage, but that was alright. You were perfectly happy to stay out of the game of thrones, wed some politically relevant lord of Alicent Hightower’s choosing, and die in peaceful obscurity. Unfortunately for you, Prince Aemond had other designs for your future.

5.8k words, aemond x fem!reader x jacaerys (though sadly, jace is not in this chapter). romance, childhood friends to lovers (except it's cousins), political drama. warnings for targaryen incest (between cousins), xenophobia/racism (depending on how you interpret the reader's racial coding), teenagers discussing sex, and a reference to underage sex in canon. the reader is half-valyrian and half-essosi, ethnically undefined. features are not described but she is considered conventionally attractive. dividers from @/cafekitsune.

I. THE HERMIT, REVERSED

You were a child when you learned that your mother was a whore.

Your father—a cousin to King Viserys—found your mother in one of the famed pillowhouses of Lys and brought her home as a souvenir. She was already heavy with you when they landed in Blackwater Bay, singing to you as your father cradled her belly every night. Though they had already been wedded in the Red Temple of Volantis, their union blessed by the light of R’hllor, it was your father’s wish that their love was also witnessed by the gods of Westeros. They were wedded once more in the Great Sept of Baelor, in a ceremony that was an affront to your grandsire, Prince Velarion. So wroth was he that everyone anticipated a terrible fate for your little family: the marriage annulled, your father forced into penance, and your mother killed.

But to the displeasure of Prince Velarion, one of the dragons chose you for a bond. (You were still in the womb when Wildfyre started clicking and squawking at you, and snarling at any man who came near your mother; he did not stop until you claimed him at ten-and-two, soaring upon his back through the skies of Myr.) The dragon keepers insisted that this was a sign that you were chosen by the gods of Old Valyria, so the lives of you and your mother were spared.

Still—your mother was eventually exiled, and your lord father wished to see her back to Lys. You had cried bitterly and begged to go with them, but your father said that the journey through the Stepstones would be too dangerous. He entrusted you to Viserys until his return, and then embarked on a journey that should not have taken more than one hundred days.

Ten years later, you still waited for him.

It was hard to recall when it was concluded that your father was unlikely to return; you only remembered that you did not accept it. The mornings and evenings of your early childhood were spent watching all the ships that passed through Blackwater Bay, waiting for red-and-black sails and a man you could now hardly remember. You only stopped once you flew through the skies of the Free Cities on dragonback, and not a single lost prince waved to you from among the crowds.

Your father’s disappearance left your position in jeopardy. The King could have easily taken control of his wealth and disinherited you if he so wished—as your grandsire was inclined—but His Grace instead decided that you should stay in the Red Keep and be treated like any other trueborn Targaryen. You were told as a child that this was an act of magnanimity, a gesture born out of love for his lost cousin, but you later came to realise that it was likely a self-serving move conjured up by Otto Hightower. Marriages were the easiest way to form political alliances; having an extra Targaryen lady to marry off was good leverage.

But despite your utility, you were still a stain within the Red Keep—a disgrace for the histories of the Targaryen dynasty. Nearly as great of one as Princess Saera herself, though perhaps still not quite as embarrassing as the three bastards sired by Lord Strong unto Princess Rhaenyra. Nevertheless, you were still a pariah. After all, children inherit the sins of their parents in the eyes of the Seven, meaning that your mother’s sin was also yours.

And so—when you were a child, you learned that if your mother was a foreign whore, then so too were you.

II. JUSTICE, REVERSED

Aemond was a child when he learned that people mistook you for a whore.

He learned this by listening to his queen mother, eavesdropping on a hushed conversation between her and his father. They were at a tourney, the crowd abuzz with chatter, which was perhaps why they were speaking so openly. The Queen stared at you as you sat next to Helaena, frowning at the closeness between the two of you. Being close in age, it was natural that the two of you spoke to each other frequently. You were a little older than all three of Alicent’s children and, as was common of a girl your age, you had prepared a favour: a ring of forget-me-nots interwoven with a ribbon you often wore. It was simple, but pretty, and it gave Aemond a feeling of deep distaste for some reason he couldn't identify.

His mother seemed to find it distasteful too. “Hard to believe she prepared a favour,” she said. She used the tone with which she often spoke of Princess Rhaenyra, the one that suggested derision. Aemond listened carefully, as he tended to whenever you came up in the conversation.

“And why would that be?” his lord father asked. He sounded defensive, also similar to the way he always did when his firstborn daughter came up. And as with Rhaenyra, Alicent seemed not to care for his sentimentality toward you.

“Well, what man would think to ask for it,” she asked, not delicately, “given her parentage?”

“Whatever you may think of her mother,” the King replied, “the girl is still a trueborn Targaryen. It is natural that she may catch the attention of some lordling or knight.”

“Surely not one with any faith, nor any serious ambitions in the court,” Alicent remarked. “Because she is—”

She paused then, hesitating. When Aemond snuck a glance at his father, he saw a stiff smile on his face.

“She is?” he questioned.

“...she resembles her mother more and more with each passing day,” Alicent remarked. “And one would think that she is similar. Foreign and improper in nature. A daughter of sin.”

Aemond’s brow furrowed. His mother spoke often of sin, of those who should beg for the grace of the Seven lest they be condemned to hell. She often reminded Aegon not to commit any such transgressions lest he disgrace the family, which he seemed to often do anyway. Aemond did not think you were particularly like his older brother, who stank constantly of wine and snuck off to Flea Bottom on every possible occasion. On the contrary, you were mostly well-behaved—except when you were quarrelling with Aegon—hardly ever indulged in any vices, and you only ever snuck out of your room to make miserable, wistful faces at the waters of Blackwater Bay.

And unlike Aegon, you were also kind.

Aemond did not know why exactly you had always been so nice to him; he just knew that you were unwaveringly so. Perhaps you felt a kind of kinship with him because he was frequently as miserable as you. For as long as the two of you had known each other, you had never once teased Aemond, and you in fact defended him. Just a few moons ago, you’d shouted at Aegon after the incident with the pig in the dragonpit, comforted Aemond after the fact, and encouraged him to claim Vhagar thereafter. To show up your ass of a brother, you’d suggested. And when Lucerys slashed his face open in the aftermath, you kept Aemond company for the entire duration of the recovery—watching them remove his ruined eye despite your disgust, keeping him company at his bedside when a fever took him, glowering at the Strong bastards whenever they came near him. Only his mother cared for him more deeply.

Aemond did not know what kind of sin such a kind person could have committed—what his queen mother should be referring to. So he turned to his brother and asked, “What does Mother mean by that?”

“Mean by what?” Aegon asked, eyes on the knights before the crowd. Clearly distracted.

“She called our cousin a daughter of sin. What does she mean?”

“Oh.” His brother glanced briefly at you, eyes considering. They travelled down your silhouette in a way that Aemond misliked for some reason he couldn't identify. “She means our cousin is a whore.”

“A whore?” Aemond asked, questioning. He’d heard the word many times, of course—sometimes uttered by his brother, and once lobbed at Princess Rhaenyra—and understood it as an insult. But no one had ever explained its specific meaning to him.

Aegon gave him an incredulous look. “You don't know what a whore is?” At Aemond's blank expression, Aegon explained, “It means she spreads her legs for money and is destined to go to hell. You know, like the women on the Street of Silk.” He paused, sizing up Aemond. “I should take you there someday, give you a proper education—then you’ll know exactly what mother means when she says ‘daughter of sin’.”

“I know what sex is,” Aemond replied defensively, though he didn't entirely know the details. “I'm not stupid.” He frowned then. “She doesn't work on the Street of Silk, though.”

“No, but her mother worked in a Lysene pillow house—much the same as the Street of Silk, though I hear the establishments of Lys are nicer, and filled with the most beautiful slaves from all over Essos.” Aegon looked at you again in a way that Aemond did not like. “I wonder if she inherited any of her mother’s talents. Maybe she’ll let me fuck her someday and I'll find out.”

Aemond felt a sense of disgust at the thought, even without fully knowing what his brother was imagining. All he knew was that he hated the thought of his brother putting his hands on you. “She wouldn't.”

“She would.”

“Would not.”

“Would too.”

“Would not! Who’d want to lay with you?”

Aegon scoffed. “Every woman from the Wall to Yi Ti, of course. Who wouldn't want to fuck a Targaryen prince?” He elbowed Aemond. “That includes you too, you know. Maybe if you pay her, she’ll let you have a turn as well. Then I wouldn't even need to take you to the Street of Silk to become a man.”

The feeling of disgust intensified. Not knowing what to do with it, Aemond kicked Aegon in the shin, making the young man yelp.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“For being an ass.”

“An ass? I'm giving you advice, man to man! Guiding you toward adulthood and a glorious night with our Lysene beauty of a cousin!”

“I don't want a glorious night with her.”

“Fine, then—I alone will enjoy her.”

Aemond kicked him again, and Aegon cursed. “Little shit!” he hissed, which—as Aemond had planned—earned him a violent shush and a glare from their mother. His brother gave him a dirty look for the manipulation.

“I don't know why you're getting all sensitive about this,” Aegon said. He squinted at Aemond then, discerning. “Say—is this jealousy? Insecurity? Are you worried that you aren’t man enough to bed her?”

Aemond glowered at him, which made Aegon laugh and clap his back.

“No need to worry if she rejects you, little brother. I know a number of skilled women on the Street of Silk, any one of them as good in bed as our cousin should be. After all, one whore’s as good as another.”

Aegon scowled. “Stop calling her that. She’s a lady of House Targaryen, not a whore.”

“Who says a lady can't be a whore? Just think of our Great-aunt Saera! I guess you wouldn’t know, but she ended up in a pleasure house, first in Flea Bottom, and now somewhere in Lys. And look at our half-sister—mother to three bastards. I'm sure our dear cousin will follow in their footsteps. It's in her blood.”

“She wouldn't do that,” Aemond replied sharply. “She's nothing like those two.”

How could you be? Princess Saera had been a vile person and Rhaenyra was a self-serving liar. Both Aegon and his mother had to be wrong about you—Aemond was sure of it. His mother treated you with such judgement, but he was certain you were undeserving of it.

He was sure of it too when his brother finally took him to the Street of Silk years later, and he bedded a woman for the first time. Sylvi was her name. She was indeed very skilled, and she was kind as well—stroking his hair afterwards and praising him for doing such a good job. It reminded him somewhat of his mother’s touch upon his head after Lucerys took out his eye, and the way you held his hand as his fever set in. But that was the end of any similarity between you and Sylvi; and in that respect, you were much more like his mother than this strange woman anyway. Aemond knew then that you were neither a whore nor a sinner. He couldn’t imagine you disgracing yourself like the girls who sold themselves at the brothel, let alone selling yourself to someone like his brother.

But his mother had been right about one thing: no one asked for your favour that day during the tourney. You’d sighed at the ring of flowers, looking a little forlorn, and tossed it later onto the floor of the godswood—an offering for the old gods, you'd said to the weirwood, because the new ones were shit. Aemond watched you from behind an ancient oak, waiting for you to leave. Once he was certain you were gone, he snatched your favour from the ground. He studied it carefully, eyes tracing the ribbon woven deftly between the flowers. He remembered that you wore it when you stayed by his bedside.

He untangled it from the ring of forget-me-nots, and he decided to take it back to his room.

III. THE MAGICIAN

Alicent Hightower was eager to marry you off.

The Small Council had spent the past several weeks discussing the prospects of your marriage. Without any parents to oversee your betrothal, the decision of your match laid entirely in the hands of King Viserys—which was to say, in the hands of Otto Hightower and his daughter. Alicent had very little love for you—no pious woman in her right mind would love a daughter of sin—but you were glad for her influence in some ways. Rhaenyra, before she left King’s Landing, relayed to you that Otto had brought up your future betrothal when you were as young as ten, but Alicent cautioned him against premature decisions. Let us not waste the opportunity given to us by her marriage, she always chided, but Rhaenyra had the sense that it had less to do with politics and more to do with wanting to spare you from the fate of a child bride.

But now you were a woman grown, and you were quickly becoming a nuisance for the Queen. She had been willing to tolerate your presence near her children when you were all young and she was charged with raising you, but she had recently begun imagining that you had corruptive influence over her sons. Aegon regularly talked of how much he'd love to bed you, which made her furious with him; and Aemond always insisted on having your company, which made her furious with you. Ever since your first blood, the Red Keep had regularly been plagued by rumours of your indiscretions with whichever knight or lord with whom you were most seen. Most recently, the most popular whisper was that Prince Aemond was your lover and you were secretly carrying his child. Why else would such an adroit and honourable young man regularly associate with the daughter of a whore?

Alicent had been apoplectic when she heard the rumours. They were, you supposed, believable. Her second son had always been strangely attached to you, nearly to the exclusion of all others. He didn't even treat his own sister with such affection—and he certainly held no such love for his brother—so a carnal relationship was a somewhat natural conclusion for an outsider. You, however, withered at the thought. Aemond may now be as comely as the Maiden herself, but you still saw him as the awkward little boy whom you grew up alongside and whom you constantly defended from his bullies.

Of course, his mother had no way of knowing any of this; she could only see the signs of a sordid affair between the two of you. That Alicent Hightower had raised you out of the goodness of her heart and you chose to return this favour by corrupting her son and engaging in the great sin of fornication was a huge upset. Not only did she chew you out in the throne room in front of King Viserys, utterly humiliating you—she also designed to send you to the Silent Sisters.

You could have easily ingratiated yourself to her with the correct penance. You could have distanced yourself from Aemond, as well as every other man in the Red Keep. You could have dedicated yourself to studying the Seven, immersing yourself in their grace. And most of all, you could have fervently denounced your mother and fervently renounced all sin. You could have made it clear that you were not a sinner, and especially not a harlot.

But you would lose respect for yourself if you did any of those things. You loved your mother too much to disavow her; you refused to practise a faith that would condemn her to hell simply for her profession; and most importantly, you did not want to distance yourself from Aemond. You had only three friends in this world, and that was only if you were allowed to include your dragon in the count. Your cousin Jacaerys got along well with you, but he'd long since left the capital, making Aemond your only companion in King’s Landing who was capable of human speech. (Wildfyre, though loyal, was not exactly a good conversationalist.)

All this to say, you simply did not want to let Aemond go.

In the end, you placated Alicent by making the somewhat extreme decision to invite her most trusted septa to inspect your maidenhead. When it was revealed that you were not, in fact, fucking Aemond, Alicent had no choice but to recant her allegations. Mollified, the Queen afterward extended an olive branch by meeting with you at least once a week. Repairing our relationship, she called it. By this she meant that she would spend an hour proselytising to you in an attempt to save your heathen Lysene soul, and then another hour discussing your marriage prospects. Better to be rid of you before her second son could actually be seduced by your sinful nature.

Right now you were both sitting in the garden, enjoying a pot of chrysanthemum tea in the sun. Alicent had just wrapped up an impromptu sermon about the Seven; now she was speaking to you about marriage. She kept talking about a Lord Stokeworth and a Lordling from House Tully. The former was nearly thirty years your senior and the younger was almost ten years your junior, but they were both willing to overlook the fact that people knew you as the daughter of a Lysene whore. It was more important to them that you were the blood of the dragon.

“Rivermen are especially difficult to make alliances with,” Alicent told you, “but they are bound by oaths and loyal to their kin. And I'm sure the lordling would treat you well. A marriage with a Tully would do well for all of us.”

“Rivermen are bound by oaths,” you said, “but they have already sworn loyalty toward us. They have never once expressed unrest during King Viserys’ reign, have they?”

Alicent stopped. She regarded you carefully, her fingers twitching—nails scraping against one another. She clearly wanted to use you to assure the loyalty of the Riverlands to the Hightowers, but you were unwilling to openly commit yourself to her cause. For the past several years, you'd been careful to wear neither black nor green, and this was perhaps both her greatest reason for not loving you and for not banishing you.

“That is true,” she said, “but Lord Tully has been sick a long while now, and his hold on his bannermen has loosened. Their allegiances are unclear. It would do well for the Crown to have more influence in the Riverlands, in case of any trouble during our succession.”

“I am still confused, my Queen. I do not think the Riverlands have ever been inclined to defy either their liege or the Iron Throne. They have all bent the knee to Princess Rhaenyra.” With this, you paralyzed the Queen: the only reason they would have to protest the Iron Throne was if it were ever usurped. She had just implied treason, and you would not let it go unnoticed.

You supposed it was a bold thing to point this out, but you really did not want to marry a ten year old. Ideally you'd wed a handsome lord with reasonable political standing, as far away from the Red Keep and the new gods as possible. The Riverlands were too close, and the Faith of the Seven was too strong there. On the other hand, Dorne, Winterfell, and the Iron Islands were incredibly far, and the peoples of the latter two followed entirely different faiths. Most importantly, the men of their respective noble families were quite handsome. You would happily live up to your reputation and debase yourself for Cregan Stark if the opportunity ever arose.

“If oaths were the problem,” you said delicately. “I'm sure the North could use attention. The Ironborn have always wanted for independence, and we have relied greatly on the Starks to suppress them. Or perhaps we could consider the problem of Dorne.”

“Dorne,” she repeated, her stare hard.

“King Viserys has always wanted to bring them into the kingdom, has he not?” She breathed deeply, and you added, “These are not suggestions, of course. Merely questions. I am eager to learn the wisdom of the only woman to sit on the Small Council.”

Let it not be said that you did not know how to play to people’s emotions. Alicent’s shoulders relaxed, and she took a sip of her tea. “These are good questions,” she admitted. “The problem of Dorne is too complex to manage with a simple marriage to House Targaryen, but the Greyjoy suggestion is intriguing. I might be inclined to caution the King against it, if he were to propose it. The Ironborn are a proud people. I do not think a marriage to a Targaryen lady would be enough to placate them, and a marriage to you specifically may present… a danger to the North.”

“You would worry about giving them a dragon.”

“Yes. But Winterfell…”

The Queen paused. You tried not to smile.

“Winterfell always honours their oaths,” you said, “but given what the realm asks of them, it never hurts to reward them for their loyalty. Who knows what may happen in the future?” Who knows what may happen if Prince Aegon were to ascend the Throne? “If a struggle were ever to happen at the Wall, I am sure Lord Stark and his bannermen would remember which queen sent him a Targaryen wife and a dragon in support of their struggle.”

Alicent nodded. She looked at you as if seeing you in a new light—a better one.

“I will speak to the Hand about this matter,” she determined. “I shall get his thoughts before the tourney in a fortnight, and see which families we should introduce you to then.”

“I shall prepare myself for it.”

“Good.” She smiled at you. “See to it that you are dressed well for the occasion. I feel that green would be a lovely colour on you—don’t you?”

IV. DEATH, REVERSED

“Hello, father of my bastard child!”

Your voice rang through the dragonpit, a cheerful echo in its near pitch-black depths. By the light of the torches, Aemond could barely make out your silhouette, but he could hear the lightness of your footsteps nevertheless.

For someone who had been the subject of vile accusations for the past month, you seemed awfully happy. You weren't always so thick-skinned, Aemond mused: when you were younger, he often caught you brooding in the dragonpit, sniffling at the way women talked about you and the way men leered at you. Any other child—himself included—would have been terrified to stay here, alone in darkness and brimstone, but your only friend for a long time was your dragon, so naturally his home was where you went when you were miserable. And you were very often miserable.

But you were now well-adjusted in your adulthood, apparently impervious to most insults and whispers about you. (What are they going to do? you often said dryly. Call me a tart? A temptress? That I belong in Flea Bottom? They’ve been saying that for years!) You had just taken the past month of scandal in stride, and now you seemed irreverent of it. It made Aemond tense: although he did not terribly mind that people mistook you for his lover, he still had appearances to manage. And he disliked it when people spoke ill of you. Ever since he had built a reputation as a respected prince, he made it clear that no one was to speak poorly of you before him. The only exception was his idiot brother, with whom he was meant to maintain the appearance of unity. The other day, he caught him monologuing about the ways in which he imagined Aemond was debasing you (“I hardly knew my brother had it in him! It surely had to be my cousin’s work—seducing the fierce Aemond One-Eye!”), and Aemond could scarcely hold himself back from maiming him. Still, his sword stayed within its sheath, his knuckles white and tense around its hilt.

He could not solve the issue of his brother with intimidation. Aemond could only caution you against fueling him: “If you keep talking like that, the whole of the Red Keep will start whispering about you again.”

You laughed. “Who’s going to overhear us? Will Vhagar be gossiping with Dreamfyre about our scandalous relationship?” You craned your neck, looking behind him. “Where is your old lady, anyhow? Can I give her a treat today?”

“Vhagar awaits us outside. You are always welcome to feed her, but the dragon keepers said there is a scarcity of lamb at the moment.”

“Ah, well. Let’s go find Wildfyre, then—I called for him earlier, but he didn't come. I bet he’s napping somewhere.” The two of you began walking, cutting a path through ash and crumbling bone. Aemond guided you around what looked like the fresh remains of cattle, and you thanked him, wrinkling your nose at the familiar stench of charcoal and rotting flesh.

“What you said about the lamb,” you started, “concerns me. Are the smallfolk short of livestock?”

“I have heard from the Hand that there is a sickness among the animals of the Reach, so the yield has been worse this year than most others.”

“How sad! I hope they’ll be alright.”

“The dragons are well-fed—the Hand has assured it.”

You gave Aemond a curious look. “I was speaking of the smallfolk, not the dragons.”

Aemond paused. “Of course,” he said, “the Hand will also ensure their well-being. I did not even think to question that.”

Truthfully, Aemond had not thought of the smallfolk at all, but he should have. Whenever he or Aegon spoke of the issues of the Realm, they were always your first concern—the farmers and the craftsmen and even the whores of Flea Bottom. Aegon said it was evidence of your commoner blood, but Aemond thought it was discerning of you. Were you born his eldest sister and not his eldest cousin, it would be evidence of your good judgement as a future ruler.

Though of course, if you had been his eldest sister, then you would have been wedded to Aegon—a thought that Aemond found exceptionally distasteful. In fact, the thought of any man touching you made his knuckles tighten around his sword, yet it was a reality that his mother had told him to make peace with many times.

Aemond, she told him the other day, looking at his tightly controlled expression, I know you have a great… fondness of your cousin. But the two of you are no longer children. It is improper for you to spend so much time around her. You would not want to compromise any future prospects for yourself, nor disgrace yourself in the eyes of the Seven. And god forbid you ruin her prospects. Your grandfather and I have been working hard to secure a good match for her—a difficult feat, given her parentage.

Unfortunately for Alicent, Aemond felt that the Seven could fuck themselves. And his prospects had always been lacking as the second son, but he would eventually overcome the circumstance of his birth. Aemond considered himself a loyal son, but he would not succumb to whatever mediocre designs his mother had for his future.

He would make sure that you would not, either.

“You seem happy,” he observed. “I take it your afternoon with Alicent went well?”

“Very well. I avoided a marriage to that Tully boy, and I think I may have even charmed your mother.” You flashed him a smile—one he'd been seeing since childhood, but of which he never tired. “She is now considering potential matches in the North for me. I'll likely be meeting potential suitors in the upcoming banquet—I do hope they’ll be handsome. And wealthy.”

Aemond did not bother trying to smile. “The North is very far.” He slipped into Valyrian: “You belong in the South, near skies filled with dragons and the waters of the old Freehold. You are a Targaryen, are you not?”

“I may be a Targaryen, but I am unwanted here,” you dismissed. Even after all these years, you spoke Valyrian with a Lysene accent, and—as often happened in private speech—you reverted to a vocabulary that was closer to the Low Valyrian of your mother rather than the High Valyrian taught by the maesters. Still, you were the only person in the whole of the capital more fluent in the language than Aemond; he only spoke as well as he did because he’d grown up practising with you. “The further I get away from the Red Keep, the less hated I will be.”

“But you will be alone.”

“I will have Wildfyre, my lord husband, and an entire castle of people to make friends with.”

“Or enemies of.”

“If I can charm Alicent Hightower, I do believe I can also charm anyone else in the Realm.” You grinned at him—though Aemond did not miss the careful look you gave him. “But if you're worried about being lonely, I can always fly back on Wildfyre and visit you.”

“You need not be concerned. I have many allies within the Red Keep.”

You stopped then, openly studying him. “It is—difficult,” you replied in the Common Tongue, “for me not to worry about you.”

His brow arched. Aemond could not help but stare, puzzled: you watched him enough on the training grounds to know that not only could he easily kill most men, but also that most men feared him for it.

“There are few people in this world who would worry about me,” he said neatly, and your look grew embarrassed.

“Yes, I know it’s silly of me. Why would I worry about the famed Aemond One-Eye, Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, Rider of Vhagar, and winner of countless tourneys?”

“Two. I've won two tourneys.”

“Well, that’s more tourneys than most will win in their lifetime. And I’m sure you'll win the one in the fortnight as well.”

Aemond did not see the point in denying it. “Perhaps. What of it?”

You breathed deeply, and Aemond could see on your face how much you were trying to be diplomatic. “What I mean to say is—you are a respected warrior with many allies. But an ally is not the same thing as a friend, and a sword cannot offer its wielder any reprieve. Sometimes I fear whom you will rely on if I leave.”

“You think I have no friends,” he said plainly, and you gave him a sheepish look. He did not smile.

“I’m just worried you don't have anyone you can actually trust here,” you explained.

Aemond would spurn the words coming from anyone else. He might even be inclined to intimidate them, simply to remind them of his position. A prince should not be so patronised.

But looking at you, with your worried eyes and furrowed brow, he thought of the two weeks you spent by his bedside as healed, and all those times you checked on him after chasing away Aegon, and how you took him dragon riding until he was as comfortable at it as you. You likely still saw the weak child he once was—a habit he could not fault you for, but which aggrieved him nevertheless.

He did not let his irritation show on his face.

“You need not worry, cousin. I do not need trust from anyone—only respect.” And respect was something he had in spades.

You gave him a dubious look, but relented. “Alright. Just know that you can always write to me, no matter how far away I am.”

Aemond hummed. He'd nearly forgotten your initial concern: the looming distance from him, the gap and loneliness that your marriage would supposedly create.

His mouth curled.

“I appreciate it, but I have the sense that you’ll end up closer to home than you think.”

“Oh? What do you mean?” Your brow knotted. “Has your mother said something to you?”

“Nothing concrete,” he replied smoothly. “But nevermind—let us fetch Wildfyre. We should fly out before the day grows any older.”

The thought of flying distracted you from all others. “Yes, it would be troublesome if we stayed out too long.”

“Where would you like to go?”

You grinned. “I'll race you to Spicetown? We can go to the market and be back by midnight.”

“Midnight?” Aemond sounded—was—amused. What a free-spirited thing you were, to be careless enough to return to the Red Keep with him after curfew. “This is why those rumours started in the first place, you know.”

“It was worth the trouble, don’t you think? Or are you going to deny me now?”

He could not. Aemond was a disciplined man—his goals could not allow for much error in his life—but he also found it impossible not to humour any request from you. He did not have many joys in his childhood, and he had never outgrown his habit of wishing for the joy you brought with your happiness. It was hard for him not to indulge you.

In fact, this wish you had for your future—to marry some trifling lord beneath you and move far away from King’s Landing, the place in which you belonged—would be the first thing he would ever deny you.

END PART I

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed this, please do reblog and let me know what you think - I would mega appreciate it <3

#aemond targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #egg.fics #it is very quiet on ao3 so im testing on waters on tumblr dot com now...

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andythecorsair · 4 months ago

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On the Accusations about Neil Gaiman

I've been spending more time than I would like about it, so rather than writing a whole new thing, I'm going to paste some advice and general thoughts I posted on Reddit over here. Take with as much salt as you feel is appropriate.

The knee-jerk reaction is to label everyone as either a hero or a villain. Everyone is stuck in this binary way of thinking that is truly exhausting. Try to shed it and think of people complexly, and it'll allow you to continue enjoying your life. By denying yourself something joyful, you're not moving the needle at all for literally anyone but yourself.

Putting aside for a moment any potential biases of the podcast and the people amplifying it, Gaiman himself has admitted to some creepy, toxic-ass behaviour. He was older and in a position of power. Folks will jump from that to someone being a bad person and not wanting to engage with their work any more although those self-same people will continue to spend an awful lot of time discussing that person online, as we've seen this week. I think it's also true to say that he had his own mental health struggles, that the consent in these situations was grey, and that there's an awful lot to what happened that we don't and will never know.

As to my point about 'cancelling' Gaiman, I used to be much more hardline about that kind of thing. These days, I've mellowed; partly with the knowledge that boycotts rarely work, and partly because famous artists are somehow held to a higher standard these days than politicians and certainly more than your average person.

I also think there's a spectrum of reaction from uncritical adoration to wroth-fuelled cancelation. Personally, I'll keep consuming and loving Gaiman's work, because it's still fantastic art that has a lot to love. While I'm consuming it, I'm sure I'll wince and read differently depictions of younger women and relationships with power differentials. How I consume and interpret the art has absolutely change. But I'm leaving my pitchfork on the farm. You might well make a different choice, and that's fine.

Personally, I'll neither join the moral crusade nor mount a particularly strong ethical defense.

#neil gaiman #good omens #me too #cancel culture

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twipsai · 2 months ago

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ive been wanting to do something like this for a while, so here we go

Silver's straightforward attitude and anxieties: a poorly formatted analysis

Silver's anxiety is something i havent seen talked about a lot, and im really just barely going beneath the surface here -- i hope i did it justice in anyway sfdkSKHJFDSKFH i think about his obvious anxiety disorder a lot

transcript of all the text i added under the cut incase its hard to read for some ppl ^_^

image 1 (source: IDW #8): "isnt really used to banter, got worried he actually offended Sonic"

"he worries a lot about not being useful, because thats pretty much his entire purpose in life. if hes not doing something, he will find something to do (badly) or panic. he gets nervous at the slightest insinuation that he mightve messed up because the last thing he ever wants to do is get in anyones way."

"for how powerful he is and how much shit he talks, Silver doesnt really think very good about himself or his own worth."

image 2 (source: Sonic Universe #82): "its hard to say anything here that i havent already said, its just another example os Silver having issues with his self wroth, and also a lot of his motivation coming from protecting the people he loves (and, more generally, protecting the world), considering a page after this he gets up and completely wrecks the Second Devourer"

image 3 (source: IDW #8): "Silver will take pretty much anything literally. he lacks the social skills to identify when someones being serious bc he grew up completely alone"

image 4 (source: IDW #14): "he cant lie (is both bad at it, and it really just doesnt cross his mind to do so), but he can change the subject"

"he also really doesnt like it when people are worried about him -- almost every time people show concern for him, he tries (and fails) to lie or change the subject"

image 5 (source: IDW #14): "he didnt see anything suspicious about [Starline giving the "vault code"] because he doesnt usually assume people lie directly to him, its just not something that usually crosses his mind"

image 6 (source: IDW #60, TSR interview): "Silver's rudeness, his naivete, misunderstanding of jokes/quips/banter, inability to lie, it all stems from his straightforwardness. its simple, but but oftentimes effective (yes i chose a bad page to showcase when it works, ignore that)"

"Silver doesnt like to beat around the bush or show off too often. go in, defeat the bad guys, get out. it ties in with his anxiety of the future -- time is always of the essence"

"Q: What are some of your favorite items to use during the race?

Silver: [...]but the Jade Wisps' "Ghost" is the only one I like. I can disappear and focus on the race."

"it does make him forget to stratagize and cooperate with his friends sometimes, though, when his first instinct is "hit it until it stops moving""

image 7 (source: Sonic Rivals 2): "im not really going over his bluntness in this, but literally the entirety of Rivals 2 covers that. he doesnt think to hide what hes doing because he knows hes in the right, so he just expects everyone else to know that. he expects people to believe him just because hes telling the truth. he doesnt see why he would have a reason to lie, so he never thinks to justify his actions."

"a lot of this bluntness is also shown in IDW #64 -- Silver cant be stealthy and observe someone from afar to save his life when he knows hes right about them. he really takes no time to explain that Duo is Mimic before Whisper steps in and attacks Mimic, even though if he took the time to talk through what happened, he probably couldve convinced Lanolin of Duo's true nature"

image 8 (source: IDW annual 2022): "Silver has pretty much zero idea how to navigate the world outside of helping other people and saving the world. he is almost constantly in "survival mode" and doesnt know how to handle low-stakes"

"(he sometimes takes casual conversation too seriously because of this)"

"he is constantly worried about the future. to an almost unhealthy degree sometimes, its often all he thinks about. when he knows exactly what to do, he comes off as confident and powerful, but when he doesnt know what to do..."

"...he completely spirals. to him, an uncertain future is worse than a doomed one. not knowing how to fix things is one of the most terrifying thoughts to him."

"if Espio hadn't been here to calm him down, i think its super likely he'd have had an anxiety attack."

image 9 (source: Sonic Generations, IDW #64, Team Sonic Racing, Sonic Universe #79): "like, i truly cannot emphasize enough how he cannot relax. anything can be a threat, and if he doesnt see an immediate one, he will find something that is one. "

"he can rarely calm down, because every second hes in the past is another second he should be saving the future"

"i cant properly showcase it here, but if you run past him in Gens, he'll immediately be on-guard."

"he has to always be looking for the next world-destroying foe, it's pretty much his default setting."

"there are tons more examples of his overt anxiety, but these are some of the more prominant examples."

image 9 (source: Archie Sonic #235): "we even see in the traitor arc in archie how Silver is constantly paranoid. the idea never crosses his mind that there is no traitor, because something is always wrong. hes like a machine built to find a problem with no off switch"

"almost anything can set him off and make him untrusting of anyone, because thats the only way he knows how to live. anything can be a threat in his eyes, and when there is no threat, he will either find one or panic that he cant find one."

"because when you spend your entire life fighting,"

"how else are you supposed to live?"

#sonic analysis #silver the hedgehog #silver the hedgehog analysis

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tj-dragonblade · 4 months ago

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[FIC] Until We Meet Again

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Rated: G Word Count: 2677 Tags: pre-relationship, introspection, mild angst, Dream of the Endless has low self esteem, most of this is just Dream talking circles in his head, happy ending, brief appearance by Lucienne, brief appearance by Matthew

Notes: For my @dreamlingbingo card, square A1 'Trapped in the Frequency', which begged creative interpretation given the centennial frequency of their meetings

Summary: Dream frets over whether or not he could (or should) permit himself to visit Hob more often

On AO3

Dream of the Endless has fumbled a possibility.

It is tormenting him ceaselessly now that it has passed.

"A hundred years, then?" Hob had asked, as their evening at The New Inn had drawn to a close. "Or perhaps we adhere to our original schedule, and meet again in '89?"

Dream, who had been debating internally the past hour as to whether he could alter the story he'd set for them by offering to meet with greater frequency, had faltered. Would Hob even want to meet more often? Perhaps once a century was enough for Hob to partake of his company, to set aside time from his joyously-lived life to entertain Dream's less-than-joyous presence.

To. Tolerate him, for the sake of the story between them, the friendship he so easily proclaimed to Dream as he did to all and sundry. Perhaps more frequent meetings would be an imposition that Hob would not appreciate; Hob had only offered a hundred years or continuing to meet in '89, after all. No matter his own wishes, Dream had stumbled in the moment; he had doubted, and second-guessed, and not spoken of his own thoughts. He ought not to ask for more, he had known, but the idea of waiting another hundred years to see his friend again had also been. Painful.

"Let us keep to our original schedule, and meet again in 2089," he had decided, and Hob had smiled in answer.

"Until 2089, then." His tone had been warm and easy, but there had been tightness around his eyes and a waver in his voice that now, later, makes Dream wonder. Was Hob disappointed by the answer? Had he wished to meet with greater frequency, now that 'friend' was an accepted status between them? But he had said nothing of convening more often; was he perhaps displeased by the nearer date? Ought Dream to have kept to the hundred-year interval and shifted their story to accommodate an altered year?

No. No, he decides, gripping the stone rail of his balcony, staring out over the grey cloud cover shrouding his realm. He and Hob Gadling meet in the White Horse every hundred years, the seventh of June in the year '89. The story has suffered a derailment in Dream's thirty-three year tardiness and the closing of the White Horse during the interim; Dream will put them back on track by meeting again in 2089, even if the location must shift.

That is how their story goes.

Dream will not change it further, no matter his own wants.

~ Dream cannot stop thinking about changing it.

His delayed meeting with Hob Gadling had been an unexpected boon of peace and welcome. In the aftermath of retrieving his tools, in the midst of repairing the realm and trying to regather his subjects, his sister's reminder of the missed appointment had filled him with a certain trepidation. He had parted from Hob abruptly and unpleasantly when last they met. Hob had issued a challenge, to Dream's retreating back in the rain, and through no choice of his own Dream had been unable to meet with him as next scheduled and admit the truth of Hob's accusation. To Hob, it must appear that he had still been wroth, had refused his challenge and stayed away out of spite. He'd had little reason to believe Hob would still wish to see him, little reason to believe Hob would be found at the White Horse these decades later; every reason to dread finding him, every reason to fear that he never would.

But he had steeled himself for unpleasantness and disappointment and set out, and finding the White Horse shut down in disrepair had hurt in ways he was not prepared to articulate. A connection lost, a tie severed, another relationship ruined by his own hand. Except there had been wisps of dreams clinging to the fence about the old pub, steeped in red paint and the passing of years, dreams of hope and stubborn patience and second chances. Dream had followed the arrow they directed him to, hope buoyed slightly despite himself, and had found the New Inn where Hob, indeed, was waiting for him more than three decades past the appointed time.

And Hob had greeted him with a smile, had beamed even brighter to be called 'friend' by Dream, had set aside his work and given Dream his time. To be met with such warmth and welcome was more than Dream had expected, more than he deserved, but he had been. Grateful, all the same.

Never before had he taken such pleasure in one of their meetings, never before had he realized how much he truly enjoyed them, how much he. Enjoyed, Hob's company. He had lingered, listening to Hob's stories, longer and longer, Hob indulging him far past the afternoon and evening, well into the night.

He had been reluctant to call their reunion to a close, to relinquish the warmth and peace that had settled into him over the course of it.

He longs, now, to experience it again.

~ His missing arcana and the existence of a dream vortex and the damage to his realm, they wear on him. He is stymied in his function, faced with questions and reminders of his absence at every turn, authority slipping through his fingers unexpectedly and leaving him off-balance, overly-harsh in his insistence that he knows what is best. When he discovers a ghost living in his realm and a child conceived of its presence, he is tired. The emotions that rise in the aftermath of evicting Lyta Hall and her dead husband, of Rose denouncing him, they leave him aching for some unspoken solace, and it is Hob and his welcoming smile that rise in his memory again.

But that is not their story, to seek comfort in one another's presence during hardship, and he has other matters still to attend to. He owes an apology to Lucienne; he has been intractable and unkind in his dealings with her, undeservedly. She is gracious in accepting, and brings with her good news in the form of Fiddler's Green returned, and then he is left with one more wayward nightmare to deal with and a vortex whom he must kill.

He is grateful, that it does not come to that; grateful that Lucienne and Unity Kincaid bring him an alternative solution at the very last moment. Their solution brings answers that enrage him, that wound deep to the core of him, and once more, he finds himself wishing, when all is said and done and his sibling has been warned, to sit with his friend and share his tribulations.

It is an absurd wish, for again—that is not their story. Why does he yearn so strongly for a thing they have never had?

Hob would. Commiserate, in his displeasure, he is somehow certain.

But it is not yet 2089.

~ He yearns, inexplicably, to tell Hob the full truth of his last hundred years. He had not given it when last they met; it had still felt shameful, humiliating, an illustration of his failure in his duty and his function. Yet now, somehow, the thought of telling Hob…it appeals, to unburden himself of the story, to borrow the sturdy strength of Hob's shoulders to halve the weight of it from his own.

That is never how their meetings have gone. Hob regales him with tales of his century and Dream listens. He has volunteered so little each time, content to collect Hob's stories and confirm his wish to continue.

That is their story. What right has he to ask that it change?

"Stories are not static, my lord," Lucienne reminds him gently, when he confides to her the outline of his dilemma. "A story is different to every listener who hears it, to every reader who reads it; a story grows or changes or turns inside out with every retelling. A story need not be exempt from these truths simply because it is yours."

Lucienne, as she so often is, as he has seen more and more clearly since his return, is correct.

He had seen fit after all to change Gault's story, quite recently.

Perhaps, should Hob be amenable, their story might change as well.

~ Surely Hob, who had named him 'friend' long ago, who had seen his loneliness and dared to comment upon it, surely Hob would not be opposed to seeing him outside the established schedule of their meetings? Hob had been glad of his visit, when so few would take pleasure in his company. Surely Hob would be glad again, if he should seek him out before the appointed time?

But perhaps Hob was only pleased with his company because it was so infrequent. Perhaps greater familiarity would inevitably breed contempt; meeting more often would provide more and more opportunity for Hob to discover and observe all of Dream's many flaws and shortcomings, to find him lacking, to cool the warmth of his friendship into indifference and finally dislike.

And Dream. Would not lose, what he has only just gained.

~ Hob had still been waiting three decades past the appointed time, when Dream had come late to their meeting. Hob had fought to keep the White Horse open, had acquired and maintained the New Inn when that failed, had ensured signage that Dream might find his way. Hob had made an effort.

Hob had deemed Dream worth the effort.

Hob, who does not know any of his names, nor who he is.

Hob, who loves life, who loves living it, however he chooses. Would he choose to meet more often, to spend more hours of his precious life in Dream's company, if he knew it to be a possibility?

"I mean. You could just ask him?" Matthew suggests, as though it is the obvious choice. He hops a little sidestep on the rail of Dream's balcony, fluffs his feathers, settles them again. "Look. Boss. The guy waited thirty years and he was happy to see you, right?"

"Yes," Dream agrees, glancing sideways at his raven, weary of the grey landscape spreading before him.

The clouds have not lifted in weeks.

"So what's the harm in stopping by to see him off-schedule, find out if he'd like to meet up more often too? My gut says he would."

"Your gut?" Dream lifts an eyebrow, does not hide how the corner of his mouth quirks up in turn.

"Yeah." Matthew ruffles his feathers again, gives a little caw that would have been a cough, were he still human. "Usually steers me right, and I think that, uh. I think it'll steer you right, too."

"Thank you, Matthew." Dream turns his gaze back to the gloom-shrouded sweep of his realm, pondering.

~ Matthew's advice is sound. Lucienne's advice is sound. Dream knows this. He hesitates still, unwilling to voice the concern at his core to either of them. Is Hob's pleasure in his company solely due to its infrequence? Will Hob, who had dared to name him friend before Dream had been ready to admit it, grow tired of Dream's foibles and failings if given the chance? As so many others have?

There is only one way to find out.

~ "My friend!"

The brilliance of Hob's beaming smile washes over Dream, a deluge of warmth, and he can feel the sun breaking through the clouds back in the Dreaming.

"Hello, Hob."

The yearning at the very core of him for the peace and warmth he had known in Hob's company has at last eclipsed the uncertainties he still holds. Perhaps Hob will tire of his company in the future. Perhaps he will not. In the meantime, perhaps Dream might have another taste of that which he craves.

"I did not expect to see you again so soon! Is everything alright? Are you alright?"

The way that concern—concern. On his behalf—blossoms in Hob's face, his voice, has Dream hastening to assure him.

"All is well, Hob Gadling. Only. I am given to understand that friends may meet more often than we have been accustomed to."

Hob's face blooms in a slow journey from surprise to delight, his eyes wide and shining, joy in their depths. "True enough, true enough." His grin is a helpless thing, automatic, a pleasant softness underpinning its brightness. "My friend."

He clearly takes great pleasure in saying it, in being permitted the claim.

Dream is assured of his welcome at this point and avails himself of the seat across from Hob, settling comfortably. He is considering how best to broach his topic, but Hob is already speaking.

"I'm glad you dropped by," he says, his smile reined in but sincere, eyes warm and earnest. He had been marking papers again—a habit to do so here in the pub, he had told Dream last time—and sets them aside, giving Dream his full attention. "You're welcome any time, I hope you know. Friends definitely get together more than once a century, if they want." His hand has strayed to his ear, toying with it absently. "So, uh. If you want. I'd be delighted to see you more often."

How easily Hob gives him the answers he seeks; he need not even pose the question. He is pleased, relieved, happy in the affirmation he has received, and offers up his own decorous smile. "I would be. Agreeable, yes."

He is graced yet again with the bright warmth of Hob's smile. "Wonderful!"

It is, indeed, wonderful. He had spent so long debating over whether to allow himself this…indulgence, whether Hob would want this; it would be easy now in hindsight to berate himself for wasting the time but here in this airy corner of the pub, in this space he already thinks of as theirs, the self-recrimination is not quite able to take hold.

Hob leans forward conspiratorially. "Would you like to hear the absolutely brilliant theories my students have been spinning about old Billy Caxton?"

"I would," Dream decides, for listening to Hob's tales is a pleasure, one which will put him at ease before offering his own.

Hob slips easily into his role as storyteller, regaling Dream with anecdotes pulled from the days he devotes to shepherding young dreamers in their waking hours, guiding their minds in pursuit of knowledge. He is animated, enthusiastic, expressive; it is a joy to watch his face, his hands, and Dream is pleasantly aware of his own smile as Hob winds to an end.

"Anyway, I love that I can just say 'I was there!' when I get a little too specific in my lectures these days and they'll think nothing of it, laugh it off, 'dear old Professor Gadling he's such fun!' Definitely makes my life easier." He shakes his head with a fond smile, takes a draught of the beer at his elbow. "Christ, there I go again. I think we both know I'll talk all night, given the chance, so please tell me to shut up if you've got something to say, or if you just get tired of it."

"Your stories are a comfort," Dream assures him, smoothly taking hold of the opening afforded him. "One I sorely missed in 1989." He can feel the way that Hob goes still, at that, and he steels himself, dreading and anticipating his own words in equal measure. "I would tell you, Hob Gadling, of why I was unable to keep our previous appointment." He glances up, into the warm brown of Hob's eyes. "It is. Not a pleasant story."

A myriad of emotions flicker in Hob's expressive face, eager curiosity, wariness, old hurt and new worry; he schools them quickly, holding Dream's gaze with earnest and sober intensity. "If it's something you want to tell, then I. I should like to listen, to hear it."

Dream is grateful, for everything about this man who has dared to name him friend; it is time he is shown the regard he is due.

"Yes. But. First, I would tell you. Who I am."

= Started: 6/10/24 Drafted: 7/4/24 Posted: 7/7/24

#TJs Fics #Dreamling #Sandman #Dreamling Bingo 2024 #wip: frequency

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goodqueenaly · 10 months ago

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Which pre/post-Conquest events and in-series events do you think would be popular plays/operas in each of the Seven Kingdoms and Essos?

Well, we do get a bit of a sense of what sort of "history plays" have been written and performed in Braavos (though whether these have been popularized elsewhere in Essos is a bit of a mystery). Arya references the mummers of the Ship teaching her speeches from, among other plays, The Conqueror's Two Wives, presumably about Rhaenys and Visenya Targaryen (which I personally think would be a potentially fascinating study on the respective characters of as well as the relationship between the two sisters). Likewise, in "Mercy", Arya-as-Mercy notes that Izembaro borrows a threat from Prince Garin in Phario Forel's Wroth of the Dragonlords, a play about the doomed final resistance of the Rhoynar against the Valyrian Freehold. Of course, the main action in "Mercy" centers around the staging of Forel's newest work, The Bloody Hand, a play which - obviously more than a little loosely - adapts very recent Westerosi history, staged in that chapter for the entertainment of the Baratheon-Lannister court's envoy, Harys Swyft.

Westeros doesn't appear to have exactly the same theatrical tradition Braavos seems to have, but there are certainly both puppet shows and mummer's plays performed across the Seven Kingdoms. While the specific entertainments we've seen have been limited to either mythological (the story of Florian the Fool) or allegorical (the unsubtle tale of the kingdom of beasts reported by Qyburn to Cersei) subject matter, there might nevertheless be any number of opportunities for historical events to, no pun intended, take center stage. There are way, way too many historical events and figures in the roughly eight millennia of Westeros' existence as a collection of political entities (again, to say nothing of Essos), so these ideas are not even scratching the surface, but I thought I would come up with a few.

So, for example, the accusations against Queen Naerys and Prince Aemon (perhaps complete with a Katherine of Aragon-like defense by the queen) might mirror, say, Henry VIII. The collapse of the Gardener kingdom under the weak and ineffective Garth X, followed by a devastating civil war, feels to me like an opportunity for a Reach version of Henry VI (perhaps echoed with the Dance of the Dragons, many centuries later). Even the story of Torgon Greyiron might have its share of light Hamlet parallels, as the story of a royal son quasi-usurped from his royal place by the wicked murderer of his kinsmen while he was away from his homeland (though with Torgon having something of a more fortunate ending than Hamlet himself, naturally). Not, of course, that we need to limit our imaginations only to perfect parallels of Shakespeare plays (to say nothing of any other history playwrights). Benedict Justman, for one, seems like a figure whose life could be used to ask deep questions on, say, the nature of power, the importance of love versus duty, and the importance (or not) of legitimacy. The flight of the Manderlys from the Reach and their welcome by the Starks might likewise be used by some enterprising playwright to explore themes of justice (and injustice), alienation, and self-identity.

And of course, what entertainments might be popular would likely be dependent on the politics of any given time and/or place. Would, say, plays depicting King Ronard Storm have been popularized during the reign of King Aegon IV or King Daeron II - maybe to denounce Ronard's reign as defined by lasciviousness and resistance to lawful authority (as with Aegon's), but maybe also to depict a bastard as a stronger and more worthy heir than his legitimate half-brother (if, say, the play was written by Blackfyre partisans)? Perhaps in the immediate aftermath of Robert's Rebellion, Riverlands playwrights would have looked for inspiration to the heroic uprising of Edmyn Tully against the wicked tyrant Harren Hoare (though perhaps with less emphasis placed on the king rewarding Edmyn being the first of the recently overthrown Targaryen dynasty). Daeron I's conquest of Dorne might have encouraged pro-conquest playwrights to create works about King Durran the Young, whose similar name, apparently similar youth, and very bloody military campaigns against Dornish armies might have made a natural comparison for these creators (though probably less so the idea that King Durran supposedly "became besotted with his own niece in later life and died at the hands of his brother Erich Kin-Killer").

Personally, I would love to see more fanfic invent plays or similar entertainments from Westerosi history. I, of course, would be remiss not to note my own, albeit very humble attempt at a Westerosi history play, The True History of the Blackfyre Rebellion. (And please no one remind me that I have a second play that I probably have to completely rework and is certainly nowhere close to being done.)

#asoiaf meta #creative #westerosi culture

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stheresya · 11 days ago

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The Drowned God vs the Storm God Or why Euron and Aeron are two sides of the same coin

The first time we hear of both Aeron and Euron is in ACOK, and through the description of each man we can see that despite being brothers they're both very different. We follow Theon's return to his homeland, and being far away for so long means a lot has changed to the point where it feels like he's experiencing the Iron Islands for the first time. But even then he's aware that Euron was a very dangerous man, and even someone as fearless as Asha spoke of him with unease. Aeron on the other hand, despite being an uncle with whom Theon grew up with and remembers fondly, had become someone so entirely different that Theon felt like he was speaking to a stranger. It's said that Aeron used to be an easygoing man, someone who liked to party and have fun, the uncle that Theon returns to is an overtly serious man, completely immersed into religion.

The Iron Islands follow the faith of the drowned God, understandably so considering they live in a barren land and the sea that surrounds them is their main source of food and prosperity. This makes the salt water from the sea holly to them, and it's present in their religious rites as well as in their rites of passage, and even death by drowning in the sea is considered a blessing. The fact that the Islanders follow one god doesn't make them monotheists, because their faith acknowledges another deity: the Storm God, "a malignant deity who dwells in the sky and hates men and all their works. He sends cruel winds, lashing rains, and the thunder and lightning that bespeak his endless wroth." (The World of Ice and Fire). If the the Drowned God is associated with life, prosperity and victory, the Storm God is associated with death and destruction, and so they both stand in opposition to one another, with the latter god being reviled by all the ironborn.

As a priest, Aeron currently stands as the greatest representative of the Drowned God in the Iron Islands. And this actually means a lot more than the text lets on. Priests of the Drowned yeald a lot of power in the Islands, the only man above them being the King. The power wielded by these prophets of the Drowned God over the ironborn should not be underestimated. Only they could summon kingsmoots, and woe to the man, be he lord or king, who dared defy them.

In ACOK when some ironborn suggest Aeron that he should make a claim in the kingsmoot he immediately rejects the proposition, we are led to believe that it's because Aeron does not see himself worthy of being king, but beyond that, as a priest of the Drowned God, he already held a lot of power in the Iron Islands and had not much need for more.

Drowned vs Storm ----> Aeron as the Drowned vs Euron as the Storm

The Drowned God religion has a lot of focus on death and rebirth. One of their main rituals include drowning someone and bringing them back, because 'what's dead may never die, but rises again harder and stronger', according to their motto. Aeron is one prime example of that ideal because he went through a near-death experience at sea, because of a storm, no less, only to survive and completely change his ways, become a wholly different person. In a way, Aeron did die because he's nothing like the man he was before that experience, and he did rose harder and stronger to an extent, because although his self-harming tendencies still exist in the form of religious zealotry, it's undeniable that the power he yields now as a priest grants him a strength and authority that he never had before. Not only is he a priest of the Drowned God, his own life experiences are also the embodiment of the ideal of death and rebirth from the religion. People pray when they see Aeron and are expected to give him things.

The speaker was the priest he had seen leading the horses along the shoreline. As the man approached, the smallfolk bent the knee, and Theon heard the innkeeper murmur, “Damphair.” (Theon I, ACOK) Wherever [priests] might wander, lords and peasants are obliged to give them food and shelter in the name of the Drowned God. (The World of Ice and Fire)

Associations between Euron and the Storm God are much more explicit in the text. When Balon dies in a supposed accident, everyone is quick to blame the Storm God, when in actuality it was really Euron who flung his brother to his death so he could rule in his stead. At some point Aeron even points out that Euron is the Storm that has come to bring chaos in the Iron Islands, and we the readers can see the truth of it both in the way he affects the lives of the people there and in his plans of conquest.

"Godless? Why, Aeron, I am the godliest man ever to raise sail! You serve one god, Damphair, but I have served ten thousand. From Ib to Asshai, when men see my sails, they pray." (The Iron Captain, AFFC)

The element of prayer at the sight of each man, people pray when they see Aeron because he's a priest and who's owed religious honors, people pray when they see Euron because they are afraid.

What do they want?

Aeron and Euron virtually want the same thing and the only reason Aeron opposes Euron is due to their personal history and because Euron doesn't do things in a Drowned God-honoring way. They both want a return to the Old Way, a time seen as glorious when the Iron Islands lived to invade and reave, killing, raping and enslaving thralling anything on sight.

Theon shifted his seat. "My uncle Euron has not been seen in the islands for close on two years. He may be dead." If so, it might be for the best. Lord Balon's eldest brother had never given up the Old Way, even for a day. (Theon II, ACOK) The Merlyn gaped at him. "A kingsmoot? There has not been a true kingsmoot in . . ." ". . . too long a time!" Aeron cried in anguish. "Yet in the dawn of days the ironborn chose their own kings, raising up the worthiest amongst them. It is time we returned to the Old Way, for only that shall make us great again. (The Prophet, AFFC)

But most showcasing of their similar values is the way Aeron initially reacts to Euron's great speech at the kingsmoot where he promises bloody conquest of the Seven Kingdoms.

For half a heartbeat even Aeron was swept away by the boldness of his words. The priest had dreamed the same dream, when first he’d seen the red comet in the sky. We shall sweep over the green lands with fire and sword, root out the seven gods of the septons and the white trees of the northmen… (The Drowned Man, AFFC)

Aeron idealizes the same thing as Euron, the only thing that gives him stop is the fact that it's Euron making the promises.

In conclusion, both Aeron and Euron are men whom the text itself associates with the gods worshiped in the Iron Islands, the gods that seem equally powerful but always in contradiction to each other. Just like Aeron and Euron are currently the most powerful men in the Iron Islands but are at odds with each other. Aeron may not share Euron's bloodlust, but both are still men with dreams of grandiosity who envision the same thing for their people, even if for entirely different reasons, and it's a grandiosity that can only be acquired through intense violence against everyone else in around them.

#my english is so rusty ugh #having brainrot abt two of the greyjoy bros was certainly not on my 2024 bingo card but here we are #aeron greyjoy #euron greyjoy #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #meta

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astropookie · 2 years ago

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Astro observations pt 3? bc I haven’t finished what I was supposed to post 🧍

This picture is from Pinterest.

I knew someone with the same ascendant and sun as me but I didn’t noticed bc of the moon energy. How important, necessary and notorious is the difference in the big three depending on the element of the moon sign. My big 3 is libra sun, pisces moon and aquarius rising. The energy I give off is more dramatic, sensitive and playful. On the other hand, her moon is in virgo, so the energy she give off is completely opposite than mine: she’s serious, distant and helpful. But we do share the same 2 placements of the big 3.

I didn’t have interest in history but when I had the opportunity of having a class with a new teacher, I liked it. The passion and dedication of the topic they spoke about, and the most important thing is the objectivity; he spoke facts, with sources, without any intention of his students to memorize the information but understand it, observing and analyzing it. Teaching without any misrepresented information. How he -the teacher- spoke about certain topics that in the past, I preferred to pass out than be present in the same class. Being able to be emotional and logic. Would I be embarrassed if I said I loved it? -the manner of speaking and sharing ideas, how he teach-. What placements he has? moon 3H and mercury 1H. Moon in the 3rd house makes the individual learn how to communicate during their whole life, specifically about topics that turns on their sensitive nature. They are balanced: too emotional and logical when it comes to speak up, with time they learn how to be. They’re open minded, they want to listen to different point of views, to understand their own and to extract what benefits them and etc. They observe. Mercury in the 1st house makes them a COMMUNICATOR. That’s why he has the ability of changing my mind, my opinion or point of view, be interested in a topic minutes before I wasn’t. Sophisticated. They have this air that makes you believe them, that you know they’re not lying to you, that they’re transparent and have the sources and motives to back up their ideas. They’re intelligent. They want to learn and this curiosity push them to new fields. They could use their attachment to their origins to transmit ideas, from an specific point of view, that’s unique. Is wholesome, that I had the opportunity to be their student, for have been able to witness this placements 🧍

People with Neptune 7H is so pure. When I first knew this friend, my first impression of her was that she was shy and now I think that we must protect her bc she’s a baby 😭 They often give more than what they receive. They idealize or have a wrong idea of people in their relationships. They tend to ignore or avoid what’s happening in that topic. They think too much about the idea of who surrounds them: think better of them, that the relationship is deeper than it actually is. That’s why they struggle in the social/relationships, specifically in the romantic ones. I’ve seen this people have a good relationships with their friends¿? They could expect too much of their partner, later, realizing they’re not who they thought. Also, they could be shy or reserved because they’re scared of judgement, by being capable of living dreaming.

Moon square Jupiter aspect people always wants “peace” in their relationships, even if its imposible -not everything is going to be pink-. Their moods change A LOT, they could take everything personal. They could feel threatened and bc of this are alert the whole time. They’re inestable, they start the day with a shiny face and then they remember something that happened in the past: their day is ruined -by themselves-. This people get carried by what others think and say about them, they struggle on believing in themselves, with their self-wroth. The environment where they grew up made them doubt. They may support themselves in a religion or spiritual stuff, they could feel peaceful knowing that something has their back, that they don’t suffer alone or is ��for some reason”. They could also attached themselves to a person in specific. They want to know more and more -about religion/spirituality- but they’re scared of not finding the answers they want -but the ones they need. They suffer, trying to understand the meaning or accepting the reality. That they can’t hold anymore to a false reality -that’s their copy mechanism: to create a reality that’s total opposite of the one they grew up, to finally fulfill the necessities of their inner child-.

Scorpio mercury: I love my placement. It’s so fucking 🤯 My sarcastic ass bitch wouldn’t tell otherwise. They observe, when they’re in a new situation -this is a specific case bc they always do-, they analyze the body language, the conduct, the gestures, how they express, how many information they give and what type, their confidence, how they present themselves, everything you would imagine. I LOVE IT. Once I read that with a scorpio mercury you would never know about them, and that ended up being true: they will get information from you in a subtly manner, you don’t realize what you’re saying to them. They’re fucking sarcastic, they love to joke around but not in a goofy way? but they don’t insult an individual, they don’t like it -in my case, 7° (libra degree)- . They get to the point, they’re straightforward, their words can cut you without a warning. They don’t like when people keep making the same questions (repetitive) when it comes to know them, bc it’s obvious -in their eyes- that if they don’t answer or try to avoid it, it’s not necessary to tell you what’s happening -that they don’t like the situation-; and more when they’re a reserve person, they don’t like to reveal their lives if they’re not comfortable/don’t want to. Even worse when someone that they don’t like, take their information and spread it like nothing, without their permission; they will warn you in front of everyone that they didn’t like it and you didn’t have the right to do it. Those little things that I just mentioned are EVERYTHING for them. Don’t you dare use what they told you about themselves in a manner they will not agree. You have the honor of knowing at least a little bit of them, don’t waste it.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

•This is based on my personal experience and what I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

•English is not my first language.

•I’m not a profesional astrologer.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

#astrology #astro observations #pinterest #astrologia #astro posts #astro notes #scorpio mercury #neptune #moon #mercury #moon square jupiter

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atopvisenyashill · 25 days ago

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i was looking through the ai art list this is who i would draw if i could draw

alyx frey - name alone is hilarious sounds like an ao3 self insert name, but she’s actually one of the braavosi freys & as we know i have a soft spot for her brother alesander frey

aliandra martell - DUH that’s my girl that’s my nymeria reborn!!!

nymor martell - first of all can’t believe my man who mysteriously figured out how to stop the slaughter of the dragon’s wroth doesn’t have art but second of all YES underrated f&b character!

the captain’s daughter - this is the woman theon has sex with on his way to the iron islands, i love her 😭

bellonara otherys - not the current black pearl of braavos, her mom

melony piper - INSANE TO ME THAT MELONY PIPER HAS NO ART?? put some respect on her NAME omg she was a great girlfriend!!!!wait she does have art she just used to have ai thank GOD

queen o’ whores - wait first of all i KNEW there was something off about that fuck ass picture on her profile omg but second of all, this is the woman Ryman Frey crowns when he’s drunk right before Jaime smacks him and um, i hope she got away from Lady Stoneheart lmao

Serra - no Serra art (Illyrio’s wife) is CRAZY to me

Alaric Stark - MY MAN ALARIC TAUGHT ALYSANNE WHAT PUSSY EATING IS OMG THE DISRESPECT NEVER ENDS

Teora Toland - she’s the creepy girl who has dragon dreams that’s traveling with Arianne, very excited for that plot

Anya Waynwood - PERHAPS MOST HEINOUS OF ALL. ANYA HAS BEEN OUT HERE WHEELIN AND DEALIN AND DOIN WHAT SHE GOTTA DO FOR DECADES AND SHE HAS AI ART??????? IF I COULD DRAW IT WOULD BE SO OVER

#getting on my soap box

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yellowbluemoonshine · 2 years ago

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Analysis of Shouto-Touya/Dabi Relationship;

Thanks for the ask, @trinityrus. And dont worry. Your english is fine ^^. I actually talk about this a little in here and here but well, lets start.

I think Shouto and Touya’s relationship is very entertaining and amazing because despite the fact that they are siblings but they are strangers but even so, they are same because of Endeavour’s abuse but even that abuse is different so that makes them different.

Shouto and Touya always wanted to switch because they thought other one had it better.

Shouto always had Endeavour’s attention, he was used as tool to make his father’s dreams come true so he wished he could be just like his siblings but that wouldnt make his life better because his siblings are traumatized in a different way. That ‘neglect’, the idea that ‘they are failure’ to their father. Especially we know how it broke Touya. Shouto cant relate to Touya’s desire to please his father because he never liked his father.

And Touya thinks if he wasnt failure, if he was strong enough, if he was just like Shouto, he thinks his life would be better but it wouldnt because that ‘training’, carrying the dreams of their parents is abuse, even Touya didnt see it that way. They both are miserable in a different way. Whether you are golden child or black ship, doesnt matter, because you are still abuse victim. Basically, just from the start, they unable to understand each other’s sitution.

Shouto as ‘golden child’, he hated his left side. Because his father abused his mother, Shouto didnt want to be like him, thats why he ‘repressed’ it.

Touya as ‘abandonded child’, he hold on every similarities between him and his father because he desperately need his attention. And he was never taught to how to put out the fire, which is why, instead of repression, we see opposite of it. Expression. Him ‘lashing out’. His feelings are out of control and he doesnt know how to stop it.

This is the same dynamic we see between main villain trio and main hero trio. Izuku repress his anger and self destructs while Tomura express his anger and his anger is literally out of control, both hurting himself and others. Uraraka repress her needs and her romantic feelings while Toga express everything. Same for Shouto and Dabi too. Shouto respress his anger and anything relates to his past while Dabi express and hold onto every part of his past.

Earlyroki was also repressing but even when he repress, his anger would come out of control. He would fail miserably and lash out to people around him. His fight with Midoriya calmed him down because he finally see his own wroth outside of his father and he started to heal. But the problem is his flaw didnt go away.

Shouto continued to repressing everything. He endured to work with his father and continued to training under him. We can see how his ‘anger’ didnt go away because he almost killed Tetsutetsu in match. He endures, endures, until he cant anymore. Then his feelings get out of control. Its good thing that Shouto wants to be his own hero but the way system it is, it forces him to work with his abuser and since hero kids are raised to be like soldiers, he is unable to heal properly. He wants to move on and be his own person but its like he is stuck.

Their biggest common point with dabi is that anger that made them more like their father, this is what Shouto see in Dabi. ‘He is me’. Its actually very mature of Shouto to see that he could turn out just like his big brother but at the same time, he is projecting a lot. Thats one of the issues between Shouto and Touya.

Shouto relates to Dabi’s anger but since he is trying to move on so bad, he is repressing his anger. One of the biggest flaws of both Shouto and Dabi’s is they distance theirselves from their feelings a lot.

This is why we see Shouto asking this; If you survived back then, why didnt you come home?

As if Earlyroki wouldnt run away, if he had a chance.

‘Dad was a madman, our family was messed up’. By saying this, Shouto lessens his own trauma. As if Endeavour didnt hurt innocent people. He is busy with ‘playing hero’ because thats how he was taught. End of the day, he is still hero and heroes are not allowed to have feelings in society.

Todoroki family doesnt really know the Earlyroki or you could say ‘it was okay Shouto to be violent, since he is hero and he only hurts villains’ but Shouto know his own feelings, his dark side and thats why he still can see Dabi as brother. He is the only one who seems to see Dabi as person more than other members of family.

Because of Endeavour, Shouto wants to become kind of hero who wants to save his family, he wants to be invidual so Dabi is perfect match for him. Dabi is big challenge for him to be the kind of person he wants to be because he symbolize the past Shouto tries to repress. He knows he has to face it but he really doesnt know how to. This is why we see him treating him as brother in one moment and tries to talk with him but the fight goes on, he starts treating him as villain. ‘You wont hurt innocent people anymore’.

Shouto cant reach out to Touya because he didnt adress his own trauma properly. If Shouto cant see himself as victim, he cant see Touya either. If society doesnt see the flaws of society that lets people like Endeavour get away, then he cant save his brother.

This is even more obvious with Dabi. He literally see him as puppet and copy of Endeavour. Just like Shouto, they both know what happenned to them is abuse, that they both are victims but he internalized his abuse too much, Dabi justify the abuse Endeavour did to him in his mind. That he is failure and Shouto is masterpiece so if Dabi cant see himself as victim, not as failure, then how can see Shouto as another victim, instead of masterpiece? They both dehumanizing theirselves, thats exactly why they unable to see each others as inviduals because they cant even allow theirselves to be invidual.

Once again, we can see this with Shouto when he looked at is brother’s power and he said ‘we both carry the same blood’, even though he was supposed to be not bound by blood. We can still see him struggling with his own issues.

So basically, if they want to heal, they have to adress their own pain. They have to accept that they are victims. Shouto has to stop repressing his anger and shouldnt force himself to get along with system and Dabi has to realize that even he was powerfull like Shouto, his problems wouldnt be solved. That training would still be abuse. So i cant imagine those two healing without acknowledging each others’s pain because that way, they will also have to acknowledge their pain first.

Both Shouto and Dabi still looking for a reason for their existence. Why were they born at that home? They both desperarely looking worth in theirselves. Shouto find it in class 1 A and Dabi find it in league. Shouto wants to know his brother better and be together with his family and Dabi in deep also wants to turn back to his family (except Endeavour because he doesnt deserve it).

Of course, Dabi is gonna push Shouto first and he is still pushing him because he is pushing himself. He acts like Touya is someone else, that his identity died but its not true. We see it with his fight with Shouto. First, he acts like a villain and make a speech about society but the fight goes on, he loose his anger and starts to act like brother, opposite of Shouto who repress it, Dabi express it.

Since those two desire for the same and they can understand each others more than anyone, i think they will eventually get along really well. And i mentioned in my other post, their characters really fits each others. Touya always express himself with actions more than words while Shouto always pay attention to someone’s actions more than their words. They will get along really well.

Bonus;

Source

When they were kids, they were strangers but Shouto always wanted to know about his big brother Touya more and most likely, Touya didnt want to feel jeolosy towards innocent Shouto but he couldnt help it. But if Endeavour wasnt horrible human being, then they would most likely support each others and become great heroes together. Even as villain-hero, they inspire each others so as heroes, they would even be better and thats the future they deserve.

#mha meta #bnha analysis #dabi #todoroki shouto #todoroki touya #bnha parallels #tw abuse #anon ask #bnha 380 #mha 380

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horizon-verizon · 2 years ago

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Alicent’s Politicking

There is a current argument (or rather "emphasis") that Book!Rhaenyra did a very stupid thing to have illegitimate children and make it easier for her enemies (in general) to use it as pretext for attacking her or usurping her.

Aside from how her extramarital sex and birthing her sons is actually not that much a political worry as we think by historical precedents, I refuse to leave Alicent behind in "politically or logically stupid moves" argument. Because that's the other thing: no one green considers how deeply Book!Alicent fucked up and was sometimes both politically "stupid" as well as (actually) morally deficient.

She antagonizes Rhaenyra since the latter was 10. There was public notice of their enmity many times, even enough for Essosi travelers to take notice of it in one of the tourneys. If Alicent was smarter, she would not have made her hatred of Rhaenyra so obvious.

Her teaching her kids to see Rhaenyra as lesser or just a enemies was also dumb since Alicent doesn't really know what she or her husband (before and after Laenor, if Daemon hadn't been available) would have done to her or her kids before Viserys died to secure Rhaenyra's claim. Or afterwards when Rhaenyra took King's Landing. He/they could have been a lot crueler to Alicent than Rhaenyra was (Quote below).

Alicent seriously miscalculated how many supporters Rhaenyra would have.

Why? Alicent is going against the word of a King/the monarch and she acts as if the oaths that these people took have 0 value or were not enough for the to support Rhaenyra. Not only is this self contradictory (oath-taking is a matter of ideological, chivalric honor and are supposed to be about the privilege of nobles and men....make it make sense), it seems she hadn't expected them to believe the blend of feudalxabsolute monarchy and a King's word to matter...then why should her own son, Aegon's words matter? Of course Daeron (Hugh and Ulf), Jaehaera (Unwin Peake), and Aegon (his poisoning and the Shepherd) were all killed/not taken seriously. All the Greens' supporters were either already in line with them for their own self-serving ambitions or were forced to (Maidenpool).

Rhaenyra had the Velayrons at her side, so she had way more dragons than the greens did, and Helaena wasn't thought as a serious fighter. I don't think that Alicent really thought that Aegon would even have to ride his dragon or be willing to, to defeat Rhaenyra and put himself in harm's way. Therefore, she also puts her kids in harm's way through her ignorance and miscalculations.

Fearing for her sons, Queen Alicent went to the Iron Throne upon her knees, to plead for peace. This time the Queen in Chains put forth the notion that the realm might be divided; Rhaenyra would keep King’s Landing and the crownlands, the North, the Vale of Arryn, all the lands watered by the Trident, and the isles. To Aegon II would go the stormlands, the westerlands, and the Reach, to be ruled from Oldtown.

Rhaenyra rejected her stepmother’s proposal with scorn. “Your sons might have had places of honor at my court if they had kept faith,” Her Grace declared, “but they sought to rob me of my birthright, and the blood of my sweet sons is on their hands.”

"Bastard blood, shed at war,” Alicent replied. “My son’s sons were innocent boys, cruelly murdered. How many more must die to slake your thirst for vengeance?”

The Dowager Queen’s words only fanned the fire of Rhaenyra’s wroth. “I will hear no more lies,” she warned. “Speak again of bastardy, and I will have your tongue out.” Or so the tale is told by Septon Eustace. Munkun says the same in his True Telling.

(Fire and Blood; Rhaenyra Triumphant)

As if Alicent wasn't the one who began all this conflict by teaching her kids to hate Rhaenyra/her sons AND was not the one to want Lucerys' eye for Aemond's, to which Rhaenyra was responding with accusation of treason.

Rhaenyra's dismissal of Alicent makes it very clear the great and stupid risk Alicent took based on her pride, miscalculations, and zealotry. It got her screaming into the night, alone, and isolated, hating the color green forevermore and all her kids dead through terrible means, all her boys dead with ideas of their own privilege and grandeur.

EDIT #1:

Refer to @the-king-andthe-lionheart‘s reblogs below for expansion.

EDIT #2:

I wrote a post back in Dec '22 about how Alicent and Otto and all green stans are wrong about Alicent being "right" about the lords, how they came to that conclusion, and Alicent's characterization/prejudice HERE.

EDIT #3:

Why....why, why would a person looking to negotiate terms to save their children (Alicent) call their target's (Rhaenyra) sons "bastards" right to their very face?!!!

When in the past this is the very thing that proved a huge point of contention, the weapon they rubbed and used against their target back then, that they are trying to make deals with now?!!

EDIT #4 (HotD’s Alicent specifically):

F&B Quote (and if we take at HoD!alicent at face value):

In canon, we don’t hear anything about how Alicent (specifically and clearly) viewed cradle-bonding as related to the Velaryon boys, whether she hoped they wouldn’t be able to hatch any dragons in their childhood. It is implied, though, by her character of courtliness and Andal-Seven upbringing/teachings that really concerns itself with bastards vs trueborns, etc, that she would have believed this, though.

However, since book!Alicent is still smarter than show!Alicent, I assume that while she believed and held out hope so that the court speculation would turn towards her and her kids’ favor, she also wouldn’t come out and say that Rhaenyra’s kids were made obviously illegitimate through this event where they didn’t hatch any eggs. Her own daughter, Helaena, had to claim a dragon way before Aemond claimed Vhagar. Dreamfyre was Rhaena Targaryen (the Queen Dowager)’s dragon two generations ago. Viserys, Alicent’s own husband, also had to claim a dragon, and he did it in his 20s--Balerion the Black Dread and Aegon the Conqueror’s dragon, who died not long after Viserys first rode him. These same facts are the same in HotD’s “universe”.

If Alicent from the canon and book still believe in legitimacy being "proven" through cradle bonding even after being married to Viserys AND having at least 2 of her 4 kids having had to claim a dragon, then she'd be dumb for still thinking that. However, she'd still be smarter than show!Alicent for not expressing it aloud where her husband could hear her.

So show!Alicent was very stupid for vocally and confidently saying how she couldn’t understand how Rhaenyra’s sons’ eggs hatched to imply their bastardry. Aside from Targaryens/Targ-descents mostly claiming dragons since Valyria was a thing, it wasn’t politically smart. Why would you call your husband’s grandchildren bastards in front of his face, and so cavalierly?!

It’s rather a sign of Viserys’ stupidity and allowance if her getting away with a lot for no particularly good reason. Or terrible writing and character development. Why would Viserys be so adamant in keeping Rhaenyra’s kids safe and the heris for the throne and then not snap at Alicent for being so brazen and direct? For even the implication, for allowing her to go one for years about their parentage without harsher reprimands? And it goes back to how we weren’t allowed the scenes between the two parts of the family throught the ajor jump cut, because after Alicent first implied such a thing, we should have seen Viserys be as harsh and direct as he was towards Aemond in episode 7 and towards Otto in episode 4. And then, in the events of epsiode 6, Alicent would have been much more careful bringing up this bastard claim, creating so much more tension!

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childotkw · 2 years ago

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re that au where au!tom yeets himself into canon - so you said harry would be happy to ignore the, uh, particular brand of obsessed tom's got going with him. but what about everyone else's (who knows his real identity) reaction to that? like harry's friends (I imagine tom would be using every opportunity to push them away so he can hang out with harry alone), the rest of the order, dumbledore (who i assume trusts him about as much as you can trust a dementor to not snack on your soul), the other death eaters, or even canon!voldemort

oh ho ho

Harry knows, after the initial confusion and fear and disgust and rage are cycled through, that the presence of a different Tom Riddle at his side is not accepted but for the moment tolerated.

The Order, Dumbledore, are too soldier-like to disregard what an asset Riddle will be in this fight -

(war, a part of Harry corrects, because even if he's never experienced it on such a scale, every day of his life has been a battle and he knows, bone-deep, what the beat of drums on the horizon means)

and that if the only thing guaranteeing his compliance is access to Harry then they will do it. Because Harry has always been more tool than person in their eyes, more symbol than boy.

And it's not even that Harry particularly minds being given up like a sacrifice, an appeasement, an offering because that's what he's spent his whole life being moulded into, isn't it? Someone to lay down his life for others, someone to take the hits, someone to draw the ire and attention of the most dangerous man in the world so that others could spin their plans on the side.

He's honestly not even surprised when they agree to let Riddle stay with him.

His friends don't understand his ease with the situation. They don't think he's in the right headspace to know what he's agreeing to (don't trust me, Harry thinks, a little bitter, a little sad). Ginny, in particular, is wroth at the Order's decision. She rages, she spits, she cries - because the young man standing at Harry's shoulder shares the face of the boy she had put her faith in and been violated by, been betrayed by, and it's not fair to ask Harry to go through that too.

Hermione and Ron are more quiet in their disagreement, their anger on Harry's behalf a simmering but ever-present force. They don't like Riddle, don't trust him, don't want him near their friend, but Harry is unmoving and the more time he spends with Riddle the less weight their voices seem to hold and they're scared.

Voldemort, on his part, is at first frustrated and then curious. He shares a mental link with Harry, after all, and the more glimpses he gets of his other self - of the things he says to Harry, of how masterfully he brings the boy under his purview, of the subtle influences he imposes that always, always lead to impressive growth in Harry - the more he begins to understand just why a version of Tom Riddle would leap dimensions to find another Harry Potter.

The Death Eaters are more confused than anything, but the ones that cross paths with Harry more often? The ones that find themselves on the end of his wand more and more? They're the ones that begin to see. That know -

Harry Potter is shifting. Slowly, incrementally, he's sliding away from being a paragon of Light propaganda and is becoming more...open-minded. His spells drift more towards maim than subdue. Curses roll of his tongue without hesitation. His magic, just as fierce as ever, has a certain flavour to it now, some mix of Dark and Light that is bewitching to see.

And when he rages how beautifully it swirls.

Tom is...content for the most part. Under his guidance Harry has begun to shake some of the more unappealing traits he's been forced to cultivate over the years. He's more assertive, more confident, more in control. Proactive rather than reactive. Stable rather than teetering on the edge of destruction.

Harry's no use to Tom if he can't stand up to him, after all. What good is a balancing influence that fails at balancing?

#anonymous #HP #YEET AU #harry potter #tom riddle #tomarry

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muddlemore · 1 year ago

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the visual guide "confirmed" which of the 7 deadly sins each toon is. and bugs is innocent because favoritism

greed: daffy duck anger: yosemite sam envy: marvin the martian gluttony: taz pride: wile e coyote lust: pepe le pew sloth: foghorn leghorn

transcript under reader

Greed: When money, fame, or glory are up tor grabs, you can count on Daffy Duck to do most of the grabbing! Driven by a despicable urge to get more than his fair share, Daffy makes no attempt to hide his greed. "Survival of the fittest,” he says in Rabbit Seasoning, "and besides, its fun!"

Anger: Yosemite Sam's downfall is his hair-trigger temper— the runty hombre will shoot you just for standing nearby.

Envy: "Mars needs women" and "women come from Venus." Perhaps that's why Marvin the Martian envies Earthlings, who can see Venus directly. Marvin's view of this beautiful planet is blocked by our world, giving his failings Earth-shaking consequences for Bugs and Daffy.

Gluttony: The Tasmanian Devil has a devil of an appetite! Cats, bats, dogs, hogs, elephants, antelopes, pheasants, ferrets, goats, and, especially, rabbits feature on his mega-menu. But the Devil's failure to look before he lunches has been his undoing— in the form of chef Bugs TNT-laced Wild Turkey Surprise.

Pride: "I'm Wile E. Coyote, supergenius!" Mix that ego with an Acme catalog and you've got a recipe for destruction (his own). The wily coyote's inflated self-wroth leads his plans— and his gunpowder— to forever blow up in his face.

Lust: They say love is blind, and when Pepe Le Pew is in the grip of l'amour, he certainly loses sight of reality. One glimpse of a fetching female has the great skunk lover kissing his judgment goodbye and unknowingly pursuing… un cat!

Sloth: "I keep pitching ‘em, and you keep missing ‘em!” says Foghorn Leghorn to Henery Hawk. The laid-back rooster is too fast for the chicken hawk, but is otherwise a master of doing absolutely nothing.

Bonus Bugs Bunny paragraph: Leader of the gang: He may be supercool and always in control but Bugs is no angel! At various times, the —wabbit been greedy, angry, gluttonous, lustful, proud, slothful… even envious (albeit of a turtle. his traditional fairy-tale enemy). It fakes one debonair hare to look so good While being so bad.

#looney tunes #picking through this guide finally sorry in advance #let me know if u want me to transcript the rest #the site fucked up its transcripts sooo bad

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searchingforserendipity25 · 1 year ago

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For the kissing game I would like to ask for Daeron/Maglor with 23, pretty please!

Thank you so much @revirag! <3

In Relief

It had been so long. He could have wept for how long it had been since he had had this.

Warmth, pressure, the sweet and simple treasure that was touch among the kindred. The impression of another spirit, and this one - he, whose presence in the Music was clearest and closest to Daeron of all, close enough that the resonance between mind and heart and spirit spread through him like the thrumming of many strings.

So long, it had been; never so long it was not the easiest thing in the world to meet it, and answer it fully, and make wish to weep for how sweet it was.

Daeron had only wept when he was most wroth, once. Lúthien used to be so generous about it - tender, but not too tender, quick to offer laughter as a counter to sorrow and fierce in joining in his anger when the cause was right.

The cause had generally been right, in Doriath, but very petty, or so it seemed to him now. More often than not, Daeron had been only ever angry at himself, frustrated with the persuit of his work. Lúthien had asked him the right questions, always, prescient and wise and very clever in unwinding the confusion Daeron made of his passion for creating signs, songs.

He did not weep now. All his tears were given over to sorrow, and his anger burned true and clear enough that nought could quench it. Nought, but this -

Daeron pressed closer, gripped the short curls, bared the fine throat.

"Master Daeron," Maglor said, voice hitching, hands very still. "Greetings. I had not thought to find you traveling this way."

Daeron had stayed away as long as he could bear it. That was assuredly his prerogative, and his right, as much as his obligation.

“You,” Daeron whispered, very quiet and very wrathful. “Have been avoiding me.”

Maglor’s eyes glimmered in the dark - but they never did weep very much over each other, either of them.

“I thought that was your wish,” Maglor said, very evenly. As if he were not in danger from Daeron; as if the danger, or Daeron, or both, signified nothing.

He did not move to release himself, or towards defense, or attack or - anything at all, except tilt back his neck obligingly, the outrageous flicker of his lashes an affront.

Daeron could not forgive it. There was much Daeron could not forgive, but not least Maglor’s easy relinquishing of the self, his way of turning easy and sweet as running water between Daeron’s fingers, and the price of it only the ridiculous and tempting demand of an answering relief from duty, and mourning, and memory.

It would be so much easier, if it were not an offer as much as a demand. He, too, knew very well the costs of lonesome exile, that made even the coldest lashing wind as precious as a caress, and left the skin prickling with longing as with a long fever.

"I do," Daeron said, lying. “I do wish it,” and he pressed nearer still, to steal all doubt of it out of Maglor’s mouth. He bit it sharply, and the sound that slipped from Maglor was artless and ragged, a wild horror tame under his grasp. It left a heady taste in Daeron's mouth when he kissed it out of him, rich as wine after a long hunt.

Daeron grasped him. Daeron grasped him tightly as some men grasped their blades, white-knuckled and trembling with terror, furious, furious, furious, and could not step back.

Maglor folded himself against him, very cautiously at first. Yielding - not grasping at anything. It was not often that Daeron permission himself to be touched by his accursed hands.

He nuzzled the curve of Daeron’s neck, hummed gently when Daeron's fingers dipped into the curve of his skull. He could not bring himself to want to hold him more kindly, more lightly. Now that he had him, he could not bear to release him for anything.

Daeron could not ask counsel from any but the stars, now, and they had made their judgement clear enough. He could not unwind his own heart, clear it from fear. The grief he would bear till the end of the world, but he did not want this fear. If he could have set it by the wayside, like a rusted trinket for the white cranes to use for a nest, if he could tread it into the mud and leave it behind -

Daeron’s breathing rang ragged and dissonant to his own ears. “I thought you lost. I thought -”

Maglor’s haughty, dangerous mouth did not curl with laughter, or speak insinuations, or insults - or worse, more dangerous by far, the whispered tenderness that slipped through, sometimes, when they met by false accident in the fragrant woods, when Daeron’s feet betrayed him and brought him near the restless song of the sea.

How his eyes gleamed, still! He was not victorious, or vindictive; he leaned in, cool, and sweet, and easy between Daeron’s fingers, almost kind.

It was terrible. Daeron might not walked so long and so far from the sea as if in flight, if there were nothing of worth in him at all. Certainly he would not have turned back, and sought him out over the great pitiless waters, if not for that - he wished to believe that much, at least.

It had been so long. Not long enough for it to be a forgivable lapse. But Lúthien had been gracious and kind, and she might forgive him this lapse - for had she not gone terrible and wild and changeful for love, once?

“I was lost,” Maglor murmured. The sea broke itself against the rocks, not far; high above the heavens kept their righteous vigil, and would love Daeron the less for how he tilted to hear him speak, to feel his breath upon his own mouth. “I meant to be lost! You have found me, after all, though I sought you not.”

Forgive me, my lady, Daeron thought. It was such a relief to hold another living body, this loving body. Daeron hold his face in his palms and kissed him, trembling with hunger, and pretended the tears he felt were his own only.

#daeron #maglor #daemags #asks and answers #kiss meme #my fic #maglor/daeron

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backjustforberena · 3 months ago

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the idea that show!rhaenys and corlys are somehow worse than book!rhaenys and corlys is so… interesting to me.

we get a very sweet quote from them and are said that they love each other. and in the same light, we also have the fact that corlys (most likely) cheated on rhaenys with a sixteen year old girl, younger than his own children at the time, after getting with rhaenys when she herself was sixteen and he was thirty seven. now, it’s westeros, and that’s not the worse thing a man could do.

in the show, if we simply barebones it, they’re displayed as a couple who loves each other. they go through tribulations that are not stated in the book, such as corlys being gone for six years, and then, it’s discovered that he cheated, with some unknown woman earlier in the timeline than it was in the books.

i don’t get how show!corlys is somehow a ‘worst’ man for what he’s done in the show. i do like the fact that he’s no longer a creeper who’s going after sixteen year old girls. but i think ppl need to cut show!corlys some slack

Oh, that's an easy one to answer. See, people tend to either want to idealise or villainise. Especially in situations, such as this, where we don't have an answer or context for certain actions or events. It's a lot easier to go to black or white than admit the grey.

When it comes to book vs show, in my opinion, it's very easy to idealise book!Corlys - the bad things are just glanced over, we have these gorgeous quotes, a wonderful epitaph for Rhaenys about being a faithful wife, this hyperbolic language from George about them being perfect matches and the age gap, whilst extreme, is negligible between the pair as they are presented as equals. You can interpret the small amount of material in either a positive or negative light and people tend to want to go with the positive.

We have no real meat that comes off the back of the problems or potential problems within the marriage: there's no evidence of conflict, especially as Rhaenys, in this scenario, has no awareness (that we know of) about Corlys's infidelity. The scenarios in which conflict arises in the show are not given space or time in the book: the deaths of their children, the ongoing topic of Rhaenys's claim, their choice to support Rhaenyra, Corlys's ambitions. The personalities of the characters, during this time, especially with Rhaenys, are hard to draw on - the motives even more so, only founded, really, on gossip and later summeration. Ergo, the couple is easy to idealise. They're not complex.

So, for example, let's take this line:

Her husband, Corlys Velaryon, was so wroth that he gave up his admiralty and his place on the small council and took his wife back to Driftmark.

To me, I can read that as advocacy for his wife. As protective. As fearless in the face of the King who has just denied his wife what should be hers and wishes to safeguard her and the pregnancy by taking her home, to avoid further stress. Telling the King to "go to hell", for all intents and purposes, and taking the lead from his wife, as the preceding line details her reaction. It's nice. It speaks well of the relationship - a slight to her is a slight to him.

But, someone else might read it differently. They could take it as Corlys being controlling. Furious, not for his wife's sake, but for the ambitions he had for his offspring that have now been denied. It could be punishment. He may not have given Rhaenys a choice: it could well be ordered, as he "took" her back to Driftmark. It could suggest possessiveness and an action without compromise. It's not up to her and now she has lost station by being removed from the succession. It's rash, and it's bold and comes from anger. It could easily be self-centred.

See how that works? It depends on what you want to prioritise: his ambition or his love. It depends on what you believe and how you read it. It depends on what you think his state of mind was.

And, on the flip side, if you're that way inclined, it's very easy to villainise show!Corlys. Not only, as you point out, because we have certain major changes - the most pressing of which is that six-year absence - but also because we are emotionally attached and see the emotional fallout to each and every one of these conflicts, sometimes without satisfactory resolution. We see them as people, not characters, but our view of them is still limited. In a different way to the books, but still limited because that's the nature of the show.

You can take the facts we have: the absence, the cheating, the bastards, the ambitions, the blindness, and then you don't look much further than that, especially if you're "on Rhaenys's side" with it all - you just see that he's hurt her and damn him and don't really look much further than that. You put them into a box as the adulterous husband and the betrayed wife, and that can clash what they actually then portray and so you just don't engage.

Show!Corlys, as well, I would say, is subjected to a modern interpretation and modern judgment. We judge the marriage based on our standards rather than contextualising it for the time and place it is in. That colours our judgment of both characters. The TV show, as a whole, is subjected to that in a way that the book isn't. As Steve has said, whenever you make something, it reflects the times you make it - which is why it's horrendous to see Viserys walk with a little Laena, whereas it barely makes you blink in the book.

Show!Corlys is made the "worse" man because we see how his actions affect those around him. We see Rhaenys's loneliness and the chaos caused by the Driftmark succession. We also see Alyn and Addam, abandoned by their father and shunned as bastads. We see Laena walk with Viserys and the misery of Laenor.

Some of his actions are worse than the book, if you want to judge it like that. Some are better. Some are greyer. These aren't, in my opinion, to make Corlys a man less worthy of our liking or more. They're a result, largely, of grander changes to the plot and the storytelling - the compression of timelines, the changes to the backstories of other characters, the need to have him in proximity to events or even out of the way of events.

I'm fascinated by people who don't think Corlys loves Rhaenys. Mainly because I think they're wrong and I don't understand where they're coming from because the show practically screams it. The actors certainly say it. I want to know if they believed in the love in Season 1 and if it's just a case of Alyn and Addam clouding things (to which I'd say, they actually, oddly, change nothing other than what they have to and their existence doesn't automatically cancel out love Corlys feels - especially as he's so undone by it, to the point where he's basically blocked it out until it rears its head) - or was it always present? In which case, I won't be able to convince them.

To me, Corlys's motives and emotions are easier to access in the book and show. Corlys, in the show, is not a bad man. He's done bad things. But we have mountains of regret, shame, emotional growth, love, pride, grief, worry, fear, that colours all of that. He is worthy of compassion. Rhaenys doesn't damn him. The world doesn't damn him. But, interestingly, he damns himself. That's something interesting to me. That's why I like him more in the show.

He doesn't leave for six years because he doesn't care. He cares too much. He cares so much that he can't handle it - all that grief not only sitting inside of him, but watching it eat at his wife and being powerless to do anything and she can't even look at him... yeah, he runs away. He's a coward, not a villain.

Because we have all that he is as book!Corlys, with his ambition and his frustration and his prowess and his pride - but we also have a man struggling. A private man. A family man. A flawed man. A lost man. For every hurt he causes his wife, or his children, or his legacy, there's ever the intent to do so: he's doesn't do any of this out of malice. It hurts him. He's ashamed of his actions but still stuck in a cycle or with the same priorities. He's clinging to the old ways and the "right" ways and the expected ways. He struggles and he feels his age and he thinks he acts for the best when he's just wrong and he's stupid and silly and hurtful and bombastic and all of these things.

I really like Corlys.

#house of the dragon #corlys velaryon

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