#so now instead I have a whole ASOIAF AU

[nemo-in-wonderland]

I can promise you one thing: no matter the AU, Dottie will always serve cunt.

ALWAYS.

And as a Lannister of Lannisport? even more so.

[slexenskee]

The Continuation of Satoru Supremacy

Am I just going to slot this poor boy into every fandom? Signs are pointing to yes at this point lol. Ok so I've had either a JJK/HOTD and JJK/GOT crossover rumbling around my brain for ages now and its gotten to a boiling point lol. The JJK/GOT would probably be Satoru/Robb Stark and the JJK/HOTD probably Satoru/Aegon II. I have them pretty fleshed out in my head ngl.

THE PROBLEM is that I love his name, Satoru, and it literally makes no sense to have him reincarnate into ASOIAF works and somehow end up with that name, which means I would need to change it, and I don't know wtf to change it to.

Literally grasping at straws rn lol. I lowkey like Soren since it sounds Valyrian enough and also I feel like Satoru would be over the moon about it because he'd share a name with one of his favorite Fire Emblem characters.

Anyway the HOTD one would be a isekai/reincarnation AU with Satoru as Daemon and Rheanyra's surprise brothel baby that Rheanyra had to get shotgun-wedding'd to Leanor for 😅 so yeah Satoru is once again causing chaos and problems for other people just by existing... this time before he was even born! He's also called the Radiant Prince and also still the Honored One because he's basically a god and everyone in HOTD is going to damn well know it.

WIP:

In this life, as in his last, his birth was heralded with reverence and veneration, and wrought with untenable legacy. 

He was the firstborn son of the Realm’s Delight, lovely and fair and every bit as preternaturally beautiful as his mother. He was said to have his grandmother’s Arryn blue eyes, the king’s tousled white curls, his mother’s smile, and the very birthright of his great Valyrian heritage etched into his very existence; from his heavenly features, to his dragon, to the very name bestowed upon him. 

For days on end the whole realm celebrated his birth as a magnificent affair; bells tolled long into the night, nobles spilled from the four corners of Westeros bearing gifts of abundance and splendor, the smallfolk celebrated en masse along the streets of King’s Landing. 

They called him a blessed child, a perfect child, a glorious new heir for the throne. 

Upon his very birth the Princess Rheanys was said to have looked into his heavenly eyes and pronounced him a gift from the gods of old Valyria. Those same eyes, a precious, celestial blue resembling the late Queen Aemma, were said to have reduced his grandfather the King to tears from the moment he opened them. Lord Velaryon had named them a mark of the gods’ favor; such a curious, mystifying color, never settling no matter the lighting, as mercurial as a tempest sea. 

Just the mere sight of such a marvelous child, a mortal so obviously marked by the gods, so destined for greatness, could easily quell the rumors beginning long before his birth. 

Such derelict hearsay would never grace the ears of such a divine prince, of course. But he heard it anyway.

They rushed the wedding, they said. 

The princess was meant to start her royal procession to select her prince consort, but instead was married to the Velaryon heir within a moon’s turn. (The King had to appease the Velaryon’s somehow, after the way he snubbed their pure Valyrian heiress for his Hightower bride.)

The babe came early— so suspiciously early. (The Princess Rheanyra was so young, of course she would have difficulty carrying to term. Didn’t you see him? The babe was born so small!)

And he looks every bit a Targaryen, not a speck of Velaryon to be seen on him. (But of course the blood of Aegon the Conqueror would run strong within the royal line— and the Princess Rheanys is his paternal grandmother, such features run on both sides. Why, look at Queen Alicent's children! Do they look Hightower to you?) 

The Rogue Prince dotes on him, shockingly so. He perhaps even reconciled with his brother just to remain near the young prince. (The Rogue Prince has always remained stoutly devoted to his family, no matter his unsavory reputation, his loyalty to the throne is unquestioned. That he is just as devoted to his brother’s heir as he is to his brother is merely filial piety.) 

No matter the rumors swirling around him, it only took a single glance from his blessed blue eyes to halt the whispers in their tracks. 

His divine beauty and grace, his mystical eyes, his magnificent dragon— such pedestrian slander seemed silly and absurd in the face of them. 

To question the legitimacy of the Radiant Prince, the Honored One… no mere mortal could possibly be capable of uttering such blasphemy. 

[wylldebee]

Ye Olde Magick AU Part II: More Houses

As always: thank @books-n-guns for the existence of this AU :D Basic lore (and the first bunch of houses): X Without further ado, have some more houses~!

The Arryns: Wings, wings, wings. They have the most beautiful feathered wings you'll ever lay eyes on and back muscles because damn their wings are heavy. They need special oils and soaps, and are almost constantly grooming. And they have echo voices (X). If the song Hallelujah existed in ASOIAF they would own it. The skies of the Vale always has at least one Arryn or one of it's cadet houses The Boltons: Like books-n-guns says, they're vampires with an interest in blood magic. Legend says the Boltons actually used to be able to shed their whole skin—and I mean their whole skin—until one Bolton got into blood magic and suddenly vampires. The northern weather is perfect for them. The Mormonts: Werebears! Werebears! Werebears! You think Bear Island was named after the bears that inhabit it? No. It's the werebears of House Mormont. Were as wild looking as the Starks of old just bear themed; claws and teeth and fangs and thicker hair, and were generally bigger and stronger. Now they're just strong. Lady Maege Mormont can still crush a man's head between her hands.

The Tarths: Giants. For some reason the magic has been absent from their bloodline for a few years until Brienne was born. While not as big as her ancestors, Brienne is still big and has great strength. She didn't defeat those who had a bet on her maidenhead so much as she sent them flying. People held score cards. Loras was sweating in his armour and allowed Brienne to grapple him instead shut up you drunken archer of my family I allowed it because I didn't want to fucking die. The Hightowers: Flame hair. Think Hades from Hercules. It's safe to the touch and doesn't set anything on fire...unless the Hightower it's attached to wants it. Just like when they turn the beacon's fire green to call their bannerman, a Hightower's hair can turn green at will. Please imagine Alicent entering the room not only in her green dress, but with flickering green flame hair. The Baelishs: Fiery eyes. Look up Lucifer Morningstar red eyes and you get what I'm imagining, though the pupils are a glowing flame coloured. It's hard to look like a friendly and powerless man to be underestimated by all the high lords with these eyes, but Littlefinger manages it. The Greyjoys: Krackens. Honestly I'm just imagining a kracken version of Davey Jones from Pirates of the Caribbean. But they can only get that form when wet with seawater. Can remain in that form so long as a part of their body is still in seawater. Rare times does it skip a member of the family, so sorry Aeron. The Karstarks: Since they are a cadet branch of the Starks they also benefitted from the same wolf magic—however instead of fangs they've got the claws. Sharp and deadly, the Karstarks are best at being frontline fighters where even if they lose their swords they can still maul a bitch. No, seriously, they will maul someone with their claws. They have mauled people with their claws. Rumors say they use grindstones to keep their claws nice and sharp. The Freys: Trolls, specifically bridge trolls. And not the dependable kind that they used to be back in the day. Still having that weasel look to them, they have granite skin that makes normal swords break against them and above-human strength, thus still making them the most powerful bannermen of House Tully. The Reeds: Lizard-lions or frogs. Actually, nobody really knows what the Reeds are—not now or back in the past. Not even Ned knows what Howland Reed looked like because he kept his entire person covered from the top of his head to his hands to his feet. The only thing he saw was a super long tongue jab hard at Arthur's neck that killed the knight and save him. And that's what I've got for now. Again ideas of other houses are welcome!

[spreta-invidia]

Do you have a daemyra fic rec list please? I’m desperately searching but they don’t live up to what you write I love your writing so much !! ❤️

Thank you so much!!! <3 That means so much to me! Thank you for reading and loving my writing.

I didn't have an actual Daemyra rec list, but I put a short one together today! There's so much fic in this fandom that I love, and so much that I have in my tbr queue also!

One Shots (canon or canon AU)

Those Happy Golden Years by SeveDeChampagne: This is actually a series of one shots set between episodes 7 and 9 that I think are just lovely. This is also maybe my favorite subgenre of Daemyra fic?

girls have their secrets by ginvael: This fits the subgenre above also! This is more focused on Rhaenyra, Baela, and Rhaena, and their relationships as the girls grow up. I really love ginvael's writing.

watching, always from the outskirts by vintagemocha: This is Alicent POV, but hear me out- it's great. The outsider POV works so well here to show Daemyra through the years.

burn for me by luthien_under_bough: Dark young queen Rhaenyra demands a special declaration of fealty from Daemon. Luthien's writing is so, so good basically always, and in this piece what got me was her use of detail. Also. Hot.

Multi-chapter (canon or canon AU)

Lavender Haze by madgirlslovesong: I think this is my favorite take on the idea of a disinherited Rhaenyra. This fic pairs really wonderful emotion with really interesting plotting/politics, and some excellent Daemyra content.

Bigger than the Whole Sky by CharlieLeau: Would you like your heart to be broken and broken and then mended? Then this is the fic for you! Instead of bearing her three sons during the ten year separation, in this fic Rhaenyra suffers a series of miscarriages, so the Rhaenyra Daemon reunites with is very different than in canon.

WIPs (canon or canon AU)

Threads of Black, Threads of Green by madgirlslovesong: I described this the other day as "if HotD was actually like ASOIAF" which is probably the highest compliment I can give. The hunt for the white hart inspires Rhaenyra to step up her political game. I caught up with this over two nights and I was so tired at work. Worth it.

Battlefields by calenlily: I'm a sucker for warrior Rhaenyra, but especially in the way calenlily does it here: very much a young woman in a new arena, with missteps and moments of glory both. Super excited for the rest of this. (Calenlily is another writer whose work I enjoy very much!)

Maternal Love by ginvael: An Aemma fix-it! I LOVE time travel fix-its, and this is one of my favs. There are some excellent moments between Aemma and Rhaenyra here.

Speaking of time travel fix-its... I think these two are abandoned, but I love what's there: Beyond the Black Door and five seconds later.

Modern AUs

Petrichor by sweetestsorrows: Really great Rhaenyra POV that takes the reader on a seven-year roller coaster through her relationship with Daemon.

entropy by firecollide (WIP): One of the first modern AUs I read in this fandom! In addition to being super fun, this fic also reignited my love for Arctic Monkeys.

This is definitely incomplete as lists go. I am perpetually behind on things and sort of a sloppy bookmarker (and also not a great comment leaver, though I am trying so hard to get better at that- it means SO much to me when people leave comments that it's almost talked me out of the incessant "oh god why does anyone care what you have to say, ugh you're probably sounding like an idiot" that goes through my head often/always tbh). There are gaps in here I should fill, and some fics are not available right now that any list of my favs feels naked without (High Hopes, I'm looking at you).

Let me know if you love any of these in particular! <3

[ihaveastorminme]

Hi! This is going to be just a tad bit lengthy, so apologies in advance 😅

I haven’t been really reading fanfics for a few years now but wanted to go back to it because I’ve been missing GoT (despite all the grief it gave us) recently. So I looked at the few choice fanfics I’ve saved in my gallery years ago and saw that I saved yours first. I vividly remember liking yours the most, because of the plot, the court intrigue, the characterisation, the lines, dialogues, and the footnotes (and how far it was from the show lol). So I read it once again and what a delight it has been 😌

Anyway, once I reached the end of what I’ve downloaded, I went to check if you updated it — only to see that the work has been privated (is that even the correct term?). Basically, the whole point of me writing this message is that I wanted to tell you that I’ve been reading on AO3 for yeaaaaars but only now did I create an account and it’s because of your work. I didn’t even know there was like a waiting list system or whatever to create an account there! Haha

ANYWAY, for fear of rambling even longer, I just wanted to say thank you for all of your hard work. I’m shy to send this over at AO3 using my new account that I barely know how to use lol, so please accept my gratitude here instead 🤍

Thanks again and I hope you have a wonderful day 🤗

P.S. i absolutely loved the whole trial arc! I just finished reading chapter 25 and I was stressing the whole time they were interrogating her privately 😭

eeeeeeyyy thank you SO MUCH for this message! it was such a lovely thing to read, and i have read it so many times now T_T. Im so happy you enjoyed the story, its always an amazing [and just very soothing to me personally] thing to hear.

the last chapter was difficult to write because it had been a while since i had written anything. And i had to dive into this interrogation, then the consequences of it; i had a ton of material i wanted to read too, from joan of arc's trial, the history of treason laws and so on. AND i was dreading writing the scenes with Rhaegar and his family tbh. the dynamic of the targs has become more central the more i wrote into this story, and i have developed a weird fascination with them almost.

I'm kinda glad this chapter stressed you out a lil bit XD - I KNOW IT SOUNDS TERIBLE but its because it was meant to. i wanted to create a feeling of claustrophobia, that got more and more intense as the questions got more invasive and then outrageous, and then culminating with Thorne's warning/threat to Sansa, which was a scene i have been planning to write since almost the very inception of this story. like, the moment i started to write sansa's role as a 'speaker' of the northern gods, i knew that the confrontation with Thorne would have to happen at some point [not necessarily with Thorne]. and maybe because i was dreading it a bit, it took me a while to write it, because i've been anticipating it for so long.

i think this might be a reason why the ending is taking me so long too. Because there are many scenes i wrote out [like, the very bare bones of them] from the very beginning of the story. The function a bit like marker scenes and the rest of the story is almost built for them, to earn them. and they're all clustered now at the end. there's a bit of pressure i suppose. im just realizing this as i write and facepalming a bit. saying it - or rather writing it out here - does kinda ease the tension a bit actually.

UGH trust me i know the feeling of wanting to hide into AUs after the disappointment of the shows final season. they lost me early on, at around season 5, so my stories have lived in string-realities of GOT/ASOIAF since then.

I do apologize about the hassle of privating the work - there was this post going around a few months ago about an ai program that was using fic as content-harvesting or something like that. Please forgive the terrible - or inaccurate - explanation, i have no idea how to express it correctly. I understood it to mean that this program was using fanfiction for something or other. and it was suggested in the post to private the fics, to keep this from happening. so i did it, and i dont even know if it works to be honest with you. I hope you didnt have to wait long to have an account - and that you have found loads more fics to save and bookmark to make the hassle worth it, at least - as im sure you have, ao3 is a treasure trove in that way.

Thank you so much for messaging me. Thank you for reading. Please feel free to ramble about anything you want to, either here or on ao3 - I would love to chat, its great. Have the best day and a lovely weekend.

[mzminola]

Okay you know what ASoIaF AU where Jon has a twin sister but that doesn't result in another Stark sib up North, it results in the three Kingsguard at the Tower of Joy taking the baby girl & the wetnurse (if there was one, finding one nearby if not) and just. Booking it.

Like... Ned, Howland, and the five other dudes canonically with them roll up a few hours or days later (I don't remember if the timeline is ever non-ambiguous) with absolutely no one stopping them from just walking into the door and up the stairs and finding Lyanna with the remaining baby.

Maybe with nobody else there she died faster and therefore so does Jon. Maybe the situation wasn't actually any worse than canon (again, so ambiguous) but not being delayed by fighting three Kingsguard and having more than just Howland with him once up the stairs means Ned can actually get her proper help so yay, Lyanna lives and gets to come home.

Maybe it doesn't change anything at all, except now there's a Three Men & A Baby situation happening wherever Rhaegar last left them orders to go (or wherever they can think of, if he didn't) along with the whole JonCon & Young Griff and Viserys & Dany plots. Plus Ned's hoping an entire half-dozen Northerners will keep hush about Jon's parentage instead of only needing to trust Howland.

So like. Nothing changes for Ned's anguish and the Stark Family Tragedy, but it does make the political situation more complex.

[little-lazuli]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

@risingsoleil WHY AM I ONLY SEEING THIS NOW 😭😭😭😭😭 Mahalo nui loa titah 🫶🏽🩵 and apologies for the long wait, for some reason I don’t get notifications about submissions from tumblr mobile.

Okie dokie, so I write for some K-pop groups I listen to, Asoiaf and Harry Potter. And going down the line from 1 to 5 my favorite fics I have written include:

1. Son || “Her family was shattered. And it was all her fault. She did it. She lost her baby boy. Her little Ronnie… her son was dead. Molly could only scream louder as that truth nestled into her soul.” ||

My baby, my jewel, my favor, my child. This fic was a result of my rabbit hole dive into Ronald Weasley fics that did his character justice cause wtf was that movie portrayal. They did Rupert dirty. So with this one, I built my own Slytherin Ron au (yes this was inspired by the icon themselves “Fate” by TheTrueSpartan) and the oneshot details a brief overview of moments in Ron’s life shared by Molly Weasley after she is led to believe that her son is dead. Son is part 1 of my Hiraeth series that details moments and other background notes following Ron’s sorting into Slytherin. Molly’s perspective for me was a critical aspect because I don’t think there anyone better that could convey the range of emotions one could feel without it ever being said/described. I mainly wanted readers to have a quick dive into Molly’s perspective to the whole dilemma and show a bit of how unconditional love may not be enough to sustain a relationship, I guess. But yes, by far my most cherished work to date.

2. Intruder || “His soul alone would have never forgiven himself if he didn’t exact the justice he deemed fit upon those that threatened or harmed what was his. And this home—the other members, Jongho—all of it was his.” ||

Ahhhhh! Thank you so much to a person going by the alias Inoxy on Ao3 for the motivation to do this one. Intruder was a sequel to my brief little oneshot called Alone, where Hongjoong realizes someone broke into their dorm where Jongho is alone and sick. Intruder follows up immediately with Jongho’s pov before jumping to Hongjoong’s and seeing how he reacts to what is left. This one was so difficult not in the sense that angst is hard to put from mind to paper, but rather I struggled to write certain actions scenes and instead opted to go another route. As the first work to be written out of complete motivation from such a kind and thoughtful reader, Intruder remains one of my babies forever and always.

3. Leave || “All of it was culminating, Donghyuck knew that for sure. Bound to rupture and ensnare both his heart and theirs. And Donghyuck was terrified of which way the coin was going to land.” ||

EEEEEEEE!! Where do I start with this one? Well, Leave follows the journey of Donghyuck who finds himself a portal between his world and the second dimension and let’s just say, it isn’t always bright where the sun shines. His members’ doppelgängers are not so okay on letting him go and things might just take a turn for the worst. I got this idea from a typical genre where I love watching my biases suffer and watching the world be served justice prior to the happy ending they deserve. And it was the first nct fic I ever wrote and loved the semi-open ending.

4. Verdict || “Daphne promised him something in those short and bitter moments before he was led away like some damn game waiting to be slaughtered. Promised she wouldn’t rage over him. Promised she wouldn’t exact some form of petty revenge on Dawlish, or Head Auror Robards or even that blasted excuse of a minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt for not stepping in sooner. Of course she didn’t keep that damned promise.” ||

Part six of my Hiraeth series, (my Slytherin Ron au) Verdict was a tough one for me because it was the first time I was writing for… essentially one of the npc’s of a major franchise. I wanted to find a set balance between a true canon character and a OC who’s life is forever changed because of my au. And I think achieved that with Daphne’s pov in this one as she awaits Ron’s verdict. It was also really fun to create the scene where Molly finally sees Ron again after believing him to be dead in this au and for that, Verdict holds a special place in my heart.

5. Sing || “Taeyong hated the mere thought of death having their way with his son. It was a cruel twist of fate on both ends.” ||

And finally Sing. This oneshot was originally a Deckerstar fic that I rewrote and revamped to be a nct vampire au. I enjoy a quick sucker punch of angst every now and again so I made this au where Taeyong has to say goodbye to his childe/son and his only spawn Haechannie :)) the original long au followed the basis of Taeyong being too dependent and passive of the things he has in his very long life and how all of that comes to an end after another magical being takes revenge on Taeyong through Hyuck. And yuppers, that was that.

Thank you for attending my Ted talk yall and lemme just say, this was so fun. I’m going to tag my next five, please don’t feel pressured at all and I hope y’all have a beautiful rest of you day 🩵

Tagging @atiny-piratequeen @jacksons-goddess-gaia @kimnamshiks @atiny-dazzlinglight @thelargefrye

[mneiai]

new asoiaf fic, help me decide on something???

I have an idea for an ASOIAF/Dance era crossover (with some HOTD influence because they fill in a few gaps and there's a handful of things they did right/I did like better). It was vaguely inspired by my drabble through time and some of the theories about Vhagar/a dragon's personality/abilities.

It is a Jon goes back in time/becomes Daemon Targaryen's son AU. I can't decide what year I want him born in, though.

Jon "wakes up" when Maegon Targaryen (Daemon was being an asshole when he chose the name) claims Cannibal, so there's a whole life before that and the time period will affect what is happening on Dragonstone/why he's there/what he can do.

So, the possibilities are as follows (I started writing as if it was the first one, but that's easy enough to change, except that I want to write more and am now stalled lol):

Firstly, what stays the same:

-Maegon is Daemon and Rhea Royce's trueborn (and only) son.

-Maegon is far more even tempered than Daemon, and broods instead of lashing out. His crib egg doesn't only not hatch, it seems to start turning to stone just from being near him. Despite looking Valyrian, many people suspect he's not much of a Targaryen (something Daemon hates, but many others see as a good thing).

-He has a contentious relationship with Daemon because of Daemon's hatred for his mother and long absences. The King adores Maegon and Rhaenyra cares for him.

-After not having a dragon for at least a decade, he goes to Dragonstone and is basically pounced on by the Cannibal, at which point Jon Snow gets shoved into Maegon's head.

If Maegon is born 100/101: 

-Born just before Rhea becomes Lady of Runestone, helping to solidify her claim as she has a male heir. And before the Great Council, which technically gives Viserys two male heirs.

-He’d be closer to Rhaenyra’s age/a childhood companion, Daemon would think he was Viserys’ heir still for a time and that Maegon would therefore one day be King (makes Daemon getting passed over as heir harder/more insulting).

-Daemon would take him to the Red Keep often to show off his male heir (possibly seen as a motivation for Viserys to be so desperate for a son). Maegon would be used more as a tool than a son by a less mature Daemon, but if it weren't for fear of Daemon gaining influence through him, Maegon would have been betrothed to Rhaenyra.

-He would claim Cannibal when Rhaenyra first moves to Dragonstone in 113 (this would basically mean no needing to finagle the timelines and that Jon could stop some of the worst stuff that happens, but maybe that's too good of timing lol).

-He’d have a dragon to go back and forth to Runestone, especially after his mother’s death when he is old enough to immediately be lord.

-He would be a Black. Could help Rhaenyra with Laenor and keep her sons looking Valyrian. Would also possibly influence her to put more effort into being the heir/keeping power in the Red Keep, or staying in the Red Keep himself to advocate for her. They’d both resent the Greens, as even if Maegon had come to terms with Rhaenyra being heir, he definitely wouldn’t come to terms with Aegon being heir/king instead after his father and he were passed over.

If Maegon is born 106: 

-After the Mysaria/dragon egg stuff and Rhaenyra being declared heir, when Daemon is arguably at the height of his resentment for Viserys. He just lost a child to miscarriage so it may also feel like an insult that the gods gave him a healthy son with someone he hated. Possibly also some self-hatred for knowing this could have surely made him official heir if he hadn’t pushed Viserys’ hand.

-Daemon will spend Maegon’s early childhood in the Stepstones, so less influence over his life. Maegon will be more of a peer to Aegon than Rhaenyra, and could have a positive impact on him (or could be more manipulated by the Greens). He might spend time at the Red Keep at Viserys’ behest instead of for Daemon’s manipulations and see it as a second home.

-He would claim the Cannibal during Rhaenyra’s marriage to Laenor, maybe just after his mother dies/his father goes off with Laena in 115? This would makes him about a year younger than Aemond would be, possibly increase Aemond’s desperation for a dragon, since he’d soon be older than even Maegon was if he doesn’t claim one.

-Daemon might try to demand regency over Runestone, creating even more of a wedge between them (Maegon may also suspect Daemon of murdering his mother). Having an actual regency will allow Maegon to still be around Dragonstone/King’s Landing for the next few years without many issues, so he’d be around for Rhaenyra’s first few children’s births/early years.

-He’d be a Black…at least until Rhaenyra married Daemon, at which point she may lose his support.

If Maegon is born in 111:

-Daemon goes to Runestone before returning to the Stepstones after unsuccessfully trying to win Rhaenyra’s hand. He is in the Stepstones when Maegon is born, perhaps Rhea’s message to him was “lost” so he didn’t even know she was pregnant (who would blame her for not wanting him around...Daemon, Deamon would). Possibly Rhea even names him Jon and Daemon renames him Maegon (otherwise, possibly a Runestone tradition not to name a child until they're one).

-Daemon’s hatred for her increases even more and maybe he believes Maegon was “ruined” by his first year or so of life being raised by a non-Valyrian when Maegon does not seem enough of a dragon. Maegon also represents the missed opportunity of a child with Rhaenyra. 

-After his mother’s death, is sent to the Red Keep at Viserys' request and most often spends part of the year there and part of the year in Runestone. Maybe Alicent becomes something like a second mother. He is raised by his regent and some of the other Vale lords to suspect his father of murdering his mother and resenting Daemon for trying to take lordship of Runestone when he never spent any time there.

-Maegon is also very much a contemporary of Alicent’s children, perhaps close friends with Aemond (who shares his lack of a hatched dragon and shitty Targaryen father) when Alicent accepts that he has little of Daemon within him (and unlike Rhaenyra's children, is "obviously" not a bastard)

-He would certainly be there during the funeral trip when Aemond claims Vhagar, perhaps even with Vhagar/keeping Joffrey quiet without hurting him so that the fight never happens and Aemond never loses his eye. Either Maegon might take Aemond’s side when others criticize him for claiming Vhagar (since there was no big fight, Aemond is only at “fault” for that) or he envies Aemond too much for having finally gotten a dragon and pulls away from him.

-Claims Cannibal in 120, going to Dragonstone in desperation after Aemond claims Vhagar, with plans to claim Vermithor. Could possible delay Daemon and Rhaenyra’s plans for a secret marriage (and possibly make Aegon the Younger obviously conceived before marriage).

-He’d probably be a Green, basically he's been raised by Daemon's worst enemies, but maybe astute enough not to show it

[lya-dustin]

I posted 891 times in 2022

That's 891 more posts than 2021!

58 posts created (7%)

833 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@dwellordream

@sansaorgana

@catherinesboleyn

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I tagged 99 of my posts in 2022

#aemma velaryon - 41 posts

#house of the dragon - 29 posts

#someone will remember us fic - 29 posts

#asoiaf fanfic - 27 posts

#asoiaf au - 21 posts

#oc fanfiction - 20 posts

#fyeahhotdocs - 18 posts

#aemond targaryen x velaryon!oc - 17 posts

#asoiaf - 13 posts

#hotd - 11 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#and aemond probably spent like a whole hour on just his hair and has a morning routine that patrick bateman from american psycho would envy

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I think they made Alicent Hightower be a brunette in HoTD instead of going with her almost Targaryen look in Fire and Blood to remind the audience that Rhaenyra's type are brunettes she can't have.

23 notes - Posted November 20, 2022

#4

Someone will remember us

Gif by @daenerys-stormborn

Chapter 1

@sansaorgana i wrote it!

She looks more like her aunt Laena than her mother, she thinks.

Thick silver white hair, the pale eyes of her mother, and the dark skin of her father.

Aemma Velaryon has always been her father’s favorite, just as her mother, Rhaenyra, is King Viserys’ favorite.

It’s because you are his firstborn, just as I am my father’s firstborn, her mother would answer when Aemma would ask her why her father, Laenor, liked her best out of his four children.

After Viserys, Rhaenyra will be queen and after Rhaenyra it will be Aemma.

Aemma wonders if her heir will be a girl too.

She has a dragon, Elēnar, tide. Elēnar has silver scales like her father’s dragon, but hints of Syrax’s gold. Reminded Aemma of their hair, so much that she calls him Ōghar, or Ghar.

Ghar is a little thing, barely a year old and small like a dog. he will grow, grow big enough to ride soon enough, but he doesn’t grow fast enough for Aemma’s tastes.

If only the dragon had hatched sooner, she sighed as turns to look at Hel who doesn’t even blink as she sketched Ghar curled up in the fire he lit in the fireplace. Looks like a shiny glass figurine sleeping the morning away.

“You will never ride the tide, but you will ride the smoke of the sea.” Helaena broke her out of her thoughts as Aemma daydreamed of flying Ghar far away like her Aunt Laena who seems to have all the fun.

“If you say so, auntie.” Aemma doesn’t look up from her book even when she hears the all too familiar sounds of Queen Alicent and the Head Smasher coming here. It’s the soft click clack of her heeled shoes and the noise of heavy armor trailing at a respectful distance behind her.

Father has told her to be wary of Ser Criston, he is not a true knight. He won’t say why, but Aegon had said deep in his cups that Criston Cole had smashed the head of father’s friend, Joffrey Lonmouth, at the wedding of Aemma’s parents.

Her mother had confirmed the tale and now her father was looking for a suitable knight to be her sworn shield. Qarl Correy had only sisters and made her laugh, didn’t treat her like she was simple or annoying and her father liked him too.

He would do nicely.

“Should I go, Hel?” Aemma asked her best friend who shook her head. If Aemma was here, then Alicent wouldn’t try to invade Hel’s space or try to show affection with touch or do anything that makes her feel strange.

“Your grace,” Aemma gets up from her window seat and curtsies like her Septa had taught her.

There is no need for ceremony here, they are ‘family’ whatever that means. Or at least that was what Grandfather Viserys had said and Grandmama Rhaenys agreed with him. Grandfather Coryls had laughed and told her she shouldn’t curtsy to the queen when she didn’t have to.

Don’t be rude, that had been mama’s order when she found out, Curtsy to her even in private.

Or else the Head Smasher will get you, Aegon had whispered when Queen Alicent told her mother she was not being proper by not standing to greet her.

“How has your morning been, girls?” Alicent is nice most days, has her bad days. Most of those are caused by grandfather or Aegon.

“Quiet, Elēnar Ōghar ate a mouse and has not woken up from his morning nap. I am sketching him to see how long it will be when he is too big to fit there.” Helaena answered and got back to her sketch the moment her courtesies were over.

Ghar is the size of a lap dog, grows more the less time he spends in the dragon pit, Harwin says that Ghar needs freedom to grow, not a cage.

“Dragons belong in the Dragon Pit, girls, it isn’t a lapdog.” So, this was one of those bad days.

“He gets lonely there, grandfather said I have his permission to have him in the keep as long as he behaves himself, lady grandmother.” Aemma defended her little dragon. Maybe if Ghar bows to her like she taught him Queen Alicent will be in a better mood and let him stay. “But if it please you, lady grandmother, I will take him back there.”

Aemma whistled to Elēnar who huffed in annoyance and shook off the ash as he left his nest of applewood. “Pay your respects to the Queen, Ōghar.”

“Thank you, Aemma,” Alicent hid her fear well, but Aemma knew she was scared of dragons, even little baby ones like Ghar.

See the full post

27 notes - Posted October 25, 2022

#3

Someone will remember us

Rated: T (for now)

Tag: @sansaorgana @ocappreciationtag @stargaryenx

Or in which Laenor and Rhaenyra were able to keep their agreement resulting in Princess Aemma Velaryon, the second ruling queen of Westeros

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

39 notes - Posted October 25, 2022

#2

"If Daemon were there ---"

Why does Daemon have to be there?

Laenor will be the one holding the baby while Rhaenyra beats the fuck out of Alicent. Rhae Rhae doesn't need Daemon's running from commitment ass to defend her from her ex girlfriend/stepmother

60 notes - Posted September 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

You know that scene in Easy A where Olive and the gay friend pretend to have sex at a party and really they were just jumping on the bed and faking noises?

Yeah that's how i imagine Rhaenyra and Laenor faked their sex life during the entirety of their marriage

106 notes - Posted September 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[tegami-kagami]

Robb Stark Fanfic Idea

Time Travel AU with a twist

I've been wanting a "Robb Stark time travels to before King B comes to winterfell" fic but so far, though there is a famous fic of that premise, I have not found one that actually follows Robb. So I thought, why not just brainstorm my own.

Disclaimer though: I don have the time to write so this will just a plot construction essay.

Normal Time Travel fics has the main character waking up in the past (commonly for unexplained reasons to be revealed in later chapters or never at all) and use their future knowledge to change upcoming events. While that is interesting, its too predictable and not dramatic enough for me, especially since I've read a lot Time travel fics featuring Jon and having Robb be the MC instead would still open a very similar premise to those with Jon as the butterfly changes would still come from Winterfell.

So my idea would be Robb going back in time after his death in the Twins with all the memories he has of his first life. The twist is, it would not be as a Stark in Winterfell but as child from one of the other main Westeros houses

Here is how it will go;

It starts off with Robb Stark in his 1st life. He is the King in the North, the Young Wolf, War Prodigy and the eldest son of Eddard Stark and Catelyn Tully.

In this original timeline, Robb Stark meets his untimely end in the Twins where House Frey had colluded with House Lannister and House Bolton to massacre Robb and his household which would then mark the end of the "War of the 5 Kings". This act would eventually be called the 'Red Wedding' but Robb would not be alive to see it as he died in the feast hall with 4-5 of arrows on his body and a knife plunge into his chest by Roose Bolton himself.

Amongst the souls of his Ancestors, Robb would awake and meet a giant she-wolf who greets him and offers him a deal. She would offer him a 2nd chance at life. Another chance to go back in time and right the wrongs of his 1st life, to save the family he was unable to save.

Robb would ask what is the price he has to pay. He figured the she-wolf was an emissary of the old gods and Robb was taught that for every miracle from the Old gods, there is always a price to payed. The She-wolf replies, "You're house."

Confused, Robb asks the she-wolf to clarify.

The she-wolf says that Yes, Robb would be able to live again. Near the year be was born with all the memories of his first life intact but in this 2nd life, Robb would no longer be a Stark. Fate will choose another family for him and it is in that household that he will grow up again. The price is Robb's position in House Stark. If Robb chooses to accept this deal, Robb Stark, the First born and heir of Eddard Stark will not exist and will never have existed."

Robb was conflicted but he knew, deep down, that he could not pass up another chance to right the mistakes he made. As far as he knew, Bran, Arya and Rickon were dead, Jon was a sworn brother of the night watch, Sansa was married to a Lannister and with his death, so too did House Stark. With this 2nd chance, House Stark would live again, even if its without him. His brothers, sisters, mother and father would be whole and alive again in Winterfell. Though pained that he would no longer be apart of that family, Robb decides the sacrifice is worth it and accepts.

Thus with power of the Old Gods of Westeros, a new timeline in the asoiaf universe is created where Robb Stark never existed and House Stark gets another chance to play the game of thrones.

Ok. So that is the premise

Now the real excitement begins in choosing which household Robb can be reborn into.

(A) Baratheon - Robert & Cersei's unnamed firstborn

(B) Lannister - a bastard son of Jamie or Tyrion

(C) Arryn - Lysa and Jon's trueborn son

(D) Martell - little brother to Arianne

(E) Tyrell - twin/brother to Marguery

(Note: Edmure isn't old enough in 283 AC to have a child so Tully is disqualigied and Robb being Greyjoy would just lead him back to Winterfell so that house is also disqualified)

Any Robb fan out there that wanna brainstorm ideas with me for this premise?

[tenebris-lux]

Boy, am I late to the party. No—no, late is one thing. This party has been over for years, the house renovated, and most of the guests have either changed zip codes or grew up and had families. Still ... I played Portal & Portal 2 myself a few months ago, instead of watching other people play it (years ago), and somehow it sucked me in like ... well, like that thing that happens at the end of the second game. Holy cow, I was not expecting to have this kind of reaction to something I already knew the story of. Totally different experience playing it yourself.

And now here I am browsing the remains of the Portal fandom. Mainly focused on one chatty character and the various incarnations he shows himself as within the fandom. I don’t know how long it will last, but I can’t seem to get enough. It’s a bit saddening to think of what I missed—deleted fanart and fanfiction. Which wouldn’t be so bad, but I keep running across old links leading to “There’s nothing here” or some such. What teasing!

I’ve read “Blue Sky” by waffleguppies—first Portal fanstory I read, starting big—and DAMN, I was crying near the end. That really got the ball going into the journey. Also saw the comic of the story, which is REALLY impressive, continuing through the whole damn story all the way to the end. Kept going over chapter 9 again and again, cuz it’s my favorite part—all of it.

Also read “The Punishment” by conquerorwurm. One would think I’d learned by now being a fan of ASOIAF and Kingkiller to not get into really good unfinished works, yet here I am.

Explored bonkalore’s old art of Wheatley—my god, what inspiration. Leaves me starving for a full epic read of those incarnations. But there doesn’t seem to be one... ;_; (pretty fascinated with NB in particular; hope everything worked out with the parties involved).

Read several stories by Lacey, Renegademechanic, and vargrimar, and saw lots of fantastic fanart by pinali as well as many others.

Unfortunately, I seem to have missed a lot of short stories by momo. Some of their stuff is on ff.net, but it sounds like there were a TON more, which I’m sorry to have missed; they sounded highly recommended.

Also today browsed the whole thebestPM AU. Which was interesting. I’m glad I could laugh at it, cuz RL last several years have been politically traumatizing. But then I read some backstory into the character and it just made me sad for him. Futilely sad. And for the first time, not a fan of “Caro” in the slightest. “Sentinel” broke my heart.

Boy, this got really rambly. Haven’t properly blogged in a long long time. Also new to tumblr.

But anyway. Long story short—somehow crazy obsessed with Portal fandom.

[selkiewife]

@the-king-andthe-lionheart​, thanks for your questions and comments! It was easier for me to create whole new post because this got long, so I’ll respond to your questions on my post here.

cw/tw: This post contains description of rape and sexual assault, and discussion of seizures.

First, it’s important for me to reiterate that even if Sansa is not being triggered, she still has every right to reject unwanted touch from Sweetrobin.

But the reason I got the impression that Sansa was being triggered by the touching of her breasts is because she has experienced sexual trauma related to her breasts being touched or exposed at least three times before Sweetrobin nuzzles her there. First, as Joffrey is having her beaten in front of the court, he orders Boros to strip her naked:

Boros shoved a meaty hand down the front of Sansa's bodice and gave a hard yank. The silk came tearing away, baring her to the waist. Sansa covered her breasts with her hands. She could hear sniggers, far off and cruel. "Beat her bloody," Joffrey said...

On her forced wedding night she is asked to strip again:

She kept her eyes on the floor, too shy to look at him, but when she was done she glanced up and found him staring. There was hunger in his green eye, it seemed to her, and fury in the black. Sansa did not know which scared her more." You're a child," he said. She covered her breasts with her hands. "I've flowered."

Then when she is told to get into bed:

She had started to pull up a blanket to cover herself when she heard him say, "No." The cold made her shiver, but she obeyed. Her eyes closed, and she waited. After a moment she heard the sound of her husband pulling off his boots, and the rustle of clothing as he undressed himself. When he hopped up on the bed and put his hand on her breast, Sansa could not help but shudder. She lay with her eyes closed, every muscle tense, dreading what might come next. 

Then after she has escaped King’s Landing with Little Finger, Marillion, the singer, attempts to rape her. 

Sansa jerked away from him, frightened. "If you don't leave me, my au—my father will hang you. Lord Petyr."

"Littlefinger?" He chuckled. "Lady Lysa loves me well, and I am Lord Robert's favorite. If your father offends me, I will destroy him with a verse." He put a hand on her breast, and squeezed. "Let's get you out of these wet clothes. You wouldn't want them ripped, I know."

So when Sweetrobin climbs into her bed and nuzzles against her breast, I do think that it triggers her. As she describes:

She would not have minded if he only slept, but he was always trying to nuzzle at her breasts.

We understand why he is doing it and so does Sansa- even though he is eight, he’s still weaning since Lysa was still breastfeeding him and she died so suddenly. Sansa knows he is only looking for comfort. But at the age of thirteen, Sansa has already had three traumatic incidents related to unwanted touching or displaying of her breasts (two of which happened when she was only twelve.)

TWOW Spoilers: It sickens me just talking about this as well, but Arya is also groped at the age of eleven in the Mercy chapter of TWOW. So I completely agree with you that Arya is going through the same kind of abuse and traumas as her sister. At the time she cares for Weasel, I don’t think she has been touched in this way (I may be wrong.) But even if she wasn’t and didn’t have any sort of trigger, I would still not judge Arya to be “unmotherly” or lacking compassion if she rejected a touch from Weasel there or anywhere else on her body.

Speaking of Weasel, I did not say that Arya’s situation was any less traumatic than Sansa. And I totally agree, Arya is on the run, starving, traumatized, and hunted. I also did not intend to say Weasel herself was any less traumatized than Sweetrobin. I do believe that it is kind of ridiculous to compare traumas anyway and obviously it is just not right to do that. However I do think that Sweetrobin may be more difficult to care for than Weasel at baseline. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have thought to compare which child was harder. But it was Sansa’s care of Sweetrobin that was being called into question, not Arya’s. So I did start to compare how difficult each child would be to care for when thinking about why Sansa reacts to Sweetrobin the way she does sometimes. 

So it was intentional when I said that I think Sweetrobin is arguably harder to care for than Weasel, just objectively speaking, for a number of reasons. I also said arguably, because you could argue the opposite- that Weasel is harder. Or say they are equally hard. I mean, Weasel is tough to deal with as well. She cried so much she was called “the crying girl” before she got the nickname Weasel and she even kicked Hot Pie once I think. And she also has that habit of eating mud. And even Gendry complained that she was slowing them down (Isn’t it interesting how the fandom never calls Gendry’s fathering skills into question even though he would have willingly abandoned a traumatized child?) 

But one reason that I personally think that Weasel is easier to care for is because she is more likable than Sweetrobin and less demanding. Although this may be just my own feelings as a reader (which are subjective), Weasel was endearing to me immediately in a way that I didn’t feel with Sweetrobin at first. Now I know that might sound harsh, but I think that GRRM writes Sweetrobin to be off-putting purposely and I will explain why later. He does that with a lot of characters. Sansa for one, but also Theon, Jaime etc... there are a lot of characters in asoiaf that you are set up to dislike at first, before coming to understand and root for them later. I think Sweetrobin is one of those characters. And I think Sansa feels similarly toward him- gradually bonding with him instead of instantaneously. 

And we know Arya seems to like Weasel immediately. She even chooses “Weasel” as one of her aliases later in her arc and she tends to pick names of people she loves. I also think Weasel and Arya have a lot in common. They are both resilient, traumatized little girls on the run you know? I loved that out of the whole group they were the only ones unafraid to eat bugs when they were starving (these poor children!) And so, I feel like Arya could identify with her in a lot of ways.

Whereas I think that Sansa takes longer to bond with Sweetrobin because it is more complicated with him for a couple of reasons. For one, even before the trauma, Lysa has been raising Sweetrobin to be a spoiled brat. He is also emotionally stunted as a result of the way Lysa has kept him isolated and coddled. And even though I don’t think that Sweetrobin really understands what is happening when he is so gleeful about making people “fly” through the moon door- it’s still a little chilling and off putting. 

A specific reason that I think Sansa doesn’t immediately warm to him is that even before she meets him, Lysa intends for them to wed each other. Sansa has just left a traumatizing marriage into the Lannister family and the last thing she wants is another forced marriage right now. As Lysa instructs her:

“He likes to play hopfrog and spin-the-sword and come-into-my-castle, but you must always let him win. That's only proper, don't you think? He is the Lord of the Eyrie, after all, you must never forget that... My son will have a grateful and obedient wife.”

Sweetrobin, at first, symbolizes another unwanted, forced marriage to Sansa. So she might have an initial aversion to him just because of this. And I stand by my original assessment that this does make the situation with Sweetrobin more fucked up than Weasel. Weasel represents a frightened, traumatized child to Arya. Whereas Sweetrobin represents a traumatized child as well, but also a possible future husband that Sansa would have to be “grateful and obedient” to. Of course that changes once Lysa dies- but it is still the way she was introduced to him. And Robert still talks about marrying her in TWOW. We know that it is just a sweet crush from a little boy- but again, even the sweet things he does is sometimes off putting to Sansa because it is related to her trauma. Not to mention the fact that she is only caring for him because his mother tried to murder her. And she is dealing with misplaced guilt since Baelish ended up murdering Lysa after that incident. So Sweetrobin is intricately linked with her trauma.

And then his behavior in general is tough to deal with. None of it is his fault, but it still tough nonetheless. He is given to temper tantrums, throwing his chamber pot and bowls of food at people, and he is very petulant- and this was part of his character even before Lysa was murdered. He kind of reminds me of Colin from The Secret Garden. Like, it’s not his fault he is a spoiled brat, but he does start out like that.

He also has health issues and seizures. Obviously this is not his fault, but Sansa doesn’t have the necessary training to deal with his seizures or know the appropriate thing to do when he is having them. Sansa gives him sweetsleep so that he doesn’t have a seizure on the way down the mountain. As you said, she has no idea it could lead to his death and the side effects seem to be way less of a threat than him having a seizure and falling to his death. She is not a maester and doesn’t know the true effects of what she thinks is a medicine. Maester Coleman is the one who knows how harmful it is. And as the actual adult in the situation, he should either clearly tell her “hey, this will kill him,” or intervene himself. 

She has also been injured while trying to help him during a seizure:

Alayne turned to soothe the little lordling, but too late. The fit was on him. A pitcher of milk went flying as his hand caught it, flailing. When he tried to rise he knocked his chair backwards and fell on top of it. One foot caught Alayne in the belly, so hard it knocked the wind from her. 

And it’s worth mentioning that she never complains specifically about these incidents because she knows it is not his fault at all. That is it just part of his illness. She never complains about him at all actually to his face or to others- she is always sweet and soothing. The only reason we know of her frustrations at all is because we can read her thoughts. Which is similar to Arya who is bothered by Weasel’s crying as well but always defends her against the others who are complaining. 

But I think that Sweetrobin is purposely set up to be a difficult child to care for- because, as I said in the original post, Sansa is on a learning arc. She is learning to care for him (And I think she does an excellent job, personally.) Whereas, Arya’s relationship with Weasel is set up to reveal her compassion, her leadership skills, and ability to stand up for people (like when Gendry wants to leave Weasel behind.)

I agree with you that Sansa represses a lot of Little Finger’s machinations due to her trauma. But I don’t think she knows that Sweetrobin is being poisoned. I think she buys Little Finger’s story that Robert will die because of his health issues. And even then, I think she hopes for the best. Why else would she want to make him stronger and brave? Why else would she hope for a kind wife for him one day, if she was knowingly poisoning him? It doesn’t make sense. But I do think that GRRM leaves some things purposely vague so that it creates suspense. Will she realize he is being poisoned in time? If she does, will she try to save him? I think she will but that is probably one of the reasons he made Sweetrobin so difficult for Sansa specifically. To plant that seed of doubt in the reader. Like we know Arya would do anything to save Weasel. That’s a no brainer. But would Sansa save Sweetrobin? I think yes, and I will write a longer post about this at some point. But regardless, her initial complicated feelings toward him does serve to create narrative suspense.

Anyway, thanks for the questions and sorry that my explanation got so long. I hope you don’t take what I said, comparing Sweetrobin to Weasel, as me saying anything bad against Arya. It breaks my heart when I think of the trauma she has survived and is currently going through as well. And there are definitely many situations where she is dealing with things that are objectively harder than Sansa as well. And like I said, this is just my opinion of the two different childcare plots. 

And also, this may be controversial, but I think Arya absolutely did the right thing when she slapped Weasel to get her to move out of the battle. She needed to do whatever she could as a ten year old child trying to save a toddler’s life! Like seriously, if I were Weasel’s mother I would never be like “why did you slap my child?” I’d be like, "thank you for saving my child!” But like I said, I probably wouldn’t even have tried to compare the difficulty of the two situations had it not been for the initial comparison in the discourse. 

[rainhalydia]

D, I, K, J, Q, R, W? :D

Thanks, darling!

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t.

For Les Mis, I can’t like any other ships involving Enjolras and Grantaire except for Enjolras x Grantaire. I wish I liked them even a little bit because it would really enjoy the range of fic I’d like to read, but alas, their journeys are too connected for me to want anything else.

For Teen Wolf, I wish I liked Alison x Lydia more. I liked their friendship, and Lydia certainly cared deeply about Alison, but it irked me that Alison never bothered to warn Lydia about the third season treat.

For Asoiaf, Thramsay, because the crowd seems super chill and the fics seem amazing, but I just know I won’t really enjoy them even if they’re high quality. Also any Robb ship that’s not Throbb.

I - Has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why?

No, because as soon as I get in a fandom and start looking for content, I also block anyone that has even the slightest annoying opinion. I’m not in fandom to hear how my faves are terrible, thank you very much. Even so, thanks to tumblr I’m never watching Star Wars.

K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?

For Les Mis, Grantaire. I love that he’s allowed to fail so badly even if we never hear about the repercussions. That’s an essential part of his arc, and it’s also one of the things that make me remember that Hugo was a professional writer, you know?

For Teen Wolf, Lydia. She has always had hidden depths, but with the actors coming and going from the show, her story grew and I liked where it went by the end. I especially liked how her relationship with Jackson was handled.

For Asoiaf, Theon. Best arc in the series, best words GRRM has ever written.

J - Name a fandom you didn’t think about until you saw it all over Tumblr. (You don’t have to care about it or follow it; it just has to be something that Tumblr made you aware of.)

The Untamed, Good Omens, The Witches, The Magnus Archive... I’m only interested in watching one of them right now, but I feel I’ve learned most of them by osmosis anyway.

Q - A fandom you’ve abandoned and why.

I no longer care about Harry Potter. Thankfully it happened before all the JKR drama, and I’m including from her TERFdom to her amazing takes on twitter such as students pooping on the floor even though there are canonical bathroom in the school here, though one is more serious than the other. I simply wasn’t that impressed with the last book, I think I was outgrowing even her writing style looking back, but it didn’t help that my favorite characters were killed off. Also, the epilogue was deeply frustrating, not for the usual reasons fandom doesn’t like it...

That said, sometimes my brain gives me some random headcanons and opinions still, such as: Ron would be the popular one in a world where Voldemort didn’t exist.

R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?

Les Mis: Grantaire, Joly and Bossuet. That Grantaire rant where he lists Bossuet’s baldness as one of the causes for his hopelessness with the world is amazing. As are Joly’s and Bossuet’s reactions of just letting him rant to his heart’s satisfaction and then just changing the subject. Also love that part where Bossuet finds time to make a little joke about Grantaire sleeping on duty during barricade times.

Teen Wolf: My favorite friendship was Liam and Mason. It was just refreshing. They’re both highly underrated characters, actually, probably due to debuting when the show was alread past it’s prime, so to say.

Asoiaf: from what we actually see playing out instead of mostly being told, I think number 1 is Jon and Sam. I also ship them, but I love their friendship as well. Sam just brings out the best in Jon, which in turn explains why Sam thinks so highly of him and why he’s so shocked at the baby swap. Honorable mention to Arya, who will make friends with a rock if given the chance, though most of the time her “friends” don’t deserve her - the exception being Gendry, who’s her love interest anyway, and the sex workers in Braavos.

W - A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom.

I’ll read basically anything, but I’ve yet to find a fake relationship fic that I like. No, I lie, I liked @janiedean‘s fic where Throbb pretend to be engaged to rent a place. But that is a good reason to fake a relationship! Which is the secre to make this trope work! In fact, a list of good reasons to fake a relationship with the person you’re secretly in love with features things like:

- renting a place (like in the fic mentione above);

- getting a visa;

- getting a tax discount;

- pretending to be a couple to spy on people or countries;

- getting discounts on stupid things;

- adopting a kid that needs adopting asap.

Those are all things I’d love to read about! And I’m sure there are more reasons if we start to think about it, but you know what reason most fics I’ve seen on the topic pick?

- To get overbearing parents off the character’ back.

Now, that is a good idea in one specific situaton: when a gay character needs a beard. But somehow that’s never how it goes, so we’re left with people getting into fake relationships with their crushes even though the most obvious solution is to tell the parents to take care of their own damn lives!

Another thing that irritates me in this trope when authors pick the overbearing parent route: the whole thing is usually played for laughs. I hate that. If your relationship with yout parent is so bad that you’d rather fake a relationship rather than just make up a boyfriend/girlfriend, then this parent has to be a nightmare of a person! But most authors have no idea what it’s like to have an overbearing parent and it shows. So we end up with well-meaning, caring parents who would absolutely respect their offspring’s privacy and boundaries should they be stated. In short, not the kind of parents that give reason to fake an entire relationship.

I also dislike high school AUs on principle.

[rubberchickeny]

Jaime/Brienne prompt in ASOIAF (book) verse!

I wanted to stretch my writing muscles and do a prompt in the ASOIAF universe rather than GoT or mod AU. I likeblue prompted me with first kiss and defending honor, and I of course used the opportunity to write Hyle Hunt. If there is one thing I want from Winds, it’s to see how Jaime meets Hyle. 

And yes, the whole business of Lady Stoneheart is crammed into a couple of paragraphs. (Now there’s a writing exercise for you!

On with the show:

Honor and virtue

Ser Hyle Hunt was certainly aware of Brienne of Tarth’s journey through the Riverlands with the Kingslayer.  Ser Hyle had personally heard the given name of the Kingslayer come out of Brienne’s too wide mouth when her near festering cheek wound had her fevered and delusional.  The brotherhood without banners had called her the Kingslayer’s whore.

’Another case of Renly,’ he had thought. What else could he deduce when the said man was the handsomest in Westeros and the maid known far and wide as one of the ugliest. ’Brienne the Beauty’ they had called her, and Hyle had taken part, once. T’was nothing but the truth, after all. He did not think Lannister had had a true taste of her, but even if he had, that made no difference to him. Maybe another disappointment like that would sweeten the value of his proposal.

The proposal he had made to Brienne before they encountered the brotherhood had been a good, honest deal, for both of them. Hyle respected Brienne enough to not insult her with pretty words better used on prettier maids. Brienne knew the truth, and what Hyle was offering was amiable partnership. He would get to be the husband of the next Evenstar of Tarth, and she would gain the respectability of a husband and the freedom to keep wearing a man’s mail. Hyle had no interest in ruling over Tarth or over his wife; he was happy to be a consort and someday have his child rule Tarth.

The maid should appreciate his genuine offer of the marriage bed as well, Hyle thought. She wasn’t likely to get other, respectable offers. Ser Hyle was not bad looking, and he could tolerate her well enough. Of course the lady had not said yes yet, but Ser Hyle knew it was just a matter of time until she saw sense.

If she ever got the chance.

Ser Hyle had lost the track of time since Brienne of Tarth had left both Ser Hyle and her young squire to the hands of the brotherhood without banners and went to retrieve the Kingslayer. The maid was stubborn to a fault, but even Hyle had been surprised when she had been ready to let herself hang for the sake of protecting a Lannister. It was only the act of starting to hang Pod that had changed her mind. Sadly Podrick was not faring very well, but he tried to stay brave for his ”ser lady” that was coming back for them.

In hindsight Ser Hyle might have suspected, but the unpleasant truth was that while he didn’t see Brienne as entirely unbecoming, he found it impossible to believe a man like Lannister could find her comely.  A man like Jaime Lannister had to have had more than his fair share of offers, bound by oath to celibacy or not. Why would he be interested in a maid like Brienne of Tarth?

====

Jaime Lannister had known something was wrong when he let Brienne lead him away. The Wench could not lie to save her life, and as hard as she might try to feign it, Jaime could see she had been hurt badly, and the movements she made were unnatural and stilted. The first time she was forced to remove the dirty bandage off her cheek he had been shocked despite himself.

”That isn’t…is that a human bite, Lady Brienne?” he had asked, trying to appear calmer than he really felt.

 What had he send her to, and what all had been done to her? Had someone succeeded in that which many had failed, and gotten her virtue, as well? He didn’t want to risk hurting her more by asking, but he had to know if he had failed her in this, too. The memory of how much Pia had changed between his two visits to Harrenhal was still fresh in his mind, and he thanked the Maiden when Brienne finally managed to answer him no.

After a two days journey they finally reached their destination.

When Jaime saw what had once been Catelyn Stark and was now Lady Stoneheart, he was truly speechless for perhaps the first time in his life.  Life had been cruel to Catelyn and her family, and by the looks of her, death had been no kinder. This was not the high born lady that Brienne had served, but a cold, vengeful wraith set on bringing pain to everyone who had ever dreamed of hurting her or her family.

There had been an attempt at a trial, and it had not surprised Jaime when Brienne offered to be his champion in a trial by combat. Lady Stoneheart was spitting mad, wheezing that Brienne of Tarth had once been her sword and now she had given away her honor and virtue and loyalty for the likes of the Kingslayer.

The fight turned into a blood bath. If Lady Stoneheart’s own hadn’t turned against her, they both would have surely died. The one they called Thoros of Myr had changed the tide of the battle, and instead of dead on the battlefield, the Wench was now bleeding while an ill looking young boy tried to staunch the flow.

”So this is the Kingslayer. The man you were willing to let us all die for.”

The words came from another prisoner of Lady Stoneheart’s who had survived the chaos by joining the fight. He had brown hair and eyes, and a bleeding nose. Jaime found it impossible to tell if his nose had been as crooked and swollen before the fight broke out, as his overall appearance was quite battered.

The boy tending to the Wench’s wounds looked at the other man with clear anger coming off of him in waves.

“Ser—Lady Brienne came back for us. She saved you!”

“It’s fine, Pod,” Brienne calmed the boy down with a steady, heavy hand on his shoulder. The boy continued his work in silence, but seemed mollified.

The other man did not let down, however.

“I always knew you liked a pretty face, Brienne, but surely not Jaime Lannister.”

Jaime was getting enough of this man with no manners. “Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”

“I am Ser Hyle Hunt. I know the lady well.”

Jaime said nothing, waiting for Brienne to acknowledge the situation and explain her relationship to this insolent man.

She did not.

Ser Hyle continued, “I made a fair offer of marriage, but she would rather do the same as she did with Renly and just moon at your beautiful face from afar. Because that’s what will happen, Brienne.”

This was news to Jaime. Brienne looked embarrassed. Jaime knew of course of the three broken betrothals, but he had never much considered any new proposals coming her way. She was the future Evenstar, so naturally there would be many hedge knights ready to deal with much worse than her for a chance at that, even with the war raging on and the future of Tarth undetermined.

“You are speaking to a high born Lady, Ser.” Jaime ground out.

“I am speaking to the lady who the brotherhood called the Kingslayer’s whore. A roll in the hay is all you’re going to get from him, Brienne, when I’m the one—“

Suddenly Ser Hyle was down on the ground, holding his nose which was spouting fresh blood.

“Do not call him the Kingslayer in my presence ever again.” Brienne enunciated slowly, “Without him you would not be alive. He has never besmirched my honor, which is more than can be said for you.”

Despite the less than ideal circumstances Jaime felt quite pleased, but he could not let go of what the Wench had said.

“What do you mean he has besmirched your honor?”

Knowing Jaime and sensing the danger, Brienne refused to explain further, saying only that what was past was in the past. Still, Jaime wanted to make sure this Ser Hyle knew where he stood. He crouched over to Hyle and said quietly, “I better not hear of this again. I take care of what’s mine, and we Lannisters always pay our debts.”

As he got up, he continued, “You might start looking for another wench to woo. This one is spoken for.”

Ser Hyle all but sputtered as Jaime yanked Brienne close to his chest and kissed her, bleeding and all.

The kiss was intense; fierce but sweet just like the Wench herself, and if Jaime was lucky Brienne would not hit him for taking liberties on her person once they were done. Jaime could taste her blood but he did not mind; they were warriors and they were alive. In fact, it was kissing Brienne that made him feel so alive; like he was still a young man, a man who could do anything! Even become a better man.

Once they came out for air, Brienne did not hit him, but yanked him back and kissed him in turn. It was fumbling and glorious and gave him goose bumps all over.

If Jaime had had a thought to spare, he might have noticed Pod happily grinning at a sour looking Ser Hyle.

[growingstronglikeahighgardenrose]

A Fiery Wish

ASOIAF AU fic: A Fiery Wish

Jeyne Poole runs into the Brotherwood Without Banners on her way to the Boltons. Taking a leap of faith, she begs them for help upon seeing who she had once considered to be the most handsome man she’d ever seen: Beric Dondarrion. She is helped, but there’s a price to kindness. However, it’s one she’s willing to pay. 

Beric Dondarrion x Jeyne Poole

For @asoiafrarepairs​ “A weekend in the Stormlands”

Just like all girls with big dreams, Jeyne Poole had been told to be careful what she wished for.

Yet, having been raised on the same steady diet of fairy tales and courtly lessons as Sansa Stark, even though Jeyne was only a steward’s daughter, she couldn’t help but dream about a romantic future with a dashing lord.

But now, standing in front of a ditchfire some distance removed from a gnarled old Weirwood tree, Jeyne belatedly understood the lesson they had tried to instil upon her.

‘Now comes Jeyne of House Poole, a woman grown and flowered, of noble blood and birth.’

There was no one to give her away. But it was preferable to being given away by one of the guards Lord Baelish had sent with her, their deaths were the best wedding gift she could have hoped for in this bleak new world.

Poor papa, she mourned, I had always expected you to give me away and have a first dance with me on my wedding day. She comforted herself with the knowledge that her mama and papa would not want to witness this moment anyway.

‘Who comes forth to claim this woman?’ the red priest in the faded red robes asked.

‘I do, Lord Beric of House Dondarrion.’ She could see him coming to stand next to her from her peripheral vision. In the dark he was even more of a ghost, his whole body swallowed by the faded and torn black cloak with stars. The stars gleamed ever so slightly in the light of the fire.

Once upon a time, nothing would have delighted her more than to marry him. She’d professed her fiery desire to Sansa.

But that had been in summer, it was autumn now.

 x.X.x

Life was like the songs, Jeyne thought.

For a lovely couple of months, she’d been nothing short of happy. True, she was sad to miss Robb’s lovely face and gorgeous curls gleaming a dark red in the sunlight. But then in King’s Landing she’d gotten proper replacement in the form of Beric Dondarrion. Taller and older than Robb, and with hair an even brighter shade of red. In the sunlight, it reminded her of a flaming fire, and her girlish passions were quickly shifted towards the Lord of Blackhaven.

Now there was a real man awakening all kinds of female feelings within her.

‘Oh Jeyne he is handsome for sure, but I heard he is betrothed to Lady Dayne since a couple of years. Is there no unattached squire you would consider, or someone who’s part of an entourage?’ Sansa had asked her with all hesitancy and gentleness becoming of sweet friend. Jeyne had known the true meaning of her words though.

Yes, Beric Dondarrion was betrothed to another, but Sansa meant that Jeyne had set her sights too high. She didn’t mind though, she was young and in an exciting capitol she’d never even dreamed of visiting, she was fine with just dreaming about him.

The pink bubble of childhood had shattered with the prick of a needle, or rather a sword, a sword to Lord Eddard’s neck and another one in her father’s belly.

Life was not like a song, in the songs, the heroes win.

She’d paid dearly for those summer months and her own naivety with the blood of her father and her own dignity as Lord Baelish sent her to a brothel once all northernmen had been slaughtered. She saw things she never had expected to see. And did things she never wanted to do. Her cheeks had been stained with tears as she did them, but she had done them, until she did them well enough that Lord Baelish decided her education was complete. Her education was complete, but she felt dirty.

She didn’t feel like one of the princesses in the songs anymore. They had been good and pure and sweet. She was ruined, wary and weary.

He assigned her two men to return her to Winterfell. Sometimes she played the part of their sister, sometimes one’s wife, and sometimes their child. She didn’t look forward to returning home, news travelled fast on the Kingsroad. She’d heard about Robb and Catelyn activities in the Riverlands, Arya’s disappearance in Kings Landing and the deaths of the youngest Starks. They’d been no more than small boys when she left, she’d cursed Theon when she first heard about it. Sansa had never trusted them since Catelyn had never trusted him, and she in turn had never trusted the youth either.

She’d spent days thinking of ways to kill him, she’d seen enough death to know a couple of ways. She couldn’t even bemoan the loss of her sweetness and innocence, she’d lost it all so rapidly, and instead had come hate, fear and resignation. What home would she return to? There was none, she reasoned. She doubted Lord Baelish was bringing her home for her own sake, she hadn’t a lot of experience or knowledge, but she knew this much. There was only one reason why she’d been taught the things she was in a brothel before being sent to Lord Bolton. Baelish had a plan for her, and it didn’t include growing older until the war was over and her kin found a match for her.

Jeyne liked to believe she was no fool, she didn’t deny reality, but on the other hand there was no use to dwell on it, so oftentimes while on the road, she retreated to the realm of dreams, the only place where her life wasn’t miserable. In those dreams she dreamt of being saved on her way to the North by Lord Beric Dondarrion. She’d heard of his attacks on foraging parties in the woods. While on the road, she’d also heard of his deaths. She’d heard he’d been impaled by the Mountain, smashed with a mace, hanged by Ser Lorch, stabbed in the face by the Mountain and killed by Vargo Hoat. Each couple of weeks brought a new story of his death. She reasoned that the stories of his deaths had to be false, otherwise how could someone else claim to have killed him? On the other hand, reports were known to conflict, perhaps there’d been a battle in the woods somewhere, and everyone wanted to take credit for killing the hero who’d so bravely ended so many foraging parties. It didn’t matter to her, in her daydreams she created happy endings for the both of them.

So, on her trip to an uncertain destiny, expecting nothing but misery, she’d been shocked when their group was halted halfway through the woods by a band of criminals. They had to be criminals, she reasoned, they looked poor and dirty. The second they stopped, weapons were drawn by all. Her party was hopelessly outnumbered.

This was her death, she reasoned, she couldn’t even be very surprised or emotional about it.

That had been until a man slowly walked onto the middle of the road, previously hidden in shadows.

She recognized him immediately, even though he looked nothing like she remembered, time had removed every blemish and imperfection he had ever had from her memory, making the present version of him look all the more jarring.

His hair had grown to his shoulders, and the clothes which had without a doubt once looked magnificent were now worn through and stained with blood and dirt. He still wore his black shield and breastplate, though both carried holes.

How could they have holes of that size when he was standing there? Nothing could have pierced them without injuring him. He must have grown a lot better at fighting, if he managed to be attacked in such ways and walk away alive.

He had never been a broad man by any means, but was now a scarecrow. He must have been hungry often, she thought as he came to a standstill.

‘Have no fear, good people, we shall not harm you, we only seek money for our cause. Surely, you have some to spare. I swear it will go to food for the poor smallfolk, and the orphans we are housing’, he announced good-naturedly.

There was no recognition in his eye. The other was covered by dirty cloth. She remembered a story of how the Mountain had pierced it.

So that had been true, she noted. Upon consideration, did not the hole in his breastplate resemble the damage a lance would have made? He had fought the Mountain, but he’d survived. Jeyne remembered how he’d been unhorsed twice at the Tourney. A man who was unhorsed that easily would be knocked out by the Mountain in a minute.

He must have learned a lot while on the road, she mused. Before he had been but a young untried youth, experience had aged him, but the time had brought him experience and skill if he could now hold himself against the Mountain.

He might not remember me, but surely if he still defends the smallfolk and helps orphans, he will help me as well, she reasoned.

That minute she decided placing her fate in his hands was preferable to continuing her way to Winterfell. Perhaps she risked dying, but there were no guarantees awaiting her at Winterfell either.

‘Lord Beric’, she brought out. ‘I am pleased to see you alive, my lord.’

Confusion clouded his face, and she could feel her guards tensing. She had chosen wrong, but she could not go back now. She had chosen her fate.

‘Who speaks?’ asked a low voice before a man joined Lord Beric. He was skinnier than she remembered, and now had a thick grey beard, but he too wore some clothes she remembered.

‘Ser Thoros’, she greeted.

‘I remember your face,’ he admitted, a shine coming into his eyes, ‘but I cannot recall where I met you’, the red priest answered honestly.

‘My name is Jeyne Poole, I was in Kings Landing together with Lord Stark and his daughters.’

‘And finally on your way home. Kings Landing has turned traitorous, no doubt you will be glad to go home. Although, your entourage looks rather small, were the Northerners not with more?’

The men accompanying her could not hide the absence of Northern banners, and the lack of people could not be explained either. She knew he had already concluded something was up.

‘Actually, Ser, this is all that’s left of us. It is only me, the others, including my father, were killed. Luckily Lord Baelish was so kind as to send me back home with some of his fine men. Since I am their prisoner I cannot decide about giving you money, but perhaps if you ask them, they would not mind giving you some.’

The situation turned quickly. She could feel the press of a blade against her throat. The men closest to the carriage froze.

‘Let us go, or we will kill her’, her guard threatened.

They wouldn’t, she knew, because if they did not deliver her to the Boltons, Lord Baelish would see to it that they were adequately punished.

From between the trees, an arrow rushed past, and she could feel the impact through the blade and arms around her, before the grip of the guard slackened. He dropped dead. The other didn’t even have time to draw his sword before he was pulled from the cart by a tall burly man with a yellow cloak. The sickening wet crunch of an axe followed mere seconds after.

‘Thank you, my Lord, you are too kind, you can have as much of the money as you want’, she quickly said.

‘We help those in need, and we do not take kindly to pawns being played by the ruthless schemers of King’s Landing. However, my lady, this now leaves you without protectors while the roads to the North are treasonous’, the once handsome lord said.

‘There’s nothing for me in the North. I only wish to be safe. I cannot expect you to help me, but I would be forever in your debt if someone could bring me to a house loyal to the Starks. I will manage from there onwards, and I will sent money to you if I can.’

‘We are flattered by your kindness, my lady. If you don’t mind, we could take you to the Crossroads Inn to discuss your options.’

Having little choice, Jeyne nodded, and after the arms and clothes of her guards were distributed amongst what she was now introduced to as the Brotherhood without Banners, she followed them hither and was surprised to see it was the Bellringer Inn where she’d stayed on her way to King’s Landing. Just like they’d told, the inn was the home to many orphans who were being looked after by the innkeeper and his family.

Jeyne and Willow Heddle had grown a lot since she last saw them, and were now quite protective of the children. Despite her future being uncertain, she felt at ease for the first time in months during the two hours she spent there talking to the girls and playing with the small children. But then Thoros and Beric had come to her with an unexpected offer.

‘Here is the thing, my lady, you could do us a great service. Though admittedly it is a lot we ask of you. But we see ourselves forced to ask’, Thoros had announced. What followed was the most incredible conversation of Jeyne’s life.

They explained what they had been doing ever since Lord Stark had sent them on that mission about a year ago. They told her how they had been so preoccupied with their task, they had not thought about the future until recently. It had been decided that if possible, Lord Dondarrion had to marry quickly, to no matter which fertile lady of noble birth would be willing, since he was the only male Dondarrion. He had been promised years ago, but he could not go home to marry, and his present lifestyle did not guarantee he would live long enough to father children and continue his line.

Jeyne understood where the conversation was going, and reasoned that by taking his cloak, she would get the protection of his name, and would have a home in Blackhaven.

He was no longer the young dashing knight she’d dreamt of. Time had not been kind to him, but his hair was still red, his eye still blue, his nose straight, his manner dignified and courtly, she could do so much worse.

But as soon as she agreed, strong spirits were called for, and she was instructed to take two glasses with them before the conversation continued. But no spirits could have prepared her for the story that followed, as the red priest explained how children were by no means a certainty, even though that was the whole intention of the marriage.

And that’s when the last devasting blow came: Lord Beric had been mortally wounded five times, but had been revived by a magical kiss of the red priest each time. They did not know how the magic worked, they only knew he kept on coming back, though each time he seemed to lose a bit more of himself.

No wonder he did not recognize me, Jeyne thought, if he cannot even remember his betrothed or his home. She would marry to the corpse of the man who had filled her dreams. She took the third offered drink, and the fourth, before she concluded that it mattered not. Although no one, not even he himself knew how much of a man he still was, he was still more of a man than most.

They were married in a small local sept, and wedding certificates were signed by Jeyne, Lord Beric, the local septon, Ser Thoros and Edric Dayne who served as witnesses. The certificates were decorated with a wax seal Lord Beric had stamped his signet ring onto. Copies were sent to Winterfell, King’s Landing and Blackhaven, and another copy was kept in the sept. All would know the wedding had Dinner place.

Supper was had in the inn, before the party went out into the woods, where they knew there to be a Weirwood tree to honour Jeyne’s gods. While honouring her religion, the couple would partake in the wedding ceremony of the God of Light, as he had saved Lord Beric many times, it was deemed as necessary, lest they anger him.

 x.X.x

‘Lord Beric,’ asked Thoros, ‘will you share your fire with Jeyne, and warm her when the night is dark and full of terrors?’

Jeyne looked to him for a second. In the dark, from the side she was standing on, he still looked normal. He had bathed, and his hair looked soft and glowing. The gauntness of his face was shielded by his beard. The expression in his eye was gentle.

‘I swear it’, he promised with a comforting smile aimed at Jeyne. ‘I swear by the red god’s flames, I shall warm her all her days.’

She bit her lip. She doubted the statement. If he carried on like he had before, he would die again soon. How many deaths would it take him to forget her? After how many deaths would there be nothing to bring back?

‘Lady Jeyne, do you swear to share your fire with Beric, and warm him when the night is dark and full of terrors?’

‘Until his blood is boiling’, she promised, her hands nervously clutching her old cloak. She wondered whether she would have to work hard on making his blood boil to prepare him for their union.

Thoros nodded.

‘Very well. Then come to me and be as one.’

Lord Beric took her hand.

‘Are you ready, my lady?’

He turned to her fully, the scarred side of his face now in plain view, all unevenness highlighted by the unflattering light of the flames. She tried to smile, and strengthened her hold on his hand.

There were fates worse than this.

Side by side they leapt over the ditch.

‘Two went into the flames, one emerges. What fire joins, none may put asunder.’

She took his cloak as the brotherhood cheered. She wondered if their cheers were honest, or if they merely encouraged the awkward newlyweds out of tradition.

They returned from the woods, and were given one of the cosiest and warmest rooms on the third level of the inn. A decanter filled with white wine awaited her as she prepared for bed. She downed a couple of glassed as she recalled her experiences in the brothel.  They would serve her well. Her hands searched through the clothes Lord Baelish had sent with her. She didn’t know whose whore he had intended her to play, but the translucent shifts he’d given her would serve the purpose no matter whose wife she had become.

 x.X.x

  The marcherlord looked awkward as he entered their room. A piece of fabric had been tied around his eye and the pinpricks the mace had left on his head were covered by his hair. She didn’t even see the scar anymore.

‘Welcome, my lord.’

His eyes travelled to her as she sat upon the bed, hands stroking the soft sheets. They weren’t as soft as the ones in King’s Landing, but they were softer than the other ones she’d had on the road.

‘I haven’t slept in a bed for a long while’, he admitted. It sounded sad. She wondered if he could even remember it.

‘Well, I am afraid to inform you that I shall not sleep on the floor to accommodate your habits’, she decided with a smile before standing up to take his hand. It felt warm enough, and this heartened her.

‘Come and try for yourself, my lord. I believe myself to be familiar enough with beds to confidently give this one my seal of approval. It is quite soft, and does not appear to be plagued with fleas.’

He smiled at that, and allowed her to drag him to the bed.

‘I shall trust your judgement, my lady.’

‘Do you… Wish to…’ She didn’t know how to continue, and was struck with fear again.

‘I do not recall whether I’ve done this before.’

‘Perhaps… We could talk first?’ she offered. ‘So we are strangers no more.’

He agreed, and took off his boots before they laid down on the bed together, she sharing stories about what happened after Lord Stark’s death, and he sharing stories about his present life. After some time, she decided it was time to try and push them towards a union.

‘You know, I was quite attracted to you before’, she admitted with no little amount of blushing.

‘Were you?’ he asked in amazement.

She nodded, taking his hands. They were normal hands. She could see a faint scar running over his left, but they were warm and otherwise unmarred.

‘When I first saw you at the Tourney of the Hand, I believed myself to be quite in love with you already.’

‘I was betrothed back then.’

‘As you were hours ago, yet we married.’

He smiled sadly at that.

‘Your betrothal did not make you any less dashing. I heard many ladies whispering about you’, she continued. No man, not even one like him, could be anything but amused by such a notion, and Lord Beric appeared to be impressed that he once held such sway, as he recalled but little.

‘I sound like quite a heartbreaker.’

‘Oh you were,’ she admitted with a smile, ‘and you were quite cocky too. I once heard someone say that when a guard asked you whether you would participate in the tourney, you announced you had come to win it.’

‘Ah, as arrogant as I was handsome once’, he smirked.

She lifted his hands to her chest. Her heart was beating wildly. She shut down her thoughts when they started wondering about the state of his.

‘Oh quite. But you do not strike me as particularly arrogant now’, she complimented.

His eyes wandered to where his hands pressed against her breast. She could feel the air growing charged.

‘Perhaps one of the few, if not the only, upside to what I’ve been through. I’ve not bothered to look in a mirror lately,’ he confessed before pulling back his hands, ‘but I think I am still as handsome as I am arrogant. Am I not, my lady?’

‘Jeyne’, she breathed as she pushed herself up to her knees.

‘I know that Joffrey was as beautiful as he was arrogant, and he ordered to have all Northerners killed. I know Ser Loras is handsome but his courtesy is cold and his arrogance is great. Beauty is a great deal less important than character. And if the price of beauty is arrogance, I could live with a little less beauty. Even so, as you said yourself, you do not know what you look like. Perhaps I could tell you, Beric?’ she offered as she pulled him upright.

She would rather sleep with him while he had his clothes on. She didn’t want to see whatever his clothes hid from her after months of fighting and dying. Yet she knew she must disrobe him. And she must seduce him while undressing him, without looking horrified lest she ruin the mood.

You wanted to marry him, now you have him, you’ve even dreamt of this exact moment, she told herself, just pretend he is like you imagined him.

At the sound of his name, he came alive and sat upright. He was as hungry for knowledge about his previous life as he was scared of it. She knew she had to tread carefully.

‘When I first saw you at the Tourney of the hand, your hair was red like fire, with strokes of orange where the sun had lightened it’, she explained as she let her finger slip through his hair to hold a strand in front of his face. ‘it’s still the exact same colour. It was just a bit muted because you hadn’t washed it in so long’, she smiled.

‘Your frame was quite slim, as it is now’, she explained as she undid the belt from which a dagger hung.

‘You’re just a bit slimmer since you’ve lost weight travelling without resting or eating properly. Just like Ser Thoros.’

She unbuttoned his jerkin and pushed it over his shoulders.

‘You didn’t have a beard yet, it’s new, but it suits you. It’s quite befitting of a rugged man saving fair maidens in the woods. Like Ser Robin in the tales of yore’, she encouraged while stroking his beard. She pushed forward and hesitantly brushed her lips against his.

He was unresponsive for a couple of seconds, before he mimicked the movement of her lips. It felt weird and mechanical, but she wouldn’t allow that to stop her.

She moved her hands to his hair, pulling him towards her before she slung a leg over his to straddle him.

‘You’ve got your injuries, but I doubt many men will come out of these wars unscathed.’ She pressed her lips against his throat, rocking her hips slowly.

‘Out on the roads, I dreamt that a courteous knight would come to my rescue.’

‘I doubt I’m much like the knights in those tales.’

‘Are you not? You saved me from an uncertain fate, and you are constantly putting your life on the line for the smallfolk. You rescue children orphaned by war. You are still chivalrous, and you will not even ask for an annulment if we do not accomplish what we set out to do. While everyone out there is fighting for some grand lord, you are defending those who cannot defend themselves, and punishing those who deserve to be punished. They should make a song or two about you’, she complimented him. She meant it too.

‘I’ll let you in on a secret. I dreamt you would come to my rescue.’

His smile faltered as her hands hesitated to lift his tunic.

‘I don’t know how much of a man I still am, Jeyne.’

‘And I don’t know how much of a lady I still am, Lord Baelish stole a large chunk of my innocence. The war stole our lives, but if we lose our hopes, dreams and ourselves, the war will have won. I won’t let the war take who I am on the inside, and I won’t let it steal my dreams, not when it has already taken so much’, she proclaimed full of conviction.

She took his face between her hands, taking in every detail of his face, and committing it to her memory, pushing away all perfect memories. This would have to be her dream. This was the Lord Beric she’d gotten. The old Lord Beric would never have been hers. Her dreams had been broken, she had been broken, it was only fair she allowed him to be a bit broken too.

‘Let us pretend, within the walls of this chamber, our dreams were granted to us, and we both got our happy ending. You can be a man with me, I will always see you as one. I don’t know your betrothed, and I know I am not much, but I promise I shall try and be a good wife to you.’

‘My lady Jeyne… Jeyne, you are not little. You are one of the most beautiful young ladies I have seen that I can remember. You are brave, honest, sweet and true. I know any man would be glad to have you.’

She did not have to pretend so much when she kissed him then. She pressed her body against his, and let her hands roam over his clothes.

She tried to mimic what she’d seen other  women do to men, rocking their bodies against them and getting them roused by the touch of their hands.

Lord Beric finally stopped fighting, and put away his conflicted emotions regarding himself. He tried to answer her touches as well as she could, and she in turn responded to his actions as encouragingly as possible.

She didn’t know when it happened, only that by the time it did, she had grown near desperate, but she finally felt a twitch in his lap. She wasted no time pulling him down and under the covers with her.

She pulled at his final clothing pieces, and shoved her hand down to encourage what had started to grow.

Please, she begged, please work.

She did not know, even if they managed to complete the act, if they could get pregnant. But she tried not to dwell on it. Instead, her imagination tried to envision a small child with blazing red hair and piercing blue eyes. She clung to it, and noted with satisfaction they were close to perhaps finding out if that was a viable dream.

She guided him on top of her then, and gave him an encouraging smile.

He was warm against her, his arms solid. She took all the comfort from it she could. She hadn’t been held in a long time. And no one had been kind to her in a long time either.

Just one child, that’s all I ask for, a son. She prayed to the old gods that her wish was heard.

She tried to put all her feelings into her thrusts, all her wishes for children, her wishes for a loving marriage, her fiery wishes for him.

He’d been brought back to life by fire, and was then given to her, her burning desire answered.

She gasped for breath when she felt his hand travel south.

‘I… I remember’, he rasped. ‘Shouldn’t I?’

A lady shouldn’t answer, yet she did and begged him to continue. She’d never before found her own release, but now felt her belly burning, and she could even feel her own heartbeat down there.

A strangled moan escaped her lips before she could silence it. A wave of heat flowed through her, reaching every fingertip. She could feel her heartbeat throbbing everywhere now, as waves of pleasure wracked through her body.

The candles were dying one by one, and the light was burning low. The only thing she could see was the gleam of copper in his hair, the only thing she could hear the sound of his breathing, and the only thing she could feel was his body. There was no world outside, and for a while, her dream was real and tangible as she placed her hands on his back.

A sharp intake of breath awakened her, and her eyes zoomed in on his face before she felt it, the pulsing sensation between her legs.

It had happened. She’d tried to believe it would happen, but she was surprised all the same.

She wrapped her arms and legs around him, keeping him inside of her.

‘See, we can be normal’, she whispered as unshed tears burned her eyes.

She could feel his lips against his cheek and felt some wetness there, the tears had already escaped.

‘I wish I would forever remember this.’

‘You can,’ she said passionately, ‘you lose memories when you die. You can still fight for the cause while practicing more care… And by staying away from men ten times your size and strength. Please, think of me. Think of me often, and return to me as much as you can, as long as you can.’

‘I’ll try’, he agreed.

 x.X.x

They decided they would not wait to see whether their effort had paid off, and upon Jeyne waking up in the middle of the night and finding her husband awake, they started again, and once more in the morning.

He was slow to rise, as if his body had to remember it was in fact human and belonging to a man, but they managed to rouse his member three times, and successfully reached his climax twice before they left their chamber.

Thoros decided it was a goal well worth a few days, and so Lord Beric remained near the inn for two weeks, with him helping to rebuild houses for the smallfolk and Jeyne trying to teach the children to read and write during the day, and going to their chamber together at night. He was still awkward and stiff, though never anything but gallant. One day the red priest took her apart to enquire after her marriage, when she assured him she was perfectly satisfied, and hopeful, he confided in her that not too long ago, Beric Dondarrion had admitted to being resurrected so many times that he could not even remember his favourite food or the man who knighted him and being weary of it all. Jeyne had seen that weariness many times by then, as if he was still surprised to find himself alive each day, but she saw him smiling more often towards the end of their second week of marriage.

Perhaps he’d been so focussed on living for a goal, he’d forgotten to live for himself, Jeyne thought.

After two weeks, whatever fairy-tale Jeyne had been living in had ended, and goodbyes were in order. She didn’t allow herself to cry, but she presented him with a bouquet of forget-me-nots and an embroidered eye-patch with his coat of arms on it, ‘lest you forget’, she’d smiled. He’d given her a last kiss then, and departed. He made her no promises, and she did not get her hopes up on seeing him again. His lifestyle did not allow him to promise his own survival, and nobody knew how great the red magician’s fire magic was.

She kept herself useful and occupied, so useful she did not even notice the flurry in the courtyard when a couple of men of the brotherhood arrived until Young Jeyne called her. She quickly rushed downstairs with her to receive the news that her husband had bumped into a scrawny young kid and the hound. They would have taken them to a certain cave somewhere in the woods, but Lord Beric had decided to see his wife again, and wondered whether she could verify the identity of the kid. The men had travelled in advance to make sure there were no Lannister men currently residing in the inn before Lord Beric arrived with the Hound and the kid. Satisfied with the negative answer, they left again, and arrived not long after.

The man was the hound, undeniably, and she was shocked to see the “kid” Jack-Be-Lucky had been talking about. Her hair was short and shielded the round youthfulness of her face and the tell-tale grey eyes of House Stark, but one who grew up with her could easily see the girl was Arya Stark. She promptly forgot all the cruelness and hard feelings that had grown naturally between young girls with clashing characters having to live together, and cried out her name, running towards her and throwing her arms around her tiny figure.

She reeked and was so filthy she would need at least two baths before her skin became visible through the layers of caked dirt, but Jeyne’s joy could not and would not be reigned in. Arya, long believed missing, was alive and well.

‘Jeyne?’ Arya peeped, eyes warily taking in the older girl. She nodded with a smile.

‘That settles it then, your claims have been true Clegane’, Lord Beric decided as he dismounted his horse.

‘Told you’, the hound rasped. The look he threw her and Arya made her shiver, but she didn’t budge.

‘I take it you would both like a good meal’, Lord Beric offered.

‘Perhaps a bath first’, Jeyne supplied.

Both new guests sputtered, but begrudgingly agreed in the end.

She noticed Ser Thoros kept his eyes firmly fixed upon her that evening, and right as she was about to go to her rooms, he called for her.

‘Can you do your duty tonight?’ he asked gently.

Her cheeks burned red as she asked why she wouldn’t be able to.

‘Only that it would be natural for you to bleed perhaps, if you haven’t already.’

Jeyne froze and counted. And counted again. She’d had her flow a week before meeting the brotherhood without banners. She should have had them already. Should have had them weeks ago. She battled against the smile fighting its way to her face.

‘I still have to carry it to term, ser. Let us not celebrate. Many pregnancies are lost the first few moons. And I may yet lose my life before the nineth moon rises.’

‘Yet it is a good sign we even got this far, my lady. Perhaps you should tell your lord husband tonight.’

She did, and even though his face lost all symmetry as the wounded side tried to smile along with the good side, she could not but bring herself to feel joy at seeing him. A part of his face still made her fear, but she put those foolish fears aside. She made him swear to return to her, when he told her he would be going to the Twins.

‘No foolishness. No danger, no stupid sacrificing of your own life, understood? I rather want you to run than be slain. Your life is useful. If you run away you can help hundreds of others still, and be there for me.’

Months passed, and the fourth moon after her marriage, she could finally show him the signs of their successful union when he returned to the inn. Their reunion was not joyful though, as he brought the news of Lady Starks and King Robb’s deaths. They told her how they’d fished Lady Stark out of the river, and how Lord Beric had pleaded with Thoros to give her the kiss of life. But the man had refused, saying it had been too long. Beric had been mad with rage then, but gave the Lady the funeral the Tully’s had always given their own.

That had been the night she finally felt bold enough to lift his tunic, though she wished she hadn’t, because she could never have her ignorance back. Three deaths had been visible, although the second was always shielded by his hair and the bruises around his neck had been ignorable. But a lost eye was an average wound, and his thinness she could very well deal with, but the large ugly purple stitches where he’d been impaled by a lance and struck by a blade did look too awful to survive. It had been the starkest evidence that he should not have been alive.

She’d had nightmares that evening, wondering what effect his deaths and magical revivals would have and how it would affect their child.

‘I just… I always try to tell myself that all will be well, if I pray enough… but I can’t. I worry. I worry so much. I worry for you, for me, our child, my family, the world. I don’t know what powers there are in this world, all I know is that I do not underestimate the powers of the lord of light, but I fear. And I can’t help but fear. I dare not make plans, I dare not look at the future. But it’s so hard to live in an eternal present, when there’s a future within you’, she hiccupped as her hands cradled her belly.

‘I cannot promise you anything, nor shall I comfort you when I know all comforting words will be lies. But I promised to be there for you when the night is dark and full of terrors. I’ve seen those terrors, and I understand your fears. But let us pray, let us pray, that there is a merciful god out there’, he told her, cradling her belly with his own hands.

‘Please be safe. I want you to be safe.’

‘I want that too. I want to be in the future this little one is preparing for’, he admitted softly.

The lands became more quiet once the Starks were dead and Edmure Tully had been handed over to the Lannisters. The war seemed to move to the Crownlands. Although the Riverlands were still scorched and ruined, with bandits lurking everywhere, it was preferable to how it used to be. It also meant that her husband, who had died every two to three months before meeting her, had not died in the nine months he’d been with her.

But winter was coming, and a week after the first snow had fallen, she was placed on a boat.

‘I’ve never sailed before’, she admitted to her lord husband, who had been quietly watching her as she saw the shore growing smaller.

‘I can’t remember sailing either’, he admitted.

‘You’ll finally be home again.’

‘An image to attach to the name’, he nodded. ‘Blackhaven.’

‘You will like it, my lord’, Edric Dayne said.

‘It is a beautiful castle.’

‘As long as it proves to be a safe one’, he answered morosely.

Edric Dayne nodded.

‘You could keep it safe?’ Jeyne suggested softly, her gloved hand connecting with the cold one of her husband. He did not mind the cold. Did not even notice it.

‘You know I cannot. I have a duty. To the realm.’

‘No one else appears to have a duty to it’, Jeyne answered bitterly.

Life was not like a song, there were no real heroes, and justice did not win.

She had given up on her girlish fantasies, she now only wished to keep the few small dreams she had alive.

They were not much. She only wished to survive with Lord Beric, and deliver their child safely.

A dream of spring. A season in which all suffering and hardships became a thing of the past.

‘All the more reason for me to return. It is not that I do not care for you, my love. But we are but three, and they are many. It is selfish to only care for the three of us, if I can keep you two safe and take care of hundreds of others at the same time as well.’

He pressed a soft kiss on her cheek, and offered her as much love as he could during their trip.

Kisses, touches, she treasured them all. And wrote everything down in a diary she had started on the day the boat had left the harbour.

She wrote down everything he said and everything he did. All the ways he was damaged, and all the ways he was not. She tried sketching him, not that she was very good.

She knew that he risked dying. She knew the odds of him surviving were almost non-existent, they had been since before they married.

Wedged between the Red Mountains stood a castle with black basalt walls. Around the castle ran a moat. She could not see the bottom of it. It was a black abyss. But as bottomless as the moat appeared to be, so limited was the castle. There were two rows of protective walls, in which the staff of the castle lived, unperturbed by the war.

In the middle stood a small castle, nowhere near as grand or beautiful as the castle of King’s Landing. It also didn’t feel as ancient or look as architecturally stunning as Winterfell. But it was cosy, its rooms warm, even despite the winter cold. The castle had been built to keep all elements out, not only the heat, and all rooms had great hearths.

It felt like a home, she reasoned.

When Beric first entered the room that had once been his, Jeyne had wept in his stead. The sheets were unchanged, only covered up by a white blanket to ward off the dust. On the desk in his solar lay the letters he had left behind, having intended only to stay for the Tourney of the Hand all those years ago.

His clothes were large on him now, but the fresh set of clothes his size and befitting of his station were more than welcome. And the sheets, where they had lain on top of eachother, still held the perfume he’d last worn years ago, he’d recognized it, despite not even knowing he had once worn it.

In the room where he had once dined with his parents hung a portrait of him, and on another a mirror, the starkest reminder of who he had once been, and who he was now.

He had not been born amongst the ashes of the battlefield, he had been borne there, amidst solid stone, and had been raised by good parents.

It did not feel like a home to him, but it did to her. He was reminded of what he had forgotten, she saw what the castle had once been and could be again; a home to a noble family.

On the fifth day, once he had ensured all residents and the surrounding folk he lived, was married and had only received some scars, he left.

Life was like a song, Jeyne reasoned.

The fair maiden was rescued.

Evil lost.

The good side won.

And heroes died bravely while defending those who couldn’t protect themselves.

That’s where the stories ended.

Right after the good part.

Jeyne had the good part. Then came the rest of her life.

Twins with bright red hair.

No coffin to burry her husband, all the dead had been buried.

And the Spring she had wished for, in which her children could grow up safe.

[janiedean]

Honestly, I would like to hear you rant about Brienne's s5 storyline and her killing Stannis. It felt weird to me that in the book there's this whole thing with Lady Stoneheart wanting revenge and using Brienne as a tool to to try and get it tho she probably won't get it, and then in the show it's Brienne still seeking revenge for Renly and actually getting it. Like there's a "revenge isn't actually a good thing" theme that got lost along the way.

... lmao.

well okay this is not for renly fans so just so you know, you’re warned.

now.

I don’t have.... like, anything specific against renly nor I think he’s a Bad Person which is why in modern aus I just let him be his best version, but.. canon renly Is An Asshole when it concerns his brother, his niece and brienne and that’s A Thing because like sorry but skipping succession ‘because no one likes you but they like me’ is not a good reason to do anything, ‘my niece is so ugly ew grayscale’ is just bottom level of being... let’s just say vapid, and it’s canon that the reason he keeps brienne around is not that he cares about her, it’s because he knows she’s good at what she does and doesn’t want nothing in return and actually would die for him, which........

considering that brienne would have died for renly because he was nice to her once and danced with her which is like bare minimum for decent human being, sorry if I side-eye this narrative that renly believed in her etc because sorry guys renly in asoiaf canon didn’t give a single fuck about that;

specifically, when it comes to brienne renly is that one crush you get at some point that you’re in love with the idea of, not with the person they actually are, and as someone wise said on some post once, brienne thought she would die for him and didn’t and didn’t know she could die for jaime but she immediately knew when she had the choice, so I think that just seals it, but ahead with that...

affc is also about brienne getting over renly because she was in love with the idea of renly, not with renly himself, never mind that renly wasn’t in love with her anyway and could have never been. like, all of her affc povs are about that. she thinks about him less and less, she superimposes jaime on him like ffs when she’s naked in the bath she has to MAKE HERSELF THINK ABOUT RENLY, at some point she dreams of renly’s death except it’s jaime in his place, then jaime puts renly’s cloak on her shoulders and at the end of it when she has that dream which is sort of very similar to jaime’s in asos where he sees people he thinks he disappointed and she sees renly and cat.... well. it’s because she thinks she disappointed them, or that she failed them, but she’s plain not in love with him (or his idea of) anymore;

now, she also swore to cat she’d kill stannis in revenge for him... and she’s never so much as thought about it. ffs there is ONE single instance of brienne thinking about stannis in affc. THIS ONE:He shrugged. "Sometimes. At tourneys, from afar. Once at Baelor's Sept. The gold cloaks shoved us aside so he could pass. Another time I was playing near the Mud Gate when he come back from a hunt. He was so drunk he almost rode me down. A big fat sot, he was, but a better king than these sons of his."They are not his sons. Stannis told it true, that day he met with Renly. Joffrey and Tommen were never Robert's sons. This boy, though . . . "Listen to me," Brienne began. Then she heard Dog barking, loud and frantic. "Someone is coming."IT’S WHEN SHE RECOGNIZES THAT GENDRY IS ROBERT’S SON AND THAT STANNIS WAS RIGHT WHEN HE SAID TOMMEN AND MYRCELLA WEREN’T HIS. that’s it. that’s all brienne has to think about stannis in affc. she doesn’t think about killing him once.guess why? because meanwhile she’s found better things to think about and she doesn’t feel the need to avenge renly as much as she feels the need to fulfill her vow to catelyn and jaime and she’s fucking over renly and she has realizes at least subconsciously that guess what she didn’t want to die for him;

the entire point was that she is over her crush on a guy who might have been decent to her though it was the bare minimum anyone should have shown her but who didn’t give two shits about her personally and that she thought she could and would die for, and sorry if being willing to die for someone because he danced with you isn’t healthy as much as people don’t want to accept the fact that brienne has Issues with the capital I;

therefore, the moment the show dragged her north FOR RENLY and OMG I HAVE TO KILL STANNIS FOR RENLY before getting her stuck watching a tower for a season for that crap joke of a winterfell storyline and don’t get me started on how they made brienne’s sl secondary to sansa for three seasons when surely her point in her narrative is not that ita) ignored that brienne had a character arc that included getting over renlyb) elevated renly to sainthood (forget saint tyrion) because it implied that yes he was that nice dancing with her so yes he deserves her avenging his death when sorry but what the fucking fuck he just paid her the bare minimum it didn’t mean she should have joined his army for it or that she should avenge him for having being a decent person oncec) made it look like renly actually gave a shit about her for real when lmao nod) trashed lady stoneheart when as you said they lost the REVENGE IS A BAD IDEA theme and all that she brought with bc stoneheart is fundamental for both jaime and brienne as characters but hey let’s just stick brienne serving other people without a personal storyline and let’s not let jaime have his arc because what the fuck amritee) missed all of the themes in her affc arc because where was meribald? where was the anti-war message? where was the fact that brienne is a vulnerable person with doubts? we saw none of that shit except oMG SHE KILLED STANNIS BADASSSSS. yeah, no. character assassination my old friend here we are;

now, specifically re stannis: what angers me on a molecular level in that choice, not counting the fact that never in my life I ever want to see character #1 I relate to in a series (and period) kill character #2 I relate to in that same series without any goddamned reason to do that but that’s personal is that....... since brienne doesn’t give a fuck about avenging renly anymore in the book it’s very likely that if she and stannis meet again they might actually like talk about things and now I’mma give you the other hot take of the year....

... which is that I would like it if people saw that actually if brienne were to get along with one baratheon brother, she and stannis would have a lot more chances to hit off than she and renly ever could have because sorry but:a) they’re both introverts with huge issues communicating with others who also have been treated like shit for their entire lives based on people judging them before they opened their mouthb) as much as brienne isn’t THAT hard on it she has a sense of justice that he’d definitely appreciatec) if we assume that a guy with a daughter with grayscale whom renly also referred to as ‘that ugly daughter of his’ who is considered disfigured by everyone who still treats her like his only heir and doesn’t gaf about her looks would give two shits about brienne’s looks and not about her skills instead then we assume wrong nvm that stannis has a hand who used to be an illiterate commoner and melisandre used to be a slave like.... come on he’d definitely treat her with respect and not just because he needs herd) reverse, if she saw how he is with his daughter thaaat might remind her of her father not having forced her to marry eventually and agreeing to let her join renly/learn swordfighting instead I mean... come one) never mind that as stated before both of them are way more similar when it comes to take your vows seriously than notlike........... okay but with these premises if they meet when they need all the men they can spare to fight the white walkers I’d presume they will actually talk about renly’s death and get an understanding, not that she’ll take out a sword and impale him there especially if it’s post lady stoneheart which is the point in her sl where she 100% understands you can’t follow all of your vows and you will have to choose at some point (btw she chose jaime already over stoneheart and we all know it bye)...

which means that having her kill him in the show after a thing they made happen from 0 to 180 just to make him look irredeemable, for renly when brienne doesn’t gaf in the books anymore and reinforcing this - excuse me - bullshit narrative of saint renly who was the ideal king and never did anything wrong except trying to pass over stannis who was ahead of him in the line and further creating drama in that damned war because his brother didn’t happen to be immediately likable (nvm that I have issues with the fact that renly doesn’t even seem to remember having been at storm’s end during the siege which means that stannis made sure he actually had to eat while everyone else was starting to consider cannibalism but hey who cares that my brother almost died and never let me starve with the entirety of the castle I’ll now go and stab him in the back because NAAAH WHY SHOULD I SUPPORT HIM? sorry but what the fucking fuck) while stannis was an asshole who eventually got what he deserved because he wasn’t fun amrite will never not irk me to a molecular level because that wasn’t brienne’s storyline anymore and it hasn’t been since asos, the renly vs stannis situation is way more complicated than renly was nice and stannis was an asshole, stannis is nowhere near the piece of cardboard dnd think he is and the fact that both characters didn’t move on from their renly-related trauma but that it went down in the cheapest most ooc way ever should have woken people up about how dnd couldn’t be trusted for shit with these books if the WF adaptation of the adwd storyline hadn’t showed that already.

tldr: it was ooc and an insult to both characters and also can we stop with the saint renly narrative, thanks.