#the book quotes it quoted didn't even exist lmao

[forgettable-au]

WHAT IS THIS AU? HOW DOES IT WORK?

A brief (I'm lying, this is a long post) explanation post for this AU for anyone new <3

As I've mentioned before, this AU is based on the theory that Papyrus is (was) Gaster. I did not create this theory, it has existed for a long time as far as I know and I'm also not the first person to do something like this with the concept, I'll touch up on that later.

This is a LONG post, so click keep reading if you really want to check it out :D

About the Papyrus is Gaster theory

I've looked up a lot of stuff about it but I don't actually know where it originated. It's not super popular but if you're a Papyrus theorist you might have heard of it before.

It's not a super serious theory really, it's more about pointing out the weird connections and similarities between Papyrus and Gaster and giving an explanation to the many weird things about Papyrus and his lack of backstory.

Just to mention some things:

Them both speaking in capital letters, having no asterisks, their weird way of phrasing things, Papyrus being described as forgettable, Papyrus hating hotland, pretending he doesn't know about a lot of stuff ( The lab for example, he know what a lab is but pretends he doesn't in front of Sans), Gaster being related to hands and Papyrus never taking his gloves off, Papyrus weird connection with phones (his photo-graphic memory for phone calls) and Gaster's weird connection to phones also(Fun events related to phones, using the phone in the darkworlds and only getting Gaster's garbage sounds), their love for puzzles (The CORE is a giant puzzle), THAT one quote that I still find misterious “beside, it’s rude to talk about people that are listening, right? not everyone is as though as my brother”, Papyrus DOES have Gaster blasters it's pretty much canon even if a lot of people ignore it, Papyrus is very very smart he has a LOT of books, knowledge on many subjects, building stuff, and even made a shakespeare reference when he died (why is he like this lmao), he's the character with the most dialogue in game yet we don't know a lot of stuff about him, he breaks the laws of physics and of the game, he's not in deltarune the heavily Gaster connected game.

Now that's some of the things I could think about, and look, yeah I'm probably looking too much into it and these are all just coincidences and the weird Papyrus things are related to other stuff maybe not Gaster. But I still like this theory, not because I think it's real but because I LOVE the possibilites!!!

About how this AU works

Okay, so this au is basically a -pretend this theory is real and how would the undertale timeline work then!- We're giving Papyrus his backstory and I'm also making a Gaster focused story at the same time.

I will adapt basically how I think a situations like this would play out (and also add some of my other favorite ut theories as a treat)

Papyrus used to be Wingdings and then Wingdings shattered across time and space, Papyrus and Gaster are different separate people.

Actually I kind of, treat WIngdings before and after accident as different people also... you change a lot when you become an omnipresent being. So, Wingdings, Gaster and Papyrus I treat them all as different people.

"How did Gaster become Papyrus?"

He didn't "become" Papyrus just like that. After he shattered he stopped existing like he was before, he became a being in another layer of the game but physically his body was just there

I based this on how the goners and Gaster followers have counterparts that are not, uh, goners that look different or deformed and gray

Papyrus was just kind af an empty shell at first, he still kept parts of Wingdings original personality but his Papyrus personality developed on his own with time!

"How did Gaster shatter across time and space?"

Usually everyone agrees it was because he fell into the CORE

About similar content

Not here! I don't think the CORE caused his accident, it is a power source not a time and space altering machine. In this story it was some other thing he was working on, and it wasn't so much of an accident per se

If you have more questions you can check the frequently asked questions post or send me an ask <3!!

I've seen some people tell me this is a good idea for an AU and I agree!! I love this idea so much, but as I said before I didn't create this concept or theory I just love it a lot!! and was desperate for content wich I surprisingly did not found much of

I was so surprised, I really thought there would be more people that made this before but I couldn't find much, so I'm just making it myself and one of my goals is to maybe make other people like this idea and make their own takes on it !! cause i think it's neat and would love more perspectives and content

If you by any chance also like this concept as much as I do I just wanted to make this section to name some inspirations for this AU

First, you all should really see "I know that I know nothing" by linssins

It's because of this comic that I discovered that theory in the first place and really loved the concept. It's my main inspiration, unfortunately the comic is unfinished. If you see it you will definitely see how I took inspiration... Still my story and this au is a different take on the theory, it goes on a different path.

Also another inspiration for finding more stuff about the theory were

@askthesciencesquad This comic is paused but it's also a Papyrus!Gaster comic! and I was very happy to find it, it is also a very different take on the concept but I liked where it was going. The same person also has this other blog where they put a lot of Papyrus is gaster stuff :0 @deviodofmeat

Okay so that's it, maybe I missed some stuff? but if I remeber i'll just add it later, that's what's good about tumblr.

[devisopod]

Book of Bill Ramblings

If you don't want spoilers, I'd suggest you stop reading before the cut. This'll contain quotes from the book! I've avoided content and conversation about this thing like the plague, so I'm going in blind. This is gonna be a wall of text if you're on mobile. Have fun, if you're into that.

I'm gonna solve the ciphers by myself, so they won't be included here, it's more fun that way! This is all just my "analysis" or whatever you wanna call it.

|| PREFACE

I am an adult. I'm not here to argue or debate with anyone about the content of this book! I'm simply sharing my personal breakdown, so these opinions and statements are in no way meant to be taken as "the right way" to look at it. They're how I alone choose to view the text! I'm open to discuss it, if you want, like sane and civilized people. Heated arguments or grumblings fueled by the discontent that someone doesn't buy into the way YOU'RE perceiving a work of fiction is unwelcome.

Now.

Before I even had the book in my hand, I knew how I wanted to approach this. I had to keep in mind this is all meant to be written by the worst character in the series (from a narrative standpoint), and he isn't supposed to be pitied. So seriously obvious, I know, but it's THE most important factor to circle back to given ANY tidbit of information.

Since this is his point-of-view, which is such a skewed perspective to begin with, it's ultimately bound to be manic (and god was it). He's everything we already know him to be: out of his mind, a compulsive liar, a pro at manipulation, and literally so self-important. That's what makes it difficult to trust whether or not things that happened (or didn't happen) will be altered by his unstable state of mind.

I think I'd even go as far as to say that he's delusional in a lot of ways. No matter how smart he thinks he is, or objectively is, he's a highly flawed individual that is constantly sabotaging himself. And what's more, he doesn't CARE. Bill, while driven in his own right, is highly apathetic unless events or actions directly impact him significantly and negatively.

INITIAL AND UNCATEGORIZED THOUGHTS:

- Holy shit, it's like Bill prides himself on being some sort of "all-knowing" being, but he's really just a fat gossip.

- Bill says it and stresses it multiple times in this book that not only is reality not under your control, but you don't understand it. Only he understands it, and you're just too dumb. Nothing is real. But the universe is a hologram, and everything is also a multiverse. Dennis and Kyle hold our existence in a binder.

- As suggested, he is quite literally feeding you lies, and he's having fun doing it.

- So, Bill's kind of dead, but not really. He's existing in a "half life" state. "Descending through circles, battling demons, reliving [his] whole life... somewhere far away... where the music is always out of tune. Where everyone smiles but no one is happy". Sounds like a mall lmao.

Okay, we'll get into it. My back hurts.

1 || "SIXER, IT WOULD EAT YOU ALIVE."

Let me just start this by saying that Bill sees Ford as a possession. He spent a lot of time grooming him, so he feels HEAVILY entitled to Ford in an "I made you" sort of way. Which is just about as messed up as you'd expect it to be! Bill EXPECTS Ford to be okay with this and even functions under the assumption that Ford wants to belong to him, which is very likely a stem from how open to the relationship Ford was at the beginning. He's constant in sharing that he's grateful for Bill's influence and that it's made his life so much better.

That aside, Bill is repeatedly suggesting to the reader that people that hate him actually love him a lot. And it's so likely that some twisted line of love and being used was blurred between these two. I've said it before and I'll say it again: sharing a mind and a body with a seemingly god-like being is going to fuck you and your perspective UP, I don't care who you are.

After all, "the more people love you, the more brainwashed sheep you can bend to your whims! So CONQUERING HEARTS is one of the most important things you can do!"

While, Ford is an immensely strong-willed individual, he's so very weak to Bill's manipulation because Bill knows EXACTLY what he wants to hear. He's been learning and planning for this kind of thing for a very, very long time and using countless others to do so. So, his false loyalty and promises, though really suspicious to anyone else, appeal to Ford's ego and subconcious because they're specifically catered to him.

And this is where Bill thrives. He is extremely efficient at finding the selfishness within others and exploiting it because he is selfish. He doesn't care what happens as long as he reaches his goal. Any pain along the way isn't gonna be his, so why not just relax and enjoy it? And he's found his match: a "brilliant, morally ambiguous, and romantically challenged" individual. To him, Ford fits the bill (no pun intended), and no dumb Shaman is gonna scare him off this one. It's all a trick to keep him away from advancing his portal plans, right?

He emphasizes his excitement at the prospect of Ford's potential as a pawn by saying, "This is what a partner looks like. The ego of a king. The insecurity of a circus freak. And totally isolated from anyone who might steer him clear of my plans."

He's impressionable and gullible enough to follow him blindly in the name of discovery and arguably as a result of his alienation in the odd town that is Gravity Falls.

And that's where I think Bill's influence should be addressed. Bill's been whispering in Ford's ear, making his life easier, and "fixing" his problems by offering solutions that HE would use. That's the scary part, I think. Bill uses so many different types of flattery, even gives Ford a lot of confidence that he needs, which really feeds into Ford's trust.

2 || GUYS WITH BIG BRAINS GET ON MY NERVES

After seeing Stan on TV, selling the "Grifter", Ford starts to seem like he's having second thoughts about maybe calling Stan up. Bill is, naturally, quick to shoot this down by convincing him it's a waste of time.

With both Stan and Fiddleford, we see Bill kind of steering Ford away. It's clear Ford wants to be around both of them, but as Bill has already suggested, he wants to keep this one isolated. Ford's attention should ONLY be on him and the work that needs to be done. He's not gonna make the same mistakes he made with his previous puppets.

It's unclear whether Bill complicates things on purpose or not, but he certainly isn't interested in making them better.

As far as the relationship between Ford and Fiddleford is concerned (whether you view it as brotherly, romantic, or platonic), I think it had a lot of potential to bring Ford away from Bill, but Ford is just not equipped to be a solid and reliable partner at this stage of his life. He's too focused, too full of himself, and really desperate to fill the hole Stan left. Or maybe not desperate enough.

I've made this point before and I'll make it again: the vast majority, if not all of, the heavy lifting in the dynamic between Ford and Fiddleford IS DONE BY FIDDLEFORD. He is a very caring and loyal person, very much to a fault in this situation.

The Christmas gifts he makes Ford are very personal. Ford means a lot to Fiddleford, so much so that he doesn't see his family often and chooses to help with the research. Whether or not Fiddleford and Emma-May were already having issues can't be judged based on the information given, but it's possible that it plays a part in his absence. It seems like the most likely possibility to me, though. Fiddleford doesn't seem the type to just forget about something like that, especially exhibiting such a friendly and kind demeanor, so I'm willing to bet they were already having problems.

Ford, as I see it, very rarely goes out of his way to do things for Fiddleford, though. However, I will give him props for being good enough to cheer Fiddleford up after he returns from his family.

What I will say, is that Ford relies on Fiddleford a great deal, and I'm not entirely sure how healthy that is. Fiddleford is Ford's ONLY real friend, and definitely the only one not feeding him questionable advice.

Therapy.

3 || CUCKOO CLOCK

Therapy, right? Yeah.

Anyway, Bill REALLY gets after Ford when the whole portal thing goes south. And that's sure to be a hell of a time. Ford is put through immense pain physically and mentally during it all, and wow does it actually sound horrifying. Even during this aggressive and desperate scramble to get Ford to do his bidding, Bill is beating Ford down and trying his best to use his hardships against him while also trying to convince Ford that he needs Bill. He's got nobody else.

He tries everything: sabotage, threats, you name it. Even though Ford doesn't realize his wrongs entirely here, he still knows he has to do something to rectify all that he's done. And boy, does he wanna kill that triangle.

He even loses his mind just a little bit more about this time, grasping at straws and realizing how bad he fucked up.

But now, we skip ahead. Things are better. All that's passed.

The ending of this book was about as satisfying as I imagined it would be. The Pines family. Simple and clean. A thoughtful message from Ford, and some inserts from Mabel, Dipper, and Stan. Stan's message is probably my favorite, and rightfully so.

These four are what it's all about to me. Each sibling has the other, and they're all happy. Bill can't touch them anymore, no matter how much this book of his tries. They're smarter than he is, and it's because they don't intend to be divided by him ever again.

[brbarou]

i was tagged to do this so naturally i went YIPPIIII YIPPPIIII!!!!

favourite rote book: either fool's errand or the golden fool. it's hard for me to settle on one

why: a) i was shocked at how welcoming it was to return to fitz's pov because i didn't exactly miss him & i enjoyed the liveship traders very much b) peak fitzloved yearning, divorce arc, followed by more yearning, etc c) these books made me start snorting the fool like cocaine and i haven't stopped since

top 3 favourite characters: beloved, fitz, malta

top 3 least favourite characters: wintrow (lol, lmao, don't make me talk about this i will literally start tweaking) tats, chade i guess? i didn't understand chade hate at the beginning but then at one point i was like...ok why is satan grandpa still alive

favourite ship of the floating kind: paragon probably. i have beef with the vivacia

top 3 ships of the people kind: fitzloved :) and i like jekamber and alise and leftrin

would you rather be witted or skilled? neither amen

if you were witted, what animal would you bond with? being witted sounds like a nightmare to me but i guess a bird of some sorts. maybe an owl

would you rather live in the Outislands, the Mountain Kingdom, the Six Duchies, Bingtown, the Rain Wilds, Kelsingra, Jamallia, the Pirate Isles, or Mercenia/Fools homeland? i love how Chacled isn't even an option💀💀💀 the Outislands definitely. the climate sucks but they're onto something with the "men exist only to die in war" thing

how were you introduced to the books? i saw a girl on tiktok holding up all sixteen books in one frame and i was like Damn. what if

share a quote you love: this stuck with me waaay back in royal assassin and robin hobb hitting us with "he still believes that's true" on twitter has only made it worse

tagging whoever wants to do it o7

[geekwiththeglasses]

Would love to hear you rant about Fourth Wing. That book makes me so mad lmao

I literally dashed to my desktop when I saw this because this deserves a desktop response (out of character for a millenial/genz cusper I actually type much faster with a keyboard).

Now to note, I am only 50% done with the book so far so this is limited to that (though I have watched spoiler reviews so I feel justified in my thoughts because I know it's not getting better).

By the way, I learned that this entire series was a publisher request, not like a passion project of Yarros and while I ain't judging (I would do it in a heartbeat if it meant I could pay rent for the next year), to me, you can kinda feel it, like there's a distinct lack of creative verve. You can especially feel it in how shallow everything (and everyone) feels.

A read more because this became obnoxiously long (it's almost 2000 words) and I respect people's dashboards.

Except for this article about toxic perseverance which I think everyone should have to read if they've read Fourth Wing.

There are, first of all, some major issues with this book. The biggest one is, of course, the toxic perseverance, which is covered quite well in the article, but if you're not going to read it, to pull a quote from it:

Creating a narrative in which a character with a disability overcomes all of their pain and other symptoms through force of will alone sets unrealistic expectations—unrealistic expectations which are, as I mentioned previously, a very real issue for very real disabled people in our very real world.  I believe we should have seen some impact of that lifestyle if the author was trying to engage with this intentionally. Because fiction is not created in a vacuum and this narrative goes unproblematised in-text, it’s unclear whether Yarros actively endorses this mindset, or is accidentally endorsing it, neither of which is good.

Just to elaborate a little on something I didn't see in the article, but this book hates the idea of accommodations. Like it's a horrible, horrible thing and how dare you ever suggest Violet might need something as disgusting as a saddle to stay on the equivalent of an airplane. It's not like accommodations are something that actually can end up helping non-disabled people as well. There wasn't potential for a scene where she actually acknowledged she needed help and suddenly everyone's like "hey, that's actually really smart, we should totally do this too, this makes life much easier/safer and will improve everyone's quality of life". Or even just a scene where it only helps her but damn it helps her a lot because it takes in to account her needs and specific body. Because that would require acknowledging that Violet has limitations and not allow her to power through the pain. And also get thrown from her dragon repeatedly, which definitely doesn't fuck up her joints.

Rhiannon gets so shafted. She gets the double whammy of two stereotypes: the black best friend and the promiscuous bisexual. She's seen with multiple partners, none of which seem like long-term or serious partners. And while some bisexual people have more sex with more people than others, if you're going to do that, include more than one bisexual person in your story. She has very little to do with the story unless she is there for the white, straight main character. We've gotten her helping Violet, but so far there's zero dedicated scenes of that tutoring help that was offered in the beginning and as far as I know we never get it (I may be wrong). I hear we get her family later, but that they're also glossed over for More Important Things. It doesn't feel like Rhiannon (or honestly any other character) exists except for when they're around Violet. They all kinda blend together, which at the 50% mark is fucking unacceptable. What is special about them, distinguishes them from the others other than Liam (is it Liam? whoever her bodyguard is) who whittles? There is so little to distinguish any background characters except for Dain. Even Xaden feels lackluster and a bit hazy around the edges, like he never finished rendering.

Let's not forget that Yarros is 100% a military wife and a US military bootlicker and from what I've heard she's had some unsavory and unsupportable opinions on Palestine. We do not like.

She also took Gaelic names and just decided the pronunciation doesn't matter??? Insulting.

Onto the less serious issues:

Firstly, as to my previous complaint, the entirety of Dain's storyline is the most impressive speedrun in character assassination I have ever seen. I described it to a friend as Yarros lovingly caressing a 2x4 before repeatedly beating you over the head with it. He gets like... a scene to be besties and then immediately he must be the worst thing to ever exist, specifically to prop up Xaden. Dain is the asshole holding her back, unlike Xaden who pushes her to be her best (entirely ignoring that her body literally has physical limitations and accommodations are not a dirty word)! He's such a rule follower, but Xaden understands when to bend or break them (pay no attention to him breaking all the rules to try to get her into the scribe's quadrant)! He doesn't believe her immediately when she accuses someone of murder, but Xaden absolutely believes her with no proof (let's forget that Amber is a good friend of Dain and that it would honestly be natural to want to believe that your friend isn't capable of cold-blooded murder with zero proof especially since that would lead to her execution which Violet somehow forgot would be a consequence of her accusation). Dain is overprotective and condescending to Violet (I mean he wasn't the one to force her to have a bodyguard, but he just doesn't believe in her). I bet he doesn't even wash his ass. Xaden definitely washes his ass.

Murder college makes zero sense, especially since she definitely based the military off the US (which makes sense since it's the one she has the most exposure to). Most militaries that I am aware of have rather high requirements for physical fitness, especially an academy for officers (which, in Yarros' face, I actually have experience with, as my father went to the Naval Academy so I know for a fact they're strict as hell with requirements). The US military won't even let you be slightly overweight, even if you can fulfill the physical requirements. It was hard to find any info on whether EDS would out and out disqualify you, but the fact that it wasn't even brought up as a barrier for entry that she had to overcome does not make sense to me.

Ah, I hear someone hypothetically argue, but the college is supposed to (theoretically) weed out the weak so they'll let anyone in who wants to join! Ok, then why is Violet the only physically disabled person in the entire college? I have been to rodeos with bull riders who were amputees, but there ain't one person missing an arm or a leg in that college. The only other disabled person we get so far is a scribe, but you're telling me not one deaf person wants to be a rider? Why is Violet the only one that gets to be "exceptional"?

Back to the murder part of murder college, the fact that this is a murder college gets technically lampshaded, but never really justified in why people keep coming. Like it's not some greater commentary on the lengths people will go for power or greatness or the insidious nature of military propaganda. It just felt like we needed to up the stakes that our protagonist was in danger at every turn, but honestly I never feel like the stakes are that high, because, well, she keeps emphasizing how much danger her life is in, how screwed and dead she is. And if her life is always in danger, it's never in danger.

Speaking of murder, the story doesn't challenge the idea that "weed out the weak through murder" doesn't actually work but just kills people and probably gives the survivors like the worst anxiety (because if everything can kill you your mental health will probably deteriorate). It's like that meme:

Basgiath War College: I have made the perfect rider Me: you fucked up a perfectly good person is what you did. Look at him. He's got anxiety.

Why is Violet so enlightened and above having any prejudice? If anything she should have way more animosity towards the rebel kids than she does. It's literally stated in text that she was not immune to the propaganda and misinformation she's read, but you want me to believe that between (what she believes is) losing a brother to the rebellion and a mother who was kinda involved, not to mention growing up in a group that would be full of anti-rebel propaganda she somehow didn't end up believing anything beyond "yeah some of them will definitely want you dead" which is true??? Instead she's fine with them and will definitely sit with rebel kids because unlike people who grew up with probably less or about the same propaganda than her, she knows not to judge people for the sins of their parents. Those other kids are just so much more prejudiced than she is, isn't she wonderful and has zero biases to unlearn. Oh, you may say, but she thought Xaden was going to kill her! He literally does confirm that the only reason initially he doesn't kill her is to keep a hold of his humanity which does actually confirm that he wants her dead! So the narrative even confirms that this bias was, in fact, the correct opinion to have.

I do not understand why Violet and Xaden are drawn to each other beyond Xaden hot. I am asexual and somewhere on the aromantic spectrum so perhaps it is just not in my nature to understand the ways of the heterosexuals, but I don't get it. Why does she like him? The only reason given is he's hot. Maybe a reason is given later down the line but this is a romantasy. You live and die by building up that damn romance and I am not convinced! I haven't even been given like a "oh I see him with his dragon and it's heart meltingly cute how he interacts with her". Is this why Dain had to be assassinated (we are holding his burial next week by the way, there will be funeral potatoes)? So that Xaden had something to be compared to because he has all the substance of one of those inflatable dancing men?

(Dance, Xaden, dance.)

Yarros cannot do exposition, it's so jarring. She tells us so much, shows little, and bores me the entire time. You seriously decide to make exposition a character quirk for when she needs to calm down? Seriously???? The parapet scene was hard to listen to because you were jerked around like a rag doll between quick action and exposition. Who thought that was a good idea? Exposition is always a difficult thing to include and make it work and sound natural, but this is not how you do it.

A minor complaint, but once you learn Yarros is Mormon you cannot unsee the fingerprints of Mormonism throughout this book. People do not cuss like people, they cuss like you put fuck into a fresh AI and asked it to try it out. I cuss like a sailor and I was wondering why it felt so jarring until I realized that it's not how people talk. I mean Holy. Fucking. Hot. I'm well the fuck aware. You tried ma'am, you tried. Here's a gold star. Also, I'm 99% sure there is zero alcohol. You seriously want me to believe that none of these kids are sneaking in alcohol? That no one is using booze to cope with being in a murder college? As if, we all know these kids are making midnight dragon runs to the liquor store.

Also, the fact that I had to hear an audiobook narrator try to make this dialogue and prose sound like something that would actually come out of a human mouth was truly something to behold. The fact that "for the win" was not left in the 2010s where it belonged is an outrage. If I had a better memory I would put in more quotes cause there have been other doozies.

But really, the greatest crime this book commits, is that it has the audacity to be boring. You give me dragons and you have the sheer, unmitigated gall to bore me. I will accept a lot from a book. I will accept plot holes. I will ignore shallow world building. I will tolerate character assassinations. Do all that if you must, but at the very least make it interesting. This book is not interesting. I listen to a few chapters at a time and I am not having a good time. I only continue out of sheer stubbornness and feeling an obligation that for once I should actually read a book that I have seen negative reviews about to see if perhaps it is not so bad.

I just happened to pick a book where it is, in fact, that bad.

[dilscft]

Jeremiah didn't even cheat lol (Not saying that's what you were saying just what those shippers always claim lmao) That still isn't right but JH did that to make Jeremiah look bad I don't consider Book 3 canon felt more like a bonrad fanfic by a ghostwriter the writing wasn't that good either like Belly finally moved on I forget one of the quotes but it was like actions matter more than intent then she ends up with Conrad in the last chapter? No for me but I do find it funny Belly could only say one sentence about conrad (even though some of what she said were lies he wasn't her only love) to be honest I don't think Belly loved Conrad it was more of an obsession of who she thought he was not who he really was. Now if Jenny changes I will be so excited I don't think I can watch season 3 until I know how it ends if it goes by the books won't consider that canon either it doesn't make sense because now they did what the books never did where Belly knows how conrad feels I think their relationship is gone for good only way for it to happen is being forced. JH did say she might change the ending she was shipping Jelly after Book 2 if she's not then that sucks especially after they gave a lot of Jere's story to Conrad to make him likable even though he's still a douche. bonrad's personalities don't match it will never work for them I always thought even in Book 3 they would get divorced in less than a week lol. I made this ask too long sorry about that I love talking about this show and ship they're perfect to me <3

I recently put her description of both fisher boys if you haven't read them. Agree about book 3. I can't even finish it, because it sounds so bonrad fanfiction fr.

About Jenny Han saying she might change the ending. I hope she does. I hope she doesn't say this just for views. I can't even imagine how they gonna make bonrad relatable and passionate after jelly scenes? Like, I literally can't see anything in Conrad's eyes, which would make kinda a little bit sympathetic towards bonrad. Maybe it's the acting that might be bad, or I just hate their relationship. But THE WAY JEREMIAH LOOKS AT HER? IT FEELS LIKE THE WORLD STOPPED AND THE EXPRESSION IN HIS EYES OMG. THAT IS TRUE LOVE, THE SWEETNESS IN HIS EYES, THE LOVE IN HIS EYES, SUPPORT IN HIS EYES, KINDNESS IN.HIS EYES. HIS EYES SAYING I AM ALWAYS GONNA BE BY YOUR SIDE AND YOU ARE THE ONLY GIRL FOR ME THAT EXISTS. I COULD NEVER LOOK AT ANOTHER GIRL BECAUSE YOU ARE THE ONE FOR ME!!!

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

"I actually still have more to say lmao but don’t know If I Should " Please go off. It's so refreshing to see someone exercise a healthy dose of caution and scepticism in considering The 'evidence'. Also, wanted to say, I completely get your annoyance about every single song John or Paul has written made to somehow be about the other. I know people are just here to have fun and all but it's such a myopic way of analysing their great body of work.

Like… Here's The Thing:

If John and Paul had sex, it wouldn't be like… that hard for them to hide this fact lol. So the fact we don't have hard proof of it isn't in of itself evidence that it never happened (a thing Mark Lewisohn doesn't seem to quite understand). But finding proof for it outside of Paul himself coming forward and admitting to it (or the executor of his estate, or Sean, or some insanely petty person with an axe to grind who's been… waiting for Paul to die for decades?) is like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

Honestly, it kind of reads as copium to me when people who are highly invested in Being Right About McLennon cling to these unverifiable sources that vehemently insist "everyone in the industry knows!" It's as if they need to affirm to themselves that they're ~not crazy~. (for the record: I don't think believing John and Paul were in love/had sex in of itself is crazy) It's just concerning when nobody is asking themselves why these sources who have all this "industry knowledge" are apparently never sharing that knowledge with the people who are actually publishing Beatles books; not even with the authors of the super trashy books; not even as a "source who asked not to be named". No, they only appear to be talking to random frequenters of various internet forums. Like. It just makes me go HMMMMM yknow?

And the other thing is like………… Are we forgetting why we here on tumblr generally agree that John was bi?

The idea that everyone knew about John and Paul being a couple, but they didn't tattle about this to the press because That Would Be Rude! ––– but also they felt going off about John's sexuality in general was actually totally fair game???? How does that make any sense?? It's also like, even if a lot of people still look the other way with regard to John's sexuality (though, less and less, in my observation), that doesn't mean the information hasn't been freely accessible for decades. It begs the question why this isn't a thing for all the McLennon Proof That Totally Exists This One Guy Told Me!!! And authors like Albert Goldman prove that disrupting the Lennon Estate's narrative, the macho image of John, is a lucrative business, specifically talking about his sexuality sells. (sort of off-topic: NGL, I'm always a bit mystified when people on this site seem to… Forget that John/Brian is a MUCH more substantiated theory than John/Paul.)

And this can't possibly all be down to John being dead while Paul is alive. As I said: it's also not like Paul hasn't caught an insane amount of shit over the decades. Guys like Giuliano wrote about him as well.

It's almost like, if Paul is bi, probably very few people know this fact for certain! Wow!

Also re: the song thing. It's just that……… I really like music? For it's own sake y'know. I get sad when 90% of the posts I see about the songs are trying to prove a theory that's much better substantiated by like… quotes than (for the most part, pretty vague) lyrics anyways. And I wouldn't mind all the fun tinhatting (some of which I engage in too!) if there was just more unabashed song loving.

[v-e-l-v-e-t-g-o-l-d-m-i-n-e]

would you recommend reading the vampire chronicles? I’ve finished the first book and I really enjoy Louis character (even if it’s hating on lestat majority of the book) but I’ve heard he’s basically forgotten in most of the other books. It’s a shame do you think his character gets ruined/minimised later on? It’s strange that even happens if loustat is canon. I hope the series gives us more of Louis character progression. So far so good. I also don’t understand why so many people hate Louis.

The Vampire Chronicles is my favorite book series so yes I would always recommend it, I had a wonderful time with them and there's a lot of characters and moments in it that I love so very much!

(But I would like to point out that these books have a lot of themes that may be upsetting, so if you are in the habit of checking trigger warnings that would negatively affect you before diving into something I would recommend to do so here. These stories have a lot of abuse (physical, emotional, sexual), there are racist undertones in how black characters are described (especially bad with Merrick Mayfair imo), the religious themes can get really tiring after a while, there's a lot of discussion of depression and suicide, among other things. It's a series I love a lot, with constant deep discussions about human nature, but it gets dark a lot of times and it's also deeply flawed in several ways.)

Recently people have asked me similar things, and since my answer didn't change I'll link it here - Louis does appear less as the books goes on, but he never goes away entirely. And like I said in this one ask, I understand why Anne Rice didn't like to write in Louis' POV anymore since Louis in IWTV was essentially her way to canalize her grief over her daughter's death.

I do wish he appeared more, but I think he remains a very important character still since it's always meaninful when he appears. And if you're talking about people hating Louis, well. As much as I love him (he actually is in my Top 3 favorite VC characters), book!Louis, can be a bit of a wet blanket for some people lmao

It's not for me, but I understand why for some people it is this way since Louis' depressive low mood is a constant for his existence for a long time, and you can get a bit tired of this in such a long, 13 book long series (to place a book quote here: "He is so good at grieving! He wears woe as others wear velvet; sorrow flatters him like the light of candles; tears become him like jewels.").

But show!Louis… can't understand people hating him because I think they amplified Louis' more favorable traits from the books and diminished the traits that made him less appealing and the result is that he became a incredible layered and compealing character.

The writers and showrunner have said a few times I believe that they intend to expand Louis' character from the books so I don't worry about it, and I also don't think they would want to waste such a good actor like Jacob Anderson and make him occupy a small part after being so good in playing a leading role for two seasons.

[acourtofthought]

The other day I was trying to show my sis one of your theories about elucien and gwynriel that why you think they're endgame and the crumbs sjm dropped for us throughout the series and it's been in front of this whole time...

And she told me and I quote: don't waste my time on this when I know they're endgame😎

Me: 😦

She said that with a certainty that it shocked me lmao like I wasn't that certain when I finished the series I just knew after Azriel's chapter I didn't feel so good about e/riels and I was trying to convince and prepare myself that they might be a good pairing in their book haha I was struggling it was a dark time lmao

All I'm saying is that people like my sister exist and they instantly knew Azriel and Gwyn scenes where a mean to romantic scenes

And STILL there are some people who ask "gEnUiNeLY why do you ship gwynriel/elucien?" Or "I read the books but idk why there are gwynriel shippers they barely talked!"

pls if you like the rest of us weren't waiting for "e/riel interaction" and paid attention to the actual plot and the current storyline maybe just maybe you would've noticed it too!! Bc I know how they were disappointed that they didn't got the training session they wanted with them and now they're reasoning the very same thing for not liking gwynriel...

They are so hypocrite that its funny at this point everything they have reasoned for not liking or believing they won't happen reek of hypocrisy and jealousy bc they wanted angst but elucien is already serving and they wanted a trainer x trainee dynamic and gwynriel has already gave it to us and they still need to train more😌✌

I love that you wanted to share my blogs with someone!! That makes me feel special ❤️❤️❤️ And though she had little interest 😂 I love that she came to the conclusion all on her own. It's one thing to still ship E/riel, that is completely someones right. But it is ridiculous when someone truly acts confused as to how anyone sees the possibility of Gwynriel ESPECIALLY when those same people ship Vassa / Lucien. Lucien has never felt something spark in his chest when it comes to Vassa. He did not take Elain's solstice gift and easily regift it to Vassa. Vassa has never once sassed Lucien the way that Gwyn sassed at Az. We've never even seen a conversation between Vassa and Lucien outside of the one that Jurian, Eris, and Cassian were all part of and which involved Koschei. And Azriel notes that his shadows are playful with Gwyn in a way they never have been with Elain. Does that mean Gwynriel is a certainty? Not necessarily but let's not pretend it couldn't be hinting at something. A while back I sent a few friends excerpts from the book. I didn't not tell them my own preference but sent them certain lines about Elain's character (i.e., cruelty troubles her, the "don't hurt" Graysen quote) and then sent lines regarding the characters of Az and Lucien, how they handled certain things ("if Lucien kills Graysen, good riddance", "I'll defeat him with little effort"). I asked who seemed to be a better match for Elain based on personality and Lucien took it in a clean sweep. So yeah, it's ok if someone still ships E/riel because they have been given reason to ship it. But it's frustrating when certain E/riels act like we don't have just as much hinting at the possibility of an Elucien or Gwynriel endgame.

[usernamesuggestionsarefunny]

I hate it when my fandom is a small niche because no one will care about my rant ahead lol. I am a fan of The Red Tent (The show and the book by Anita Diamant) and I go on Tumblr to find content on it. Long story short I find lovely gifs of the show with Rebecca Ferguson, quotes of the book and such, but unfortunately no metas or fics or people gushing about the story and the characters, which was sadly to be expected. The only thing I find is someone complaining about how the show changed the ending to make it more hopeful, about forgiveness, etc. And I am like, bitch, the show is a whitewashing-of-middle-eastern-characters-mess, it was not as detailed as the book, it was too short and could have done more with the content, the actors are unbelievably and stupidly old for their ages (Especially Dinah in the first episode, Rebecca is beautiful but there is no way I can suspend my disbelief and pretend she is a lovesick teenager, why the hell didn't they use two actresses for her? The passage of time in the show was perfect for that), and so on, but you know what what good about it? (Other than the costumes and the settings of course)

It fixed the bookʼs crappy ending. There, I said it. I don't care how supposedly “deep” it is, or being told I just don't get it. It is just my truth and you are free to disagree.

You see, when I got to the end of the book I was met by a very depressing and dull experience where Dinah suddenly stopped loving all of her brothers, even Joseph, despite the fact they were breadfed together and each other's best friends growing up. I get her hatred and unforgiving attitude towards Simon and Levi and even the rest of the older brothers, but Joseph? Who had nothing to do with the massacre other than a comment he didn't seriously mean and was around her age when it happened? The author just wanted to shock the readers at this point.

What is more, in the show it could have been understandable for Dinah to be ambivalent towards Joseph, since he tried to get her son killed for almost assassinating him, but in the book it is actually Joseph who spares his life and sends him away instead without ANY coercion from Dinah. Dinah just continues to hate him in the book for no reason because he is part of her past and she wants to forget her past and his existence took her son away from her even though that was literally 100% the sonʼs fault for trying to kill a literal statesman out of revenge with WITNESSES around without learning the full story of what happened to his father, who was killed by Simon and Levi only and not all of Dinahʼs brothers lol

lmao It just makes Dinah come out as heartless and cruel, especially considering she gets some second hand account about how much Joseph supposedly suffered as a slave, which, because this takes creative liberties (Which I am 100% fine with btw), is an even greater amount of suffering than implied in the Bible (He is said to have been beaten and raped by his masters or the slave traders before getting to Potiphar in this book, which actually makes sense, him being a slave and this being ancient times and all, and Potiphar is also a creep). But nope, there is no talk of how both siblings have suffered, Joseph as a slave, and Dinah since the loss of her husband and forced separation from her child. They just become strangers, which is frustrating and unsatisfactory. No emotional reunion in the book as there is in the show (Which has a brilliant scene where they meet again that is very satisfying).

The book also has to make all the male characters heatless monsters incapable of remorse or idiots to make Dinah, her son, and her love interests shine (They literally make Joseph an illiterate fool to make Dinahʼs son shine as the “power or intellect behind the power” or whatever, like, this isn't even about uplifting women because this is Dinahʼs son, not Dinah herself, this is pretty much just about making Dinah the only competent or admirable child of Jacob, it is so blatant and annoying it reminds me of Disneyʼs Maleficent idea of telling a complex story and giving voice to voiceless characters, meaning flipping everything around and thinking that does the job) . The show doesn't do this and yet Dinah comes across as a very competent woman, a brilliant midwife, just as she is in he books. She is unquestionably the main character in the show and yet we also get glimpses of Joseph being a learned man, no character assassination needed. You don't have to pick on Joseph, who most imagine to have been learned and literate at some point in his life besides having the prophetic dreams (which makes SENSE even if it is not in the Bible, he was given a position of power for a reason), to make me admire Dinahʼs character.

The end of the show makes Dinah bond with her brother and gives you the impression they stay good friends even if she can't make herself to do the same with her other brothers. This, along with her relationship with Benia, is a huge triumph after so much suffering, a true happy ending, I can see the two of them playing with their children and having meals together. She forgives her father because Joseph forgave her son for trying to kill him, it is lovely, it is a lovely message, and her forgiving her father ties to the original message of the story, paralleling with Joseph forgiving his brothers. Forgiveness doesn't lower Dinah down or have to mean she thinks what her father did was right. It doesn't mean she has to spend time with the people who hurt her. It just means she lets go of the anger. Can this message be annoying for some people who are pressured by society to forgive their abusers? Yes, but in fiction it is better this way because unless the plot is about revenge, forgiveness gives the story closure and meaning, and because the book set the story up to a final encounter with her family, Dinah being as indifferent makes the ending anticlimactic.

In the book, Dinah returning to her homeland is almost there for no reason (I liked her meeting the new generation in her family and learning of the women and girls, granddaughters of her mothers, who are always forgotten, but other than that? Pointless). She doesn't speak to her father or brothers even to ask them why they did what they did or be angry (which was an alternative to the forgiveness arc if your truly hate it that much), she doesn't speak to Joseph either because “muh my past I hate muh past and he sent my son who tried to kill him away”. There is straight up NO REASON FOR HER TO BE THERE. I hate the ending so much it is unbelievable.

So no, random person who is probably among the few to feel strongly about this show/book. The show ending is awesome and way better than the book ending (imo, I have nothing against you random person). Thank you for coming to my niche fandom ted talk.

[hot-girls-corner]

reading books is the greatest hobby y'all, argue with the wall 💅 - 24th August, 2023

BOOK: Unknown | kth

#rr 24th August, 2023 Thursday 1:04 AM

I loved this book so much, i fucking cried at the V gone scene, and the whole book was a great masterpiece, a perfect mix of comedy, romance and action. I fucking loved it and i love YOU author. just marry me at this point bruh-

no like seriously i only have a few favorite books even though i read hundreds and it's in the top <3

love y'all, hopefully i'll read it someday again when i forget about it, i love when i forget books cuz i can reread it :)

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reading books is the greatest hobby y'all, argue with the wall 💅

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books make me feel emotions i didn't knew existed in me.

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I'm going to reread Creation next, the jjk ff. i had teary eyes and a broken heart in Unknown, but Creation made me fucking cry more than i did when i was depressed-

coughs

anyways- so another book that made me cry (very vulgar, sexual and violent stuff) was very memorable and fucked up, which was Just Us, and i swear i fucking don't want to re-read it, it will literally fuck up my mind again. when i first read it, my brain wasn't functioning properly for a few days like wtf-

but ngl the book was great and VERY memorable cuz even after a year i CLEARLY remember it because of the intense and excessive scenes. the last chapter had be crying, and the author was so brutal she didn't even leave any comdic quote and end to cheer me up again so i ended up depressed the whole day… fuck it, i loved it.

Creation had me pretty fucked up for a few days too, but more in a lovesick way, i would cry whenever than scene came up in my mind, and not to mention that i cried for an hour straight after that book ended… like THAT'S what you call true love bitches, argue with the goddamn wall-

i hate when good books come to an end, because my imaginary world fall apart with it

i should start studying physics now, tomorrow is my exam… can't believe i read 54 chapters, a goddamn book, instead of studying a mere chapter of physics for my exam-

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fuck it, i'mma just take a nap for 90 mins then wake up and study, too depressed to do anything now lol

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nvm i ended up sleeping, my exam went average, enough to pass

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i'm re-reading Creation again with my bestie, we started at the same time. I'm loving it lol. 10/10, would highly recommend 😎

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just finished work, 11:30 pm

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lmao sorry i ended up finishing it at around 2 am and i was crying for 2 hours straight 💀💀����

[lilacerull0]

hi jo, i wanted to ask you a question

Have you ever read Wuthering Heights? If so, what did you think of the book?

OHHHH BOY I'VE READ IT MORE THAN ONCE!!!!! I built a (haunted)castle for it in my heart! Not entirely sure about this (time. doesn't work in my head. at least not chronologically djxjxklslx), but I think it was my introduction to classic literature, Wuthering Heights? It's an interesting book to experience because it is bound to surprise you in some way. Prior to delving into it yourself, the description/warning you're gonna encounter from others that have read it is either -> it's a story about revenge! not love! OR it's a story about love! not revenge! (I agree with the second statement, but that's not really the point I'm trying to make. In this paragraph so. Closing bracket time!) The thing is: if you walk into it expecting either of those things, you are NOT gonna get what you believed you were signing up for. I think that's the beauty of it!

What's especially fascinating to me when it comes to Wuthering Heights is how incompatible these characters, Cathy and Heathcliff, are with the reality they were assigned to. Plenty of analysis I've read tend to tackle the morality of the characters, whether they are terrible people or not - but that wasn't particularly important to me as a reader. That subject, though significant and certainly worthy of discussion, didn't really strike me as the central point of the book. I think all of it is more related to what stands between physical reality and what goes beyond it, as well as the interaction between the two. Catherine's portrait, for example, was always interesting to me from this angle. There's a paragraph describing her that goes: "(her eyes) no longer gave the impression of looking at the objects around her" and yet in death, it's an object, her portrait, that draws something closely resembling a smile out of Heathcliff. It's because he too can see beyond it's physical presence. It's not ghosts that cross the lines between realities, it's love and I like how that isn't necessarily a positive thought in the context of the book nor a negative one, it's just something that is. Wuthering Heights is proof that no genre can survive if love isn't at the crux of the narrative, but it's also an excellent example of reshaping that main idea so that it can fit the genre you were going for. Not to quote Springsteen here, but I'm me and this is my blog so this is what you're getting -> it's literally:

(from atlantic city)

And there's so many ways to read into that (it extends to the multi-generational themes of the novel as well, it fits perfectly!) I HAVE to highlight that this is not a book written to appease... (BIG FAN OF THAT!) the central love story is not selfless (quite the opposite actually), but that doesn't make it any less romantic (and this is coming from me lmao). I think the portrayal of love as selfishness is kind of what everything circles back to, but once again it's not what you expect it to be, that statement... Both Cathy and Heathcliff exist in this intermediate step between realities (a concept embodied in Wuthering Heights and occasionally reflected in objects such as aforementioned portrait), hence their incompatibility with all there is except for each other -> if one can even refer to them as compatible? They are of each other, almost like they were split into two by mistake. A failed attempt to make them of the world, to establish a sense of belonging to the earth, to heaven, ANYTHING... instead of splitting those qualities into sharp, but comfortable opposites such as reality and dreamland perhaps, a fundamental contrast in this book, they ended up with identical, equally odd natures, identical souls that have been forced into superficial contrast... IT'S HAUNTING!!!!! IT'S ROMANCE!

[blkkizzat]

Happy Thursday 😊

Omggg i love that idea of reader being engaged maybe to Naoya (ik he nasty but him and his bleached hair and tight black shirt does things to me)

STOPPP THE PTSD I GOT FROM PLUG!CHOSO WAS SO DELICIOUSSSS like fr i need to send you a whole ass book report on how that fic made me see colors i didnt know existed because 😵‍💫 its my weakness when the angst only affects the male character and not the reader HDJSKSKA i been suffer too much in my life to want to read about a fictional me suffered so why not ruin a fictional man's life 🤷‍♀️ that fic came to me at a good time because honestly i was spiraling a bit over some fic i shldnt have read where reader was this pushover who got cheated on (and then threw her virginity to the man who cheated on her 💀)and i had to nope outta there so fast bc that personally aint for me, thats why im saying i looove your bimbo reader and like, she aint takin shit- she causing it 😂

Otaku!Gojo wasn't incel coded to me at all btw, in case i said smth that made you think otherwise 😭 he gen seemed like just his goofy ass self i love him so much. Also semi rare opinion but I like the virgin gojo fics because I really do think as much as gojo is such an extroverted little bug, he really does have his walls up on who he lets in emotionally 🥲 I feel like he might even have some internalized "well im not gonna date or fuck around because i dont want to drag anyone into my ugly world" hsjsjks idk i just feel like he might force himself to be lonely because he takes his responsibility seriously. Aughhhh, especially if he's in love with reader? I feel like man would be in the friendzone for years, be the best man at her wedding, and live and die loving herrrr 😭 im delulu but its just so loverboy gojo to me hehe. Also omg I have so many requests I wanna make before they close but honestly I'm secondhand exhausted from reading all the fics you already got going on LMAO

p.s your about the editor- ummmm excuse me???? YOU'RE SO GODDAMN PRETTY!!!! Like you gen have doe eyes and flawless skin I'm so jelly. Also i love the gloves w the dress 😍. You didn't ask but visually i would ship you with toji 😤 yall would have that bonnie and clyde hitman x bad bitch aesthetic going on !!

🍒 nonnie

🍒 nonny!!!! hi babes you doing good today???

LOL i totally feel you though, i wanna hate naoya so bad and then i be finding myself hate reading naoya x reader fics with a hand in my panties he's such a lil worm tho 😭

LMFAO listen i have that nicki quote in my m.list for a reason. tryna give these men trauma fr 😩. i want them absolutely SICK over us LOL! i totally get that, i hate when its a really well written fic too cause im like damn i wanna read more but i dont wanna be in my bed depressed tomorrow dkhsfliahsd.

but i feel like authors always come out a bit in our work, im definitely bimbo/brat reader. i do not take shit from these dudes irl so im not about to write reader getting cheated on or played unless reader is about to go scorched earth gone girl on their asses lmfao. like entire lives ruined lol.

also omg, yes, yes, yes. i totally agree about gojo. i actually think hes very emotionally stunted in canon, as its suggested by him, geto and sukuna in later chapters that being the strongest comes with isolation so growing up with so much expectations i feel as gojo sees himself as disconnected from others. in AUs i feel like this can manifest in him becoming more isolated. i almost feel like he's an extroverted introvert. that he probably feels more used to being isolated but still feels that need for connection. so yes friendzone for years. omg (not you making me feel bad for this man now lmfao).

You can make more if you want! like idk when im gonna get to everything cause im at the mercy of my adhd but honestly with all the fics i do have and these requests i think im pretty solid until the end of the year lmfaooo.

ALSO OMFGFGFGFGF you gonna make me cry whaaaat. tysm!! i went to a charity auction for my mba program. i work from home and im legit in a bonnet and an anime shirt 80% of the time so when i have the chance to glam up i really like to do that! ALSO WHAT!? GET OUT OF MY BRAIIIIN LOL!! So i thought of this one selfship, that i was going to make into toji x reader that was pretty much bonnie and clyde kinda relationship. but i didnt really know where the fic was going besides us causing general chaos and being super downbad for each other haha.

but omfg tsym for the long beautiful ask you're so sweet omfgbsjdbasdkj id die for you 🍒 anon you da best pookies!

[terramythos]

Mort by Terry Pratchett Reading Notes

Full Review Here!

So this book also opens with a young person and their parents. As did Equal Rites which I need to restart 

Ok so I didn't take notes as methodically as usual to start But as with Guards Guards it is very funny, with jokes that just keep coming back when you don't expect them. Lots of good bits and parallels 

And the fucking MORPHOGENETIC FIELD fuck 

-i like Mort but he's most certainly going to do some Dumb Shit. He is also very blank slate in terms of protagonists. His most consistent trait is reminding people about his name. Which I imagine will have some payoff 

-I find some of the parallels funny like death clearly taking on Mort to maybe get together with his adopted daughter after his dad talked about that exact thing (in that context seemingly ridiculous). I hope there's more to it than that however. 

-and I do wonder about how succession with Death would even work. As I'm pretty sure Death in this book is the same entity in the whole series 

-not to make this elder scrolls but I guess they could do something like Sheogorath where you Become that person in every significant way after inheriting the role from them. I'm sure there's a better comparison/example lol 

-but Mort could just be a. Friend or something. Which would also be fine 

-I'm sure sexy witch won't be a Thing at all later  

-Listeners hear every sound in Discworld? 

-"light dawned on Mort, but very slowly" lmao 

-ok Death showing up to someone who perpetually reincarnates is a little bit funny. What Is the point 

-'cut the heir with a knife' what a pun. Insane 

- interesting to frame Mort saving Keli from her perspective. So we don't know exactly what he thought as he did it. And this was presumably a Very Bad Thing since she was supposed to die and he killed the assassin instead? 

-so many anachronistic similies and metaphors. I guess that is appropriate for this book specifically 

-also idk if this is relevant at all. But Keli not dying has a big butterfly effect, obviously. But what about the assassin? Who were they? How would their death change things? 

-i have to imagine no one really noticing you exist suddenly without being FULLY non existent would be pretty awful 

-"there's no justice. There's just you" will this come around again to a "just us" 

-ok Ysabelle kinda goth. Which like obviously, but nice  

-oops! You made a split timeline 

-theres something interesting about this? Border? Between realities an 'interface'. Cause that has a very specific meaning in 2024, but I bet it read different in 1987. At least a little 

-i like the narrative dropping A Big Hint for the reader by noting how the character did not notice it 

-the description of how Mort has changed might be The Quote 

-a fan of something being so real it's uncanny. Especially in the realm of fiction. Gives me Inkheart thoughts 

-ok the whole thing with Mort being able to walk through doors and walls was introduced EARLY and continues to be so. And Death seemed to consider it normal. But what causes it? Why does it only work sometimes? 

-this is a fairly familiar plot where you change 1 thing in history and everything else changes as a butterfly effect. The main difference so far is it being a delayed reaction. I want to see if Pratchett does something different with it otherwise 

-capital L Logic "taking the night off too" 

-so a split timeline will heal itself but Mort is going to fuck it up again? 

-a fucking island named KRULL? No way, no fucking way. Hold on I have to look something up 

-2 thing I learned googling Krull: the MOVIE Krull came out in 1983, 4 years before this book. So it is very plausible Pratchett knew of it. Second thing is Liam Neeson was in it, which I was somehow unaware of or forgot 

-"why did you save me?" "... for later" God damn why is Pratchett clever 

-Mort suddenly scary! And here I think is the first bit where he doesn't say "Mort" when someone calls him boy. Instead he's scary about it. So. That's a fun play on what I expected. 

-we have. Switched to present tense. I see 

-im not sure what this revelation about Malich is supposed to be implying. Maybe I missed something. I think the only person we don't know anything about it Deaths butler? Guy? 

-oh yeah. Albert is his name. And the famous wizard is Alberto Malich. So Death like. Adopted a famous wizard who's now like. A cook? 

-my biggest area of criticism with this book is I just have zero investment in Mort's obsession with this random princess. Like it's an objectively stupid thing to cause so much trouble over. Doesn't even know her. Maybe that's the point but it's hard with no investment whatsoever in it 

-A PET SWAMP DRAGON??? I UNDERSTAND THAT REFERENCE (read: the only other book I've read in this series) 

-trying to imagine how shooting Mort would even work. 

-it is difficult to convey how clever & funny Death's alternate typeface is when it shows up unexpectedly. Just an oh shit moment every time. 

-'if you win, you will [do this] ' 'and if I lose?' 'You will wish you had won' what a fucking threat lmao 

-update: shooting Mort did not work. 

-i know this book predates "bucket list" as a term but that is nevertheless what Death seems to be doing 

-god I thought the bit was gonna be that Death can't get drunk and then he DOES halfway through the scene. Then manually stops being drunk

-bartender: 'well at least this weird hooded figure seems to be harmless' (it's literally Death)

-no way can Albert be a wizard, he doesn't wear a wizard hat! So true bestie 

-i know Ysabell is probably like The Actual Love Interest but it is a little cute that Mort got so angry at people not using his name but went back to just correcting when Ysabell did it 

-theres a whole shelf! Aw fuck do we have a doctor who situation or some shit 

-no he's just been alive that long ig. Wonder if this character shows up elsewhere 

-Death at a job broker.... 

-Oh my GOD *THAT* was the payoff for the "Mort." bit! A fucking typeface wham line. Jesus christ that's good lmao  

-"Death must be the loneliest creature in the universe" either sounds like a quote from some ancient philosopher or an 80s prog rock album. But nope, Pratchett. 

-ysabell girlboss 

-kinda feel bad for Death finding happiness and the implication being he can't keep it. Unless Mort does actually become Death 

-and there's the idea of becoming real becoming more like death. All in a fictional story of course. 

-ok I am Compelled, finally, by Morts transformation. 

-i do really like how the "Mort." bit has extended throughout the book to convey his character arc and even got integrated into the storytelling in a meta way with the Death typeface. 

-this presents the idea of a human becoming Death as Really Bad because if you apply human morality and emotion to it, Death becomes cruel. Which sounds philosophical as fuck and all, but it brings to mind all the terrible things humans have done when inflicting death on others. It is comforting to think of Death as neutral from the perspective of an uncaring universe-- all things die, no matter what, but likewise, its hard as a human to see Death that way within the context of lives and experiences. 

-but there is some positivity to the overall story so I am interested to see the "good" side if there is one. I'm not sure there is 

-Mort is a blank slate character, i think intentionally so, so that as he develops we see how his mistakes and the worst sides of his personality manifest as he matures and becomes more Real, like Death. The actual Death character isn't cruel but when Mort is given the opportunity he makes selfish decisions (rescuing Keli) and cruel (how he treats Albert in this scene). So then my question is where do his Best traits manifest? Is it impossible for then to, in this context and with this kind of power? 

-man Mort is so mean to Ysabell. 

-the fucking speech check war between the Emperor and Vizier was pretty funny 

-oh hey, The Librarian cameo. And.. Albert called him a monkey. Oh dear. Also isn't Rincewind a protag in another series 

-"THERE'S NO JUSTICE," said Mort. "THERE'S JUST US."  --- Oh my god I fucking called it I CALLED IT I KNEW they were gonna use that line holy shit 

-"You are whatever you think you are" hell yeah 

-at least Ysabell punched Mort in the face. He kind of deserved it 

-shout out to The Librarian killing Albert lmfao 

-the elephant gets drunk and sees pink people 

-i mean good for the elephant going home. Ok king 

-i like the implication that the speed of night is faster than the speed of light 

-oh so we do get to play a game with Death? At the end? 

-"were all lives--from a personal viewpoint-- entirely the same length?" I mean okay damn 

-i like Mort thinking "you'll never beat him... the best we can do is hold him off for a while" about Death, but in the context of like. A duel. 

-i mean YEAH you CAN turn hourglasses over! Obviously! That's how they work! 

-the weight of a pearl, huh 

-I like closing the story with Mort reading his own book and that becoming the last of the narration 

Hmm ok! So I liked it. But have some mixed thoughts. I'll need to gather them together 

First off I loved the writing, Pratchett really was clever and had very unique and humorous ways of saying things. Stuff like "her voice could have kept milk fresh for a month" instead of "her voice was icy". And its not just wordplay but situations themselves. It is difficult to convey just how much clever stuff there is in the book because it would 

overwhelm anything else. I think that this is probably true for most of the Discworld books and is at least in part why they're so beloved. I have a hard time thinking of other writers with quite this knack for clever humor in such a nonstop abundance. There's stuff like this book introducing the detail that every person has a book being written that narrates their life, then closing out the book with Mort reading from his, and then using that as the closing narration. Like that's cool and brilliant. 

I like Morts character arc and how he goes from a blank slate to something more in order to convey how being Death's apprentice changes him. There is also fun worldbuilding and creativity on how Death's actual job works, with the tongue and cheek acknowledgement that even this is a personification and not really real. 

Deaths typeface is used as an honest to God wham line which is probably the only example I've seen of... a font conveying a plot twist. I guess technically this also happens in other Discworld scenes where Death shows up unexpectedly. But in this particular story it's not Death saying it which is why its so shocking. 

My main struggle with Mort is I had a hard time caring about or being invested in the main plot. For example, the inciting incident that kicks off the main plot is Mort making a selfish decision to save the life of a princess who is destined to die, purely because he has a shallow crush on her. I know it's intentional that their relationship doesn't really matter and is just surface level. But theres nothing to make me care about it at all, and when him doing this AND KEEPING IT SECRET FROM DEATH is the main source of narrative tension, it's a problem when I can't find any reason to care about it. 

The plot itself is very... loose I guess. It's a collection of scenes and vignettes a lot of the time that are only tangentially related to the story. Which is fine, but this makes the problem of investment in the story even harder for me. I was suddenly very compelled when Mort started to transform into Death and the personal issues of identity, human behavior, etc that this introduces. It just felt like that's what the story should have been about the whole time. 

Basically what carried me through the book was the clever prose and humorous scenes/situations. Which again, is fine! I definitely enjoyed reading Mort. It just didn't amaze me as a story. 

Probably the funniest thing is you could remove Albert from the story entirely and it wouldn't change anything. Like slightly rework the scene at the University near the end and you're set. It felt like Pratchett realized we needed a villain in the third act and assigned that role to a random side character so Albert was evil, briefly, then not as soon as Death dealt with it. Just felt very oddly paced and structured 

There are loose ends that did not get concluded and I'm not sure if this means they are explored in greater depth later. For example Mort bungles one Death collection and a witch's soul escapes mortality. Another is this persistent idea/theme of what's "real". We explore it a little but never to its conclusion. Mort gets a pearl which is supposedly a piece of reality he created. And there's the idea of one reality happening when it shouldn't and how the universe reacts to it. But it's very mechanical (literally turns into an artifact) and the thematic implications are still up in the air 

Anyway I'm thinking 7/10 cause it was good and a fun read, just didn't floor me

[rise-my-angel]

#'Jon yelling at the top of his lungs far too early in the morning that he was The Young Dragon.’ HAD ME LAUGHING#bc i KNOW jon had ned stressing every god damn time he yelled that

Ned Stark is waking up from another trauma ptsd nightmare about his dying sister only to immediately hear a 6 year old Jon outside screaming that, and he just starts writing a letter to Howland like "I swear to the gods I'm gonna throw myself down a well one of these days."

Howland just writes back like "lmao is he still in his dragon phase 😎"

And Neds like in all captial letters "THATS NOT FUNNY HOWLAND"

#also just that little moment between jon and reader at the end#having time to just be#return back to the little semblance of normalcy they knew growing up#with the sparring session#was very cute#until horn dog jon made an appearance#and then it was PHEW 😮‍💨

Jons entire existence is him internally telling himself not to let it turn sexual, but failing constantly because hes a fucking animal. Also part of it, is that he's had a lifetime of only being able to express his feelings in such careful, or mostly platonic ways that now he has the freedom otherwise, its difficult for him to not let that other side he always wanted with you, to not take over.

Sparring with you used to be fun, now he just sees how quick and how much you've learned from him over the years and just lets his caveman brain start controlling him. Turning pride into raw lust.

Jon has just a constant battle between: wants to spend time with you vs secretly has the sex drive of a fucking maniac

#also this fic is dangerous for someone with father and mother issues PHEW the way i always tear up whenever reader and her parents#have those good moments#growing up watching the show i was always indifferent to the baratheons#most of my opinions forming thru robert’s character#but this series has made me love the baratheons so much

I was the same way when I first got into this series, both books and show. I really liked the complexity of show Robert but I didn't quite pay attention otherwise. Until years later I did a reread and re watch and I realized how much the Baratheon family in general are so complex. Baratheon readers or Baratheon ocs are always Roberts child, but that didn't sound as interesting to explore to me. (Read more cus I accidentally went on my usual pro Baratheon propaganda rants, targ stans turn back here i say nice things about Robert)

Robert is actually one of my favorite season 1 characters don't get me wrong, some of his best scenes are entierly show only to the degree it elevated him from a book character of kind of just a piece of shit, to a man who let himself become a peice of shit and he tragically knows how far he let himself fall. He still has some of the best scenes and most memorable quotes: "One army, a real army. United behind one leader, with one purpose." Or "He came running at me. This dumb highborn lad. Thinking he could end the rebellion with a single swing of his sword."

Show Stannis is a lot more blunt and dry then even in the books but it works so well in contrast to Robert and Renly (who is actually pretty much spot on to his book version). You see his conflict of belief and he takes his duty seriously without pride and he understands his misdeeds do not make him a good person. One of my favorite lines is what he says to Ser Davos the episode before Renly is killed. "A good deed does not wash out the bad. Nor a bad, the good."

Or after he looses at the Blackwater, you see a really human moment where he comes to terms with what hes done, looking horrified at himself hissing in distress that he killed his brother. The show did not do Stannis justice because the show runners were not comfortable with his character, but I really think the changes made to him could have worked if I just re contexalized his justifications.

Show Stannis is fascinating because, much like Jon, a lot of his complex characterization can be found in his physicality and non verbal expressions. He doesn't talk a lot, so if you don't pay close attention then its hard to see why he is so interesting. He's a lot like Ned Stark in a way, but because Ned was also charming where Stannis isn't, he tends to get overlooked.

Same with Selyse. Now I've mixed book Selyse with show Selyse. Since in the books, Selyse does not dislike Shireen. Shireen is actually the thing which really keeps their marriage from falling apart because they both love their daughter. But Selyse in the show is sort of an under appreciated character. Show Selyse clearly wishes she and Stannis loved eachother and she tries more then her book counterpart.

Baratheon readers/ocs are just never Stannis and Selyse's because they are not easy to write and characterize properly. But I wanted people to see the sides of the Baratheons that I did, so I'm glad I've been able to show them in a different light then you may previously have thought of them in.

Jxhdhd

Ddd

Heart of the Great Wolf

29 - Shrouded Truth in Sickness

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 14k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, past child illness and death, mild mentions of violence, mild disturbing imagery, smut, p in v, light sexual descriptions

Notes: Jon is in fact not wearing a fur cloak in any of these scenes, unlike the show. As Dragonstone is very far South and is in fact, way too warm and humid for fur, Now, none of that matters, but it's important to me that you know that. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

For all that you had been doing, you could hardly remember much of what was said as you all sat around the painted table. Much of the Royal Fleet was typically at Dragonstone as it was far more advantageous then from King’s Landing, so for much of the fourteen years Robert had been King thus had allowed your father to serve his duty from home. On one hand it meant you stood watching him leave harbour for war so shortly since your return home. Yet, it also had meant only two short months later, you stood in the exact same spot watching him return. 

High on the black stones down to the shores you had stood high up, holding Shireen up right by your cheek and waving her tiny arm at the ships coming home. She had finally been old enough you could take her on simple walks around the castle grounds telling her stories the whole while of father. Your mother had said she would not be able to understand you, but you cared little. Always bright and animated as you spoke to her she was always engaged with what you said even as she neared three months. 

You perhaps had gotten used to how to talk to young infant girls like so from the last number of trips you had made to Winterfell. The first return you made was when you had met Lord and Lady Stark’s first daughter. A bright hair of Tully red, even moreso then Lady Catelyn herself, Maester Luwin had jested that little Sansa must have strong Tully in her blood more then Robb. She was a well behaved girl, quiet if not a bit fussy at times but you were quick to play big sister with her at that very young age. 

Arya was more of the one however, that prepared you in the end.

Mischievous and loud, always looking for something to do, or someone to play with her and she had latched onto you quite quickly. By the time you had returned home some months ago, your mother was about ready to birth Shireen. Shortly after she came into this world, father left for war so you had spent two months doing everything you could do ensure she didn’t feel neglected. She even at so young, had a babbling energy about her that clearly little Arya had prepared you to handle. 

So when father returned, it felt odd to suddenly be pulled back from spending time with her as he insisted on keeping you focused on your lessons. It was one night such as those where your father had his men all meeting around the painted table, your mother still recovering from giving birth and thus Shireen was left under the watch of her Septa. You were up with your father, sitting only a few chairs down from him with paper and ink in front of you. 

You had one easy task, or at least, one task with a simple rule. Everything spoken in that meeting, you were to write and translate, and it would be checked to make sure you had not let your time North let you forget all of your language lessons. Whatever they had been talking about, you scarcely recalled however. 

Reaching for the ink once more, your hand had hovered in place over it. In fact, all of you seemed to have stopped. Your Uncle Alester had later said that it looked almost as if you had accidentally caught sight of the candle lit flames situated near the empty middle of the painted table and had no longer had the ability to look away. The reflection in your eyes was tense, and you seemed not to have realized you were not paying any attention or moving. 

Only when he had called your name did it pull you out of it. But as if having no awareness of where you had been, your hand dropped and thus knocked the small glass bottle of ink all over. Some spilling onto the wooden writing desk sat on your lap, the bottle crashed down with a smash all across the floor and spilling more ink onto there and most it had made it’s way all over the front of your dress. 

The sudden onslaught of sensations had startled you greatly, causing you to jump from your seat with a gasp and all eyes flew over to you with various stays of confusion as to your outburst. But all you could do, was stammer. Looking at your father with no explanation as to what happened, but he had simply dismissed you, that he would look over what you had done up to that point tomorrow. 

The walk back to the corridors where your room and now Shireens room sat was frustrating. You uselessly wiped at the ink now ruined the dress on you with no understanding of what really happened between you in the middle of correcting a word you translated incorrectly to flying back as you had sent the bottle of ink all over you and the floor. 

All you did was reach your hand up, and your eyes caught glance of the flickering flames of the candles in the middle of the table and it was enough to take your mind away. Had that been all of it, you might have recalled looking into the flames and seeing strange images flying through it and painting across your eyes as they transfixed you to them. Until your uncle had called your name did it coincide with another calling your name that you, at the time, didn’t recognize, and it forced you back to the room you sat in. 

But, it wasn’t the only thing to happen that night, and thus it was forgotten for a while.

Passing through the corridors, you could feel the damp, stuffy air even from the distance and huffed in annoyance. You walked a bit further, peeking enough into Shireen’s room so that you could both see your Septa, but not enough she could see your dress and lecture you. “My father says I am to watch Shireen for the remainder of the night, that you need not return until mid morning.” Her brows narrowed as she looked up from the cross stitching she had been working on, calling your name in sternness.

Before she could say anything more though, you disappeared beyond the corner shouting, “Please leave her door open, I will only be a moment.” You heard her sigh and grumble but as you hid somewhat behind your heavy door you could tell she had left. Giving you the chance to peel off the ruined dress before she could see, changing into something much more simple but warmer. 

Only some minutes later and you made your way into her room. Shireen looked asleep when you had poked your head in, but it seemed the sound of your voice pulled her awake. Her infant’s bed with wooden pulls just enough that she could slumber without falling, you pulled the front and sides all the way down as she blinked awake more with a babbling on her lips. 

Standing up you moved to the largest window which had the ability to open, to the edge of the room, which Septa Moelle had closed. Annoyed you shook your head as you spoke to your sister in a dramatic manner, “Oh it is far too cold child, I will freeze to death before the night is even up.” Dropping to a more normal tone, “Honestly Shireen, you’d think she grew up in Dorne how much she complains of such cold. This is nothing,” your head turning to glance at her now sitting up more to watch you, “Wait until you come North with me in some years, now that is what cold truly is.” 

The cool breeze filtered in with a nice rush over your exposed skin that alleviated the damp air around the castle. Glancing to her once more, she seemed content as every to just have you speak at her. Unlike your mothers insistence, Maester Cressen said that as long as you speak to an infant, it helps them learn language faster. So it was alright she would not properly understand you for some time. 

“Now, which story should we read tonight? If you have any suggestions, speak up.” Turning back you ran your hands over a pile of books you had brought in to her room. Ones you did not care to read or keep for yourself anymore, however you thought she may was well see for herself if she found any interest in dragons and wars long passed.

So you begun to read the stories to her, spending many nights you sat crossed legged on her or your bed, with her propped up comfortably in your lap with a book open before both of you. You would read carefully out loud, pointing to each sentence you read as her bright green eyes followed intently. 

Voice morphing into low and high pitches of differing theatrics when you would go over something whimsical happening, gasping and pointing to drawings attached and helping guide her tiny hand to where you were pointing. Sometimes repeating certain words until she babbled out more nonsense before pressing a kiss to her cheek until she giggled. 

Four times now your mother had lost one of your brothers, and now The Mother had finally heard your prayers and hers and granted a child. A sister, and you were taking full advantage of what you were beginning to think you’d never have. 

Biting your lip in thought, your nails tapped against the cover of one book about The Young Dragon in consideration, when you heard a simple thud. Turning back, you saw a small doll laying flat on the ground and a little Shireen giggling along. Shaking your head, you left the books behind, walking over to her bed.

Kneeling down you recognized the doll was a brand new one father had bought from a merchant when he returned home. The dress had been hand painted to match that of the house colours even, and she clearly adored it. For the most part. 

Picking it up you placed it back on the bed, only to watch her toss it again with a smile. This time your eyebrows shot up as your mouth opened in a playful audacity. “Are we playing a game or are you just being a pest, Shireen?” Like you were a dog you fetched the doll once more, holding it in your hand up above her with a grin as you waved it from her reaching arms. “Only if you don’t throw it again.” 

This time she sat it down back on the soft bed as you took most of her attention instead as you sighed out, “Was I this much of a brat when I was your age? If so I see why father has so many grey’s already, you’ve been in this world but three months and I already feel as ancient as Maester Cressen.” You looked at her now more close up, and something made you narrow your eyes. 

It was hard to see in the low light, and Shireen only wanted to reach for you when you tried to reach in and check. Laughing you pulled back from her grabbing hands, “Hold on, silly girl, hold on.” Getting up you walked to the other side of the room to grab a lantern sat on a small table, walking over and hanging it properly up on the wall to the side of her bed. 

In the direct firelight now you sat back down facing her, reaching to gently tilt her face to the side as you tried to see what had gotten on her. “Does our Septa pay no attention, what did you get into in your nap that looks...” 

It was something unpleasant filling your veins as your voice faded out, eyes narrowing with a sharpness as you leaned in, keeping her close. It wasn’t something you grasped right away, until your hand let go of her cheek. Glancing down to the brand new doll now sitting abandoned at the side of her, you flickered your eyes back up to the mark. 

It was small almost like a tiny cut, but when you leaned in more reaching to turn her head even more so you could see, you realized that it wasn’t a cut that was on her cheek. It was a crack. A crack that sat with dry and almost flaking skin just slightly around it. In the uncomfortable pit forming in your stomach, you realized that it looked partially by the crack to be a mottled black, but the dry skin around it didn’t match the rest of her either. It almost looked-

The second you realized what colour the small patch of skin looked like, you had filled with such a sudden dreading fear that you were swooped with a painful dizziness, your hand dropping from her face in an instant. Not two seconds passed as you realized it, did your eyes and mouth widened in a horrored gasp, and you had turned and ran out of her room and down the corridor faster then you’d ever had run in your life.

Voice so loud that every man in the room around the painted table could hear you screaming in a desperate panic for your father, before you even could ascend the steps of the Stone Drum Tower. 

It had been a long time since you had a single solitary use for knowing it. The worst you could think of was that you had translated it entirely wrong and were worried for nothing, but few on this island knew how to read it. As far as you were aware, it would only be three and you certainly weren't going to bring it to the third it was for until you already knew without a doubt what it said.

The morning rained harsh over Dragonstone, and as you leaned your palms against the painted table you had to tune it all out in order to focus. You read and reread it so many times you couldn't be sure it even spoke words anymore. Maester Pylos had brought it to you, but you had looked at him with something held back as you told him to have someone fetch your father up to meet you, alone. 

Without any other word you simply had handed it to Stannis, “I need to make sure this says what I'm seeing before we do anything else.” A twist in his face your father had taken the raven scroll from you, and the translation was exactly as you feared. “You are certain?” 

Stannis looked it over again as sharp eyed as yourself. “You surpassed my skill a long time ago, if what you translated is correct then that would be more assured then my own.” 

One hand was draped across your stomach while the other let your elbow rest on your forearm and dig your nails into your bottom lip. You did not like the unease in his own gaze, turning to your father as an unsettled feeling rippled from your veins out and flowed equally through his as he continued. This if true, was something else entirely. “The last I had known of where they were, a spy of Lord Varys had reported her and her brother in Pentos.”

Shaking your head, you inhaled deeply as you stood straighter. “Apparently, she had been there to marry some Dothraki Horse Lord, last I knew of her Robert had ordered her and Viserys killed and his spy turned on him the last moment. Haven't known where she was or doing after that, I don't even know where she would have gotten..I thought all the eggs were gone.”

You could see the enormity of the skull in the underground halls of King’s Landing, and how much stories of Aegon’s Conquest were written in the worst severity known of fire and blood. Was this why he demanded Jon do the same as once done by Torrhen Stark? Bend the knee or be destroyed? 

“Evidently not. After Summerhall proved failure, it would take a lot of power to bring three to life as she clearly has. Who did this arrive for?” Gesturing to the raven scroll, but as your head tilted somewhat to the side with a narrowing look in your eye, the answer was already spoken as much. “It seems Aegon is keeping a few secrets of his own.”

The rain poured so loudly behind you, as if trying to wash out the fire already burning in your memory that flashed so green it felt as it it blinded you. You did that with nothing but wildfire, what would three flying beasts of their full potential do this time? Your voice was quiet, “You said he claimed he was the last of his family, obviously he knew about her so why lie? Why lie to us?”

His guess was as good as yours, “Garner sympathy, perhaps. Much of our family and the Starks are gone, meaning he may have presumed a plea of similar circumstances would soften our choices.” You turned around, knowing your father could see the tensity in your shoulders as you walked to the edge of the room, hands braced on the stone looking out to the rain splashing against the sea. Moments later, sensing your father approaching all the same matching the position. “We need to know what the boy knows. If he intends on bringing them to Westeros, we will need to be as prepared for it as we are for the far North.”

A squire sent out to bring Aegon up to both of you, keeping for now things all tucked away between the only ones who could even read the language sent of the writing. Speaking low, your eyes never peeled from the sea. “Why Ser Axell?” There was a small noise in his throat, the only indication of a question to elaborate. “Maester Pylos told me about the ceremony on the beach, you burned Ser Axell and two others that day.” 

Neither looked at the other, but your postures matched just as the held back coldness in your faces, his voice as controlled and tight as yours. “He was an infidel. I ordered him to tear down his idols and he disobeyed.” Your throat swallowing as you tried and failed to sense any emotion in the tone, and you couldn't help but notice that it wasn't calm dedication you sensed. 

Turning not enough to face him, but so that your voice carried just well enough to hear your muttering towards him. “He was my uncle. He was your brother by law, if you needed reminding.”

There was the tone, only, it emerged from Stannis just on the air of light enough, it made your mouth part as you twisted in something close to frustratedly amused. “If we are speaking in those terms, I could remind you that by way of your late husband, Jon Snow is your brother by law.” 

You could sense his eyes flicker to you just the slightest. Your eyes narrowing as your jaw clenched with almost a shake of your head. Whispering as your nails tapped against the stone, “Look at you, still having a sense of humour.” 

Leaning more of his forearms against the stone, you did as well. His voice low and in what only you could pick up was a slight mocking. “An ironic thing to say when it's coming from you.” That time you did turn to properly look at him with a furrowed brow. “You have many strengths, but humour is not one of them.” 

Matching his stance, you smirked half heartedly now both Baratheons watching the water. You chuckled just a bit, and so did he.

Your voice however, dropped back once more. “Everything got worse once I was dead, didn't it? This, my mother, the red woman. I don't know if I can say it only is coincidence all of this fanaticism got much worse after you all thought I was gone.” Stannis nodded, as your head dropped. Lungs tightening you tried to push out the thought that no one was responsible for your own families continued demise but each other. Maybe you were all destined to become this way. 

“I've never asked you to believe as me and your mother do. She took to it more, a true believer your mother is. Even now, she takes is to her heart and no matter what you dislike about it, it is something I see in too.” Your hand reached up, fiddling with what you had begun to think of as Shireen's necklace, for just a moment to keep your eyes dry. “But losing you, and realizing I could have done something to help prevent it and didn't? Your mother and I hadn't known we were to have a grandson until you were already dead. So yes, in our grief, in my guilt we let ourselves believe in it stronger then we should have allowed. That I should have allowed.” 

Unlike her necklace, you didn't reach down to run over where your scar was under your dress. You didn't want to once more feel it sink into you and twist as it had too many days since.

He continued quiet, your eyes both now on the sea of your home, and nothing but a heavy weight sat between you that hadn't been allowed to sit for a long time. If ever. “I almost lost you once, and then I actually did. All the same with Shireen. I can't change that, all I can do is work to be better then I am. Better then I was. I couldn't protect my daughters when it mattered most, and I will never have a bigger failure as my duty of a father then that.” 

It was quiet between you, looking out to the rain as it slightly blew now to mist gently over your hair when you thought of it. That you desperately hoped that in his final moments, Eddard Stark did not feel as if he failed his daughters. No matter where they were now, alive or dead, at least your father was alive to see it get better. 

But hearing the strain in your fathers voice even as he leaned just like you against the stone edge with a calm disposition, you dared not think of how it would have felt for Ned to die with that kind of guilt. 

By the time he arrived in the room, both you and your father had moved onto opposite sides of the table. The rain still pouring as Aegon closed the heavy door behind him, looking between you both with  a distrusting glare. Stannis gesturing towards the raven now sat by the edge of the table where the blue haired dragon had come in with a much more lack of patience in his tone then he had with you. “You speak High Valyrian, I presume. What do you make of that?” 

Both of you watched with close eyes as he read it over, but there were few which could hide their surprise, or shock, as well as they thought they could from both Baratheons. Glancing up slowly as his grip tightened on it, you wondered just how much of this information he might not have known in so much detail. If the unnerved silence matching his clenched jaw, spoke of. 

His voice was as controlled as any. “I presume neither of you brought me up here hoping I could translate this for you.” Your eyes were cold and without a single blink as they found his blues. “You already know what this translates as, what do you want me to say?”

Your voice came out as sharp and hissing as was the look in your eyes, hands perched on a chair in front of you. “We want you to tell us what exactly you know. About her, about them,” Your head gesturing to the raven he still held. “You do not get to stand there and pretend as if we do not all know what kind of a threat this could be. Your blood ties to that family does not excuse you from hiding something as important as this from people.” 

Glaring at you, he ran a hand over his face. Pacing to the side as you and Stannis both watched before he put the raven scroll back on the painted table. If whatever lie he was about to conjure up was confident, your fathers stern tone to almost shout over the rain took every chance of that away. “You came to us pleading for peace only days ago, that you are the last of your family and yet now we know for a fact that across the Narrow Seas, Daenerys Targaryean has living dragons. How about you start with why you lied, considering the King in the North and myself did nothing but lay out nothing but our true intentions to you.” 

Three monarchs were alone in the darkness of the room of the painted table, but for once it was the Targaryean heir which held not a single ally to look to. It took him a good while to find such words, and it had him on edge as neither you nor Stannis moved an inch waiting for him to speak. Glancing up between you both he sighed, then paced as he spoke instead. “I'm supposed to marry her, Daenerys.” 

If Aegon had noticed the brief glance as you and Stannis shared a twisting grimace he didn't mention it. At least you knew your father well enough that his comment about Jon was a joke. 

“They all thought it would strengthen my claim if I did, but if you had not noticed, I came here alone without her. I still have never even met her. I told you I was the last of my family, because as far as I've ever met, I am. I didn't even know her whereabouts until..” Hand gesturing to the raven scroll. 

It had said that she was finally reported by Vaes Dothrak atop a dragon, but that there were still some to be suspected under the temple of Mereen which was under her control. Your father's tone was before, was indistinguishably short and unimpressed as yours coming out. 

Stepping around the chair you came much more into his view, snatching a ship from the painted table's layout which was used to represent the Golden Companys own fleet, leaning against the side of it with your back against the table, staring unblinkingly harsh at the Targaryean. “Tell us what you know about them. Her dragons.” 

The fact that Aegon had to look down to meet you in the eyes took nothing away from the cold intensity that gave away nothing in such a firm stature. “The one spotted by Vaes Dothrak, is the largest, Drogon.” 

Your hands easily tearing off a sail from the wooden figure as you repeated but in a quiet mutter, almost mocking his more meek tone. “Drogon,” 

“She has two others, reportedly locked in the dungeons of the temple in Mereen. Viserion,” Ripping off another sail, you chucked it along the painted table once more as your eyebrows raised, repeating the name. Aegon glanced with what almost was to be a sigh to Stannis before finding again, no ally as he returned to you. “And Rhaegal.” 

Nodding, you tore the last sail off. “Rhaegal.” Nothing left of it, you under tossed it roughly to slam against the painted table, knocking down what other wooden ships sat by to represent that of Dragonstone. “We could have three dragons flying to our shores any day, and we would be powerless to resist. What does that say about your intentions that you chose to share this with none of the two Kings seeking peace on this island, until I had to translate your raven before it got to you.” Your head tilting to gesture to Stannis. 

The man himself, looked none impressed as he too moved closer. “I spent four years at war trying to press my claim for the Seven Kingdoms, and yet I've put that on hold beacuse I can't rule Kingdoms that do not exist once winter arrives.” Your eyes forced to stay in place, not to ask him about it, it wasn't the time nor your business about his involvement with the Nights Watch. “You and this woman mean to bring dragons back to our lands, scorch our earth and massacre our people when already a war is coming for us from the North.” 

For all spoken of being the last dragon, and the fire and blood of the family known for their undeserving pride, there was something not quite comfortable as he swallowed. He hadn’t spoken a word of this since you all had been here, and you were dizzy trying to connect it all to a why. “I never wanted..I didn't ask to be involved in her affairs. They tried to convince me to ask her for help but I said no. I came here without them, I got the Golden Company on my own to follow, I didn't need her help, and-”

Something in him stopped, as he looked between you both. Walking to the head of the painted table his hands braced against the top of the chair there. You and Stannis both shared a glance, something unsure of trust in both your eyes but allowed him to gather his thoughts.

“I know what they say about my grandfather, the things he had done. Hearing is one thing, but, knowing one of your own is out there doing all of that and worse is another.” Looking up to you both, finding something it seemed, a bit less difficult to look in the eye as something freezing washed over yours. “They say she performed some kind of blood magic to hatch her dragons, sacrificing her own slave, and ever since she’s let them turn her into a conqueror.” A drop to more of a strained whisper, “And despite my namesake, I do not use that title mindlessly, I assure you both.” 

You saw green and screaming, what you had done to even be rid of the wildfire brought to your shores was more monstrous then you ever imagined doing and yet it was nothing compared to what three dragons would accomplish. 

Aegon continued looking between you both now finding confidence in what likely he had rarely spoken of and finally getting out as terrifying as it kept becoming, “In Essos, her brutality is already legendary. She has taken the Unsullied for herself, and burned their previous masters alive. She crucified hundreds of noblemen in Slaver's Bay without a second thought, even boys as young as twelve for simply who they were born as without ever due trial for who as guilty and who wasn't. And when she grew bored of that, she fed the rest of her enemies to her dragons.” 

You tried to find the right words more then once, but Stannis settling on a calmer disbelief for his thoughts attached. “Why keep such a close eye on her movements if you didn't intend to warn of it?”

It now was even move clear, Lord Varys had kept a certain degree of strange information from these people. “My – Lord Connington wishes for me to take her as a wife. Secure a powerful rule on the Iron Throne and if so then have use of her dragons as well. I chose to sail here without her instead. I shouldn’t have to go running to my aunt for help like some beggar.” 

A low hiss in your own whisper finally clawed back at what he was focusing on. “This isn’t about who you wish to marry. We are not here to help you with a family dispute, we are fighting a war coming from beyond the wall-” Stopping the raise in your voice, you stepped back for a moment as your hand pressed to your forehead with a harsh pressure. Turning away until it eased up, you looked back to your father, only nodding once at you, letting you speak your peace, albeit calmer.

Facing Aegon once more, you gestured to Stannis before pacing closer and closer to the dragon. “He and Jon are the only Kings who care to protect the realm, before something we know nothing about comes for us all. What use is everything we have sacrificed if armies of Unsullied and Dothraki come to destroy the people’s homes, rape and enslave our women and children? Watch it be burned down by dragons and the daughter of the man Jons father and mine fought to overthrow?”

It didn’t matter if Aegon or anyone didn’t believe in what winter storms would blew through the realm without a second thought. The world seemed to be closing in on you, ice on one side and fire from the other and both were just as terrifying. 

You felt as if he were looming over you increasing in his own frustration as his face twisted to anger, stepping closer to you. Stannis on the other side circling around quietly as the Targaryean stood tall and large in your face with anger. “I don’t want any of that, I didn’t conquer lands or burn down innocent people just to call myself a King. I was raised to be better then that, better then her. I told Jon Connington I was the only dragon he needed, and I meant that. I don’t need to ride on a dragon the size of Balerion the Dread. I want people to want me as their King not be scared of me.” 

Narrowed eyes stabbed within the gaze of the other as Stannis stood now enough by him that Aegons shoulders tensed, your fathers voice was low and calmer. “Yet you are still demanding Jon Snow and myself, bend the knee and swear fealty to you.” The blue haired dragon only glared at you as you did him. “Knowing he and I, would be giving up everything we've fought for.” 

Biting your tongue as you inhaled, trying to keep your heart calmer before you muttered through more gritted teeth. “I stood against my father for three years thinking we would one day go to war with one another, and now he and Jon are working side by side to protect their people from the Others.” 

Looking between you both, the rain pouring down just outside the castle walls filling the air, Aegon swallowed. “If I don't fight for my right-”

Your father finished for him however, his voice low, and a sympathy within that had Aegon turn from you entirely to look. Not a comforting man Stannis Baratheon, but an understanding one. “I once thought that if I did not press my claim, that my claim would be forgotten. That I would be just a page in someone else's history books, but I'm not fighting for it now. Not here. I saw the truth, and it is coming no matter if you believe us. But we have been honest, you kept this from us.” His head nodding to the raven. “You mean to cut off our legs and leave us crippled to Daenerys Targaryean and her dragons, all so you can pursue the Iron Throne without competition. I would suggest reconsidering Jon Snow's offer to discuss terms with him, he convinced me this war the most important one, maybe if you have enough intellect left in you, he will do the same again.”

You had told Aegon you would go fetch for Jon yourself, sending him off closer to the main grounds of the castle as the rain only barley begun to ease up. Before turning the corridor, you looked back to the dragon before he could turn away. An unpleasant glare in his own eyes that faded into conflict as they drifted into anger. “If you wish to follow your ancestors, be that Rhaegar or your own namesake, we cannot stop you. But he won't kneel for you. Jon is not Torrhen Stark, and he never will be. But winter is coming, and we're running out of time, Aegon. Which means you're running out of time.”

Many woodland creatures looked at the approaching figure as a beast, large and terrifying as sharp eyes saw all. No noise was made other then small ones scattered about as if they knew they weren’t to be food for this one. 

It was never not strange, especially now so far away to do so. So many times at the wall it would happen in his sleep and he tried to tell himself otherwise. They were only dreams he’d think to himself as he woke in the morning. At night Jon’s mind was filled with too much thought, too much work, and too much impending doom looming over the horizon of the far North and every night he found no solace. He dreamt of direwolves. 

Control is what a warg was said to be able to do. Find their consciousness inside that of an animal and control them of your own, and yet sometimes Jon doubted it was as simple as such. Each time he had found himself seeing through Ghost’s eyes he found himself knowing what he knew and needing no explanation to follow what path he was already on. 

Was Jon really the one in control of Ghost, or did they share that consciousness together? Because as he walked through the snowy lands of the wolfswood, Jon knew he was following tracks that of other wolves. He knew what he was searching for and there was no reason he should, but he would walk at night through the trees and search as Ghost would alone. 

Sometimes he would sit in on the meetings of the Lords in charge for him. At first questioning the appearance of the giant creature but settling once they saw he would only sit silent right where he could see the whole room. But now, as he walked the morning through the woods, he realized what Ghost had realized before him, or together he surmised. 

Whoever the wolves were which he seemed to be stalking, one left tracks that too large for normal ones. Ones Jon would step right into with a front paw and fit perfectly. Out in the wolfswood around Winterfell, Ghost was searching for the trace of another direwolf. 

He could hear something else in the distance. A mist somewhere on his person, that was followed by pouring of rain overhead and waves crashing against the rocks. It was that which kept Jon from losing where and who he was.

It was harder some days then other to remember he was a man. He would be back in the snowy North, his paws sunk deep into a drift of snow as he stood on the edge of a great cliff. Or dreams suddenly finding his mind inside of Ghost during a hunt, and he suddenly needed to kill and fill his stomach with fresh meat and dark blood. 

The feeling would startle him awake sometimes, the night before he had awoken just as his blood red eyes found, ironically, prey in that of a deer. For a few seconds, he couldn’t quite come back from how much Ghost’s hunger woke Jon, making his own mouth water. His hands tensed as if still paws and his nails acting as claws, Jon realized he was digging his nails deep into your hip almost drawing blood, and the force already bruising the skin. 

You hadn’t at least, woken up at the pain, Jon had well worn you out only hours before. 

But as he stood there now, his mind only was pulled back by the sudden sensation over his fur of delicate nails, scratching gently along his spine as he let a low growl out. But was the airy, quiet whisper making his ears twitch did Jon pull his mind back, reminding himself once more he was a man. “Jon,” A soft voice far from the North and Jon had to focus to come back. He was not a wolf. His hands had been braced against a high railing and his gloved hands strained at the pressure as the rainy skies of Dragonstone returned. 

You knew before you had even gotten to his side, his stiff posture unmoving but also with a tensity that was not indicative of the isolated spot around him. It would take not much more but a gentle coaxing to pull Jon back, not wanting to startle whatever path Ghost was taking him on so far away. You had almost felt bad, it was clear he missed the direwolf and there was little doubt Ghost missed him just as much. 

Letting him wander the North in the eyes of Ghost was also simply a way to bond with his companion so far from one another. 

Much work had been done under the grounds of the island. Tunnels and strange pathways that with enough men stretched deep and far with caches of Dragonglass amongst the strange sparkle of a cave that stood around you like a dreaming sky. 

Dragonglass was not for much use elsewhere, but it was certainly a very hard material to cut through, all tools needing to be as sharp as each others and as long as what broke off of the walls came down without shattering into tiny pieces that was all that was needed. It wasn’t the solution to save his people, it was a resort needed to protect those who otherwise won’t be able to protect themselves from what was coming. It killed the Others, it killed wights and if something came for you it was enough to survive. 

The rest of it all however, was trickier. But one step at a time, too much and winter would overtake everything and blind Jon and yourself to what needed to be done.  

It was almost adorable, the way you gently approached him softly whispering his name, and seeing even as his eyes paled over with an eeiry white, his brows furrowed in a brief confusion. For a moment it was almost as if a growl formed deep in his chest as you ran your hand flat and lightly up his spine before returned to you, blinked away the white and once more his grey eyes came back.

Not pressing him on what he was doing, instead he seemed to have gotten the message that you were trying to address him in a manner that wouldn’t tip off he was elsewhere as his back was turned. A flicker of his eyes to you, and you spoke low with a stoic look in your eye but a splash of amusement tinged behind your breath. “Aegon has decided he would like to discuss terms with the King in the North, peacefully that is.”

Jon’s eyes glanced more to your slightly clenched jaw and rigid posture, a small rasp as his hands tightened against the stone he was braced against as the wolfish sensation crept out slowly. “Are you and Stannis not invited?” 

Shrugging a shoulder, you didn't want to weigh him down just now with what was discussed just yet, hoping the dragon would be reasonable otherwise with Jon as many were. “We already spoke, however I wouldn't say it went very well. It could be he is a difficult one to work with, or..” 

Jons voice was low as it was amused, “Or it could just be beacuse it's you and Stannis.”

That pulled a chuckle from you, pulling your hand from his spine as you nudged his arm as a playful smirk was shared between your glances at the other. Not mentioning it to you, but he tried not to focus that the spot felt cold to Jon as you pulled away. Wrapping your shall around in the coolness just short of the rain Jon stood by, you leaned more against his side easy. “I'd wish you good luck, but it seems you are far better at having that with negotiations then I ever am.”

“You could be good at it, if you weren't so stubborn.” 

Jon smirked to himself as your own face twisted in a playful offence. “Is this your first time meeting any one from my family?” He chuckled more freely next to you, only your voice lowered a bit as you leaned more to look at him. “Is everything alright, home I mean?” 

Nodding, he looked out to the rainy island around and couldn't stop the feeling of how much he missed the cold and snow instead. If he knew how much longer he had to be here, Jon would have been counting down the days already. “It is, everyone's keeping the peace.” 

He needed to go, but as you both stood there for a moment the pair of you let the comforting, warm quiet between you sit. Never time to yourselves, never allowed any time to yourselves it felt. 

Small moments were all you had, Jon and Robb both it was starting to feel. 

Too many had been gathered in the hall, for what was suspected a crowd was the worst thing to be in the corridor. Your own shorter figure was braced against the door frame, hands perched on it’s edge as you watched the careful movements of Maester Cressen. Beside him was your father and the silent, solemn look between them made you feel even worse. 

None had ever seen you quite so openly distressed as when you burst through the door in terror saying something was wrong with Shireen. Your mother now stood on the other side of the door frame in a stilled silence contrasting how your muscles almost shook as you watched. 

Cressen was quiet, only for family but it was your mother’s shaking gasp wavering into a need to cry that told the rest everything they needed to know. “It is as she feared, my lord.” The second you had looked at him and said her skin looked cracked and grey he and your father had moved swiftly. Your father ordering his squire to fetch Selyse and bring her to Shireen’s room as he pulled you with them to see for themselves what you had seen. 

Whispers rippled around behind you and your mother in horror and concern. “We have to deal with this now,” one said. Another whispering, “Who knows which one of us already has it next.” A third in the back almost angrily, “She needs to be dealt with before we’re all shipped off with the stone men.” 

Maester Cressen at least, held a bit more peace in his tone as he spoke to only the family. “There are methods to keep it at bay to varying degree of usefulness. Most accounts differ to what helps, but to take the safest course I would recommend none but me have contact with Shireen for the time being.” 

Your father looked at you, “It was the doll you mentioned was suspect, correct?” 

Nodding, you looked at it now laying on a small table on a cloth to be wrapped up and burned away outside. “It’s the only new thing she has, and Septa Moelle wasn’t paying attention, Shireen was napping with the doll pressed to her face.” You could hear her protest behind you, but your head whipped around as the red in your eyes stung enough to raise your voice. “I always pay attention to her when I'm with her, you weren’t even on the same side of the room when I came in.”

You knew the older woman was not happy with your more insolent attitude in the past few years, her eyes narrowing in a lecture already. “Well I could hardly stop the disease from being on the doll could I have? What else would you have me do, child?” 

“Watch her-” 

You had started to yell, only to have your father call your own name sternly. Your body flipping around to face him again, but there was no lecture in his eyes. A rigid posture that begged to fall apart and a strain in his voice and eyes as he glanced to the others. “Leave us.” 

All but the family and Maester Cressen remained, as Stannis beckoned Selyse to step inside more before closing the door. Your arms had crossed over your chest, trying to contain the growing ache inside of it as you kept looking over at little Shireen oblivious to the world threatening to take her away from you all. Your father’s voice was quiet, and less angry then you presumed. “I understand how upset you feel, but I cannot have blame thrown around like that. This isn’t anyone’s fault. Including yours.” 

Your eyes flew down, looking anywhere but his and you despised how easily he had seen past your anger. Your mother was quiet toned off to the side, “She is young and it has only just appeared there must be something we can do.” 

Maester Cressen however, gave little hope. “Some believe cutting off the effected area upon formation will stop the spread, but that is out of the question in our case. I have a number of mixtures I can apply, and vinegar is also spoken heavily of something that prevents it’s spread to others. But other then that, there is little we can do.” 

You shook your head fervently, “No there has to be an answer somewhere.” He tried to explain otherwise but your voice raise only shook as tears begun to form behind your eyes. “We could write to the citadel, some book there must have an answer we don’t.”

Perhaps if this was a more affectionate family, Selyse would have been more willing to pull you back into an embrace with her at your desperation, but you all stood there feet apart as alone feeling as one another. “There is no harm in requesting aid, or even inquiring if they would be willing to look on our behalf.” 

Your father was braced with a hand on the high frame of the bed, eyes trained down on Shireen who blissfully was looking up at him with a smile hoping to pull one from her father back. His voice quiet as he never looked away or moved an inch from her. “Do everything available to you to treat her, and when you run out of options? Find more.” 

You slowly stepped around everyone, coming to the other side of Shireen’s bed. You only just got her, you had finally seen The Mother grant your years of prayers and let a sibling be born. You couldn’t let her just take that away so soon. You finally had a sister, you couldn’t let her slip away right before your own eyes. “Did you hear that sweet girl? Father will make sure we get you better, yeah?” 

Shireen was none the wiser, only reaching out with a tiny hand wanting you to return to her with a cuddle, and it only made the tears fall freely down your face. Would you ever be able to hold her again before the greyscale took too much of her? Would she think you hate her now? 

If the adults had spoken around you, you didn’t notice. Only silently crying as you looked at the confusion of your new baby sister not understanding why you wouldn’t come to her. Your father’s voice was full of a pain as it was a rough determination. “Maester, none but you and I will be allowed access near Shireen for now. Selyse,” Your father motioned towards you with a nod. “Have her septa prepare a room temporarily in another corridor.” You turned to look at him, and for once, he did not scold you for so freely protesting him over something. “This is not a debate. I almost lost you to a fever a thousand miles away, only four years ago. I will not chance this disease taking both of you now.” 

What you hadn’t realized at that time, was just how little you were about to be allowed to see Shireen in any way for well over a month. And even less so after only a fortnight from now when maesters, healers, and any other kind of potential for a cure came pouting into Dragonstone and left you feeling lost as to what to do all alone.

Other then who had been called upon to help cure her, the island was closed off from any and all people. And no ravens were to be sent or received during that time, not wanting to risk any chance of one of such birds or letters carry a hint of greyscale off the island. 

You had a painful feeling you knew where your mother currently was. The halls more empty in the middle of the day as windows all opened around let the breeze flow around fresh. Your room once more, had not been touched it seemed. 

Looking to the box still sat alone on a cabinet top, you ran your hands delicately over the surface. Deep blue with orange foxed adorning the sides while the inside you knew was a mixture of browns, and black and gold all forming that of antlers. You had done it yourself the first time, painted it to represent both your birth houses. 

You could see what was sitting inside without opening again to check, and you knew that it was the last thing you had to do. You had one last part of Shireen, but you knew another needed these. A loss she couldn’t blame her own fanatical intents for. Being back on Dragonstone was nothing but miserable and yet you felt something compelling you to give one last kindness of yourself away. 

By the time you had made your way down the corridor, you could see her door was open partially. The wind blowing her curtains against her bed with rushing water splashed behind and birds calling to the songs Shireen loved to sing when she was spending time in her room. Selyse was sat against one side of her bed, a paper in her hands, one of Shireens unsent letters to you no doubt, that her eyes refused to tear away from even as you stepped inside. 

Neither spoke a word while you gently sat beside her. The box closed and sat gently in your lap, fingers running along the sides as you looked around the room. Not much had changed since your last visit with her. Books more advanced sat scattered about, ones dragonglass and volcanoes choking your insides to the memory of her saying she would be a scholar on it by the time you came back. A want to impress her big sister by showing she researched the mines that you were carving into now. 

You never got to spend time with her as you both wished. Once she had been cured for coming to a month was when you and your father left for Kings Landing. King Robert had come to the island, beckoning his brother to serve as Master of Ships properly from the capitol instead of here, and your father had agreed and taken you with him. From then, only in letters and visits short and rare did Shireen still have a sister. 

Voice so quiet as she spoke, it was low with a distant sorrow sat heavy in it’s sound. “I was beside myself when we had gotten the raven about your illness. Realizing that we could have lost you so far away from where we could help you was terrifying.” The letter in her hands drifted down, folding back into the position she unfurled it from initially. Neither of you looked at the other. “I’m not sure I ever felt more scared however, then learning Shireen had caught greyscale in her own home, in her own bed. I was horrified.” Her voice even in such low quiet, still cracked in pain. “I almost lost both of my girls and there was nothing I could do to change it.” 

Far away on your own, you could see you and her here. You sitting where Shireen had been, and your mother where you sat, and the crestfallen expression as a reality hit her she did not understand. “I always promised to take her North one day, bring her with me to meet the Starks and she was always upset knowing you would never let her.” Swallowing heavy before pushing strongly forth. “She didn’t understand how terrifying it was. Almost losing her, having to stand and listen to father’s men all tell him to send her away before it was too late. Or how much you and father smiled when she got better.” 

Before however she had a chance to respond, you spoke a bit more firmly. “I used to think you blamed me for my brothers.” Her neck whipped over to you, but you only swallowed more with a clearing throat but the waver did not go away. “You stopped spending time with me after your first, and father sent me away after the second. I thought boys were supposed to come before girls and I had cursed you to lose the rest beacuse I was somehow killing them just by way of being around you.” 

You didn’t realize quite yet, that her brows narrowed as her eyes shined with a mist as you looked down to the box. “Everytime I would write their names on paper, spell out the prayers I had always heard Septon Barre bless the other children with under the Seven, and burn it into ash. I’d hold them with my own blood and let them wash into the sea. Everytime I prayed to The Mother begging her to forgive you, to forgive them and let them pass into the heavens and be together. They were my blood and my fault so I needed to pass them on.” 

Selyse stayed silent. “I made a toy for each. Wanting to give them something hand crafted and so everytime I put the new one in here when they were gone.” Your fingers now trailing over the top. “Hid it away so that no one could take them from us, even after the Mother took them from you. But they weren’t my sons, they were yours.” 

Turning to look at her, neither of you hid the pain. You gently handed her the box, her gaze looking it over before carefully pulling the top off. Your heart weighed far too much in your chest as you looked down at them all. Taking her time to gaze over each one did she realize you had gone back to carve a name into all four of them. Her voice a disbelieving whisper. “Petyr, Edric..” 

“I did the same the first night back here with Ned.” Her eyes once more looking to you, but you looked at no one but the memory of deep blue eyes and an astounded laugh of joy. “I will always have part of him with me, every time I look in a mirror I will see him against me for good, but you don’t have anything of them. And as far into the future as I can imagine the second I leave this place I have no plans on coming back. They deserve to be in the hands of a mother they never knew. A child doesn’t deserve to have never truly met their mother.” 

This time, you weren’t sure who you were even referring to anymore. Your life or your dreams.

The quiet was palpable as she looked at them, for a good while enough that you tempted standing to make your leave when she spoke. “I didn’t know my grandson had a name. Or that you had named all of my own sons..” Strangely, a small laugh left her lips. “You already were a better mother with your own brothers then I was to my own daughter. I can’t take back the years we didn’t speak, or the war we were on opposite sides of but I can start atoning for it now.” 

Placing the lid back on, she put it to the side before turning to look at you more directly. The memory of waking up in Winterfell with Catelyn Stark so gently running a hand through your hair trying to ease you into things without being scared or confused hit you. But as so many years later the act was done by your true mother, you had muttered a quiet “Aren't we a a fucking pair?” 

Eyes widening, your name in a scold came flying out of her lips in disbelief before taking a beat to pass and then laughing. Something you don’t know the last time you saw Selyse do. Her hand now mindlessly smoothing out messy strands at the side of your hair, “I suppose one Queen to another I can’t quite scold you for language any longer.” 

You thought of your Uncle Axell, her own brother and what Maester Pylos had said but in truth you wondered what the point of bringing it up to her was. Her belief was stronger then your fathers even now, and had already witnessed how tight the red woman’s tendrils had been wrapped around her mind to think nothing of monstrosities. It didn’t make any of it right, but Selyse wasn’t a monster. 

Just a woman who spent much of her life ill, and too many years as a mother losing her children over and over again. You only had lost one, and you knew the things you in that year with the Boltons had twisted you into believing, things that to this day Jon was still finding spots it was tangled deeply in your darker psyche. 

Selyse and you were different for those things, but Stannis also told you of how he and your mother seemed to only let those beliefs get worse after they thought you were dead, and you knew that was no coincidence. Having no grasp of letting the red witch burn her brother alive after losing her eldest daughter and grandson in one slaughter. You still if you thought hard enough, could feel how much your hand stung in the pressure as you sunk a knife so deep into Myranda’s tongue and mouth that you hadn’t noticed until the next morning you had her blood splattered across your face and even then you almost cared not to wipe it from you. 

Or how if Theon let you walk into that room, you would have wasted no time carving a number of sickeningly horrific things into Roose Bolton for every wound you and Robb had been killed with. A chilling memory of how if you were lucky you would have done worse to Ramsay that night. Horror in grief made the mind desperate to find answers in the blood that traumatized you in the first place, and you found it harder and harder to look at your mother and hate her for any of it. 

Stannis was another story, it always was with your father. You and him too alike to find harmony in the ways you always saw in Lord Stark with Robb, with Jon. Those three of them cut so close of the same cloth but not for a moment did they clash. 

In many ways Stannis was similar to Ned Stark, and it was why you suspected he and Jon seemed to find ease in working beside the other. Jon was raised with the best of values his father could pass to him, and it was those which Stannis respected more then anything. But the aspects of you and your father which were similar blended as well as drinking wildfire with a dash of honey to soothe it down. 

The honey works for the bitter taste on your tongue, but the wildfire will still twist your insides and expose that it never really would go well in the first place. You were finding it easier to stand in the same room as your father, but there were things you couldn’t quite get passed but now perhaps it would be easier if you both understood that.

On the opposite end, Catelyn would hate you for finding love in Jon after losing Robb and, and Robb’s unborn son. But you knew it was none of those things which ever caused the divide between you and Selyse. A difference in core beliefs and what was right and wrong were the stops and the sights of fire as a terrifying horror versus the inevitable godly truth. 

She was trying, and she didn’t hate you for having such different choices and beliefs then her. The woman who raised you half of your life would hate you for simply loving the bastard son of her husband. Look down on you for finding a life after being ripped from Robb in the brother he loved more then anyone, and solely would do so beacuse she couldn’t see him as anything but a memory of infidelity. 

The voice next to him was easier to talk to then it was days before, much easier he found. Jon stood over the outside lands, the rain having cleared up enough that they could stand outside and stay dry. From here, Jon could watch the sights of his men, as next to him Aegon watched Jon with an uncertainty flickering between things. Both men had put forth that the two of them talk things out more civilly, and at the least so far he found once no other eyes and men were there to watch, the dragon found a bit more personality in his words. 

“You make brooding over my failure here quite difficult, do you know that? You look far better brooding then I do.” As if unintentionally proving his point, Jon barley could muster half a smirk before it dropped once more. Brows narrowed watching his people, his only thoughts were how little chance any stood once the storms finally came and how so far he convinced all but none of the dangers. Aegon beside him filling the silence, “I’m the prisoner, I should be the miserable one.” 

Jon’s tone was flat but not unsympathetic to the thought. “You’re not my prisoner. We're both keeping our men out here in peace, and you can take them and leave whenever you want. I didn’t come here for you or your army, I needed one thing before the dead come.”

Aegon was having difficulty with the ideas. He wanted to sigh clearly, but Jon could see his gaze finding the side of his once more with a question. “You’ve been King longer then myself, how about you figure out what to do for my plans of taking Kings Landing, and I figure out what to do about your walking ice monsters.” 

There was something close to partially amused in Jon’s chest but it didn’t make it to the surface at all to see. Partially distracted by the thought of how he was beginning to miss the cold. It was windy on Dragonstone but humid and heavy in air the moment you left the close cliff sides to the waters. A once memory of looking to a summer in Highgarden and now that felt foolish, Jon wasn’t sure anymore he would be comfortable in any place that didn’t leave him a little bit on the edge of freezing. 

“It’s hard for me to fathom, you understand.” 

Not hesitating, Jon was confident as he spoke. “I do. But I also know that I sent two hundred men to the wall from an enemy I defeated, and that still won’t be nearly enough. We made pleads to the crown multiple times for help, but it was only King Stannis who came. He was the only one who believed us, and I’m starting to think I was lucky to get even him on our side.” 

Aegon stood silently for a good minute. Arms crossed over his chest as he considered the difference between them. He had been trained for this his entire life, he knew how to look like a King, hold himself like a King, and how to rally men and speak as a King. But it was in the quiet, rasping, deep tones of Jon Snow, that had Aegon realizing none his own training meant anything compared to a leader who had one cause he truly believed in. “He seems like an unpleasant man, but not one easily swayed by those around him. Says something he came to your aid, even if it was just beacuse of his daughter.” 

The silence between them was strange to Aegon as it was choking to Jon. What horrors had the Boltons forced onto you by the time Jon had finally met your father? How much had you thought everyone in the realm had given up on you when in truth both men were closer to you then ever without knowing? 

Then he thought of Mance. He rarely did anymore, his time with the King Beyond the Wall not long nor was it anywhere near pleasant. He respected him in many ways, but when trying to find the truth of what he really gained from knowing him boiled down to one thing. 

“You're a good lad. Truly you are. But if you can't understand why l won't enlist my people in a foreigner's war, there's no point explaining.”

If Jon could, he’d apologize to Mance for learning that lesson only after the man himself was dead. 

“She had nothing to do with it.” Glancing to Aegon with a clenched jaw, “Stannis coming to our aid, he did it on his own choice. She had nothing to do with that. She- we both thought she was dead.” He didn’t know what others heard about you or him, but it sounded less and less appealing to him by day having people know about both of your deaths, and both of you coming back from it. 

Beside him he could feel a tension. There wasn’t much he could do about that either, Jon had no interest in placating rivalries of almost thirty years passed. If Aegon was going to join him, then your presence would simply be something he would have to learn to deal with. His voice was controlled too, as if not to show Jon how agitated he felt. “It’s a tall tale you are asking men to believe. I don’t even know if I do yet.” 

Jons voice was nearing a quite irritated edge. “How do I convince people who don't know me, that an enemy they don't believe in, is coming to kill them all?” 

Aegon chuckled, and Jon didn’t appreciate it. He was included in that frustrations as far as Jon was concerned. Nodding amusingly, “Good question.” 

Jon’s response was short, and with a stilted anger that he had to reign in. “I know it’s a good question. I’m looking for an answer.” That feeling only compounded with the wonder, was it him that was the problem convincing people or their blindness to the truth? Would this be easier were it Robb standing here instead of him, Jon wondered. Robb was the better talker, after all. 

“What do I get out of helping you? I came here for the Iron Throne, not to fight ice monsters in the North beside a King who won’t even bend the knee. I help you and what would I get in return?” 

This time, Jon’s eyes did meet his. The grey painted dark enough it flashed with an angry frustration as he lost more of his patience with him. “That’s the problem. I’m not fighting this war to get anything out of it but to help keep my people alive. But the more of you who fight against me, or demand you only will help if you get something out of me? I don’t have time to stand here and teach you why you’re the one missing the point.” Jon stood a bit closer to him with not an ounce of patience left for this. “You’re fighting for some chair, I’m fighting to save my people. If you can’t understand why that’s more important then the Iron Throne, then there’s nothing left for us to talk about.” 

Aegon wasn’t nearly as confident, but he at the least, wasn’t hostile. “I suppose there isn’t.” 

The sight out in the training yard by the cliff side was an interesting one. Approaching the holdings for swords, lances, arrows and a variety of other weaponry you came to stand beside Ser Davos who was watching in amusement. Leaning your palms against the wooden holding you found a small smirk. “Is this how we hold meetings these days? Beating each other with swords?” 

The man chuckled, glancing to you with a playful twist on his own face. “I don’t know if I would call what they’re doing beating each other, your grace.” Looking over, you had to bite your tongue at just how correct he was. It seemed a few of the men had found use in challenging and failing to best Jon in a duel. 

“How long have they been at this exactly?” There were laughs shared amongst the Northerners watching around with the men of the Golden Company as if none were at odds just days ago, the ones on the main area were a few you did not recognize, at the side of an increasingly exhausted and frustrated looking Aegon against a confident but focused Jon. 

One lunged and was almost instantly overpowered with a few quick movements from him that they seemed not to even see coming, to which the Northerners around had a chuckle at as well as a smirk trying not to form on Jon’s own face. Ser Davos beside you letting it sit on his. “I think he’s been knocking most of them into the ground for about an hour now. I will give it to Aegon, he hasn’t given up yet.” There was certainly enough grime on the man to prove it had been a while. “Even if it would be in his best interest.” 

Leaning forward more, you let your forearms brace over with hands clasping gently together as you watched freely. The two kings now opposite, Aegon’s blue hair tied up and back as strands continued to fall in his face, whereas Jon’s curls sat loose and far less damp then his counterparts in sweat. His voice lighter then it had been in just as long, not a trace of burden and frustration pushing him down more then he deserved. “You’re paying too much attention guessing what I’m going to do next. By the time you figure it out, I’ll already have hit you when you weren’t looking.” 

Sighing out, Aegon squared his shoulders and readjusted his grip on the practice sword. “Focusing too much now, of course.” Both men looked at the other, as a second pair of men also stood by each side of the dragon. 

It didn’t last long. Biting your tongue hard you found yourself finding an appreciation you never truly had before. Jon fought with ease, as if his sword was simply part of his arm moving around them and the second one got too close, there was a teeth gritting strength behind his hits to move them off or incapacitate them. A harsh slam to Aegon’s face knocked him right back and easily had Jon all but slam down the sword from his grasp in the result. 

Thankfully, Jon didn’t look your way just yet. A tightening in your chest that heated your blood rushing along to every corner of your veins had you biting your tongue harder to keep such a stoic expression, you knew what he was like too much now. In a fight and more and such skill and strength swooped into your heart and made it race. Inhaling deep through your nose you felt it slow back to normal just enough to simmer the look from finding your eyes.

The gathering parting ways a bit more, Jon gathered what was scattered about as Aegon spat out what bit of blood Jon had hit up into him. Your eyebrows lifted a tinge without changing much else, voice flatter then he appreciated as you looked his way. “Well fought.” 

Glaring at you with a hissed, “Piss off.” You looked to Davos as a smirk did indeed fail to get covered up on you, your eyes much softer now glancing back to Jon. You truly hadn’t seem him at any ease in what felt like such a long time. Even for just now, it warmed you to see just a hint of it. 

Jon found a voice which sounded much like the days in the Winterfell training yards as he and Robb would still be much more inclined to knock you into the dirt yourself to teach you. “Fighting comes easier to some then others. You train everyday you’ll get better, but you can’t assume it’ll be enough to make you the best man in the field. Eventually even the best get bested.” 

Turning back with a twist on his face, Aegon argued “So you’re saying if you weren’t the best out there the other night, it wouldn’t have been humiliating for you?” Jon’s easy answer only of no almost made you laugh. If there was one thing he had none of, it was an ego. “Well it is for me. The rest of the Seven Kingdoms hear I lost my first proper fight to a girl and they’ll all laugh me back out of the country for being a coward.” 

It slipped out honestly, your eyebrow raised at him with a quick comment of “You’re too stupid to be a coward.” Jon and Davos both grinned at the ease of how you said it. Connington having watched silently from afar moved forward to grab Aegon’s sword with a yank, a silent comment on his lips likely telling him to cool off. 

Was he purposely circling around you like you were a prey being stalked? 

The evening sun setting in the sky still begging to rain again, but Jon had not let left the training yard, now only the two of you remained. One practice sword in each of your respective holds and yet he had not the courtesy to let you change from the dress you were in. A hard to hold back smirk of amusement on your face as you twisted and turned to keep your eyes on him. 

“What happened to not wanting me near a sword any longer?” 

A dark mischief sat in Jon’s eyes as he stood tall before you, a lightness still on his voice kept from earlier. “We both know you’re not going to stick to that.” A smirk on his lips was less cheeky and more of a soft fondness that bled into affection of the grey. “I know we haven't done this in years together, I’ll go easy on you.” 

Once upon a time you wouldn’t have believed him on that, but now there was not the confident aggression in his stance he was holding himself with hours before. “As if that ever lasts long.” 

Flashing almost black in his eyes for a moment did Jon almost stop in his tracks, you were purposely trying to rile him up. Throw him off track and he seemed to have caught onto it faster then he would have years ago. He was quick though, enough that you barley had a chance to turn around, but just as the two practice swords were to clash he had the strength to hold it merely an inch from colliding. “Besides, I miss just being able to spend time alone with my best friend.” 

The brightness in his eyes soaked through your skin and absorbed into your very heart, your hold on the sword in your left hand almost shook enough he could knock it out. Instead he did something unexpected, using a free hand of his own and running it gently along the loose hair at the back of your head as he leaned in, hovering over your lips. But your gentleness spoke before he could close that gap.

“I could name a fair few people who might object to me having that title anymore.” But just as his free hand raked down your hair you realized what he was trying to do. Almost with a ducking spin you nearly avoided being yanked back into him with his sword at your neck, taking a few steps back with a grinning audacity at his own smirk. 

Jon had gotten much better since you both last did this. In Winterfell during your last visit when Lord Arryn was still alive, Jon and Robb had teamed up on you alone taking easy turns all but tossing you around. Robb was overwhelming and fierce in direct attacks that had you only able to defend and never gain the upper hand, only to have you turned around and disoriented by Jon’s swift grace and using his unfair strength to shove you back into Robb. 

Even now you could hear Bran, Arya, and Rickon all watching and yelling as it onlookers of a tournament and arguing who was going to win. Ned Stark had approached the scene behind all of your views and watched his sons who were clearly toying with you. Not that he had said it, nor did you know, but he had commented to Ser Rodrick that it was impressive you had kept up as long as you had. 

Knowing his boys had done this since they were old enough to hold a sword. Robb and Jon would wake up early, and in the warm days of summer they wouldn’t even come to break their fast, just running out into the training yard and fighting until Ser Rodrick could finally come out and properly teach them. A many of those mornings they would choose heroes of old to be, yelling at the top of their lungs what great warriors they admired which they pretended to fight as. Some mornings as he walked the halls of Winterfell he would sigh deeply, shaking his head at how of all times his son chose to be the loud one it was the sounds of Jon yelling at the top of his lungs far too early in the morning, that he was The Young Dragon. 

But you hadn’t ever held something sharper then a dinner knife before coming to Winterfell. You on the second visit had begun learning to shoot a bow, and picked that up with ease. You were quiet and focused most of the time anyways. But never anything more. 

You hadn’t sparred with any that wasn’t a life or death slashing of genuine battle since he and Robb as they toyed with you, the small doe at the mercy of two true wolves looking at you like a meal. 

In truth, you supposed that turned out to be far more true then you ever imagined. 

Smiling and huffing a laugh was so freely falling from your lips, Jon was trying to challenge you but every upper hand he gained it was never aggressive. Just enough to push you back onto the right track as you both moved around the other, an ease almost with a laugh in his tone. “I know you’re quicker then that.” 

Inhaling deeply, you tried to focus more. Watch his actual movements and not what everything else was saying he was about to strike with. So far, you hadn’t had once instance to put him at the disadvantage. Knowing he could see you were trying to focus, almost coming to get close to a hit on him twice, both times he seemed to get you turned around. Certainly he was indeed the one who taught you how to fight with smoothness and not strength. Only he had both which was the problem. 

Glancing up at his curious gaze, you tilted your head down to your attire. “You wear the dress next time and tell me it’s easy to be quick.” 

Only, he too had a quick trick up his sleeve that wasn’t part of the rules. Finding your stride for only a few moments before Jon came close, and instead of making a hit, chose rather to grab at the flowing skirt of your dress. Yanking you right up into his chest as the chilling cold of the metal on the sword begun to drift flat along the insides of your calf and thighs, taking the edges right up along with it just enough to have you fluster in an instant. 

Jon’s voice only a husking deepness as his eyes drifted down for a second to your lips and further along what he could see. “I’d rather rip yours right off you.”

The dullness of a practice sword posing nothing to feel shaking nerves about, instead finding it in how strongly you felt a flush in your veins grow hot and begging as you failed to find the right way to turn the situation on it’s head. Instead one hand had pressed up against the leathers on his chest as the other tried to keep a firm grip of your own sword. “Here, where anyone could see? A bold move, my King.” 

Oh did his eyes grow a full tint darker. Much more freely looking down at what he could see of your figure with a raw lust before leaning close again, his breath hot across your skin a he spoke deep in your ear. The hand which had your dress bunched in his fist let loose, sliding around now to your back and pulling you closer. Knowing you had not the right grip of your own weapon to over power him before he could you. “What about you? You going to let everyone see? No protest to someone walking by, watching me take you right here?”

The cool touch of the practice sword almost tracing along your inner thighs as if it were a teasing touch, his mouth drifting shamelessly to bite your neck. The hand flat on his chest begging to drift up to run through his hair but he had you pressed too close to his front to move. Your other hand very slowly shifting how you held your weapon as you spoke through strained, biting back moan. “Maybe I just know better then to fight back.” A hum in his throat as he soothed over the sting from his teeth with a gentle press of his lips. “Men are vile, dangerous things. A girl such as myself knows better then to fight back when she’s at the mercy of a man like you.” 

His arm around your back pulled you closer, his other hand losing any purpose in it’s trace along your skin. Giving another growling bite to a lower spot on your neck, pulling a high gasp that almost was too loud in need. His rasp muffled against you, “And what kind of man am I?” 

A few answers rung out, but just as you spoke gently leaning more into his curls to mutter it, his grip tightened. “A brute who lets his guard down.” Twisting right out of his grasp Jon pushed back against your counter with a bit more aggression before he overwhelmed you enough he could snatch your sword right from your hand. 

Tossing it to the side with a clang, he then snatched you and flipped to pull your back into his chest. An arm wrapped around your front keeping your own under his, and the other gently letting his practice sword rest at your neck. This time his rasp was deep and rumbling in your ear, his arm pulling you back more as you almost let out a tiny gasp, feeling him press his hardening, covered cock into your ass. A shiver flew down your spine. “Maybe this brute should drag you back to his cabin. All alone in the woods. Strip you bare, mount you on top of my bed and claim you over and over until you’re crying anytime I try to stop.” Your breathing picked up drastically as he rumbled in your ear. “Is that the kind of man you think I am?”

His free hand sat flat across your stomach, pushing your hips back into his covered cock more as he stepped forward into the plushness of your ass. You partially tried to turn to look back at him, “Sounds more wolf then man if you ask me.” 

His head dropped again, moving the sword down to drop before tightly holding your hip, his teeth and lips finding more home in your neck. His strength alone was powerful enough to keep you in place. “That would make you my mate, you know.” His grip tightening as you shivered against him. “And a wolf has a duty to fill his mate with a nice, litter of pups.” 

Jon once more felt that sensation as if the two of you were being watched, but you shook more in his touch and a whine sat so close to leaving your throat he tossed the feeling away for now. You close to forgetting that you were out where any could see, leaned back heavily into his touch grasping at what you could of his forearm. Jon suspected you didn’t even quite realize how desperate you sounded or what you were even asking for. “Jon, please...” 

Unable to stop the thoughts, all Jon could do was growl in his head, oh he will. He’ll fill you deep with his seed as many times as you could take it, and Jon was slowly uncovering just how much of his seed, how much of that intensity you could take.

You discovering how much you felt like your life held true purpose when Jon would kiss you, touch you, and take you again and again. Making it to the room you both were staying in was going to be a true test of will power at this rate. 

Forgetting the rumours haunting you, for as long as Jon was as bare as you were? Hips grinding roughly against yours, his thick cock thrusting deep inside you, as his hands gently interlocked his fingers with yours, pressing them with a need into the sheets at the side of your head? Well, it seemed like nothing else existed in problems or mind but you and him.

Some nights, it felt as if truly all you and Jon had in this world anymore, was each other. 

[aerltarg]

honestly fuck every “dany doesn't have any idea what courtesy means” or “dany just The Angry TeenagerTM” bullshit. these ppl literally have never read any of her chapters.

just look how many times kraznys mo nakloz insulted her, while she actually understood him, but did she lose her temper? did she throw a temper tantrum bc she wasn't getting any respect, let's alone the one fit for a queen she is? did she forget her purpose bc of any of that?

just tell me how many characters in this series would be able to keep a straight face hearing such insults directed at them.

but when did dany come close to losing it?

as one of the quotes above shows, when kraznys started to harm others, the unsullied in front of them, “it was hard to pretend not to understand”.

and even more so there:

some characters in these books can't master a single drop of sympathy when ppl are dying in front of them but dany gets so angry and sick after hearing all of this that she started to feel faint. long dead infants whom she never met, long dead dogs she never saw, and yet she almost dropped her play after just hearing abt them and carried these feelings towards the very end of the chapter, after many hours since she left kraznys.

it's the first chapter where we actually get to meet the slaver's bay and the real face of slavery. and grrm went out of his way to show us how ugly it is w every single detail. the main representative of slavers there is kraznys and the man managed to insult literally everyone around him almost w his every breath, revealed himself as not only incredibly cruel slaver but also a misogynistic piece of shit at that.

in these quotes i also highlighted some passages, like kraznys laughing at dany for showing kindness and compassion and openly despising her for this as well as talking without blinking abt men being sold “for less than the price of their swords”, abt many atrocities done to unsullied, abt forcing them to murder infants in front of their mothers, calling incitement of a bear on three little boys w non-existent intention to allow any of them survive “a nice folly”, etc.

and i dare anyone to look me in the eye and say that “slavery is complicated”, “it's a part of their culture” or “grrm doesn't write slavery as clearly evil and deserved to be destroyed practice”. i dare you to try and say that kraznys didn't deserve to die, that dany is wrong for killing him, that dany is mad for doing so, that we aren't supposed to cheer for her, that she isn't a hero for that and freeing unsullied and the whole anti slavery campaign.

i can't imagine how anyone can read these books and come to the conclusion that “slavers are innocent” LMFAO

btw, a child murder is portrayed as one of the biggest sins and the worst crimes possible (if not the biggest and the worse) by the narrative all the time. so grrm filling the very first chapter we spent in the slaver's bay w the great variety of violence, abuse and horrible deaths of children inflicted by slavers is NOT setting up slavery as “complex issue”.

it was pointed out again and again but i will repeat once more. grrm doesn't give the purely evil monsters any redeeming qualities in his books. not a drop of greyness. it should be obvious enough already. and yet fandom doesn't have problems for acknowledging this w gregor clegane or boltons. but when it comes to dany? suddenly it's “why wouldn't anyone think abt poor slavers” and “but what abt the economy” or “it's their cUlTuRe” lmao

i also would like to point out a really tiny but curious detail that probably isn't a thing put there w a purpose from grrm. though, maybe it is... but anyway, this chapter is Daenerys II, ASOS, that that comes after Arya IV, where we have gendry talking abt thoros of myr, how he used to bargain w a blacksmith over a price of his swords (“slave swordsmen can be had for less than the price of their swords”, remember?), and Bran II is the chapter that comes after Daenerys II where we have the line “Some people hurt others just because they can” in the context of winterfell being taken by ramsay and boltons' men w the great unnecessary violence, e.g. murdering all the ppl living in the castle.

tldr; you need to open just one (1) random chapter to see what a nonsense bullshit antis invent in their obsessive attempts to hate on dany. 1) dany is very smart, perfectly knows what courtesy and self-control is, but also is a very kind and compassionate person w a strong sense of justice who can let any insults against her personally slide but gets infuriated when meets injustice and violence against others, esp innocent and defenceless ones like children. 2) dany is the hero we are supposed to root for in her fight against slavery just like we are supposed to root for jon when he decided to march against boltons or even for oberyn when he fought gregor clegane demanding justice for elia. dany is quite different from these men, though, bc she fights not over any personal reason but for the greater good, for many ppl she doesn't even know. bc slavery IS evil and it's needed to disappear, full stop. the “slavery is complex”/“some slavers are innocent” narrative is nowhere to be seen.

[vole-mon-amour]

7x15. Every time I have a big break between episodes, it hits twice as hard.

I don't think Spencer ever reacted like this to anything before? Lmao.

A pretty boy, indeed. Drawing him must be so fun.

There's something about this shot with the little girl's voice-over that's been murdered.

I don't think Dave ever sits on the table, but Aaron sure does (and often). I wonder what kind of conclusion I can make from this and make it into my writing. :) God, I missed those two. After having a dream about Aaron last night it's so nice to actually watch him and Dave moving and talking and just existing. I love them so much, my heart is always full for them.

@hogwartstoalexandria i think i get it now why you wrote that smut of yours. :) Immediately thought of it. Niiice.

<3. His hair keeps getting greyer and greyer, and I think he lot some weight (not that it's right or wrong, just an observation), and I just have so many feelings.

I often wonder why, with all of his neatness and the need to wear suits most of the time, Aaron never wears a tie pin. Would fit his imagine. Maybe it's a statement, though, Maybe he's not into those kind of details. Maybe David gifts Aaron a tie pin and cufflinks & it suddenly clicks. Maybe Aaron wears them on special occasions and for Dave only. Who knows. Not to mention there are also collar pins... The entire set for this man that is drowning in guilt sometimes and wears his tie like a noose every day. Don't mind me, I'm still in my feelings for those two.

Ahhh.

Slowly re-reading Mindhunter by John Douglas & watching an interaction like this is like it was takes straight from the book. Once again, the writers nailed that part of the show. And Aaron's reaction... that polite, sometimes even amused "fuck you". God, I love him. And I'm glad we've got Thomas portraying this character.

Here's a quote from the book BTW, from chapter 9:

"​It was clear from early on that a lot of folks, both inside the Bureau and out, ​really didn't understand what we were all about."

Husbands at work. Honestly, they take such big breaks between episodes, I need some time to get used to how light David's hair becomes. So fast. Still, I like them being represented. Older men in love. <3 And, on the last one, Spencer is in the back, riding in a car with his dads. <3 While Morgan, Emily, and JJ are in another car.

Husbands arresting the abuser/killer together & telling him his rights while everyone else is watching is HOT. Dave making in character remarks is also very hot. Yeah, no wonder Aaron loves him. Me too, Aaron. Me too. And honestly, these two being best friends for years makes all the sense in the world. They fit like a jigsaw puzzle.

FAMILY. They got me at Aaron and Dave sitting together and out of everyone continuing working on a case. But then they showed Spencer sleeping there, in that quiet corner in the dim light, next to Aaron—next to his dads—and I completely lost it (first in the car, then this). Everything is perfect about this scene. Everything. My love for them being a family in every way and for the Dads caring for them just got fed (and since it's been a while, i feel so happy I wanna cry). This is what they call a comfort show and character. This.

I think it's an average episode plot-wise, but damn it, if it didn't make me feel good things because of all the moments with Dave, Aaron, and Spencer.

P.S.: Penelope's "I live to serve you, sir" when Aaron hears something that he wants a clarification on and calls her. Yeah, the big scary Boss (that is actually still her friend. I like their dynamic.)