#they shall be adressed in the next part

[electrons2006]

Taken and Tortured Part 2

WARNING. THE FOLLOWING CONTAINS SCENES OF TORTURE THAT MAY BE DISTURBING VIWER DISCRETION ADVISED.

Few hours pass. The doctors have patched up whumpee's wounds. Whumpee's breath is heavy and they groan in pain. Whumper walks in "How are you doing. Let's continue where we stopped shall we?" they saw with a wicked smirk. "No God. Please no. I'm begging you. Please don't hurt me. I'll do anything you tell me to" Whumpee weeps as they say. "You're already crying? " whumper says with a laugh. "This is going to be fun. Prep them" they say to a guard and exit the room. Whumpee knows they have to escape somehow. Otherwise this lunatic whumper will torture them to death. The guard walks up to whumpee and start untying them for the. next procedure. This is their only chance. As soon as the guard finishes untying whumpee they kick him straight in the eye. Thr guard falls down and whumpee runs. Their entire body is burning and paining but they have to get out of here now. They open the door and continue running. Suddenly whumpee steps on somthing mettalic and there is a shooting pain in their leg. They yell out in pain. The scream is loud. It travels throught the entire property. Whumper hears this and smiles to themselves. Whumpee had stepped on a bear trap! It had cut through their flesh. They could feel it drilling their bone. They whimper in pain and try to open it in futile. It needs a key to be opened. Whumper walks out and ignoring whumpee's cries, says "since you tried to escape your punishment will be increased." Whumper opens the lock and whumpee is dragged by 2 guards leaving a trail of blood as they go.

The henchmen tie whumpee up to a contraption with their wrists and ankles stretched out. Whumper has an evil smirk on their face. Whumpee beggs to be released but it falls on deaf ears. Whumper gives the signal and 4 henchmen rotate 4 wheels which are attached to the pullies to which whumpee is tied up stretching their body past its limit. Their skin and muscle start to tear and there are cracking sounds as their bones start to break. Their screams are louder than ever. Whumpee's left shoulder is visibly at a different location than their right. The wound in their leg has stretched open wide to the point where their bones are visible. Whumper signal the henchmen to loosen the ropes a little and now that whumpee's skin becomes loose, the extent of the physical disformation becoming clearly visible. "please stop this. You can't do this to me." Whumpee cries. Whumper doesn't bother to say anything and brings back their whip. "Since you tried to escape I will whip you 50 times on your back and you will count. If you fail to do so your punishment will be increased. Also you will adress me as sir during this time" Whumpee is horrified by this. Before they can think of anything there is a sharp pain in their back ripping their skin open. "One... Sir" Whumpee says meekly. *whip*"two sir" this goes on for what feels like forever for whumpee. By the time they reach 50 whumpee's back is ripped to shreds pieces of skin and flesh falling off. There is blood everywhwre. "Had fun?" Whumpee says with a laugh. They look at whumpee's body. Front covered in bruises, back covered in blood and several bones out of place. They smile to themselves proud of what they have done. "The doc will be here to fix you up for more. Somthing special." Whumpee is in shock again. They can't take this anymore. They want to die at this point but whumper will not allow that. They have somthing special planned for whumpee.

[popculturebuffet]

Next up for Nickelodeon era of shows, who is your favorite character from each of the mid-late 2010s Nicktoons shows (where quality improved and got better again, despite only one from this set thriving in Nick's success) you've seen like: Harvey Beaks, Pig Goat Banana Cricket, The Loud House, Bunsen is a Beast, Welcome to the Wayne, The Adventures of Kid Danger, Rise of the TMNT, Pinky Malinky, and The Casagrandes?

Harvey Beaks; Piri Piri. She's adorable, tends to steal most scenes she's in and her shipping episode with Harvey was both an unexpected treat (I shipped them after the mouse book episode but I honestly didn't expect it to actually happen). The show itself is one of Nick's best, and like all but exactly one fucking show here, got treated like crap by the network. I"m heading that off now as wether I liked a show here or didn't, nick's already bad habit of screwing over shows has reached it's absolute worst since the 2010's. I only think it's slowed down slightly due to streaming (with big nate and rebootgrats getting the shovel to the head instead), and nicktoons not being nearly as viable a dumping ground due to the changing landscape of television.

Ranting aside yeah, Harvey Beaks is a masterpiece, a really sweet , kind slice of life show with a wonderful cast, great art design and a lot of heart. Out of CH Greenblat's three shows it's the best, and Jellystone and Chowder are no slouches but it's hard to make a show this wholesome, wonderful and itself. There will never be another show just like harvey beaks but maybe one day we'll see something close to this level of warmth. For now though at least the chaos present in it is alive and well in jellystone.. for now. I don't trust it's future beyond this run. Warner is even worse.

Pig Goat Banana Cricket: I liked Goat. I just think she's neat. Yeah this show is fine. It';s not as mediocre as some of the "trying to homage classic nicktoons shows" before it. It has a neat ren and stimpy style art direction and setup so there's effort I just feel the shows central premise, the characters getting split up to individual adventures, while neat on paper... hurt what I saw of the show. Since the characters only interact in drips, it prevents your cast from developing a lot of chemistry. It was a novel attempt it just didn't work for me.

The Loud House: Luna. This blog's proud history makes that clear as my bi adopted daughter was the centerpiece for my first pride month on the blog and I shall return to her other spotlights again at some point. The show itself.. is fine. Ther'es a lot to like: I love the comic strip style to it: as a fan of the medium in a time when adaptations are either rare or keep getting canceled (Phoebe in her unicorn ) or left in limbo (Bloom CountY) i'ts nice ot have something like that. The show is far from perfect: adressing the elephant in the room the creator is a sex pest and while much like ren and stimply I don't let that affect my enjoyment as he was thrown out on his ass and thankfully unlike John K caught way sooner. (If sadly not nearly soon enough) and the current showrunners being doing the show for longer than Savino was on board at this point. As for the show itself it's status quo nature can be frustrating as after a while the show kinda gave up on doing story arcs or romance arcs for better or worse. Luna's relatoinship with sam is great.. but you COULD do more with it now their together, and instead she just kinda got rolled into the moon goats. That said the show's still charming I like it a lot and I request the creepier parts of the fanbase stay 50 feet away at all times. The show gets a lot of backlash for it's popularity, epsecially over some of these other shows.. but like say teen titans go (Which I have less respect for honestly), it's .. not it's fault. It's a solid show with some good laughs, not as good as it COULD be, but still better than it has any right to be seven seasons in and going. Will we get a magical dog who talks awkwardly? Possibly. But while the show somehow won the "not getting cacneld lottery" it's at least hung in their gracefully. Though I do think it should end at some point.. and also the live action version does not intrest me. If you wanted to do lincoln romance plot lines do them in the fucking animated show. and yes that's a sore spot with me.

Bunsen is a Beast: Hadn't seen this one, don't intend to. All the impression I get for this one is it's the most hated of the butch hartman quartet and the last thing he made before he burnt up allllllll his good will by being a raving jackass.

Welcome to the Wayne: Sarline was both entertaining and had a nice character arc. I wish i'd seen more of this show an di'td got a proper conclusion. That being said while I do think it's neat, I also think while not hte gravity falls ripoff it got shit for, Sarline and Ollie aren't exactly the same as captaion anxious and mablepalooza, I do feel the creators were trying to follow in it's footsteps, and did an okay job, the worldbuilding just felt like it was trying a bit harder than the effortless way gravity falls did it and the golden trio all taking after it in some way.

Ultimately I think Time is what's kinda hurt this show a bit: soon after it we got said golden trio of ducktales, amphibia and owl house, while around the time of this show cartoon network had steven universe still going and ok ko. I also hear great things about Dead End: paranormal Park and STILL need to get around to tha tone (and reading more of deadendia). This show isn't bad.. but it kinda pales to the shows following that kids solving mysterys in a spooky setting genre gravity falls helped explode in popularity. It's not it's fault, and it's admitely my own bias: the golden trio are some of my faviorite cartoons period, and Ducktales might be my faviorite and is certainly my faviorite disney channel show at this point. It's not bad but it just dosen't wow me the way it did when it first aired.

The Adventures of Kid Danger; I never watched this one. I don't intend to any time soon. Also haven't seen pinky malkiny and don't intend to just to get ahead of it now.

Rise of the TMNT: One of the best nick shows of this era and one that's honestly gotten better in my eyes the more I think about it. While Welcome to teh Wayne aged ehhly, Rise of the TMNT has only gotten better to me it's rough edges sanded over by it's talent, being one fo the few action shows of it's era and being one of the mos tunique versions of tmnt ever

My faviorite.. is Raph though it is very hard as I love all the boys this verison, I just love him as the cuddly big brother though Donnie as a mad scientst is a close second, leo is a close third as ben schwartz is a god and mikey is dead last but still adorable.

Rise excels by deciding to try something diffrent a move kinda needed since the previous two cartoons ahd done the most obvious directoins to go in with a reboot: the 2003 cartoon (still possibly my faviorite of the four, now five though at the time of this review I haven't watched tales yet), was a truer to the text version of the mirage comics after the goofy and fun 80s cartoon, and 2012 split the diffrence, having neat character arcs and some really dark turns, but also having a lot of the uhinged madness of the 80s cartoon and rebooting a lot of it's unique ideas for a modern audience.

So rise instead was it's own weird little bean, deciding to throw out the script as far as tmnt went with all four brothers having their personalities changed completely: They still kept parts of their cores with it: Raph's still a brusier, donnie still duz machines, mikey's still the joyful goofy one and Leo is still the most skilled.. but they shake it up a bit to great effect; Instead of a rageful hot head or a sarcastic asshole, Raph is a kinder frinedler big brother who actually gets to lead even if he's really bad at it. Donnie is a mad scientest and has no moral compass to speak of beyond a love for his brothers and an ego the size of the sewer, and Leo is radically cahnged to be a sarcastic goof off whose scared of his actual potetial. Mikey.. is jsut nice and kind which he's been before but works for me especially after the more manic cloud cuckoolander of 2012. April likewise kept her role as voice of reason (and her teenage status, which now seems to be the default going forward and i'm fine with that), but got a lerooy jenkins strength, a string of jobs that would make jonesey jealous and a desire to have one friend who isn't related to the werid whirlwidn that is her life. She fails at that but she got a goop monster for a girlfriend so that kinda compesnates.

The show took tons of other big swings, with most of the familiar rogues absent for most of the show (With only shredder having a major roll and only Baxter being a recurring threat out of the returning enemies) , magic being the focus instead of a side dish or something they just had to put up with, unique weapons, Casey being a girl and their enemy at first, and an emphasis on comedy that seemed like it might sink the show.. but instead worked in it's favor as it's humor generally worked and made the action and character moments hit harder. Rise is a show that had me a tad nervous to start.. but won me over easily with the first episode and kept me on board on and off for it's run. It's got gorgeous action, great humor ("STOP EATING POISON"), one of the best splinters in the franchise, JOHNNN CENNNAAAA, and a satisfying ending.. and then another satisfying ending with the movie, which still holds the crown as second best tmnt movie and only lost said crown because mutant mayhem happened. And while MM goes back to the more traditional personaliteis for the core 4 a bit (with leo being the exception being extra super awkward if still the responsible one, even beyond the 2012 cartoon), it keeps the "let's see what we can do with this" mindset and feels like a worthy successor to this universe. i may miss rise, but it stil lstands out as one of the most unique and fun entires in the canon.

The Casagrandes: Bobby. Loved him at first sight on the loud house. Granted it helps Carlos was awesome on Big Time Rush (Which despite having mostly noped out of live action nick at that point, I watched any time I caught it. IT's a big stupid cartoon and a nicktoon in all but being live action. ), but Bobby is nature's second most perfect himbo behind hank venture, a kind thoughtful young man who despite being dumbber than a sack of hammers, is still far more resourceful than he seems, a good son, a great big brother (both to his sister and to his Primos) , and the best man. Give me a bobbi and lori spinoff now. The show itself was great and during a mild slump honestly suprassed the original show. I'm sad it's gone and wish it'd gotten to stay longer. It's got a great cast, tons of diverstiy and while similar to loud house, has more than enough to set it apart and avoid being their clevland show: the urban setting, diverse cast and gay as hell main friendship (YOu can't convince me ronnie anne and sam are straight. Bi yes becauase they are but straight no), and lots of fun. I honestly need to watch more. Good stuff.

[a-mysterious-man]

Saturday.

More specifically, Saturday, 3:46 PM.

Things were quiet. Just the way I liked the end of my days.

I needed something to relax with. Something to sip and someone to ramble to.

I knew just the place.

I throw my hoodie's hood on and speedwalk to my personal favorite coffee shop.

'Fairy Fortress,' the sign said, with a little slogan under it. 'Drinks so good they're magical.' It was cheesy but fitting. Especially knowing who ran the place.

I peak inside through the glass doors, and, yep, that's her.

Immediately, I start racking my brain for persona ideas. Every time I come here, I'm a new person. Sometimes I'm a wandering trader looking to unload some stock (trading cards) for a quick buck. Other times I'm a scientist who needs a sample of pure caffeine (black coffee) for an experiment. Today, I decide to fold to the magical nature of this 'Fort' and take on the role of a great knight. Clearing my throat and preparing for the damage to my vocal cords, I don a deep voice and charge through the door extravagantly, much to my target's dismay.

"Potion seller!" I yell, bringing attention to me, "I require a concoction to give me strength!"

I can practically see the groan she's holding back.

"I'm busy with another customer, sir. Give me a second."

"Ah, but of course! Patience is a key skill of any trained warrior. Simply call me when you are ready."

I find a spot to sit next to some rando I've never met and begin to tell "War stories," which are really just things I make up on the spot. I do this until I hear my target's voice again.

"Hey. Mister trained warrior. I'm ready to take your order."

"Ah! Wonderful!" I say before standing standing up and adressing the person I just rambled on to, "Well met, civilian, but I have matters to attned to."

That rando just stares at me, a confused look on their face as I walk up to the counter.

"...What do you want." She asks, shrinking from the amount of attention she's getting just from being near me.

"I would like your finest potion to give me strength on the battlefield!" I yell valiantly, repeating what I said earlier when I barged in here.

"...Okay. But what do you actually want." She repeats, rather obvious holding back the urdge to toss a mug at me.

"...Your finest potion." I repeat again, a soft frown cursing my lips, "I don't understand where the confusion lies."

She sighs and then begins brewing... gods know what. There's a thirty percent chance she's about to try and poison me.

With the mood sort of shot and my energy lost, I decide to take a seat on a nearby stool while I wait.

It isn't long until I hear my target pipe up again, though.

"So... you said you were going to battle, right?"

"...Indeed I did." I answer, confused. She's never shown interest in my personas' stories.

"Mind telling me why?"

My eyes probably lit up like a Christmas tree. Or whatever the fae equivalent is. I make up a story on the spot, putting my improv skills to the test as I explain how my kingdom's riches were stolen from by a tricky gang of mystical forest-dwellers.

"Sounds familiar." She quips, absolutely getting my hints.

"And the weirdest part is, our people are disappearing too. It's not just our gold. And we have no idea where they've gone."

I could see it in her eyes. She was entertained, or at the very least, amused. She sets the 'potion' down on the counter before folding her fingers and pursing her lips.

"Hmm... well, I can't say that's been happening here. Everything seems to be running alright, save for a few of my regulars seeming far less energiezd than normal."

"Hmm. Well, thank you for the potion and for the chance to unload, shopkeep. I shall be going now."

She shrugs as I pick up the to-go-cup of coffee, rubbing a rag over a porcelain mug.

"Hey, wait!" I hear her call, to which I turn around, "I never got your name, warrior."

"...Heh. No, I suppose you didn't." I return, genuinely considering handing it over, although deciding against it, instead yelling out a fake persona name, "I am Grognath the Stone Skinned!"

"Well, Grognath," She continues, a hint of disappointment visible in her eyes, "I do hope we meet again."

"Perhaps we will, potion seller..." I give a smirk as if to say 'better luck next time,' before giving a small salute, "Perhaps we will. Good day to you!"

...

I tilt the coffee in my hand as I walk down an alleyway. It's fae food that makes you as owned, not fae drink, right?

I decide to take a chance, popping the little opening and sipping at the drink.

"By the gods." I mutter. Man, this is good.

I take a few more steps before suddenly being overcome by a feeling of... freedom.

I think I was wrong about the drink vs food thing.

But if I was, then I guess she really does care.

Maybe it's because I knocked her out of boredom.

Or maybe, just maybe...

...it's because I made her day that much better.

I hope she knows she made my day better, too.

You know that the cute clerk at your local coffee shop is actually a fae, a fae that is very mad that you constantly give them a fake name, made worse by the fact that you embarrass them with those jokes on a daily basis.

[ahornedgod]

got drabble - (it’s us) against the world ii

@softvoicesdie said: Hi could you please do "let me help you"?

here you go, and sorry hun, but i can’t seem to be able to tag you :/

a/n: the thrilling sequel to this. lol. no but srsly, this is the second of god knows how many parts. canon compliant! when it suits me. also follows logic when it suits me :D spoilers up until ep6.

still taking prompts :)

in which meetings are had, amends are made; the King in the North names his Heir and the Starks bond.

part i

ii.

An unfamiliar, high-pitched giggle wakes him.

And the feel of a snout nudging his face, before slobbering all over him, makes him open his eyes – to glare half-heartedly at Ghost. Then, he takes notice of a few extra things; there are furs covering his resting form where there had been none last he remembers, he’s also laying down – and he’s alone.

“He is so very sweet, m'lady.”

“He is. A rare occurrence nowadays.”

Jon frowns slightly, propping himself up on his elbows, looks over his shoulder to the doorway to Sansa’s bedchambers. He wonders who the man in question is, who is so very sweet that even Sansa has to agree.

Ghost, clearly tiring of being ignored, leaps onto him, or tries to as his massive body doesn’t fit on the settee, forcing Jon to lay flat against the cushions again. Despite his grunt of pain—his wounds have yet to heal completely—he smiles as Ghost shuffles a little and starts butting heads with him.

Because that’s his thing – their thing. Ever since he was a pup, Ghost would climb onto his chest and bump their heads together to demand attention.

“I missed you, boy,” he grins. “I hear you took good care of Sansa, I’m proud.”

Ghost huffs and licks his face enthusiastically.

While the prospect of staying in Sansa’s solar for the rest of the day—for as long as he possibly can—Jon knows there’s a lot to do now. Especially now. Sansa must have informed their bannermen of his arrival, if they hadn’t been there to see him being dragged into Winterfell, injured and barely conscious; surely they would want to see him.

And demand answers from me, he thinks. Answers I own them, after all these months. Arya had been quick to tell him of the Lords’ discomfort with his prolonged absence. He understands, of course, they hadn’t been happy with his initial decision to begin with.

“Is he courting anyone, m'lady?”

“I do not know, Milly.”

“Would you ask your Lady Knight for me?”

That catches his attention rather quick; Jon sits up, ignoring Ghost’s soft whine as his paws slides down to his lap, and twists around in time to see Sansa and her handmaid step back into the solar.

Sansa smiles upon seeing him, sending his heart clattering against his ribs at an alarming rate, not so her handmaid. Milly looks completely shocked by his presence in her Lady’s chambers, he can tell, but still recovers quickly enough. However not quickly enough to miss the curious look she sends Sansa.

She performs a clumsy curtsy, and bows her head. “Your Grace.”

“Could you call for a warm bath to be prepared for His Grace, Milly?”

The girl, no older than five-and-ten, smiles brightly at Sansa. “Yes, m'lady, right away.”

Jon waits until they are alone talk, until the wooden doors are firmly shut. “Is it safe to assume that it is well past morning?”

“Very,” she says, her smile diming a little; Sansa moves to her desk, motioning for him to follow – gladly, he thinks, he would follow her gladly anywhere. “Let’s eat now; we’ve a long and tedious day ahead.”

He sigh, willing the frustration away and sits himself next to her. “Endless council meetings?”

“And endless damage control to do as well. The Northern Lords are not… happy,” she pauses, to gauge his reaction certainly. “They are more at ease now that you’re here, but—”

Her sentence halts once she’s realized the last word to part from her lips; he grins and Sansa gives him a rueful smile in return. Somehow, after his little history lesson on what their—father did or said away from his daughter’s ears, it’s become a recurring thing between them leading up the weeks before his departure to Dragonstone.

The word slips; they stop and they grin, and then proceed.

“Jon,” her smile disappears. “The Northern Lords also… they offered to make me Queen. In fact that incident was what propelled the… argument with Arya.”

Sansa starts eating then, intent on avoiding his gaze and any kind of talking by taking slightly bigger bites of food than she would usually do. Jon follows her example, for a while, though he takes the time to savour the food. Months – it’s been months of trying to navigate the intricacies of Southron politics and mining the dragonglass, months of eating food that’d been either too much or not enough.

There’s no venison like the one cooked in the North, he thinks.

Jon lets a few more minutes pass in silence before grabbing her hand. She freezes, giving him a startled look before relaxing.

He speaks only when they’re both focused on each other. “Are you still angry with me?”

“Oh?”

“About the wight hunt.”

She frowns, straightens her back and—ah, yes, she’s still angry—her expression becomes frosty. “Try furious.”

He cringes.

Though it does not last, Sansa sighs and her demeanour softens again. “Jon,” she begins. “What… Why would you do something like that? What madness possessed you to go beyond The Wall, to catch one of those things?”

How to explain it? Jon does not know. How to explain that from the very moment they were asked to hand over their weapons he’d realized he would not leave that place without giving into demands that might cost him everything he’s been fighting for? How to explain that after a first disastrous meeting, he became a prisoner in all but name? That he was given leave to mine and send the dragonglass North only because Daenerys Targaryen thought it to be useless to her?

(And Jon wonders if shipments will keep coming, now that he’s here, in Winterfell.)

Oh, he is absolutely certain Sansa had garnered quite a bit out of his scarce letters. She’d made no allusions to it in her replies, though.

Because she knew, he thinks, she knew there was a very high possibility of their letters being intercepted. She told me that, and she was right.

How can he explain he leaped at the possibility to get solid proof of the real danger not only to finally convince the Southron Queens, but because it provided him with means to leave Dragonstone?

Sansa – she had been just as doubtful of his claims as the Queens in the South the first time he spoke of them. She had looked at him that night after the Northern Lords placed a crown on his head, sitting in this solar, as he told her of what he had seen, of what he had been trying to escape from - what he had hoped to keep her away from. She had listened and she had considered his words, and Jon had known, she had not believed him then, but she had nodded and said:

“I trust you.”

It’s obvious she believes him now; obvious she’s believed him for a while, considering the brilliant job she has done in his absence.

So, yes, it is hard to explain what madness came over him to agree to such foolishness, to offer his assistance actually; but he had agreed and sheer luck—no, not sheer luck. Perhaps, luck played a part, to have had so few casualties, but it’s Sansa the one who had saved him, and the group of men he literally lead to their deaths, once again.

The shift of her hand as it turns and twines their fingers together snaps him back to reality. Jon locks his gaze on hers; dares not to look at their hands and call attention to them, for he knows not if Sansa is even aware of what she’s done.

She cannot be, he reasons. She cannot mean anything beyond—she doesn’t know, Bran said…

He wonders, then, what to do. He wonders how much longer he will be able to avoid taking that one step that will send him tumbling down the proverbial hill. How much longer he can resist stepping over the line that’s become a blurry mess at their feet. Only for him; Sansa, she looks at him and she sees a brother – she know not about lines separating them because for her there’s no need for those lines.

Her affections have not strayed to—the forbidden.

(But is it forbidden, now?)

I am her brother, and only her brother.

He’s fought so hard to maintain the fragile balance he’d achieved—between keeping a respectful distance and still give her the brotherly affection she needed—after acknowledging the true nature of his own feelings. So very hard. Those last weeks leading up to his departure for Dragonstone had been the hardest to his frayed nerves.

Where Jon had found himself parroting one word repeatedly at any chance given: sister.

Always sister. At one point, it became almost a mantra, until he found himself answering back one evening, as he sat alone in front of the fire in his own chambers: one more time and I’ll believe you.

He’d stopped repeating it to himself in silence, but did not stop calling her that out loud – he had needed the reminder.

“You are my sister, but…”

The journey to Dragonstone became imperative in more than one way, then.

He had thought, distance would do; it would suffice, it would help him clear his head. People always say that absence makes the heart grow fonder; his heart needed not grow fonder—Jon doesn’t think it can possibly grow any fonder—he only needed to get it back onto the right path of fondness, the right kind.

A folly on his part – distance has made everything worse (there is Littlefinger and how much he’d wanted to squeeze the life out of him; Tyrion and how he failed to reign in his sharp reply; Theon—Theon whose live he’d forgiven because Sansa had asked it of him).

The raven announcing Bran’s and Arya’s return to Winterfell had been his undoing, because the overwhelming relief that blanketed him only served to make the contrast between his affection for his siblings all the more sharp.

And now, he thinks, now he is back in Winterfell. Now he knows, and the sickening feeling that had long settled in his gut lessened a little more with each passing second. He knows and he’s given himself just enough time to enjoy the thought, the what if, before he wrapped up this new revelation. He can’t focus on it now, still doesn’t quite know how to react to it; there are more pressing matters to attend, so he won’t react just yet.

Jon gives her hand a firm squeeze before retreating and resting his elbows on the table.

(He is just her brother.)

“It was a chance to leave Dragonstone, Sansa,” he says at last, her name almost a prayer on his lips. “And I took it.”

“But whose idea was it to go on this… expedition?”

“Tyrion’s. Said it was the only way to convince Cersei.”

Sansa holds a breath for a few seconds before letting it go slowly, and pins him with a look that makes him feel incredibly dim-witted. “Did Cersei agree to meet you all at Eastwatch? Is that how you were going to show her?”

“Er… No,” he pauses, resisting the urge to squirm in his seat like a nervous child; suddenly, the hastily formed plan sounds very idiotic. “There was supposed to be a gathering in King’s Landing, the Dragon Pit.”

“Does Tyrion honestly expect Cersei to do nothing dangerous once she has you all in one place? Do you?”

“The thought did occur to me, but—”

“Jon.”

“I’m sorry!”

She pinches the bridge of her nose and, Jon swears, no one should be allowed to look so—Sansa huffs, most unlady-like, and shoots him an exasperated glance. “Let’s finish our food,” she says, “we have a meeting with our bannermen soon.”

But he doesn’t start eating again right away. “Sansa?”

“Yes?”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” he says, smiling and willing her to see his sincerity. “You should have accepted their offer to become their Queen… our Queen. You already make a much better ruler than I. Perhaps I should abdicate today and—”

“No, Jon—no,” she doesn’t let him talk at all after; grabs his hands tightly in her own. “No. I’ve told you, haven’t I? Jon, you are good at ruling. You are a good King. You are.”

“No ‘but’ this time?” he asks, a reference to the last time they broached this subject.

Her smile comes gently. “No ‘but’ this time.”

(Even if she’s stopped being just his sister a long while ago.)

*

The meeting with their bannermen is both enlightening and as tedious as he’d thought it would be. It goes smoothly, for the most part, because he has the foresight to talk things over with Sansa before convening the Northern Lords.

“We can’t afford clashing in front of them now,” he’d said to her, “better to resolve our differences in private and present a united front to our people.”

Something he should’ve done long before now. Aye, her pleased smile might’ve been more than he could have handled back then as well as the sweetest reward.

His journey to Dragonstone is addressed; he listens to their complaints and gives them the assurances they want to hear. Jon gives them more than that.

He even acknowledges their desire to crown Sansa as Queen in the North; though he takes notice of some disgruntled expressions—most likely at his addressing what they might now consider an act of treason—Jon doesn’t let that stop him nor does he call out those who had spoken against him in his absence.

“I rode South, my Lords, despite your warnings and misgivings,” he says, “despite Lady Sansa’s insistence of a possible trap; despite everyone’s better judgement. It was a mistake and for that I apologize.”

He stands behind the head table; next to him, Sansa smiles encouragingly at him – in front of them, the Northern Lords and Ladies murmur their agreement.

Lyanna Mormont stands; the girl who, according to Sansa’s assessment, jokingly or not, is his staunchest supporter, and sometimes the most levelheaded of the lot. He nods his head at her.

“Your Grace, we are aware of the circumstances that forced your hand and made you decide to head for Dragonstone,” she begins, pauses long enough for the others to agree with her chosen words. “As it stands, and considering what is marching towards us, I would say it was a necessary mistake. As it, at least, provided us with this dragonglass you’ve said will help us on this upcoming war.”

“Aye,” says Lord Glover; he’d come to him to apologize personally before the meeting, as had Lord Royce, and Jon had accepted their words. “Aye, but we cannot afford to let those kinds of mistakes endanger your life again, Your Grace. We need our King to lead us now, more than ever.”

It had been a genius move on Sansa’s part, to assemble the rescue part with knights and soldiers of all those Houses pledged to him—pledged to them.

Because now that they are back, all those who survived have not stopped talking about the horrors they’ve seen beyond The Wall. Those who survived and were ordered to bring back their King to Winterfell post-haste, the rest of them were to travel at a more sedate pace; Ser Davos and the men he’d lead beyond The Wall being part of that group.

Now, there is not a soul within this very hall that doubted the legitimacy of Jon’s warnings. They know the real enemy to be further north.

Jon nods; here comes the hard part, announcing the one decision Sansa did not want to agree to. “It is because of this; because you all know I will not be staying behind the walls of Winterfell when the fight comes, that I have decided to name Lady Sansa as my Heir.”

The silence is deafening, as he expected; as he also expected, the explosion comes from Sansa herself instead of the Lords.

“Jon!”

And it is all he lets her say, turning to her quickly and giving her a meaningful look, one that manages to stall her protests.

“I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again,” he begins, “Sansa, you did a brilliant job ruling Winterfell and the North in my absence. You’ve kept our people focused on preparing for the upcoming winter, and the war with the White Walkers. You’ve given them purpose and you’ve given them hope and no one here can say you don’t deserve it.”

A pause, for emphasis.

“Should anything befall me, I want you to rule in my stead; be the Queen in the North.”

*

The one decision since being crowned as King in the North; the one all the Lords and Ladies have accepted.

And Sansa fights him over it.

“Let me help you,” she’d said, right before the hall began to fill with their bannermen. “Jon, let me help you. You need to focus on preparing for war, on preparing our men for the battles to come. Let me take care of the rest.”

She’d said she would take care of the little things; the household and the distribution of their supplies and the meetings with the smallfolk and the influx of refugees. That she’d make sure their people are properly clothed once the real cold begins to set in; and help him play the game. Those are not the little think, though; those are important things as well.

“I’ll let you help me,” he’d told her, after adjourning and before going their separates way, “handle the little things, so long as you don’t fight me on this. Sansa, I want you to be my Heir, and I’m not going to change my mind.”

“That is your decision, and your decision is final?”

“Yes.”

“Sansa knows you are right.”

Distracted as he is, Jon doesn’t realize he’s meandered into the Godswood until now. Bran’s voice makes him jump and spin on his heels, to find him sitting on what he has learned is his usual spot under the weirwood heart tree.

“Bran.”

His brother gives him as much of a smile as he can muster now, before tilting his head back. “She will come around, do not fret.”

Jon frowns, sitting next to him on one of the roots of the heart tree. “Is that… something you’ve seen?”

“No,” says Bran. “But I know Sansa; I know all of you, more than you can imagine.”

“She’s fighting this out of sheer stubbornness, isn’t she?”

“She is.”

Years ago, they might have laughed a little at that. Years ago, Bran would’ve grinned at him before trying to climb one of the trees surrounding them. Years ago… Jon doesn’t think he has stopped wishing for those times since reuniting with Sansa at Castle Black.

“Did Maester Wolkman give you the letter?”

His jaw clenches; Jon will never be comfortable knowing that Winterfell’s new Maester used to be part of the Dreadfort—the Bolton’s household. He tolerates it now because they need a Maester and because, at the very end of the day, the old man is not bad. However, Jon would rather be rid of him.

“Aye, I got the letter.”

Which is why this letter is a Gods’ sent.

Sam is riding North, apparently a Maester now, for that’s the sole reason Jon had let him go to Oldtown in the first place. His dearest friend is riding for Winterfell, set to arrive in a week’s time, to help him find a way to defeat the Night King.

Jon thinks he much prefers the idea of seeing Sam walking with Sansa around the Great Keep, if only for his peace of mind.

“Samwell Tarly…” the name hangs between them for a moment, before Bran looks at him again, eerily calm. “He knows not what happened to his father and brother.”

He takes a deep breath, forces himself to relax. Jon still has a hard time believing what he’s been told; but neither Sansa nor the bannermen had any reasons to lie. Now he questions all his interactions with Daenerys Targaryen; questions Tyrion’s insistence of her many accomplishments done for the good of people. Yes, he does believe she has a good heart, perhaps even has the best intentions in this campaign of hers.

But all of that means nothing if she goes about instilling fear in people via her dragons; it sure as all seven hells means nothing if she’s started burning noblemen for refusing to bend the knee. Missandei might say what she pleases; about having the choice to leave if she so desired it, because that is her and those that came with her Queen from Essos. Westerosi people seem to be held to another standard.

A standard that has them choosing between a life kneeling for a ruler they do not want, he thinks, or death. Gods, but I got lucky.

He wonders what would’ve happened if he had stayed longer, if he had refused more strongly to bend the knee. He wonders what would have been the last straw, and then he wonders no more.

We need to focus on the Night King now.

Still, knowing the woman everyone claims to be trustworthy and good lied to his face is not something easy to swallow. Makes him even more wary of her and her supposed good intentions and declarations of birthrights.

“Bran.”

“Yes.”

“You said… you said you could see everything that has happened, everything that is happening…” he pauses, looks at his brother – Jon tries not to look for a glimpse of Bran. “Can you see what… will happen?”

Bran blinks, tilts his head back again, and closes his eyes. “What has yet to happen… the future is not set on stone, Jon.”

The silence falls around them and Jon sighs; he lets his brother do his thing and takes the opportunity to think on the plans that need to be made in order to survive the coming storm.

Not much had been accomplished after his naming of his Heir. The Northern Lords and Ladies had brought up the—old—news from the Reach: the fate of the Tarlys, the soldiers, and the supplies. There had been a brief argument about what to do in the event of having the Dragon Queen turn her dragons on them—fight, they had said. They would fight, never again would the North kneel for another Southron ruler, not even at the threat of dragonfire.

Sansa had noted his stress then, had appealed to the good conscience of their bannermen to please excuse their King, for he had yet to fully recover from his injuries.

Jon does not wish to wage war against three dragons. He worries not about the Unsullied and the Dothraki; this far up North, they would not fare well in the cold. It’s the dragons that worried him; for how can he protect them—protect his family, Sansa, against three fire-breathing beasts.

It is the one thought that kept haunting him in Dragonstone, haunts him still. It seems not even the tranquillity of the Godswood can keep his worries at bay for long.

Arya chooses that moment to storm into the peace and quiet. A bundle of barely suppressed rage and energy, stalking over them as if ready to pounce and maim and hurt. She stops before them, hands clenched at her side, and glares. She glares and pants and he can see, it’s taking all her self-control not to snap and – it’s the flicker of heartbreak that throws him off.

For a second she looks so frighteningly similar to Lady Catelyn—the one time Jon had seen her so feral and broken, after Bran’s fall—Jon doesn’t know how to react, doesn’t know what prompted this reaction from his little sister.

“I didn’t know,” comes the strangled whisper.

Jon breathes in sharply; suddenly, and he understands. He stands up, goes to hugs her, but Arya steps back.

“Gods, Jon, I didn’t know,” she looks so distraught.

“But you do now.”

Bran’s voice, flat and unwavering, breaks through her despair. Though it ignites her rage once again and Jon goes to grab her shoulders just in case she reacts badly to that. Arya, his little sister, the one who’d been bright and wild and defiant but oh so happy – he knows that Arya would never deliberately hurt her siblings. But this Arya, dark and sarcastic and with an insatiable thirst for revenge, is such a big unknown that he needs to take precautions even though it pains him.

In a way, while he knows expecting his little siblings—cousins—to remain unchanged is unrealistic; yet Jon had not expected them to be so… different. Not the little ones; not Arya and Bran. Not this much.

He aches for those old times once again.

Time, I need to give it time. When Sansa came to Castle Black, we didn’t fall into our new relationship right away; it took time, it took months. This will be the same.

But he doesn’t have months now. He doesn’t actually know how much time he has.

“I thought you two would speak about it,” says Bran, “after Sansa found you on the crypts.”

“Yes, but…”

Arya closes her eyes shut, biting her lips, she tries to control her rage and her grief. It shocks him how he failed to notice it when she stormed here; because he’s been there, he’s felt that rage, that grief. Only, while Arya seems to have gotten the whole story in one go, Sansa had revealed it to him in bits and pieces along the months they’d spent traveling the North rallying their bannermen.

He has been right there, where his little sister is, so he know what really bothers her.

“They’re all dead,” he says, and knows Arya understands him. “Every single person that’s hurt her, that’s hurt our family, is dead.”

“Not all of them.”

There’s still the Queen who sits on the Iron Throne.

“Aye, not all of them.”

“But soon,” she says, takes a deep breath and tries to relax.

It will be a long time before she can manage that, he knows, but it’s a start. Jon wishes Arya would let go of her list, wishes he could hug her to his chest and promise to make it all better. Wishes he could ruffle Bran’s hair and see his brother smile. Mostly he wishes he could make all the horrors Sansa had suffered disappear.

Wishes have never done any good to their family.

“If you are quite done talking about me.”

Jon freezes on the spot at the sound of her voice, so does Arya; Bran turns his head to look at her as if expecting her. He and Arya follow his lead, turning to face Sansa as well. And really, they must look comical if she manages to roll her eyes in a most un-ladylike manner as she approaches.

It works, though, as Arya huffs and plops herself down next to Bran. Jon—he shifts where he stands until Sansa is within reach, and offers her his hand. Sansa smiles at him, and takes it; he leads her to the root branch he had previously occupied so she can sit.

“A raven has just arrived from Dragonstone,” says Sansa, handing him a scroll.

It’s sealed still, as it should be, though he wishes it weren’t. Hearing the contents of the letter might sound less dire if they came from her, he thinks. Good thing he’s decided to remain standing, he won’t be able to sit still after this, he’s sure.

“Well?” Arya says, motioning to the scroll. “Go ahead and open it.”

So he does, he reads it, and sighs. “Daenerys Targaryen is summoning me back to Dragonstone,” he states, resisting the urge to be snarky about the long list of titles that came before the thinly veiled command. “At my earliest convenience.”

Arya takes the scroll from him, looks it over and snorts. “Daenerys Targaryen can go hang.”

Shocking, it is, to see Sansa smirk at Arya’s words. “I have to agree with Arya,” she says. “Jon, you are not going back there.”

“You don’t have you tell me, but…”

“You don’t think she will give you a choice.”

“She isn’t giving him a choice,” says Arya, passing the scroll to Sansa, and then she smirks at him. “We won’t let her take you, Jon, don’t worry.”

Jon snorts. “It’s not like she will ride her dragons up here to kidnap me.”

“She might ride her dragons up here to declare war against us,” says Sansa, scanning the letter attentively.

“That is a possibility,” Bran’s words send chills down his spine. “The Northern Lords and Ladies are not going to change their minds, are they?”

“No, not even knowing the consequences,” Jon sighs, rubbing his face in exasperation. “I don’t think they realize what they’re saying.

“The Vale won’t kneel either,” Sansa looks at him, sombre. “Lord Royce is the new Lord Protector of the Vale, until Robin comes off age. He was clear when he said the Vale would not kneel for the Mad King’s daughter.”

“Perhaps they will change their mind once they see the dragons, but… Westeros hasn’t known a long period of peace since Aegon the Conqueror decided to take over the Seven Kingdoms. The most we’ve known of peace since being under Targaryen rule is a couple of decades, at most.”

“I can’t risk a war against three dragons, Arya,” Jon says, suddenly feeling exhausted. “I’ve seen them, I’ve seen their Mother; self-control is not a word you would associate with them.”

“But, Jon…”

“There’s no point in arguing among us about something that might never come to pass,” Sansa’s voice carries enough command to make them stop, but not enough to make them defensive and Jon smirks at her; she rolls her eyes. “First we must exhaust every other possibility to convince the Dragon Queen to aid us in the war against the White Walkers.”

“She will tell you what she told me; she’ll help when we bend the knee. I tried to convince her, Sansa, it did not work.”

“You’re not exactly well-versed in treating with Southron Queens,” she says, the hints of a smile tugging at her lips. “Let me handle her.”

“You plan on inviting her to come here,” says Bran, startling them all; it is so easy to forget he’s there now, considering how silent and still he is. “That might be for the best.”

“Let her come and see that marching her armies North will do her no good,” says Arya. “The nights are getting longer and the days colder; it’s only a matter of time, not even her dragons will withstand the cold then.”

Bran looks at them, all of them, and for a moment, his expression softens and then, Jon can almost swear he sees a glimpse of his brother. “Aye,” he says, softly. “The winters are hard, but the Starks will endure…”

“We always have,” Jon finishes in a whisper.

“Jon,” blue eyes pierce him with a look; all-knowing, all-seeing, “have you told them yet?”

The tilt of his head gives away whom he’s referring to; the girls look at Bran, curious, then turn to him.

“Told us what?” they say, surprisingly coordinated.

He has to turn away; Jon doesn’t want them to see his conflict. Last night, after Bran had revealed the truth about his parentage, ad been easy enough for him to push it aside in lieu of focusing on Sansa; this morning, now, he’s decided to deal with it once all pressing matter were settled. Though it seems, that no longer is an option.

“I haven’t…”

“What do you need to tell us?” Arya asks.

Jon swallows, turns around to face them, Arya looks worried, and so does Sansa, though the Lady of Winterfell manages to school her expression after a while. He wonders if she’ll manage after he’s told them; worries about their reaction.

“I remember what it felt like being Brandon Stark,” he had said, before he had grabbed his arm and looked so painfully like his little brother Bran. “This changes nothing, Jon, you’re still my brother.”

Will the girls be the same? Arya, most likely. His little sister would reassure him, he has no doubt. And Sansa – would she look him in the eye and call him brother as well? Would she call him cousin instead?

Do I want her to call me brother?

Jon sighs. “Not now, I…” he rubs his face. “I just need time to… understand.”

Time to find a way to understand without falling apart. The very foundation of his life, ripped from beneath his feet. The very thing that’s always made him proud, a lie. His whole damn life. He can’t process the hurt right now, can’t think about it without wanting to break—to scream and cry.

And amidst all, the thrumming of a glorious possibility—he loathes himself a little for even considering it glorious.

Sansa stands and closes the distance between them; takes his hand and smiles. “Take all the time you need.”

No, no I do not.

* *

part i-a (nsfw)

[tokoyamisstuff]

Gabriel Reyes:

Even back as the commander of Blackwatch, Reyes was already intimidating to begin with, no matter if his s/o is a soldier or a mere civilian.

Dude is built like a brick shithouse and probably way taller than most, so obviously his comrades know better than to provoke his anger.

Since he's such a strict, easily irritated person at work, one would assume that being in a relationship with him would be just the same - yet the thought of manhandling you in any way never even crossed his mind.

So on the rare occasion of you having an argument he only ever lashes out at you verbally, if anything.

One time though he overstepped a line, screaming at you while dramatically throwing his hands in the air - to which you responded naturally by ducking down.

You can clearly see the guilt in his eyes when he steps back, and he'll probably rush out of the room before you can even explain your reaction.

Reyes isn't really the type to talk things over, let alone abut how he feels. He'll probably deal with those emotions his own way - alone - and only come back to you after he's calmed down.

Returns after a few hours with a thoughtful gift or something similar, like dropping your favourite sweets into your lap or saying that he's done all of your workload for the day. It's his way of apologizing.

He may act like nothing happened and never adress the topic again, but his behavior will change nonetheless.

Gabe sees himself as your protector, and the sheer thought of making you scared in any way is really eating on him. So afterwards he'll be very held back and careful to touch you.

Needs a lot of reassurance that it's not that deep and you trust him unconditionally, but the thought will probably stuck with him.

After he's grown comfortable touching you again, he adapts a new habit of becoming physically affective with you whenever you're having a conflict. You could literally tell him to fuck off but he'll just cradle you against his chest until you both can't be mad at each other anymore.

In the end, this is only more reason for him to become better for your sake. Is willing to prove that he can be just the partner you need, no matter how - even if it means actually learning how to open up and properly resolve conflict.

Reaper:

Is an even worse drama queen than the old Gabe.

We all know that after his metamorphosis, it's even harder for him to contain his anger. It's quite literally part of his biology now, and his mental condition doesn't really make it any better.

Though Reaper is even more dangerous than his old self, even in this state he's just as far away from harming you as before.

While he had always been a rather inward person, he's now a lot more quiet as well. Doesn't even remotely raise his voice at you. After all, you're the only precious thing left in his life. So matter what you may direct at him, he'll endure it all stoic - at least on the outside.

Every single time you're fighting, he'll always just storm out the room and let off some steam on the next best poor soul encountering him.

Reaper's condition is really eating on him, and he sees himself as nothing else than a monster. Thus he can't make any sense out of the fact that you don't find him repulsing at all, and thinks it's just a matter of time until you face the reality of what he's become.

Constantly asks you if you're really fine with being with him and not just playing along because you're afraid of his reaction. Emphasizes that you have nothing to fear shall you ever want to leave him and how you don't owe him an explanation or anything.

You'll probably flinch at something that has nothing to do with you directly, like when he's having a particulary hard time with the pain - or seeing him brutally murder someone right in front of you.

Just when he takes human form again and rushes towards you to see if you're fine, you'll wince a little backwards - and even with the mask, that is the exact moment you can see his heart breaking.

The dam just breaks and he'll pull you into his arms without even thinking first, before he starts crying uncontrollably and uttering countless apologies.

Starting from then, he'll be very vocal about his emotions. Like how you're the most important thing in his life and he'd rather die than hurt you in any way.

It feels rather nice getting this off his chest, to be honest.

[arc-misadventures]

(Ask related to "friend" series but not exacly next part) How in your mind chemistry in the group will change? Does ren and nora trying to do combos with jaune? Is jaune even a leader anymore? He suppose to be gropu tactician, does he make plans anymore? What about team rwby? Jaune call them out for adressing him only when they need something, so how does it look in combat? Recharge aura, heal, boost etc. And with other people qrow, oscar, maria and others

Hmmm…

An interesting array of questions.

While this may sound like a copout, to which it somewhat is. But, I would rather not tell you any of this, but I will show you.

For the greatest failing of RWBY as a whole, is that it tells, but does not show.

Besides, my mind works better in this manner.

I shall start on the next prompt shortly, I just have to pick one.

[josefavomjaaga]

Paris, January 3, 1810

This is a letter by Madame Eleonore Metternich (nicknamed Lorel) to her husband Clemens, giving some insight into how negotiations about the Austrian-French marriage started. It’s translated from Metternich’s papers, Volume 2, the original is in French, and the spouses adress each other as “vous”.

The Metternichs were a rather odd couple. He a notorious skirt-chaser, falling in love (and passionately!) with every other pretty lady, and she a rather homely, small and unattractive woman, perfectly informed about her husband's many affairs, yet still staunchly supportive and full of admiration for hubby dearest. When during the wedding ceremonies at Compiègne the two of them happened to meet on the road one night, he coming from Vienna and she from Paris, there was the bonmot that "all these extra-ordinary circumstances had been necessary to make Monsieur and Madame Metternich meet at night for once." In truth, the two of them seem to have gotten along pretty well; they had seven children, Metternich entrusted his wife with many important tasks, and she dutifully closed her eyes over his exmarital escapades. The two of them seem to have led an "old-fashioned" marriage, which was much more about business than about romance.

Paris, January 3 , 1810

Today I have some very extraordinary things to tell you, and I almost believe that my letter will be an essential part of the expedition.

First of all I must tell you that I was presented to the Emperor last Sunday. I had only asked Champagny for it verbally, when I received a letter from M. de Ségur which told me that the Emperor had fixed it for Sunday, and that I had to choose a lady from the palace who would present me. I chose in my wisdom the Duchess of Bassano, and after waiting, together with a score of other women among whom were the Princess of Isenbourg, Madame de Tyszkiewitz and others, from two o'clock until half-past six in the evening, I was introduced first, and the Emperor received me in a way that I could not have believed. He showed real joy at seeing me again and at the fact that I had stayed here during the war; [...]

When war broke out in 1809, it seems the Austrian government kinda forgot about its ambassador in Paris and did not recall him in time. Metternich was first detained, then exchanged for a general as prisoner of war. As soon as peace had been concluded, he became Minister of Foreign Affairs in Austria and had since then remained in Vienna. Lorel, as to her, had contemplated following her husband to Austria several times. But she clearly was more useful in Paris, so she stayed and informed Metternich of what was going on in the French capital.

[...] he spoke to me about you and said: "M. de Metternich has the first place in the Monarchy; he knows this country well, he will be able to be useful to it." This sentence impresses me above all by what will follow.

The next morning Madame d'Audenarde came to me, and told me that the Empress [...]

The empress - that would be Josephine. Already chucked out of the Tuileries and with her marriage to Napoleon declared invalid. But obviously still very much in the midst of things.

[...] would like to see me very much; I went to Malmaison the next day, which was yesterday. When I arrived, there was only the Viceroy in the salon, who is the best of humans; he is the Queen of Holland as a man. 

No! No, he's not! You take that back! He may be in some ways similar to her but he really isn't quite as bad ... - (For the record, I am aware that Lorel meant this as a compliment.)

He spoke to me a great deal about you, and in the midst of our conversation came the Queen, who was very glad that we had so soon renewed our acquaintance; then, taking me aside, she said to me: "You know that we are all Austrians at heart; but you would never guess that my brother had the courage to advise the Emperor to ask for your Archduchess!" 

I bet Lorel never would have guessed. Neither would have Eugène, most likely. In truth, he was probably there on explicit orders from his stepfather to sound out Madame Metternich if her husband might be ready to hand over some archduchess to be married by a French emperor.

Napoleon: But be subtle! They must not take it for an actual request! You have to ask without actually asking the question, got it?

Eugène: [stares at Napoleon blankly]

Napoleon: You know what, let your mother and sister do the talking.

I had not yet recovered from my astonishment, when the Empress entered, and after telling me of all the events which had just happened, and of all that she had suffered, [...]

... and after Eugène and Hortense had interrupted her lengthy sermon on that topic and had reminded her that there was something else Josephine really, really wanted to talk to Madame Metternich about, ...

[...] she said to me: "I have a project which occupies me exclusively, and the success of which alone gives me hope that the sacrifice I have just made will not be in vain; it is that the Emperor should marry your Archduchess; I spoke to him about it yesterday, and he told me that his choice is not yet fixed; but," she added, "I believe that it would be, if he were sure of being accepted by you." I told her all I could to prove to her that, for me individually, I would regard this marriage as a great happiness; but I could not refrain from adding that, for an Archduchess of Austria, it might be painful to come and settle in France. She always said: "We must try to arrange this", and then she was sorry that you were not here. "Your Emperor must be made to consider that his ruin and that of his country is certain if he does not consent, [...]

Ah, the napoleonic approach to negotiations. Always start with a threat.

[...] and this is perhaps also the only way of preventing the Emperor from making a schism with the Holy See."

Religion, that'd be good, right? Your're all quite catholic in Austria, right? Imagine if you could save the Pope!

She told me that the Emperor was to lunch at her house today, and that she would then let me know something more positive. - At this moment I receive a note from Cochelet, [...]

Louise Cochelet, one of Hortense's ladies and chief intriguer in her household.

[...] who tells me that the Queen is expecting me tomorrow morning; we shall have to see what she has to say to me.

Probably added some time later:

I have not seen the Queen of Holland again, because she is ill. I therefore have nothing positive to tell you about the affair in question; but if I wanted to tell you about all the honours with which I was showered, I would not come to an end soon. At the last circle, I played with the Emperor; [...]

Cards, I presume.

[...] you can well believe that it was no small affair for me, yet I came through it with glory. He began by praising me for my diamond headband and the timeless golden dress, and then he asked me a lot of questions about my family and all my relatives; he absolutely wanted, in spite of everything I could tell him, that Louis Kaunitz was my brother.

Look, if Napoleon says that this young man is your brother, you better inform your parents to adopt the guy. Easier than trying to convince Napoleon of the opposite. (In truth, Kaunitz was a cousin.)

You cannot believe the effect of this game; when it was over, I was surrounded and courted by all the great dignitaries, Marshals, Ministers, etc. I had enough to make me happy. I had plenty of opportunity to make philosophical reflections on the vicissitudes of human affairs.

Court life really must be something special.

[ptergwen]

truth serum

a/n: ok ok ok i've had to post this four times now because it won’t show up in tags for some reason? i’m so :/ tumblr pls stop setting me up bruh. but moving on here’s a summary of the original request and i hope ya like

warnings: little bit of cursing here and there

-

when tom asked if you‘d be interested in going to a comic con with him, there was only one answer: yes. you‘ll take every chance you get to see him in his element. you’re looking forward to checking out some of the cool exhibits they’ll have — and people. comic con is a safe space for all your nerdiness. so really, both of you will be in your element that day.

the only thing you’re uneasy about is tom’s fans. you have no idea how they’ll react to seeing you by his side for hours on end. paparazzi caught you together once or twice, but you couldn’t tell much from their blurry pictures. that didn’t stop everyone from talking.

you’ve been named his new “mystery girl,” and tom still hasn’t adressed the whole situation. no matter how much he loves his fans, he’s not willing to spill every single detail of his personal life. spending time with his girlfriend doesn’t need some big explanation to please the public.

this is the first time you know for sure that you’ll be seen with him. comic cons are huge, and somebody always has their phone out at these things. you don’t want the fans to end up hating you for being there, or tom for bringing you. the way he sees it, they should just be happy he’s happy. anyone who isn’t never truly cared in the first place.

tom usually arrives early to go over his schedule and any last minute details. this time, he’s sleeping in a few hours extra with you. no one knows better than him that all day events can be draining. he wants you well rested and feeling good for it. since people are already at the venue, you’re using a different entrance to avoid getting mobbed.

“stay close, okay? i’m not sure what it’s like in there yet. might be a few people by the door, or a crowd.” you’re walking hand in hand with tom through the back lot. he feels you tense up next to him at the mention of a crowd. they overwhelm the hell out of you, and you’re suddenly feeling way underprepared for this.

“but we’re going in through the back. how are they gonna know that?” you grip his hand tighter without realizing. tom half smirks at your question and leads you over to the door. “my fans figure everything out... almost everything. you ready?”

shrugging your shoulders, you lean into his side for comfort. “sort of. i’m just getting nervous about being around so many people.” “i know, baby. not gonna lie, it’s pretty scary at first. but i’ll be with you the whole time.” he presses a quick kiss to the side of your head. you do feel better knowing he won’t leave you alone when you get inside.

“just try turning your nerves into excitement. it works for me every time. “i’ll do my best. i guess we can go in for real now.” tom’s thumb brushes over yours reassuringly, looking at you once more for any signs of doubt before he opens the door.

only a couple of fans notice tom is there, so it’s not as hectic as you thought it would be. he waves to them and says hi, a smile lighting up his face. you chew your lip nervously and let him take you to where he needs to be. obviously, you get a few stares. some pointing, some whispering. they’re all things that come with being pressed into tom holland in front of thousands of people.

tom brings you over to the check in area and gives both of your names. a woman with a headset on hands him two ID cards. he thanks her before pulling you aside so you two can have a moment of privacy.

“how is it so far? feeling okay?” his voice is soft unlike the yelling around you, which is nice. tom slips the lanyard with the ID over your head. “i’m getting used to it. i don’t know how you do this almost every day,” you admit, tugging on his own lanyard that he’s holding. he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“i’ll tell you what, it’s a lot easier when you’re with me,” he mumbles into your ear, using that as a way to subtly leave a kiss to the skin. the little things like that are what will keep you together throughout the day.

a man with a headset and planner comes up to tom. why are so many people wearing headsets? he reads off tom’s plans for today, then ushers the two of you over to do meet and greets once tom has everything down. tom already called and explained that you’d be joining him, so he had it arranged for you to sit with the photographer and watch.

that’s definitely going to get people curious. he doesn’t mind too much, as long as it makes the experience more comfortable for you.

“i’ll be right over here. you’ll tell me if you need anything, yeah?” tom gazes out at the long line of fans waiting to see him, meeting your eyes after. “don’t worry about me. go give your fans some hugs.” you squeeze his hand and smile to let him know you’re okay. he smiles back even bigger before going over to greet the first person they send over.

this set up is way better than what you’d expected. you get a front row seat watching tom do silly faces and poses, and he can check in with you from time to time. there’s the occasional “who is that?” or “is it true that you’re dating her?” question from someone nosy.

tom responds with something along the lines of “that’s y/n. she’s a really lovely girl. she’s super awesome,” followed by a wink only for you to see. you find yourself having to hide your blushing face from all of his antics.

after about two hours, tom gets a break from photo ops. he decides to use the time to do whatever you choose, since you’ve been watching him for a while. you just walk around until there’s an announcement that a hypnotist show is about to start, and anyone can attend. you’ve never seen people be hypnotized in person, and it sounds like it could be fun.

tom lets you pick the seats. you end up towards the front for a closer look. his hand rests on your thigh as soon as you’re both seated, missing being able to touch you all day. you lace your fingers with his and watch as the show starts.

you’re both having a good time, laughing along at all the different segments. the guy hosting it is really entertaining. “now, let’s move onto a part of the show i like to call ‘truth serum.’ it’s simple. i’ll choose a member from the audience and get them to spill their guts for all of you, about anything i ask. who shall it be?” he rubs his chin and looks around the room.

he makes eye contact with people around you. you’re regretting getting seats in the third row. you pray he won’t call you up, but that would be too convenient. “ah!” he claps his hands together, gesturing to you. your mouth runs dry. “thanks for volunteering, come on up!”

you look at tom, silently asking if you should. “go on. i kind of wanna see this,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you devilishly. clenching your jaw, you walk past him and onto the stage. the hypnotist taps a chair for you to sit. you just had to be the lucky person he chose. “can we get a round of applause for...” he holds his microphone down to you.

“y/n,” you say into it, your voice coming out shaky. there are at least two hundred people staring up at you right now. “y/n!” he repeats. “everyone put your hands together for this brave soul.” the audience claps, tom cheering the loudest among them all.

“so, y/n. you seem excited to be up here,” the man jokes. tom watches with amusement as you give an unsure smile at the audience. “is it that obvious?” you get a few laughs. maybe this won’t be the train wreck you’re anticipating.

“extremely. y/n, i want you to look at your right hand for me.” he takes a step back, you doing as he says. “focus on your fingers and how they’re curling towards you. keep focusing. notice how you’re feeling more and more relaxed.”

everything he’s saying is actually happening. wanting to remember this, tom takes out his phone and starts recording. “bring your hand over to your forehead. let yourself feel the skin to skin contact. just like that.” you’re starting to feel sleepier. “and close your eyes.” the hypnotist snaps, and there’s silence throughout the auditorium. “you’re in a deep sleep. well done.”

you’re completely passed out with your head hanging low. everyone claps again, gasping and chatting to each other. tom is one of the gaspers. “y/n, you just guzzled a whole can of truth serum. you’re an open book. you love to share. when i snap again, you’ll wake up and answer whatever i ask you. truthfully,” the hypnotist tells you.

he waits a moment, then snaps his fingers. your head immediately snaps up. more gasps. tom puts his hand over his mouth, muffling his laughter at whatever you’re about to say.

“good morning, y/n. how are you doing?” “stiff. my neck hurts a lot for some reason,” you answer honestly, rubbing the back of it. the hypnotist has a smug grin on his face. “very good. we’re going to start off with some basic questions to see where you’re at. they mirror the five senses. y/n, what’s your favorite thing to hear?”

“my boyfriend’s voice. oh my god, and he has the cutest hiccup laugh,” you clasp your hands under your chin. tom is glad his phone is hiding his face so no one can see his cheeks turning pink. “hiccup laugh?” the hypnotist makes a face. “it gets stuck in his throat sometimes. it’s actually so cute.”

“what about your favorite smell?” “oh, that’s an easy one. sandalwood.” you casually reveal to the audience. “tell us why you like sandalwood so much, y/n,” the hypnotist prompts you. “it’s the scent of shampoo my boyfriend uses.” tom practically melts when he catches on. all your favorite things so far are related to him.

“i think we should skip ahead and talk about that boyfriend of yours. you seem to really love him, huh?” “more than anything. if you were planning to ask about anything else that’s my favorite, i’d say him.” there’s a big “awwww” from the whole audience, tom included.

“isn’t that sweet? where is your boyfriend right now, y/n? i’m sure he’d want to hear this.” “he just did, he’s in the audience.” you tell the hypnotist as if he should already know. tom’s lovestruck smile fades away. he hopes the hypnotist realizes it’s too personal to make you keep talking about something like this.

you have no control over what you’re saying, and it’s not going to end well. “why don’t you point him out for us so we can give him a big round of applause?” scanning around for tom with bright eyes, you get out of your seat. you point at him. “he’s right there.”

the whole audience turns to look at who you’re pointing to. tom lowers his phone, his mouth open in shock. everyone starts shouting as soon as they notice it’s tom. you’re confused over what the big deal is, since you’re still not fully yourself. the hypnotist realizes the mess he just caused, quickly sitting you down again to bring you out of it.

“y/n, i’m going to snap again. when you wake up this time, all the truth serum will be out of your system,” he says just to you over the noise, tom sinking down in his seat to avoid questions. the man snaps his fingers. there’s silence like the first time, everyone waiting to see what you’ll say.

you have no memory of anything that happened a few seconds ago. all the eyes on you are freaking you out. “wh- what did i say?” you ask him, biting down hard on your lip. his eyes dart over to tom. he speaks to you without the microphone. “you told the audience about your boyfriend.” it takes a second for you to register what he said. then you see tom down low in his chair, and you’re humiliated.

for yourself, but mostly him. you can’t believe you exposed your relationship in front of all these people. you run off the stage and out of the auditoruim, too embarrassed to say anything else. tom doesn’t hesitate to chase after you.

you’re breathing hard and fast, stopping somewhere there aren’t too many people around. your mind is racing while you try to figure out what’s going to happen next. someone puts a hand on your shoulder. it’s tom. he turns you around to face him.

“fuck, i- i’m so sorry. i don’t know what was going through my head, i shouldn’t have talked about any of that stuff. this is gonna be a nightmare for you,” you spit out all at once. tom only pulls you to his chest. he rubs circles around your back, trying to calm you down.

“it’s not your fault, angel. you didn’t have a choice about saying those things. you know that, right?” huffing, you hide your face in tom’s chest. “but still. i exposed us and i exposed you and now everyone knows something you didn’t want them to. you should hate me right now.” his lips press into a deep frown at what you’re saying. he rests his chin on your head and sighs.

“baby, i’m not mad. the only reason i wanted us to be a secret was for you.” you look up at him hesitantly, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “so i didn’t destroy your whole career in two seconds?” “of course not. there have been way worse things i’ve had to deal with than publicly dating my really lovely, super awesome girlfriend. this won’t be easy, but i promise we’ll get through it together.”

you cheer up a bit hearing him repeat his words from earlier, nodding as you let yourself process everything.

“do you think anyone got me on video? or will they just post about what i said and everyone will believe them?” “i personally recorded the whole thing. not sure about the rest of the audience though,” tom proudly admits to you, making you groan into his chest. “great. that means we should probably say something before the twisted versions of the story come out,” you reason.

he considers it for a moment, and you can see when a lightbulb go off in his head. “what if i officially introduce you to some fans at my next round of photo ops? tell them about us, see how it goes. then we can decide what our next move is.”

it’s a huge relief that he’s taking this slow and giving you a say on how to go public. feeling brave, you peck his lips as a thank you. he’s surprised at first, but kisses back. he can finally see why those annoying pda couples exist. his arm takes its place around your shoulders again, yours going around his waist this time.

“let’s go share our not so secret relationship with the world.”

[queen-of-stoneharts]

Syndruin-series ch. 9/3

9. Court of manners & passion (part 3)

- Next question! What do you know about the House of Nobles? - Uhm... they are the goverment's part in Stormwind. The positions of each members are inherited. If the King is away, they rule on his behalf. - That's correct! I wondered, you even know. - King Greymane, even i prefer slaughtering on the battlefields, i haven't forgotten, how much i read, when i was a child. - Let's moving on, a last, easy question & we take a break. Name a famous Alliance paladin! - Heh, easy! Leeroy Jenkins!

-smack-

- Ow! What was that for? - Lisyndra, be serious! - Okay, okay, i was kidding... Uther, the Lightbringer...

 Finally she can rest a little. She had to re-fresh the entire history for a warm-up, next she will take etiquette lessons. It will be hard for the warrior, but everything has a price for each goals. She only endures all for Anduin, for their love. Soon, the breaktime was over & the next lesson has been started. Diplomacy meetings, how shall she handle them in the future, they even practiced a scenario. Well, Lisy nailed it... some parts, she still need to learn.

***

As night fell, she went to the Pig & Whistle to take a rest by drinking. These days are harder, than usual. 'What will tomorrow hold?', thought, while she took long sips from her beer. Only one day passed, but she already feels exhausted. She really needs something to let out the steam, maybe during breaktimes, she sneaks out to the training grounds. Yea, that would be good.

After the tavern visit, she headed back to the Keep & fell asleep so soon.

***

Days passed, and it seemed these lessons were about to paid well. Only a few days remained 'til the wedding, there was only one thing, that the young warrior should know. But now, Tess took this conversation.

- ... do you really want me to enlighten about... the wedding night? - Well, you just admitted, you are 'innocent', what is kinda suprising. - So you are, and you still want to talk about. - I have no choice. I mean, my father thinks, it's better between girl & girl, it's less uncomfortable. - Tess! Look, i really appreciate it, but somehow i still find this conversation... awkward, i think i better check some educational books, or ask a professional. The princess was silent for a moment, but she gave in once. - Well... if you really insist... - I really insist, if you don't mind! - then left & went to the library. On the way she heard two guards talking.

- ... i can tell you, that chick is amazing. We had more than five rounds, even it emptied my pouch, but worth it! - What did you say, who is she? - Some slut, named... Cordelia, i think. She lives in Dalaran.

While the guards talked about this infamous Cordelia, Lisy eavesdropped on them. Maybe she'll takes a visit & pays her for some lessons.

***

Checking again the adress, it must be the place. Lisy took a deep breath & knocked. A minute later, the door was opened & let the warrior in. Lisy observed the host. A pretty blood elf... but her eyes were glowing icy-blue... and her skin was pale... almost greyish... she was a death knight. - Are you... Cordelia? - Yes, and you are... - Lisyndra. I heard about you from someone, i require a little help.

The elf looked at her sceptically.

- Depends on, what is it. - I need you to educate me... how to... seduce. - Is that all? - Well, i have my reasons, i can tell you with more details.

Cordelia nodded, then invited her to her bedroom, while Lisy explained the situation.

- Of course, i can help you. Don't worry, i won't take your first from your beloved. Shall we begin then? Lisy nodded. 'Damn, even she's undead, she's still attractive', thought, while she put down her belongings. - Strip! - Huh? - You heard well, if you want to know seducing, let me see you first, then i'll show you what to know.

 Lisy's heart started to beat faster, but obeyed. Slowly removed her clothes, while prayed silently for forgiveness. 'Anduin... if you will find about this... forgive me!' She just want to know some stuff, it can't count as cheating on. After the last piece of clothing were removed, Cordelia ordered to lay down & let her lead. Then the elf started teasing her slowly, what made the warrior moan. She was really a pro, Lisy wondered, how many years of experience she has.

- How does it feel? - W-wonderful... ooh... - moans again, as the elf teases her sensitive part. - H-how do you do... this? - I have my ways. - suddenly stopped, then changed positions. - It's your turn, please show me, what do you know. - S-sure... - then they switched, and now the elf was under her. Lisy couldn't think more, then kissed her passionately, while gently massaged her chest. Cordelia moaned into the kiss, but didn't stopped Lisy. She even let her kissing over her body & doing more. She kept her eyes closed & gave herself to the pleasure.

***

An hour passed, both of them in their sweat, the girls cuddled tightly on the bed. Lisy stroked the elf's long, blue hair.

- Thanks. - broke the silence. - Now i know everything i need. - You're welcome. - whispered, still embracing her partner. - I should go soon, before the others notice i'm gone. - I understand. - then Cordelia let Lisy go to dress up, then the warrior opened her pouch.

- How much do i owe you? - Nothing. Don't pay... - Lisy looked at her in confusion. - Tonight you gave me something good, what is invaluable, and haven't experienced for so long. All my partners were... how can i say... kinda rough. - And you still do this... have you ever thought, to get a more proper job?

- My hunger for lust is endless. I can't soothe it easily. Since i was brought back from death, no one left me alone. I couldn't rest all day. Once we were done with the mission, every death knight took me away & lived out their desire on me. Later i started to enjoy & there was no going back.

- And have you ever thought, you may find your true love? - I don't believe in it anymore... please... just.. go, before i change my mind!

Had not to tell it twice, Lisy used her heartstone & a moment later she was at home again. She couldn't sleep at night. Her thoughts were around Cordelia... poor girl... she couldn't imagine, what disasters she had to endure & made her this. But she had to forget her, it was just only one time & no more... still, this 'first time' was... unique, and she had to admit, she really enjoyed her company. Then Lisy realized... she is also interested in her own gender... 'damn', thought.

***

 One day. Only one day separated Lisy from her big day. Everything was set down. Her dress arrived around noon & placed in her private room. Once again, she & Anduin practiced their wedding-dance a few times, the invitations were sent weeks ago, the decorations are at their places. Everything was perfect. And Lisy's education was ended on the previous day.

She was ready to rule. She spent her free time with Lathya & her mother, ‘til nightfall. Before she went back to the Keep, she stopped at Lion's Rest. The warrior haven't visited her late mentor's memorial for a long time.

- Your Majesty... - whispered. - Wherever you are right now... watch over us... tomorrow, i'll take my vow to your son, and we will be one then. I only can promise to you, i will be always by his side, whenever he feels, the waves are about to collide over him. And i promise, that i'll try to be worthy to lead the Alliance with Anduin, whatever happens. I won't let him down, or may your fury curse upon me, if i fail!

 Sad, that Varian couldn't be here in person... he would has be happy to see his son finding his other half & showing their love in front of the world. That would be perfect, but life had other plans. It wasn't the right time to grieve over the fallen, at least not now, since the whole city is excited for tomorrow's event.

Tomorrow... everything will change.

[autumn-foxfire]

1) Mina-Anon here! My dear heavens, those last chapters felt like a punch and I don't know if I recovered from it yet. I read as much as fluffy and good fics as well as the happier arcs to help me handle it. But still... I'm actually sad, you know. I'm someone who's very open and patient to give second chances and this includes the villains. I was actually very happy when Endeavor get a atonement arc (I'm still rooting for him), because I had hopes that it will happened to the villains as well.

2) I already lost hopes for Shigaraki (and trust me, I need a lot for it) and I never had any for AfO of course, but now I'm close to the point to lose any hope of an atonement arc for Touya. And I'm really sad when I come to this point. i don't know if I should still hope for the rest of the LoV, though my biggest hopes are towards Toga at this point. But Touya... it wasn't the reveal or the past that hurt me the most (though it still did hurt),

3) but rather the fact that he might be never become good again. Also, I was so angry with him during the last chapter and this is only the second time I was so angry at a character in MHA (the first one being AfO of course). I understand his points, they're not coming from nothing, but he's doing it for selfish reasons, hurting his family during the process and even involving innocents in it. What would come after he reached his goal?

4) Also, I feel so bad for the heroes here, especially the students. Even if not everyone will believe Dabis words, they all might lost the faith people had in them and might go into hiding. But like the reappearance of Best Jeanist (I never believed he was actually dead), I have still hope that at this dark moment in the existence of heroes, they will grow from their ashes and stand again against the chaos that the LoV would bring.

5) My father use to say that when you're at your lowest point, you can only get up. I think this would applies to the near future of heroes. Especially the students, who represent in my eyes maybe a far better future for the heroes. Society needs changes and I think that the key for those changes are in the hands of those students (yes, I am a student stan, as you can read here).

6) (Sorry that last part comes late, something was wrong with my internet) Do you know the song "Fear not this Night"? I imagine that the feelings of this song will be the near future for heroes and other people and it helps to still hope for a better future. Your Mina-Anon.

Mina anon!!! The light of my life <3 Here to bless me with your presence once again T-T (I hope that didn’t come across as condescending, it wasn’t meant too T-T)

I agree with you about these last two chapters, they’ve been certainly hard to deal with (even if I’ve personally been vindicated about my view of Dabi T-T While I knew he was like this, I has also hoped I was wrong, or he wasn’t as bad. Jokes on me though, he turned out to be worse :/).

Dabi has earned my ire this chapter as everyone who follows this blog of mine has probably guessed, just because how he went about the Touya reveal. It was bad enough that he was going to drag up past hurts that his family were trying to heal from publicly without their permission but he also went and dragged as many innocent people into the mix as well.

I can understand about being unsure if Dabi is too far gone to have a redemption considering that he doesn’t even seem to regret any of the things he’s done. Maybe this is because he’s currently in the heat of the moment, enjoying his reveal and finally getting his revenge, and believes himself to be entering the final arc of his revenge story, so it would really depend on how he acts after this arc (will he reflect on what he’s done? Or will he continue to double down if he manages to get away?)

Without him changing though, no redemption is coming his way :/

The next arcs after this are definitely going to be heroes rising from the ashes of their failures, I just know it! And I can’t wait to see it too because this will be the time to adress the failures in hero society and fix the wrongs that have happened. I also agree with you that the students will probably be the ones to cause the biggest change in society (it is there story after all) though I do hope we get to see the pros help too!

This is probably one of the darkest arcs in the manga yet and while I think that there are still dark moments to come, I think hope will eventually prevail!

In the meantime, I shall do what you do and read fluffy fanfiction and enjoy fluffy fanart to get me through these dark times!

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

The Serpent's Shadow || J.HS || 4

Pairing : Jung Hoseok X Reader

Genre :  Angst, prob fluff at some point

Summary : But how could the Serpent ever know? What's happening behind his back? In his own Shadow? Without looking back?

-

This story is IN the Harry Potter time line!

( Deathly Hallows Part one & two)

Wordcount: 0.8k

The Serpent's Shadow Masterlist | Next

Hoseok looks at you for a moment, contemplating on whenether to tell you or not.

" I won't judge you. I know my Hobi. He would never do something like this unless he was forced to."  You told him, your eyes shining.

He looked at you for a hard second before speaking.

" What if I'm not your Hobi?" He asked, his voice giving you shivers.

" If you weren't, you wouldn't have saved me from Crow." You told him, crossing your arms.

" Crow?" A small amused smile made it's way to his face.

"Carrow, Crow same thing." You shrugged.

" Didn't know that you were scheming teachers now." He smirked.

You gave him a pointed look.

" Stop beating around the bush. Just- talk to me. Please." You said, concern swimming in your eyes.

Hoseok studied your honesty before taking a deep breath.

Hoseok sighed as he got up, stretching his arms as he awoke once again to the sound of his parents arguing downstairs.

ever since the return of He Who Must Not Be Named, his parents have been acting weird, leaving more than necessary, no matter the time. Only last night they were out at 11'. 

It was currently holiday, meaning he had more than enough time to spend with his friends. Maybe he'd even lay his feelings for a special someone out in the open, bit he wasn't quiet sure if he was ready for that. He wasn't a gryffindor like Taehyung after all, who shamelessly chases after his crush.

" He'll never listen! He never does." He heard the voice of his mother as he walked down the marble staircase in his pajamas.

Right away he knows they're talking about him. They always are when it's negative.

" We should still try."

an eerie voice suddenly virbates trough the air, he doesn't know who it is, but the voice gives him goosebumps.

" Hoseok, my boy. Do come out from that corner. We're talking about you after all." The voice says in the same eerie way.

He's even more suprised that the man knows his name, but he doesn't care all too much about it. He moves further down the stairs and stops in the opening of the door where his parents are, the man there isn't anyone he knows, but an unspoken name soon crooses his mind.

He Who Must Not Be Named.

The man gave him an even creepier smile, he was dressed in black robes and seemed far from innocent.

" Hello my dear boy. My name is Voldemort, I am sure you've heard about me. You shall adress me as the Dark Lord, as I will offer you a position in my army." The man- The Dark Lord speaks as if it's a happy thing.

​​Hoseok just swallows in response, but The Dark Lord doesn't seem to mind it. As if he had expected his reaction.

" I have a mission for you. I have heard from Draco Malfoy that you're a talented wizard. A strong one. Your mission will be simple. You shall kill Dumbledore for me." He smiles creepily again.

-

" You refused? Than don't get me wrong, but how are you still alive? Doesn't he kill everyone who refuses?" You ask Hoseok in comcern.

He nods.

" He does. But he tough that I had potential. So instead he decided to 'train' me. The things he made me do.-" He cut himself off by closing his eyes snd clenching his fists, tears starting to form.

" I- I need you to know that I didn't want to do it. But it was them or me, Y/N. I don't want to die." Hoseok's sobbing now, his shoulders shaking slightly due to his emotions.

Now this was your Hobi. The Hobi who hated hurting other people. The hobi who liked to be with you all day. Who used to smile like sun and used to have the attitude of an angel. The one who everyone tough was misplaced in Slytherin until he beat someone up bcos they insulted one of his friends. The one who would never hurt you.

" Oh, hobi." You sigh, your insides throbbing for him.

You understood somewhat what he felt. You now knew what he was, but you'd never leave him, and he needed to know that.

You didn't give it a second tough before moving to hug him.

He didn't resist your affection, holding you close while he quietly sobbed in your neck while you held him gently and messed with his hair.

After a moment he calmed down and pulled away, looking at you with soft tenderness in his eyes.

" Why do you still want to be with me? Even after all I've done?" He asked sniffing.

You smiled sadly at him.

" Cause' I love you."

[ A/N: I know that all the chapters till now have been sad & I'm sorry bout it but I promise that there will be sum fluff in the next chapter.]

​​​​​​

[youremeimyou]

The Lesser Gods of Bangtanis(pt.3)

Introduction - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

pairings: Kim Taehyung x reader, Jeon Jungkook x reader, OT7(this fic is about all of the boys’ characters, not just ‘Y/Nxsomeone’ focused) genre: angst, fluff, comedy, adventure.. -fantasy au, medieval au, magic au, royal au word count: 3.9k warnings: psychic episode?(trance-like state)

Description: Princess Y/N, who holds the fate of her people on her shoulders arrives at the kingdom of Bangtanis, that is the home of our mighty heroes. What will the destiny of our heroes be, when she brings along a threat called dark magic and a little bit of love with her?

A/N: Back with pt3 after a long time.. I don’t wanna quit on this fic cuz I really like the story so I’ll try really hard to get motivated for the next parts as well(feedback really helps) Anyways, this part is actually just Y/N and Tae going on a fancy royal date. But of course with a little twist at the end. Enjoy!

Prince Taehyung arrived at the cottage and saw that there were two horses outside the door. He pet the horses and went in. As soon as he was inside, Y/N and Jungkook -who had obviously been discussing something, sitting closely on the sofa- immediately stopped talking and whipped their heads towards the door.

"You're back!" the princess mused. She didn't know why his return made her feel giddy inside.

"Seems like I'm interrupting." Taehyung replied coldly as he stared at Jungkook, who had already gotten up in order to leave.

"Of course not, my lord. In fact I was just leaving." The younger boy respectfully stated before walking to the door. "Have a good night, my lord. Sleep well, Y/N." And with that he went out, rendering the prince dumbfounded with the way he adressed the princess. That shy village boy just bid her goodnight in a very sincere way.

"So what are the news from the castle?" Y/N went closer to Taehyung and sat on a chair. But he was busy noticing the bread crumbs on the table. "Did you eat with Jungkook?" he asked without looking at her.

"Oh, Guk said his sister prepared something for him. He shared it with me."

"Guk, is it?" The prince was even more bothered than before. Since when were those two such good friends?

"Hm?" Y/N acted like she didn't catch the annoyed tone in his voice.

"Well I hope you enjoyed your little picnic. I'll have this lovely meal by myself, then." He took the food he brought from the castle out of his bag and placed them on plates. Y/N's eyes grew big, it looked delicious. "It's been a long while since we ate, though." she said while staring at the food Taehyung was enjoying. After a while, he pushed some of the plates in front of her, silently offering her to join. She smiled excitedly in return.

"So did you talk to the king? What did he say?" Y/N asked, her voice muffled because of the food.

"Yes. He said he'll announce his final decision tomorrow at the feast."

Y/N gulped down her last bite in shock. "Feast?!" She got up from her seat before continuing. "What feast?" Taehyung knew she'd protest to such an idea.

"The traditional welcoming feast. They're really strict about these things. It's in order to help the people feel as though things are okay, I guess." Taehyung also stood up and started cleaning the table from food crumbs. He was very calm, in contrast to Y/N.

"But things aren't okay! I want to know if-"

"Namjoon hyung is most likely to announce good news, like that he'll send reinforcements." Taehyung added as he organized the chairs around the table back in place.

Y/N's protests stopped immediately and her eyes started sparkling. "Really?"

"Yeah. After our last talk, he seemed to have finally made his mind that he'll help."

Hearing this made Y/N so happy that in a moment of excitement she leaped towards Taehyung, capturing him in a tight hug. He was surprised at first but then he wrapped his arms around her, too. After staying like that for some time, Y/N realized what she was doing and quickly retreated back.

"Sorry, I-" the princess cursed on the inside for blushing over something so simple. "I'm just really glad to hear that." And Taehyung understood her excitement. He too was glad. Almost like it was his own kingdom that would be saved. He gave her a warm smile.

"You have to appear at the feast tomorrow, though. Hyung wants to talk to you."

Even though the idea of a feast at a time like this felt absurd, Y/N knew kingdoms had to maintain traditions at rough times for their people's sake. So she nodded without any more complaints.

"But you can't make an appearance wearing these boy trousers of yours." Taehyung teased. She was wearing the same shirt and pants she wore the day she arrived in the city. Instead of the daily robes the prince had borrowed for her from Duchess Minji.

"Hey, I washed these yesterday. They're clean and presentable." Y/N never really was comfortable wearing dresses in daily life because she'd always be running around, sparring or horse riding.

"But they don't exactly match the dress code for a fancy event, do they?"

The princess rolled her eyes. "I don't have my luggage here-" she was interrupted by Taehyung clearing his throat and pointing at the side of the door where he put her luggage after carrying it here on his way back.

"You brought it.." Everytime he'd act thoughtful like this, it caught Y/N off guard.

"Still, you probably don't have anything fancy in there. So I also brought this." He handed her the fancy gown he bought from the royal tailor. A dark red night dress with delicate embroidery stitched around the neck cleavage. Even Y/N who didn't really like dresses thought it was beautiful. "I think this will fit you perfectly." Taehyung's mouth curved up to form his signiture smirk.

"Whatever, Prince Smug."

The next day Y/N woke up to find Taehyung already gone. He had left a note on the table that read,

"Be ready before sundown and don't go running off to Jungkook or anything. I'll come pick you up and take you to the castle."

She was planning to spar with Jungkook again, today. But after all the effort the prince seemed to be making for her and her cause, she decided to do as he said.

Sundown came by fast. Y/N had done her best to look her most presentable self but there was no sign of the prince. The princess couldn't wait to talk with King Namjoon, to thank him and discuss details. Her impatience growing every minute, she decided to wait outside. So that when he arrives, she could scold the prince immediately for being late. But.. Then he showed up, running down the forest path on his beautiful, radiant white horse.

He stopped in front of Y/N, wearing a confused look. "Why are you outside?" It took a moment for Y/N to register his words. Nobody could deny the prince's natural attractiveness. But in this graceful formal attire, he was a sight for sore eyes to say the least.

"I- you were-"

"Late, I know. I'm sorry. I was trying to look more presentable." He had to take a quick breath once he took in the way Y/N looked. "But- I would've tried harder if I knew you'd be looking like this."

The princess nervously blinked. Where were her words? Why couldn't she mutter them out? She hoped the darkness of the evening was hiding the slight red of her cheeks.

"I was definetely spot on again with your body measurements." Prince Smug was back with his endless teasing, which brought Y/N out of the daze she was in. "Well, you almost look like an actual prince like this." Taehyung lifted an eyebrow but Y/N added quickly. "I'm pretty sure it's the horse, though."

He rolled his eyes and held out his hand to help her get on the horse. Being always eager to prove her skills, she wouldn't have normally taken his hand. But since tonight was a special occasion, she decided to play the lady role a little better.

The royal ballroom was bigger than the one at the princess' castle. Decorations for the feast were wonderful and if it wasn't for the chaos that was going on back at her home, she could really enjoy attending this event.

Taehyung stopped her suddenly and pulled her to a corner outside of the hall. "I forgot- if anyone asks, you are a duchess that came with the princess. We should come up with a name, too." He kept listing female names he knew. It was quite a long list.

"I won't remember any of those. My double's name is Yuna. I can use that."

"Okay, Yuna it is. Just stay close to me, no one would be suspicious of someone I brought with me." He said and took Y/N's hand to place it softly on his arm. Then they entered the hall once again but this time the prince seemed even more graceful as they strolled inside.

Everyone expected him to sit beside the king and his advisors as he usually does. But instead, he pulled a seat away from where all the high ranking people were, helped the princess sit down and took the seat next to her for himself. All the attention in the room was focused on the two. Until Jung Hoseok started speaking.

"Thank you all for coming. Despite the unfortunate events that are occuring, we are grateful to have Princess Y/N and her company here with us. Let us all come together and support each other through these hard times."

A round of applause came from the crowd and then the king started talking. "Times are indeed hard for the curse of dark magic has returned." People gasped in terror. "But, it cannot be as strong as it used to be. And we as a kingdom that won't stand for cruelty, shall help our friends in overcoming this threat." Some people were surprised, some were afraid and some seemed to support the idea. But the princess was the happiest of all. Taehyung could see it all over her face.

Meals and drinks were served and there was music in the background. But after a while the music stopped. Only a drum roll could be heard. Y/N saw everyone turning their heads to the door in excitement. Then, the jester made an entrance. A man was throwing knives at him from the other side and he dodged every single one while elegantly dancing and twirling around. The princess was shocked. Was he crazy? One wrong move and he could easily be killed.

When he was done, the crowd gave him a standing ovation. But the jester kept the show going with more amazing moves, magic tricks and dance numbers. Y/N had never seen such an entertainment from a jester before, or from anyone.

The show finished and the jester took a seat next to Taehyung and Y/N after reciving another round of applause. Y/N turned to him. "That was.. How did you do all of those? Your performance was incredable!" Jimin smiled and blushed shyly, as if he didn't just make everyone in the room fall in love with him.

"We thank our jester who never ceases to impress us with new and unbelievable shows." Kim Seokjin said as he gathered the people's attention. "It is time however, for another type of entertainment. Princess Y/N, would you mind joining us for a rather fun tradition of ours?"

Taehyung had to hold Y/N's arm to stop her from getting up after the mention of her name. "Having a double is new for you, isn't it?" He was right. It was kind of hard getting used to it for Y/N. Her double on the other hand got up at once and walked towards the center of the hall. "Of course, it would be an honour." Thank god Yuna was a good actress.

"We usually have representitives of both kingdoms participate in something as an icebreaker and even cultural bonding. I thought you might represent yours and for us it could be.." Seokjin trailed off, searching around the room for a candidate. "Well, a prince would suit best for a princess so it shall be Prince Kim Taehyung."

Taehyung had been selected to put on a quick show like this many times, in many feasts with many princesses. Unsurprised, he went next to Yuna, Y/N’s double. But on the inside he wished he could be doing this with the actual princess, somehow.

“Excellent! As our guest of honour, you should choose what you’ll show the good people here, princess. Would you like to sing? Or dance?” Kim Seokjin asked excitedly while Yuna looked around, unsurely. “You can even throw some knives at him like earlier with the jester if you’d like.” Seokjin joked in a teasing tone and everyone laughed at his suggestion.

“I heard you were an actor, Prince Taehyung. I also love theatre, so.. perhaps a quick scene?”

Taehyung was surprised. Normally most would choose to have a dance with the tall, handsome prince. But it made sense as he thought more about it, since Yuna was already acting, even in that very moment. So he politely nodded and went next to Kim Seokjin who was still standing near his seat.

“Who is that lady standing over there by her lonesome?” he asked Seokjin, clearly in character. And Seokjin -another theatre artist- caught up quickly. “I know not, sir.”

Taehyung started walking slowly towards Yuna again. “Oh, she teaches torches how to burn bright. She stands out against the night. Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope’s ear. Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear. Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I never saw true beauty till this night.”

While he said his lines, every women was shooting jealous stares at who they thought was the princess. But Taehyung’s attention was focused on the actual one, who was sitting behind her double. Which had left Y/N baffled. She quickly blamed the little vine she had, convincing herself the eye contact with the prince was an illusion of her mind.

Even Yuna, who happened to be a great actress was left speechless at Taehyung's performance and couldn't come up with a response. So the show ended quickly with the crowd applauding. Yuna and Taehyung went back to their seats after bowing to each other and the feast went on.

"I told you I was an actor, princess. How did you like my performance?" Taehyung asked Y/N in a low voice.

She responded as quietly. "You're lucky you were up there with Yuna. I would've chosen to throw knives." Taehyung faked a dramatic gasp and they both giggled. "Tell me Prince Romantic, which one of these lovely duchesses have you borrowed this dress from? I thought I'd be able to tell from the way she'd look at me but more than just one are sending me death stares." Y/N asked as she searched the hall with her eyes.

"I didn't borrow it. I had seen this dress in the royal tailor's chambers, once. He never sold it to any of the duchesses, claiming that it was a speacial piece of art."

"How did you get your hands on it, then?"

"I convinced him that this piece of art would be worn by someone no less than art, herself."

Y/N wasn't expecting such a compliment and therefore she was once more baffled and very much embarresed at her blushing cheeks. She wanted to not be speechless at his words but her mind couldn't come up with anything. Thankfully, King Namjoon interrupted.

“I don’t think I’ve met this fair lady you’re accompanying tonight, Taehyung?”

“Oh, my lord I’m sorry. This is Duchess Yuna who came with Princess Y/N.” the two played along, making sure people nearby would hear and not get suspicious. Then the king took a seat next to Y/N and began talking in a low voice. “My lady, I’m sorry for the inconvinience. You hide yourself while this whole feast was organized primarely for you.” The king seemed somehow intimidating to Y/N at first but now she could see the kind side of him.

“It’s alright, really. I’m just glad to have the chance to talk to you, my lord.”

“As I’ve said earlier, we are willing to help you. But I need to prepare my men before sending them out to fight the creatures of the night. They might be the best warriors in the realm but even they don’t know the terrors of dark magic.”

“Of course, I agree. And I have to add that I’m very thankful for your support.”

The king sincerely smiled and continued. “I’m still not sure if my reinforcements will be enough. What about your army?”

“They’re all locked in the dungeons. At least.. they were when I left.” The princess could feel sorrow bulding up inside her again at the thought of leaving. But there was no other choice. “If we can free them, they’ll be ready to fight.” And of course, if they’re not dead.

“I don’t think creatures of the night would kill them. Instead they’d want to use them to enhance their army. So, they’d be trying to break them.” The king said as if he read Y/N’s mind. But Y/N knew her people were strong minded. She could feel that there was still hope. “I know they’ll hold on until their last breath.” She said confidently.

“Then, we shall free them once we’re there.”

After discussing all of the details the king went back to his throne and a short while later, the feast came to an end. People one by one started to leave.

“I think we should also be heading back.” Taehyung whispered in Y/N’s ear. She nodded but before they could leave, Min Yoongi showed up, requesting to talk to the princess. Taehyung could tell he wanted to speak only with her so he went to find Jimin, leaving them alone.

“I hope the cottage is alright for you, princess. I know it’s not much but-”

“No! It’s more then enough Lord Yoongi. Thank you for allowing me to stay there.” Y/N really didn’t care for comfort in her situation. She was in fact glad to be out of sight.

“Listen, princess. I know the king has decided to send our men to help your kingdom. I want you to know I was against it.”

This came as a shock to Y/N.

“Not because I’m unsympathetic, but because I have exprience when it comes to dark magic.” His face became gloomy and his voice almost trembled as he spoke. “But the king would never go back on his word. We’ll face nightmares beyond your worst imaginations in order to save your land. So, I need to know if you're strong enough to make hard choices.”

What did he mean by that? Y/N couldn’t understand. But she knew one thing. “I don’t know what I’ll face but I assure you, there is nothing I wouldn’t do to save the people I love and care about. I hope that's a good enough answer for you.”

Min Yoongi nodded after staring her in the eyes for a while and left. Just as he was going, Taehyung came back with Jimin beside him. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah..”

Taehyung noticed the confusion on her face but decided to ask her about it when they get to the cottage, where they could speak freely. It was silent as him, Y/N and Jimin walked out of ballroom and into the hallway. Unable to bare the tension, Jimin decided to crack a couple of stupid jokes and comments about the night. Which eventually had Taehyung cackling and even the confused princess smiling. But then something happened.

Jimin suddenly collapsed to the ground. He was shaking and unconscious. There was no response as Taehyung and Y/N called out his name time after time, panic taking over them. His eyeballs had gone completely white and his pupils were gone. While Taehyung helplessly called for the guards, Jimin finally came out of it. Eyes going back to normal and his consciousness returning.

“Jimin! Are you alright? What happened? What-”

Y/N stopped Taehyung from yelling loudly. “Let’s just get him to the physician.”

With the guards’ help they carried him to the physician’s chambers quickly. After examining him carefully he shook his head from side to side in confusion. “There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with him. Not physically, at least.”

“Are you absolutely sure, physician?” Taehyung’s tone was deadly serious. Not that it wasn’t obvious before but the extreme concern on his features showed Y/N clearly how much he really cared for his best friend.

“Yes, my lord. As always, he’s very healthy.”

Jimin tried to stand up but Taehyung stopped him from moving. “Not so fast, jester.”

“Taehyung you heard the phys-”

“I saw you back there and you were not alright, Jimin.”

Jimin gave up with a sigh. “Okay, I’ll tell you what’s going on. But we have to get out of here first.”

They got out of the room and went to Jimin’s chambers, all the while the prince cautiously watched the jester. They sat Jimin down and he started explaining.

“This isn’t the first time. I thought they were just nightmares but now-” he stopped himself. But Taehyung was impatient. “What? What do you see?” he asked.

Jimin hesitantly answered. “It’s always the same thing. You on your knees. And a blade run through your chest.” Neither Taehyung nor Y/N was expecting that.

“And there’s a man in front of you, looking down at you. It feels like I know him in the dream. But I can’t make him out when I wake up.”

Both Y/N and Taehyung were looking at him in complete shock and utter confusion. Jimin faked a smile. “It’s just a recurring dream, guys-”

“A dream you suddenly start to have going in a trance when a moment ago you were wide awake?” Y/N cut him off. “Jimin, you’re having visions.”

He laughed in disbelief. “I’m not an oracle, princess.”

“But you do have magic. I could tell from the moment I met you. You’re always subtle but I’ve spent time with many wizards, it didn’t escape my attention.”

“Wha-”

“Oh, come on. Do you deny always being able to tell when people lie? And you can tell exactly what people are thinking just by looking at them, can’t you? You’re a reader. It’s rare even amongst wizards but it’s obvious that’s what you are!”

It was silent for a moment. Y/N guessed Taehyung was trying to process all that new information.

“I always follow your hunches and you never turn out to be wrong. Thinking back to all of those moments, there literally isn’t a single time you weren’t right!” It looked like Taehyung was having a moment of clarity. But then he frowned. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I never thought it was magic, I swear! I always thought I had strong senses. That’s probably all there is to it anyway-”

“That morning you brought me and Y/N breakfast, you just came storming in. But I know for a fact that I locked the door the night before.”

And Jimin’s moment of clarity hit him right then. “I know. It was locked. I just wished it wouldn’t be and.. it wasn’t anymore.” he admitted. Both to them and to himself.

“And these visions are proof that your skill are improving-” Y/N tried to explain more but Jimin snapped at her. “No! They can’t be visions of the future that would mean that Taehyung-” he lowered his volume before continuing. “that he’s going to get fatally wounded.”

As if they didn’t have enough troubles at hand everything had gotten ten times more complicated. Taehyung made them promise not to speak of this anywhere for the time being, in order to protect Jimin’s identity as an unregistered wizard. And they all swore to trying to figure all of this out together as a team.

...

A/N: Soo yeah.. things are probably about to go downhill from now on. Though idk when it'll come out, pt4 is in my plans if anyone follows the series. The theatre piece is from Romeo and Juliet(with a few adjustments of mine to make it fit the story) because no way could I write an actual improv, way out of my league. Thank you if you read my thing and hope you enjoyed it :) pls stay at home, wash your hands and take good care of yourself.

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Reviews: The Lost Harp of Mirvana!

The ducks head under the sea, no accusations just friendly crustacians under the sea.. along with some sorta monster, mer hippies voiced by voice acting legends and della being unable to enjoy any of this because she’s hiding back at the sub. Take a dive under the cut. 

I’ll confess this wasn’t one I was even remotely excited about going in: I’ts not that I thought it’d be bad: the series is at it’s peak right now, I figured i’td be entertaining like last week, it just had the misforutne of being right before we finally get Daisy next week, and recent episode solicits for the two afte ronly made it worse: Fenton’s third episode (hopefully he gets two this season), that’s also hueycentric and will hopefully make gyro less dickish, and a wrestling episode because i’m a casual wrestling fan and huey having to play the heel against a norse snake god sounds fucking amazing. SO yeah “Hippie mermaids and Louie being suspcious only to oh no be proven wrong about being suspcious” as I predecited the episode would go sounded boring in comparison.  But i’m not afraid to eat crow... metaphorically, literally I don’t want to eat a crow it’d taste miserable and I don’t want to eat this crow because I love him.   

But on dreading this ep.. I was blown away. Part of it is low expectations: I had really none other than “it’ll be decent” going in, but that only carries you so far. No this episode was fantastic, adressed a problem i’d had since “Timephoon!”, if not earlier, and had some great guess casting. It was a throughly enjoyable, funny episode. Will it probably end up on my faviorites list like the premire duo might? no, but it’s still damn good. Let’s get into the why shall we Our story this week is fairly simple: The Ducks are headed under the sea to find the lost harp of mirvana, sans Launchpad because he had to go help an ex girlfirend, hang out with darkwing, it was his day off, they had enoguh characters to juggle as is, he got his head stuck in a jar again, I dunno. But refreshingly Beakly is present! Seriously this IS something I wanted since season 1: her coming along with the family more. She rarely does, which makes some small sense given she’s the housekeeper but has made less and less since they have a ghost butler and sh’es family at this point.  I get she has to earn her keep and what not, and wants to show up her ghostly rival, but come on. Thankfully they have come on and while i’m not sure if it’ll be a common thing going forward, it IS nice to have her for this one.  The story itself is nicely divded once our heroes run into the mirvanans themselves, zen mermaids, our focus ones voiced by  hyden walch and greg cripes, who you may know as starfire and beast boy from the teen titans cartoon... andtheotherone... as well as voicing Princess Bublegum and 2k12 Michealangeo respectivley. I Love these two and it was a treat to have them voice mermaid hippies.  Our party quicklky splits up into three plots that converge at the end: Louie, being naturally suspcious after nearly being sacrificed by seemingly benevlonet societies 20 something times (and Dewey having 71 according to the tally given this episode that I painstakingly counted. The boy is one braincell starved for attention) is suspcious this is a midsommar type thing and he’s in the middle of some sorta death cult as usual, while webby, a trusting soul, belivies nothing is wrong and the mer people are genuine, with Beakly backing her up despite seemingly going against her nature.  Now this plot alone seems stock for any show, but works here since it’s rooted in character; Louie sees all the angles and thus all the cliches adventurers run into. He’s been at this for at LEAST a year, he’s seen just enough to get how a certain story will probably go and being a grifter by nature, he dosen’t trust easy to begin with.  In contrast while Webby CAN be suspcious, her being naturally trusting has also been part of her character from the start.  She genuinely TRUSTS people and gives them a chance first and unless their a clear enemy of scrooges, will not turn her back on them. This is best shown with her relationship with Lena: even AFTER getting clear evidence Lena was a  spy the whole time, and even without the evidence that after a certain point it was a lie, she refused to fully belive Lena had betrayed her... and was rewarded with Lena giving her life for webby. She trusted Violet even after Violet had been hiding her intentions and had a dangerous magical artifact from her arch enemy on her, and was again rewarded this time with Lena coming back and getting another lifelong friend out of the deal in Violet. Webby has a faith in people that pays off more than not..t hough we’ve also seen that faith backfire, mostly in scrooge as scrooge is a flawed man and has serious issues, whether it’s a combination of flu and gaslighting driving him insane, or him lashing out at her at his weakest moment. Her optimisim both fuels her and has made her life better but has sometimes blindsided her to the flaws in people, especially her hero. It’s as bojack horseman put it “When you look at life through rose colored glasses, you miss all the red flags”. What keeps this intresting as the two go into an off limits danger cave to find out what’s inside, Louie to find proof he’s right and Webby to go with him to prove he’s wrong, is Beakly. After saving the two from a monster, Beakly keeps boosting webby..then privatley admits as the audience probably guessed she’s also deeply suspcious and simply dosen’t want to shatter her niece’s worldview until they have evidence. And this is where that thing I wanted comes into play: see last season during “Timephoon!” beakly is directly conrasted as a parent with Della, having raised two children and being wiser. And while she was in that moment.. Beakly isolated her grandchild, and basically kept her in a guilded cage while training her to be a weapon out of fear of loosing what little she had left. LIke with Donald’s smothering parenting, it’s understandable, but it should be adressed.. and this episode does, but thankfully dosen’t make Betina unsympathetic either: Every parent, or in my case uncle, has to lie once in a while, especially now with the Covid-19 pandemic. It’s natural. But Betina has gone overboard to try and protect Webby’s inoccence.. and it’s backfired. Not preparing her for scroog’es worse behavior lead to him outright destroying her during “Last Crash of the Sunchaser” when he temporarliy disowned her.  And here it leads to a damn powerful scene with great acting from both Toks and Kate . The trio find the harp, voiced by Rhetta aka Donna from parks and recreation, whose basically the harp from the “raiders of the lost harp” episode of the original, the first episode of said show I ever saw and a classic about a harp that would melodically say “no no no, your fibbing fibbing fibbing” when someone lied, which this harp does, if not every time. She reveals her former owner, the king of mirvana who the hippies build their society after his example, basically ducked repsonsiblity while things fell apart and spent too long underwater (the mirvanans can also walk on land) and became the monster from earlier, and the rest will share his fate if not told

The powerful part comes when Beakly tries to lie.. and the harp keeps shutting her out till she’s forced to admit the truth: you can just.. feel the pain coming from the poor woman, and webby folds into a depressed state. Naturally Louie realizes, once they get back to the rest of the family, more on that in a second, and seeing that the mermaids did NOT realize their king was a monster nor plan to feed them to him, webby was right and tells them to have hope and that the society they built IS valid even if their king was a dipstick, he rebuilds webby and after everythings wrapped up webby and beakly apologize and hug. It’s a damn good plot even if the “Louie realizes he was wrong and wasn’t right abotu them being evil” parts were predictable.. it worked due to the excellent character work, with Louie also realizing being a cynical dick is kind of obonxoious. A damn strong a plot The subplots are also rooted throughly in character while still being entertaining,especially once the a-plot gets heavy towards the end: Della in the c plot stays behind because she’s afraid of fish, only conquering it breifly at the end to help her family and punch a man in the face, but it’s nice to not only see some new bits to her as well as some neruosis of her own. She is donald’s sister: he can’t hog all of it for the two of them.  The main subplot though centers on the remaining family trying to earn their way to the harp by doing zen arts and crafts and works due to character: Donald becomes a hilaroius zen master in moments (though earlier he rebuffed a gently pat on the chest by the lady mermaid, though given she’s super pretty and he’s, for now, single and has been for a while.. jsut go for it. You’ll probably get a three way with the other one (who isn’t my type but it’s more the man bun than anything. Loose that and.. yeah i’ll be int hat mer sandwitch), but I digress, Donald finds inner peace, likely because well. he WANTS IT. He wants to be happy and calm, even if the world smacks him in the face and tells no. Granted said peace is disrupted in the most hilarous way possible simply by Huey telling him they think his barbeque is merely okay, but he deserves credit. The boys also quickly find it, Dewey making a mermaid tail with hot rod flames and huey making a woodchuck one but what makes the subplot is that scrooge..c an’t. He hates this society, he hates hippies and he LOATHES self reflection. It’s like this society was magicaly generated to piss him of and i’ts wonderful to watch.  And as a quick aside bit before we go Rhetta is awesome as the harp, not the parks cast member I woudl’ve chosen as my first round draft pick for the series but she does greatly and has great timing (especially when Louie talks about selling her) and it was nice to see a bit of my first ducktales experince come back in an intresting new way.  Overall this episode was a VERY plesant suprise, and taught me to be more open to an ep in the future even if it dosen’t look like it has a huge personal draw. It was excellent.And now before I go i’ve decided each week, especially now we have a enough, to put the episode in the ranking of each and every episode this season and placing them in comparison of one another. I might do a list ranking the first season and second seasons on their own for fun. But for now here’s season 3 so far, so you can see where the ep stacks comparitvley: 1. Quack Pack! 2. The Challenge of the Senior Junior Woodchucks! 3. The Lost Harp of Mirvana! 4. Double O Duck in You Only Crash Twice.  I”ll see you next week for DAISY AT LAST, the return of my boys the cablleros and some suprises and pies of all sizes ashurldy. Until then, courage. 

[versailvino]

a debt that has been paid || oliver x mc [distant shores fanfic] uninvoked feelings II

I am back with another Oliver fanfic. This is a part two to whatever a heart desires, which you can find in my profile.

Notes:

# mc’s name is James Whitlock

# english is not my first language

# i love oliver.

Warnings:

# angst

# hurt/blood

Tags:

@keviriass [special dedication to you, because you pushed me to write it, thanks ❤️] @bellaraines @lolimugly @wayhavensmasonsbitch

Summary:

He knew the navy will get to them one day. And when they do, the only thing left is to fight for freedom, even if it means to fight someone the heart desires over everything else...

As soon as James saw a navy ship on the horizon, he knew they were in trouble. So when minutes later he heard Edward screaming:

"They’re trying to board! Everyone, get yer weapons ready!", he grabbed his sword and ran to join the crew on board.

He was right on time to see a big ship full of navy men get closer to Poseidon’s Revenge. James pointed his sword at the nearest navy sailor, as he slowly approached him. A couple more of unknown men stepped on the board, then got out of the way as to make a place for someone else to enter.

And then James took a glance at a familiar man, who’s long hair were tied at the back of his head, hidden beneath a black captain’s hat. His face was calm, but voice was filled with rage.

"Edward Mortemer, surrender yourself along with your crew and the navy will promise you a quick death!"

Edward came closer, pointing his sword straight at Oliver’s chest.

"And if we don’t surrender?"

Oliver threw him a scowling glance.

"Then we shall solve it in a fight."

Edward said nothing, instead threw himself straight into Oliver with a yell.

At once, every navy man attacked, and James found himself surrounded by three of the sailors. He took better hold of his sword, and then attacked one of them, quickly disarmed him and punched in the face. The following two were also greeted with James' fury and a series of kicks, but one of them managed to kick him in the chin and, as James stumbled, he heard a quick "Duck!". Next moment he heard a shot and when he finally took a glance at his opponent, he was dead on the floor with a gun wound on his forehead. James turned back and saw Charlie with a gun pointed straight at another sailor, before she pulled the trigger and jumped to the next enemy.

"Next time better watch yer back, love!" she shouted, as they fought another two men.

Blood dripped off of his chin, when James jumped over one of the sailors and ended him with a slash of his sword. Just as he was about to fight off another one, he heard Edward’s scream of pain. He doged and looked to where the captain layed on the floor, his sword a few feet away. Oliver stood tall beside him and pointed his sword to Edward’s throat.

"Oh no, does that mean we lost?" James thought, but then looked at Edward once again and could see in his eyes that he never will let the navy win. With a yell, Edward kicked Oliver and jerked up, grabbing his sword along the way. The fight started again, and even more screams filled the air along with the sound of sword hitting a sword.

James finished off a dozen more of sailors and then found himself back to back with Edward, as a couple more of their enemies circled them, cutting away form Oliver.

"Mr. Whitlock, do you mind if I borrow this for a second?" Edward asked, and, without waithing for James’ response, took his sword. Then he took a step back, and jumped over the men surrounding them. Disposing them took him only a couple of seconds, and when he found himself again by James' side, he threw him his sword with a quick "Thank ye".

In the heat of the fight James didn’t realise when he was sweept away from Edward and suddenly he found himself face to face with...

"Oliver. What a pleasure to meet you again."

James grinned, as he reflected Oliver's blade with his own.

They circled each other for a moment, and then Oliver attacked again.

His movements were smooth and fast, just as if he was born with a sword in hand.

James dodged another blow, and grinned.

"You are good with a sword."

"Why, thank you. It took years of practice. You are not so bad yourself, James."

"You flatter me, I’ve only held a sword a couple of times."

"Then you indeed are insanely skilled."

Unexpectedly, James found himself pressed against the wall, with Oliver's body close to him, their chests pressing against each other as they breathed hard. He could feel a blade held tight to his neck, and Oliver’s fingers caressed his wounded chin.

James winced in pain.

"Ah, I am sorry James. I did not intend to cause you any pain. "

Then Oliver slightly bowed his head to whisper into James' ear.

"Surrender, James, and we will both be able to escape."

"What about Edward and the crew?"

"They will be judged and later hanged for their crimes."

For a moment, a silence fell between them. Then, as James tilted his head, his lips closer to the other man's, he whispered

"Oliver..."

And then he moved, as he pinned Oliver against the wall, this time taking his sword and throwing it behind him.

"I can’t let you do this..."

Their lips met only for a quick moment, before he heard his name being screamed. He turned back just as a stray navy sailor swung a sword at him.

James kicked him, and swung his blade, ending his life. Next moment, more of them arrived, yelling in rage. And as Oliver tried to parry their blows, his blade sunk into James's side.

James yelled in pain, stumbling on the floor. When he looked down, his shirt was soaked with fresh, red blood flowing from the wound. As he tried to stop the bleeding with his hand,he saw Oliver getting shot by Edward, and then the captain got to him.

The pirate was yanking him and yelling something, but James couldnt quite understand the words. As he looked back, all he saw were navy men dropping their weapons, and Edward kicking Oliver in rage.

James gathered himself with the last of his strenght, and approached Edward, holding him back and yelling:

"Leave him, he’s hurt!”

Edward tried to jerk away, screaming back:

"So are you, James! This goddamn navy dog hurt you and i will make him pay!"

After a moment more of fighting, Edward gave up.

"I am sorry, James, I failed you" he muttered "Forgive me..."

James eyed Oliver, laying bloodied on the deck. He looked him as well, with those familiar brown eyes, this time filled with pain.

Edward gathered himself and angrily adressed Charlie:

"Throw the alive in the locker and get rid of the bodies."

She nodded in understatment.

Eyeing Oliver, he scowled.

"As for this one here, lock him away from the others. I will take care of him later.”

The captain spat on the floor, near Oliver’s body, and walked away towards his cabbin.

James took a last glance at the lieutenant, as Henry jerked him away. 

[yeniayofnymeria]

Arya Stark and Valkyrie

(It’s not my theory but i need to share. It’s really interesting subject.  It's really long but I promise, it's worth reading. )

I have a crackpot theory that the FM have some prophecy or at least some recruitment profile regarding a rare girl with Valkyrie-like abilities or role. The Red priests of R'hllor have their prophecy of Azor Ahai reborn and the Targaryens have the Prince that was Promised. There is the legend of the Last Hero about the Long Night that belongs to Westerosi First Men beliefs. But they are not the sole factions and societies and orders in the books that may have some sort of prophecy about a special person. I think the FM have a secret prophecy that fits Arya's profile. And I even go as far as to propose this prophecy is based on the identity of the First FM - a woman and not a man, who served the slaves as some nurse with food and drink. That's how she knew their prayers and was able to administer them the poison to help them die. And one of the sayings in the books is that poison is a woman's weapon.

What are Valkyries in mythology?

Valkyrie = "chooser of the slain". (meaning of the word)

Original Valkyries

Originally these were woman who were Odin’s helpers on the battle field. To prepare for Ragnarok, warriors needed to be picked amongst the slain to be able to fight for Odin in the final battle. These warriors would prepare and live in Walhalla, awaiting Ragnarok. The other warriors went to Freya’s Folkvangr. Valkyries were armed and wore armor, but they were not female warriors. Instead they surveyed the battle and then picked half of the slain men to go to Walhalla. These original Valkyries were old hags, ogresses and ugly women. And when there was no battle they served the fallen warriors in Walhalla as cupbearers.

Norns

These were the Norse version of the Greek fates, except there were many more Norns than just three. The good fairies and Malificent of the fairytale of Sleeping Beauty are some of the modern remaining leftover over beliefs in Norns. They could decide about the different fates for the whole course of a newborn's life (male and female).

Later Valkyries

In time Valkyries became beautiful maidens heroes could fall in love with. Who can blame the Norse for wanting to be served by beautiful maidens in Walhalla, instead of old hags, huh? Aside from maidenhood and beauty, they also gained certain Nornlike powers. Instead of just deciding which afterlife the slain of a battlefield could go to, the Valkyries gained the actual power to decide who would live and and who would die in war and battles, and therefore had the ultimate decision over which side would win a battle or war. Normally they would do this in concordance with Odin's will - they knew which side Odin favored. Because of this, battles would end up being dedicated to the Valkyrie believed to supervise the battle for Odin.

Some extra special powers: One Valkyrie had resurrection powers (Hildr), which resulted in an everlasting battle where the slain were revived every night so the battle would commence in the morning (for both sides of the battle were loved by Hildr). And another was more of a trickster who used potions to make a hero forget certain events and offer him advice to start a war (Gondul).

Summary of Valkyrie aspects

They are "choosers of the slain"

serve as cupbearers on their time "off"

beautiful young women

battles/fights get dedicated to them, though they do not actively participate

serve a person or order with Odin hints

believed to know a god's will when it comes to who's supposed to die, live, win or lose and make it come to pass with supernatural powers

Valkyrie aspects featured in Arya's FM arc

From the start of Arya's interaction with Jaqen we find hints of him either testing or pushing Arya to have her serve as a 'cupbearer' as well as empower her as a 'chooser of the slain'

One of the men in irons was talking to her. Warily, Arya approached the wagon, one hand on Needle's hilt.

The prisoner lifted an empty tankard, his chains rattling. "A man could use another taste of beer. A man has a thirst, wearing these heavy bracelets."

...

"A man must be ashamed of the company he keeps, Arry," the handsome one said. "This man has the honor to be Jaqen H'ghar, once of the Free City of Lorath. Would that he were home. This man's ill-bred companions in captivity are named Rorge"—he waved his tankard at the noseless man—"and Biter." Biter hissed at her again, displaying a mouthful of yellowed teeth filed into points. "A man must have some name, is that not so? Biter cannot speak and Biter cannot write, yet his teeth are very sharp, so a man calls him Biter and he smiles. Are you charmed?"Arya backed away from the wagon. "No." They can't hurt me, she told herself, they're all chained up.He turned his tankard upside down. "A man must weep." (aCoK, Arya II)

Jaqen's first interaction is to ask Arya for beer, lifting his tankard. If she does that, she acts symbolically as his "cupbearer". Doing this for a prisoner/criminal is a hint he's testing her for empathy. He tries to persuade her to overlook Rorge's and Biter's behaviour, but she steps back and does not give him a drink.

The next time he textually adresses her (aside from thanking her for the treat of a spoon of rabbit) he asks her to free him and whether it is war

Before they could hoot her down again, the sound came shuddering through the night—only it was no wolf this time, it was Kurz blowing his hunting horn, sounding danger. In a heartbeat, all of them were pulling on clothes and snatching for whatever weapons they owned. Arya ran for the gate as the horn sounded again. As she dashed past the barn, Biter threw himself furiously against his chains, and Jaqen H'ghar called out from the back of their wagon. "Boy! Sweet boy! Is it war, red war? Boy, free us. A man can fight. Boy!" She ignored him and plunged on. By then she could hear horses and shouts beyond the wall. (aCoK, Arya IV)

So, the two first times Jaqen adresses Arya it's to have a drink, or to fight. Hmmm.... She frees them when all is lost and they must run, and the threesome is in danger of being burned alive.

QuoteJaqen saw her, but it was too hard to breathe, let alone talk. She threw the axe into the wagon. Rorge caught it and lifted it over his head, rivers of sooty sweat pouring down his noseless face. Arya was running, coughing. She heard the steel crash through the old wood, and again, again. An instant later came a crack as loud as thunder, and the bottom of the wagon came ripping loose in an explosion of splinters. (aCoK, Arya IV)

At Harrenhal she works under Weese, and later under Pinkeye, and part of her job is "serving" drinks.

QuoteWeese used Arya to run messages, draw water, and fetch food, and sometimes to serve at table in the Barracks Hall above the armory, where the men-at-arms took their meals. (aCoK, Arya VII)

Jaqen, Rorge and Biter join Amory's forces, while separately Arya, Gendry and Hot Pie are caught by the Mountain's men and marched to Harrenhal. During the march Arya starts to pray her list, which she recites nightly. We can regard her list/prayer as her marking people for death. She starts to become a "chooser of the slain". She's already a while in Harrenhal when Ser Amory returns and Arya discovers the three have joined Ser Amory. Rorge and Biter do not see her, Jaqen does, although he pretends he didn't.

I should have let the fire have them. Gendry said to, I should have listened. If she hadn't thrown them that axe they'd all be dead. For a moment she was afraid, but they rode past her without a flicker of interest. Only Jaqen H'ghar so much as glanced in her direction, and his eyes passed right over her. He does not know me, she thought.

She spent the rest of that day scrubbing steps inside the Wailing Tower. By evenfall her hands were raw and bleeding and her arms so sore they trembled when she lugged the pail back to the cellar. Too tired even for food, Arya begged Weese's pardons and crawled into her straw to sleep. "Weese," she yawned. "Dunsen, Chiswyck, Polliver, Raff the Sweetling. The Tickler and the Hound. Ser Gregor, Ser Amory, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, King Joffrey, Queen Cersei." She thought she might add three more names to her prayer, but she was too tired to decide tonight. (aCoK, Arya VII)

Remember that FM are good in spying. It is not farfetched for Jaqen to have investigated Arya, and overhear her prayer. But very remarkable about her prayer is that she does not offer a sacrifice or price for it. That same night Jaqen wakes her.

QuoteJaqen H'ghar took his hand away. The cellar was black as pitch and she could not see his face, even inches away. She could smell him, though; his skin smelled clean and soapy, and he had scented his hair. "A boy becomes a girl," he murmured."I was always a girl. I didn't think you saw me.""A man sees. A man knows."She remembered that she hated him. "You scared me. You're one of them now, I should have let you burn. What are you doing here? Go away or I'll yell for Weese.""A man pays his debts. A man owes three.""Three?""The Red God has his due, sweet girl, and only death may pay for life. This girl took three that were his. This girl must give three in their places. Speak the names, and a man will do the rest."He wants to help me, Arya realized with a rush of hope that made her dizzy. "Take me to Riverrun, it's not far, if we stole some horses we could—"He laid a finger on her lips. "Three lives you shall have of me. No more, no less. Three and we are done. So a girl must ponder." He kissed her hair softly. "But not too long." (aCoK, Arya VII) The voice startled her. She leapt to her feet and drew her wooden sword. Jaqen H'ghar stood so still in the darkness that he seemed one of the trees. "A man comes to hear a name. One and two and then comes three. A man would have done."Arya lowered the splintery point toward the ground. "How did you know I was here?""A man sees. A man hears. A man knows." ... "Some men have many names. Weasel. Arry. Arya."She backed away from him, until she was pressed against the heart tree. "Did Gendry tell?""A man knows," he said again. "My lady of Stark." (aCoK, Arya IX)

Jaqen could not have known her name directly from Gendry. But he could have overheard her shout "Winterfell" just as Hot Pie did during the battle at the holdfast at the Gods Eye, or overheard the conversation where Gendry warns her how he covered for her when Hot Pie wondered about her shouting that, or oeverheard Hot Pie asking Gendry directly about it. There are three occasion where Jaqen could have heard and seen Arya's tie to Winterfell. Her name Arry and the name Winterfell do not make it hard for him to deduce she's Arya Stark of Winterfell.

But we can already conclude that Jaqen seems very interested in Arya in particular, in a manner he is not interested at all in others. He showed that interest on KR already, before the Gold Cloaks arrived (who ironically enough for once instantly reocgnized her as a girl). So, he offered her the three names. This is actually quite a lot. Supposedly the reasoning is that she saved 3 lives, and so 3 must die for balance. But the sole price for 3 names was throwing an axe into the cage. They basically still had to save themselves. She can choose any 3 names she wants, including a queen regent and a king. Quite a bargain isn't it? She isn't even required to go to the HoBaW for him to kill even one of those of names. In theory she could have said, "Tywin Lannister, Queen Cersei, King Joffrey." She has some high profile targets on her list, and Jaqen was willing to do them. She gives the name Chyswick and Weese, and then realizes she should make the last one count. Vargo Hoat brings in the Northern prisoners, Gendry doesn't want to help, she blows off steam in the godswood with her stick and Jaqen tells her he wants a third name.

QuoteHe looked down at her pitilessly. "Three lives were snatched from a god. Three lives must be repaid. The gods are not mocked." His voice was silk and steel."I never mocked." She thought for a moment. "The name . . . can I name anyone? And you'll kill him?"Jaqen H'ghar inclined his head. "A man has said.""Anyone?" she repeated. "A man, a woman, a little baby, or Lord Tywin, or the High Septon, or your father?""A man's sire is long dead, but did he live, and did you know his name, he would die at your command.""Swear it," Arya said. "Swear it by the gods.""By all the gods of sea and air, and even him of fire, I swear it." He placed a hand in the mouth of the weirwood. "By the seven new gods and the old gods beyond count, I swear it."He has sworn. "Even if I named the king . . .""Speak the name, and death will come. On the morrow, at the turn of the moon, a year from this day, it will come. A man does not fly like a bird, but one foot moves and then another and one day a man is there, and a king dies." He knelt beside her, so they were face-to-face. "A girl whispers if she fears to speak aloud. Whisper it now. Is it Joffrey?"Arya put her lips to his ear. "It's Jaqen H'ghar."Even in the burning barn, with walls of flame towering all around and him in chains, he had not seemed so distraught as he did now. "A girl . . . she makes a jest."

At first read it seems Jaqen simply wants to be done with the 3 name business and continue on his way to do his "real" duty. However, this is actually a deception on Jaqen's part. He in fact knows the Bloody Mummers intend to turn their cloak and massacre Ser Amory's men (and he is one of Ser Amory's men) and that the Wolf banners will fly on Harrenhal by the next day. It is war. A battle there will be. He hints that he knows this when he says, "A man hears the whisper of sand in a glass." But keeps this information hidden from Arya until the fights and massacres break out in the yard, after the weasel soup action. So, time is of the essence. If she wants to go with him to Braavos, it must be now, for perhaps the next day Robb's bannermen may recognize her. And if she does not want to come with him, she will be safe, but he has no wish to be targeted by the Bloody Mummers, or Robb's bannermen. Hence he must have the 3rd name now to complete his deal with her. Note how he sounds like salivating almost over her third name possibly being Joffrey. But she gives his name instead. She extorts Jaqen into helping her by giving him his name. Yes, he swore by all the gods, including for him the Many Faced God. But if he regards her as some type of "chooser of the slain" his distress at her giving him his own name would indeed be even more upsetting. This would mark him for death in the eye of the gods (and she does this in the godswood). He says he will not sleep until she unsays his name.

Jaqen's smile came and went. "A girl might . . . name another name then, if a friend did help?""A girl might," she said. "If a friend did help."The knife vanished. "Come.""Now?" She had never thought he would act so quickly."A man hears the whisper of sand in a glass. A man will not sleep until a girl unsays a certain name. Now, evil child." 

So, he orders her to make broth, and later appears with Biter and Rorge to fetch the broth. Jaqen makes a point of it to have her present as a witness, and dedicates the weasel soup action to her, by smearing his bloodied sword on her shirt. And while he dedicates it to her, he does not want her participate in the fight.

Biter licked the grease and honey off his fingers as Jaqen H'ghar donned a pair of heavy padded mitts. He gave a second pair to Arya. "A weasel will help." 

...

Inside the door a winding stair led down to the dungeons. Rorge led the way, with Jaqen and Arya bringing up the rear. "A girl will stay out of the way," he told her.

...

"Fuck, we need bowls, cups, spoons—

""No you don't." Rorge heaved the scalding hot broth across the table, full in their faces. Jaqen H'ghar did the same. Biter threw his kettles too, swinging them underarm so they spun across the dungeon, raining soup. One caught the captain in the temple as he tried to rise. He went down like a sack of sand and lay still. The rest were screaming in agony, praying, or trying to crawl off.

Arya pressed back against the wall as Rorge began to cut throats. Biter preferred to grab the men behind the head and under the chin and crack their necks with a single twist of his huge pale hands. Only one of the guards managed to get a blade out. Jaqen danced away from his slash, drew his own sword, drove the man back into a corner with a flurry of blows, and killed him with a thrust to the heart. The Lorathi brought the blade to Arya still red with heart's blood and wiped it clean on the front of her shift. "A girl should be bloody too. This is her work."

...

"This of the soup, that was clever," the man Glover was saying. "I did not expect that. Was it Lord Hoat's idea?"

...

"This man has the honor to be Jaqen H'ghar, once of the Free City of Lorath. This man's discourteous companions are named Rorge and Biter. A lord will know which is Biter." He waved a hand toward Arya. 

"And here—"

"I'm Weasel," she blurted, before he could tell who she really was. She did not want her name said here, where Rorge might hear, and Biter, and all these others she did not know.

She saw Glover dismiss her. "Very well," he said. "Let's make an end to this bloody business."When they climbed back up the winding stair, they found the door guards lying in pools of their own blood. Northmen were running across the ward. Arya heard shouts. The door of Barracks Hall burst open and a wounded man staggered out screaming. Three others ran after him and silenced him with spear and sword. There was fighting around the gatehouse as well. Rorge and Biter rushed off with Glover, but Jaqen H'ghar knelt beside Arya. "A girl does not understand?"

"Yes I do," she said, though she didn't, not truly.

The Lorathi must have seen it on her face. "A goat has no loyalty. Soon a wolf banner is raised here, I think. But first a man would hear a certain name unsaid."

She has served, she has chosen the slain, she chose a side in a battle and forced him to help fight for her chosen side. With the battle over, Jaqen has her unname him, changes his face, offers her to go with him to teach it, but when she refuses he gives her the coin, and teaches her the words, before he departs.

Not only Jaqen dedicates the Harrenhal switch to Arya. Shagwell (a singer/poet) does too, and many other people, including servants. Of course, Vargo Hoat would have switched sides anyway, but people regard her as the one who decided the battle for the Mummers and the Northerners.

All morning she watched the Bloody Mummers strip the dead of their valuables and drag the corpses to the Flowstone Yard, where a pyre was laid to dispose of them. Shagwell the Fool hacked the heads off two dead knights and pranced about the castle swinging them by the hair and making them talk. "What did you die of?" one head asked. "Hot weasel soup," replied the second.

Arya was set to mopping up dried blood. No one said a word to her beyond the usual, but every so often she would notice people looking at her strangely. Robett Glover and the other men they'd freed must have talked about what had happened down in the dungeon, and then Shagwell and his stupid talking heads started in about the weasel soup. ...

Vargo Hoat came forward. "My lord, Harrenhal ith yourth."The lord gave answer, but too softly for Arya to hear. Robett Glover and Ser Aenys Frey, freshly bathed and clad in clean new doublets and cloaks, came up to join them. After some brief talk, Ser Aenys led them over to Rorge and Biter. Arya was surprised to see them still here; somehow she would have expected them to vanish when Jaqen did. Arya heard the harsh sound of Rorge's voice, but not what he was saying. Then Shagwell pounced on her, dragging her out across the yard. "My lord, my lord," he sang, tugging at her wrist, "here's the weasel who made the soup!" ...

"My squire could take a lesson from you, it would seem. Frequent leechings are the secret of a long life. A man must purge himself of bad blood. You will do, I think. For so long as I remain at Harrenhal, Nan, you shall be my cupbearer, and serve me at table and in chambers."

And finally, Lord Bolton makes her his official cupbearer. The serving of drink reoccurs several times more after this, often combined with death.

With the men in the crow cages and Stoney Sept, when Lem and Gendry help her up, before Anguy puts them out of their mysery with his arrows.

With the man of Pinkmaiden, before Sandor gives him the gift of mercy and puts the dagger through his heart

With Sandor, as he begs her for the gift of mercy. She gives him the water, but refuses to give him the gift of mercy, possibly thereby choosing him to live on as the gravedigger on the Quiet Isle.

With the bravo at the pool in the HoBaW when she enters for the first time. She sees him at the pool, reaching. Takes the cup and fills it with the poisoned water and gives it to him. Thereby personally giving him the gift of mercy, completely unaware of it. As her first act within the HoBaW with the waif and KM nearby, watching her no doubt, this must speak volumes to their minds. She could have drunk from the cup herself or inspect the bravo first and cry for help instead. But her first act was to give him the gift of mercy.

Inside the HoBaW she serves as a cupbearer to the FM during their meetings.

The bars were too narrow to pass a cup through, but Harwin and Gendry offered her a leg up. She planted a foot in Harwin's cupped hands, vaulted onto Gendry's shoulders, and grabbed the bars on top of the cage. The fat man turned his face up and pressed his cheek to the iron, and Arya poured the water over him. He sucked at it eagerly and let it run down over his head and cheeks and hands, and then he licked the dampness off the bars. He would have licked Arya's fingers if she hadn't snatched them back. By the time she served the other two the same, a crowd had gathered to watch her. "The Mad Huntsman will hear of this," a man threatened. "He won't like it. No, he won't."

"He'll like this even less, then." Anguy strung his longbow, slid an arrow from his quiver, nocked, drew, loosed. The fat man shuddered as the shaft drove up between his chins, but the cage would not let him fall. Two more arrows ended the other two northmen. The only sound in the market square was the splash of falling water and the buzzing of flies.

Valar morghulis, Arya thought. (aSoS, Arya V)

...

They had passed a small pond a short ways back. Sandor gave Arya his helm and told her to fill it, so she trudged back to the water's edge. Mud squished over the toe of her boots. She used the dog's head as a pail. Water ran out through the eyeholes, but the bottom of the helm still held a lot.

When she came back, the archer turned his face up and she poured the water into his mouth. He gulped it down as fast as she could pour, and what he couldn't gulp ran down his cheeks into the brown blood that crusted his whiskers, until pale pink tears dangled from his beard. When the water was gone he clutched the helm and licked the steel. "Good," he said. "I wish it was wine, though. I wanted wine."

"Me too." The Hound eased his dagger into the man's chest almost tenderly, the weight of his body driving the point through his surcoat, ringmail, and the quilting beneath. As he slid the blade back out and wiped it on the dead man, he looked at Arya. "That's where the heart is, girl. That's how you kill a man." (aSoS, Arya XII)

...

Long before noon, Sandor Clegane was reeling. There were hours of daylight still remaining when he called a halt. "I need to rest," was all he said. This time when he dismounted he did fall. Instead of trying to get back up he crawled weakly under a tree, and leaned up against the trunk. "Bloody hell," he cursed. "Bloody hell." When he saw Arya staring at him, he said, "I'd skin you alive for a cup of wine, girl.”

She brought him water instead. He drank a little of it, complained that it tasted of mud, and slid into a noisy fevered sleep. When she touched him, his skin was burning up. Arya sniffed at his bandages the way Maester Luwin had done sometimes when treating her cut or scrape. His face had bled the worst, but it was the wound on his thigh that smelled funny to her. (aSoS, Arya XIII)

...

In the center of the temple she found the water she had heard; a pool ten feet across, black as ink and lit by dim red candles. Beside it sat a young man in a silvery cloak, weeping softly. She watched him dip a hand in the water, sending scarlet ripples racing across the pool. When he drew his fingers back he sucked them, one by one. He must be thirsty. There were stone cups along the rim of the pool. Arya filled one and brought it to him, so he could drink. The young man stared at her for a long moment when she offered it to him. "Valar morghulis," he said."Valar dohaeris," she replied. (aFfC, Arya I)

...

One time the fat fellow and the squinter came together. Umma sent Arya to pour for them. "When you are not pouring, you must stand as still as if you had been carved of stone," the kindly man told her. "Can you do that?"

"Yes." Before you can learn to move you must learn to be still, Syrio Forel had taught her long ago at King's Landing, and she had. She had served as Roose Bolton's cupbearer at Harrenhal, and he would flay you if you spilled his wine.

"Good," the kindly man said. "It would be best if you were blind and deaf as well. You may hear things, but you must let them pass in one ear and out the other. Do not listen." (aFfC, Arya II) 

Note: when she gives the bravo the sweetwater, the door was opened for her, but there was no one there to welcome her or guide her. She's a 10 year old child wandering into a hall with a pool of poisoned water. It seems strange and especially unsafe that they would let a child wander around into such a dangerous place, towards a pool that looks like water to the uninformed - a pool with stone cups along the rim of the pool to lavish thirst. Arya could have drunken from a cup herself. Or she could have inspected the bravo first and cried for help for his wounds. But she did exactly what the man was there for - the gift of mercy in a cup of sweetsleep poison - without even knowing it. Immediately after this the waif and the kindly man show up and approach her. They must have been watching her.  She chooses for Dareon to die. While initially it seems to Arya that she's punished for this by being made blind, in fact we know this is not punishment, but speeding up her training. In a way she's rewarded for the act.

"Just so," said the kindly man. "And the third thing?"

This time she did not hesitate. "Dareon is dead. The black singer who was sleeping at the Happy Port. He was really a deserter from the Night's Watch. Someone slit his throat and pushed him into a canal, but they kept his boots."

"Good boots are hard to find."

...

He turned to the waif. "My throat is dry. Do me a kindness and bring a cup of wine for me and warm milk for our friend Arya, who has returned to us so unexpectedly."

On her way across the city Arya had wondered what the kindly man would say when she told him about Dareon. Maybe he would be angry with her, or maybe he would be pleased that she had given the singer the gift of the Many-Faced God. She had played this talk out in her head half a hundred times, like a mummer in a show. But she had never thought warm milk.When the milk came, Arya drank it down. It smelled a little burnt and had a bitter aftertaste. "Go to bed now, child," the kindly man said. "On the morrow you must serve."(aFfC, Cat of the Canals)

Summary of Valkyrie elements in Arya's FM

"chooser of the slain"

cupbearer

the battle for Harrenhal gets dedicated to her

female

she is not supposed to participate in fights

FM and Valkyries

So,on the one hand we have Arya showing Valkyrie features in her arc, but this could either be symbolically done by GRRM, or it may be features the FM are looking for. Long before Harrenhal, before Arya has a list to mark people who should die in her opinion, Jaqen asks her to give him a drink and to free him referring to war, in other words he's pushing for the "cupbearer" and "battle" aspects then. And at the HoBaW, her first act is to be the bravo's cupbearer, which prompts the kindly man to approach her in his skull-face, while her "choice to slay" Dareon moves her training up. So, the "cupbearer" + "chooser of the slain" elements is what they test for and respond to. So the FM are definitely looking for those elements in a profile.

The cupbearing element serves a sense of inner humility as well as empathy. It requires a high deal of empathy and humility to give a dangerous criminal in a cage a drink. You won't do this, unless you recognize at heart that basically we are all humans. On the other hand it requires a marked sense of justice as well as confidence in it to put a list of names together marked for death: murderers, rapists, thieves, abusers, liars, deserters, and the truly monstrous end up there. Only two of them have hurt her directly (Weese, Polliver), three hurt her father, some her friends, but there are also those who hurt strangers to her (the Mountain, the Tyckler, Chyswick, Dareon). That Arya's list goes beyond personal harm shows Arya's list is less about personal revenge, and more about justice. So, the FM are looking for an empathic person with a marked sense of justice, and a rather egalitarian sentiment.

[special note: personally I'm not a proponent of the death penalty, on the contrary, and I am glad to be living in a country and of a union where the death penalty has long been scrapped out of constitution]

The gift of mercy

These are not the characteristics we tend to associate with hired assassins, hired to execute the job. Of course, nobody expected the Faceless Men to engage in assisted suicide either. More, the number of people they help with assisted suicide is far greater than the number of people they are hired to assassinate. And it is actually their first cause of origin.

"The tale of our beginnings. If you would be one of us, you had best know who we are and how we came to be. Men may whisper of the Faceless Men of Braavos, but we are older than the Secret City. Before the Titan rose, before the Unmasking of Uthero, before the Founding, we were. We have flowered in Braavos amongst these northern fogs, but we first took root in Valyria, amongst the wretched slaves who toiled in the deep mines beneath the Fourteen Flames that lit the Freehold's nights of old. Most mines are dank and chilly places, cut from cold dead stone, but the Fourteen Flames were living mountains with veins of molten rock and hearts of fire. So the mines of old Valyria were always hot, and they grew hotter as the shafts were driven deeper, ever deeper. The slaves toiled in an oven. The rocks around them were too hot to touch. The air stank of brimstone and would sear their lungs as they breathed it. The soles of their feet would burn and blister, even through the thickest sandals. Sometimes, when they broke through a wall in search of gold, they would find steam instead, or boiling water, or molten rock. Certain shafts were cut so low that the slaves could not stand upright, but had to crawl or bend. And there were wyrms in that red darkness too."

...

"Didn't the slaves rise up and fight?"

"Some did," he said. "Revolts were common in the mines, but few accomplished much. The dragonlords of the old Freehold were strong in sorcery, and lesser men defied them at their peril. The first Faceless Man was one who did."

"Who was he?" Arya blurted, before she stopped to think.

"No one," he answered. "Some say he was a slave himself. Others insist he was a freeholder's son, born of noble stock. Some will even tell you he was an overseer who took pity on his charges. The truth is, no one knows. Whoever he was, he moved amongst the slaves and would hear them at their prayers. Men of a hundred different nations labored in the mines, and each prayed to his own god in his own tongue, yet all were praying for the same thing. It was release they asked for, an end to pain. A small thing, and simple. Yet their gods made no answer, and their suffering went on. Are their gods all deaf? he wondered . . . until a realization came upon him, one night in the red darkness."All gods have their instruments, men and women who serve them and help to work their will on earth. The slaves were not crying out to a hundred different gods, as it seemed, but to one god with a hundred different faces . . . and he was that god's instrument. That very night he chose the most wretched of the slaves, the one who had prayed most earnestly for release, and freed him from his bondage. The first gift had been given."Arya drew back from him. "He killed the slave?" That did not sound right. "He should have killed the masters!"

"He would bring the gift to them as well . . . but that is a tale for another day, one best shared with no one."(aFfC, Arya II)

The gift of mercy was the origin of the FM. It requires empathy, humanism and a mind free from religious dogma for a person to come to such a conclusion and help people find freedom from agony and pain in death. This was someone with the ability to freely move amongst the slaves, witness their ordeal, hear their prayers, day and night. It was someone who seemed to have no special belief in one of the hundred gods prayed to, but instead recognized that all those gods were actually the one and the same - death. It sounds like an agnostic, who came to regard death as a god, and death is egalitarian, since everybody dies - rich, poor, sick, healthy, happy, miserable, handsome, ugly, old, young, the worst, the best, men and women.

The cupbearing element is heavily associated with the gift of mercy, bothin Arya's arc as well as the FM's practice of assisted suicide. Poison is their main weapon - both for assassination as assisted suicide - and poison is said to be "a woman's weapon". This is why I think the First was not a "he", but a "she". This was a free woman, most likely learned and of highborn religious liberal upbringing who served in the mines as a nurse or medical assistant, with knowledge on poisons, pain relief and daily confronted with the inability to save the afflicted, while overhearing the prayers for death. Such a person would far more likely come to the conclusions the First made - to become the instrument that gives the gift of mercy. In religion "an angel of death" is often male, but it is often the title given to female, serial killing nurses.

Targets of assassination

I killed Cat when I killed that singer. The kindly man had told her that they would have taken her eyes from her anyway, to help her to learn to use her other senses, but not for half a year. Blind acolytes were common in the House of Black and White, but few as young as she. The girl was not sorry, though. Dareon had been a deserter from the Night's Watch; he had deserved to die.

"And are you a god, to decide who should live and who should die?" he asked her. "We give the gift to those marked by Him of Many Faces, after prayers and sacrifice. So has it always been, from the beginning. I have told you of the founding of our order, of how the first of us answered the prayers of slaves who wished for death. The gift was given only to those who yearned for it, in the beginning … but one day, the first of us heard a slave praying not for his own death but for his master's. So fervently did he desire this that he offered all he had, that his prayer might be answered. And it seemed to our first brother that this sacrifice would be pleasing to Him of Many Faces, so that night he granted the prayer. Then he went to the slave and said, 'You offered all you had for this man's death, but slaves have nothing but their lives. That is what the god desires of you. For the rest of your days on earth, you will serve him.' And from that moment, we were two." His hand closed around her arm, gently but firmly. "All men must die. We are but death's instruments, not death himself. When you slew the singer, you took god's powers on yourself. We kill men, but we do not presume to judge them. Do you understand?" (aDwD, Blind Beth)

This paragraph is what often leads to people concluding that FM assassinate anyone for the right price, regardless of the target's morality, innocense and crimes. But that conclusion does not follow the story of the First's assassination of the slave master.

Let us being by examining the story of the First:

A slave prayed for a slave master's death, some time after the beginning where only those who yearned for the gift of mercy were killed, and offered a sacrifice (all he had).

The First thought this prayer and sacrifice would be pleasing to the god of death

Hence, the First considered the slave master marked by death and killed the slave master.

Did the First ever hear the Many Faced God whisper "that one", or saw it in a vision of flames? No. The First "thought it would please the god". The First and the FM regard themselves as the god's instruments who know what would please the god of death and simultaneously what would not please the god. So, in fact, the First and the FM are the ones who "decide" who dies and who lives.

But how does that mesh with "not judging them"? This is in reference to Arya having said to the kindly man that Dareon "deserved" to die. The kindly man is telling Arya that the mark of death comes from an intuition that would please the god of death, rather than using human laws or rationale of "deserving" death. The order is assumed to have an intuitive link with the god. And that is exactly what a Valkyrie is supposed to be. A Valkyrie doesn't go to a battle with a death-list handed by Odin. They just "know". The most famous Valkyrie is Brynhilde of the Nibelungenlied (the legends and stories on which Wagner based his 3-part opera). Brynhilde had agreed to side with a mortal man at every one of his battles. However, with one battle, she knew Odin wanted the other side to win, and she still made that man win the battle, going against Odin's wish. Odin punished her by making her a mortal woman, a shieldmaiden. She was a "fallen" Valkyrie.

So, the kindly man's message is not "we assassinate anyone for the right price", but "we assassinate those we know the god wants to die by assassination." And what he's warning against is the hubris of overriding the god's will they serve, but not necessarily saying she was wrong in regarding Dareon as being marked for death. After all, they sped up her training by at least half a year for Dareon's murder, which basically means in choice and actions at least, the kindly man sanctions Arya's choice. The blindness also serves as a type of "sacrifice", in exchange for the murder, even though the sacrifice was only temporarily and gained her more awareness than she had before.

With the insurance man she's trying to convince herself with all sorts of silly reasons he deserves to die. The KM does not want her to use such reasoning. And yet he gives her enough background info on the man - that he cons hard working captains, who put their live savings in their cargo and ship, out of their money and puts widows and their children out on the street to beg by refusing to pay up when the captain and ship are lost at sea. Once, she knows this, she has no further need to justify her action and does it.

Marked for death

"Death is not the worst thing," the kindly man replied. "It is His gift to us, an end to want and pain. On the day that we are born the Many-Faced God sends each of us a dark angel to walk through life beside us. When our sins and our sufferings grow too great to be borne, the angel takes us by the hand to lead us to the nightlands, where the stars burn ever bright. Those who come to drink from the black cup are looking for their angels. If they are afraid, the candles soothe them. When you smell our candles burning, what does it make you think of, my child?" (aFfC, Arya II)

The kindly man ends this paragraph by mentioning those actively seeking their dark angel by drinking the black cup - out of guilt or suffering. But note that "sins" are a part of the beliefs of the FM's faith. The sufferer will pray for the gift of mercy for himself. The great sinner not necessarily so, and yet the mark of death may still be put on him, and then he/she has to die by the hand of an FM as an instrument of the god of death.

Who have followers of the Many Faced God assassinated? (regardless of contract)

a slave master

Chyswick: a gang rapist

Weese: an abuser and liar

Balon: (based on GoHH's dream), a reaver

Pate: a thief and betrayer of his master for coin to someone who may have just as well had every intention to kill Marwyn

Dareon: a deserter, betrayer of friends and leaving them to die for all he cared, liar and ogling a 14 year old

a ship/cargo insurance man: cons captains and ship owners out of their money, and when they die along with their shipwreck, the widow and children end up on the street begging

the waif's stepmother: who poisoned the waif when she was a young girl to remove her as heir

possibly the Ugly Girl's father: a child beater

Not one of them can be called a "good" person. Even if people are grey, there's pearl-grey and there's anthracite. Pate is the lightest grey of them all, and that's because he's still so young and only just started on a path of darkening grey. Not one of these characters is a light pearly grey character, none.

Him of Many Faces and many names

"Him of Many Faces.""And many names," the kindly man had said. "In Qohor he is the Black Goat, in Yi Ti the Lion of Night, in Westeros the Stranger. All men must bow to him in the end, no matter if they worship the Seven or the Lord of Light, the Moon Mother or the Drowned God or the Great Shepherd. All mankind belongs to him . . . else somewhere in the world would be a folk who lived forever. Do you know of any folk who live forever?""No," she would answer. "All men must die." (aFfC, Cat of the Canals)

The title of the god of death can actually be seen as a reference to Odin. Odin has 170 names/styles and at least 50 disguises, appearing as a young man, an old man, a blind man, a beggar, a king, animals, on and on it goes. So, Odin is a god of Many Faces and many names, wearing disguises and masks. On top of that he is a god of death, resurrection, sacrifice.

Hence, a girl with Valkyrie aspects would be a servant of the god of Many Faces, and it would be very fitting that members of the order can change their appearance so drastically as the FM, and have the knowledge how to accomplish this.

Volunteer

There is a difference between the First FM and the Second. The First was a volunteer. The Second became FM because he offered all he had to have his prayer answered, and the First demanded he'd join her. The waif is not an assassin, but she is not strictly speaking a volunteer, even if becoming one of the guild was to her benefit. We do not know how the other acolytes were recruited, but we do know for certain that Arya is volunteering.

"Die?" she said, confused. What did he mean? "But I unsaid the name. You don't need to die now."

"I do. My time is done." Jaqen passed a hand down his face from forehead to chin, and where it went he changed. His cheeks grew fuller, his eyes closer; his nose hooked, a scar appeared on his right cheek where no scar had been before. And when he shook his head, his long straight hair, half red and half white, dissolved away to reveal a cap of tight black curls.

Arya's mouth hung open. "Who are you?" she whispered, too astonished to be afraid. "How did you do that? Was it hard?"

He grinned, revealing a shiny gold tooth. "No harder than taking a new name, if you know the way.""Show me," she blurted. "I want to do it too."

"Show me," she blurted. "I want to do it too."

"If you would learn, you must come with me."

Arya grew hesitant. "Where?"

"Far and away, across the narrow sea."

"I can't. I have to go home. To Winterfell."

"Then we must part," he said, "for I have duties too." He lifted her hand and pressed a small coin into her palm. "Here."

"What is it?"

"A coin of great value."Arya bit it. It was so hard it could only be iron. "Is it worth enough to buy a horse?"

"It is not meant for the buying of horses."

"Then what good is it?"

"As well ask what good is life, what good is death? If the day comes when you would find me again, give that coin to any man from Braavos, and say these words to him—valar morghulis."

"Valar morghulis," Arya repeated. It wasn't hard. Her fingers closed tight over the coin. Across the yard, she could hear men dying. "Please don't go, Jaqen."

"Jaqen is as dead as Arry," he said sadly, "and I have promises to keep. Valar morghulis, Arya Stark. Say it again." (aCoK, Arya IX)

...

"You know that you may leave this place. You are not one of us, not yet. You may go home anytime you wish."

"You told me that if I left, I couldn't come back."

"Just so."

Those words made her sad. Syrio used to say that too, Arya remembered. He said it all the time. Syrio Forel had taught her needlework and died for her. "I don't want to leave."

"Then stay . . . but remember, the House of Black and White is not a home for orphans. All men must serve beneath this roof. Valar dohaeris is how we say it here. Remain if you will, but know that we shall require your obedience. At all times and in all things. If you cannot obey, you must depart."

...

"Why would you wish to fight? Are you some bravo, strutting through the alleys, spoiling for blood?" He sighed. "Before you drink from the cold cup, you must offer up all you are to Him of Many Faces. Your body. Your soul. Yourself. If you cannot bring yourself to do that, you must leave this place."

...

..."You believe this is the only place for you." It was as if he'd heard her thoughts. "You are wrong in that. You would find softer service in the household of some merchant. Or would you sooner be a courtesan, and have songs sung of your beauty? Speak the word, and we will send you to the Black Pearl or the Daughter of the Dusk. You will sleep on rose petals and wear silken skirts that rustle when you walk, and great lords will beggar themselves for your maiden's blood. Or if it is marriage and children you desire, tell me, and we shall find a husband for you. Some honest apprentice boy, a rich old man, a seafarer, whatever you desire."

She wanted none of that. Wordless, she shook her head.

"Is it Westeros you dream of, child? Luco Prestayn's Lady Bright leaves upon the morrow, for Gulltown, Duskendale, King's Landing, and Tyrosh. Shall we find you passage on her?"

"I only just came from Westeros." Sometimes it seemed a thousand years since she had fled King's Landing, and sometimes it seemed like only yesterday, but she knew she could not go back. "I'll go if you don't want me, but I won't go there."

"My wants do not matter," said the kindly man. "It may be that the Many-Faced God has led you here to be His instrument, but when I look at you I see a child . . . and worse, a girl child. Many have served Him of Many Faces through the centuries, but only a few of His servants have been women. Women bring life into the world. We bring the gift of death. No one can do both." (aFfC, Arya II)

...

No, she thought. "Yes," she said."You lie. And that is why you must now walk in darkness until you see the way. Unless you wish to leave us. You need only ask, and you may have your eyes back."No, she thought. "No," she said. (aDwD, The Blind GIrl)

...

They hung upon the walls, before her and behind her, high and low, everywhere she looked, everywhere she turned. She saw old faces and young faces, pale faces and dark faces, smooth faces and wrinkled faces, freckled faces and scarred faces, handsome faces and homely faces, men and women, boys and girls, even babes, smiling faces, frowning faces, faces full of greed and rage and lust, bald faces and faces bristling with hair. Masks, she told herself, it's only masks, but even as she thought the thought, she knew it wasn't so. They were skins. "Do they frighten you, child?" asked the kindly man. "It is not too late for you to leave us. Is this truly what you want?" Arya bit her lip. She did not know what she wanted. If I leave, where will I go? She had washed and stripped a hundred corpses, dead things did not frighten her. They carry them down here and slice their faces off, so what? She was the night wolf, no scraps of skin could frighten her. Leather hoods, that's all they are, they cannot hurt me. "Do it," she blurted out. (aDwD, The Ugly Little Girl)

She offers no sacrifice in her prayer list

She gets 3 names for throwing an axe into a burning cage. These names could have been Tywin + Cersei + Joffrey and Jaqen would hae done them

Jaqen gives her a coin and the password, and offers to take her with him, but nowhere is there any force exerted by him

The kindly man offers to find all sorts of alternative lives to her if she desires it, and with each new step asks her she can still leave;

Jaqen's behavior and the kindly man's with regards to her volunteering in light of having killed 3 (well way more than 3) for her, while she offered nothing is in severe contrast to how the First recruited the Second. That is very peculiar and seems to suggest her volunteering is a requirement, either of a profile or prophecy. Arya then is more like the First - one who came to regard him- or herself as an instrument of the Many Faced God of her/his own volition.

Fighting

Of extra note that like Jaqen, the kindly man does not see any need for Arya to fight. Nor is she trained in sword fighting at the House. Instead, she is taught in making poisons. She learned one knife trick on the streets of Braavos, and she used it to cut open a purse and replace one coin with a poisoned one. And as I mentioned, while Valkyries presided, influenced and supervized a battle, they were not participating shieldmaidens. Instead they used their magical and divine powers, trickery and words. As assassin and spy, Arya is taught to use magic (faces), sleight of hand and poisons.

Conclusion This sums up the features of Arya related to the FM:

cupbearer

intuitive chooser of the slain

servant of a god of death of Many Faces and many names (Odin references)

the battle of Harrenhal is dedicated to her

no fighting (neither while guided by Jaqen or the kindly man)

female

volunteers like the First

It is likely the First was in fact a woman, while women are rare in the order. With Arya ticking off so many Valkyrie features, I think the FM have a prophecy regarding a girl-child to be the FIrst Born Again who strongly knows the will of the Many Faced God, and want her as the god's voice to guide them against the foes who would destroy humanity and defy the natural order of life and death, for she will intuitively know which deaths and which sacrifices would please the Many Faced God. (https://asoiaf.westeros.org/index.php?/topic/133891-the-valkyrie-of-the-fm-theory-about-the-first-and-the-first-reborn/ )

[the-end-of-the-storm]

GoT 8x01: the wait is over and winter is definitely here - beware the spoilers below -

I just want to say beforehand that I woke up at 2.30 am to watch the new episode - so if this makes no sense at all, well ... let’s blame it on my sleep-deprived brain.

• Don’t know if we already knew this but they actually played the same song from the pilot when D*ny and Jon arrived and it made me a bit melancholic. It’s been a ride.

• The way Missandei eyes the Northerners watching her with distrust had me feel for her. However, watching it for the second time, it gave me another vibe too. As she was a slave, she knows exactly what it means to serve and obey someone you don’t want. So, if Missandei ends up urging D*ny at some point to leave the North be and just rule the other six kingdoms, well, I wouldn’t be surprised.

• Did you notice how happy D*ny was when her dragons intimidated the Northerners? It‘s been a while since I’ve seen her this happy:

This shot is Immediately followed by what has become her signature smug smirk that I dislike so much. Ships aside, a Queen worthy of the title shouldn’t have this kind of reaction to her children imposing fear on her newest subjects who she knows do already not like her all that much. This is like the dragon pit all over again, you know, when she was late to the meeting she demanded, and rode in on a dragon like she already owns the place, when it would have been so much smarter to be a little respectful and humble.

• The Jon and Bran reunion was nice; I suppose as nice at it can get with 3-eyed-Bran. Also, if Jon ever starts looking at D*ny like this, I‘ll start reevaluating him being part of the pack but not a heartbeat before:

• They made Sansa look THIS good for a reason. A sight for sore eyes, isn‘t it Jon?

(And yeah, this is her watching Jonny Boy.)

(And so is this.)

(Now, she’s too busy hugging her man. A smile on her lips and CLOSED eyes ... hmm. Do you see how her hands aren’t even attached to each other yet? Alright, let’s move on, shall we?)

• Lyanna Mormont is the Noorf in a nutshell and I’m here for her angry little girl attitude:

•Sansa isn’t here for chit chat with the saviour and whenever I think I couldn’t stan my girl more, I do. But I’m a bit afraid too, Sansa hates her new Queen amd D*ny KNOWS. 🔥

• Ok, I watched the meeting with the lords very carefully and I made some observations that I just want to throw in here for good measure: 1) D*ny is the last one to sit down at the Lord‘s table and it means things. 2) When poor little Lord Umber (who fucking deserved better!!) adressed Sansa an then Jon, we have them both in the frame, and no one else. However, when he adresses D*ny, we have her literally standing alone by the fireplace. 3) we have Jon and Sansa alone in a frame on 3 separate occasions, while we have only one shoot of Jon and the supposed love of his life alone (unless you count the one with D*ny and Jon‘s crotch ... then, well good for you, I guess). 4) Jon’s “It was the honor of my life.” fucked me the fuck up. You know, I was really afraid after the leaks that although I whole-heartily believe in Pol!Jon I would be miffed at him before it was officially revealed but I was soo wrong. This whole episode I felt so sad for Jon. He’s been through so much and willing to sacrifice everything he ever wanted to keep his people as safe as he can ... he deserves so much better than to be with the woman who took the honor of his life away from him without giving a single fuck about it. And yes, I did notice how Sansa glared at D*ny during this. Jon “I had a choice: keep the crown or protect the Noorf. I chose the Noorf.” I rest my case. 5) “If anyone survives the war to come, we’ll have Jon Snow to thank.” Right in front of D*ny; Tyrion, you brave, brave fool. 6) I think the leaks said, that neither Sansa nor D*ny said anything and I was very happy to find out that that wasn’t true. This is a very long scene, and D*ny only delivered us this little gem: Sansa: “What do dragons eat anyway?” (Which is a damn reasonable enquiry.) “D*ny: “Whatever they want.” 🔥 Maybe I’m overreacting things but this felt like a threat. Seriously, the Dark D*ny Force was strong in this one. They really went there ... wow. I mean it‘s not as if the food question wasn‘t legit. Also this whole the dragons *only* ate 17 goats and 11 of some-other-animal today is proof to me that the food thing is going to be huge. (Also, at first, I thought D*ny was worried that they eat too much when it was the other way around. LOL.)

• Tyrion: “Lady of Winterfell: has a nice ring to it.” Sansa: “So does Hand of the Queen; depends on the queen I suppose.” She really isn’t messing around, is she?

Also Sansa, same scene: “I used to think you are the cleverest man alive.” accompanied by her little judgy smile. She sure knows how to break a man’s heart.

• I’m crossing my fingers for D*ny to suggest to reactivate the Sansa/Tyrion marriage. Let’s be honest, Tyrion would be all for it in a heartbeat. She’s smarter, prettier and old enough that he wouldn’t feel like a creep anymore and now she actually is the Lady of Winterfell. He wanted her before - he must be drooling for her now.

• I was absolutely not disappointed with the Jon/Arya reunion. I thought - considering the circumstances - it was really cute and worthy.

• Arya: “She’s the smartest person I’ve ever met.” Stark sister feels. *-*

• Jon‘s „I'm her family, too.“ killed me a little bit inside. Man, my Jon feels are killing me right know. How can anyone see this and still claim that Jon will abandon his pack to become a Targaryen?

• When Sansa is the Queen of Shade, Cercei is the Queen of Smirk. I wonder if there’s anyway for Cercei to get out of this alive.

• Back to the food thing: it‘s been two years since S7, so thanks for the reminder that the Lannister army in the Field of Fire was people too, and were burned up like Sunday roast. 🔥

• I can’t believe that Yara is absolutely not pissed that D*ny couldn’t give less craps about her being abducted by Euron. even though without her Dany couldn’t have crossed the Narrow Sea.

• Alys Karstark, I see you and your red hair and your complete random appearance that served no plot purpose. Yet.

• Davos “What if the Seven Kingdoms (...) were ruled by a just woman and an honorable man.” I see what you did there, D&D. Also, if you guys are contemplating a J/D marriage, could you please have the decency and do it in front of Sansa? I need that. Thanks x

• If D&D wanted be to stop believing in Pol!Jon they shouldn’t have him happy-riding a dragon and kissing D*ny seconds after having her low-key threatening his sister. It’s just not believable that if this romance was real and between equals that he wouldn’t make it clear that she can’t threaten his family. Dany: “She doesn’t need to be my friend but I am her queen. If she can’t respect me ...” Jon: *then perish*

• Ok, but seriously D*ny, why would you give the guy you’ve just met and whose family and people despise you access to the the very things that gave you all your power? Why would you suggest dragon riding like it means nothing? Hop on, Jonny Boy. Just no. I have soo many questions. Why would you be so careless? (Arrogance, that’s why.)

• JON DOESN’T SAY “WE COULD STAY HERE FOR A THOUSAND YEARS.” But Pol!Jon replies with “We’d be pretty old.” giving no indication that that would be an enticing thought. No, he’d rather go back and fight some wights. Jon has a family he cares about and I don’t think she can relate at all.

•Rheagal is a creeper. Seriously, did you see the full on of him during the J/D snagging. Get a life, Rhaegal!

• I LOVED the Tent 2.0 Scene. Get my son some air. Also, while Jon talks serious stuff, Sansa’s like “No, she’s much prettier (than the Mad King).” with the same gaze she had when Littlefinger told her that a marriage alliance between J/D would make sense. I think it was the same weird voice too, but I’m not 100% sure right now. Jon really does reply nothing after Sansa questioning his motives for bending the knee and it tells me all I need to know.

• On this note, I want to repeat that I really need someone suggest a J/D marriage to Sansa.

• Sam finding out about his father and especially his brother broke my heart. It was everything I wanted and knew his reaction to be. And it was much worse to watch unfold than the leaks made it out to be. Especially since the scene started out really cute with Sam all nervous to be talking to them and cute about his book-stealing past and then he even tries to stay reasonable after hearing about his father but then he learns about his brother ... and it’s just too fucking much. Look at his face. I never ever cry during shows or movies but if I hadn't been prepared beforehand, I probably would have.

• Bran needs to stop staring at people in the courtyard. Just sayin’.

• Jon and Sam in the crypts. My poor babies. I don’t really want to say anything about their talk at this point because I believe in Jon and his agenda and if he needs to be detached to deal with keeping up the facade, then my man needs to do what he needs to do. However, I will be watching his next interaction with Sansa very closely. OK, to be honest, since I already had read the leaks before the episode, I was a little distracted during the parentage reveal and I couldn’t help but imagine Jon thinking “Well, this explains a fucking lot.”

• Last but not least: JAIME IS IN WINTERFELL!!!

My favorite moments:

- The Tarly Reveal

- Jon x Arya Reunion

- all Jonsa scenes

- Sansa and Tyrion on the battlements

On my threatened-to-be-burned watchlist:

🔥 Sansa Stark

🔥 Lyanna Mormont

🔥 Lord Varys

🔥 Samwell Tarly

🔥 Gendry Waters / Baratheon

🔥 JAIME LANNISTER (I have a hard time imagining Jaime to keep his mouth shut when he realizes that D*ny doesn’t just fry up soldiers in battle but that it’s her favorite method of conducting justice. There is too much history and PTSD between them, they’re like a time bomb; you can’t put them under one roof without at least threatening to set it off.)

All in all, this was such a good episode and I’m thrilled to see what’s to come. I’m so happy that Jon is still all I hoped for him to be inside and that Jonsa is still on track. I was even a little surprised at how they portrayed D*ny in this episode, because D&D aren’t even trying anymore, are they? I might be a little biased but I think if you’re not a full on stan there wasn’t much to root for her in this one. Anyways, everything within the episode fitted neatly with our Pol!Jon, Dark!D*ny and Jonsa theories and I couldn’t be happier about it.

Cheers xxx