#you don't understand what you are asking for. this man canonically has children and is married to someone else

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

Wait, fuck, hold on-

THEY CAN'T FUCKING BRING OUT AN ANTI-HERO ARTEMIS WHEN I'M IN THE MIDDLE OF STUDYING FOR FINALS!!

WHAT THE FUCK, DC?!? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FOCUS?!?

oh i am so excited holy shit. am i the only one getting slade vibes from her?? because im getting massive slade/rose wilson vibes from the single eye cover and im wondering if artemis is a plant, someone unconnected from slade who wouldn't be considered a threat, to go undercover and get close to the titans. this is also like, high-key a chance to make jade and artemis sisters and/or half-sisters in canon which would be neat. i know comics fans aren't huge on changes to the canon based on outside things but making them half sisters doesn't really change jades backstory, nor artemis'.

[ckret2]

One of my favourite things about the book of Bill has to be how hard it has cemented that, for all the airs Bill likes to put on, he's actually awful at manipulating people. Like if you look at the just the show, on the surface his record isn't bad. 2 1/2 successful manipulations out of 3 shown on-screen is solid. ((That is until you examine it further and realize that the 2 successful ones were done to 12 year old children who 1. Weren't exactly in the best states of mind at the time due to severe sleep deprivation/a difficult emotional state and 2. he still had to trick via his power (the fake timer on the laptop/possessing blendin so Mabel didn't know it was him)) But now? Oh man! Ford wasn't just lucky, he joined a tradition dating back all the way to humanities beginnings! Bill has been trying to get people to do his bidding literally since people had gotten good enough at resource-gathering and tool-usage to be able to potentially build his portal! And he failed over and over and over again and he never learned shit! That would be bad enough but not only did he fail at manipulating several civilzations worth of people, they ALSO constantly thwarted him in ways beyond that! He got himself banished, trapped, and annoyed to hell and back and thats just the stuff he told us! Thats not even speaking of his latest and possibly greatest fumble, failing the convince us, the reader of the Book of Bill who is canonically a fan of Bill or at least Gravity Falls into striking a deal with him. In short, if I asked Bill to manipulate a child into eating ice cream with just his words I wouldn't trust him to get it done within my or the kids life time.

Except, Bill IS good at manipulating people. You JUST DESCRIBED several examples of him being good at manipulating people.

Identifying the most vulnerable targets, the "weakest link" most likely to cave and do what you want—like children (or elderly people with dementia, or immigrants who don't understand the language well)—is part of being good at manipulation.

Identifying and taking advantage of people in a compromised mental state when they're not thinking clearly and are more likely to do what you want is part of being good at manipulation. (He didn't try to persuade Mabel to destroy the laptop, BECAUSE HE KNEW DIPPER WAS MORE VULNERABLE. He didn't approach Dipper or Ford dressed as Blendin—BECAUSE HE KNEW MABEL WAS MORE VULNERABLE.)

Just straight up lying to people—about a situation (the timer), about a person (Blendin)—is a manipulation tactic.

Fabricating a totally artificial emergency and pressuring a target to ACT NOW to prevent disaster is a common con artist trick. (See: scammers who cold call strangers, say they're from the IRS and the stranger is behind on taxes, and demand they transfer a large amount of money from their bank RIGHT NOW or go to jail—WHICH ACTUALLY WORKS A LOT, especially because people CAN'T THINK AS CLEARLY when they're panicking.)

Disguising yourself as somebody trustworthy or somebody intimidating to trick a target into obeying you is also a common con artist trick.

Not to mention ALL the work we see into how he manipulates Ford: he makes note of Ford's social isolation and how Bill can use that to his advantage; he identifies the thing Ford wants most (respect & acknowledgment for his intellectual achievements) and weaves that into his manipulation; he uses both Ford's ego AND Ford's insecurity against him; he almost effortlessly turns Ford against the one friend who adores him, making Ford think his friend's kindest attempts to help are evidence of backstabbing; and even though ultimately it didn't work, you can't say that threatening to destroy Ford's life from inside his own body was a BAD manipulation tactic.

Plus the entire muse schtick. Fooling people into thinking you're doing something magical or supernatural is such a common manipulation tactic that there's a whole name for it: "mystical manipulation." Bill does this NON STOP with Ford, and with many of his other victims.

We see him successfully talk an entire tribe into helping him build a working redwood portal—and they only turned against him when the portal started petrifying people, unleashing monsters, and creating bottomless pits. He talked the Aztecs into sacrificing 9,000 people to build a portal that didn't even work. He talked not-Disney into making a cartoon about Bill that included UNLEASHING LIVE BEES IN THE THEATER. Who the hell would think that's a good idea!

And to top it all off, he formed multiple successful cults that were ride or die for him until the bitter end. That's like the crown jewel of being good at manipulating. Bill talked a whole town into joining his cult in under a month in spite of the fact that he kept calling them plasma bags and chugging formaldehyde. Based on the dates in the document about Silas Birchtree, people were marrying into Ciphertology at least five years after Bill's puppet disintegrated and he ditched them.

Bill was good at manipulating people!

Do you know what Bill WASN'T good at? Getting people to finish and open a portal.

Largely because portals are difficult to make, and because he can only get so far into the process before it becomes obvious that this thing will destroy the world and that's usually enough to override any other threats or promises he makes.

Yeah, he says some stupid things that should obviously give him away—like talking about setting off all the nukes. He's kinda pathetic and a bit of a dumbass sometimes. But, here's the thing about successful manipulators, con artists, and cult leaders: MOST of them are kinda pathetic dumbasses. Cult leaders are idiots. There's a cult leader who preached his followers should be on minimal vegetarian diets, had his chauffeur take him out to a big fancy steak dinner, then told his chauffeur he did that to test his faith—and the chauffeur was like well okay. Cult leaders are idiots, AND YET SUCCEED. When Bill says you can get anyone to hum along with your tune if you've got charisma? He's right—that's true in real life.

Manipulators get away with manipulation not because they tell such brilliant impeccable lies that the most clear-headed rational person in the world would believe them... but because they know to tell their lies to people who aren't clear-headed and rational, and because they know using cheap tricks and false identities and lies that the victim WANTS to be true works better than a flawless story, and because they know most people tend to give other people the benefit of the doubt that what they're saying is probably true.

So yeah, he's too cocky, he's a bit pathetic, he lost a lot, he loses at the end of the book... but that doesn't mean he's a bad manipulator. It means that being good at manipulating can only carry you so far, and Bill didn't have what it takes to carry him the rest of the way.

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (37)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: angst, attempted murder, descriptions of wounds and their effects, descriptions of the fight ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

Remember to read Alys POV before this chapter: click

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Jace's presence in Harrenhal was making him furious – although he was staying in his chamber, offended apparently at the whole world, he was irritated by the very fact that it was unclear when he intended to return to Dragonstone. His wife noticed his sullen mood and, to his satisfaction, decided to speak with her brother. What he heard when she returned to their quarters, however, shocked him more than relieved him.

"What?" He asked, hearing that this fool intended to take Alys Rivers with him.

"He fucks her?" He sneered, raising his eyebrows in amusement. His wife sighed heavily, burying her face in her hand, exhausted.

"I don't know. He didn't refer to her as his mistress, just his relative. Which in our family, unfortunately, leaves a lot of room for interpretation, as you know, uncle." She muttered, stroking her slightly rounded belly as she walked slowly to the window. He involuntarily chuckled at her words, shaking his head.

One of the things he had treasured about her since childhood was the irony she was able to frame with her own characteristic gentleness.

"He was seeing her without your permission?" He asked lowly, looking down at his fingers. His niece sighed heavily.

"Yes."

"Are you going to leave this insult unanswered?"

"I don't have the strength for it, Aemond. Let him do what he wants. He plans to leave for Dragonstone tomorrow morning."

He hummed under his breath, spreading out comfortably in his chair, satisfied.

"Wonderful."

They both shuddered as one of the guards walked into his chamber without warning. The man bowed before them.

"What is it?" He asked coldly.

"Your Grace. We have come across the trail of Larys Strong."

He got up from his seat and nodded at the man to come closer, feeling his heart pounding like mad.

"Speak."

"Lord Strong was seen an hour's ride on horseback from Harrenhal. Someone noticed people moving around in the ruins of the old fortress at night and recognised a man limping on one leg among them." The man replied.

He pressed his lips together in contentment, thinking that the moment had arrived when he would finally be able to cut off the head of this viper and throw it to his wife at her feet.

"Assemble the troop. We leave at nightfall."

His wife watched from the sidelines as he and his commanders discussed how to plan their expedition.

He decided he would fly on Vhagar to raze Lord Strong to the ground.

"What if it's a trap? Doesn't that seem too easy to you?" She muttered uncertainly, stroking her lower abdomen in a nervous gesture with her trembling hand, looking up at him with her big eyes. He stared at her wordlessly, fastening the buckles of his leather coat, changing into his riding attire.

"I'm sure it's a trap. Nevertheless, it won't be much of one if I burn them alive." He hummed, grasping her face in his hands, placing a lingering, wet kiss on her forehead. He heard her swallow hard, stroking his shoulder.

"The fire won't reach him if he's hiding underground. Perhaps it would be better if I flew with you?"

Her suggestion made him boil with rage.

"I think you have completely lost your mind." He said coldly, his pupil narrowing dangerously in frustration.

"I will assign you my most trusted guards to look after our quarters. You are not to leave them until I return. Do you understand?" He asked drily, impatient.

She nodded her head.

His hands cupped her warm cheeks as he leaned in to place a comforting, tender kiss on her sweet lips, but he stopped in mid-motion when the door to his chamber opened.

He turned over his shoulder, frustrated, and saw Jace before his eyes. His nephew was breathing heavily, looking at him with wide eyes.

"I fly with you."

He snorted at his words, dropping his hands in a gesture of helplessness.

Gods, give me fucking patience, he thought.

"Don't make me laugh. Take your whore back where you came from, and get out of my sight." He growled, his wife lowered her gaze in horror and embarrassment. Her brother clamped his mouth shut at his words, furious.

"He wanted to kill my sister."

"Then stay with her and protect her as befits a man."

"I'm not going to stay here while you fight!" Jace exclaimed.

"So this is as always about your pride? Hm?" He hissed, dimly recalling the day he, Aegon and Luke had brought him a pig, finding it amusing that they could humiliate him so easily.

It was always about making him feel better at someone else's expense.

He walked towards him, towering over him, wanting to show him who was the rider of the greatest dragon in the world, who had the last word.

"You are our guest, nephew, and you are straining my patience. I tolerate you only for the sake of my wife and my child in her womb."

"My aunt saw a sea of blood in her dream. She thinks something is going to happen there. I want to take revenge on the man who tried to poison my little sister and her child. I ask you, uncle, to let me fly with you."

He looked at him for a moment, hesitating.

The witch's words made him feel uneasy and he didn't know what he thought about it himself.

"Aemond. Please." His wife mumbled, looking at him pleadingly, her fingers clenched on her stomach.

He licked his lips impatiently, sighed heavily and nodded.

The guard who had informed them of Lord Strong's location had shown his troop on the map where the fortress was, so he ordered his nephew to simply fly after him.

Soaring into the skies on the mighty Vhagar, he felt shivers, cold and discomfort running along his spine, some premonition and anxiety from which he was all tense and vigilant.

My aunt saw a sea of blood in her dream.

On the dragon's back they would have reached their destination faster than his soldiers, so they simply circled above them, adjusting their flight speed to maintain the effect of surprise.

After many minutes, he spotted a small, abandoned fortress, or rather its ruins, in the distance and pressed his lips together at the thought that fire couldn't do anything here – the stronghold was made of stone and they, according to his wife's words, were probably hiding underground.

They wasted no time and landed, heading inside immediately with they troop and torches – he ordered his soldiers to search thoroughly all the rooms of the fortress, himself with his nephew and his commanders descending into the underground, feeling the cold sweat on his back.

There were no signs of anyone's presence, the keep looked like it had been abandoned for years.

Something was wrong, he could feel it, and after a moment he heard the voice of one of the men behind him.

"Long live King Aegon!"

He only had time to turn around when he heard the sound of blades being drawn, one of the commanders swinging a dagger, intent on slitting his shocked nephew's throat. Jace lowered his torch, terrified, taking a few steps back.

"NO!" He shouted, furious, sliding his sword out, wanting to step in front of him and shield him, however, the other soldier stepped in his way.

"Do not protect this traitor, my Prince."

Without thinking about what he was actually doing, with one sweeping swish of his sword he decapitated the man, whose head fell with a loud thud to the ground. Not looking at his inert body, he rushed to the aid of his nephew, who drew his sword and tried to defend himself, pale and trembling with fear.

"UNCLE!" He called out in despair like a small child, trying to push one of his opponents away – there was something in his expression, in his dark eyebrows arched in terror and fear, in his bright eyes that reminded him of her.

He thought they resembled each other when he pushed him away and felt someone's dagger thrust into his back – he drew in a loud breath as he looked at his face full of disbelief, thinking he should have listened to her.

"NO!" He heard Jace shout, throwing himself towards him as he fell to his knees, his soldiers moved away, horrified, looking at him in disbelief.

"Gods, what have you done?" Shouted one of them, the other began to run away, followed by the others, throwing their torches to the ground, clearly afraid of what would befall them for what had happened.

The stab of that blade was not meant for him.

He clutched at his wound and hissed, feeling immense, burning pain, his warm blood beginning to run down his back. He heard the neighing of horses in the distance and then someone's screams as his nephew knelt beside him, trying to lift him up.

"– fuck – fuck,fuck,fuck,FUCK! –" Cursed Jace on the verge of crying, clamping his hand over his wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

He thought, breathing heavily, terrified and shocked that he would die here, abandon her even though he had promised himself he would never leave her again.

"– I want to see her face one more time –" He muttered in a trembling voice, afraid of what could come, afraid of death, afraid of what his family would do with her when he was gone.

If they believe it was Jace who killed him, that this was all a trap set for his life.

"– you'll, uncle – come on – just don't fall asleep –" Jace gasped, throwing his arm over his neck in an attempt to rise with him. He shuddered and drew in a breath as a stocky, bearded man rushed in, panting heavily, his palms in blood.

He looked at them with wide eyes as if he had seen a ghost, holding a torch in his hand.

"Good gods." He muttered.

He couldn't remember much of what happened next – he felt the man helping Jace lead him outside, all around him the screams of men being butchered like animals on the orders of the man who had come to their aid.

He felt it was getting harder and harder for him to keep his eyes open, his head was humming, warm blood running down his leg.

"– just a little more – don't fall asleep, uncle – don't fall asleep –" He heard Jace's voice as if in the distance.

He closed his eyelid, praying to the gods to protect his wife if they decided his time had come, to let her give birth to his child without pain, to let her see Essos as he had promised her.

He hissed loudly as someone picked him up and then began to pull him onto something rough – he felt someone slide him into the saddle, and then someone's figure sat behind him before rising into the sky a moment later, the crisp, chilly night breeze cooling his hot face.

"– don't fall asleep, uncle – hold on –" He heard his nephew's pleading voice and hummed sleepily under his breath, remembering her face.

When he closed his eyes, he saw her standing in front of him, terrified and flooded with tears then, when he lost his eye.

He felt a similar pain, though not in his face, and had trouble concentrating, her words seeming to him to be mere mumbles coming from afar.

"– I'm with you – you won't die – you won't die –"

He shuddered and opened his eyes, a loud hiss came from his throat as he felt a stinging, deep pain in his back. The sound he made woke up the person who was apparently lying next to him – she had risen, but in the darkness of the chamber he could not see her face, however, he immediately recognised her scent.

Vanilla.

"– Rhaenys –" He muttered, trying to lift his hand towards her, but he was unable to and it fell numbly to the bedding.

"– I am here, my beloved –" He heard her whisper beside him, her gentle, soft hand touching his hot cheek.

He sighed quietly, feeling a squeeze in his heart and throat at the thought that she was not disgusted by him, that she still loved him despite the fact that he would forever be crippled.

"– I knew you would come –" He said quietly, seeing her silhouette leaning over him as if through a mist, her puffy, moist lips placed a kiss on his forehead.

"– do you still want to marry me? –" He asked with difficulty, breathing hard, feeling that through the fever his eye were closing again, but he needed to hear it.

He needed to be sure that the great scar he would have on his face from now on and the absence of his eye did not cross him out as her future lover and husband.

Her figure froze, her thumb stroking his jaw.

"– uncle – we are married – I'm expecting your child –" She whispered in a trembling voice, gently grasping his wrist, guiding his hand to her slightly rounded lower abdomen.

He swallowed hard, furrowing his brow, and then looked at her, suddenly understanding, feeling tears burning under his eyelids, involuntarily smiling.

"– I have married you –"

"– yes, my love – I am your wife and you are my husband –" She said softly, leaning towards him, her sweet, moist lips pressed against his in a warm, tender kiss, from which his heart thumped harder in his chest.

"– you promised me that you would take me to Essos – you can't leave me now –" She mumbled out in a breaking voice, nuzzling her forehead against his, her gentle hands stroking tenderly his heated, sweaty cheek.

"– never, my sweetest – never –"

He whispered, feeling calm, and after a moment a quiet, warm darkness enveloped him.

When he woke up again, he was blinded by the brightness; he hissed and raised his hand, trying to cover his face. He heard someone get up from a chair and walk over to the bed, sitting down next to him on the sheets.

"– Aemond –" He heard his mother's voice and blinked, running his hand over his face, wondering if it was a dream. Her familiar fingers caught his wrist, squeezing it tightly, as if she needed to make sure he was really awake.

"– my son –" She muttered in a trembling voice. He lowered his hand and saw her face, pale and swollen from the tears she had clearly had to shed over his bed for days.

He could not remember what had happened and why he felt such a terrible pain in his back.

"– where am I? –" He choked out, sighing heavily, tilting his head back, feeling like his skull was about to burst.

"– in Harrenhal – you had a fever for days and were delirious –" She explained, taking his hand in hers, stroking it affectionately. "– I arrived as soon as I found out – Daemon is here too –"

He swallowed hard, memory after memory regaining his awareness of what had happened, Jace's terrified face and the blade stuck in his back.

Don't fall asleep, uncle.

He looked at her in horror, looking around.

"– where is Rhaenys? –" He asked, tense and concerned that she was not by his side, that perhaps someone was trying to hurt her while he lay in bed, unaware of anything. His mother furrowed her brow and shook her head.

"– who? –" She asked, as if she didn't understand what he meant.

He felt a cold sweat on his back at the thought that her silhouette lying by his side was merely a figment of his fever-ignited imagination.

"– my niece –" He muttered. His mother nodded, and it was only then that he realised that no one but him had called her by that name.

"– she sleeps – she stayed by your side for days and nights, but we feared it would harm both her and the baby – her brother persuaded her to rest –" She explained, stroking his hand with hers.

He closed his eyelid, feeling incredibly, wonderfully relieved at her words.

"What happened?"

His mother pressed her lips together, lowering her head.

"Your wife sent a letter to your brother-king. It appeared that Lord Strong, in consultation with your grandfather, wished to deprive Rheanyra of her two children and her dragons in one fell swoop. While Jace was to be murdered away from the fortress, your niece was to be abducted so that your grandfather could pact with you for you to join the war, but with the help of Alys Rivers she hid in her chamber."

He stared at her with wide-open eye, feeling a squeeze in his throat and discomfort in his stomach, a cold sweat running down his back.

Your niece was about to be abducted so that your grandfather could pact with you for you to join the war.

"They wanted Daemon and Rhaenyra to believe that it was you who betrayed them. That you had such a plan all along, to take revenge on her for your eye."

She whispered, looking at him with a sad, tired look.

Only after a moment did he realise that his mother's gown was black.

"Your brother-king sentenced my father to death."

[do-u-know-this-autisticcharacter]

Do You Know This (non-canon) Autistic Character?

Disclaimer - People are allowed to like fictional characters but not like the author. This does not mean we/they support JK Rowling.

Propaganda

This post which includes:

He doesn’t participate in any social meetings. He’s quite miserable during the Christmas in Harry’s third year. He patrols the corridors and the grounds instead of attending the Yule Ball. He doesn’t stay for dinner after the Order meetings. He only attends the DE meetings because he has to.

His peers at school think he’s weird. Lily’s friends from Gryffindor don’t understand why she’s friends with him. When Harry asks why the Marauders bullied him, Sirius says he was different, weird, he was an "oddball". Autistic children and teenagers are often bullied because they are perceived as not normal, awkward, weird.

He doesn’t make a normal eye contact, he stares a bit too much. It can be partly explained by Legillimency, but he stared too much even as a teenager.

There’s a difference between how he speaks as a teenager and as an adult. It doesn’t sound entirely natural, he definitely had to put effort into that. It’s partly because he doesn’t want to sound like a poor man with a northern (?) accent, but autistic struggle with fluent communication may also be a reason.

He’s quite rude. He might be just *evil*, but he may just not fully understand how cruel he actually sounds. From his point of view he’s just honest and doesn’t beat around the bush. OK, maybe he’s a little mean, but not cruel… right?

He uses sarcasm (a lot of autistics actually do), but he doesn’t really appreciate Harry’s and other people’s sass, he treats their words too seriously.

He seems a little oblivious to other people’s emotional state and seems to analyse their behavior more intellectually.

He has special interests: Dark Arts / DADA and Potions.

He has his own collection of Potions ingredients, including rare ones, collection of weird jars (I guess they may contain some Potions ingredients, but also he may like them because of visual stimming aspect) and vast collection of books at home.

His Potions ingredients must be very orderly, he knows immediately that something is missing and what it is.

He doesn’t wash his hair as often as he should. It could be partly because of his poor background (he was neglected, he wasn’t taught to take a proper care of his hair, he didn’t even have a real bathroom as a child), partly because he has no one to look nice for, partly because of the Potions fumes. Autism might make him care less about his appearance. (He does care about hygiene though. Apparently he shaves regularly and Harry would certainly notice if Snape was dirty or smelly. His sallow skin and teeth have nothing to do with hygiene, it’s a result of his poverty and malnutrition.)

He has some sensory issues. He wears the same, a little baggy robes (they flutter as he walks). He’s sensitive to light: his Potions classroom is dim (it’s in the dungeons, but he could brighten it up with magic); he makes his DADA classroom dim, even though it’s no longer in the dungeons; when Harry comes to his first Occlumency lesson, Snape waits for him in a dark room. (You know, people don’t do things like that because they’re evil, it doesn’t make sense).

[saintsenara]

hey :)

do you have any thoughts on when death eaters are given the dark mark? because the order say that voldemort wouldn't make someone who's still at school but then draco has the dark mark when he's sixteen.

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

we only know of one death eater's actual age at marking - draco malfoy, who, as you say, was sixteen - from canon, although barty crouch jr and regulus black are also heavily, heavily implied in the text to have been marked before they left hogwarts.

the point of the order's conviction in half-blood prince that voldemort doesn't care about underage death eaters is that it's completely wrong.

this is largely for narrative reasons - it separates harry, the person in the series who understands voldemort and his motivations best, out from the rest of the order, who never quite manage to wrap their heads around the dark lord's psychology, and it's another example of the classic "the adults are useless and don't listen and the child-hero is right" trope which is found in all children's literature. it also ties into the role slughorn plays in the plot of half-blood prince, as someone willing to turn a blind eye to children committing evil.

from a watsonian perspective, getting the death eaters while they're young also - obviously - greatly helps voldemort when it comes to controlling, frightening, and indoctrinating them. a sixteen-year-old new recruit is - generally - going to be much more malleable than a sixty-year-old one...

but - as i've said elsewhere, in reference to when snape was marked - there's no canonical evidence that voldemort follows any sort of set timeline when it comes to granting the mark - it's not a "reward for passing your three-month probation" sort of thing.

and nor do i think it would make sense for him to do that. instead, it's much more plausible that he marks his death eaters at his own discretion, whenever he views it as most beneficial to him for him to do so.

draco is marked at sixteen - the moment voldemort decides to use him to kill dumbledore - as a way of sending a message to lucius and narcissa. draco taking the mark emphasises how little regard voldemort holds lucius in after the cock-up in the department of mysteries, because it involves voldemort taking ownership of [and literally branding] his son. draco bearing the mark also enables voldemort to circumvent lucius and narcissa when it comes to communicating with draco, summoning draco to see him, and so on.

it's also a grooming tactic which wins draco over to what voldemort canonically intends to be a suicide mission [another punishment for lucius]. as i've said here, draco accepts the task the dark lord gives him because he wants to avenge his father's incarceration, believes that lucius being in prison makes him the man of the house with a responsibility to protect his mother and honour his family name, and sincerely thinks that voldemort's aims are the establishment of pureblood oligarchy, in which families like his will be at the top of the pile.

[he learns otherwise soon enough...]

voldemort marking draco quickly makes him feel special and like voldemort values him - something which is crucial to him being easily manipulated. making him wait is something voldemort would understand as likely to drive him to resent the dark lord and cause trouble for him.

and the need to maintain this desire to be special would clearly also be the driving factor in when voldemort marked barty crouch jr. and regulus, which almost certainly happened similarly young and similarly quickly.

but we shouldn't imagine that this would automatically be the case for other teenage recruits, or other death eaters' sons. voldemort might indeed wait until those boys leave school to mark them. but not because - as the order thinks - he cares about them having newts or being of legal age, but because he's recognised that their personalities will make them want to earn their marks in his service, and withholding the mark for a certain amount of time will keep them obedient and eager to please. or because he thinks that holding off on marking them will keep their fathers more loyal than marking them immediately.

this is undoubtedly what happens to snape, for instance.

snape is someone who canonically loathes people who don't have to work for things or who have markers of status he thinks are unearned. while i don't think he'd be upset to get the mark the second he joins the death eaters by any means, i also think that it's at its most effective as a tool voldemort can use to control him if he's made to wait and work for it.

voldemort giving him the mark as a reward for going above and beyond after a period in his service makes much more sense than voldemort giving it to him right away. and i think there's a very good case to be made from canon that the event which results in snape getting the mark is reporting the prophecy, which happens in early 1980, around two years into his career as a death eater.

similarly, peter pettigrew is someone motivated by jealousy. he wants the markers of status, and to be understood as superior both to his fellow marauders and his fellow death eaters, but he's actually at his most driven when he doesn't yet have these rewards in his possession.

as a result, i think it's extremely plausible that voldemort doesn't give him the mark until 1994 - around fourteen years [although, obviously, thirteen of those are when he's a rat and voldemort's a wisp] after he defects to the death eaters - once pettigrew has restored him to the semi-body which allows him to be moved, brought him to england, and helped him contact barty crouch jr.

[voldemort is implied to be doing something similar - dangling the possibility of the dark mark as a carrot to keep his minion loyal - with fenrir greyback in deathly hallows.]

this flexibility in the timeframe for marking also helps voldemort keep his death eaters in competition with each other. all he has to do is imply he'll mark their main rival before them unless they do something for him...

[aylarosenberg]

Love shouldn't be a prize or magic words that justify everything

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

Let me start by saying that what I'm about to talk about is something Kishimoto also did with his canon couples, especially with NaruHina and SasuSaku, I apologize first of all, my English isn't very good, but I hope you understand. For these two couples, love is not treated as something that is intended to be built progressively between two people who want to get to know each other, but rather as a prize that will be won by the most persevering player.

Naruto never had romantic feelings for Hinata, but ends up marrying Hinata because she loved him and had been watching him for a long time. Not because he knows her or because her personality attracts him, but because Hinata was so kind and persistent that Naruto has to love her. Sakura has chased Sasuke for so long that it can only be true love and Sasuke can do nothing but reciprocate her love. Except relationships don't work that way and love isn't a prize you have a better chance of winning no matter how hard you try. Love is something that is gradually built between two people as they learn to know each other.

You don't fall in love with someone you only know superficially, much less when you're 12 years old: that's an infatuation, an infatuation, and all the relationships I talked about before seem more like an infatuation that took an obsessive turn than true love. In both cases, the relationship can be resumed by: a teenage Fan girl is obsessed with an idealized version of someone she barely knows and she's so insistent that she will be loved back.

I see a lot of people talking only about SasuSaku, but NaruHina has the same dynamic, in the end Hinata doesn't know much about Naruto, and Naruto knows even less about Hinata. But for some reason, we have to think that this girl is genuinely in love with someone she barely knows.

A second thing I want to say is that love alone doesn't make a relationship work.

Two people can love each other deeply, but if they want to work together for a long time, their relationship needs to have two other things: respect and concessions on both sides. In these relationships between the main cast of Naruto, you get the impression that one spouse simply does what they want and the other remains silent moving forward, no matter what.

For SasuSaku this is kind of obvious. Sasuke is the one who simply doesn't mind continuing to live his life the way he chooses and Sakura can follow him, or gently wait for him to show a sign of love whenever he wants. And when he makes the least effort? Suddenly she is so happy as if he had done something extraordinary. Now you might say to me “but if she's happy with it…”, and I would respond that Sakura is a character written by a grown man, and the fact that this man wrote is female characters being genuinely happy with the bare minimum.

Same thing for Hinata. Basically she is the perfect wife when Naruto doesn't put so much effort into the family. You see Boruto asking her why his father is never there and the only thing Hinata knows how to do is make him sad and tell his son how demanding the job of a Hokage is, and I agree with some analyzes I've seen here, Hinata doesn't have the courage and instead of making her husband understand that his family is also important, she prefers to stay away and support him in anything even when he is wrong. So the worst thing is to see when children express their dissatisfaction to one of the parents, and the parent in question doesn't even try to make their spouse understand, but rather to make the children accept that things are the way they are.

This is something that fans tend to censor in the canon and when we criticize the couples SasuSaku and NaruHina, the only thing that fans of these couples know to say is: "SASUSAKU AND NARUHINA IS CANON", as if a canonical seal would erase the regrettable relationship and bad that these couples have or as if these were magic words that justify everything.

Another offshoot of this dynamic that Kishimoto built around love being treated as a prize, is the view of some fans that if a character DOESN'T reciprocate the other's feelings, then he is an idiot who has and deserves to be punished.

This is particularly the case for Sakura with Naruto, Naruto with Hinata, and Sasuke with Sakura.

Some fans seem to have a sense of revenge by PUNISHING characters for not reciprocating someone else's feelings. Sakura deserves to be humiliated for not seeming to be interested in Naruto. Sasuke should be physically beaten and remain filled with regret for rejecting Sakura. In The Last, Toneri's entire arc makes it seem like they're blaming Naruto for not loving Hinata, Blaming him for being so stupid because he didn't notice the byakugan princess.

In The Last this is even more visible, because you have the reconstruction of Naruto's past, placing Hinata as a figure from his past, even though Naruto's childhood was lonely, you realize that they bombard Naruto with positive memories about Hinata to convince him to love Hinata. This view really irritates me. Just because you love someone doesn't mean the other person is wrong for not loving you back.

The truth is that everything they built for us about SasuSaku and NaruHina was rushed and completely absurd. When we compare these couples with ShikaTema and MinaKushi, we realized how bad the relationship between the main couples is.

I know Naruto is a shonen anime whose focus isn't romance, but it seems like Kishimoto really went out of his way to make SS and NH romance as bad as possible.

Yes, I was upset tonight, so I had to complain a little. Hope you have a good day! ❤

[acourtofthought]

Genuine question, but why do you want Elucien together if they aren’t in love? They aren’t currently attracted to each other right now. They can’t even be in the same room.

Is it just the potential? Or promise of the mating bond or something?

Because I shipped Elucien too when they were declared mates. But by ACOFAS, I didn’t understand why suddenly SJM decided to have them not even interact. If they ever have a conversation I might jump back over to elucien, but so far-there’s nothing between them.

And we know there can be mates that aren’t good romantic pairings. Like Rhys’s parents. All signs are currently pointing to the fact that Elucien is also one of the incompatible pairs.

Idk I just don’t understand why I should keep rooting for them if there hasn’t been any development on the page? Am I missing something??

Genuine question: Why would I want to read a love story that starts with the couple already being in love? Were Claire and Jamie from Outlander in love at the start or was she in love with and married to another man? Where she married Jamie and STILL wasn't in love with him? Were Daphne and Simon in love at the start of Bridgerton? Was he not FORCED to marry her even when he didn't want to ever marry or have children? Were Elizabeth and Darcy infatuated with one another at the start of their book? You have no canon evidence that Elain isn't attracted to Lucien. The only canon evidence we have of anything is that Elain didn't want a male or a mate. Just like Nesta didn't want a mate in her book. But guess what? Those things change. Those are just hurdles for a character to overcome. By the end of her book Nesta proudly called Cassian her mate but she got into a fight with him over it at first. Yes Elain "shrinks back" from Lucien but why are you defaulting to one possible answer "she's not attracted to him"? When you look at SJMs style of writing, isn't it more likely that Elain withdraws from Lucien because he sees her too clearly and that scares her? When Feyre tells us that Elain has even Az beat for secret keeping, isn't it possible that Lucien is the one person who can see through the secrets Elain hides and it's intimidating? Because he might see that she's not as fine and content as she'd have the others believe? Something she wants them to keep believing as she's possibly worried about disappointing them? (Rhys's words). You're right, there are couples who might not be right for one another, evidenced by the example you provided with Rhys's parents. Rhys's father was cold and vicious. Does that sound like Lucien? Rhys's father immediately stole Rhys's mother away the second the bond snapped and married her that night. Does that sound like what Lucien did with Elain? Rhys's mother pleaded with his father to ban wing clipping but he refused. Has Elain asked anything of Lucien that he was unwilling to give her? I like Elucien because neither has to be anyone different if they end up together. Elain doesn't have to struggle with cruelty bothering her as she would if she ended up with a torturer. She doesn't have to hide in the shadows as she would if she ended up with Az. She would get to enjoy balls and party and socializing in a way she wouldn't if her partner was Az who prefers his alone time. She'd get to share her love of nature with someone who the author also confirms is happiest in nature. I like the thought of Elucien because it's so clearly written on the wall that they are right for one another though it's normal that Elain isn't ready to face that yet as she's still processing trauma and figuring out who she is as a fae female. Or maybe she does realize it and it's what scares her, she already suffered rejection and a broken heart from Graysen, I don't imagine she's prepared to run into someone else's arms who has the power to hurt her. My guess is SJM hasn't had them interact because the second Elain and Lucien have a real conversation, it's over for both of them. Their hearts will be gone, flying into the palms of the other. It's more exciting to read about all that in their own POVs rather than someone else's. You don't have to root for anyone you don't like. Hell, Elucien could be endgame and you still don't need to root for them. But I grow a little tired of people acting clueless as to why Elucien's still love the idea of them together and why it's really not a problem that they aren't talking right now.

[nevertheless-moving]

gnashing my teeth over vetinari and vimes in this au because you know what happens when you take 'not close but the closest another human can come to understanding me' and then give a thirty year headstart to the slower guy?

Harold, its just actually understanding . It's just understanding and being understood by another human, if only for brief, precious moments.

Sure vetinari understands vimes, that's not exceptional. (Except it is, it is, already so few knew him anymore, and now in the past again, having lost everything, everything - but this fresh faced dictator to be. This man who looks into people's souls and then gives vimes a double look).

But who really gets vetinari? Who else looks at children playing with garbage and sees the arteries of a world that could, must be? Who looks at pisstained ruins and sees the schools that will be built overlayed with every grueling step it will take to get there? Who's only weapon and only constraint is his own flesh and time, too much time, never enough time? Who has a Duty to The city beyond religious, ordained by the creator of their universe, something above gods and yet far, far beneath them.

Vimes doesnt need someone to direct his life. He's never needed that. Except holy shit he does, he definitely does, he needs a whole fucking support team but hes making less than minimum wage now. Give him something, anything to believe in.

Vetinari doesn't need to be believed in . He's never needed that. But he is still a man, and whoooo booooooy it is a heady thing to be trusted so recklessly, especially by someone like him, who mistrusts everything.

take that late canon Synergy, break it apart and then put it back together with a little bit more breathing room, a wee less intense power dynamics...!

Anyway they're friends. Best friends. By default possibly, since they don't have any other ones, but still. Two friends with souls too weathered for the lives their bodies have lived, bodies which are, at least at one point, and I'm not joking, teenage guys.

...

I just think they're neat.

...

Is it homerotic? Well first we have to remember that Samuel Vimes is doing Bad. We remember that? Ok. Now, let me ask you - is vimes the type of depressed that masturbates to feel something, or the type of depressed that cannot fathom human contact without pain. Exactly. It's like the cat that's both in the box and not or whatever. Sometimes one of them will be laying on the ground staring at the sky through the ceiling and the other will come and lay down next to him and their fingers will lightly brush against eachother and it will be the singular most intimate moment of not just their lives but also the life of the assassin that was watching in confusion from the window.

[artofkhaos404]

what are your villain!todoroki headcanons 👀

Thanks for the ask, man! I got a few...

× Sometime before Shoto decides he wants to go to UA, imagine Dabi leaving an anonymous note for him, asking to meet alone, and on the note are some details listed about Shoto's abusive childhood that no one could have possibly known unless they lived in the Todoroki household. That's a mystery Shoto can't resist solving, so he meets up with him. Dabi reveals his identity as Touya Todoroki and explains to Shoto why he's doing what he's doing- to reveal the truth of Endeavor's evil deeds to the world. Dabi offers Shoto an opportunity to help in this plot, or if nothing else, a way out of his abusive household; coming to live with his brother. Maybe Shoto has to take some time to think about it, but eventually, he makes the decision secretly run away and move in with Dabi to escape Endeavor- but nothing more. However, the more time he spends hanging around the League and hearing their own horror stories, the more time he spends bonding with his brother and experiencing new things with him he was never allowed to before, Todoroki begins to realize just how much damage has been done unto him by his parents. As time goes on, he begins to see their perspective and understand their plight intimately. He grows to hate commercialized heroism in general; because if someone as terrible as Endeavor can become a hero... what could the other greats be hiding behind their masks? And how much pain could be relieved from victims of fake heroes, such as himself and Dabi, if someone were to stop these "heroes?" Wouldn't that act be heroism; true and unadulterated? Shoto then makes the decision to join his brother in the mission that Stain began before them; to tear corrupted hero society to the ground.

× I don't think Shoto would abandon his morals completely as a villain. He would consider himself more akin to an underground hero that works with villains for a common goal. Most of he and Dabi's arguments would probably revolve around this 😅

× His villain costume would be just as simple and practical as his hero costume. I imagine the same design, but in white and black rather than the dark blue.

× Even when he's old enough to get a place of his own, Shoto decides to stay in Dabi's apartment. Growing up with so many siblings, living alone sounds more lonely than it's worth to him despite his introversion. Dabi and Shoto are both quiet types who enjoy their own spaces, but they also both value the comfort of a presence being in the other room.

× I could see Shoto taking in a stray cat, maybe one who is injured or blind or missing an ear, and bringing it back to Dabi's apartment. At first, Dabi said it was a waste of time and money and that he should throw the thing out. But after seeing how much comfort the little furball brought Shoto, he stopped complaining about it.

× Dabi would train Shoto to use his left side; insisting on helping his brother get over the fear of being like their father in order for Shoto to realize his full potential.

× Shoto would have trouble getting along with the more impulsive, violent League members such as Shigaraki- Dabi would often end up playing referee (all the while chuckling at the colorful yet painfully accurate insults Shoto would throw).

× Despite this, Shoto can be just as impulsive if you trigger him on the wrong day. Instead of becoming warmer through the series, like in canon, Shoto would become colder and more heartless as time went on. He would never hurt someone for the thrill, but if he feels you need to be brought to justice or if you step to him, he'll do what he feels like.

× And if you hurt a child and he sees it or hears about it? Might as well count yourself dead. Same goes for Dabi. They may be cruel people, but they don't stand for child abuse.

× It wasn't always this way. When they were first reunited, Shoto saw Dabi do unspeakable things- even to children. But gradually, through one another's influence, Shoto became a better villain and Dabi became a better person.

[necrotic-nephilim]

for the recent ask game, i’m really curious about your take on 7 + 8 :P

for the choose violence ask game!

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how the fandom acts about them?

i'll be so honest: Jason Todd. i know there's a lot of argument of "who has the worst fans" and i think that question is flawed and impossible to answer, but i will say Jason fans irked me so deeply. because i read mostly 90s era Batfam, i admittedly didn't have a lot of exposure to Jason for a while, expect for his New-52 runs i'd read years ago. and since i never liked him based on those runs, i could not understand *what* his fans liked about him, or where they got some of their headcanons/ideas from. i've never been more baffled. it ranges from "oh i don't agree but you do you, i guess?" to "what character are you talking about i am BAFFLED". and it soured me on Jason for so long that i actually hate read *most* of his pre-Flashpoint appearances just to understand what on earth people liked about him. and now i can say, i love him dearly, but i can also say, i still don't know what character his fans are talking about sometimes. and i hate the fanon version of Jason who feels almost, Deadpool-ified? with this self-aware slapstick humor but a sad soft interior but also sassy and will kill a man it's just. it feels very hollow to me and it has made me almost tempted to block his character tag more than once over the years bc sometimes certain takes make it difficult to even like him. i just have to tune it out or yell about it for hours.

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

i'm going to get particularly saucy with this one: that Dick Grayson has Eldest Daughter Syndrome. or more generally, that he was parentified. not a single ounce of Dick's backstory indicates him as being parentified. to be parentified you have to be a child taking care of other children either emotionally or physically because your parents are not fulfilling that role. and Dick was *never* a child at the time that another child was under Bruce's care. he has been an adult for the entirety he has known every other Batkid. and even then, the *only* one he was something you could akin to being a parent figure to was Damian, and Dick *chose* that. Dick was a grown-ass man in his late 20s who had the facilities and capacity to make the decision to be Damian's primary caretaker. he's never been parental toward any of the other Batkids, nor has Bruce ever forced upon him the role of having to raise them. did Bruce do a sort of questionable job with Dick? yeah. but i would argue Bruce did the best job with Dick of all the Batkids, and even if he was shitty with Dick, he couldn't parentify Dick bc there was no one for Dick to be parenting. and Dick wasn't parenting Bruce either. they just had a normal relationship of loving and caring for each other.

as for Eldest Daughter Syndrome i just.. i Do Not Like calling any male character "female coded" or "female rage coded" or "eldest daughter coded" because they're *not*. especially not in *this* medium. these are male characters, created by men, written by men 90% of the time, and written to be *male power fantasies*. nothing about Dick or Jason or any Batboy is female-coded bc they exist to be badass men. just because they show emotion and have complex relationships with Bruce doesn't make them suddenly women. Dick shows his anger in a very destructive, stereotypically "masculine" way. even if we strip it of gender, Dick doesn't exhibit most traits of Eldest Daughter Syndrome. he easily makes relationships with people his age, he has no issues telling Bruce no, he did not have caretaking responsibilities forced onto him by Bruce, he's not even really hyperindependent. Dick has a support system outside of the Bats, the fandom just ignores it. does Dick force caretaking responsibilities onto himself sometimes? can he be an overachiever? absolutely. but these are internal complexes that just come with making a character a superhero, it's a complex they all have. if i have to hear one more fan call him Eldest Daughter Syndrome-core or say he's a victim of parentification, i think I'll explode a little bit.

[jpeg-anachronism]

Alrighty, DMC fans, I've figured it out.

Spoilers for those who haven't played DMC 5 yet.

So, we all know that Vergil is Nero's dad. This fact has plagued the DMC fans for years due to it being a loose end that's never tied up.

Who's Nero's mother and Vergil's lover? Unclear. When did this happen? Who knows. How did Vergil fall for someone in what's seemingly a certified out of character moment? Fuck off.

Except here's the thing. The fandom did not fuck off. Forsooth, they fucked on to this thing in such a quick display of background character shipping it would make the Loud House fandom blush.

Side tangent but what the fuck is this I went to look up this one ship from a children's show and I kid you not this is the first thing that came up what the fuck.

Look, bullying is bad. But what if w-

The DMC fans took this one random background lady who stops and looks at Vergil for about three seconds in the opening cutscene of his route and went crazy with it in what was probably the fandom's shining moment.

Suddenly it was all clear. This random ass woman was Vergil's lover, Nero's mom, and the meaning behind the lyric "temptation's pulling me" in one giant package.

And I won't lie to y'all I'm down with that.

Here's the thing, though. We never see her face, hear her name, or really know anything about her besides the fact that she's (hypothetically) Nero's mom. She's the blandest character in the game franchise since we don't know anything aside from her role in canon.

And that's when it hit me.

Capcom did this on purpose.

Let me repeat.

Capcom did this on purpose.

Think about it. At this point, the third game had already come out and fans were practically drooling over Vergil. The fifth game wouldn't be released for a while, so we didn't have peak Vergil madness in the fandom yet but the fan's feelings were clear.

This man was fucking SEXY WITH A CAPITAL C.

The ladies wanted piece of him, and Capcom knew it. Hell, they still know it. Look at the marketing. The official marketing.

Look me in my eyes and tell me that they don't know what this man does to women.

But here's the issue. They needed him to be Nero's father.

When you create a man as perfect as Vergil, you run into a bit of a snag when picking a woman to be his canon lover. Every woman in the stratosphere is going to be tearing their hair out and shaking their fists to the heavens realizing they're not exactly like the woman he's hooked up with.

Sure, some female fans would just be happy to watch Vergil being in love, but deep down every one of them would ask the same question.

"Why couldn't Vergil have fucked me?"

Capcom thrived on Vergil simps. You remove their imaginary chances with an Imaginary character, and things get sticky.

They don't pick a lover for Vergil, the lore falls apart. They do pick a lover for Vergil, the fans fall apart. There was no way to win unless...

Unless they made the fans his lover.

Suddenly, the unpaid intern jumps up in his seat, tasting the promotion as he shouts out "we don't give her a face!"

Silence. A cough can be heard. A few of the people at the meeting start sweating.

"Don't give her a face?" One finally speaks up.

"Right!" The intern yells "No face! No voice! No personality!"

And suddenly the rest of the meeting room understands as well.

See that's the thing. The Fortuna lady is hooded on purpose. She's silent on purpose. She's given no personality on purpose.

Think about her design. We barely see any of her face except a mouth. Her weight is the most average weight one could program, and if it comes off as thinner than the player, they could easily say she's wearing a girdle or something similar under her dress. Her bust size is average, her height is average. Everything about her is painstakingly average and THAT WAS THE POINT.

LADY FORTUNA IS US AND WE ARE LADY FORTUNA. SHE'S A SELF INSERT DESIGNED BY CAPCOM SO WE COULD IMAGINE THAT WE WERE THE ONES WHO FUCKED VERGIL. IT WAS ALL PLANNED FROM THE START AND IT FUCKING WORKED. THE SICK SON OF A BITCHES DID IT.

"But Jpeg, they did give her a face! See?"

I sigh and pat your head.

"No, my sweet. They made this for the other fans. The ones who for whatever reason weren't attracted to Vergil. Of course they would want some form of "closure" as to what she looked like. To them her face was just another mystery to be solved. Besides, why not put this in the actual game? Why leave it as a single, oddly rendered model, banished to the depths of t-posing hell?"

Because it's not canon. That's the answer. The lady from Fortuna's canon face is our face.

"But Jpeg," fucking Oliver Twist pipes up "She's white. What about all the women of color who simp for Vergil? Wouldn't her skin color defeat the purpose?"

First of all, this is something that's hard to skirt around in the first place. No matter how much you cover up a character, you're going to need to show certain details. Look at any dating simulator protagonist.

They can go for basic designs by making them white and brunette, two of the most common genetics, to try to maintain the self insert illusion, but the sad thing is that at the end of the day, it's just a drawing of a man that is not the player.

Except DMC gets around this because fuck those dating sims. Those are for pussies and children of divorce. Devil May Cry treats you like a 100 IQ individual as it makes it clear that if you want it to be so, the Fortuna woman can just be some random ass lady who thought Vergil's cloak looked sick.

Vergil's real lover could be a whole different lady from Fortuna. One that's any race you wish it to be. Whichever race you are, she is too.

Hell, why stop with Fortuna? Who said you have to be a nun in this universe?! By our and Capcom's, logic, you could be whoever the fuck you wanted! It doesn't matter, so long as Vergil ended up smooshing the whooshing with you! Make it whatever pops into your mind! Are you a pizza delivery girl? Another Devil Hunter? A subscriber to Vergil's Onlyfans? Who knows? Oh, wait! You do!

Lady Fortuna is not a single character, nor does she represent such.

Lady Fortuna represents us, and the power of loving a fictional man beyond rational mind.

Lady Fortuna is us.

We are Lady Fortuna.

Or maybe she's some reused asset idk man it's whatever you guys think.

[aphroditesmoon]

sea, swallow me (part I)

jacaerys velaryon x fem!velaryon!reader

Part 2

summary: when jacaerys finally meets the hidden bastard of corlys velaryon, he loses interests in his betrothed Baela and intends to make her aunt his, but are you really what your family has made you up to be?

warnings: this fic is inspired by the movie 'song of the sea', CANON DIVERGENCE, slowburn, aged up jace (18 yrs old), reader has selective mutism (she CAN talk), reader is 5 years older than jace, selkie! reader, reader's race is NOT specified. cursing, nsfw content in future chapters,typical ASOIAF sexism, typical asoiaf targcest.

A/N: this part is moreso an introduction, the next chapters will have more stuff going on promise<3

taglist: @marytargaryen , @cdragons , @libdarkheart

♧♣︎♧

The day that the rumours of Corlys' Velaryon's illegitimate child was spread by the man himself in vague tell-tales, was the same day that Prince Jacaerys Velaryon was celebrating his third name day.

The skies on Driftmark turned dark by afternoon, a rare sighting of a thunderstorm had appeared. And while every mankind on the land had went off to hide themselves in the comfort and warmth of their homes, an 8 year old child of the seas drifted ashore, she had not drowned, but she knew to act that way as to lead the oblivious guards towards her.

Brought onto land to be passed around to the servant quarters, you fell right into the master of the land himself.

Corlys should've brushed you off, should've sent you right back to the kitchen maids, but the unnerving bravery in your eyes hadn't made sense for a child that was supposedly, probably, had almost drowned due to a shipwreck.

So he took in the sight of you, standing tall, wordless when spoken to, similar even when not. A white complicated looking hugging your body. He is not one to be superstitious, even moreso his wife Rhaenys who had been againts his suggestion the moment it was spoken aloud, but his heart made him halt whenever he even thinks of shrugging you away.

The trusting unknowing look you have for him wasn't helping, you gazed at the life around you in awe, suprise, and even fear at times. So he did what everyone warned him againts, he announces her as his bastard child from a dead noble woman, and them proceeded 1to denounce your illegitimacy, claiming you under the Velaryon name.

The whispering guards and chattering servants could talk all the wanted, for all they knew, the real truth of who you were was uknown to everyone but Corlys Velaryon.

♣︎♧♣︎

Your heart's yearning was divided in two. The calling of the sea, and the wanting of land. You were not as free as you sister Laena nor your brother Laenor, and you weren't given respect as much as they did either, given your known identity.

But you relished the joy of being able to dance on your two feet, to feel water as how it feels to a man, and to see the people in a much closer view.

You don't mind the constant nagging of your maidens as they fuss over your unkempt hair or your bare foots often forgetting their shoes. You asked for this, and you don't regret it. Besides, there was no one there for you in the sea, your kind understood you, they know you, but your mother has left you in her death, and you don't quite crave the grief and loneliness again.

Though now that you've grown, you realise, it was quite inevitable either way.

The day you lost your sister, you thought that was the end of it, but the gods had taken your brother too soon enough. You cried for the first time that year, and you felt what the mortals had written poems and ballads of.

For all of your wanting of more freedom, you were glad to be confined in your room during their funerals.

You would've thought that the passing of her children would make Rhaenys Targaryen more open towards you, but you were wrong. You were greeted with hostility you've never known. The glare she often saved for you reads what others couldn't understand; it should've been you, not them.

Laena's daughter Rhaena had been placed under her care soon, you rarely saw her. Rhaenys' making sure that your paths never cross.

But even with the power she held over you, your father's power proved to overtook hers when he announced that you were to be introduced to society, and to your extended family, for your own benefit and the Velaryon's house, in his own words.

So you locked up your white coat in your treasure box, and you prepared yourself for your first feast, a celebration for your two and twentieth name day.

♣︎♧♣︎

The attendance for your feast was outstanding. The servants had said so, it hadn't been a minute since it started, and the usually empty hall was already half full.

You knew from Corlys' warning, that half of these people aren't really here for your name day celebration, they're here to see if the rumours were true. "Do not talk to anyone I haven't." He speaks sternly. You stared at him blankly, receiving a sigh of realization. "Right, well, don't, warm up to anyone I haven't." He corrects himself.

You nod once smiling thankfully at him before leaving his chambers.

He and Rhaenys would be the first to be announced, and then Rhaena, and then you.

But staring at the large doors hiding what you've heard to be a room full of nothing but hungry vipers, your stomach churns.

You flinch when you feel a set of hands clasp your shoulders gently. It was Rhaena. "Are you alright?" She asks in a hushed tone. You nod your head twice.

She holds you still as her eyes lingers on yours longer than before. "Do you want to walk together?" She asks again.

You don't hesitate to accept her offer, nodding at her question. Please, you almost whispered back. She smiles at your answer and you feel her hands slowly sliding away. "Alright, I'll let grandsire know, don't fret." She tells you soothingly betore making her way to Corlys.

A few minutes after that, Rhaena scrambles by your side as your father and his wife enters first before you, their names loudly announced, as if everyone and their mothers didn't know who they were. Humans are hilarious.

Your hand unintentionally grips Rhaena's as your names were announced after. Her fingers easily intertwining with yours. "Don't smile." She notes quickly when she saw you grinning widely. Your smile died immediately. You walk side by side, your feet trying to move in the same rhythm and steps as hers, and your eyes watching straight at your seated father, staring back at you with a small smile etched on his lips.

You could feel the stares still when you finally reach the table, giving out a elieved sigh as you take your seat by Corly's right, Rhaenys to his left, and Rhaena to your right, hands still clasped together until noble houses are starting to be announced.

You do as you're taught, you smile and nod, and let your father do all the talking.

House Lannister stood out to you most so far. You can't decide if Jason Lannister is arrogant or bad at arse kissing. A person to turn any conversation about themselves

"You are as beautiful as they say." He starts, eyeing you in whole. "Tell me my lady, do you ever envy your siblings that had dragons?" You hesitated, turning to Corlys instead of responding.

"She does not, and the both of us know she would not need one, my dear girl fares better in the sea." He answers for her with a bitter laugh at the end of his sentence, as if shooing the man. "Ah I see, truly a daughter of yours then." The table turns silent. Jason Lannister's own smile dissapear as quickly as it came, realizing his mistake too late.

Your father's lips pursed together, a brow raised as he leans closer to the table. "Yes, she is." The coldness in his voice indicated the Lord of his time to leave. With a quick thank you and honor to meet you's, Lord Lannister leaves.

You hear the man next to you mutter an incoherent insult under his breath, wiping a hand over his already tired face. "People have eyes, Corlys." Rhaenys justifies. "And Mouths." She added, making him groan as House Baratheon are announced. "Oh believe me, I know." He replies shortly, awaiting Lord Baratheon. Thankfully the man was quick, and polite, though you were sure you weren't the only one who noticed how his eyes stayed on your face, a judgmental intent behind them.

But at least he knew not to say anything disrespectful out loud before walking off.

You watch your father's eyes light up for the next house, a relieved sigh escaping his lips. House Targaryen. "Finally, a house with more manners." His wife snorted at his words. "Pretend niceties aren't manners." You feel Rhaena stiffen next to you. "That boldness of yours will get you in trouble one day Rhaenys." He warns lightly, in which she only hums carelessly in return.

You almost laugh at contrast of the white and darkhaired family walking your way. Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, heir to the throne, holds your eyes as she walks nearer. You hae never met your sister in law before, you've seen her through faraway window glances, but she looked at you like she's seen you, like she recognises you.

Her husband, prince consort Daemon Targaryen however, you have met. Once, while he had been staying in Driftmark with Laena during her pregnancy with Rhaena. He saw you leave Laena's room the same moment he was about to enter and spoke your name in a guess. When you turned in his direction at the call, his suspicion was confirmed. What he never understood howerver, was why would Corlys go through many lengths of restricting her from meeting people and hiding her identity?

The court wouldn't have given two shits over another man's bastard daughter. He knows it well enough.

It seemed the question he bore was the same question everyone else wondered, thus why they're all here, willing to feign courtesy and respect towards a so called bastard.

Now he's seeing her again, and it makes things even more confusing. Surely he knows how ignominious she'd feel, being put under the spotlight after 15 years of entrapment. Did he know that this feast was as good as feeding you to wolves? Was that what he intended to do in the first place? Sell you up to the first noble lord willing to take in a bastard Velaryon girl as his wife? And why did Daemon Targaryen cared so much about this girl, when he knows that nothing about her deems worthy of his attention.

Those thoughts ran through the mind of Daemon Targaryen until he's close enough to you that he had to turn his eyes towards Rhaenys' and Corlys' faces instead.

"And where has this lovely dear been all along?" Rhaenyra was the first to speak, greeting the lord and lady of the house properly first. "Ah well, if you had been here more frequent with my son, you could've caught her plenty." He replies easily.

Daemon hummed and bobbed his head. "It's true, I believe this isn't the first time we've met, yes?" He raises a brow at you, a small warm smile painted on his lips.

You responded with a smile that matched his and nodded once. The veracity in your every move made you look like a puppet with strings he's not sure who holds in their hands.

What Daemon Targaryen has not realized yet, was that Corlys velaryon's hands on you were barely a grip. They lead you because you let them. And for a girl who swam her way up into one of the most richest and well known houses of Westeros at 8 years old, you knew more than anyone thought.

♣︎♧♣︎

The dark coloured halls of the Velaryons were lit brightly with gold ornaments and lights. Jacaerys doesn't think he's ever seen much wealth be spent on his mother's own wedding.

The singer hired for the event pauses only for a few minutes before she resumes her orchestral performances. No one pays the music mind of course. The center was you.

He'd kiss your hand and tell you that you had your father's eyes. But that was a lie. His ears maybe, if he squinted closely at yours. He smiled at you and he says the things that he should. It is lovely to meet you. It is a lovely feast. May you continue to age as gracefully as you are now.

And then he walks away and never look back, just as he's told to.

It shouldn't be that big of a deal, or at least thats what he thought. But his mother had given him clear instructions earlier that evening. Do not mingle, do not talk more than you should, the rumours around you sre bad enough. The people will see what they want to and spin those pictures into false stories.

A bastardy affair? Laughable. He's sure the Queen would eat it right off her spy's hands. But still, his gaze on you lingered.

You had an air around you that gave the idea of naivety and carelessness. But he's not so sure if that's the real case here, or are you just so sure in your own sense of self and identity to not fear the men ready to point their fingers in your direction at the first moment they could.

He hopes he'll never see you again after this, his curiosity has always won the best of him.

"She is pretty, though Rhaena's right, you only see how much she resembles grandsire when you're up close. I've met her once, as a child. I don't thisnk we talked at all, but I do remember her gifting me a scarf." Baela's calm voice reached his ears clearly even through the loud chatting and extravagant music.

He raises his head from his food to glance at her. "That's nice, do you still have it?" The girl shook her head and pursed her lips. "No, Rhaena stole it, and then lost it." His face breaks into a grin. "Sounds like her."

He gives another quick glance to your table and looked again when he notices you weren't there. His head moves slowly until he catches the sight of you, standing straight, in front of Dalton Greyjoy. The Red Kraken was what they called him.

Jacaerys could see him speakingas he frowned, glancing from your face to the nothingness behind you as he's deep in his own talking. You were silent, only your eyebrows moved up and down to indicate understanding. He forgets sometimes how some men prefer their women mute.

The Greyjoy boy was waving his hands now, as if an invisible object laid before him. You start to lean slightly againts the serving table and he wondered the same thing you were; when will he stop talking?

"He's a little bit too young to be that pretentious now, isn't he?" Jacaerys says loud enough for Baela and Lucerys to hear him. "He's a year younger than you." His younger brother quipped. Jace frowns. "What? He's 17?" Baela hums in reply. "Doesn't make him any less pretentious." Jace concludes, earning a laugh from both of the people seated by his side. "Ah yes, he's probably explaining how killing people works to her." Baela adds. "I wish someone would tell him how conversation works, she hasn't said a word still." Luc says, the three of the them staring at you now.

"She's mute, Luc." Jace corrects, turning back towards the table, watching as his mother and Daemon make conversations with the other houses. "No she's not, Rhaena said she's heard her talk to grandsire before in one of her letters." The boys' eyes widen. "Then why does she never talk to anyone else?" She shrugs, feeding herself a spoonful if pudding.

A sigh escapes him as he pushes away his plate, his appetite lost. If he'd ask you to talk? Would you? Is that what it was, had no one asked you to talk?

Dalton Greyjoy's face seems unamused as you shook your head at him, his mouth moves once more and his head tilts at you in question, you shook your head again, immediately moving away from him, and straight into Jacaerys' stepfather. The 17 year old took in his defeat and walked away, and Jacaerys watches as Daemon Targaryen speaks so slowly that he can't make up what he's saying fron where he's situated.

You held a steady posture, and your face doesn't give away any reaction, it is stoic, but not cold. "Should I ask her to dance?" Jace suggests. Luc and Baela shares a look of disagreement. "Right in front of our parents? You know we shouldn't get too close to her." He almost doesn't even hear what his betrothed says when he stands up abruptly. "I'm gonna ask her."

Baela stutters and he hears Luc mutters for the love of the gods, as he makes his way to you and Daemon.

He can see his stepfather sigh audibly when he arrives. "Ah, You've met Prince Jacaerys, the heir after his mother, Rhaenyra. Jace, we've been talking of her fondness of the sea, your father said he's only taken you sailing with him when you were 8?" You nod, acknowledging the prince with a smile.

"Then, have you been on a dragon? Surely Laena or Laenor must've offered you a ride once." You shook your head.

Daemon's grin only widens. "Well that only means that you're long overdue a staying at Dragonstone, right Jacaerys?" A nervous laugh leaves the younger man. "Oh yes, I do a bit of uh, sailing sometimes, on my mother's orders. I also have a dragon." He explains, taking in your beauty properly.

"You've seen a dragon up close?" He tries, watching Daemon relaxes as his eyes darts from you to Rhaenyra. Both men are disappointed when you sshook your head, nudging utin Corlys' direction. "He worries to much for you, it is true that getting too close to a dragon for someone without valyrian blood in their veins, is dangerous. But with the right company, you won't have a problem."

You suffer the awkward conversation between the two men, willing for someone to drag you away.

It wasn't that they were rude, or terrible. But you don't think you've ever talked to this much people in your life. Your voice disaappears as it always do, and your usual smile is starting to feel forced.

You were enticed by the idea of travelling to Dragonstone. You've never seen much if anywhere outside of Driftmark, it was boring. But you also knew that the Targaryens are no different from the other houses. They don't offer kindness in return for nothing. And they sure as hell did not see you as family, for you know how much they protect their families.

So why such civility and effort? You could offer no allegiance as a bastard, nor could you even be used as a pawn.

You've blocked out half of what Daemon Targaryen has been saying the past two minutes, eyes still on him, trying to ignore the boy staring intently at the side of your face.

When the older prince finally excuses himself, you were relieved, only to turn around towards his stepson who's been awaiting your attention. "Do you dance?" You shook your head. A dissapointment 'oh' came after. "Do you not know how?" He tries again. The same answer prevails.

You could dance if you wanted to, but you doubted it'd make you feel better. In fact, you're sure dancing with him would attract more attention and not just to you. His mother surely won't be pleased with more rumours surrounding her son. So you give a bow and you leave, walking far away enough until you're sure he's not looking.

But you don't see him watching you barely sit by your father for barely a second before disappearing completely from the crowd. And you didn't see him do the same thing.

[canonmisogynyvictimstournament]

Now that submissions are closed, we can talk stats. There were 881 valid, unique submissions for 474 characters! Woof, women have it rough out there!

The most submitted characters, with a relevant propaganda snippet included, are:

1. Sakura Haruno (Naruto): 28 [where do i even fucking begin]

2. Cordelia Chase (Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel): 21 [OH SO MANY THINGS]

3. Misa Amane (Death Note): 20 [The author of Death Note invented new forms of misogyny just to apply them to Misa.]

4. Kaede Akamatsu (Danganronpa V3): 15 [Oh, you thought we would have a female main character in one of our mainline games? With a cool defining talent, no less? That's stupid of you]

5. TIE: Kairi (Kingdom Hearts): 14 [I'm so mad. I think she deserves a gun.]

5. TIE: Stephanie Brown (DC Comics): 14 [She does eventually get retconned as surviving the event and hiding out in Africa (don't ask, it does not make more sense in context)]

The canons with the most submissions, with a relevant propaganda snippet included, are:

1. DC Comics: 61 [DC has SO MUCH sexism it's laughable]

2. Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel: 35 [Fuck Joss Whedon, man.]

3. Naruto: 33 [because Kishimoto hates women]

4. Warrior Cats: 26 [Warriors is one of the most misogynistic children's series I've ever seen]

5. Danganronpa: 25 [I honestly had to think about it just to decide which woman is treated the worst because this series hates them so much]

The canons with the most characters submitted, with a relevant propaganda snippet for a specific character included, are:

1. DC Comics: 21 [Free her from the huge tits back breaking pose.]

2. Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel: 12 [Anyways she was so hot and for what. 10/10 my lesbian awakening.]

3. Supernatural: 11 [Yeah, she got randomly killed off-screen for shock value and manpain, but she sent an email right before she died so at least her death wasn't in vain, right?]

4. TIE: Star Trek: 9 [She literally gets teleported out of her clothes in one episode.]

4. TIE: Yu-Gi-Oh!: 9 [One loss is particularly brutal as she falls from a large height directly onto her head and goes into a coma (again. yes this was the second time).]

5. TIE: Warrior Cats: 8 [I'm sure she'll get submitted again just ask any reasonable fan they'll tell you about her and her sister]

5. TIE: Attack on Titan: 8 [As a child soldier, she does commit some war crimes]

And here are some charts to show how some of these entries fucked the scale on my charts:

Look at Sakura, fucking up my chart with her numbers.

On a similar note...

Good god, DC, I know what you did, but add fucking up my charts to your list of crimes.

And now, enjoy some rankings of my favorite things:

My favorite universal sentiment quotes from propaganda are:

She lived she served cunt and then she got killed off super early so that the male characters could experience man pain and also because I guess she would have been too powerful if left alive. [Wen Qing (Mo Dao Zu Shi)]

That design. Dear god. I don't want to live on this planet anymore. [Mitzi (The Queen's Corgi)]

In the end she may have girlbossed too close to the sun, but I support her anger. [Ling Wen (Heaven Official's Blessing)]

the victim of “writer doesn’t understand women and also hates them” disease. [Naomi Misora (Death Note)]

She could 100% kill somebody but nobody ever effing lets her. Rip queen. [Kairi (Kingdom Hearts)]

My favorite raging at a writer quotes from propaganda are:

1. You took every single protagonist to weird lion heaven, Clive, but suddenly Susan isn't good enough. [Susan Pevensie (The Chronicles of Narnia)]

2. Being a woman written by Joss Whedon should automatically entitle her to financial compensation tbh. [River Tam (Firefly)]

3. A lot can be summed up in a couple words, namely, "Furman, why?" [Arcee (Transformers)]

4. Can you tell respect women juice ran in Tolstoy's veins. [Lise Bolkonskaya (War and Peace)]

5. TIE: (specifically a guy called Dan Didio, who we all hate) [Stephanie Brown (DC Comics)]

5. TIE: until Geoff motherfucking Johns comes into the picture [Pantha (DC Comics)]

My favorite quotes from propaganda that have nothing to do with misogyny, y'all are just funny:

I wish I could use bold here, because there's no such thing as uppercase numbers. [Arcee (Transformers)]

the most convoluted and lore dense piece of media this side of the afton criticality. [Jane Crocker (Homestuck)]

ended up starting a gang war by accident [Stephanie Brown (DC Comics)]

Ashfur, who later turns out to be a murderous incel [Squirrelflight (Warrior Cats)]

Hawkfrost is actively seeing Brambleclaw and his evil father in cat hell. [Squirrelflight (Warrior Cats)]

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (26)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: mention of sex, incest, smut, angst, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Jace remembered perfectly the day his little sister was born. Laenor had led him into his mother's chamber that day, holding his hand, saying that she was very tired and they couldn't spend much time with her − he had insisted on seeing her because he was delighted to finally have a sibling, a brother to play with and be friends with.

His mother, the future queen, smiled softly at the sight of him, her white hair loose and in disarray, her face red from sweat and exertion.

She held out her hand to him and he hugged her, peering curiously at the infant she held clutched to her chest.

"He's so tiny." He said in disbelief, brushing the baby's finger with his own − he smiled when he saw the baby's hand clench into a small fist with its quiet purr.

"She. You have a little sister." He heard his mother's amused voice; he furrowed his brow at her words and rose, angry and disappointed.

"− wait, comrade −" Laenor called out after him, but he refused to look at her.

She was a disappointment to him.

For the first few months, he had pretended not to hear her cries or squeals from their mother's chamber − even though Rheanyra had spoken to him and encouraged him to meet her, he had refused to do so, recognising that no little girl interested him.

"It was supposed to be a boy." He muttered regretfully while playing with his large, wooden, black dragon, pretending that the stacks of books were the great hills over which he flew on Balerion. His mother smiled at his words and combed her hand through his dark curls.

"That is what the gods have decided. She may be your future wife."

Jace put down his toy, looking at her in surprise, not understanding what she meant.

"Am I going to have to kiss her?" He asked in disgust, recalling the stories Laenor sometimes read to him before bed, in which great knights freed beautiful women from the paws of monsters, only to fall in love with them later and be bestowed a kiss by them.

His mother smiled involuntarily.

"Don't think about such things until you're a grown man. No kissing for now." She giggled, pinching his cheek. He smiled lazily seeing her warm expression, the motherly love that beat from her.

That night he went to the chamber where she slept for the first time; he leaned over the cradle, glancing at her plump little figure wrapped in a white robe and a small headpiece. Her eyes opened suddenly and he was terrified that she would burst into tears − she, however, merely clutched her small feet and began to rock from side to side, looking at him curiously.

He smiled involuntarily at this sight and tickled her belly with his finger. Her squeal and loud giggle answered him, her eyes lit up in joy, her little body all the way up in euphoria. He laughed seeing this, repeating his gesture, thinking she was like a small animal, a puppy or a kitten.

He decided that at the end of the day she wasn't so bad and stopped pretending she didn't exist.

Until Luke was born he had treated her as if she were a boy, driving their mother to despair every time they both returned sodden with mud and sand after another battle with Aegon and Aemond.

He had always felt that his uncles disliked him, and even though they were of a similar age to him, he did not feel comfortable in their company − nor could he hide his jealousy at the sight of their snow-white hair, proof of who they were.

Looking at his father and mother, he could not comprehend why his hair was not that shade.

Rhaenyra explained to him that it was surely because of the Baratheon blood that also flowed through their veins, and although he was disappointed, the sight that he was not the only one, that his sister and Luke looked similar to him, comforted him.

The first time Aegon laughed sincerely at what he said occurred when he called his sister a hamster. The comparison came to his mind when she took air in her mouth and furrowed her brow − he uttered it thoughtlessly, and his uncle burst out laughing and patted him on the back.

"− gods, you're right − and those big eyes of hers −" He sneered, and although he saw that his sister lowered her gaze, embarrassed, he continued, eager to hear more words of praise from his lips.

"− she has just as much sense too −" He added, seeing his uncle throw him an amused, mocking look suggesting that he agreed with him.

He felt a squeeze in his heart when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that his sister had turned and walked away, passing through the cloisters towards their quarters without even giving him another glance.

He turned around and noticed to his surprise that he was not the only person to notice her leaving − his other uncle, Aemond, led her away with his eyes and then threw him a look full of despise, from which he felt discomfort.

He pressed his lips together at the thought that he was the heir to the throne and, unlike him, had his own dragon.

Who was he to look down on him with such superiority?

He decided to remind him of that and share that thought with his brother.

Aegon's involvement in their little joke surprised even him − his uncle thought it was an excellent idea. He argued that his younger brother was too sullen and serious for his age, that he was sapient and could use a little lesson.

As he listened to Aegon convince him that they had found a dragon for him, as he saw the hint of hope and the shy, embarrassed smile of excitement on his uncle's face, he felt for a moment that perhaps they should not do this.

However, it was too late to retreat − Luke ran deeper into the cave, and came out a moment later, leading by a rope a large pig to which they had attached self-made wooden wings early on.

"Behold! The Pink Dread!"

He saw that his uncle froze and turned pale as they burst out laughing, swallowing this humiliation with difficulty − his eyes glazed over and reddened, his gaze again blank and distant.

He knew they had broken him.

That same day he mentioned it to his sister, and her reaction angered him.

"You are cruel." She said resentfully.

Which side was she on?

"He's forever looking down on us because he has white hair. He's constantly making excuses and bragging about what he's read in those silly dusty books of his." He snorted, playing between his fingers with the gold coin their grandfather had brought him from another of his trips overseas.

He blinked when his sister simply rose from her seat and walked out, leaving him in a state of shock and displeasure − he decided, however, that these were just normal female emotions and would surely pass her until supper.

He loved his father, but he also greatly valued and respected Ser Harwin Strong. He was a stocky, tall, handsome man who could fight very well. He often spoke to him or helped him practice by sharing stories of his duels in tournaments and hunts.

He thought then that he would like to be like him one day.

He knew that he was a close confidant of his mother and often saw them together, however, his father seemed not to mind, so he considered this condition perfectly normal and did not bother.

After a few weeks, the will of their King fell upon them like a bolt from the heavens, and their mother informed them of it during one of their suppers together.

"− your grandfather and our King has decided today that, to strengthen our lineage, we will betroth your sister to your uncle, Prince Aemond − let us raise our cups for this −" She said, glancing towards her daughter, his sister smiling broadly at her words, happy.

What?

"− what do you mean? − why? −" He asked, feeling discomfort in his stomach and a cold sweat on his back.

They wanted to gift him his sister as a consolation because he didn't have a dragon of his own?

"− your grandfather wants peace to reign in the kingdom after his death − such a marriage in his eyes will strengthen our family and our bonds between each other − of course, the marriage will only happen when your sister is of the right age −" She said calmly, looking at her daughter with tenderness, taking an unruly strand of her dark hair from her face.

"− did you agree? −" He asked his little sister in disbelief, and she nodded quickly, as if it was the happiest day of her life.

"− yes − I'm very pleased − I'm fond of our uncle −" She said quickly, putting a piece of roast on her plate, describing how worried she was that she would have to marry someone much older than herself.

He stared blankly ahead, clenching his hands into fists, bitter and disappointed.

Had she really never considered him as her husband?

After all, he was her elder brother; in their lineage such marriages were obvious.

He dared not, however, defy the will of the King himself.

His resentment towards his uncle increased with each passing week seeing that, against his wishes, he was not being harsh and unpleasant to his sister − on the contrary, he seemed to have softened in her company, his face, though still pathetically proud, also expressing curiosity and affection.

He felt rage in his heart at the thought that they could really have wished to bring about this marriage.

However, the cup of bitterness overflowed the moment he saw his sister kiss him.

They were both too certain that no one could see them − he watched them from the corridor through a window overlooking the library.

His sister was standing by the bookcase, saying something to him, and he stood up and walked lazily over to her. He rose on his tiptoes and apparently reached for a book that stood too high for her. She smiled broadly as he handed it to her, her hand traveling to his shoulder.

He swallowed hard as her lips pressed against his, and as soon as she pulled away, her uncle grasped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her again, deeper and longer.

He fled to his chamber and burst into tears with rage, dropping all the objects standing on his table, disappointed and humiliated that although he was to become King in the future, someone else was taking away something that in his mind was his right.

He never wondered what kind of love he had bestowed upon her and whether it was the form of affection that usually bound married couples; he knew that he would care for her and be good to her and that was enough for him.

She was his sister and he would never hurt her.

She, however, looked only to her uncle and it was to him that she gave her heart and mind.

He didn't know what he felt when Luke slashed his face that night when their uncle stole Vhagar − horror, shame, satisfaction and relief all mingled in his mind into one.

On the one hand, he was overjoyed that he had taken back what in his mind should have been his, on the other he was embarrassed and distraught at the confirmation of his fears that had long smouldered in his mind.

It was Harwin Strong who was their father.

To his seed he owed his dark curls.

He was a bastard.

He tried to turn his thoughts away from considering what this meant for them, focusing on the fact that his sister would surely no longer want her uncle for a husband, and their paths would part.

This is exactly what happened.

Still, what he had planned did not happen, and his mother decided to change her plan and marry her off to their cousin, Lord Arryn's son, to strengthen her support in the North of the kingdom. Again, he felt a wave of disappointment, however, this time he was not so jealous − he knew that she had no love for their cousin and that he was certainly no threat to her.

"What's my little sister doing?" He asked with amusement, startling her completely, sitting bent over her desk − she quickly grabbed the parchment she had just been writing something on and tucked it under the table, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Are you writing a letter to someone?" He sneered, raising an eyebrow, standing over her with a smile. She swallowed hard and looked down, thoughtful.

"I write poetry. But I don't want anyone to read it." She muttered, and he sighed quietly and nodded, acknowledging that he wasn't going to force her to do anything.

"Would you like to go for a walk along the beach? It's beautiful weather." He encouraged her; she, however, shook her head, no longer bestowing a single glance on him.

"No, forgive me. I'm tired."

He pressed his lips together at her rejection, which he had faced again and again since they had moved to Dragonstone.

Even though he tried to get close to her, to understand her and comfort her, she still didn't want him.

He was ashamed to speak of his feelings with his mother or stepfather, much less Luke, however, to his surprise, his closest confidant turned out to be Baela.

"I don't understand her. It seems to me that she still misses him, even though he has certainly forgotten her by now. I have heard that he is a cold, vain, self-obsessed man. He's always been that way, treating her only as an object, a consolation prize. Now that he has a dragon he doesn't need her." He said angrily − his cousin sighed heavily at his words, looking at him with understanding.

"When people part in anger and don't close a chapter, it's hard for them to move on. Perhaps she knew him in a way that is unknown to us. He's always been withdrawn into himself." She muttered disapprovingly, fiddling with the wine cup in her hand, gazing thoughtfully into the blazing fire.

He smiled at the thought that he was certain she recalled the impetuosity with which her uncle had punched her in the face with his fist that night when he lost an eye. Baela looked at him, raising her eyebrows.

"What's that look?" She asked and kicked him under the table with her foot. He giggled at her reaction and shook his head, lowering his gaze to her fingers.

"I would have been better for her. I would have really cared for her. Maybe I wouldn't have given her everything she needed, but at least with me she would have been safe." He said with a tiredness from which his companion sighed heavily. He lifted his gaze to her as her hand grasped his and squeezed it.

"I know." She replied softly.

He swallowed hard, feeling a pleasant warmth in his lower abdomen as he saw her soft, misty gaze, feeling her warm thumb stroke his palm. He grunted as he felt his manhood pulsate in his breeches at the thought that, indeed, his cousin was a very fine woman.

He had always liked her sharp tongue and confidence.

"Have you ever lain in bed with a woman?" She asked him suddenly, and he drew in the air loudly, shocked, feeling that his cheeks had certainly turned red with shame.

He didn't know what to answer.

He didn't want to humiliate himself with words that he had absolutely no experience in these matters knowing that she had a more liberated approach to these affairs.

Daemon, as her father, had expressed no dissent, so who was he to lecture her?

She sighed quietly, seeing his reaction, or rather lack thereof, and rose from her seat, turning her back to him, gripping the ties of her bodice with her hands.

"I need you to help me."

Baela was a calm and patient teacher − it seemed to him that she took great satisfaction in his lack of understanding of what she was actually doing to him as she sank down on his swollen manhood again and again with a moan of delight − her brown naked skin glistened wonderfully in the light of the blazing fire, her white curls falling over her shoulders in disarray, her full lips parted in obvious desire from which he felt his fulfilment approaching embarrassingly fast.

She made sure he didn't fill her with his seed, letting him instead come down on her abdomen with his low moan of pleasure, his length pulsating and twitching in her hand for a while longer. He licked his lower lip dry with emotion, looking at her in disbelief, a soft, shy smile on her face.

"− you're beautiful −" He whispered, and she giggled under her breath and kissed him in a way from which he felt hot in his heart.

She made him forget, at least for a moment, what was happening around them, finding in her both friend and lover, the confidante of all his secrets.

She was not jealous of his sister − on the contrary, he had the impression that she understood the source of his anger and disappointment, herself having no intention of explaining to him what she was doing and with whom.

It seemed to him that their relationship and its freedom suited them both.

Of course, they both knew that in the end they would experience a marriage that would inevitably be purely political, and they understood what that entailed.

Then their grandfather was injured on one of his expeditions, and Vaemond Velaryon challenged his younger brother's rights to the throne of Driftmark.

Knowing the truth about his parentage and at the same time refusing to accept it, he became enraged, sad and depressed at the same time − Baela's words of comfort that they would find a solution and not allow themselves to be intimidated did not reassure him.

Once again, his uncle and his family were trying to take their inheritance from them.

His return to King's Landing was a shock to him; to his disappointment, he felt like an intruder there, and it seemed to him that was exactly how he was perceived by everyone.

He felt a drop of cold sweat run down his neck, his stomach twisting with discomfort when he saw his uncle in the distance, wielding his sword as if it weighed nothing, easily defeating Criston Cole, pressing its blade against his neck.

He was tall, muscular, his long white hair, proof that he was in fact a Targaryen partly tied at the back of his head with a black ribbon, his jaw long and sharply defined, his gaze wild and cold, terrifying.

He smiled mockingly at the sight of them, playing with the hilt of his sword between his fingers as if he wanted to devour them.

He felt ashamed at the thought that he was terrified.

And then his uncle spotted their sister in the distance − his heart beat harder at the sight of their expressions.

It seemed to him that this reunion years later had caused them pain, as they both froze, breathing heavily, looking at each other as if there was no one else around.

His uncle hummed under his breath and turned away, nodding at Ser Criston, taking another swing with his sword.

Even though he hadn't cared what happened to her for so many years, even though he had humiliated her at supper by calling her Lady Strong, she had confessed in front of everyone that her place was with him.

He looked at her in disbelief, wondering what she was doing, why she had stooped to courting him when it was obvious that her uncle had neither respect nor affection for her.

After a moment, he heard his uncle's cold, trembling, deep voice.

"So it is decided, father. We will marry."

"How could our mother agree to this? How could she let her stay there?" He asked furiously, circling around his chamber in Dragonstone; Baela sighed heavily, turning her head away. She looked at him finally, hesitation in her gaze.

"I didn't tell you because I knew it would only enrage you and you wouldn't leave her alone." She said tiredly − he halted in half-step, looking at her over his shoulder, feeling his heart pounding like mad.

"You didn't tell me about what?" He asked dryly, frustrated and concerned.

Baela let out a loud breath, shaking her head. They were now betrothed, and although he thought they both seemed to have accepted their families' decisions with relief, he couldn't rejoice.

"My father told me that she had been sending him letters all these years. That the same night we arrived in the Red Keep she spent the night in his chamber."

He stared at her dully, feeling that it made him sick to his stomach, as if he were about to vomit, his face taking on an expression of disgust.

So she didn't write any poetry then, he thought with regret and pain.

"− how could she do this − expose our mother to humiliation and gossip −"

"Jace. She never stopped loving him. I think she's naive too, but you'd have to be blind not to see that she never really accepted it all. I don't know what I think about it myself." She admitted, running her hand over her face.

"You don't know what you think about it? I'll tell you. Our uncle will play with her and take advantage of her, and then he will put her up to ridicule and hand her over to us. He won't marry her." He growled angrily, burying his face in his hands, wondering how she could be so foolish, how she could believe that he had sincere intentions about her.

"The matter of succession is on a knife-edge. Perhaps our grandfather is right? A union between our mother and the Queen could really ease the situation." She muttered, clearly looking for anything comforting in the situation, which he completely failed to understand.

Had everyone around him lost their minds?

"My uncle who thinks we are bastards is supposed to alleviate the situation? He will never agree to let me sit on the throne and I am supposed to give him my sister?" He asked in disbelief; Baela tightened her lips at his words, frustrated.

"You speak of her as if she were an object. It's always been that way."

He felt an unpleasant shiver run down his spine at her words, every muscle in his body tensing like a string.

"What do you mean?" He asked coolly.

Baela sighed heavily, clearly trying not to explode and form her thoughts so as to be honest but not cruel.

"You think she was born to fulfil your whims? That the fact that you are her eldest brother gives you precedence to lie in bed with her?"

He felt himself blush with shame at her question, shocked.

Discomfort and arousal surged through his lower abdomen at the thought.

"Do you think that's what I mean? I'm just trying to…"

"Yes, Jace. I've never witnessed you ask her how she feels, what she needs. I am fond of you, but you are a selfish boy, not a man."

He felt ashamed at the thought as tears gathered under his eyelids at her words, a terrible, cold shudder shook his body, his heart began to pound like mad.

You are a selfish boy, not a man.

Her words so offended him that he stopped speaking to her despite her pleas, and then the thing he feared most happened.

The King was dead, Aegon had stolen her mother's throne and his uncle had imprisoned his sister.

They had made a mockery of them.

He had been right all along, but no one listened to him.

"Forgive me, Jace." Baela muttered, placing her hand on his shoulder. She knelt beside him, sighing heavily, laying her head on his thigh, and he involuntarily stroked her hair, feeling superiority, feeling strength.

He was going to fight for his mother's crown and bring his sister home.

In order to do so, at the behest of their mother, he flew to Winterfell to ask Cregan Stark for his support in this cause, reminding him of the oath his father had taken before her.

The North seemed to him a beautiful and wild place, so far from what he knew − the snow-covered hills, the austere fortresses of dark stone, the robes that looked only grey, black or brown around him gave him a sense of modesty and space.

Lord Stark's nature appeared to be similar to his, and the few days he had spent in his company hunting and riding horses had actually made him feel good − he felt like someone worthy with him, a true heir to the throne, not a bastard.

It was this feeling that, seeing the young Lady Snow from afar, he allowed himself to be enchanted by her charms and lay in bed with her.

Like a real man.

When he arrived back in Dragonstone he learned that Luke had just returned from Storm's End and that he had seen their sister.

"You flew after him? You flew after him knowing he could imprison you, use you as your mother's weakness? Fucking fool." Growled Daemon, shocked and horrified by his naivety, burying his face in his hands, unable to look at him.

"Daemon." Their mother rebuked him, all pale, her hand clenched on her womb. "What happened next?"

"He brought her. Someone hit her, mother, and I think she tried to take her own life. There were cut marks on her wrists." His brother muttered, and he felt his heart stop, he and Baela looked at each other quickly.

She had tried to take her own life.

Because of this bastard, his sister could be dead.

His hands clenched into fists at that thought.

"And then?" Pressed Daemon in an impatient voice.

"I told her to run away with me, but she didn't agree. She told me to tell you that she loves you and that she remains faithful to you, mother." He mumbled and he slammed his fist on the table, feeling fury and rage boiling up inside him.

"That fucking bastard purposely made her stay. He planned this, he never had any intention of marrying her!" He growled red with anger − Daemon threw him a single, drawn-out look.

"And then what? He let you just walk away? No one else saw you?" He continued, pretending not to have heard his outburst.

"N-no, I was surprised, but no. Forgive me, I had to see her, make sure that she is still alive." Luke said. Daemon sighed heavily and leaned over, placing his hands on the top of the stone table, thoughtful.

"Bring me a parchment and a quill. I need to speak with my nephew."

Baela followed him into his chamber in an attempt to calm him down.

"How can he want to pact with that fucking traitor? His brother stole my mother and his wife's throne!" He shouted in her face − his betrothed dropped her hands in a gesture of helplessness.

"Since he let them meet, maybe there is something to it. My father knows what he's doing, I trust him. I believe he will bring her home."

"You're naive. You always have been."

"And you're vain. You always have been."

He pressed his lips together at her words, feeling his heart pounding like mad, feeling like something was about to explode inside him.

"I met a woman in Winterfell who I took to my bed." He muttered finally, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

Part of him wanted to hurt her, and part of him wanted to be honest with her.

That was what they had promised each other.

Baela laughed at his words in disbelief and shook her head − he had a feeling he saw a shadow of regret in her gaze, but he wasn't sure if it was because of his confession or because she understood why he said it now.

"If you wish, I'll relate to you how I spent my time in your absence, but I'm not sure you'll be able to look into this guard's face afterwards." She sneered, lifting her chin high, looking at him defiantly. He felt a wave of hot shame and anger surge through his body.

"After we're married…are you going to continue this?" He asked uncertainly and she cocked her head to the side.

"If you are not faithful to me, I will not remain faithful to you. You are dear to me, but don't think I will cry for you. Certainly not like your sister cried for her uncle. Part of me has always envied her that she experienced such a deep feeling in her life even if it burned her from the inside for so many years." She said with a kind of regret from which he felt a squeeze in his stomach, but he answered nothing to her words.

He knew that they did not love each other.

They were close and felt comfortable together, but they weren't mad about each other.

He believed it just had to be this way.

He waited impatiently along with his mother and the others gathered for Daemon to return from his meeting with their uncle, simultaneously terrified and angry that they were speaking with traitors instead of fighting.

When they heard the squeal of Caraxes in the distance his mother stood up, pale, holding her hand on her womb again, as if remembering the time when she had carried her only daughter under her heart.

His other sister had died before she was even truly born.

When Daemon stepped into the main hall everyone was already waiting for him; he sighed heavily, placing his Dark Sister on the table top, folding his hands in front of him, straightening.

"Your daughter married her uncle of her own free will. My nephew has conveyed to me that his brother-cunt will relinquish the throne he stole from you if it is your daughter's children and his who become heirs to the throne or, in the event they do not conceive a son, ours − Viserys and Aegon. He demands the exclusion of Jace, Luke and Joffrey from the succession." He said dispassionately. He looked at his mother seeing that she had run out of words.

"− mother − this is −"

"− leave us − all of you −" She ordered.

"− mother − this is my inheritance − mine −" He began, but felt Baela's grip on his arm.

"− Jace − that's enough −"

He sat in his chamber thinking only of the fact that his mother was just contemplating whether or not to agree to deprive him of his inheritance, to acknowledge that he was her bastard despite the fact that he was her firstborn son, despite the fact that Laenor Velaryon had acknowledged him as his heir.

"− Jace −" Baela muttered, seeing his condition.

"− leave −" He said. He heard her sigh heavily as she approached him with a rustle of her gown, kneeling at his feet.

"− Jace − I'm on your side − I always have been − don't you see me as your companion? − your friend? − your lover? −" She asked with a pained expression that startled him. He lowered his hands and looked at her − his palm rose to her cheek, which he stroked with a tender, slow gesture.

"− you resent me − you don't see me as a man, but as a child −"

"− that is not true −"

"− I don't want your pity −"

"− Jace −"

"− you were right − I don't want to frustrate you and I understand all the accusations about me that you've made − my whole life I've been trying to be someone I'm not −" He finally replied, his betrothed's fingers grasping his hand and squeezing it.

"− that's what I mean − stop pretending − be honest with yourself −"

"− do you want me to be honest? − very well then − my mother has never asked my opinion on any important matters − Daemon treats me as if I am an imbecile and mocks me − I am both a first-born son and a bastard − my uncle wants to deprive me of everything, he wants me to be a nobody and why? − because when I was a child I gave him a pig? − god, I regret it, it was a cruel joke − I regret that he lost an eye, I regret that a dragon didn't hatch from his egg − but even if I had said that, what good would it have done − he would have laughed at me saying I am a weak cunt −" He muttered and burst out sobbing like a small child, hiding his face in his hands. Baela embraced him and cuddled his face into her oil-scented neck, stroking his hair.

"− I am grateful to you − I am grateful to you that you are honest with me − I am grateful to you that you have never lied to me −" She whispered and he wept softly, tightening his hands on the material of her gown feeling that the closeness of her body brought him solace.

"− I am grateful to you too − forgive me for not being what you deserve −" He mumbled, sniffling loudly, trying to calm the convulsions of his body and his ragged breathing.

"− I forgive you − I forgive you and ask for your forgiveness −"

When his mother came to his chamber that evening, he knew what decision she had made even before she opened her mouth.

"− Jace −" She began, and he turned his head away, panting with rage, burning tears of humiliation under his eyelids.

"− after all this − after all you've sacrificed − are you going to let them win? −"

"− how would I be a just Queen if I thought only of myself instead of the good of the kingdom? − any other solution will mean war with our own kin − is there anything else more displeasing to the gods? −" She muttered in a breaking voice in which he could clearly hear that she herself was suffering immensely.

"− you let them dictate their terms −" He said in disbelief, looking at her at last. His mother pressed her lips together at his question.

"− no − I intend to impose my own demands on them – none of them will be allowed to sit on the throne − none of them will wear the crown − they will be rulers-regents until their son, the rightful heir, is born −" She replied, forcing herself to be calm.

"− and if no son is born to them? − will you exclude me from the succession then? − your first-born son? −" He mumbled in pain, hitting his chest with his palm. Rhaenyra drew in air loudly, her eyes red from tears of pain and grief.

"− it's my fault − not yours − me and Laenor really tried, but −"

"− I don't want to hear it − I won't listen to it − why did you let me come into the world? −"

"− Jace −" She mumbled − he heard the rustling of her gown as she took a step towards him, but he held up his hand showing that he didn't want her to come near him.

"− I will leave Dragonstone to you − it belongs to me and I can give it to whomever I wish − no one will challenge your rights in this case, you will finally be able to live the life you deserve −"

"− I was meant to be King −" He hissed, and she swallowed hard.

"− as was I − but perhaps we are not meant to be − pride steps before a fall −" She said drily, her chin lifted high.

"− what does Daemon have to say in the matter? −" He asked lowly.

"− he is furious, but he will do as I command − just as you −"

[do-u-know-this-autisticcharacter]

Do You Know This (non-canon) Autistic Character?

Propaganda

This post which says:

He only eats fish (mackerel) ("You like mackerel too much" is a running gag)

He loves water because of the way it feels (sensory seeking)

He's the only one who sees a difference in his swimtrunks (he likes some better because the way they feel/they fit differently) (hyper sensitive sense)

His special interests are swimming and mackerel

When trying to convince others to swim, he mimics the way he thinks you should do it (with no regard to social cues) (masking)

Limited facial expressions (unless it's about swimming)

He doesn't care about swimming time, records and winning

He has a set routine

"I only swim free."

Is often seen providing support by sitting quietly beside people // or engaging in a conversation with his back turned to the group.

Tendency to give entities human feelings ("Maybe the water hates him" // "I thought I should ask water about matter that involves the water.")

Appears blunt but cares deeply (asks outright if people are okay /// "we're not going to discuss it (about something another character finds uncomfortable)" // gives things freely to children)

Straightforward

Takes his promises very seriously

"He's actually looking at the camera for once."

"Knowing Haru he probably doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now."

Trying to understand his feelings through thinking // struggling to name feelings

He never uses his phone // doesn’t bring it with him // "Haru usually doesn’t carry his phone around with him."

He remembers small things about his friends and then gifts really meaningful gifts

When he knows how he feels he shares his feelings openly and without shame (and with an abundance of eye contact used to drive home his sincerity)

He notices people when they're sad // really perceptive // notices differences in behaviour (pattern recognision)

"You're supposed to smile for pictures." // "Haru is always smiling on the inside."

My man does not care about social norms (is always ready for a dip, no matter where he has to strip).

"I don't care about winning," (i love this boy)

"You're too easily impressed, Haru-chan." (Once again, I love him)

As kids Haru sometimes wouldn’t talk, and instead Mokoto would "translate" how he felt (i almost cried 😭)

"You're so cold," (i hate this)

He litterally just went to Australia because Rin asked him to without knowing the language + without doing any planning just trusting Rin– and then felt panicked when he thought Rin left him (... I once went to Italy with a girl because she said she wanted to and I didn’t get that it was meant to be a joke... until we were already in Italy and she told me she it was a joke but she was glad I took it seriously. She planned everything and I just followed along because I trusted her. Rin also said he didn’t expect Haru to agree, so yeah. I don't know)

"It was my first fight (with him)" (relatable dude)

"Hey, c'mon. You could look a little happier... But I guess that reaction is typical Haru." (Seeing someone for the first time in a long time)

"That’s really impressive," Haru says. "Hey," someone else says. "You're supposed to laugh at that!" (Once again, relatable dude. I don't get the joke either)

"What did you talk about?" *Haru answers truthfully* *the other person makes noises of disbelief*

[mallorykeen]

that's season one over so here's my favourite pjo fics to fill the void with!!!

don't forget comments and kudos!!! and here's my pjo fic list if anyone is interested also

i've done my best to track down the blogs of the writers but i couldn't find all of them (if there are more) so please tell me if you know yk

>1k

bled into me

Ares has never forgiven anyone for stomping on his heart, but you think you’d let Silena Beauregard trample all over yours. (ruegard)

The Sebastian Figure

He never thought he'd end this way, in the airy throne room of Mount Olympus, with the sun shining and the birds singing and everyone standing in a crowd waiting for him to be executed. AU, post-TLO; Luke's POV.

A Family Resemblance

People can say that Percy really is Poseidon’s son considering how alike they are, but to him Percy will always be Sally’s son.

Children of the Sea

As he sank through the water, Percy grimaced, clutching at the wound in his abdomen that was spreading his blood through the water. There was far too much of it and the water wouldn't heal him in time he knew, but at least he would die in the peace of the water. He hoped that Hades would let him into Elysium after everything he had done as a hero.

1-5k

light blue nail polish (and blood-stained nails) by @tragedykery

first: Charles and Silena have a picnic. then: Silena after Charles' death.

would you mind my hand stitched onto yours

Clarisse meets Silena and struggles with her feelings.

So Eden Sank to Grief by @cauldronoflove

Clarisse had always wanted a chance - and wanting a chance seemed to mean that she wanted battle.

There's No Dying in Dodgeball

University dodgeball is a very serious sport. No, really.

ruegard university au

They Lied about Oxygen

It's like they're the polar ends of magnets.

rachabeth, and a lot of kissing

If I killed someone for you (Would you love me more?) by @izzymrdb

Luke succeeds in killing Percy with the Pit Scorpion, but now he deals with the physical spectre of his guilt haunting him. Driving him insane.

like diamonds in the sky

“Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.” – Alfred Lord Tennyson —eye to eye, so alive/we're beautiful like diamonds in the sky; zoë in greek, means life.

take me to your best friend's house

Katie Gardner tilts her head. “I feel like he’s always hiding something from us.” “That’s why his tail is so big,” Silena Beauregard says, nodding very solemnly. “It’s full of secrets.” Or: Camp Half-Blood and the Mortifying Ordeal of Playing Spoons.

can't gamble the future

“Wait,” Beckendorf says, confused. “What does Connor have over Percy?” Luke sinks back into his chair. “Well, where do I begin―” “Five drachmas he mentions that one time Annabeth hugged Connor,” Thalia mutters to Silena, tossing a few gilded coins onto the center of the table. “He never shuts up about it.” (CANON DIVERGENCE ― The senior counselors don’t bet on trivial matters like childish, puppy love romances. No. Not at all. Of course not.)

Sweeter Than Cherries

Sweeter than cherries, better than Flash Gordon, and being in love with your best friend is never easy. (percabeth)

a hero's fate by @katiegardner

“I have had many sons,” Poseidon said. “Perseus is my favourite. Do you understand this?” “Yes,” Annabeth said. “He will be a god.”

Greek God (Good God) by @izzymrdb

Percy turns down immortality again. And again. And again. The gods never stop asking.

Green Ribbon

After the war in The Last Olympian takes place there is a lot of loss to be dealt with (ruegard)

Hunger on Her Lips by @starforged

Silena comes to convince Clarisse to return with her, but it ends as she imagines it would. Takes place during The Last Olympian.

Her Armor by @disregardcanon

No one can escape their destiny. Fate is written. History rewrites itself, and no man can escape it. Neither can a woman.

death is the road to awe by @callunavulgari

The first time you meet Silena, you shove her head into the toilet. You laugh at her as she struggles and you don't even have your brothers with you this time, no need for backup. She's just another silly Aphrodite girl. When you finally let her up, she's bright red and heaving for breath, a wet lock of dark hair hanging loose against her forehead. The first thing she does is clock you in the face, teeth bared in an ugly snarl. It's a good punch, so you grin at her and punch back.

She Does

She says 'I don't want this' but she does, she does, she does. (ruegard)

stay close, hold steady

“I can’t have you take care of us forever.” Poseidon and the three times he associated the word ‘marriage’ with Sally.

Bittersweet, Irresistible, a Crawling Beast

Again love, the limb-loosener, rattles me bittersweet, irresistible, a crawling beast. -Sappho After exploding a volcano, Penny Jackson wakes up on an island with only one other inhabitant, and she leaves with a better understanding of herself and her relationship with her best friend.

empty hearts on fire

Luke Castellan knows, from the very beginning, that he is going to die.

Le Morte d'Arthur

[“I’m like the Greek King Arthur,” Percy says. The slur to his voice and the flush to his face make Poseidon wince. Percy smiles, vague and hazy. “King,” Percy repeats. “Of course, little king,” Poseidon says tenderly. He is weak enough to curve a hand around a cheek, framing wan features. Pale, bloodless skin leached of all vitality. The water laps at Poseidon’s legs. No waves dare to form as Poseidon cradles Percy in his arms. He does not want to let go.] Or, wherein, others begin to fill in the void of Percy Jackson.

Packed and Petrified by @art-in-the-sunlight

In the lightning thief, Percy Jackson defeats Medusa and then promptly sends her decapitated head to the greek gods. When the olympians got a package “best wishes percy jackson," Zeus probably said something along the lines of, "At last, my bolt! Finally, your son admits to steali-" and then gets turned to stone for like five seconds.

5-10k

popsicles by @chironshorseass

AU were everything’s the same except Percy was never born out of Sally Jackson’s womb. And now the camp never lets him forget it. Where do babies come from, anyway?

(part one of those cruel summers series which is just lovely percabeth stuff. go read all of it. now)

Winter

It is winter when Zoë Nightshade first comes to her. She is a young girl, -by looks at least- yet an old soul, dark eyes shining with wisdom, and Artemis immediately feels a sort of kinship towards her. She looks, lost, and dangerous, and yet despite that she is the most beautiful thing that Artemis has ever seen. And she loves her, she loves her, even if she doesn't know why yet. (part one of winter and everything after which is some amazing zartemis stuff)

Sand Dollar Child by @withay

There's far too much divinity in Percy Jackson. It oozes from him, to the point where he's sometimes mistaken for Poseidon. Percy doesn't know this yet. All he knows is that this nereid is asking to borrow five drachmas.

10-30k

The End of Days

Percy tries to adjust back to normal life. It turns out, sometimes the calm is louder than the storm.

road trippin' by @chironshorseass

California, here we come. grover, annabeth, and percy and their roadtrip to california

Three and a Half Stars

Food is terrible, decor tasteless, weekend shifts seem to correspond with the onset of natural disasters??? Serving staff is pretty great, though, overall 3.5/5 would probably go again p.s. is tipping sand dollars standard now or is the creepy, semi-regular customer just crazy? percy's a waiter. he meets some gods

Home Is Where You Hang Your Hammer

A collection of moments from Frederick Chase's point of view following the day his daughter Annabeth runs away from home.

i'm lucky i'm in love with my best friend

The one where Percy and Annabeth were best friends who fell in love, and everything is absolutely perfect as they make their way through the most important moments of their adult life. That is, until it's not. Percabeth one-shot, AU

Percy Jackson, son of Sally Jackson by @izzymrdb

But we needed the help of a clear-sighted mortal to lead us through the Labyrinth and there’s nobody else we knew of that would agree to. Other than my mom - Sally Jackson.

Of Storms and Bloodlines

When people thought of Poseidon they thought of the sea; Poseidon, Lord of the Seas, Commander of the Waves, the Stormbringer. Upon consideration they would add Earthshaker, for catastrophic events such as earthquakes were hard to forget. Few remembered, however, that Poseidon was also Lord of the Horses. Stormbringer and Earthshaker tended to squeeze that one out. Percy had been able to talk to horses for as long as he could remember. He liked to think he understood them. Although he's not entirely sure why the new stallion thinks he's its foal. Poseidon is not jealous that Percy thinks a horse makes a better father figure than himself. At all.

30-50k

the sun stands

Everything has a price and invulnerability is expensive. (percy, percabeth and chronic pain)

Trading Tomorrow by @loosingmoreletters (and Darkmagyk but I couldn't find the blog)

Percy Jackson arrives at Camp Half-Blood bruised and bleeding, with the knowledge that he's the son of a god and his mother is dead. His little display with the Minotaur has caught the attention of the camp. But he’s not sure it is good attention, yet. Only the Hermes Cabin's not-quite Co-counselor Theseus, ‘call me Theo,’ doesn't treat him like a fascinating zoo exhibit. Which would be a relief, except he looks exactly like Percy: same green eyes, same trouble making smile, same black hair. The only differences are the fact that Theo is six years older, covered in battle scars, and the black tattoo on his arm. A trident and the letters SPQR. Theo is eighteen, powerful, and unclaimed. And his resemblance to Percy could set a dangerous precedent.

Hold the hand of the god-child

Percy Jackson needs to die. Zeus knows that, and as his plan to kill him on Olympus is voted against, he finds another solution: there is a god after all, whose presence around his son Poseidon doesn’t suspect. Dionysus is ordered to kill Percy. He hides him instead, and everything changes.

50k+

The Marble King

Constantinople, 1453 After the fall of an empire, Perseus, son of Poseidon, and Annabeth Fredriksdotter, daughter of Athena, must put aside old rivalries if they are to survive in this strange new world. Medieval/Renaissance AU.

apistéō

Percy was 12 when she was told she was a demigod. It happened on her last day of 6th grade after a very boring and very ordinary year, so maybe that’s why she sees her divine family members as the true monsters of the world.

Oh Yeah, No, I Totally Forgot

Amphitrite really had only gone to that particular beach to see if there was something special about it. To see if the surf was softer, the wildlife nicer, if the nymphs were maybe prettier. She needed to see if there was a reason Poseidon went there so often. But the stretch of sand she’d come to was truly pitiful, it wasn’t anything special or different, it was in fact boringly empty. Or it was meant to be empty. A small child stared up at her with big green eyes, a mop of dark curly hair, and an armful of various colorful buckets and a tiny shovel. Oh.