#also the whole point is nobody should be on the throne but also that bastards aren't less than by virtue of their birth
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People who advocate for Alicent taking Lucerys' eye and actively say Rhaenyra's kids were less worthy of the throne for "not being pure Targs" or being bastards... Do you hear yourselves???
#hotd#asoiaf#i'm sorry but this really irritates me#and i keep seeing takes like this#you're really gonna to subscribe to a fucking psuedo-medieval worldview rn?? that's your plan???#aemond losing his eye was an accident that resulted from a fight between kids that dangerously escalated#(not to mention it was a fight he started by insulting laena to her daughters ON THE DAY OF HER FUCKING FUNERAL)#but it was kids being kids until a weapon one of them should never have had (but did bc the setting) got involved#very similar to the situation on the trident in agot#yeah lucerys should've been punished BUT TAKING HIS EYE?? ARE YOU INSANE?#i say this as someone who loves the scene of alicent charging with the knife bc she just snaps but she's so clearly in the wrong for that#also the whole point is nobody should be on the throne but also that bastards aren't less than by virtue of their birth#i just want nuanced discussion of media again is that too much to ask?
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Okay Aelin’s plan at the end of EOS was complete bullshit for so many reasons, all of which can be lumped under 3 larger categories.
1) Probability of success during the war
This is limited, as they mentioned in the books, but Lys’s ability to trick people into thinking she’s Aelin lasts about as long as it takes for them to need her fire powers. The point of pretending Aelin was alive was to help morale and keep the bad guys from learning that she was out of the picture, but if your supposed “fire breathing” savior queen doesn’t show a single spark of power, even when a battle turns dire, that’s arguably worse for morale and does nothing to rally the people. Martyring Aelin & saying she died arguably would’ve been a better choice for this purpose.
Strategy is a huge part of war. Someone like Aelin, with magic as powerful as hers (especially bc of how effective a weapon fire was against Erawan’s forces), would be treated as a battalion all her own. War strategy relies on knowing every player on the board, every move that needs to be made. Generals (like Aedion) are factoring Aelin’s powers into a battle (how it’s fought, chances of success, etc) which means innumerable deaths and devastating losses when that power doesn’t show face. It’s actively harming the war effort — imagine if you thought you had a nuke but then it turns out your strongest weapon is a nerf gun and nobody fucking told you…
2) Aedion & Lysandra’s involvement
Was Aedion justified for how he treated Lysandra? No. Was he justified in being that angry? Yes. Lys knew what she was getting into, understood the sacrifices she was making to execute Aelin’s idiotic doppleganger plan, but nobody told Aedion. He was going to have to sleep with Lysandra just for his goddamn genetics like some prize cattle and, in one fell swoop, lost the woman he loves and cousin he should have sworn his life to. It’s also implied in EOS that he has some sexual trauma in his past, having slept with people to move up Adarlan’s ranks as fast as he did, which makes the role they expect him to play even more fucked up. Lysandra’s essentially sacrificing her entire life and any possible chance at the happy ending she wants(which, btw, I can’t fathom asking of anybody, but at least she agreed to do it on her own…I guess)
3) The likelihood (& morality) of continuing the deception post-KOA
This entire plan moving into the future hinges on some weird ideas about genetics. Yes, the “Ashryver traits” seem to be dominant and there’s a high chance of Lysaedion’s children looking like Aedion… but if they don’t? What then, pass them off as bastards? That would mean they don’t get the throne. It’s also pretty well established that magical abilities follow the same heritability as physical traits but neither Lysandra nor Aedion has magic that could be passed off as a child of Rowan/Aelin. The best case scenario is that the kids inherit Aedion’s lack of magic and it’s all seen as some cruel joke from the gods, that the offspring of two such powerful magic wielders didn’t get any of their parents’ abilities. The worst (and most likely) case is that the kids turn out to be shape-shifters and they’re still written off as bastards…so they don’t get the throne.
The other problem with putting a false queen on the throne lies in the fucking morality of it all. Aelin’s whole claim to the throne relied on divine right (or some fantasy version of it) and the idea that people who are born to a throne have the inimitable right to rule. Darrow had the right idea in QOS when he told Aelin that she didn’t have the proper upbringing to be a queen, to rule a country, and her only argument against him was “weLL iM AeLiN aShRyVEr gaLAtHyNiUS.” As though that means anything in terms of all the knowledge, temperament, and responsibility required of being a GODDAMN QUEEN.
So if Aelin deserves queenhood purely because of circumstances of birth and blood, what are they achieving by putting a lowborn shapeshifter and her illegitimate children on the throne? Does that not go against everything that was supposedly so important? It seems more like Aelin only cares about the appearance of herself/her family sitting the throne of Terrassen, which is fine as far as writing an interesting character goes, but that’s a sinister kind of corruption that should be acknowledged for what it is. If she truly wanted what was best she would let Darrow and the other northern lords lead it (or at least put Aedion on the throne working with them) because they were the ones helping Terrassen through those ten horrible years and they have the power and experience to bring the kingdom back to its former glory.
SJM writing a plan that was so clearly not going to succeed is lazy writing. She knew it didn’t have to be a foolproof plan bc she knew Aelin was going to survive & be rescued (duh) but the fact of the matter is, an author’s actions and thoughts become the characters’ actions and thoughts. To make such a poorly-thought out plan then to present it through the narrative as some kind of genius move on Aelin’s part is…bad writing. It’s just bad writing.
#update: I wrote a fic dealing with this whole issue/how I think in-character aedion & lysandra would've reacted#find me @wxlves on ao3#sjm critical#anti sjm#the way Aedion treated Lysandra also felt horribly ooc for him#and the way Lysandra just took the abuse was also ooc#but what do I know I’m not the author 😶
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[Warning: Long ramble ahead]
I have been thinking about Poseidon for an entire day, and not in the horny way. Much as I love to hate him, if I’m going to write about him, I need to know what makes him tick, right? There’s not much to work with if you look on the surface (seriously, I screenshotted and reread his chapters many many times, this twinky blond’s surface personality is almost as flat as an ironing board).
This all stemmed from me exploring whether or not Poseidon would have affairs. And someone else reminding me that canon Poseidon would not (again, thank you, you know who you are). The answer to this?
It depends. haha thanks law school No, but seriously, I think I have gotten a grasp of his personality, hear me out if you have the time.
How does Poseidon actually function?
If he deems himself to be perfect, what does Poseidon actually do after all, since almost anything could be demeaning for him to do? Author has left us with a few things to work with that he won’t do or associate himself with, and instances where he acted out upon facing them:
Schemes and betrayal - Adamas schemed against Zeus (outcome: Poseidon killed him)
“The herd”/Support - The crowd cheered for Poseidon (outcome: no deaths, but he gave them a death glare and insulted them)
This could possibly extend to more, including protecting his reputation as the “perfect” being, the god of gods (”GOG”).
But if we go along those lines… why did he even show up or participate in Ragnarok? Did Poseidon sign himself up? A tournament of this level could easily be interpreted as scheming too. That, and now he has to perform in front of the other gods, who he called a “useless bunch of bottom feeders”. Excluding the fact that the Author called him in as a champion (or Zeus, if we want to get cheeky), why did he agree to become one? He’s so perfect, he shouldn’t have to waste his time fighting humans, right? Why does he even care to attend anyways? Is it to watch their demise, which, again, they’re so trivial for a perfect being like him, so he shouldn’t give a shit about it anyways? Is he a repressed god who enjoys fighting like Thor, Zeus, and Shiva? We don’t get the impression he does, because Poseidon has never even had to try his hand at fighting someone better than him; he literally just one shot Adamas and that was it. Poseidon could have just turned down being a champion -we know he’s the most feared god, and nobody dares question him, so actually, nobody would have said anything if he decided not to. The audience didn’t even know he was fighting, so really, he didn’t stand to lose anything if he didn’t participate.
Here’s what I think. He participated because he knew he was strong, and he thought he could make a point there about how insignificant humanity is. His arrogance was further boosted by Thor’s crushing defeat of Lü Bu, and Zeus’s defeat of Adam (who was considered mankind’s trump card too). If they can do it, so can he, because he is the GOG.
What if he’s just doing things to prove a point? It’s very childish, yes. But so is the way he talks and behaves (I play a MOBA, and he sounds like all the trashtalkers I’ve ever met “ur trash uninstall game n00b” <3). He is like a teenager that has taken it upon himself to go through that “Nobody understands me” “I’m better than everyone” phase for all eternity.
Take having an affair for example. As pointed out, affairs can lead to a weakening of his divine reputation, and also, vulnerability. These are things Poseidon would be loath to fall for. So... no affairs? Not necessarily. The gods had tons of affairs. Zeus is literally depicted as a lecherous old man, so there is no way he was not having any of his own as well. With the exception of best boi Heracles, Ares, and Hermes (counting those we have seen so far), I think all of them would have had at least one, one way or another.
BUT, is being lustful contrary to being perfect? And if you successfully resist said lust, does that place you above everyone else? Yes, and yes. And how does Poseidon see himself?
Perfect. Above everyone else. The GOG I can’t not use this term, it’s so pretentious to me. On the topic of affairs, this would actually mean he deems himself impervious to lust as well. Poseidon would do it just to prove that he can, that he is fully conscious of himself, to prove that it’s just sex, just libido management to him, that he alone is capable of having an affair and emerging unscathed (this is childish, Poseidon is stupid).
WHICH NOW BRINGS ME TO THIS.
Why, for the love of the gods, is Poseidon like this?
Apart from the Author just writing him like so, I do believe there are certain underlying factors contributing to his trash personality.
In Greek mythology, Poseidon was not always satisfied with Zeus’s rule. Though he was not overly jealous, he did attempt to overthrow him once or twice. Homer’s Iliad even mentions that Poseidon has schemed to bind Zeus, along with Hera and other fellow Olympians (think Adamas gathering everyone to do it).
Poseidon in Ragnarok is never mentioned or shown to be jealous of Zeus; however, this does not exclude him from resenting that he did not become the king of gods. Zeus is their younger brother by order of birth (not counting the second birth), hence he should defer to the older brothers. It’s likely Poseidon thinks the same, there’s literally no evidence he is even loyal to Zeus other than him directly ending a plot that would overthrow Zeus by killing the source of dissent. All he says is that Adamas has defiled everything they stand for a bit harsh, man. Self-projection, maybe? The only difference between them would be that Adamas has chosen to take action and gathered everyone else to do it, while Poseidon just sat there and sulked about it. Then he takes it out on Adamas for bringing it up to begin with.
I really believe this would resonate with Poseidon. If he’s that good, that perfect, the GOG, as they call him, why then was he not made the king of gods? Does it make sense for the GOG to not... become the… GOG? Underneath the entire “gods are perfect we need no one, gods don't need to scheme, gods don't need betrayal, bla bla” spiel, all I see is an entitled bastard salty geddit that he didn’t get the throne despite the fact that he never fought for it, simply because he thinks he’s so good it should have been handed to him on a golden plate instead of it going to Zeus.
And when Sasaki pinpoints what he has not done, he gets even more tilted than a player whose match just got thrown, and winds up throwing his own match. Because even though Hermes mentioned that “the true depths of the ocean god remain a mystery even to his own kind”, someone who has lived life to the fullest like Sasaki can easily call him out on his bullshit. Which he of course becomes absolutely incensed at. Sure, he's played by these rules for eons, but if a person has been that way for so long, they would simply be confident and shake the insult off. Why then, is Poseidon so angered by Sasaki's statements? It's simple. After so long, someone has finally seen through it or dared to call it out after seeing it. The gods might not have, since they all believe they're perfect (re: Zeus, "such are the gods"), but a human certainly would.
Killing Poseidon can essentially be simplified into this:
Passion vs apathy (not empathy, again, it is 7am)
Action vs inaction
People you actually want in your life vs toxic people you don’t (I’m kidding, but seriously)
Overall,
Poseidon is a hypocrite and is so self-absorbed that in his own world, he plays judge, jury, and executioner.
“Perfect” this, “perfect” that. The whole thing is an act, ocean man is a sham. Poseidon excuses away his actions by insisting that perfect beings do not need to do such things. Then he goes and does them, but picks apart other people for it. After Adamas attacks, he becomes history erased from the books -hello, this is another scheme between yourself and Hermes, what about gods not needing to scheme? On top of that, doesn’t killing your brother count as betrayal anyways?
Anyways, yes, he’s stiff, he’s trash, I would not wish meeting / dealing with him upon my enemies, but he is a very nice challenge as a writer to try and pick apart his character.
#snv poseidon#poseidon record of ragnarok#long ramble#it's 7am#i didn't sleep because of this#i spent a whole day trying to figure it out#i feel like sasaki reaching the bottom of the abyss
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Diabolik Lovers GRAND EDITION for Switch ;; More, Blood ー Yuma Maniac [Prologue]
Monologue
ーー I could not get the concept of a livestock’s pride,
out of my head.
Since I became one of them, some time had passed.
Compared to the other kids my age, I had a large frame,
and my battle skills weren’t all too shabby either,
so whenever a fight broke out,
I more often than not found myself by Boss’ side.
That day, I ended up finding out
about Boss’ secret.
Opposite to the fear I experienced at that time,
afraid of getting kicked out of the group,
Boss actually began to pay even more attention to me.
No, it was something slightly different.
Unlike before, it seemed as if Boss,
was seeking support from me.
While chowing down on the food he acquired through his secret activities,
we would talk about the most trivial things.
It was such a simple thing,
yet I came to realize that only during those times,
a pressure seemed to be lifted off Boss’ heart.
That is when I first found out.
That even Boss had a hard time,
burdening everything by himself.
It is so obvious when you think about it.
No matter how reliant or amazing of a guy he may have been,
in the end, he was still a young boy.
Boss was not much older than me,
he was still just a child after all.
However, even when I thought of him that way,
my respect for him did not falter.
If anything, knowing he still lived strong despite that,
I admired him.
ー The scene starts with a flashback in the city
*THUD*
Gang member A: Ugah...!
Bear: Ahーahー ...Can you guys not even read a calendar? Ah? I thought we decided we’d settle the score in three days?
See? As you can tell, this message was delivered from you guys’ boss to ours. He was even kind enough to attach a knife with it.
So why are you two here to try and strike while I least expect it? (1) What’s the meaning behind that, huh? You wanted to meet me that badly?
Gang member B: ...Because we have a bone to pick with you! We wanted to at least get one good hit off on you before you all get wiped out!
*Swoosh*
Bear: Wiped out, you say!?
*THUD*
Gang member B: Uguh!
Bear: You really think our whole squad would get wiped out by you little punks? Just how highly do you think of yourself?
Gang member B: ...Heh, hahaha!
Bear: Disgusting. Whatcha laughing for?
Gang member B: Nobody expects it. And that’s exactly why we aimed for those three days.
Bear: Ah...?
Gang member A: Oi, don’t say any more! Let’s go!
Gang member B: Che, guess we’ve got no other choice...!
*Rustle*
Bear: ...Hold it!
ー The other gang members run away
Bear: ...What do they mean...?
*TIMESKIP*
Lucks: ーー The day has finally come.
Once the morning dawns, we’ll go settle the score with those guys. Anyone under the age of ten remains here. You’ll be in charge of protecting the hideout until we return.
Everyone coming with me is all ready to go, right?
Comrade A: Yeah!
Comrade B: More than ever, Boss! We’ve set everything up perfectly for today.
Lucks: Don’t overdo it. Lately the military has been patrolling the city as well. They’re not the kind of guys you want to get involved with.
Bear: ...
Lucks: Oi, Bear? Are you listening?
Bear: Eh? Ah, yeah. What?
Lucks: What’s wrong with you? You look so gloomy. With you looking like that, it’ll affect the spirit of our team!
Bear: My bad...Say, Boss. Shouldn’t we think this over one more time?
Lucks: You’re still saying that? Are you that worried about what they said?
They all talk big like that, no? It’s basically a greeting at this point.
Bear: That’s true but...I have a bad feeling about this. For some reason, I feel restless...
Lucks: Hehe...Bear, you might excel in terms of your built and physique, but you’re more of a coward than I thought.
Bear: Boss! I am seriouslyーー!
*Rustle*
Lucks: Don’t worry. Nothing bad will happen.
We’ve been in plenty of fights up till now, right? However, we always came out victorious.
And if we defeat those guys today, we will finally stand at the very top of this city.
In short, we’ll have conquered the very bottom layer of this country. Do you understand what that means? It’s the first step towards our ‘dream’.
We’re not out to kill each other or anything. Well, I’m sure some blood will be spilt regardless.
We might call each other the enemy, but we’re actually also comrades living in the same place. The real threat are the rich, not them.
Despite everything, I like the kids living here. They’re headstrong, genuine and strong.
Which is why I won’t let them fight ever again once I reach the top. I’ll start by changing my own surroundings like that.
Bear: ...
Lucks: Besides, I’m here for you guys. And so are you all for me. How could we possibly lose?
Bear: ...Yeah, you’re right.
( He’s right. I’m sure this is all just my imagination. ...But you know, Boss. )
( I still have a bad feeling about this. I know that there’s just no possible way we lose, but there’s this uneasy feeling in my chest... )
( ...Please let it just be my imagination. )
Monologue
...Back then,
if only I had stopped Boss even by force,
would he have...would everyone have,
possibly survived?
In those filthy quarters, wearing dirty clothes,
but eating the same food,
as we all became adults together...
...I wonder if Boss,
would have been able to fulfill his dreams...?
ー The scene shifts to another flashback in the city
Comrade A: ...What...on earth is that...?
Comrade B: A tank...!? From the army...!?
Bear: ( ...Those bastards! They really planned to set us up after allーー!! )
Military member: An armed gang has been spotted. We can assume they are a rebellious group as stated in the information we received. Commence suppression!
Lucks: ! You guys, ruーー...!!
*BANG BANG*
Monologue
ーー We were children.
Despite calling this a fight,
somewhere inside our hearts,
we believed it to be impossible to lose our lives in just a kids’ quarrel.
I’m sure that the thought of their comrades dying, their Boss dying,
or even themselves dying,
did not even cross their minds.
Before the overwhelming force in front of us,
we were utterly powerless.
Bear: ...
...Boss...Hey...Open your eyes...
Aren’t you the one who said...I’d have to watch you till the bitter end...?
But you never told me it would be like this...! ...Damnit...!
Military member: ーー A survivor has been spotted. Kill him.
*BANG*
ー The flashback ends as the scene shifts to the kitchen
*Rustle rustle*
Yui: Ah, Yuma-kun! Geez, you’re searching the fridge again...Dinner will be served soon, you know?
Yuma: I’m hungry right now. Actin’ all high and mighty tryin’ to lecture me, huh, Sow?
Besides, it’s ‘cause ya always take forever makin’ our meals.
Yui: ( I started on it as soon as I got back from school, so rushing me any more would be... )
*Rustle rustle*
Yui: ( Ahーah... Today he’s going for a whole package of sausages... )
Yuma: ...
...Oi.
Yui: Yes?
Yuma: Who’s that dude from the other day?
Yui: Eh?
Yuma: That NEET on the staircase.
Yui: Staircase...Aah, you mean Shuu-san? He’s the eldest son of the Sakamaki family. Sakamaki Shuu-san.
Yuma: ...Do ya think I’m dumb? (2) I obviously know that much!
Yui: T-Then why did you ask?
Yuma: This prey really doesn’t get a hint...Is yer head completely empty or somethin’, aahn!?
I’m askin’ what kinda dude the eldest son of those Sakamaki bastards is!
Yui: What kind...?
( He basically wants to know Shuu-san’s personality? Hm... )
A listless...person, I guess? To put it simply.
Yuma: Haah? That isn’t ‘simple’ at all.
Yui: But if I had to put it some other way...He always seems exhausted, for example...?
I’m pretty sure his only interests are music and sucking blood. Also napping.
Yuma: Haah...He’s an actual NEET. (3) Anyway, and that guy’s the eldest son? It pisses me off how those on top are always too lazy to do anythin’.
...No, I guess that’s exactly why he’s like that. He can get his ass on the throne just by sleepin’ after all. Whatever. What else?
Yui: There’s also...Don’t ask me about the details, but I heard he went through quite a lot in the past...
Yuma: ...The fuck? Did he almost get himself killed or somethin’?
Yui: Like I said, I’m not quite sure eithーー
*THUD*
Yui: Kyah...!
Yuma: You do know, don’t you? Ya had them wrapped ‘round yer lil’ finger with that body of yers, didn’t ya? Ah?
So don’t tell me ya don’t know their secrets.
Yui: I’ve told you before, I never...
*THUD*
Yui: ...!
Yuma: Oi...I don’t think you’re that stupid but, you’re not tryin’ to cover for those bastards, are ya?
Yui: Cover...?
Yuma: Aren’t ya hidin’ all and any information which could put them at a disadvantage from us? Aahn?
Okay...Listen up!
Right now, you are our livestock and my toy. In short, we are yer owners.
If ya dare betray us ーー I will kill ya. I’d mess ya up real good, we could actually feed ya to the pigs and cows once I’m done with ya. (4)
Yui: ...Uu...
Yuma: ...Heh. You’re just gonna stand there quietly, shiverin’ in fear again? Ya really are so borin’.
Just don’t betray us then? As long as ya can do that, I can look past minor slip-ups.
‘Course, I have a limit. If ya make too much of a fuss...
ー Yuma grabs hold of her
Yui: ...! What are you doing...!?
Yuma: I’ll teach ya while I’m at it. What kind of punishment would be waitin’ you, that is.
Well? I’m pretty sure yer body is already used to this, whether ya like it or not.
ー He bites her
Yui: ...!
Yuma: Nn...Phew...
Yui: ...Nn...!
*Rustle*
Yui: ( Ah...! )
Yuma-kun...! The pot! The stove is still on...
Yuma: Aahn? Who cares ‘bout that crap? Just keep still!
Yui: No! If it boils for too long, the noodles will become overcooked and it won’t be good...
Yuma: ...Che, pasta out of all things? I can think of at least one person who will throw a tantrum if that happens.
Yui: If you understand, let me go...!
Yuma: Won’t do. If ya want me to stop that badly, then try and stop me yerself.
Yui: No way...!
( How should I do that when he’s holding onto me with his full strength...!? )
Nn...Nn...!
Yuma: Hehe...Do ya really think ya can slip free like that? You’re basically just shiverin’.
Don’t overestimate yerself too much, ‘kay?
‘Cause you’re the one who will end up regrettin’ it in the end...
Yui: ...!
*TIMESKIP*
ー The scene shifts to the dining room
Kou: ...What’s this...? I don’t want to eat this mushy mess!
Yui: I-I’m sorry, Kou-kun. I was going to boil a new batch, but we ran out of pasta...
( I got yelled at as to be expected... )
Kou: Then please give me a reward instead.
Let’s see...Fufu, I’ll forgive you if you let me suck your blood, okay? Say, what do you think?
Yui: W-What I think...?
*Thud*
Yuma: If ya continue spoutin’ that bullshit, you’ll be takin’ one hefty blow ‘gainst that face you’re so damn proud of!
Ruki: Yuma. We’re in the middle of our meal.
Azusa: Don’t worry, the pasta is safe...Hey, Yuma...You can hit me instead if you’d like?
Yuma: Ya stupid!?
Kou: Geez~ What are you getting so upset for? I was just messing around a little. Joking is what we idols do! (6)
Yuma: Do you see me laughin’!? As her caretaker, I’m obviously the one who has to blame her whenever she messes up! Don’t try and take my job!
Yui: ( Actually, it’s Yuma-kun’s fault the pasta overcooked in the first place... )
( Speaking of which, I wonder why Yuma-kun asked about Shuu-san earlier? )
ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー
Translation notes
(1) Yuma uses the word 寝込み or ‘nekomi’ which literally implies that they tried to attack him ‘in his sleep’. However, I think this is meant to be taken less literal in this case, but refers to the fact that they were expecting an attack in 3 days, so they could have been caught off guard.
(2) Literally he says ‘are you looking down on me/are you underestimating me?’ but ‘do you think I’m dumb’ sounded better in this context.
(3) A NEET stands for a person who isn’t in education or training, implying that they don’t work but aren’t currently in school either. They have a very bad reputation for being ‘lazy’, simply wasting their life away at home, sitting at the computer, watching TV, etc.
(4) Yuma says he would mess her up so badly, she could actually become ‘food for livestock’ by the end of it.
(5) In Japanese, the expression for overcooking noodles in Japanese is ‘麺が伸びる’ or ‘men ga nobiru’ which literally means ‘the noodles will stretch’, referring to them being too plump/soft because they cooked for too long.
(6) Kou calls it an アイドルジョーク or ‘Idol joke’ which isn’t a term I’m actually familiar with. I do know that idols in Japan appear on TV quite often and a lot of those programs are geared towards comedy, so I assume having a decent sense of humor is a must if you want to be a Japanese idol. xD
→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!
<- [ Dark Epilogue ] [ Maniac 01 ] ->
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You Belong With Me - Chapter 29
AO3 | First | Previous | Next | Masterpost
Description: Much to his surprise, after being released from prison for a crime he didn’t commit, Logan has been appointed as a the prince’s new advisor.
Word Count: 7826
Chapter Warnings contain major spoilers so they’re at the end! Scroll to the bottom and check them if you need to! Thanks :)
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“What?” Logan’s blood ran cold as his friends exchanged a glance and fell silent. Virgil's casual statement hung heavily between them as his friends sheepishly avoided his gaze. His breath caught in his throat as Patton took a step back, crossing his arms across his chest as he leaned back against the wall.
“I did tell you we would discuss this at some point.” Patton finally looked up at him with a faint smile. Logan stared, watching Patton as he anxiously tapped his fingers on his forearm looked up at Logan. “Are you sure you want to hear this story, kiddo?”
Logan eyes flitted to Virgil, catching his tired stare. The serious expression on Virgil’s face gave him pause and he hesitated as he turned back to Patton slumped back against the wall behind him. Logan chewed on his lip. Curiosity burned in his stomach, but he forced himself to mentally take a step back. His expression softened as he watched Patton take a long breath. “Are you sure you want to share, Patton?”
Patton lifted his eyes from the ground in surprise, arms crossed tightly around his waist. He dropped his gaze once more, considering the situation. It was a long moment before he looked up at him again, trembling as he spoke. “I—I want you to know, Lo.”
“That's not clear consent to proceed, Patton.” Logan smiled patiently. “It's okay. We don’t have to talk about this now, Patton. This can wait until—"
“No. I, uh—” Patton shook his head as Logan stopped abruptly. “I'm okay. We can talk about it, but I need a moment, kiddo. I'm sorry. I just—”
“Patton—” Logan started to stand and move to Patton, but a hand caught his wrist. He turned back hesitantly as Virgil’s weak grip pulled him back on Patton’s bed.
“Give him space.” Virgil whispered hoarsely, barely looking up. “Just sit down with me, L.”
Slowly, Logan allowed Virgil to pull him down next to him. Still casting worried glances over his shoulder at Patton, he tried to focus on Virgil. He felt the heat of shame in his cheeks as he caught Virgil’s worried gaze. “I didn’t mean to upset anyone. I only—”
“You’re good, L. He wants you to know.” Virgil softly rested his hand on Logan’s shoulder. “That doesn't make it an easy subject to talk about. He'll talk when he's ready. Just focus on me for a bit, okay?”
Logan cast one last glance at Patton before turning to nod slowly at Virgil. The subtle sounds of Patton breathing behind him gave him a small amount of solace as he focused his attention on Virgil.
“For context, L, he may not look it but Patton is actually a few years younger than Roman and I.” Virgil paused, tiredly sifting through the details. “I'd barely been of age for a few months when Patton first visited the city. I mean, I was young when all of this happened but Patton was only—What twelve?”
“Thirteen.” Patton mumbled, slowly moving towards the bed. Logan watched his absent expression as he turned and lowered himself onto the far side of the bed, facing away from them.
“Thirteen.” Virgil spat venomously. His face twisted with disgust as he continued. “At the time, the royal family was playing host to the representatives of a dozen or so countries for some peace talks. The whole affair was set to last a week and the halls of the castle were absolutely filled with an insufferable number of nobles and royals looking to be the most important person in the room.” Virgil paused, scowling as he continued. “Patton’s bastard of a father was a king from a island country just off the southeast edge of our borders—"
"Patton's a prince!?" Logan nearly spun his head around to face Patton, but Virgil caught his shoulder.
"Focus on me, L."
Logan paused and nodded, embarrassed he's forgotten Virgil's command so quickly and hoping he hadn't further distressed Patton.
"Good." Virgil paused, blinking as he tried to focus through his exhaustion. "He was attending the event as a guest of the crown and he requested an audience with Roman. I was watching from afar, but honestly, every royal in the world had their eye on Roman so I didn't think much of the request. At the time, Roman had only been of age a year or so, and a lot of countries were trying to gauge the temperament of the current heir apparent to the throne.”
Virgil paused, looking at Patton as he hesitated to continue. Logan couldn’t help but follow his gaze to Patton sitting at the edge of the bed staring blankly at the ground as he listened to them. “Now usually—” Logan reluctantly looked back to Virgil as he continued, swallowing back the urge to move closer to Patton. “—in these meetings, Roman would happily entertain his guest for a few hours. Even back then, princey could really lay it on thick with his charm, but this guy? He was in and out within the hour.”
Virgil took a long breath. His eyes drifted away from Logan as he recalled the memory. “That was the first indicator I had that something was wrong. Princey had invited him back to his personal chambers. I'd watched as him enter the room with Patton and his father, but sometime later, Patton's father came out alone. Red flags were going up in my mind, but the bastard was blocking the door and Patton and Roman were both still inside. I was watching intently at that point, but eventually Roman came out a few minutes later. He stopped for a moment to talk to the guy and everything seemed alright. Patton’s father went back in the room. Roman turned to me, and—” Virgil paused, looking up at Logan. “—I've never seen princey look the way he turned towards me in that hallway. He was absolutely livid. No one but princey was supposed to know I was following him, but I don't think he hesitated even a second to march straight over to me and drag me into one of the empty corridors. Once, he’s settled enough to talk, he asked me to kidnap the kid that was with him. So, later that night, I did.”
“Just like that?” Logan raised an eyebrow.
“He said he didn’t have time to explain, and he was right. A long conversation with him would have drawn attention to what he wanted me to do.”
Logan raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Didn't you hide out with Patton for a while? Surely, your sudden disappearance would have been noticed?”
"Not back then." Virgil shrugged, resting his arms on his knees as he leaned his head back into the wall with a yawn. “Thomas wouldn't allow me to take on the full responsibilities of my position until I turned eighteen and I wasn't knighted until a couple years after that. Nobody really knew who I was then. I think the only person besides Roman who noticed was Thomas. He could have been a problem, but Roman convinced him I was visiting a family member, which admittedly, wasn't far from the truth anyway. Besides, at that point, no one thought a scrawny kid like me could slip past the gates unnoticed, let alone smuggled a kid with me.”
Logan stopped, looking up at him. “How did you smuggle him out without raising an alarm? When you snuck me into the castle, we went straight past the guards. You said that was the only way.”
“It is.” Logan smiled, noticing some of the color come back into Virgil’s face as he grinned knowingly at Logan. “I had some help from our friends from the other realm.”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “The fae helped you?”
“Just one fae.” Virgil ran his fingers through his hair. “Snarky bastard but they're reliable when I'm in a pinch.”
“Who are they?”
“They're one of my contacts in the city. A shadow fae.” Virgil leaned forward with a glimmer in his eye. “Kind of a piece of work when you try to talk to them, but I wouldn't hesitate to trust them with my life.”
Logan’s lip curled down as he hesitantly looked to Virgil. “You don't worry they may use their power against you?”
"No. Just because he has power doesn’t make him dangerous." Virgil’s sharp smile softened. “I mean princey could ruin me if he chose to, but he doesn’t have it in him either. Why should it be any different for fae?”
A tentative smile curled on Logan’s lips and he nodded at Virgil. “So, this fae helped you get Patton out of the castle?”
“I didn’t stand a chance without them. They manipulated the shadows to hide Patton while we slipped through the gates.” Virgil nodded, leaning forward with a smirk. "We walked right past the guards and they were none the wiser."
Letting his gaze drift over shoulder to Patton and he took a deep breath. “And you did all of this to get a favor from Roman?”
Virgil smirked, tiredly slumping back into the wall. “Honestly, I would have done it solely because princey asked me to, but he offered to give his oath before I even had a chance to get a word in edgewise. If I did this for him, he owed me a favor. Anytime, anything and I couldn’t resist having one over on princey” Virgil chuckled with a mischievous smile. “I rejected his oath, but I accepted the favor, and I'm glad I did. I never really intended to call in that favor, but I don't know how I would have kept Roman quiet that night we told him about Remus, if I hadn't.”
“I am also very grateful for that. I don't know how I would have made it through telling Roman, if he'd been allowed to continually interrupt me.” Logan smiled fondly. His mind drifted, lost in thoughts of the prince as he looked over at Patton hanging his head. “Still, that's a big ask, Vee. You could have been arrested and held for who knows how long.”
“I trusted Roman,” Virgil shrugged. “and in the end, it was the best decision I ever made. He was right to get Patton out of there.”
“Why—” Logan paused. He swallowed a painful lump in his throat, hesitating to ask the question hanging over their heads. “Why did Roman decide to, um—”
Virgil smiled weakly as Logan’s voice trailed off and his gaze drifted to the ground. He stared past Logan to catch a glance at Patton, staring absently down at his lap on the end of the bed. Biting his lip, he reluctantly put a hand out to Logan. “Perhaps, now isn’t the time to—”
“Virgil—” Patton started, barely looking up at him before trailing off. “I can—"
“It's okay, Pat.” Virgil reassured him as Logan glanced back over his shoulder. “There’s no pressure for you to talk about it, and I don't want to put words in your mouth about what happened. So, let's just—
“No.”
Virgil paused at Patton’s sharp reply. “What do you mean ‘No.’?”
“I mean no, Virgil.” Patton looked up at him and Logan watched as took a breath, releasing the tension in his body. “He has no power over me now and I'm not going to give it to him. I can talk about it.”
Logan started to feel a pit of guilt begin to gnaw at his stomach. “Patton, I don't mean to pressure you.”
“You’re not, Lo. I want you to know.” Patton turned his head towards them for the first time and smiled faintly at him. Slowly, he moved across the bed and pulled his legs up to sit cross-legged facing them. He let out a long exhale before lifting his gaze to Logan. “I told you before that my parents were not good people. I'd like to think they weren't always this was, but greed had skewed their view of the world long before I was born. It was all I'd ever known of them—” Patton sighed, letting his gaze drop to the ground. “—I may have grown up surrounded by wealth, but there was no illusion that I was ever a part of that world. I was simply a means to an end, not their child.”
Logan watched emotion build on Patton’s face and his chest tightened as he watched Patton continue.
“My parents never laid a hand on me, but there was no love in that house. They controlled everything I did. I was instructed on what to wear, what to eat and even what to what I said. They groomed me to be the perfect da—” Patton’s eyes flitted up to Logan and Logan watched him pause, carefully considering his words before continuing. “—I was obedient and quiet—” Patton let out a long breath. “—or I didn't eat.”
Logan felt like he had swallowed gravel as he stared in horror at his friend. He leaned forward but Patton nervously waved him away. He paused watching Patton cross his arms tightly across his chest and his gaze drop nervously to the ground. A movement in the corner of his eye caught his gaze as he watched Virgil rest a hand on Patton’s leg. Logan couldn’t help but smile subtly as Patton glanced appreciatively at Virgil. The contact served to ground him, and after a moment, he turned back to Logan to continue
“Everything about my existence was controlled and calculated. I had no control over my own body, Lo,” Patton breathed. “I felt like I was living outside my own body watching someone else’s life go by. Affection was something I hardly knew growing up. I didn't even think I was worthy of being loved. So, I took back control the only way I knew how.”
Logan chewed on his lips nervously as Patton avoided his gaze. The implication of Patton’s words burned in his chest. The idea that someone could hurt someone as kind and gentle as Patton so thoroughly that he’d hurt—but perhaps—clarification would be best before he jumped to a conclusion. He looked up at his friend with a gentle look in his eyes. “Patton, what does that me—"
“Hold on, L.” Logan stiffened as Virgil interrupted him. Uncertainly, Logan relaxed back, watching Virgil’s soft smile as he stretched his arms out to Patton, inviting him closer. “Come here, Pat.”
Redness dusted his cheeks as he watched Patton lift his head and scoot across the bed to slide in next to Virgil, curling under his arm. Logan uneasily slumped back, guilt building in his chest as tension left Patton's body and he tucked his head into Virgil’s chest. “I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t apologize.” Patton reached a hand out to him and Logan hesitantly took it, releasing his breath gratefully as Patton’s fingers curled around his own. “I appreciate that you care.”
Logan's grip tightened on Patton’s hand and he looked down at him. “I really do, Pat.”
“Thanks, kiddo.” Patton paused, smiling faintly as Logan squeezed his hand. Logan frowned as Patton shrunk back into Virgil’s arms. The smile on his face felt empty, his last defense against the thoughts in his head. “I was self-destructive, Lo. I wanted to hurt myself, but doing that would only have made my father stricter, so—” Patton’s eyes flitted up to Logan’s cautiously. “—I had a lot of accidents.”
Logan felt a sudden lump in his throat. “Pat—”
“Nothing serious, Lo.” Patton lifted his head as he squeezed Logan's hand. “It-it was never more than some bruises—or cuts—” Patton’s voice cracked and his head dipped and flushed with shame. “—T-The pain brought me back to my body for a while.”
Logan tightened his grip on Patton’s hand as he looked up. He slowly eased himself up to Patton’s other side. Patton tensed as he slid down next to him. Logan paused, waiting patiently until Patton nodded. With Patton’s affirmation, Virgil eased his arm around his shoulder, allowing Logan to lean into Patton's other side. He wrapped a hand around Patton’s waist and Patton let out a sigh, the gentle pressure of his friends at his sides grounding him in the moment. His tension eased as time passed, sinking into warm comfort of the arms around him until Logan finally broke the silence.
“The bruises. Is that—” Logan whispered, chest aching with empathy for his friend. “Is that how Roman knew what was going on?”
Logan felt Patton shift uncomfortably between them, holding his breath for a moment before slowly releasing the air from his lungs. “No, that's not how Ro knew.”
Logan’s gaze drifted up as Virgil’s arm wrapped tighter around Patton and Virgil looked over at him. “By the crown's order, the children of the royal family are neither allowed, nor expected to entertain suitors until they’re twenty years of age. At the time of the peace talks, Roman was nineteen. He was within months of being old enough to be courted and half the countries in the world were waiting for him to come of the right age to make a move. Our kingdom holds considerable power on this side of the world and a marriage with the crowned prince would bring a considerable amount of favor to whichever country secured his hand.”
“What's that got to do with—”
“Let me finish, L," Virgil stopped him firmly. “because I'm only going to say this once—” He scowled, baring his teeth on obvious anger. “—Listen, I'm telling you this so Patton doesn't have to, but I’m not going over this twice. I can't, L. Okay?”
Logan stopped immediately at the sound of desperation in Virgil’s voice. Still course from the effects of the poison, Virgil’s deep voice seethed with an anger that seemed overshadow the poison's effects, and even knowing Virgil’s anger wasn’t directed at him, Logan shuddered as Virgil hovered protectively over Patton. Logan nodded slowly, and his eyes flitted uneasily down to Patton, whose face was tucked into his chest, flushed with emotion.
“Thank you.” Virgil’s expression softened as he looked from Logan down to Patton. He lifted his hand to the back of the Patton’s head, gently running his fingers through his hair until Patton leaned into Virgil’s hand and closed his eyes. Patton curled in his arms peacefully, and after a moment, Virgil looked up at Logan once more. “When princey turned twenty, they had this whole ball ‘presenting him ' or what weird crap royals do to their kids to marry them off. It was a big ordeal that was literally decades in the making. Unfortunately, many families were impatient. They tried to skirt the rules by bringing their children along on diplomatic or trade visits, hoping they'd be lucky enough to catch princey’s eye before he turned twenty.” Virgil sighed. “Actually, it wasn’t until princey's twentieth birthday that the world even finally learned that Roman preferred men. So, before then, princes and princesses from every country under the sky sought out Roman's attention while their parents played the courts. Even princey was sick of the attention by the time everyone realized his hand would not be so easily won.”
Logan blinked, dumbfounded. “So many offers and Roman never considered any of them?”
“He's been a romantic as long as I've know him, but he can afford to be picky,” Virgil shrugged. “and the king—Thomas never pressured him to settle, but still, that didn’t stop the disgusting displays of desperation people used to ploy for Roman’s affection.”
Logan nodded slowly, unsettled by the direction the conversation was heading as Virgil turned down to Patton. His eyes followed Virgil’s down to Patton, who numbly staring into the distance as Virgil continued.
“Logan,” Virgil waited until Logan looked back up at him and Logan stared at the sadness in Virgil's eyes as he spoke his next words. “Keeping all of this in mind, before Roman turned twenty, Patton ’s father came to visit Roman—” Virgil sighed. “—and he brought Patton with him.”
Patton curled his legs to hide his chest, and Logan stared absently at him for a moment before the meaning of Virgil’s words settled into his mind. His muscles went rigid as realization swept over him and anger boiled in his stomach as he hissed his next words at Virgil. “You said he was a child.”
Virgil bared his teeth and growled angrily. “He was.”
Logan felt a heat burn in his chest. “That's dis—"
“I, um—”
Logan stopped immediately, glancing around the room as the air itself shifted as Patton’s soft voice interrupted them. A strange sensation swept over him as he actually felt Virgil’s sharp energy soften as he turned down to Patton with wide eyes.
“My father—”
Virgil hushed him gently. “Pat, you don't have to talk about it—”
“I do, kiddo.” Patton sat up, keeping a hand on Virgil’s chest as he continued. “I don't want there to be any confusion. I knew exactly what my father intended to do with me. Even if it wasn't Roman, I knew it would continue until someone accepted my father’s proposal. I existed for him to barter away for power. That was my purpose.”
Logan stared at him absently for a moment before rubbing his temples and letting out an exhausted sigh. “Forgive me for this, Patton, but I'm trying to understand. What exactly did this bastard hope to gain from offering his child to Roman like some sort of sick gift?”
A pang of guilt settled into Logan’s stomach as Patton flinched at his harsh tone. “H-he wanted Roman’s wealth—"
Logan’s blood went cold and he tensed with rage. “What?!”
“I w-was his only child and I was his only chance at winning Roman’s favor—”
Logan hissed, looking up at Virgil. “Why didn’t Roman have this bastard arrested for such an atrocious suggestion?”
“Diplomats aren't subjects to our laws. Roman had no power over him.” Virgil held a hand up to Logan as he explained. He paused, looking down as Patton curled into him. “Are you okay, Pat?”
Logan glanced down at Patton, suddenly aware of the subtle wavering in the air of Patton’s emotions in the air. Regretfully, he forced himself to relax, easing his body language as Patton trembled between them. “I'm sorry, Pat. I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean to upset you.”
“It's okay, Lo.” Patton smiled at him faintly. “I just have a lot of not-so-happy feelings about my past.”
Logan nodded, squeezing Patton's hand as he looked to Virgil for him to continue.
“They were guests in this country and aren’t subjects to our laws. Besides offending Roman, Patton’s father didn’t think he had anything to lose if Roman rejected his offer. He had everything to gain if Roman had been as depraved as him, but if not, he would have just taken Patton and moved on to the next royal. Patton could have spent years being offered up to royal after royal like a piece of meat until some sick bastard gave his father what he wanted, but Patton's father clearly didn't know Roman.” Virgil let out a scoff. “Not that anyone would have expected for princey—for us—to be able to get him out of the castle without being caught.”
Logan blinked and relaxed slightly. He glanced down at Patton curled in their arms and smiled, leaning into Patton. “I am glad Virgil and and Roman were there to help you.
Patton grinned and relaxed into them. “I was in a bad place and I would have done anything to get out of from my father’s control, Lo. Something was looking out for me though, because I was lucky enough to ended up with Virgil and Roman—and you, Lo”
Logan smiled gently down at Patton. “You do seem to fit in perfectly right where you are.”
Patton grinned proudly.
“I'm sorry you had to go through so much to get here though, Pat.” Logan wrapped his hands tighter around Patton. They shared a soft moment, but after a moment, Logan could feel Patton begin to tense.
“I'm ashamed to say it now, but I was scared to meet him, Lo.” Logan frowned as Patton shifted deeper into Logan’s shoulder.
“Who?”
“Roman,” Patton took a deep breath. “I knew what was happening, but didn’t know him. I didn't know he was a good person.”
Logan tilted his head up to look at Patton, as his lip trembled. He looked away abruptly, going limp on Logan's shoulder.
“I'd spent all day following my father from meeting to meeting. Normally, I would have been bored, but I spent the whole day terrified.” Patton sniffed, his voice gravelly with emotion. “I didn’t know if I was going home that night—or if Roman would be nice—”
“Patton—”
“—and I wanted out. I wanted away from my family, but I was worried he might be worse—”
“Pat, breathe.” Virgil whispered patiently, running his fingers through Patton’s hair.
Patton nodded. “Of course, when I finally saw Roman, he was charming some nobles out in the courtyard. I was still scared, but I was hopeful. I wasn't sure what he would want from me, but he seemed so nice, I let myself hope this might go well." Patton paused, talking a deep breath. "I hung back with one of my guards while my father approached him. My country is small, but they are wealthy and generally considered allies of this kingdom. He managed to pull Roman away from the others, no doubt using that knowledge to encourage Roman to give him the time of day.” Patton sighed. “Honestly, the next part is kind of a blur, but we ended up in Roman's chambers and Roman was trying to impress him. The sun was setting. Ro lit the gas lamps and they continued to talk politics for a while.”
Patton sucked in a short breath as his friends shifted closer to him. The air around Logan crackled as he tensed protectively around Patton.
“I hung back while they talked.” Patton paused, breath catching in his throat. “I barely even heard any of the conversation that was happening. My heart was pounding in my chest so loudly and I was shaking when my father finally called me over to them. I didn't hear what my father said, but I'll never forget the look on Roman’s face when he realized what my father was offering.”
Patton closed his eyes falling quiet in their arms.
“Pat,” Virgil whispered. “He was worried about you.”
“I know that now, but at the time, all I saw was his disgust.” After a long sigh, Patton finally turned his head up to Logan. “The expression only lasted a second.” Patton let out a breathy laugh. “He was quick-witted and persuasive, and somehow, he managed to convince my father to let him speak to me alone. I know Ro now, but at the time, I was absolutely shaking with a million worst-case scenarios racing through my head, but Roman wasn’t what I was expecting.”
Logan swallowed. His mouth was dry with nerves as he squeezed Patton's hand. “What did Roman do?”
“The door closed and he turned back to me. I must have looked like a mess when asked me to come sit with him.” Patton smiled fondly. “I wouldn’t even look up at him, but he was so nice.”
Logan smiled as Patton started to relax. The air hummed as his friend curled happily in his arms. He could feel affection radiating off of Patton as he talked about Roman.
“Ro was so good, Lo. He sat me down and was so patient with me.” Patton purred. “He assured me I was safe and he asked me if I was being hurt, but I was too shaken to speak. I just kept staring at the ground, so he kept talking. He told me of Virgil and of the his fathers. He'd ask me questions about myself, even if I didn't answer. Roman just kept talking and his kindness eventually broke through to me though. I wasn’t used to being talked to like a person. I broke down and I told him everything—"
“Pat, breathe—" Virgil whispered, pulling Patton’s head to his chest.
“—It could have cost him everything, Lo, but as soon as I told him I didn't want to go back with my father, he didn’t hesitate to offer me a way out. He told me I'd have to go back with my father for the rest of the day, but he'd send someone for me that night. I’d never have to go back. I wouldn't have to marry anyone I didn't want to. None of it. He'd make sure I was taken care of and all I had to do was promise not to make a fuss when Virgil came for me.”
Logan smiled as Patton looked over his shoulder at Virgil, who had notably more color in his cheeks as the night had worn on. His eyes almost sparkled as he grinned mischievously at Patton. “You were definitely the easiest kidnapping I've ever pulled off."
Patton gently smacked Virgil’s chest, even as a grin stretched across his face. “It's the only kidnapping you’ve ever done, Virge.”
“So, that's why you don't want to be recognized.” Logan commented, mostly to himself, but he found himself looking up sheepishly as Patton heard him.
Patton smiled at him and nodded but Logan couldn’t help but notice the way his fingers started tapping anxiously on his leg. “When it first happened, there was a sizable reward out for my return, and though few people seem to remember, I'm sure that offer still stands if anyone were to bring me back."
Logan thought for a moment, chewing his lip. “Isn't it dangerous for you to live so close to the castle then, Pat?”
Patton smiled at him appreciatively. “I know it seems a little contradictory, but I rarely leave the castle walls because I'm safest here. Outside its walls, someone could simply grab me and take me back to my home country, but if anyone tried that here, I’d still be safe. They’d have to pass through the castle gates and anyone attempting to transport a captured person out of the castle needs Roman’s approval. No one knows he's the one that helped me, so they wouldn't think twice about asking permission to transport a wanted person back to their country.”
Logan paused, anxiously looking to Virgil. “Is there a lot of people being transported out the city against their will?”
“Not often, L. We do have the occasional fugitive that needs to be transported out of the city, so there’s a system in place to ensure no one is unlawfully being taken out of the city against their will.” Virgil pondered for a moment. “Fortunately for us, Roman happens to be in charge of that particular responsibility, instead of his bastard brother.” Virgil shrugged. “Either way though, I personally don’t think we need to worry about Patton getting recognized.”
Logan furrowed his brow. “You’re not worried at all?”
“Not particularly,” Virgil glanced at Patton, hesitating before turning his gaze back to Logan. “No one but King Thomas ever got a close enough look at him to recognize him now and we keep Patton as far away from the king as we can manage.”
“I thought you trusted him, Vee.” Logan lifted his eyes to look at Virgil.
“I do. I'd trust him with my own life in a heartbeat but he doesn’t know why we took Patton." Virgil crossed his arms, resting them on his knees as he leaned forward. "This is a decision that Roman and I have to live with, but here’s no need to force Thomas to make a choice between honoring his position and keeping Patton safe.”
“Fair enough, I suppose.” Logan glanced over at Patton who had fallen strangely quiet through the last part of their conversation. “Still though, what makes you so certain no one will recognize him?”
Virgil stared at Patton, watching cautiously as Patton crossed his arms across his chest and hung his head. He smiled fondly at Patton before turning back to Logan. “Time changes people, L. He looks diff—”
“Stop, Virge.” Patton whispered, lifting his head to look at Virgil. “I-I don't want anymore secrets between us.”
Virgil glanced at Logan before smiling faintly at Patton. “Whatever you want, Pat. I've got your back, but you know it's not my secret to share.”
“I know, kiddo. Thank you.” Patton smiled fondly up at Virgil before pushing himself up and turning to face him. Logan leaned forward in concern as Patton continued seriously. “Lo, after Virgil and I left the castle, he took me to the countryside and we stayed with one of his friends, Emile. Emile was wonderfully kind and patient and I learned a lot from him. He sparked my interest in herbs and medicine and taught me some of the basics before I moved back to the castle and started my apprenticeship.” Patton’s breath slowed and he took a long breath. "He gave me so much and asked for nothing in return. We stayed with Emile for almost half a year, and for the most part I kept inside, but we all knew it was unlikely for me to go completely undetected for several months. We didn’t want to draw attention to ourselves by making it seem like Emile was hiding something, so Virgil suggested a disguise.”
Logan glanced over at Virgil. His hand tugged at the end of his sleeve, occasionally glancing up, not looking at him directly but clearly watching Logan’s reaction carefully. Logan cautiously turned back to Patton with a subtle nod. “That would seem a wise course of action considering your situation.”
“But it more than that, Lo, I was creating an identity.” Patton sighed, flashing Logan a nervous smile. “I was never going to be the person I was before, nor would I have wanted remain that unhappy person. So, I created a new identity. I created a person I wanted to be. Do you know what I mean, Lo?”
“I think so,” Logan nodded. “You never formed a significant attachment to your past identity, so it was an easy decision to leave it behind when given the opportunity to create one for yourself.”
Patton looked to Virgil nervously and Logan didn’t miss the subtle, encouraging smile he flashed at Patton. Logan smiled patiently as Patton turned back to him. “Logan, the person I've been around you is the person I want to be. I don't want to be treated any differently because of what I'm about to tell you. Okay?”
Taken aback, Logan furrowed his brow with a frown. “Why would I—"
“Just promise you won't, Lo.”
Logan stared at him for a long moment, watching Patton shift nervously in front of him. “Patton, I will treat you however you wish to be treated and never anything less.
Patton smiled at him and Logan was grateful to see his anxious movement slow as he peeked up at him. “Thank you, Lo.”
He was quiet for a moment watching Patton take slow breaths, trying to collect himself. “What is it, Patton?”
Patton kept his head down, lifting his eyes shyly at Logan’s soft whisper. “When I first came to this country—when my father brought me to Roman, he presented me as his daughter.”
“Oh.” Logan blinked in surprise, as pieces of information shifted in his mind. Lost in thought for a moment, he smiled as he started to understand Patton’s nervousness.
“I changed my name and I became a new person, but I feel like this is who I was always supposed to be—"
Logan looked up curiously as Patton continued. His voice sounded almost normal but the cheery melody seemed dulled compared to its normal upbeat timbre.
“V-Virgil cut my hair and Emi found me clothes—” Patton stuttered glancing at Virgil before dropping his gaze to his lap. “That's why Virgil’s not particularly worried about me being recognized, because even if they knew who I was, they'd have to realize I'm no longer a gi—"
“Patton.” Logan rested a hand on Patton’s forearm as he started to ramble. He stared at Patton a moment longer before his expression softened. “I see now why you were hesitant to share this information with me, but truly if you can accept that I am not even human, you must know I can certainly accept your identity. You’re still Patton. Nothing changes. Right?”
“Nothing changes.” Patton repeated shyly and nodded, curling his shoulders as gently rocked back and forth. His lips parted slightly as his grin widened. “Thanks, kiddo. I appreciate you not making a big deal about this.”
“It seems to me that’s the bare minimum of what I should do, especially given all that you have done for me, but I'm glad to do so.” Logan smiled patiently, watching Patton adjust to his reaction.
“Still,” Patton paused, looking to the ground. “I appreciate the understanding. I know it’s not an easy thing to accept sometimes.”
Logan paused, watching Patton’s face shift. His tone was neutral but he could see the way Patton’s eyes grew distant as he flashed a smile at Logan. “Actually, Patton, it is rather simple for me to accept that you know yourself better than I do, but I am sorry if other people have been less understanding.”
“I-I've never had any issue living here, but not many people know.” Patton smiled, shyly dipping his head. “Though, I actually have met a few people, who are like me, who are open with their identity and seem to be doing okay.”
“Good. From what I understand, it isn't an uncommon phenomenon.” Logan smiled, watching Patton relax. “In fact, the practice of assigning traits and preferences to someone at birth based solely on their physical attributes seemed completely arbitrary. I only stands to reason that not everyone fits into that narrow of a mold.”
"I always thought so too." Patton smiled faintly. “I guess I'm holding on to some old ideas I had from my father.”
Logan frowned. “Did he tell you it was wrong?”
“Never directly, but it was always understood. I dressed and acted how he expected me to, and any deviation was seen as me disrespecting him.” Patton sighed. “I learned quickly that my preferences were not important.”
“You do know better now though, right Pat?” Logan prodded gently. “That your preferences are the core of who you are and you have the right to express your identity in whatever way you deem appropriate.”
Patton stared at him for a long moment, and Logan was grateful for the silence for a moment. As he finished his statement, vibrations started to radiate from Patton and Logan could nearly hear the gears turning quickly in Patton’s head. The strange sensation only seemed to increase as Patton shot forward, wrapping his arms around Logan's waist. The feeling was like a wildfire flowing through his veins as his friends' emotions resonated within him. “Patton—”
Patton squeaked, pulling back as his name breathlessly escaped Logan’s mouth. “Lo, am I—”
“No—” Logan wrapped his arms around him tighter, not allowing him to pull away. “—not hurting me. It's good, just—a lot.”
Patton relaxed and smiled, leaning into Logan with a gentle squeeze. “Sorry, kiddo. I’ve got lots of feelings right now.”
“It’s okay. You deserve to feel happy and safe, Pat,” Logan whispered. “and I'm honored to be able to feel what you feel. It's just still surprising this ability has lain dormant in me for so long without my knowledge.”
Patton leaned back, looking up at Logan with an understanding smile. “Repression can be a really powerful force, especially when you’re still young, especially if you don't have people to ground you.”
“I guess.” Logan nodded uncertainly.
“It's exciting though, Lo.” Patton beamed excitedly at him. “Exploring and being open about your true self is such an exciting process.”
“You’re right, Pat. It is exciting.” Logan whispered quietly. The idea of learning more was dauntingly overwhelming, but the prospect of understanding himself better was admittedly thrilling.
“Now, Lo. I know this probably goes without saying, but you can't tell anyone about me.”
“I know.”
“I wish it were simpler, but it may keep me from being recognized.”
Logan nodded reassuringly. “On my life, I promise your secret is safe with me, Patton.”
Patton smiled shyly. “Thanks, kiddo.”
“Well,” Logan looked over to Virgil, who was pushing himself up straight. “Listen, I love you both and all, but if that's all well and settled, I do believe it's been an hour and I may just pass out of pure spite, if I have to be awake longer.”
Logan smirked. “Did you lose interest in us so quickly?”
“I can only hear so much over the pounding in my head trying to force me to go to sleep, L.”
“Alright, Vee.” Logan smirked. “Let’s get you fixed up so you can sleep."
-
Logan sighed, releasing his breath into the dark night. Firelight flickered chaotically in front of him as he leaned quietly back in Patton’s chair and the sounds of quiet breathing filled the darkness around him as Patton and Virgil slept peacefully in the bed behind him. The day had been long. From the excitement of the morning's events to the hours they'd just spent periodically waking Virgil up to ensure he stayed properly hydrated and nourished, the day had been one of the longest and most trying days of his life. And yet, a single thought occupied his mind, preventing him from finally resting his weary body after the long day.
Roman.
Exhaustion had settled into his bones and he would have given anything to be asleep right now. He knew his body needed rest and he knew there was nothing he could do until morning, but still paranoid thoughts circled endlessly in his mind making it impossible to settle his body enough to sleep. They'd saved Virgil, but in doing so they'd abandoned the prince to his fate among the fae.
I should have done more.
Worried thoughts surfaced again and again as he pictured Roman at Dee's mercy. His disdain for the prince had been apparent when he' d spoken to Logan, and despite his promises, Logan could see no logical reason that Roman would be returned to him the following night. Even if he was, a day and a half at the whims of Dee’s cruelty did not spell well for the kind prince.
Nor did time with Remus—
Stop.
Dee said they'd bring him back. They wouldn't let him see Remus was involved unless they had no plans to return him—
Logan flinched at his own thought.
Roman.
I should be out looking for you.
Logan bit his lip, trying to stop the tears welling in his eyes.
Not that things will stay the same.
They can’t.
Logan couldn't stop Roman's words echoing again and again in Logan’s head.
All fae are dangerous.
Change was inevitable. Even if Virgil was correct and Roman could see past this flaw. He would need time to adjust and Logan would not fault him for needing the space. It was a reasonable request—
A gentle knocking at the door pulled him from his thoughts. He blinked and a moment passed before the sound registered in his mind. Logan quickly glanced over his shoulder at his sleeping friends before jolting up out of his seat to the door. He turned the handle quietly, trying not to wake his friends as he flung open the door to reveal a young girl, dressed in white uniform. The girl stood eagerly at attention in the door. The young courier looked like she was barely of age, but she wore her confidence proudly.
Logan looked down at her nervously. “Is there news?”
“Yes, sir.” The girl bowed formally. “I am here a the behest of King Thomas himself. He requests your presence in the castle's infirmary immediately.”
Logan stared at her absently.
The infirmary—
Logan tipped his head back over his shoulder as he heard sounds of his friends waking. “What's happened to the prince?”
The girl’s confidence wavered. She shifted nervously as Virgil and Patton came up behind him. “He's been found.”
“Is he hurt?” Virgil’s voice was focused and Logan could feel the aura of authority he was projecting.
The child bowed her head obediently. “Not physically, Sir Virgil. Though from what little I saw, he seems to be suffering from a mental affliction.”
“What kind of affliction, kiddo?” Patton encouraged her to continue.
The girl lifted his head nervously, relaxing slightly at Patton’s sweet smile. “I'm not certain. They'd only just brought him in when King Thomas sent me for you. He was—um, yelling a lot and fighting as they restrained him.”
“Thanks, kiddo.” Patton smiled sweetly down at the girl, before turning back to Virgil and Logan. “I'm going to grab some things and then we can leave."
“Pat,” Virgil called over to him as he dashed back into his home. “Are you sure you wish to join us? The king seems to have quite the situation on his hands. Are you sure it's the best time for you to see him?”
Patton paused, looking back at Virgil seriously as he picked up on Virgil’s veiled thought. “I'll stay out of the way as best I can. All personal history aside, I'm not leaving Roman tonight, regardless of what happens.”
“Okay,” Virgil shrugged. “Your call, Pat.”
“What—” Logan flinched as Virgil's eyes shot to his trembling voice, but he continued on. “What happened to the man that took him?”
The girl looked up at him seriously. “He was arrested.”
“What?” Logan’s eyes shot up at her. "What did he look like?"
She looked at him in surprise. "He was slender, tall with jet black hair. His eyes—if I'm not mistaken, they caught the light and I think they glowed a bright yellow."
"Dee." Logan whispered desperately. "Where'd they take him?"
“They were hauling him off to the dungeons as I left.” She paused, thinking. “He was skinny and didn’t look very threatening, but they had his hands and feet bound in heavy looking shackles.”
“Was he upset at being captured?” Virgil leaned in curiously.
“No, he was very calm.” The girl shuddered. “The whole ordeal with him was rather unnerving.”
Virgil stared at her for a moment before turning to call over his shoulder at Patton. “Pat, let's go. Now.”
-
Chapter Warnings: Anxiety, Angst, Poor Parenting, Mentions of past Emotional/Mental Abuse, Mentions of Self-Harm (Through Intentional Accidents), Mentions of Treating a Child as Property, Mentions of Attempts to Offering a Child for Marriage (Though it never happens), Mentions of Past Food Insecurity, Guilt, Self-Esteem Issues
FYI I’m planning on skipping a week on this story so I can get chapter 7 of The Stowaway’s Heart out :) But I’ll be back the week after!
General Taglist:
@somehow-i-got-an-account @justanotherhumanstuff @im-an-anxious-wreck
You Belong With Me Taglist:
@cas-is-a-hunter @insert-cool-blogname @ironwoman359 @i-know-im-smart @imbadatnames8d @croftersphoenix @optimistic-violinist @chronicallynervouschild @croftersjam15 @actitus-hypoleucos @unbefuckinglieveable @justthatamount @a-goldengirl-in-a-condominium246 @taxicabinmemphis @theoddkidnextdoor @bluerosesbleedred @bowties--cool @lookingforaplacetosleep @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @007ardra @im-actually-ok @grayson-22 @dwbh888
#sanders sides#sanders sides fic#sanders sides fanfic#ts logan#ts virgil#ts patton#you belong with me#villain writes
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Grandpa Djinn au
I didn’t even think about the line of succession when I was writing that ask tbh. I was running on fumes and Coke Zero at that point but here’s a feasible way to write it off from my history nerd obsessed brain.
Since Nadakhan is the only heir to the throne of dinjago that we know of since his father Khanjikhan is king. And we don’t know of any siblings so that makes Nadakhan the direct heir. Via Absolute cognatic primogeniture which is fancy speak for both men and woman can inherit the throne.
Legitimacy among royalty historically is messy especially when kids are made out of wedlock (Read Bastards) by those directly set to inherit the throne.
Nadakhan already managed to make a kid once with Delara before she passed away who going by this au was a girl I believe. So the bastard girl become the next elemental master of water and would have Maya’s mother and so fourth leading to the birth of Kai and Nya.
And since Nadakhan and Delara never managed to tie the knot but Delara managed to get knocked up. Their baby and it’s descendant’s legitimacy would be up in the air on wether they would be fit to inherit the throne until confirmed by the sitting king and said baby and it’s lineage is legitimatized.
So we’re probably gonna go with Nya and Kai being considered legitimized by Khanjikhan and able to inherit the throne after Nadakhan should the time he passes away comes soon.
Nobody wants the throne’s succession to be thrown in disarray when Khanjikhan kicks the bucket eventually. That leads to civil wars and general unrest as history has proven especially when there is no written will and decreed heir.
So Nadakhan would be king of Dinjago with Nya and Kai set as his direct heirs unless he manages to knock up another woman or pregnancy capable being.
They would also be considered the heirs to the throne due to not having any known surviving older relatives. (Well until they find Ray and Maya but that’s a whole other demon)
Kai doesn’t seem like the type to wanna be the direct ruler of Dinjago he seems more like he’d be focused on military work and the like. So he’d probably abdicate his position of crown prince and give it to Nya instead.
Nya is getting experience as a pirate captain and would understand the pressures of ruling a kingdom better. Plus she isn’t as hasty and is more diplomatic than Kai. So her being crown princess and eventual queen regnant/king wouldn’t surprise me.
Ok, um I guess no rights for Kai then.
I'm kidding of course, but why is everyone so sure he would hate it so much? Kai did want to be the green ninja before it turned out to be Lloyd. Plus, if he didn't have to raise Nya on his own he'd probably be more willing to take on responsiblity like that.
Unless we just all want Queen Nya of Djinnjago. In which case it's fiction of fiction and we can make arbitrary rules. Djinnjago is a matriarchy. Nadakhan was only eligible because he had no sisters, and Nya would actually come before him in line for the throne since she's the oldest female heir.
-Ivy
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Jon Snow and his Two Fathers: A balance between Ice and Fire
You know what I utterly despise about what Double Dicks did with Jon Snow’s character in the show--aside from omitting the whole Azor Ahai storyline, and making the entire R+L=J plot absolutely meaningless?? It’s that Double Dicks apparently “FORGOT” that aside from Ned Stark, Rhaegar Targaryen was ALSO Jon Snow’s father. Now lemme explain what I mean. Yes, the show has established however did NOT PAY OFF R+L=J. And not only was this whole plot line the entire purpose of Jon Snow’s arc, it was also the whole backbone of GOT’s history, 20 years before it began. And Rhaegar Targaryen was the center of it all.
Part of what makes !BOOK Jon such a fan favorite, and why he would arguably make an EXCELLENT ruler/king, is because NOT ONLY does he have his adoptive father’s HONOR AND MORALS, he also has his biological father’s PASSION, CHARISMA AND LEADERSHIP SKILLS. Meaning that while Jon has a strong set of honor and morals--which is known to get you killed in GOT--his passion and natural borne leadership skills help BALANCE those things out that effectively makes not only a WORTHY leader, but also a POWERFUL one.
I started rereading the books again since the show’s garbage now, and just in the first couple of Jon chapters in AGOT you can already see how much Jon is growing and developing into that of a worthy leader. For example, when Jon first enters the Night’s Watch, he is almost somewhat of a formidable bully to the other night’s watch members. Not only because of his ego of being a “highborn raised bastard,” but because he is actually a better swordsman than they are. (Which he proves.) And also because the other members keep teasing him about how he’s a bastard with no mother. It isn’t until Donal Noye calls Jon out on his bullshit, and Tyrion once again having to reaffirm Jon of his identity by letting him know that his title can be used as an effective armor, that Jon beings to realize his mistakes and then tries to become better. And by his next chapter, Jon is already TEACHING the other night’s watch members how to sword fight effectively. He begins to be much more patient with them, and each time they fall, he helps pick them back up.
And it’s not like no one else can see his leadership skills. Like if you didn’t think Jon could become a great king because he lacks, why do you think Jeor Mormont chose Jon to be his successor? From the point when Jeor gives Jon Longclaw, he begins to train him under his wing, because he saw potential in Jon. Jon has the skills and the mind to become a leader. A GOOD ruler. And no, don’t tell me Jon is too dumb to become a good king/ruler. Because !BOOK JON is not. Let’s compare this to Sansa. Sansa stans claim that Sansa would be a good ruler because she was trained under Cersei, Littlefinger, Olenna, Margery, and to some extent, Tyrion? But if you notice, all her mentors are DIRTY. While they are smart, they’re cheaters and DISHONORABLE people. And have proven multiple times that they wouldn’t be good rulers.
Jon on the other hand, has had 3 mentors. Jeor Mormont, Mance Rayder, and Stannis Baratheon. (Technically Jeor is the only mentor. But Jon has served under the wing of both Mance and Stannis.--Especially after he becomes Lord Commander.) Two of Jon’s “mentors” are KINGS. While the other is simply an “ARMY LEADER”. What do all 3 of these leaders have in common? People follow them, not only because they have to, but because they are seen as “worthy to be followed.” All 3 of them not only have effective leadership skills, but they DO NOT have “Shit for Honor.” At least, to some extent. Jeor poses as the leader that knows the REAL THREAT beyond the wall. And that’s what he trains Jon for. Becoming the leader that will become the shield that guides and protects the realm. Mance is King that wants to guide his people to safety because of the THREAT OF THE OTHERS. (White Walkers.) And Stannis the Mannis is the RIGHTFUL KING of Westeros. He is cold and harsh. But he is HONORABLE and JUST. He is the most effective ruler out of the 3, and part of the reason is because of Jon. To those who say Jon cannot be a good ruler, guess who’s the man who suggested Stannis fight the Ironborn at Deepwood, and in turn, win the support of the Mormonts and the freefolk? When Stannis is fighting battle outside of Winterfell, it’s JON who maintains all the political shit for Stannis back at the wall. You can kinda say Jon was acting “Hand of the King,” while Davos was at White Harbor. And you can be damn sure that he was good at it. It’s not up until the Arya--pink letter plot in ADWD where we see Jon start to lose it a little before ultimately succumbing to love over duty.
ALL of these traits and effectiveness to rule, came from one man. HIS BIOLOGICAL FATHER, Rhaegar Targaryen. He didn’t get it from Ned, who we we know was a pretty weak Hand for the King. He got it from Rhaegar, the man who conspired to usurp his father from the throne as he was growing madder by the day. (In theory.) From Barristan’s pov, Rhaegar would’ve made a BETTER KING than all the 3 kings he’s served previously. He was DETERMINED, DELIBERATE, AND DUTIFUL. He was also very PROTECTIVE of his people, as claimed by Jamie, who was tasked by Rhaegar to protect Elia and their children. All of that, can be found in Jon. ESPECIALLY in Jon’s chapters in ADWD.
Rhaegar was a natural born leader. He was loved by the people, and people followed him because the people believed in him. Sound familiar? Jon is also a natural born leader, (with evidence from above), and the fact that he does whatever he can to protect his people too. The Battle at the Wall against Wildlings is an excellent example of how Jon leads his people, and how he protects his brothers. This is what ultimately leads him to become Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch.
Another trait that Jon took after Rhaegar, was his ability to sword fight. (To all the people who claimed that Jon couldn’t have killed the Night King in s8e3, because he’s not a good swordsman, or wasn’t “stealthy” enough: Fuck you. Lmaoo, jk.) In the books, out of Robb, Jon and Arya, who do you think is actually considered the better swordsman of the 3??? HMMMMMMMM I WONDER WHOOOOO???? While Robb is the better military tactician/commander, and Arya is pretty damn good with a bow, it’s JON who’s the better soldier. In the books, it is known that while Robb was better with a lance, Jon was better with a SWORD. Sooooo that just shat on all fancystans that claimed only Arya was “skilled” enough to kill the NK. LMAOOOO WHY DO YOU THINK THE NK EVEN AVOIDED 1 ON 1 COMBAT WITH JON?? BC Jon was slowing him down? LMAOO K, whatever helps you sleep at night. XDD (I’m still bitter about this one.)
Let’s also talk about Jon’s attitude in comparison with Rhaegar’s. Rhaegar, while being charismatic and passionate, was also very melancholic and very introverted. He was “born with a sense of doom.” Jon while also solemn and introverted, he has a “melancholic temper” to him. (Actually he gets this from both his mother and father. Rhaegar being melancholic, and Lyanna being wolf-blooded.) While Jon does not express his feelings much, when he is overcome with emotion, he acts impulsively. Going back to the “sense of doom,” Rhaegar was melancholic because he was born out of grief in the midst of tragedy. (Summerhall.) Jon, for obvious reasons, because he was a bastard and felt unloved. Who was ALSO born most likely out of GRIEF and in the midst of TRAGEDY. (Robert’s Rebellion.) Both these two were an enigma by the people around them. Speaking of introverted, both these two broody boys loved to read too. And often used it as an escape from the real world.
MORE PARALLELS: Both Rhaegar and Jon broke their vows FOR woman. Jon broke them twice. Jon broke his vows to be with Ygritte, but he BROKE THEM AGAIN for Arya. Interestingly enough, Rhaegar, if he really loved Lyanna or not, still BROKE HIS MARRIAGE VOWS for her. And Arya is a younger, direct parallel of Lyanna. So there is some beautiful symmetry going on here. Also, there is this nice little irony I found, that while Rhaegar represents FIRE, he has a melancholy made of ICE. And while Lyanna represent ICE, she has a WOLF-BLOODED TEMPER made of FIRE. Jon is the balance between those two. And one more parallel: From Ned’s POV we learn that Rhaegar did not frequent, or liked going to brothels. If we play this in with Jon, we learn from Jon that he HATES the idea of fathering a bastard. Which is actually a conflict that prevents him from sleeping with Ygritte on multiple occasions. He’s afraid of getting her pregnant, because he’s a bastard, and that would make his would be child a bastard too.
So yes, while it’s evident that Jon has a lot of Ned in him--more so than ANY of the Stark children--aside from Arya, Jon has SO MUCH MORE of his biological father in him. And yes, it is important that Jon has Ned’s traits. It really puts emphasis on how Jon tries hard to be like his father, and how Ned’s presence and morals still lives even after he’s long dead. But the same should be claimed about Rhaegar too. His presence strongly lives on in Jon. And it shows very deeply, despite nobody knowing anything about it. Actually, you could probably theorize that Ned saw it in Jon too.
This is why I HATE what the show has done with Jon. Other than saying fuck you to the Azor Ahai story in favor of fanservice, and not properly paying off R+L=J, the show ultimately decided to omit ANY IMPORTANCE Rhaegar had in this fucking wretched story. Let’s also not forget, the only reason why everyone’s storyline was there in first place was because of Rhaegar! Rhaegar Targaryen is arguably the REAL MAIN CHARACTER of ASOIAF and by making his whole storyline/character utterly meaningless, almost ALL the plot lines in GOT have become pathetically pointless and in vain. Jon in the books has both Ned’s traits AND Rhaegar’s traits. Adding MORE EMPHASIS to ICE & FIRE. By having both honor and morals, and the INTELLIGENCE to lead, you can be assured Jon would’ve made a good fucking King. His rule would literally be a direct replica of Aegon the Unlikely. Who was considered one of the BEST KINGS westeros had. But nooooooo the show just had to go out of their way and make Jon a Ned 2.0. Jon Snow was removed of all his intelligence and complexity to become a painfully 1 dimensional HONORABLE IDIOT. Where’s the balance? You know who would’ve been good at ruling the 7 kingdoms? I DON’T KNOOOOW, UHHHHH THE YOUNGEST LEGITIMATE SON OF RHAEGAR WHO NOT ONLY HAS A STRONG SENSE OF LEADERSHIP AND POWER, BUT ALSO THE DAMN MORALS AND HONOR OF THE MOST HONORABLE MAN OF WESTEROS AKA NED STARK??????? WHO HAS ALSO TAKEN NUMEROUS LEADERSHIP ROLES AND MENTORED UNDER SOME OF THE BEST RULERS/LEADERS OF WESTEROS IN HIS GENERATION??? But whooops, I forgot, DEEP/GOOD STORYTELLING IS ONLY FOR 8TH GRADE BOOK REPORTS.
Jon though, is highly unlikely to become king of 7 kingdoms in the books though. Most probably just King in the North. But to those who say Jon doesn’t want power and all that, naaaaah. Jon’s always wanted to be a Stark. He’s always wanted to inherit something, or have power in some way. When Stannis was willing to legitimize Jon to get the North, Jon was actually contemplating on doing it. But then he saw Ghost and remembered his vows. So he declines. But Jon’s whole importance is actually to protect the realm against whites. And from the end of Dance, we are getting closer to that direction. Jon’s whole parentage while yes, makes him have the most legitimate claim to the throne, holds much more IMPORTANCE for the war against the Others. (Azor Ahai). However because of this whole AA/WW storyline, Jon becoming king, would make it that much more MEANINGFUL. A king that guarded and protected the realm from those who would harm it. A king worthy of ruling the realm. You can be certain that not only would his adoptive father be PROUD, but his biological father would be too. And that’s the ultimate reward that Jon’s ever wanted.
But Jon’s arc in the show might actually be the same path he might take in the books. It’s a very appropriate ending for Jon to go North of the wall in the end and reject the throne. But holy fuck, the show made it so unrewarding and overall proved to be a terrible ending for Jon. IF GRRM has the same ending for Jon in the books, you can be damn assured that it’s going to be far more superior to his parallel ending in the show, and will be the most rewarding ending for Jon. (Kinda like what happens to Frodo in LOTR.) It will be Jon’s A Dream of Spring after a harsh winter’s night.
( Whether he wants it or not, I’m still hoping for Jon to be King of the 7 Kingdoms though.) This is really long, holy shit. Congrats for making it to the end. xD
#game of thrones#got spoilers#Jon Snow#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf#Rhaegar Targaryen#Lyanna Stark#rhaegar x lyanna#Ned Stark#Arya Stark#jonrya#house stark#house targaryen
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Do you think book!Bran will get the same ending he does in the show? I mean, if he does, it will obviously be better written (I was like "Does Edmure know about the Three-Eyed Raven? Is Yara going 'the hell did you smoke' at the 'he couldn't walk so he learned to fly' part? Is nobody going to go 'ok but shouldn't we look for someone older and better known through Westeros, with experience in both politics and military stuff' at Tyrion?" through the whole scene), but do you think that's that?
(I had another anon that went like:
i can't believe there are still bran is evil theories. im pretty sure that bran ending up on the throne is likely bc it doesn't make sense in the show. d&d don't know anything about bran, but they do know this is george's ending
so I’m answering both XD)
the short answer is yes, but obviously it’s not gonna be written the same way as in this dumbass show for a whole lot of reasons.
now: actually, bran on the throne makes in hindsight a whole lot of sense...... if you take into account also what tropes he’s there to deconstruct. (I’m gonna cp some older meta of mine on the topic that I did ages ago but it still holds up lol.)
as in, when it comes to bran GENERALLY:
bran is the first pov chapter in these books. the first. should hint that he’s important;
bran has 90% of the magic-related storyline. I mean, if you don’t count the dragons/r’hollor + mel and the AA prophecy, there’s less magic in asoiaf than in regular fantasy for obvious reasons, but what there is of is all in bran’s storyline. all. of. it;
as it is right now, he’s arguably a powerhouse. possibly the most powerful powerhouse in westeros. he can probably warg dragons. he can time travel. if the show didn’t fuck it up, he can change things in the past while time traveling even if he shouldn’t;
the entire storyline is headed north/behind the wall and bran is the one main character who’s behind the wall rn. and bran is at a point where he basically is in direct connection with the north at least and when I say direct I mean literally. the guy can warg into anything. maybe he can’t walk but man he’s basically a hundred luke skywalkers put into one person;
he’s also tied to all the northern mythology - the trees, the children of the forest and the likes. him, his storyline, everything. and the north is arguably where this story started and will most probably end and he is the character more symbolizing that mythology, not anyone else.
when it comes to bran thematically.... guys. bran is the deconstructed fisher king. as in: the fisher king is a character from arthurian mythology who is absolutely fundamental in the entire scheme - also arthurian mythology is one of the basis people built modern fantasy on - and which has been rehashed and reinterpreted for a shitload of times since the middle ages. c/p-ing quickly from wiki because you don’t need to go in-depth to do 2+2 on this:
In Arthurian legend the Fisher King, or the Wounded King, is the last in a long line charged with keeping the Holy Grail. Versions of his story vary widely, but he is always wounded in the legs or groin and incapable of moving on his own. In the Fisher King legends, he becomes impotent and unable to perform his task himself, and he also becomes unable to father or support a next generation to carry on after his death. His kingdom suffers as he does, his impotence affecting the fertility of the land and reducing it to a barren wasteland. All he is able to do is fish in the river near his castle, Corbenic, and wait for someone who might be able to heal him.
+Many works have two wounded “Grail Kings” who live in the same castle, a father and son (or grandfather and grandson). The more seriously wounded father stays in the castle, sustained by the Grail alone, while the more active son can meet with guests and go fishing.+The Fisher King appears first in Chrétien de Troyes’ Perceval (late 12th-century), but the character’s roots may lie in Celtic mythology. He may be derived more or less directly from the figure of Bran the Blessed (!!!!!!) in the Mabinogion. In the Second Branch, Bran has a cauldron that can resurrect the dead (albeit imperfectly; those thus revived cannot speak) which he gives to the king of Ireland as a wedding gift for him and Bran’s sister Branwen. +The Lancelot-Grail cycle includes a more elaborate history for the Fisher King. Many in his line are wounded for their failings, and the only two that survive to Arthur’s day are the Wounded King, called Pellam or Pellehan, and the Fisher King, Pelles.
now, what I said last year in that meta was:
then there’s the entire part where galahad (or whoever else in his stead but it’s galahad most times) heals the fisher king and saves the land which turns fertile again, but whatever, point is: asoiaf is a deconstruction of tropes, right, well sorry but I’m eating my own hat if bran isn’t a fisher king deconstruction where the wound actually makes him powerful rather than weak and where he definitely won’t need anyone to *heal* him, while at the same time he is tied with the (his) land directly and he embodies it and most of the magic storyline. and the fisher king is one of the main tropes/legends in western literature/arthurian mythology, if you have that kind of character in your book then you are not planning for them to be a second-rate player.
now, admittedly back then I was envisioning a finale when bran was either king in the north or in some similar position and not as endgame king but if we take the show finale for granted because as the other anon said it made no sense for d&d but it was george’s ending and they had to make it happen without understanding it.... well. actually:
if bran - ie deconstructed fisher king who becomes powerful because of his wound and doesn’t have to be healed by a knight to make the land fertile again because that wound gives him power - becomes actual eventual king it’s the full circle of that trope’s deconstruction because his wound means the eventual salvation of the entire continent, which works perfectly to bookmark how that specific scenario is turned on its head;
the problem is that d&d can’t write bran for shit and turned him into the heartless robot/3ER who might or might not have schemed the entire thing and didn’t make him do shit for three seasons because they can’t handle the magic storyline and then at the ending mAGICALLY we have king bran first of his name, but in a coherent version done by grrm and not by them where bran has his eye-opening experience beyond the wall, doesn’t magically lose his personality when he becomes the 3ER, keeps his sweetness and empathy after risking to lose them (which was his adwd storyline), helps greatly during the long night thanks to the fact that he’s a powerhouse and is eventually recognized as a savior of the realm in its own merit, then......... it’s actually very much coherent with grrm’s themes to have him become king, but not because he knew all along and played mysterious until now and whatever the fuck else, but because it’s the coronation of his entire storyline which starts with sweet young boy who just wants to be a hedge knight and then ends up saving the entire continent making the best use of what he has after that’s taken from him while using his connection to the magic roots of the story/to his land/to his family for the good of the entire realm, and that was a damn good story - sadly it’s not what d&d chose to tell except at the end;
edmure and yara were badly written but that entire scene was badly written and well-acted sadly, like no one objected because no one will object in the book storyline, given that ^^^^ happens, in the show they just basically tried to find a way to make it halfway plausible but it looks dumb because it’s badly written and it’s copypasting an endgame for a story that d&d have not adapted, but basically you had to buy that bran was it. it made no sense but like... what made sense, this episode’s salvation was the acting and that since the endgame was half grrm’s it wasn’t as shitty as 8x05 but like within itself it was incoherent af;
that said I think that bran being king + the small council being more or less what it was in the show (because LIKE HELL that’s brienne’s endgame like brienne is def. not going into any kingsguard in the books unless george smoked weed when he was writing acok/asos/affc) as in made of all discriminated categories in westeros or discriminated people in westeros after the throne’s destruction is absolutely a thing grrm would do, because basically we’ve gone from badly suited kings with a small council that’s basically the westeros equivalent of old white republican men to a realm where the king can’t walk (but can fly! ;) ) and the rest of the small council is a) a disabled man who’s been abused to hell and back all his life (REGARDLESS OF TYRION’S FAULTS let’s just look at the strict facts here), b) a former commoner who has been a lord for years but couldn’t read when the series began (davos), c) another former commoner (bronn) [note that both davos and bronn are former *criminals*/come from a really poor background, not from the wealthy side of the commoners], d) a woman who is also a knight ie something that pretty much disregards the entire status quo from before (brienne), e) sam who let’s all remember is a noble but was sent to the wall by his father because his skills were in his brain and not with swords/fighting/whatnot and who also was abused to hell and back when he was young - like, both the only nobles in it that were born nobles were disadvantaged and felt that on their own skin so they aren’t out of touch with the rest of the continent (sam was at the WALL where the only nobles go there for lack of options but it’s basically a glorified prison X°DDD). like, that is an ending I can absolutely see grrm going for because it’s basically the revenge of our forgotten-from-s1-and-dnd cripples, bastards and broken things that start the show the way they do and end it on top of things. that is absolutely a thing I can see grrm doing (with some changes bc again I really doubt the books small council would include bronn and brienne). the problem is that d&d wrote it like crap.
but bran becoming king and that being the general idea? I absolutely can see it same as while I was on team jon gets the throne and hates it before if this is how it goes... well, since I’ve been saying that if he wanted to be happy he should have just gone back beyond the wall if that is his actual endgame I have no issues with it. hell, it’s way better than the one I had envisioned for him for that matter.
that said bran being evil is a theory that makes no sense, it’s just that d&d can’t write him and they managed to make him look like an ass if we assume he knew everything from before. but like. it’s them being unable to write that story, not the story in itself being invalid or making no sense, because with the book elements we have.... it makes a hell of a lot of sense.
they just had to write it and they didn’t.
#bran stark#game of thrones spoilers#got negativity#janie writes meta#sorry my hand slipped#haljathefangirlcat#ask post
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Imperfection is perfection
In today’s age of internet and social media, being perfect has become an obsession not just for the young generations out there but also for adults. Spending dollars after dollars just to be perfect like the Victoria Secret’s Angel or to look like a perfect model seen on Vogue cover. But is this actually perfection? I highly doubt it. If I am being honest there is no such thing as perfection. It’s just an abstract word found in the pages of books and magazines. When in reality, perfect means the exact opposite.
Over the years we are taught to be perfect in every way, be it physically or in our activities, work or the way we dress ourselves (goes for both genders, by the way). We spend half of our life to be this “all perfect” person. Whenever we try to be ourselves, whenever we try to accept our flaws, we are instantly told or commented by people, saying that we shouldn’t be proud of our flaws and should try to cover it or get rid of it otherwise we won’t be accepted by the world. There was this saying by Bob Marley,
“Who are you to judge the life I live? I know I’m no perfect and I don’t live to be- but before you start pointing fingers make sure your hands are clean.”
This saying of his is so impactful and honestly it couldn’t be truer. In this world I believe individually that nobody’s perfect and if someone says or believes that he or she is perfect in every means, I would likely consider them to be foolish or would assume they are in denial or they are the most fakest person. Because as humans we are prone to mess things up no matter how much we try to do it properly. It’s in our traits and we can’t help it and that’s what makes us human.
In my life I came across people who hates themselves because of the flaws they have or the way they are and on this note I remember Tyrion Lannister’s dialogue from Game of Thrones.
“Never forget what you are, the rest of the world will not. Wear it like an armor and it can never be used to hurt you”.
He said this to Jon Snow, another character from Game of Thrones, when he was ashamed or was feeling low since (Spoiler Alert) he was a bastard in the show. And I totally agree with Tyrion Lannister because I believe if one can’t accept one’s flaws or the way he or she is , that is, if one can’t love themselves exactly the way they are it’s impossible for them to love others or to love others the way they deserve to be loved. Many people can’t accept their flaws and they usually give away their whole life trying to create an illusion of being “PERFECT”. I don’t really know if I should feel sorry for them or laugh at them for being such cowards, wasting their life behind something so non-existent. If I am asked whom do, I think to be the most fake person? I would gladly reply the most “POLISHED PERFECT PERSON”. Sounds rude but it’s the actual truth.
I don’t understand why people fail to acknowledge the fact that we people are meant to have flaws and make mistakes because we aren’t a robot. We are bound to have flaws and make mistakes and we shouldn’t ever feel ashamed of that nor be afraid to accept the real us. And honestly once we are able to accept the real us openly and proudly the world would also learn to accept the real us. But it is on us to
take a step towards self-love and accept ourselves without changing and the rest will automatically follow and also learn to accept the way we are. To love others fully we need to love ourselves first. We have to start with ourselves so that we can also love others with that much compassion and passion.
Remember always, perfection isn’t what we saw growing up, on social media or vogue covers. Perfection is to be comfortable in our own body, to eat whatever we feel like without worrying about the bulges in our body, wearing sweatshirts and going out without makeup, without having to worry how we walk or how we talk. Perfection is being yourself, loving yourself just the way you are with all your flaws. So, accept your flaws and imperfections with a warm heart and never change yourself because someone doesn’t like you the way you are, because the right person or the person who really loves you, will accept you and love you despite your flaws, just the way you are. So never ever stop loving yourself because life is too short to care about others opinion or what they think about you. And to me the bravest are those who love themselves the way they are without a doubt. To me they are the most perfect and the most transparent person in this world. And never forget, when all the details fit in perfectly, something is probably wrong with the story. And I can’t help but finish it without saying,
“BE PERFECTLY IMPERFECT”
Written by
Tasfia Nausheen
#selflove #beautyiswithinimperfection #perfectionisimperfection #confidentandbeautiful
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The Approximate Plotline of the Gryphonverse (pt. 1)
Because like. I’m never gonna actually write this shit in any form, it’s gotten too convoluted and weird and pretty much officially exists only as a collection of ideas and drawings, and I guess this blog now.
This is gonna be long as fuck, just so you know what you’re getting into behind this readmore.
The whole thing starts out as fairly standard, fairly tropey high fantasy-type stuff and takes place entirely on Aentha, centered around the country of Andolia, a fantasy-feudal country with a vaguely German bent, with added notes of French and Celtic. It’s populated almost entirely by aquei, which are the closest thing Aentha has to humans (and they are very close, I just couldn’t think of a reason to have actual humans evolve separately on a completely different planet when Earth and actual humans are also canonically a thing). It’s bordered on one side by sea and all others by wilderness that, for various reasons ranging from “it’s impassable and useless” to “it’s literally cursed and/or protected by powers we don’t want to fuck with,” remains virtually untouched by civilization and is at best halfheartedly disputed over with other nearby countries. There’s trade by sea but otherwise the country is fairly isolated from its neighbors. Anyway, Andolians don’t like gryphons. The ‘why’ of this situation isn’t really established, but they’re a rather xenophobic bunch, more so the further you get into the heart of the country. The people who occupy villages/homesteads closer to the borders are sometimes more chill about them, which is fortunate, because that no-man’s-land that the aquei don’t want is full of gyphons, because gryphons are both well suited to impassable mountainous regions, and not afraid to fuck with powers most other people won’t. The latter trait is probably a lot of the reason Andolians are wary of them at best and actively hate them at worst.
So at a certain point, circa 1980 in Earth time (which won’t become relevant for a long while yet but does matter since everything in this lore canonically occurs in real time alongside our world), a half-gryphon baby ends up in the custody of a small Andolian town. It’s too large and central to have had any previous contact with gryphons but still small and out of the way enough that nobody in the capital gives two shits what goes on there, so the existence of this gryphonic child goes largely unnoticed. What exactly happened to his parents is still not established and honestly doesn’t matter, but it’s Andolia, so the likely answer is “nothing good.” Gryphons who do venture into the country proper frequently meet unfortunate ends and people who willfully associate with them don’t do so great either. In any case, it’s likely that the aquei parent’s family were residents of this town and took in the kid, who was subsequently named Talon, because Andolians don’t really do subtlety with their naming conventions. The town proves to be a surprisingly supportive environment to grow up in, mainly on the logic of “if we raise this kid right we will never have to deal with the local bandit problem again because we’ll have a gryphon and nobody will want to fuck with us.” Incredibly, this Timon and Pumbaa logic actually works out, and Talon finds himself more welcome among small town Andolians than any gryphon has probably ever been because he’s quickly developed a reputation as a “good” one and turned into a local hero (though one that everyone in the region keeps kind of quiet about so as not to draw attention from the capital or anyone else who might not like it).
Eventually, some time in the late 90s Earth time, he meets Iadra, a full-blooded gryphon. They form a bond, eventually becoming definitive life partners, and Talon also reconnects more with the gryphonic half of his heritage through her. The townsfolk aren’t really thrilled about Iadra, and she’s not really thrilled about them, but they adopt an attitude of “I guess if Talon likes you, you can’t be too awful, guess you can hang around” to which she basically responds “appreciate the unbridled confidence in my character, but no thank you” and mainly stays on the outskirts and never really gets involved in aquei affairs to the extent Talon does, especially since the interspecies tensions are getting worse lately.
Meanwhile, as all this was semi-quietly going on in a small town nobody cared about, other things were semi-quietly going on directly in the Andolian royal court. The king, Shale, was really hitting it off with a woman who had just kind of shown up in the capital one day calling herself Ember. Through a combination of charisma and political shrewdness she managed to endear herself to most of the court and take on an unofficial advisor position, and also have an affair with the king. Eventually, circa 1989, this led to a son being born, who they named Ash (meanwhile, on Earth, Taylor Swift was being born, which isn’t important to this story it’s just something I realized just now and thought was really funny). The king had no other children at the time, so his first reaction was “hey, free heir” until it came to light that Ember was not wholly aquei, and in fact had some gryphonic heritage and so, by extension, did Ash.
A prudent move here might have been to cover this up, accuse whoever exposed Ember of slander, and just let the kid inherit the throne anyway. Sadly, prudence was not a trait King Shale possessed in abundance. So what he did instead was lose his shit over it and very publicly throw Ember out of his court, after which she quickly fell prey to any one of the many people who were pissed at her for the deception, and was killed. Shale then denied both the affair and the fact that Ash was his son, but made a show of magnanimously “adopting” the gryphonic bastard child and allowing him to remain at court. This was an entirely political move in response to the fact that the gryphons on Andolia’s borders were getting tired of exactly this kind of shit, and he hoped that he could use Ash as a kind of “how can you say I hate gryphons, look at this one who I raised and keep around out of the goodness of my heart” card.
Unsurprisingly this did not work out nearly as well as Shale imagined it would, and instead of a loyal walking virtue signal/gryphonic liaison, what he ended up with was a resentful and confused teenager who had been raised with the combined knowledge that A) gryphons are terrible, dangerous creatures with few redeeming qualities and nobody likes them, and B) he was part gryphon. So, not unlike Taylor Swift, he responded to everyone’s expectation that he would be a shitty person by turning into a shitty person. This uneasy state of affairs carried on until Ash was around sixteen, at which point he accidentally stumbled across the fact that he was actually the king’s son, and not the son of a random courtier with poor judgement as had always been vaguely implied. He also found out what exactly had happened to his mother. He immediately confronted Shale about this. Shale, who had always been paranoid about Ash trying to usurp him, entirely missed the point of the confrontation and instead of addressing the lying or the unofficially sentencing Ember to death thing or the general environment he’d made Ash grow up in, angrily doubled down on the fact that Ash would not be heir to the throne, ever, because he’s still a gyphon and that’s not a thing in Andolia, and even if he wasn’t he’d never be fit to rule and was clearly an ungrateful little shit. Ash, who up to that point hadn’t remotely wanted to rule, immediately decided out of pure teenage spite that fuck you, he was going to usurp his asshole of a father and do exactly that, so he set about stirring up dissent and delving further into his gyphonic heritage, with which he quickly became mildly obsessed since obviously his aquei side wasn’t doing anything for him. In the course of this research he came across records of an unrelated full-blooded gryphon named Kyran who had been executed by the king on trumped-up charges as a political maneuver some years prior and, since he no longer wanted to use an Andolian name and didn’t know his mother’s real name, he decided to adopt that one.
Cut back to Talon and Iadra, who are among the gryphons getting edgy over the king’s increasing levels of bullshit since it’s putting Talon’s town and everyone he associaties with at risk, and making things even more difficult for the local gryphons, who are having trouble even venturing into the outskirts to trade unless they’re very stealth about it. Iadra starts to think that maybe they should take some direct action and go after the king directly, a plan Talon is extremely dubious about since they have zero meaningful political allies and he doesn’t want to paint a target on the assorted farmers and villagers who would back him. That is until Kyran shows up and announces his plan to overthrow the king himself, along with a grandiose plan to change things for Andolia’s relationship with the gryphons once he takes over. And Kyran does have political allies (though not many, and not without substantial effort on his part). Talon decides that’s enough for him to go along with the idea, so he and Iadra join forces with Kyran’s rebellion and know what this is too long I need to make this a multi-part thing.
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GOT 8X06 REVIEW
So this was it, the very last episode of Game of Thrones ever and I was amazed and shocked... at how much they managed to f*ck it all up. I know alot of viewers were already upset with season 8 but up until this point I mostly enjoyed it. However this last episode... well underwhelmed doesn’t really cut it but its the best I can come up with at the moment. If I could sum up this episode in 4 words it would be what was the point? But anyway as there are spoilers I’m going to stick the rest under the cut so if you want to read on if you don’t that’s cool too lol.
Bran the Broken
So I’m going to start with the thing that bothered me the most. Bran is the King makes no sense at all. Like I get that Game of Thrones is suppose to subvert expectations and do the unexpected and be shocking and all that. But there is a difference between having a surprising twist and doing something that just doesn’t make sense at all. By all means shock me, surprise me but for the love of all the gods old and new please make sure it has some kind of logic within the story. Bran has spent the last 2 or so seasons going on about how he can’t be Lord of Winterfell or Lord of anything because he is the Three Eyed Raven now but I’m suppose to believe he can be King like what?! If he can’t be Lord of Winterfell and the Three Eyed Raven both then he sure has hell shouldn’t be able to be King and the Three Eyed Raven it makes no sense at all.
Also I’m sorry but I half cracked up when Tyrion said the next Ruler should be someone with a great story and then chose Bran because in my opinion he had the least interesting story out of any of the remaining characters there. It was so uninteresting that 1) they cut him out completely for a whole season because all he was doing was sitting in a tree talking to an old guy and 2) Tyrion had to remind us what Bran’s story was and big it up for it to make sense. Like yes he survived a fall from a window then travelled beyond the wall and became the Three Eyed Raven as Tyrion said he was told he’d never walk again so he learnt to fly and yes his powers are interesting (if only they had explored them more). I’m not trying to take those accomplishments away from him. But when you compare it to others that have the potential to be the next ruler Bran’s is hardly the most exciting story. I mean Arya escaped King’s Landing, travelled with Gendry and Hot Pie, served as Tywin’s cup bearer all the while without him knowing he had Arya Stark right within his grasp, joined up with the Brotherhood without Banners, travelled with the Hound and went from hating him to learning from him to having affection for him, went to Braavos and became a faceless assasin, crossed numerous people of her list, came back to Westeros and killed the Frey’s, returned to Winterfell and helped take down Littlefinger, fought against the Army of the Dead, Killed the Night King then witnessed and survived the Sacking of Kings Landing. Sansa suffered under the Lannisters yet survived them, escaped to the Eyrie, learnt how to play the game from both Littlefinger and Cersei, married Bolton then escaped and got to the wall, helped rally the north behind Jon and gained the support of the Vale which led to the victory at the Battle of the Bastards, fed her rapist to his own dogs, ruled the North in a Jon’s absence and outsmarted Littlefinger. She had one of the most dramatic and well written character developments on the show. She went from a whiny little girl who had silly dreams of being a princess and a queen to a strong leader and badass Queen in her own right. Jon joined the Night’s Watch, travelled beyond the wall, infiltrated the wildlings, defended the wall against 100,000 wildlings with only 100 men, became Commander of the Night’s Watch, Fought at Hardhome and killed a Whitewalker, created peace between the Wildlings and the rest of the Kingdom, talked the wildlings into fighting with them for winterfell, became King in the North, brought together the greatest army the world had ever seen consisting of northmen, wildlings, the vale, Dany’s forces of the Dothraki, the Unsullied and two Dragons. Found out he was a targaryen prince, marched agaisnt Kings Landing to dethrone Cersei, Killed the mad Queen Daenerys. Hell even Gendry had a better story with starting out as a bastard son of a King, going on the run from the Lannisters, his adventures with Arya, being taken by the Red Woman, having his blood used in a ritual that took out 3 kings, escaping and hiding out right under the noses of those who had tried to kill him, travelling beyond the wall with Jon and fighting against the dead army, returning to winterfell and making all the weapons for the long night, fighting against the AOTD during the long night and then being legitimised. And yet I’m suppose to believe that Bran has the best story because he fell out the window then became a birdman. Sorry but not buying it; if you wanted me to buy it you should have spent some more time on his story.
I know I’m ranting and being harsh but its frustrating because if it had been written properly then it could have worked. I get the idea behind the whole a great story is a powerful thing, its true people love a good story, a good story can inspire people to do great things. A great story can make a person immortal and live on through history. So I agree with Tyrion the next ruler should have a great story but they didn’t spend enough time on Bran’s for it to make sense for him to be the one chosen. The moment the writers were told Bran was the one they should have moved him more to the forefront. They didn’t need to have him as the main focus as such but at least have him a little more involved. Show his powers, more of his skills, show him in a position of leadership. I mean Bran hasn’t shown any skills that would suggest he’d be a good king or leader. He’s become too detached from people and most of the time it seems like he just doesn’t really care about anything. But my main issue that I just keep coming back to is that line about not being able to be lord of anything because he was the Three Eyed Raven. Like I get they didn’t want to give too many hints away that it was going to be Bran but they could’ve changed that line slightly and said something like I can’t be Lord of Winterfell I have a greater destiny to fulfill now. It’s vague enough that most would probably assume he was talking about being the Three Eyed Raven and they wouldn’t have betrayed and contradicted their own writing when a couple of seasons later he becomes King it would have been more of a oh so that’s what he meant when he said that moment. Instead it just felt like they weren’t sure who was going to be king so they just pulled a name out of the hat and it happened to be Bran. They might as well have made Pod king for all the sense it made.
The final thing that bothered me about it was the title they gave him Bran the Broken. I mean really? They could have gone with Bran the Wise or Bran the All Seeing or Bran the Seer or even Bran the Raven. But no lets not focus on the gifts that allow him to see all or the wisdom that he has gained, the things that would make him a worthwhile leader no lets focus on him being in a wheelchair. I don’t know but something about that bothered me, it just didn’t seem right.
The Council
Ok I’m not opposing the council as a concept I do think that having a council like that is a good idea. But the scene just didn’t seem to work for me. First off it did not seem at all realistic to me that when Tyrion said they needed to vote on a Ruler nobody other than Edmure Tully put themselves forward. Like really that’s not really in line with the characters. I thought it would be more like the election of the Commander for the Night’s Watch where you have a few candidates put forward and they all discuss who would be best, you know Davos could have put forward Gendry and talked about how he’s Robert’s son and knows the common folk, Lord Royce could’ve put forward Robin and tried to come up with something that would make him sound good, Arya could have put forward Sansa and then Tyrion Bran. But instead all these powerful Lords and Ladies just stared blankly at each other until one option was put forward to them. At least if more candidates had been put forward there would have been more interest and intrigue in the scene an element of ooh whose it gonna be. Instead it was just boring.
Also and this isn’t really that important and is probably me being a petty b*tch but when Tyrion said ‘you’re the most powerful people in Westeros’ I did have a moment of really these guys are. Like Edmure Tully who spent all of his time either making a fool of himself or as a prisoner, Robin Arryn who was a spoilt little brat and did literally nothing but be others pawn and hide in the Eyrie, a Prince I’ve never seen before, two Lords I’ve never seen before, Yara who yes has some power and is usually pretty badass but lets be honest she spent the last 5 episodes hiding at the Iron Islands, Sam who at this point wasn’t really in any position of power, Davos who again doesn’t technically hold any position of power and as much as I love him Gendry whose been a lord for about a month and doesn’t know how to use a fork. These are the people who are deciding who gets to be the new Ruler. I was just sitting there thinking where were all these people when the Night King was attacking or when they were trying to overthrow Cersei the Tyrant. I mean I appreciate Yara’s loyalty to Dany now that she’s dead but where was she when Dany needed her forces to take Kings Landing hiding on the Iron Islands. I mean if we needed anymore signs that Westeros had gone to hell it was the realisation that these were the most powerful people in Westeros. It’s not the character’s faults its the bad writing but I feel like this scene would have had more of an impact if I actually cared about the people who were there. Which other than the Starks, Tyrion, Sam and Davos and Gendry I didn’t really know any of them let alone care about them.
It Should Have Been Epic
See the thing is this was the final episode it should have been the biggest, most tense, exciting episode ever, I should have been on the edge of my seat the entire time. Instead I was bored. I got to the end of it and just thought nothing happened. It didn’t necessarily need a big battle but it needed more tension. It started out good with Tyrion, Jon, Davos and Arya walking through the city and us seeing all the Dothraki and Unsullied gathered. All of that was good it had tension and that anticipation of what’s going to happen that Game of Thrones is so good at. Then... well the best way I can describe it is that for me it seemed like between the scene where Jon kills Dany and the meeting of the council in the Dragonpit there was a huge chunk of the episode missing. I almost felt like there should have been another episode in between those two moments. I mean Sansa mentions that there are thousands of Northmen at the city walls, well great I’d have liked to have seen that. Show me Sansa getting the news about Dany burning the city, Jon killing her and how the Unsullied now have both Tyrion and Jon captive. I made a prediction post where I said Sansa would hear about Tyrion’s arrest and march the Northmen south to demand his release and the thing is I was kinda right only two differences between my prediction and the show was 1) It was both Tyrion and Jon she marched the army down for and 2) We never actually got to see it we just got told about it. But I wanted to see it, I wanted to see her call the banners. I wanted to see her give a speech to her men getting them riled up and inspired ready to march down south and free their King. I wanted to see Sansa and Arya join up and discuss what they were going to do, for Arya to travel to Storms End and get Gendry’s support and for him to bring his men too, for Sansa to stop at the Vale on the way down and get Robin’s support and at River Run for her Uncle, I wanted to see her army get bigger and bigger as they travelled further South. I wanted to see the men arrive at the walls of Kings Landing and have it completely surrounded, to see the Unsullied on top of the walls looking down and to feel that tension. To see Grey Worm reacting to Jon killing Dany and arresting him, To see him reach out to Yara and the Prince of Dorne who had offered their support of Dany originally to come and avenge her once the Northern forces arrived, I wanted to see the Iron Fleet and the Dornishmen arrive and for the tension to grow with two sides forming those who want Jon and Tyrion free and those who want them punished for betraying Dany. I wanted to be shown Jon and Tyrion in their cells slowly losing hope and see the effect of what they had done, to see that it was playing on their minds that guilt and sorrow and hopelessness growing as time passed. I wanted to see the Starks then treaty for peace and bring the Council together and for them all to agree to sit on the council and give Jon and Tyrion a fair trail. We’d have got to the same place in that dragonpit but it would have been ten times more exciting and nerve wracking because you would have spent the episode wondering if it was going to come to a battle, whether Jon and Tyrion would make it out ok and still be wondering who would end up on the throne. It would have been Game of Thrones at its finest with a good mix of tension and action and political games. It also would have had the advantage of us getting to know those characters that were at the Council a little, maybe not much but it would have been better than what we got.
But instead of them showing us all this happening we were just told and instead we got lots of images of people talking and walking and rearranging chairs. It was almost like the writers wrote 5 episodes carefully planning everything out and then ran out of steam by the 6th one, like they had ran a maratheon and were in the lead only to fall flat on their faces a few metres from the finish line. I just got this sense of ‘that will do, lets call it a day’. Which is heartbreaking because you could see that the actors put everything they had into this show, the crew put everything they had into this show, the editors and special effects crew put everything they had into this show, Ramin Djawadi put everything he had into the score for this show and I just feel like they were all let down in the end by the bad writing.
No Really What Was The Point?
Ok so here are what my thoughts were directly after the episode
What was the point of Jon being resurrected?
What was the point of Jon being a secret Targaryen?
What was the point of the Azor Ahai prophecy and everything the red priestesses were doing?
What was the point of Cersei’s prophecy from Maggie the Frog?
What was the point of Gendry being Legitimised?
Hell what was the point in bringing Gendry back in the first place?
What was the point of the pack survives if all the Starks ended up alone?
What was the point of you have a son I have a daughter if the houses were never joined?
What was the point of Arya’s whole symbolism of choosing to live and her journey home if she was just going to isolate herself and sail off by herself?
What was the point of all the references to Sansa and Tyrion’s marriage (they brought it up in every episode) if they weren’t going to do anything with it?
What was the point of Yara’s whole storyline of becoming Queen of the Iron Islands and having its independence if she wasn’t going to fight for it in the end?
What was the point of Brienne’s vow to protect the Stark Girls and her storyline with Sansa if she was just going to end up as Bran’s Kingsguard instead of Sansa’s Queensguard?
What was the point of Jaime’s redemption arc when they just had him go back on it?
What was the point of Cersei’s pregnancy?
What was the point of Dorne?
I’ll be honest this last episode left me with more questions than answers. Why didn’t Drogon kill Jon? Like I’m glad he didn’t but it still didn’t make sense. Where did he take Dany’s body? Is Jon going to live with the Wildlings or is he just escorting them then coming back. Is he the Lord Commander still? If he isn’t then who is? Did Gilly have a boy or a girl and did she name it Jon if it was a boy? How did Sam become a Maester and if there is still a Night’s Watch shouldn’t Sam have been sent back to the wall? I mean isn’t he technically a deserter? What happened to Nymeria is she still just wandering around the woods? What is the purpose of the Nights Watch now that the White Walkers are gone and peace has been made with the Free folk? Was Gendry on that boat? If he’s not then who’s going to teach him to use a fork? Where is Davos’ wife and is he ever going to see her again? What did Pod do to those whores? What happened when Tyrion took a honeycomb and an jackass into a brothel?
This is a bit of a tangent but my whole family watches GOT and we usually ring around each other and talk about the show. So far only me and one (I have four) of my sisters have seen it. When she rang me right after seeing it she couldn’t even talk about it for good 10 minutes she was so mad and when she finally was able to form words her first ones were ‘I feel like I just wasted 10 years of my life.’ Followed by ‘I can’t believe they ended the greatest show in tv history with a sh*tty episode and by joking about f*cking boats and brothels’ and to be honest I’ve never related more to her in my life lol. But she too kept asking what was the point of ..? She’s also decided that the last season never happened.
The Good Bits
Ok so I didn’t hate every moment of this episode there were some moments that I thought were good so I figured I’d do them last so that we can end on something sweet.
The shot of Dany walking forward and it looks like Drogon’s wings are coming out of her back. That shot was beautiful.
Tyrion finding the bodies of his brother and sister and crying over them had me weeping like a baby. Tyrion might be the God of Tits and Wine but Peter Dinklage is the God of Oscar Worthy Acting. He really knows how to do those emotionally powerful scenes.
Ser Pod
Bronn got his castle.
Ghost got his cuddles.
Sansa is Queen in the North and is slaying it.
Jon saying goodbye to his siblings was also a very emotional scene for me.
Arya and Jon’s scene outside Kings Landing was also sweet.
Brienne filling in Jaime’s pages.
Drogon trying to wake his momma really destroyed me.
Grey Worm keeping his promise to Missandei and going to Naarth.
My favourite moment in the episode though had to have been Tyrion throwing away his Hand of the Queen badge. I don’t even know why but it gave me chills.
Well there you go that’s it for now. I will at some point probably do an analysis of each of the characters story arcs and what I thought of where they all ended up we’ll see how I feel. At the moment I’m still a bit bummed out so. I know that there is a petition going around to re-write the last season but unfortunately that’s not likely to happen but it did get me thinking. As I said what this season really needed was more episodes to flesh it out and help it make more sense. I wonder how much footage ended up on the cutting room floor and whether there’s enough to do like an extended version of the season. They could release it on DVD or something like they do with some films.
Also another thing that might appease me and other fans would be a spin off or sequel. Like they could do a spin off of Arya’s travels west of Westeros. And obviously there’ll be a scene where she goes below deck and there’s gendry or she looks back and there following the ship is a little row boat chasing after them. Just saying lol. But she could also write back to Sansa and Jon and Bran so although the focus would be on Arya we would still learn what’s happening with our characters back home obviously there’d be an invite to Sanrion’s 2nd wedding. Or even give us a ten years later spin off. I mean Tyrion did say ask me in 10 years to Jon. I don’t know what do you guys think? Did any of you enjoy the finale? Did any of you guess Bran as the King? If you had the choice would you like an extended version of this season or would you prefer a spin off?
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When the Devil Cries pt. 31
Fanfic summary: (NO SPOILERS IN THIS STORY) After arriving in Saint Denis, Arthur ends up falling in love with a seemingly innocent pianist, only to find himself in a battle with one of the most notorious outlaws to ever emerge from America. Now, between working for Dutch and robbing money for the gang, Arthur has to also protect the man he loves as the two of them try to find their freedom.
Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Male OC
Previous chapter
This story is also on AO3
Author’s note: *pretends this chapter isn’t late af*
(no but seriously thank you guys for being so patient with my lazy ass. like i said before, i hit a writer’s block and didn’t really know what to do, but i also didn’t want to rush this chapter. so again, thanks for being patient and i hope you enjoy!)
From Atticus’ POV
A WHILE LATER
LEVITICUS’ OFFICE, ANNESBURG
“The trap failed?” Leviticus exclaimed in disbelief as he read the telegram. “We had nearly a dozen men guarding that stagecoach! How on Earth did Van Der Linde’s men manage to kill them all?”
I sat near one of the factory’s windows and casually held a pocket-watch in my palm, staring vehemently at Nathaniel’s portrait which was tucked neatly inside.
“It appears that we underestimated him,” I concluded. “Dutch may be broken, and he may be deluded...but he’s far from unintelligent. No fool would be capable of evading the law for as long as he has. We can’t approach him like some common criminal.”
Cornwall tossed the telegram onto his desk in frustration and let out a sharp breath.
“Well, there must be something we can do! The question is: what? The Pinkertons can’t catch him, the bounty hunters can’t catch him, and even we’ve failed to detain him. It seems as if this man is invincible.”
“He’s not,” I corrected. “None of us are.”
Leviticus placed his hands on his hip. “Well, of course. Though, I’m afraid I’m starting to run out of ideas, Mister Rose. I paid an incredible amount of money to the Pinkertons to aid them in their search for Van Der Linde, but still -- nothing. They give me excuses instead of results. This Dutch robs me, and laughs at me. How are we supposed to capture a man who is seemingly untouchable? It’s all just a mess.”
I stood up, gently snapping the pocket-watch closed.
“Well, if I’ve learned anything from my encounters with Dutch,” I stated, “it’s that he aspires to be a modern king without any willingness to build the throne himself. He helps the poor and abandoned in exchange for their blind loyalty, and casts out those who refuse to bow to him. So perhaps, Mister Cornwall, the solution is not to take down the man himself, but rather, the men around him.”
Leviticus’s head perked up in curiosity. “The men around him, you say? Any...specific names you might be thinking of?”
I pulled out a cigarette and stuck it between my lips, lighting the tip aflame. “...There is one. His name is Arthur Morgan. I understand he’s one of the more trusted members in the gang, and also the same man who happens to be protecting the boy I’m after. I can promise you it’d benefit both of us to kill him.”
Cornwall nodded steadily in agreement. “Yes...I believe I’ve met him before. If I’m not mistaken, he was with Dutch when I ambushed them in Valentine. There’s no denying he’ll be tough to take down, but he’s only one man. We should be able to get rid of him. How do you suggest we start?”
Before I could answer, a gentle thud came from the office’s door as a third party abruptly joined the conversation, causing me and Leviticus to bring our attention to the new arrival.
“Ah,” I said calmly, recognizing their face, “Rodrick. There you are.”
Sauntering into the room with a casual sway to his step, Rodrick gave me and Mister Cornwall a toothy grin as he lay a shotgun on his shoulder, immediately frightening the businessman with the amount of blood that was staining his suit.
“Morning, Atticus,” he greeted, his injured eye making it look as if he were winking. “Sorry to interrupt.”
Leviticus mindlessly backed up out of fear and pointed a shaky finger at Rodrick, looking to me for reassurance.
“Y-You know this man?”
“He’s one of mine,” I confirmed, introducing the two of them. “Mister Kingsley, this is the man I’ve been cooperating with this past week: Mister Cornwall.”
Rodrick chuckled and stepped in front of Leviticus, getting right in the oil man’s face. “...Oh, I know who he is. Pretty bastard’s portraits are all over the goddamned place.” He looked him up-and-down, his smile disappearing. “...I think I prefer you in the paintings.”
The other man stuttered at that and huffed grumpily in response, retreating to his desk while I poured myself a drink and started to ask Kingsley a few questions.
“Rodrick, any updates on Dutch’s camp?”
The redhead leaned against a wall, resting the shotgun on the floor. “Burned it to the ground just like you ordered.”
I took a sip. “Any survivors?”
He sighed in a regrettable yet somehow sarcastic manner. “A couple. I know Dutch managed to escape, and so did a few other nobodies. As for Arthur and Eddie, I think they was runnin’ west, last I saw ‘em. Slipped away during the gunfight, but I doubt they’ll get far. Eddie was injured before they could leave.”
I fell silent due to confusion, pausing for a moment. “Arthur didn’t go with Dutch?”
Rodrick laughed, shaking his head out of amusement. “...Oh, you wouldn’t believe it, but I watched the whole thing. Dutch’s gang tore itself apart before I even got involved. Ended up turnin’ on each other. They’ve all scattered to the winds now.”
I sent an ambitious glance in Cornwall’s direction, the two of us exchanging looks. “So Eddie and Arthur are all by themselves...”
Leviticus jumped back into the conversation, his expression suddenly fueled with motivation. “...As is Van Der Linde. Now is our chance to strike, Mister Rose! If we can manage to trap those reprobates while they’re lost in the wilds, they’ll drop like flies! All our problems will be solved. We must find them as soon as possible!”
Agreeing with Mister Cornwall, I finished the contents of my drink and prepared to head out, giving Rodrick a set of instructions as I made haste for the exit.
“You’re right. Mister Kingsley, return to camp and tell everyone to pack up. I’ll meet you there shortly to explain the plan in full detail, but right now we just need everyone to gather their things. We leave first thing in the morning.”
Rodrick pushed himself off the wall, swinging the shotgun back over his shoulder.
“Sure thing, Atticus.”
Cornwall gestured to himself. “And what of me? Is there any way I can assist?”
I halted in my tracks and glanced over my shoulder, stopping just in front of the office’s door.
“Ah, yes,” I recalled, bringing my focus back to the businessman. “I almost forgot.”
Turning to Rodrick, I reached an arm out in Leviticus’ direction and gave him one final command.
“Rodrick, would you kindly do me a favor and demonstrate an outlaw’s farewell to Mister Cornwall here?”
Instantly catching on to my meaning, the maniacal man smirked and prowled closer to Leviticus, cocking his shotgun in one swift motion.
“With pleasure.”
Backing away from Kingsley, Cornwall raised a defensive hand in front of himself and stammered in fear, staring at me with bewilderment as I took my leave.
“W-Wait, what?!” He blurted out. “A-Atticus! You can’t...you can’t possibly be serious! Mister Rose, please!”
Ignoring the businessman’s pleas for mercy, I simply opened the door and stepped out as if nothing was happening, promptly returning to camp while Rodrick dealt with our “friend.”
“Mister Rose!” Cornwall called out desperately, his voice being muffled by the walls.
“MISTER ROSE!”
The door shut itself closed behind me.
“MISTER ROSE--!”
Sending the factory into a deathly silence, an ear-splitting gunshot erupted from within the office as its explosive bang thundered throughout the halls, echoing in tune with the machinery’s enslaved humming.
I never thought I would say it, but it was finally time to deal with Theodore Bishop.
That little boy had been running away from me for years on end, and now, the chance to eliminate him had revealed itself at last.
There was just one more problem I had to deal with.
I knew Mister Bishop had a relentless guardian who would raise hell if I got anywhere near him, and I knew I would have no chance of killing that boy if I didn’t get rid of his protector first.
I had to ensure that Theodore was all by himself before I did anything else.
I had to make sure there wouldn’t be any chances of failure.
I had to kill Arthur Morgan.
~~~~~~~~~~
From Arthur’s POV
ONE DAY LATER
GRIZZLIES EAST
Desolation.
That was all I could see.
Contrary to the vibrant trees and diverse wildlife that surrounded Beaver Hollow, this place had nothin’ but miles of emptiness to fill its vast space, and a nerve-numbing breeze that chilled me to the bone.
Everywhere around us, there were pale, jagged mountains dominating the white horizon, and no matter how far I traveled or how long we rode, there didn’t seem to be a single sign of civilization.
There weren’t any towns, or saloons, or inns where we could’ve taken shelter -- and I certainly hadn’t spotted any doctors who could’ve taken care of Eddie’s leg.
We were all by ourselves in the middle of this frozen hell, and there was nowhere else we could run.
Nowhere except straight into our enemies’ hands.
“...H-Hold on, Eddie.” I whispered through chattering teeth as the boy weakly leaned his body against my back. “We’ll...we’ll be safe soon. We’ll find shelter. Just hold on. You hear me?”
Barely clingin’ onto consciousness, the pianist said nothing in response and simply rested his head on my shoulder, gently wrapping an arm around my waist as we trudged through the thick blanket of snow.
It was pretty clear that Eddie wasn’t gettin’ any better with the condition his leg was in, and part of me worried he would never truly recover from the injury. I mean, he could barely stand on his own anymore. What the hell were we gonna do if Atticus or Dutch found us? How was he gonna run? How were we gonna escape?
I just didn’t know where to go from this point.
Our camp was in ruins, Dutch had run off with Micah, Eddie couldn’t walk, Atticus was closin’ in on us, and for the first time in over two decades...I no longer had a gang to call family.
The world that had raised me to become an outlaw, and turned me into a man who cared only about money, was now collapsing ‘cause of the very same foundation that built it. The America I grew up in no longer existed, and now, reality was showin’ me the consequences of everything we had done.
But I wasn’t gonna fail this time.
I wasn’t gonna be the same man who failed to save Eliza or Isaac when they needed me. I was gonna put someone else’s life first for a change, and keep Eddie safe. No matter the cost. I just needed to keep him alive.
Ridin’ a bit deeper into the relentless blizzard, I felt a sense of relief wash over me when a small cabin suddenly revealed itself in the distance, causing me to take a better look at it with my binoculars.
The cabin was located right next to the edge of a large, icy lake -- a lake that looked strangely familiar, if I was bein’ honest -- and there was a short pier extending over the water next to it with a boat sittin’ nearby.
As for the cabin itself, it didn’t look like any mounts had been tied to the hitching post recently, and there were no lights illuminating from inside. The building appeared completely still -- aside from the strong breeze howlin’ past it -- and I couldn’t see any tracks leading up to the front door. It must’ve been abandoned.
I quickly put my binoculars away, instantly urgin’ my horse into a steady gallop as she dug her hooves into the snow.
“Look, Eddie,” I said, pointing ahead, “...you see that? There’s a cabin. We’re gonna be okay. I’m gonna get you inside, and I’m gonna get a nice fire going. You’re gonna be alright. Just...just stay strong. Okay? Don’t die on me now. Don’t you die.”
~~~~~~~~~~
A FEW MINUTES LATER
O’CREAGH’S RUN
Kickin’ the cabin’s door open, I firmly held my pistol out in front of me and searched the house in case somethin’ nasty was waiting inside, only to find myself in the middle of a cold, dead house.
It didn’t look like anyone had been here in ages. There were empty cans of food scattered all over the kitchen table, stiff coats hangin’ lifelessly from hooks on the wall, mounted animal heads fixed above the fireplace, dusty photographs decorating the bleak interior, and nothin’ but ashes sitting in the place of what was once a warm fire.
It looked safe enough to stay for a few days -- or at least until Eddie could walk on his own again -- and there were also loads of winter clothes just lyin’ around for us to take. I didn’t have a clue what happened to their previous owner or what caused them to leave, but it was better than freezin’ our asses off in that goddamned snowstorm.
I put my gun away, deciding this would have to do for now.
Headin’ back outside, I slowly pushed through the dying blizzard and walked towards my horse as my boots sank into the crunchy snow below, hindering me much more than I expected.
It was tough enough navigating our way around here -- what with the ice-cold weather and lack of any civilization -- but it certainly didn’t help matters that we were both starving, tired, and entirely sleep-deprived.
I could only imagine how Eddie felt with that injured leg of his. Not only did the boy look like hell, the kid had also barely said a word to me ever since we fled from Beaver Hollow.
There was a certain hopelessness to him that I’d never seen before -- the same kind that Hosea carried in his final moments -- and even though he didn’t say it, I knew he thought we were both gonna die out here.
He just didn’t seem to care about anything anymore, now that our chances of survival were so low. And despite my reassurances, Eddie almost appeared to be...lost in his own head. As if he were finally learnin’ how to accept his own death. Like...he was comin’ to terms with the end. As if he believed our efforts had been for nothing.
...But I wasn’t gonna allow it.
We had fought too goddamned hard to die now. The whole word may have been against us, and Dutch may have been seekin’ revenge, but this wasn’t the first time Eddie and I had been forced to survive in the wilderness. We both knew what we were doing, and no matter how hard our enemies fought back, I wasn’t about to let ourselves get killed now.
We had to survive. We had to make it through this.
Steppin’ next to my horse, I looked up at Eddie who was currently slouched over in the saddle and placed a comforting hand on his lap, attempting to wake the boy up now that the sun was starting to sink behind the icy mountains.
“Hey,” I said, “I checked the cabin out. It looks pretty safe. Doesn’t seem like anyone’s been there for quite some time, and there’s also a fireplace inside. I think we can stay here for a while. What d’you think?”
Forcing his eyes open, Eddie weakly gazed at me and wrapped his coat tighter around himself, mumbling out a response.
“...Sounds good to me. Hell, anything does, so long as it’ll get us out of this...bloody snow...”
I reached my arms out, beckoning Eddie to climb down from the horse. “C’mon,” I offered, “I’ll help you down.”
Surprisingly, the boy refused.
“...N-No,” he protested, holding a hand up, “I...I can walk...”
“No, you can’t.” I insisted before scoopin’ Eddie into my arms and carrying him anyway. “Your leg is torn up. It’s gonna be a while until you’re walkin’ around anywhere on your own, but don’t worry. I’m gonna set you down somewhere, and...I’ll...I’ll have a look at it, I guess. See what else I can do.”
Eddie gave in to my persistence and practically melted into my grasp, croaking out his next words as he wrapped an arm ‘round my shoulder.
“...T-Thank you, Arthur.”
Taking Eddie to the front of the cabin, I pushed the door open with my foot and carefully brought the boy inside, rushing him over to the couch in front of the fireplace.
It wasn’t the softest or most extravagant couch -- and it looked like the cold had hardened it a bit, actually -- but it was right next to the only source of heat in the whole house. There were a lot worse places we coulda been at the moment, and I was just grateful we found some shelter to last us for more than a single night. It would have to do.
Gently layin’ Eddie on the couch, I paused for a moment when he let out a pained groan and checked to make sure he was okay before placing him down completely, allowing him to sink into the welcoming cushions.
“You alright?” I asked, earning a small nod from the pianist.
“...I-I think so.” He replied.
I knelt beside the couch, gesturing to his leg. “You, uh...mind if I take a look?”
Eddie sighed worriedly, clearly not eager to see the condition his injury was in. “I suppose someone will have to, eventually. Just...try not to move it around too much, okay? It...it hurts like hell.”
Slippin’ one of Eddie’s boots off, I placed the shoe aside and took hold of his knee before very delicately pulling up the edge of his pants, steadily unveiling a bloody mess as I untied the bandage I put there earlier.
It looked like the skin around the wound had only grown more agitated over the past day, and due to the lack of proper medical treatment, I could only assume it wouldn’t be too long before Eddie got somethin’ life-threatening like blood poisoning.
After all, there wasn’t much else I could do ‘cept for clean the wound and keep it from gettin’ infected. But even then, I didn’t know how to deal with an injury of this severity. There were no doctors around to help us out, and I weren’t exactly an expert when it came to stuff like this.
Goddammit. There had to be somethin’ I could do.
“...I won’t lie to you, Eddie,” I admitted with a nervous sigh. “It don’t look so good. The bleeding’s stopped for now, but we’re gonna need a professional to handle this.”
The pianist clenched his jaw in fear. “We don’t...we don’t have to...get rid of the leg, do we?”
“No!” I quickly assured. “No. It ain’t that bad. You’ll be fine. I’m sure we’ll think of something. In the meantime, you just rest, okay? I’m gonna get a fire going. It’s freezin’ in here.”
Standing up from the floor, I left Eddie alone for the time being and tossed a few logs into the fireplace before lightin’ a match on my boot, setting the wood aflame. It weren’t much compared to the wintry nightmare outside, but it shoulda been enough to warm this cabin up for now.
“Alright,” I said, turnin’ back to Eddie, “I’m gonna head outside for a little and see if I can’t find us somethin’ to eat. You gonna be okay on your own?”
Eddie barely nodded in response, already half-asleep. “...I’ll be fine...”
“Okay, then. I’ll be back soon.”
Grabbin’ my hand just before I could leave, the pianist held me back for a second as he uttered one last thing, rubbing my palm affectionately.
“...Please, stay safe, Arthur. We’re all we have now...and I don’t wanna see you end up like me. Or worse.”
I bent down, placin’ a quick but loving kiss on Eddie’s forehead.
“We’re gonna make it, Eddie.” I reassured. “Don’t give up just yet. ‘Cause I haven’t given up on you.”
“...I won’t.” Eddie promised, softly closing his eyes as he relaxed into the couch’s embrace. “I won’t.”
“Good.” I patted his hand. “Now get some sleep. I’m gonna go hunting for a bit. I won’t be too long.”
Leavin’ Eddie to his dreams, I gave the boy one final peck on the cheek and headed for the cabin’s foyer, eager to find us some food.
We weren’t gonna last much longer if we didn’t get somethin’ proper to eat soon -- and I didn’t know about Eddie -- but surviving off of chewing tobacco and canned sweetcorn didn’t sound like it’d get us far. Especially him.
Eddie needed strength now more than anything. His health was deteriorating at a dangerous pace, and I just hoped it wasn’t too late to do something about that leg of his.
We needed a way outta this situation, and we needed it fast.
The only question was...how were we gonna find it?
Swingin’ the front door open, I wasted no time in throwing myself back out into the snow as I hurried to my horse, only to notice that there was a stranger standing directly in my path.
At first, my initial instinct was to reach for my gun -- and I actually almost shot him on the spot -- but the closer I looked at the peculiar man, the less I saw him as a threat.
The man in front of me appeared to be in his late fifties or sixties and had a full head of grey hair as well as a long beard huggin’ the bottom of his jaw. He wore a wide, floppy hat with a feather attached to it along with a long, yellow coat, and the rest of his body was dressed in casual attire.
The one thing about him that really caught my attention though, was the rickety crutch tucked tightly under his armpit, and more importantly, the intricate, prosthetic leg secured to his knee.
Oh, Jesus Christ. I certainly hoped he wasn’t mirroring Eddie’s future.
Hobbling a few steps closer to me, the old man firmly aimed a revolver in my direction as he glanced at the fresh smoke comin’ from the cabin’s chimney, wonderin’ just who the hell I was.
He didn’t appear to be afraid of me or show any signs of nervousness, and if I was being honest, he actually seemed quite strong. There wasn’t a single hint of fear hidin’ in his expression, and judging by the majestic, golden horse that was trottin’ along beside him, I assumed this old man weren’t as feeble as he looked. It only piqued my interest in him more.
Bringin’ his stern, green eyes back to me, the stranger subtly flicked his gaze up and down as he examined me head-to-toe, forming an observation in his head before finally saying something, at last.
I could tell he wanted to just scare me off and be done with it, but I guessed something about the urgent demeanor I carried and the way I moved told him I was in need of somebody’s help. And being the good Samaritan he was...he just couldn’t shoo me away.
Breaking the silence, the old man tilted his head in suspicion and fearlessly walked up to me, finally decidin’ to greet the odd cowboy who had suddenly occupied his home.
“Nice of you to get the fire going.”
#red dead redemption#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#arthur morgan#eddie ryan#arthur morgan x male oc#rdr2 fanfic#rdr2 story
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The awakening (Demon! Yoongi x Reader/ Smut)
Part 3
Word Count: 10k
Genre: Demon! BTS, Demon Au, Prince Au, Angst, Romance, Smut
Pairing: Demon! Yoongi x Reader
Character appearance: Park Jimin, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jung Hoseok, Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jeongguk
Warnings: Cursing, Graphic violence // Oral, Sexy times
Authors Note: The spacing, and the words written in Italic means it’s a flashback/ memory.
Summary: Y/N is a mere human, who one day unsuspectingly fell into hell. And not just a random part of hell or the top level, no she fell right inside the mansion where the prince of darkness lives. Instead of casting her back to earth, or imprison her because it’s hell after all he decides to spare her life. But the prince of darkness who may be the most powerful demon to walk to earth and rule hell, still is a growing young man who has to face all types of threats. Maybe she is one too?
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 (The End)
Oh, I don’t want to be here. Ohhh noooooo I don’t want to see that, just…oh bljekk, ew no. Is he really going to…ah yep he’s cutting into the dude’s throat nope…don’t throw up Y/N, don’t…oh man the gurgling noises are even worse ewwwwwww. Lunch stay down, please don’t throw up and make an ever-bigger fool of yourself, again. Ew, nope, ah...I burp involuntarily hiding it with a fake cough, letting my head hang low for the moment, eyes closing, as I run my tongue over my teeth. There’s nothing in your mouth Y/N no need for the gag reflex to be triggered so much…oh great more sounds of chocking. Chocking on his own bl-bloo-d.
I glance to my left towards the throne, and the still unphased prince who only has raised an eyebrow. There’s Namjoon standing on his left side with an emotionless expression as well, staring at what’s happening before them.
I dare a glance forward and fuck no that’s so much blood. Fuck this. Hey do you wanna do something fun? Yes Yoongi of course. Fucking bastard I didn’t think beheading someone was a fun thing to watch and well in Taehyung’s case do.
Another louder gurgle echoes around, Tae’s deep voice asking the same question he has been ever since this whole torture thing started. But the pain evident in the noises the lesser demon is letting out are enough to flip my stomach. And I though it was under control. But nope. Without saying anything to anyone I stand up, ignoring the eyes that immediately turn and focus onto me and make my way quickly, towards the door I was lead through not even half an hour ago.
Okay to rough, I grab onto the handle to hard and stumble over my own two feet as I jump into the narrow hallway leaving the throne room behind me. Quickly shutting the door behind me, the noises are cut off finally and I feel as if I can take a deep breath in relief.
Looking left and right, nobody is in sight. I eagerly step away from the doors, hearing a scream. An unpleasant shiver runs down my spine, making me shake my head as I march over to the giant windows, that show the gardens on the west side of the palace. The skies are still stretching out in trademark darkness, with a hint of red unlike the night sky that’s dark blue. We’re in hell, after all no light like the sun can be expected to shine here. Expect the pits of hell I’ve heard that there’s light there, as its literally fire and lava. Makes sense as it’s the centre of earth. Doh. Logic. And science too. Besides demons and angels actually existing which makes the whole science thing question itself. But that’s not my mystery to discover, or to question too much.
I offer a smile as I met kind brown eyes, Hoseok grinning widely raising his hand as he waves to me from the garden having stopped for a moment, with picking flowers. Why he’s doing that in the first place beats me, but only now I realize the flowers are alive. Huh. I wave back, hiccupping still feeling a bit nauseous, which has me huffing a moment later as he turns his back to me returning to his task. The whispers are back in my earshot, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I turn around another hiccup coming up, which luckly can be masked as a jump of surprise as I see Yoongi soundlessly close the door after himself.
‘’Are you alright?’’’ he asks the emotionless expression morphing into one of concern.
‘’Peachy.’’ I reply lying through my teeth which has him immediately frowning as he makes his way towards me ‘’Just had this urge to, look at the garden. Didn’t even realize till now that the flowers are actually alive!’’ I point out hoping it’s going to distract him.
He hums, pose straightening up as he stops to stand right next to me, the whispers calming down and quieting ‘’Human’s have always had a way of depicting things to their liking.’’ He starts a smile raising over his lips, eyes darting onto me.
The side of my mouth raises as I nod ‘’We also don’t learn from our mistakes much.’’ I point out, flinching as a shout rings out from the throne room, but gets cut off abruptly. Its not hard to imagine what happened to the poor guy, but it’s my imagination that makes it 100x worse than it has to be.
I’m quick to turn around to face the garden, my heavy breathing noticeable in the quiet that’s surrounding us ‘’Would you like to go for a walk?’’ comes a question. Unlike most folks here I look at him daringly into his eyes, expression sincere. There’s nothing implying that he’s mocking me or having a laugh. Only softy features, and kind eyes.
Its still nagging me, this whole mystery that he’s enwrapped into. At least to me. I feel as if he’s an open book, but at the same time I can’t read him.
‘’Don’t you…’’ a hiccup raises up my throat as well as some acid that I mask with a cough again ‘’Ah I’m sorry. Don’t you have royal duties to be present at?’’ I go on covering my mouth with my hand as he takes a step even closer, his eyes piercing right through me.
‘’It’s Monday. Namjoon can handle the lesser demons.’’ He replies raising a hand up in offering. He has again a soft smile on, lips enticing.
I manage a faint nod, accepting his hand which yet again to my surprise is warm. The first time he was icy cold, I’ll never forget the sensation. And yet whenever he touches me now, even brushes his finger against my cheek to brush away a strand of hair, he’s warm. It gets me giddy every time he does touch me, because a sense of security settles over me. I feel as if nothing bad can happen with him, and yes that is so cliché and overused, but I feel like before my amnesia I didn’t feel safe much. My body indicates that, as my muscle memory sometimes makes me do odd things. Defensive ones most of the times, as the fight ones (fight or flight response) I’ve only experienced two times when a demon threatened the prince. I wanted to slit his throat which is gruesome and oddly specific if you think about it. And yet I know I could do it with my own hands without batting an eye.
‘’Okay let’s go.’’ I breathe in shakily and tug him forward instead. He jumps after me in surprise but honey chuckles fill out the eeriness of the palace, which is usually cold and void. That’s my feeling, he on the other hand knows where everyone is at all times thanks to his shadows.
‘’Y/N.’’ He speaks up making me realize he’s walking with a slower pace, which has me bowing my head down in embarrassment and also trying to hide away the blush as well, while I fall back into step with him.
‘’Sorry.’’ I mumble turning left into another corridor as he silently leads us, noticeably taking a step closer to walk right next to me.
‘’Are you sure you’re feeling well??? I don’t mean to be unkind, but you seem rather pale.’’ He comments taking two steps in front of me making sure I stop for sure which only startles me, as I almost walk into him being my clumsy self.
‘’Ah I’m fine. Maybe the corset of this dress is a bit to thigh.’’ A half lie. I’m comfortable enough while standing its only when I have to sit down that breathing is slightly an issue. His eyes dart down taking my figure in, curses spilling in my mind at myself. Now he’s checking me out and this isn’t even the best piece of clothing in the closet. Great.
‘’We should…’’
‘’Nahh it’s fine. All good. I wanna see the flowers. So please lead the way.’’
‘’You are a very stubborn human. Has anyone ever told you that?’’
I grin instead as he opens a door which I though was a window, but I step outside not marvelling at the secret ‘’Many times, by many people.’’ His smile makes my heart flutter, before my nose gets assaulted by the smell of flowers which are potted in pots hanging over the railings of the balcony. And hell is supposed to be a bad place. Certainly not bad with having the prince of darkness for company, who wouldn’t have taught I’d find myself here one day huh?
I’ve always liked flowers, even if it’s another cliché thing. Or not, I mean I can still be a girl and like flowers it doesn’t make me cheesy or anything. But I always did pick flowery scents over all others, maybe that’s why when I stumbled upon Yoongi out of all the boys, he was the one that pulled me in the most. Because he smelled like flowers, having spent that same afternoon in the gardens. I’m not surprised at all once I open my eyes for them to land not on the flowers themselves but on the man, who holds my heart and soul and who has made me pull back my thorns allowing him in.
He has his head slumped forward in an awkward angle as he’s situated on the armchair which he must have dragged across the whole room, just to sit next to me. I smile at how ridiculous he is as I’m comfortably laid in the middle of his king-sized bed, where there’s plenty of room for him to have laid down properly. I’d welcome it even. Even though I’m covered with a thick duvet and fresh sheets I feel cold, a shiver running over me unpleasantly after the thought.
But as my brain wakes slowly, so does my body and the first thing I notice is something holding onto my right hand. Looking down, his fingers are loosely intertwined with my own. So that’s why he’s half slumped. I try readjusting myself but a sharp pain crosses through my whole body enlightening 3 spots specifically. Chest, hip and hand. Given that my hands are out I glance at my left one not feeling much strength in it. It’s all bandaged up and moving my fingers is a bad idea as it brings pain and wounded sounds to leave my lips which I bite into to keep silent. My eyes dart onto the prince but he only shifts, a frown settling onto his soft features.
There are dark bags under his eyes, clothes slightly wrinkled and I bet he’s going to be so sore when he wakes up from the awkward position he has put himself into. Ah Yoongi…
‘’You are terrible at acting.’’ I find myself speaking out loud lips stretching into a smile ‘’Truly awful. An then I’m considered being a bad liar.’’ The statement brings a smile to his lips the illusion completely broken, hence why he opens his eyes and looks up at me, hair falling into his face.
‘’You are a bad liar. The worst.’’ His voice seems slightly gruff as if he has been screaming to much. I only click my tongue instead and close my eyes.
‘’Meanie.’’ I mumble feeling his hand tighten around my own, and feel him shift around.
‘’Just speaking the truth.’’ He goes on sounding amused prompting me to look at him now from curiosity. He leans onto the left side of the armchair to be closer, pose straightening up, but I still think he’s going to feel sore.
‘’Why aren’t you lying here with me? There’s plenty of space!’’ I point out immediately ‘’Also what happened? Did I fall or something?’’ I ask raising my left arm, examining the bandage spotting a light patch which I think is blood on top of my hand. A memory flashes before my eyes, of me staring down at an arrow sticking from my hand, dark blood dripping around the wound. Ouch. I feel the pain ghosting over, and it’s not pleasant.
He straightens up more concern again washing over his features ‘’How much do you remember?’’ he asks voice gentler than usual.
I try and think what’s the last thing I remember but I’m blanking out, some weird flashes crossing my mind ‘’A nightmare?’’ I ask ‘’The sky was bloody red, that’s how its panted in my memory and the wind whistling…something whistling and shouting…’’ I go on my head starting to gradually hurt ‘’And then…blood?’’ I glance down at my left hand again shifting wanting to raise up but he’s quick moving in, hands careful as he presses his fingers gently onto my shoulders pushing me back down.
‘’Don’t get up, just lie still alright?’’ he goes on making sure I’m lying down properly again ‘’What else do you remember?’’ he prods on, sitting on the bed at least hand finding my own once more. It’s comforting his closeness, but also the reassurance is kind of not necessarily scaring me but it’s making me worried that he’s not telling me something important.
‘’I…’’ I start and close my eyes frowning as the pain is back. I feel as if something is pounding in my head, banging on my skill trying to pry it open, pressure building ‘’…I c…ah…’’ tears quickly gather in my eyes and spill down my cheeks, chest feeling full but empty. I feel like I’m suffocating slowly and quickly, and like my heart is so full ready to burst, and it’s to much, and there’s to much blood and pain and fear and there’s Yoongi staring at me with mischief written in his eyes, the smirk offering me reassurance but there’s also Yoongi shouting with tears spilling down his porcelain cheeks face contorted into one of pain as he shouts. And he shouts, from the agony and fear.
‘’Hey, hey, hey, hey…Y/N…’’ I can hear him through the haze as I stare back into his beautiful brown eyes, the grey having bleed back to reveal his own dark orbs that always whenever I get the chance to see them I feel like I see into a part of his soul. I feel closer to him ‘’Stop please jagiya, it’s alright don’t think about anything alright focus on me okay, focus on me my voice and my heart beat can you do that…’’ he moves closer propping my upper body up carefully. He tugs my hand making my fingers spread palm pressed firmly against something flat.
There just so much pain he feels, the way his shadows grow around us. They’re basically swallowing the world in they’re wake. Nobody is safe. Whoever hurt him will pay the price. Whoever hurt him I will personally hunt down and rip them limb from limb whoever…
I can feel something thump against my palm ‘’Y/N.’’ he whispers voice sounding broken which has me opening my eyes to look up at him surprised with seeing his eyes filled with tears.
And I look up at him in confusion all the pain and overwhelming emotions and feelings wash away, getting replaced by my own worry towards him ‘’Hey.’’ I whisper ‘’Why are you…’’ but he’s suddenly leaning down, soft lips pressing against my own which renders me stiff at the sudden movement. And its not the first time we’ve kissed it’s just the action that is just surprising. I quickly relax in his hold and return the brush of the lips, letting him slowly and gently lead it, as he prompts himself onto his elbows still holding onto my right hand, bending it near my head not breaking the kiss even once while he manoeuvres us so I’m lying down again and he’s holding himself up keeping his weight off me completely.
This feels right. It feels familiar and feels new, exciting, makes my heart flutter and butterflies raise in my stomach. Even though I know this time it’s different. Despite the tingling in my left hand I raise it up to run my fingers through his jet-black locks which I’ve had only once the pleasure of touching for a brief moment. His hair is as velvety and soft as I’d imagine it would be so I gladly burry my fingers in, sighing contently into the kiss air running thin but who cares. I’m kissing the love of my life.
He always did complain about my stubbornness the most. It has me grinning widely as he sighs clearly annoyed at me breaking the kiss. I chuckle silently while he settles on resting his forehead against my own instead ‘’I win.’’ I whisper gleefully opening my eyes to look at him. Despite the slightly awkward angle, I can see he’s not amused as he’d usual be. He’s keeping his eyes closed not moving away an inch…something is wrong ‘’Hey.’’ I whisper tightening my fingers around his ‘’Yoongi-yah.’’ I try again but it doesn’t get a reaction I’d wish to see. His eyes open, and there are still unshed tears threatening to spill ‘’What’s wrong my love?’’ I continue whispering while he leans a tiny bit back, but keeps himself close, eyes taking me in as if he’s engraving my face into his mind.
‘’I almost lost you.’’ He whispers in return the statement surprising me but I try not letting it show as I bring my hand to the front to cup his cheek, trace it with my thumb gently.
‘’Not possible. I’m too stubborn, aren’t I?’’ I try teasing him but his lower lip only tightens ‘’Hey…’’ I coo again ‘’Please don’t dwell on what might have happened. I’m, here aren’t I? And so are you.’’
But he growls instead, shadows flickering across the room ‘’You’ve been bedridden for a week, almost lost your hand, you’ve lost so much blood I barely got you to wake up, it’s not fine at all. Nothing is fine!!! Its all my fault and my fault alone!!! I should have never let you stay in the f…’’ he stops himself lifting himself up into a sitting position. Its not hard to figure out what the last words mean.
‘’Sorry for being a pest then. It’s not like I wanted to end up in hell…’’
‘’Ah no Y/N…’’
‘’It’s not like I wanted to lose all my memories and who I really am, and just trust demons not even humans with my life and everything. Not like I wished for this to happen, any of this…’’ I start pushing myself up ignoring how my wounds ignite tenfold.
‘’Don’t you dare move, you’re going to open your wounds…’’ he tries to reach out for me but I slap his hand away and continue pushing myself away from him.
‘’It’s not like I wanted to fall in love with you, not like I was ready to give someone let alone the prince of the underworld and darkness my heart, and let myself be bare and vulnerable after what feels like forever just to be his regret, I’m sorry for…’’ he’s quick to pin me back down onto the bed lips crashing against my own. And I do try and fight it, I really do but the pain gets too much, I feel the wounds flaring but also the tears that unwillingly shed and break my resolve.
‘’N-no…get off m-me…’’ I try and break the kiss but he’s not letting me, pinning my arms down and straddling me properly. I can feel shadows simmering around us, feel their touches ghosting over me. And it should be weird, should at least freak me out, should make me scared but I’m not.
Its reassuring that’s what it is. So as if I’m being eased into it, I start to let go...my will shifting...so I let him devour my mouth, kiss turning more passionate and demanding, hands loosening their hold into gentle caresses as he gets closer his body heat warming me up.
‘’You have no idea, how much you mean to me.’’ breaking the kiss he breathes out hands cupping my face eyes honest as well as his expression as he looks at me ‘’No idea how much my heart longs to see your face every second of the day, to see you smile and hear you laugh. See you blush because of something I did, or get you fumbling adorably.’’ And then the tears are spilling down his cheeks landing over my own startling me ‘’I was so scared.’’ His voice goes into a whisper ‘’There is no me anymore. You’re me. You’re my reason for anything and everything.’’
I just stare up at him in disbelief pain flourishing into one of love for him, both emotions coexisting in my heart hurting and soothing me ‘’Seeing you so hurt, and the way you just accepted your destiny…’’ he takes in a sharp breath straightening up a bit expression getting serious ‘’You’re never leaving me! Do you understand that?!’’ the shadows raise up over the walls around the room swallowing the light from the lamps mounted on the walls. Not a trickle of fear appears in me.
‘’I do.’’ I reply which has his nodding firmly.
‘’Never ever!’’ he goes on firmly with a convincing and possessive tone ‘’Because I can’t…I c-can’t without you…’’ his voice breaks and this time around I reach for his hands over my cheeks, and lean up ignoring how every cell in my body protests crippling pain blooming in my chest and hip but it doesn’t matter. I reach up to kiss him, wanting to portray some emotions this way because not everything can be put into words. He’s quick to return it tongue quick to demand entrance. Its filthy and messy but neither of us care.
But the pain does get unbearable, I can only endure so much and the white spots dancing behind my closed eyelids are a good warning, to let go.
Whining into the kiss he’s quick to back away hands wrapping around me ‘’Lie down.’’ He whispers and this time I don’t protest and do as he tells me, watching as he follows right after face hovering inches from my own, eyes still not leaving me ‘’How much in pain are you?’’ he asks instead of asking if I’m in pain at all. It’s just a testament how much he does know me after all.
‘’Bearable. The judges say I’ll live.’’ I reply with a smile but he shakes his head immediately.
‘’Don’t joke about something like that.’’ he almost snarls ducking down pressing a kiss to my cheek and then just continues to trace kisses, hand cupping the other side of my face moving it to his liking.
‘’Touchy.’’ I whisper earning myself a growl in return that has me chuckling. My front brushes with his own, as he has gotten himself comfortable, still hovering over me not yet touching me like I’d like too, meaning he’s holding himself back for some reason ‘’Yoongi-yah…’’ I breathe out wanting to get his attention but he seems engrossed with tracing kisses down my neck, lips ghosting over my ear the sensation making me shudder. Realization crawls upon me, reality making itself present suddenly. It’s happening.
He’s still keeping his distance somewhat, weight shifted of me which still means he is holding himself back. My hands trail up again tugging onto his hair gently getting his attention ‘’Please…’’ I mutter pleadingly his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. I know where his emotions are going to lead him from confusion into panic. So, I cup his face this time, bringing his head closer. His hands that were over my shoulders brace onto the bed, as he complies into my demand and returns my kiss easily.
Getting my right hand free, I urge him by pushing at his shoulder and lift my left leg up with strain but with a clear intent ‘’No, we can’t…’’ he breaks the kiss ready to protest. I’m faster though, sealing our lips back together again.
I start sliding my hands down over the silky shirt he’s wearing, fingers finding the top of the black pants he has on. His skin is exposed as the shirt has ridded up. To my disapointement he’s quicker, hand shothing down catching my wrists and stopping me just as two fingers slide under, to trace against his underwear ‘’Y/N-ah.’’ He speaks in warning glaring at me with darker eyes than usual. I offer a smile in return pecking his lips before he’s moving away ‘’Stop. I know what game you’re playing at and it won’t work.’’
He goes on completely serious while I slump back onto the bed pouting, trying to look adorable as much as I can as I blink even repeatedly ‘’You don’t want me?’’
I shouldn’t be so aroused, but I am at the snarl that leaves from his throat his shadows flaring around the room, making the lights flicker. Only now I notice how they have ‘eaten up’ our surroundings.
‘’You don’t understand how much I want you.’’ My eyes quickly flicker back to meet his own, that are changing into the two silver orbs who would make any mortal and some immortals instantly look away and repent for their sins on spot. But it does things to me. It has the opposite effects. My skin practically tingles, electricity buzzing in the air we breathe. I feel as any kind of move can set spark off which means it will end up blazing into an unstoppable fire. My breath hitches in my throat upon his statement ‘’I want to devour you whole…’’ I pick up on how his shadows which start to whisper voices picking up on a more melodic tone ‘’I want to devour your soul and body, I want to mark you up so every creature in this or other realms will see that you’re mine! You belong to me.’’ By the end of the speech he’s growling, silver irises staring at me with a cold hard gaze but I can see past it, I can see the lust, the want, the need and love dare I say it hidden behind the masked layers he has built in his life time. He had to, to survive. As well as I. But he’s bare before me and that is an enormous difference.
He climbs over my legs and rests in between them the duvet being moved along to reveal my left leg. He’s careful with manoeuvring it to the side and around his hip. Something rustles on the sheet making me panic for a moment, because his hand is touching my thigh the other placed near my head ‘’Shhhh…’’ he gently shushes me my breathing becoming harder at the scare. I glance down seeing a shadow sprouting from him, and how it bends at odd angles that don’t follow the lighting of the lamps. It dips down across the white sheets, over the creases gliding up till my nightdress that has raised upon my leg hanging as it is in the air. I stare how the shadow still whispering softly, raises over the flimsy material of the blue nightgown I’ve been dressed in.
Glancing silently up at Yoongi he has this small smile on his face, staring down at what the shadow is doing. I can see and sense the playful mood he has fallen in to. I gasp upon the brush and feather touch over the wound on my hip the slight pressure lessening ‘’Ah ‘m sorry…’’ he breathes out leaning in, to brush his lips against my own, while I furrow my brow trying to get my breathing under control as it’s still laboured. There’s this anticipation clinging onto me which I can’t figure out exactly why there’s a hint of fear in the first place.
An involuntary whine leaves from between my lips when the touch returns, the wound in pulses spreading the pain, my brain registering it as danger. But his kisses that deepen and hard teeth nipping at my lower lip at some point distracts me completely from feeling how the shadows slither under my back to touch upon the wound on my chest. It does bring a blush to flare up over my cheeks, as the shadows like water seem to ripple around across my bare skin under the flimsy dress which is more of a bother as the shadows room over my skin, earning shivers to shake me when brushing certain points.
With the lack of oxygen, he pulls away licking over my lower lip teasingly which has me trace my own lip after he moves away. The smirk that he sports, makes me feel weak, and quiver at the way he’s looking at me. As if he’s the predator and I am the pray; he’s going to savour this, and absolutely devour me.
‘’So gorgeous…’’ he breathes out sitting up on his knees, spreading his own under me forcing both of my thighs to rest against his, knees bent around him. His right hand is still supporting my left side though, and remarkably the pain is gone. I don’t feel the strain over my hip and chest, only on my left arm where it’s still present ‘’Let’s get this off, I want to see you…’’ he goes on not even waiting for a reply as his long fingers grab the end of the dress. I simply stare how effortless he just splits the clothing in two right down the middle, revealing me all at once. I stare at him with my lips parted, as he makes quick work off tugging the material from under me, all the while his still silvery eyes are darting around over my skin and curves clearly taking me in. The bandages don’t cover much of me up but they do make me feel insecure upon my scarred skin. I have this strong feeling through creeping up on me that he isn’t going to be too bothered by it.
The ghosting touch gets me to tare my eyes away from him regrettably, seeing the shadow that’s not entirely black as it trails over from the top of my shoulder and slithers downwards, over my bicep, elbow, the inside of my forearm, and then pries my fingers gently to open up, while it settles there covering my palm completely but not like the bandage does. Its soothing as if its massaging and chasing the pain away, or maybe taking it from m…
My eyes widen upon the realization, settling onto the prince again who has gone to work over the front buttons of his shirt. My mouth falls closed tongue darting out to lick over my dry lips as he’s staring at me with hooded eyes that are shouting ‘Want’ while the silky material falls open finally, his hands, his long fingers making work of tugging it off. I whine when he starts stalling. The bastard even chuckles and tsks ‘’Patience Y/N-ah, haven’t you learned anything from being with me all this time? Good things come to those who wait.’’
I simply groan and shamelessly run my eyes over his pecks, how smooth his porcelain skin is. There’s not a single mark on him, arms strong and defined, veiny hands and fingers…I already know the capability of them how he can so effortlessly squeez a life out of a demon, but that is nothing compared to what he’s going to show me right now, how capable he really is in this field. His stomach is flat, and his torso lean. He is stronger than he looks. My eyes dart down to his pants, the garment offensive in all the ways.
‘’So I take that you are not a blushing virgin, then are you?’’ he asks out of the blue.
‘’Disappointed??’’ I dare back feeling a tiny bit insecure at his statement. Men do have their weird standards, not much can surprise me in regards of them. Yet I’m left pleasantly surprised upon the smirk that appears on his wine-red lips.
‘’You could never disappoint me Y/N-ah.’’ He replies getting serious once more and lowers himself down slowlyyy still teasing without actually doing anything which is getting torturous on its own. I just want to feel him, and his touches, feel his warmth ‘’Just no dying or leaving.’’ He lowers down finally making me keep in the intake of breath as he presses himself against my lower half where I can feel him properly the panties I got on not doing much to hide anything away ‘’Promise to stay with me.’’ he turns serious hands like I’ve mentioned capable of so many things, cup my face so gently as if I’m made out of glass ready to shatter even at a wrong breath ‘’Promise me that you will never leave me. That you will be mine forever.’’
‘’Forever is a long time.’’ I reply back getting serious too as he gets closer leaning his forehead against my own, thumbs caressing my cheeks.
‘’Not enough amor mea.’’ He whispers lips gently pressing against my forehead.
‘’A millennium?’’ I try which has him shaking his head, lips pressing a kiss between my eyebrows ‘’2 millenniums?’’ I go on with a smirk getting another kiss on my nose this time, and a curl of his lips as well eyes meeting my own so we simply can stare at one another.
‘’Forever.’’ He says simply and stares at me waiting for my answer.
‘’The whole eternity.’’
Instead of a reply, I watch lovestruck how his eyes seem to shine even brighter and a glow emits from him in this strange sense. The shadows settle into a melodic song that’s just all him. I can hear him in the song, they’re muttering playing, singing. And I’m just so enamoured, so entirely bewitched, and entranced with him I…I just…wow.
He leans in sealing the deal with a gentle press of his lips against my own, this kiss alone meaning so much more than all the kisses we exchanged up until now. It breathes life into me, makes my body enlighten, and my soul to sing in return along his melody. My eyes fall closed, sensations overwhelming me as he kisses down my neck, teeth nipping occasionally over my skin. He’s fulfilling his promise, leaving blooming marks in his wake.
So I just let him, even lift and bend my arms above my head to his liking as he maps my body with his tongue, which dips over my collarbone making my fingers wiggle for a moment and smile as I reopen my eyes again only to flush harder as just in the right time, he takes my left nipple in his mouth sucking gently, while his tongue flickers over it making me genuinely gaps in surprise how pleasant it feels.
His eyes seem to bore into me making my head spin. Letting go he licks at the hardened bud as I stare at him like an idiot, having grabbed and now am clinging onto the pillow above me, knuckles brushing against the wood of the headboard, meanwhile my panties are gradually becoming soaked. As his fingers move to play with my left nipple he moves with his mouth onto the right eagerly sucking at it, my body feeling as if someone set a bomb but just lit off the string that leads towards it.
‘’Y-Y-Yoon-ahhh!’’ I hiss as he lets go and starts blowing air gently, the sudden contrast shocking making me clench up. He smirks at my reaction leaning up to only brush his lips against my own.
‘’Tell me.’’ he whispers pressing another solid kiss onto my cheek ‘’What do you want?’’ he whispers directly into my ear, his left hand having found its way from my stomach, down to the panties skipping over the top of them, to dive down middle finger brushing over my lower lips. The grumble emitting from his chest has me blushing from embarrassment because I have a strong feeling that his finger is already wet ‘’C’mon jagiya don’t tell me you’re getting shy on me now?’’
I only huff in response as he leans backwards fingers now properly running up and down my clothed cunt, only briefly brushing over my clit but it’s not nearly enough for anything, except to make me stiffen up for a split second ‘’I’m not.’’ I mumble grinding my teeth together at the fleeting touches. He’s being mean.
‘’Alright then.’’ he chuckles sounding completely delighted ‘’Then tell me what you want.’’
I stare still entranced at the way his hand moves, fingers peeking over the tip of my cunt now and then as he moves it steadily, touch light and unchanging the torturous punishment which I don’t know how and what I did to deserve it dragging out. The slap is sudden making me jump and let out a yelp, the aftermath pleasant once it registers in my brain. I stare at him in disbelief whilst staring dumbfounded at his smile…proper devilish smile that has me fuming, his fingers reaching under the panties over my hips past the bandage. With a simple motion the panties rip, and the shadows actually swallow them leaving me bare. I gape like a fish as he lets go my left leg gently, because the shadows keep it propped up comfortably. He starts to crawl down, pressing fleeting kisses over my chest, my ribs, stomach as he lowers himself down my body.
‘’Fuck you smell good.’’ he curses, making me feel agitated in anticipation, as I feel his fingers spread my lips open ‘’My, my, my.’’ The smirk doesn’t help me to settle down, his eyes even less once I lift my own to meet his which are trained onto my own. I feel my eyes sharpen though which should be concerning but I can’t get bothered seeing him clearer than ever, as his tongue darts out trailing from my hole with fucking precision and all the way up over my clit trailing over the spots that have my fingers and toes curl instantly, body clenching and unclenching as he repeats the motion over and over, but by the 5th lick the jumpiness starts to subdue settling into a pleasant buzz that’s building up.
‘’Fuc-c-k-k-…Yoon-n-g-giii…’’ I manage to get out, chest deflating the shout getting cut off because of it as he lunges at the right moment lips attaching themselves around my clit. It has been throbbing and was left neglected for to long so now I’m almost hyper sensitive and aware of everything he does. But the intense suction is gone, brief enough to allow me to intake some air just enough so I can let out an almost ear-piercing scream, once his tongue starts flickering over it.
‘’FuAHHHHHH!!!’’ I grab at his hair once he gets rougher my hips starting to rock on they’re own. The shadows move and accommodate my leg, just as I feel something prod at my entrance ‘’Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes…’’ I chant feeling cold sweat trickling down from my forehead. His nose scrunches up but he continues moving his tongue as much as he can, but successfully does push one long finger into me without any restraint or resistance. I sigh in relief, when he moves away pulling his finger out but then quickly pushes it back in.
‘’So sweet, jagiya you are so delicious.’’ My jaw clenches the words having an affect on me but I need more and I need it now.
‘’P-Please just…please-e-e…’’ I plead giving him a proper look of desperation. The bastard that he is chuckles nudging another finger in besides the one, stretching me wider open without any burn of uncomfortableness.
‘’Whatever my princess wants.’’ At the nickname I raise my head again to stare at him, seeing the wink before he dives in changing between sucking onto my clit and licking around it teasing me. Thankfully he does give me mercy and at least thrusts his fingers in and out with an unrelenting rhythm.
The whines starts out of the blue, and chant on vocally forming his name, and other things meanwhile, the pleasure he is giving me is simply blinding making my body act on is own rather than me having much control over it. It’s why at one point he flattens his tongue and lets me grind myself against him with no complaint coming from how hard I’m gripping his hair, or how hard I’m moving my hips. I continue to chase my high, getting there rapidly because of the disarming stare. And at the change of his pace quickening up his fingers, he goes to curl them upwards and then with a loud moan that turns into a shout I’m clamping onto him, body tensing in the weird half raised position as the floodgate of absolute bliss gets released.
His hand’s help to lower me down, while my mind is completely overwhelmed and in another dimention is feels like. That state of euphoria washes over me, once I feel kisses getting pressed up over my face again. I automatically smile to his touches, his warmth welcomed as the explosion has now washed into tingles still rippling through me slowly dying down.
When I find the strength, I open my eyes to look up him feeling as if he’s a dream. I sure hope he’s not. His lips are turned up into a fond smile eyes having dulled down into faint silver, despite the shadows which are still very much so present darkening up the room but not enough so that I don’t see him. But I see so much more though…
‘’I love you.’’ I breathe out not even thinking. It feels right.
At first, I get a reward winning smile, the kiss gentle and firm ‘’I love you too.’’ He replies confidently, with a hint of relief. The kiss continues on as we have been deprived of too many kisses in the past specially the last days with the upcoming war and army ready to kill us off. There just wasn’t any time to sneak around for even pecks.
I get quickly aware of an issue, guilt gripping me as I get aware of my selfishness. Even if he’s not saying anything and is being considerate and all like he’s always been it irks me. So, while half focusing on the kiss I attempt to thrust my hips but end up only lulling us. It’s enough to get him to break away with a soft gasp, so I take the chance to let my tongue dart over his plushy lower lip. Grabbing onto his ass I use that to try and move my hips and grind into him from this awkward position as much as I can.
‘’Ah jagiya…’’ he breathes out as I continue moving my hips getting more reactions from him. I want to properly ride him want to show him how much I want and need him, but I think my wounds won’t let me go that far. And neither will he most likely so I settle on keeping quiet and moving as much as I can, starting to feel properly the outline of his dick, the rough fabric of his pants spreading my lower lips. And its so close I’m so close to being able to rub my clit against them but then he’s the one thrusting forward pinning my ass completely down to the bed a huff ghosting over my face. He still smells like mint and flowers ‘’Can you feel…how hard you make me…’’ he emphasizes his words with harsh thrusts that are forcing me to move upwards over the bed, hands shooting up to push myself away from bumping my head into the headboard.
I grin widely feeling pleased and proud of myself for having such an effect on him ‘’It fucking hurts...’’ he growls clearly frustrated ‘’…and its all because of you, only you…’’
I hiss when he nips at my neck harshly on the other side ‘’I’m gonna mark you up, because this is mine to colour into pretty purples and red marks.’’ He proves his point by biting harder making me cry out protest dying in my throat as he starts grinding and rubbing me the right way rendering me breathless again ‘’Mine.’’ He grumbles coming to a stop by thrusting harder than necessary but enough to have me look at him.
‘’You sure you want this?’’ he goes on going completely serious, everything besides his eyes and shadows going void of emotion. Because only I can hear and feel his shadows properly. I can hear what his soul is singing, because being the devil or not, prince of darkness and all that he does have a soul. Even if its tainted it matches my own broken one. His shadows sing what he really feels, from the debts of within him, song fulfilling going intertwined with mine.
I don’t have to answer his ridiculous question. I push myself up brining him into a demanding kiss, hands falling down to the top of his pants that I start pulling. And under my fingers they start to tare the sound filling up the room besides our kissing. He’s quick to help once I fall onto the bed again, wounds aching, his shadows squirming which are still dancing over my skin.
He makes quick work of tearing and pulling his pants off, as well as underwear to which I have to just stare and watch how his cock springs up bobbing against his stomach. Its rosy pink, the tip looking angry. There’s something already wet on it and for a second it makes me wonder if I ruined his pants with how wet I still am, but in the next moment it clicks that it’s precum, which gets confirmed as the pearly white substance leaks out. Before I can do anything else my vision gets obscured as he dives back in kissing and demanding my attention.
He’s smiling into the kiss which has me breaking into giggles for some reason even when I feel him brush against my folds. He doesn’t seem hurried.
‘’What’s so funny?’’ he asks moving his hips the tiniest bit leaning in to playfully bite my chin not pulling on it, soothing it with tiny kisses.
‘’Nothing.’’ I reply back ‘’You were the one smiling.’’ I point out.
‘’I was smiling because you make me happy.’’ He replies back without hesitation which causes me to look at him surprised the confession kind of out of the blue ‘’So insanely happy.’’ I gasp as I feel the head of his cock now prod at my entrance. I glance down as he leans closer head resting against my own. I stare as he holds onto his cock, sliding it up and down teasingly again spreading my wetness onto himself. My resolve is quick to break as I pant, once he prods again, so I let out a growl of my own. It doesn’t compare to his, but it gets his attention chuckles filling the room.
‘’You want me that bad??’’
‘’Mine!’’ I reply possessively seeing his unmarked skin, grabbing him around his torso and tug him downwards. He goes along huffing in surprise but doesn’t comment as I latch my lips onto his neck, biting hard into his shoulder. He hisses because of it so I let go to press kisses over the mark before continuing my way upwards leaving marks of my own behind ‘’As much as you think I’m yours, which I am…’’ the growl dies down quickly ‘’You’re also mine. And nobody can touch you, approach you, or dare to even look at anymore. You belong to me and me alone.’’ I grab gently under his chin brining his face closer, the tip of his cock sinking into me ‘’Body, and soul.’’ I feel something shift, a flood of emotions and memories fill up my mind. But I push those away, aware of my anaesthesia breaking, but it’s not important. He’s the only important thing right now.
His silvery eyes meet my own which have probably bleed into crimson red colour. I can feel my power as it is tingling on my fingertips his shadows are an indicator that they have awakened as they crowd closer around us, ghosting over his skin more noticeably.
With a growl he leans in forcing my head to lie back against the pillow. His body moves without words, as he sinks into me quickly meting no resistance. But the intrusion does make me gasp at the sensation, of being so full, and feeling like we are one. It ignites a fire within me that is instant to spread out of control almost.
I feel it on my fingertips, see how it appears right before my eyes, my hands settled over his shoulders. He spares it a glance, shadows shimmering in distress visibly for a moment until they settle into calmnmess his gaze landing onto me once more with a calculating look settling in his eyes for a moment.
‘’Mine.’’ He simply says and then pulls out, and thrust back. The fire I feel spreads down my forearms more ablaze than ever. Yoongi looks and remains completrly unphased starting up a slow but firm rhythm, pushing me upwards with each thrust that is getting harder but so pleasurable. Letting go of him I reach up to hold myself down, hands pressed flat against the wood.
The shadow that was wrapped around my wounded arm this whole-time trails back, leaving my hand alone as well as the pain that remains at bay. A particularly hard thrust has me moaning, twisting my head back, exposing my neck to him which he dives in eagerly, lips and teeth tracing all over. Glancing at my hands that are braced against the wooden headboard, my left one feels fine. It feels as it no damage was ever caused. Looking down again I raise my eyebrows ready to plead again for him to go faster. He stops moving completely but simply to readjusts himself into a sitting position onto his knees. He pulls my legs along settling them over his shoulders.
My hip doesn’t hurt anymore it’s why his shadow pulls way while the fire trickles down, over my chest. It is acting like a liquid without an actual blazing flame. The liquid does variate from blue to green colours. Its like molten lava but much more dangerous.
A high pitch moan leaves my throat as the angle shifts, and the way he’s thrusting now has me seeing sparks, going off in the air around us as I feel how his cock drags across my walls properly, giving me everything I need. I force my eyes to remain open with great difficulty as my fingers and toes are already curling again. His eyes seem to shine brighter, shadows swallowing almost every source of light in the room, besides the fire that’s burning on my skin.
I stare mesmerized at how sinful Yoongi looks. Bruised lips still coloured beautifully into a wine-red colour, marks stretching over his porcelain skin. He won’t be able to hide them, as I’ve managed to get one right under his ear. It fills me with a sense of pride and possessiveness knowing that everyone will know who he belongs to. He’s covered in sweat just like I am, from this “workout” but the way his skin glistens whenever he moves and the flames flicker…I wanna taste him all the more. He is breathing through parted lips, expression contorted into one of concentration, his hold on my legs to keep me still frim, not moving me an inch away from himself. And then his eyes. It’s as if I call him they flicker up to meet my own, another wave of arousal, or electricity and I don’t even fucking know I can’t describe what it exactly is washes over me violently, making me call out his name making me want to absolutely devour him whole. It’s not a predator and prey situation anymore. I’m on his level, we are completely equals if not the same. Shaking I let go of the pillows having torn them apart, to reach out for him. 3 thrusts after he’s shifting my legs spreading them further apart, but he places his hand over my stomach, the thrusts now shallow as he looks down eyebrows furrowed.
I follow his gaze to my chest; liquid fire having settled mostly in the wounds. The bandages surprisingly haven’t fallen off, until now as he reaches for them and tears them off revealing the scarred tissue behind. I’m surprised at how much I healed, lifting my left arm in front of my face I tug the bandage off, and watch as the fire is soothing the wound, closing it and regenerating the cells to heal up properly. But this isn’t my doing... not entirely. My hand falls away as I stare at him, while he leans closer again both arms landing just above my shoulders to keep me in place. He’s still burying himself deep inside me and leans in to steal away despite the whole situation sweet, honeyed kisses.
And as he bends down properly, he starts moving the kiss quickly getting broken as now he’s reaching deeper, not only rubbing my walls amazingly but just…he’s perfect…
‘’That’s it…’’ he breathes out tone gravely only furthering my arousal ‘’…moan for me amor mea, let me hear your beautiful voice, come on…’’ he encourages starting to piston properly fucking me without abandon, which does evoke many moans to leave my throat as I cling onto him, the fire still not hurting him, as he leans lower to get closer to me. He’s panting in my ear.
‘’Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongii…’’ I chant my voice getting louder and louder fingers digging into his shoulders. He’s going to hate me for this I’ve probably ruined his back for good. But he presses a kiss to my cheek brief as he’s still moving, and groaning along.
‘’That’s it…’’ he breathes out sounding pleased and gone definitely gone, which has me seeing white around the edges, my eyes falling shut ‘’Let everyone know who do you belong to.’’ He ends up growling biting onto the corner of my jaw making me whine, his thrust becoming brutal but I don’t need anything more. I’ve been on the edge since he leaned closer, clenching and unclenching.
I start shouting out his name, ending up panting wanting to breathe air in which isn’t there ‘’Mine!’’ he goes on sounding possessive ‘’Only mine! Say it!’’ a hand wraps around my throat suddenly cutting of the already non-existent air current into my lungs.
‘’Ah…yours…only yours…’’ I manage to get out eyes opening at a jerk, just to meet his silvery ones that for a moment look like crimson, but maybe that’s the reflection of my own.
‘’Good girl.’’ He breathes ‘’Now cum for me.’’ and with that and the calmness he’s radiating, he lets go of my neck and the flood gates have been opened. With the only remaining cell in my brain that does remain unchanged I get aware that the fire has gone out of control.
‘’Y/N-ah…’’ I pick up on a breathless moan through the haze knowing he’s perfectly alright and well, despite the fire that’s ragging on for the first time not inside me but all around me destroying everything in its path, eating it up fuelling itself. I can’t get myself to be even bothered by it, seeing as Yoongi isn’t.
I smile at the way he breathes, practically lying on top of me enjoying his own post orgasmic bliss. He’s not even heavy, and the way he’s lying down doesn’t put pressure anywhere that would make me feel even in the slightest uncomfortable. Getting back the feeling into my body, and hands I raise them up, eagerly letting my fingers web in between his silky only slightly damp locks. I stare up at the ceiling, the lights returning enough so I can see without straining my eyes. Shadows are cast across the ceiling making me smile, once they form into solid forms as if someone is putting on a puppet show for me. I can easily recognize Yoongi and myself, and a ridiculous story playing out which ends with me killing a cartoon looking dragon and then grabbing him and lifting him into my arms bridal style. I chuckle breaking the comfortable silence and glance away, at how the shadows have crawled up over his back, but are just now retreating his back once left unmarked despite my rough touches earlier. But besides the shadows that are let out to do as they please, because they are Yoongi’s extensions, my flame meanwhile starts dying down.
And not dying not literally because that means I’d be dead, but the spark has run its course, the pent-up emotions hidden in memories as well, got let out earlier and has now left peace and serenity in its place inside me. I summon up the fire to pull back and raise my right arm and away, holding the flame on my palm. Yoongi mumbles something under his breath but only moves his head and, leans lower dick spent falling from me, but that’s an issue for later to deal with. He rests his head conveniently above my breast, eyes fixated onto my hand.
Smiling I stare at the dancing pair modeled out of the fire, who start dancing tango. It is the dance of passion is it not? All the while the liquid still variating from lighter to darker blues and hints of green retracts into the flame. When it’s all gathered, and the fire dancers have burnt out the fuel they end the dance with a bow and kiss, disappearing into thin air, a brief puff of smoke raising into the air after them, the shadows seemingly swallowing them.
‘’...didn’t kno you could…do that.’’ The prince obviously tired now mumbles almost unintelligible. So, I turn my head down, to glance at his nose. He hasn’t moved still
‘’Well now you do.’’ I reply back sounding way more composed than he is. He lifts his head up tried eyes meeting my own, now having turned back to normal as he blinks slowly at me, looking completely sated and content from the way he’s still very much so boneless in my arms.
‘’There’s a lot of thing I don’t know.’ he grumbles lips forming a pout eyes looking up at me, with this sad look. And it fucking stops my heart from how fucking adorable he is! He reminds me of a kitty to be honest.
I offer a smile in return and lean down to press a kiss to his forehead ‘’We do have forever.’’ My words quickly bring a smile to his lips ‘’So there’s plenty of time for anything and everything that your heart wishes for.’’
‘’Anything and everything huh?’’ he repeats in a wonderous tone.
‘’Uh huh.’’ I hum in return sighing happily and overjoyed, to have him finally rest in my arms like this with no more secrecy, no more tricks, no more wondering and questioning his or my own actions, and finally knowing and remembering. Suddenly he lifts his head and stares at me, but then raises onto his elbows, left arm outstretched to the left, making me glance at it as he looks like he’s reaching for something ‘’What?’’ I ask gently smirking while he impatiently then snaps his fingers, the shadows in the room shifting as if a wave of water crashed into them. The lights do go out, leaving us in complete darkness for only a moment. But once it’s back I’m left staring confused at the joyous expression he has on, eyes practically sparkling. But what startles me and stops time is the thing he’s holding between his thumb and pointing finger between our faces.
It’s a silver band ‘’Be my queen.’’ Comes the statement and without even answering him he’s grabbing for my left hand, the shadows supporting him so he’s effortlessly keeping weight off me, while he preoccupies himself with sliding the ring onto my ring finger ‘’You said anything and everything. This is it. Be my queen, rule with me by my side till the end of time.’’
The small silver band fits perfectly. He lets go of my hand, while my eyes scan the piece of jewellery that holds suddenly the weight of the world over me. It’s a simple design, silver with waves drawn over around it, and small diamonds scattered in pattern around it.
‘’Maybe?’’
‘’Maybe!?!??!??!’’ pause ‘’What do you mean maybe?!’’
‘’Kidding! Yes.’’
‘’What?’’
‘’Yes. My answer is yes.’’
Copyright 2018© by barbika1508. All rights reserved.
#bts demon au#bts smut#BTS suga#demon au#bts#suga x reader#bts yoongi#yoongi x reader#min yoongi x reader#bts x reader#bts romance#bts angst#bts fanfic#bts royal au
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My thoughts on the Game of Thrones finale that no one asked for and pretty much a script of my perfect ending.
Honestly I’m so much happier after writing this and I can move on with my life now.
PLEASE NOTE: I’ve been watching GoT for like 4 months now and I know that probably most of the names below are misspelled as I know how they sound but not how they’re spelled exactly. Please forgive me. I’m literally too lazy to spell-check every word and name from the show. Please autocorrect them in your mind ;)
So my fear going into this episode was that Jon was going to die, or come very close. To some extent, yes I’m very pleased that he didn’t but the ending was still incredibly unsatisfying for his character. Why build up all the King of the North/True Heir to the Iron Throne/Prince that was Promised stuff only to have him go back to where he ‘came from’ and be a nobody at the wall? I saw someone say that he rejected it and became a Wildling with them. I dunno about that, I took that last scene as Jon helping to return the Wildlings to their land and help them resettle before returning to the Watch. Maybe, maybe not. Either way, incredibly unsatisfying with no real explanation of what that last scene meant for him.
Here’s what I really hoped would happen, in a perfect world where I wanted some tragedy but also a good ending for Jon:
Excluding what I would change in the rest of season 8, the one major thing I would change is that Jon kills the Night King. Obviousfreakingly. He wasn’t on a dragon the whole time, he was in the trenches with his men. Epic battle, some explanation for who the Night King was and what the motives were (and I love the headcanon that Bran was in fact the Night King but I’m going to ignore that for this), and a satisfying end to that really cool storyline. After that, Jon is even more loved by the people and hailed as the hero who saved Westeros. Dany continues being jealous of the love they have for him and trying to convince him to hide his identity. The rest happens as it happens because I don’t have the energy to change everything else, haha.
At the finale, after talking to Tyrion, Jon is terribly torn. He can’t reconcile what Dany did at all and he’s struggling to figure out his next step. He goes to the throne room and talks to Dany as he did but instead of giving the ‘You are my Queen’ thing with the kiss and what happened next, he says, “I can’t stand beside someone who would slaughter an entire city because of their ruler’s choices. Dany, I beg you. Offer mercy now and lead with kindness and justice, not fire and blood.”
Daenerys cooly steps back, hearing an unspoken ‘or I will be forced to take my rightful place’, and calls for her soldiers. Jon doesn’t fight, he knows he’s signed his death warrant by opposing her while his lineage makes him more of a threat now than ever, and he’s taken outside. The remaining terrified people left in the city are gathered, the Unsullied, Dothraki, and remaining Northmen stand nearby. Jon is brought to the same place that Ned was beheaded and forced to his knees. Dany assumes that Jon has enough Targaryen in him to be fireproof so Drogon isn’t called.
We see Arya in the distance. Her eyes widen in horror. She was waiting at the city gates for Jon but knew something was wrong when he didn’t come. She starts pushing through the crowd. Jon closes his eyes without seeing her, accepting his fate, just as Ned did.
Dany says that opposition will not be tolerated and orders Grey Worm to behead Jon. The Northmen begin to riot and the other two other armies clash with them. Dany looks over the crowd and doesn’t notice Arya coming up behind her. A blade, Needle, stabs through Dany’s chest, straight through her heart. She cries out and Jon’s eyes jerk open. He looks over and sees only Dany. Arya is already gone, but Needle is left. Jon focuses on it and his eyes widen even more. Dany falls to the ground and Grey Worm rushes over. Jon stays on his knees, taking in the chaos and the blood pooling. He’s in shock.
The soldiers are fighting each other, barely noticing their Queen’s fall. She stares at Grey Worm, in pain and terrified, until her eyes slip closed and she dies. Grey Worm wants someone to blame but Jon was clearly not at fault. Jon slowly stands and walks to Dany, settling beside her. This wasn’t how he wanted it to end. He had so hoped that she would change her mind, and he knows that Arya did it so he’s equally afraid that she will be caught. He looks around uselessly, knowing that he won’t see her anywhere.
Grey Worm removes the blade and lays his Queen down. He stands, lifting it high. He calls for justice, gaining the soldier’s attention finally and they see what’s happened. He demands to know who the blade belonged to and whoever finds the owner will be given a reward. Jon stays silent, staring at Daenarys. He stays there as Grey Worm and several of the soldiers leave in search of Dany’s killer. Jon lifts her the way he did with Ygritte and cries for her. In the distance, Drogon is heard screaming.
Some time has passed by the time we see Tyrion as he’s being released from jail by Jon. Tyrion asks if Jon was the one who killed Dany. When he finds out that Jon is innocent, he manages a smile. “I suppose nothing stands between you and the Iron Throne now.”
Jon isn’t pleased and he repeats, for the last time, “I don’t want it. I’ve seen what that thing does to people, how it corrupts them, how it makes people insane. I want no part of it.”
Tyrion is thoughtful. He completely understands Jon’s fear, after all the majority of people who have sat on the Throne in recent years were crazy, in one way or another. “The throne is not what changes people, Jon. It’s the lust for power that changes a person. And you have no such lusts. Even if you were a bastard and your father wasn’t a Targaryen , I can’t think of anyone who would be a better fit for power. You have had it and you have used it well. You have shown both mercy and justice. You’ve made hard decisions and you’ve seen the good and the bad that comes from them. You killed the Night King. The people love you—and not because of everything you’ve done but because of who you are: a good man. And isn’t it time that a good man sits on the Iron Throne?”
Jon sits, overwhelmed. “Would you want that kind of power?”
“Me? No. No, I fear it might go to my head, too. I am a Lannister after all and our lusts have always been our downfall.” Jon is silent so Tyrion sits next to him and quietly asks, “What do you want, Jon? You’ve said time and time again what you do not want, but what do you want?”
The young man’s eyes are filled with tears when he replies, “I want my father to be alive. I want Catelynn to be alive. I want Robb and Rickon to be alive. I want Sansa to have been protected. I want Arya to have stayed in Winterfell and never seen how awful the world outside is. And I want Bran to be... Bran.”
Tyrion smiles faintly. “Your greatest desire is for your family’s safety and protection. That is good. But what about you? Where do you want to go from here if not up those steps?” he asks, motioning to the throne room.
“Home.”
“Is that Winterfell?”
Jon nods.
“Then go.”
Jon glances at him, frowning. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight.”
Tyrion smiles. “Imagine for a moment that the Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms doesn’t rule from the Iron Throne. Imagine that he lives among his people and protects them, as a King should. Imagine if he ruled from the dining hall in his beloved home instead of a throne room painted with blood.” Jon is obviously doing just that. “You’ve already been the King in the North. You need only add a few more titles after that.”
Jon is silent for a long moment before a bell outside sounds. He stands suddenly. “I have to go.”
The former Hand of the Queen sighs. “Will you not even consider it? I thought I made some good points here.”
“No, it’s not that,” Jon says, inching toward the open door. “I have to go. I’ll find you later.”
Tyrion is a bit confused but he watches Jon leave. We follow Jon out of the destroyed Keep, through streets, passing people as they try to figure out how to start life over. Some people have bread for sale and a small marketplace is beginning to take shape. Jon is clearly in a hurry but he slows as he takes in the sight of people that he feels a deep longing to protect. He may not want power, but he wants to protect them. The thought stays with him as he continues and we follow him to to the beach. A small boat sits in the water with a man inside and a girl on the sand. Ser Davos waits in the boat, acknowledging Jon, and Arya smiles when she sees Jon approaching. They hug.
“You weren’t followed, right?” Jon asks, pulling away to look at her face.”
“No, no one knows we’re here, I’m sure of it. Do you have it?”
Jon smiles and removes Needle from under his cloak. He hands it to Arya and she grips the hilt tightly, possessively. “Thank you, Jon. I didn’t think I’d ever get it back.”
“You almost didn’t. Grey Worm had it under a close watch but when no one found the owner, I think he got tired of the reminder.” Jon’s smile fades. “What you did was foolish. You could have been caught.”
“But I wasn’t.”
“I know that, but you could have.”
“Jon, she was going to kill you. I couldn’t let that happen. Not again.”
He looks confused. “‘Not again’?”
“I couldn’t do anything when Father was killed. I just stood there and listened.”
Jon’s eyes widen. He didn’t know that she had seen it, or at least been close enough to hear it. He looks at the girl and sighs. She’s seen so much, and grown so much. “You know, I’ve wished for many years that things were different—as they were. But... I am so proud of you. And your sister. You both have become such strong women.”
Arya beams under his praise. “You may not be my brother by birth, but you will always be my big brother. And I’m proud of you, too.”
He smiles. “Thank you, Arya.” They hug again. “When will I see you again?”
Arya glances behind her to the boat. “I don’t know. I’m going West.”
“What is West of Westeros?”
“Exactly. I want to find out. And no one there probably even knows the name Daenerys so I’ll be safe.”
Jon’s eyes are sad. “Be safe. Please.”
She reaches as high as she can and Jon bends the rest of the way so she can kiss his cheek. “I will. And I will come back someday.”
“You’d better. I don’t know how I’ll be King with you to protect me.”
Arya’s expression blanks. “King? Are you going to take your place?”
He exhales. “I’m thinking about it.”
She smiles wide. “I can’t think of anyone better suited for it.” She turns and starts toward the boat before turning back. “You know, I don’t need someone to go with me. I can go alone.”
Jon’s sweet smile returns. “Oh I know. He’s there for my peace of mind. And he can tell me where you’ve gone when he returns so, perhaps, I can come visit.”
Our view pulls away, far away, as Arya nods, grins, and walks to the boat; gets in, and they head off while Jon watches.
Time moves forward once more as our view of a start-of-repairs Red Keep comes back into focus. Jon steps out in the same way Daenarys did at the start of the episode, but there is no great crowd awaiting him. He’s not there to make a speech, he’s ready to leave. Tyrion follows. “We will miss you here, you know. There are too many ghosts here for my liking.”
Jon looks over the city. “We all have our ghosts to live with.”
“Yes, some more than others.”
Jon looks down. “Thank you for all you’ve taught me, Tyrion. You’ve always been honest with me, even when others weren’t.”
Tyrion is obviously honoured. The two men hold each other in very high regard. “And you, Snow. Though I suppose I can’t call you that anymore.”
Jon smirks. “I like it better than Targaryen, actually.”
“Well, I certainly can’t call you the Bastard of Winterfell anymore.”
“No, and I can’t call you the Imp of Casterly Rock, either.”
Tyrion extends his hand. “Farewell then, King Jon of the Seven Kingdoms.”
Jon extends his own and they shake. “And you, Lord Tyrion of the Red Keep.”
“Actually, I like those better,” Tyrion replies with a smile.
Before Jon can reply, Drogon flies in and lands at the bottom of the stairs, bellowing in Jon’s direction. Jon looks from the dragon to Tyrion, a question in his eyes. Tyrion states, “I think your ride home has arrived.”
Jon looks unnerved. “I don’t know how to care for a dragon. And the North is no place for one.”
Tyrion gives the animal a sympathetic look. “I imagine he can take care of himself just fine, but... he’s lost everyone. You’re probably the only one he trusts now.”
With a sigh of resignation, because he still feels guilt over Dany’s death, he gives Tyrion a last nod of goodbye and descends the long staircase. At the bottom, Drogon squeals and lowers himself so Jon can step on. Still a little wary of riding a dragon, especially without Dany’s guidance or aid if necessary, he climbs on. Not knowing what to say, he simply commands, “Winterfell.”
Drogon stands, stretches his long wings out, and starts to fly. We watch the pair fly out of sight from Tyrion’s perspective. Tyrion smiles.
Winterfell comes into view after a long flight and Drogon descends, carefully landing nearby. Jon, clearly not at ease after the flight, stumbles a bit as he gets off. Turning back to face the gorgeous beast, he removes his glove and gently pets Drogon’s face. The dragon’s eyes close and sounds of contentment come from deep within. “I’m sorry about your mother,” Jon says quietly. “She was a good woman and I loved her.” He pauses, not sure what to say next. In a sense, he feels like he’s just as much apologizing to Dany herself as the dragon’s eyes focus on him. “Go. Go wherever you want and do whatever you want. But, please... don’t kill anyone. Those days are over now.”
He has no idea if the dragon understands or not but somehow, he feels like it does. Drogon stands back, makes one last noise at Jon, and then flies away. Jon watches, his cloak billowing in the wind. He turns to the gates of Winterfell and, for the first time in so long, exhales a breath it seems like he’d been holding for years. He is home.
The gates open and Sansa, Bran, Sam, Tormund, and Ghost await inside. Ghost bolts as soon as he catches sight of Jon and nearly knocks his owner over. Jon laughs, balancing himself and giving the wolf a proper rub. “I missed you, too, boy. It’s good to see you.”
He enters the city and hugs Sansa tightly, shakes Bran’s hand, hugs Sam, and stops at Tormund. “What are you doing here? Did you get too cold in the ‘Real North’?”
The bearded man laughs. “We came as soon as I got the letter from Sam. Your dog wasn’t eating much and I knew he needed his real owner. Besides, I wanted to see if you looked any different now that you’re a real King.”
Jon laughs. “And? Do I?”
"Besides the belly you have from eating like a King, no.” Tormund laughs uproariously as he strikes Jon’s abdomen before pulling him into a hug.
When they separate, Sansa, smiling, steps forward. “Can I still call you Jon?”
Jon rolls his eyes. “Yes. If I can still call you sister.”
She hugs him once more. “I will always be your sister.”
Bran clears his throat, gaining everyone’s attention. “Jon, you have work to do now. The Seven Kingdoms need you.”
Jon sighs. This isn’t what he wanted, but he knows that it’s his duty. And there was nowhere else he’d rather be, and no one he would rather be surrounded by than his family and friends.
“Do we have time to celebrate his homecoming first?” Sam asks.
Bran gives a faint smile. “So long as there are no more stories about giant’s milk.”
Jon frowns and turns to Tormund. The man’s lips are pursed out, his brow furrowed. “How did you know about that?”
“I know everything,” Bran replies.
Tormund’s confusion seems to grow. “Do you also know about the time that I killed a bear with my own hands?”
Bran nods without emotion. “Yes.”
“Can I tell that story?”
“Yes.”
Tormund throws one arm around Jon’s shoulder as they all walk into the main hall, Sam pushing Bran’s wheelchair as he and Tormund continue going through a list of Tormund’s appropriate stories. The people of Winterfell are pleased to see Jon and smile and greet him as he passes.
Their true King had returned.
THE END
#Game of Thrones#GOT#Jon Snow#Kit Harington#Daenerys Targaryen#Mine#Sorry guys I know this is totally off SPN buuuut I have feelings and I needed to get them out#So I rewrote the episode#Now I feel so much better truly I do#My heart is happy
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* A DISCUSSION : GENDRY’S ALLEGIANCE TO THE KING OF THE NORTH.
content: mostly just a whole thought process, call it a review if you must, of gendry in season seven. mentions of his dislike towards highborn including his father and the baratheons, but mostly the reasoning behind his motivation in spite of that to serve and follow jon snow’s lead according to my interpretation. fair warning that even though i’ll be making references towards the book!gendry, i have not read it, and my portrayal leans more to his appearance in the series.
warning: none so far. maybe a huge bias towards highborns in general?
i. gendry doesn’t like highborns
and probably never will.
i’m not gonna lie: i’m a little miffed that gendry is portrayed to immediately taken a liking to his father’s house’s name. to be honest, his general dislike and eye-rolling at highborns ( as portrayed both in the books and hinted in the tv series ) - no matter how much he has to, and has, in the end, bowed his head to them in order to “show respect” - was what made it entirely too funny, and very interesting, to me considering his parent’s origin. but, as much as it’s ironic for gendry to spit at the highborns unknowingly having the blood of his father in his veins, he has his reasons. and they’re good reasons, too.
and, despite his great friendship and high praise of arya ( and he does, but i won’t focus on this for now ), you can obviously see this during his small speech after he declines arya’s invitation to go back to winterfell. “i’ve served men my entire life,” he’d said, “i served master mott at king’s landing and he sold me to the watch. i served lord tywin at harenhaal wondering every day if i’d get tortured or killed. i’m done serving.” when arya further argued with him and started to walk away, he said my next favourite line - and one i’ll bring back further into this discussion because it’s a good line that, while not much, tells a lot about gendry: “i’ve never had a family.”
arya turned, tears in her eyes, and uttered the one most heartbreaking thing i’ve ever heard, “i can be your family.” gendry smiled at this, but it’s sad. it’s just as equally heartbreaking when he muttered back, “you wouldn’t be my family. you’d be m’lady.” so gendry is aware, painfully so, that he’s not an equal. on the journey, under the disguse of arya being “arry”, it’s easy to forget — even when he teases — that arya was a highborn. he’d seen and known her first as a girl-pretending-to-be-a-boy: scrappy, impulsive, with dirt on her face, so gendry is terrified. what appeals so much for him in the brotherhood was that, finally, he didn’t have to serve anybody; he had a chance to be an equal just as much as the next man standing besides him. of not being looked down upon just because of a social status he couldn’t help.
again, i won’t dwell on the significance of arya ( though a lot of his motivation in the end do merge with his fealty upon the girl he’s lost and assumes had died ) because the point was: gendry is troubled of his lowborn status. he hates it. he doesn’t blame his mom or himself for it, because he knows nobody asks to become who they are when they’re born, but he hates the constraint and the suffocation behind the title, or - should i say - the lack of one. he’s been treated badly because of it: most likely suffering from harsh treatments, mocked, and had to face the toll of being poor all the while, as he grows up. later, he was sold off and traded like he’s nothing, like he’s a slave, then he’s prodded and jailed to be a sacrificial lamb. and all because he has no power to fight back: no lands nor no titles to make it stop.
he’s also seen and met some of the highborn lords. he even saw his father when he was a child according to the book. none of them impressed him. and none of them, i think, ever fully will. i won’t go in full details, but even knowing afterwards that he’s a bastard of the last king, he probably isn’t fond of the baratheons. which is funny and endearing all at the same time, since he inherits a lot of their famous traits ( being stubborn and hot-headed, known famously for their strength and raw power ), but think about it: he called the king an old, fat sod even before knowing the king was his father ( suggesting he’s unbiased when he expresses this thought ) , and he would’ve known about how two of the baratheons left are fighting each other for the throne in the war of the five kings. he probably thought his uncles were stupid. later, he met stannis, who nearly damned murdered him to further his cause - yeah, didn’t help with the whole “loving my house” thing.
which was i was originally miffed. sure, those were harsh years on his own after he escaped stannis’ clutches, but what could possibly massively change for him that he’s suddenly so proud to not only quickly announce that he’s robert baratheon’s son upon meeting jon snow, but to also bear his house’s sigil on his warhammer? his house has done nothing for him, and associating himself so easily with high lords have never lead to good things before. gendry is also a prideful creature. even in the series, he’s stubbornly shown that he doesn’t forget the faults people have done towards him e.g. the lannisters’ massacre of robert’s bastards, the brotherhood selling him off, the red woman violating and wanting to kill him; just as much as he doesn’t forget people’s kindness e.g. ser davos saving him twice. so why is he suddenly so easy going, you know ? on the other hand though, it’s also not completely out-of-character. and here’s why:
ii. gendry’s willingness to serve jon;
his need for family, a place to belong,
and a true cause to fight.
to wrap things quickly: gendry is and always will be guilty for leaving arya behind. of course, in the tv series, he was taken. but the night before, that night in the cave, he announces his departure — he rejects arya’s offer to serve her brother and essentially tells her that he won’t follow her anymore. he doesn’t need a reminder that they can’t be friends on equal footing, so he’s putting a stop to it. then, the red woman took him - violated him - and puts him in a prison so he can await his slaughter. when he escaped and returned to king’s landing, or - as i’ve interpreted, whatever land he found before he marches himself back to king’s landing on foot - he’d heard about the red wedding. and, if that didn’t convince him, he’d probably thought years of never hearing news of arya means she’s dead.
she’s dead, and it’s all because he wasn’t there to be with her, to protect her like she had him; like they’ve been doing the entire time they were on the lam. i can be your family, arya said, and it’s only months - years - later that he realises they already were. but he’d done her wrong, and now she won’t come back. this also didn’t help because arya, in theory, isn’t the first stark he rejects. maybe it wasn’t an offer before, but ned stark came and told master mott that he’ll take gendry if gendry ever decides smithing wasn’t for him ( his exact words: “if he’d rather wield a sword than forge one, you send him to me.” ) and gendry heard it. he doesn’t think too much about it - he doesn’t want to - but that was the first stark he pushed away. eventually, i can see, his hatred for the lannister, and the thing he’s seen they’ve done, and the things he couldn’t stop because he was too damn young and immature and afraid, probably fuels his hunger to the eagerness we see in season seven.
gendry isn’t much for patience, but he waits. and he waits stubbornly, faces all of the soldiers that come by the shop and forges and mend their armoury and weapons for them, all the while building his own strength and resolution. if there’s an opportunity to fight again, he probably thought, to fight against the lannister and to bring them down, he’s going to take it. and he even crafts a warhammer with a sigil of a house that’s done nothing for him, probably out of spite at any lannister soldiers that come in to stare at his weapon, to prove it.
speaking of houses, i honestly don’t think gendry is that much proud of it. but - for the first few times in his life, taking the name baratheon gives him a sense of belonging. it’s a house without members anymore, sure; his birth father was gone, the other bastards in king’s landing are likely murdered, his uncles were killed and the successor under them followed, but ... it’s his. in a way. he’s rejected arya’s offer for a family before, and it got her killed. i don’t think gendry is ready to reject a second offer to belong in a family even if he’s grasping at ghosts, even if the term bastard is spitting right back into his face. that’s okay, though: gendry doesn’t and never asks for titles or lands or lordship the whole time he’s on screen. when davos came back, all he’d wanted was to fight.
and then he was taken to jon snow. jon snow, arya’s favourite brother. and immediately he introduces himself even if davos instructed him otherwise just minutes before. again, the baratheon stubbornness, huh? but gendry is desperate at this point. he wanted a reason for jon to see him seriously, so he told him about a father who never knew he was alive; he suddenly look like he’s proud of it, the bastard of king robert. and he followed it up with tales of their fathers to convince jon some more. jon accepts him with a smile when they banter, and gendry is looking jon straight in the eyes. a city boy who has never seen snow or even knew how to ride a horse or rowed a boat, but finally, finally, he’s offering his services. finally, he follows a stark.
maybe this time, he thinks, a stark doesn’t have to die.
and jon didn’t. it comes in full circle when gendry uttered the next favourite line i’ve ever heard him say, “ i’m not leaving you ” at jon when jon ordered him to go back. for me, it’s so - personal. he’s looking straight at jon, he’s shaking his head, and he doesn’t address jon by a royal title or showing any indication that jon was above him. this, out there, jon is equal to him somehow, and his resilient retort, how he was the one who raced to jon when jon was staring at the vast snow in panic, was as though he’d known jon his whole life and he refused to leave jon out here to fight soldiers that can overwhelm the group. he wanted to stay at jon’s side, because the last time he deserted a stark, he lost her. and he really doesn’t want to lose another.
but he gave in ( lmao he always gave in when it comes to starks lbr ) and he ran till he collapsed to make sure he did what jon told him to do. to make sure he didn’t have to lose the king of the north. and this is how it came full circle: gendry wanted to belong, so he took up the legacy that his dad never really gave him. he wore the baratheon sigil, in any way he could, so he can feel like he’s got a family somehow. dead ones, sure; but the same can be said of his allegiance to snow. he is loyal to arya. but as far as he knows, arya is gone. arya, like the baratheons, are ghosts. however, just because they’re not there anymore, it doesn’t mean he can’t continue to hold on to whatever’s left of the house and the girl he knew.
gendry lived his whole life drifting from one place to another, waiting for a place to open up so he doesn’t have to starve or feel less like a scum than he was before, waiting for a chance that can bring him the closest to comfort; in season seven, it proved that he sought out and carved a place for himself despite the world shoving him constantly to the ground. he took the baratheon name even if society norms forbade him and he insisted for the suicide mission jon’s constructing even if it meant it could kill him. he’s done waiting. he’s taking actions now, and it shows.
iii. conclusion and interpretation.
tl;dr gendry isn’t proud of the baratheon name, he doesn’t like highborns, and he definitely isn’t interested in serving anybody any longer than he has to. but he’ll announce he’s the bastard of king robert loudly, he’ll pledge his fealty to the north if that’s where the starks are, and he will forge a thousand of weapons daily for jon if he has to because gendry is a stubborn bull who is extremely tired of his past mistakes. he wants to feel like he’s belonged somewhere now, that he has a bigger purpose than just making swords for the house that wanted to kill him, and he’s done his part waiting. so gendry’s demanding a place now, in any part of the larger scheme. and i’ll play him as such.
please don’t reblog.
#long post for ts#unformatted#i should be doing my work but ..... eh whatever#ALSO THIS IS SO.... fucking long jesus#listen i have: Thoughts okay#and i needed them WRITTEN OUT#and i uhhh love g.endry's constant battle#to find a place in the world#and it isn't until i was writing this#that i realise he's finally done searching#he's MAKING a place of his own#and nobody will stop him#he's lost his best friend ok#he thOUGHT HE LOST A.RYA#he is: Sad#gendry.#gendry; headcanon.#gendry; meta.
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I am yours and you are mine
OK. So. The episode of Game of Thrones that follows the fabulous weird intimate-as-fuck emo melodrama of “Blackwater” is “Valar Morghulis.” And in this episode, which follows the epic SanSan intimacy of “I’ll keep you safe. Do you want to go home? etc etc” there are not one, not two, but three couples basically making commitments and pledging to each other.
I THINK THE SHOW IS TELLING US SOMETHING ABOUT SANSAN AND MARRIAGE GENERALLY THROUGH THESE COUPLES ALL OF WHOM ARE DOOOOOOOOOMED in different ways. (Five of the six people involved have since been murdered.)
I’ll circle back to the couples in a minute, but first I must quote problematic Cat Stark from this ep, because I think if there is a message here, rather than some broken models of what not to do, she’s the one delivering it.
Cat to Robb about his feelings for Talisa and their agreement with the Freys:
“Your father didn’t love me when we married. He hardly knew me. Or I him. Love didn’t just happen to us. We built it slowly. Stone by stone, over the years. For you, your brothers and sisters, for all of us. It’s not as exciting as secret passion in the woods, but it is stronger. It lasts longer... You agreed to it. Treat your oaths recklessly and your people will do the same. If your father lived his life for one thing...”
(1) I gotta appreciate the “over the years” in this because god knows that SanSan has been years in the making.
They’ve been completely apart for many of those years, but dear god the personal growth! She’s a wolf now; he’s no longer an emotionally crippled thug with a serious drinking problem.
If they are cosmically linked soulmates who have been bound by some inexplicable tie for a long time, they have used the intervening years relatively well. Sansa learned how to survive and make her own justice, and Sandor built a very strong relationship with the only other surviving true-born Stark (by my account Bran is dead) and went to rehab and therapy, etc.
Mistakes were made, to be sure, but they are both better, healthier and stronger people after the fact.
Source: http://devilsbastion.tumblr.com/image/168855312743
(2) “It’s not as exciting as secret passion in the woods, but it is stronger. It lasts longer.”
This line makes me feel like the writers have read all the Blackwater AUs where Sansa and Sandor run off together and despite best-laid plans end up fucking inside a month. In fanfic they usually end up happily ever after (usually), but in George’s world, Sansa probably ends up married to a Frey, Sandor ends up dying at the hand of god knows who, and without the Hound, Arya ends up raped and dead in a ditch and certainly not the killer she is today.
(Of course, Robb and Talisa do go the forbidden love route and we all know how that turns out.)
(3) “You agreed to it. Treat your oaths recklessly and your people will do the same. If your father lived his life for one thing...”
I will say this: Sansa tried valiantly to keep her promises and the promises her family made. She agreed to marry Joffrey, arranged thought it was, and she keeps to that agreement.
In the same episode, Theon is whining: “Yes my captors were so very kind to me...Do you know what it’s like to be told how lucky you are to be someone’s prisoner?” but at this point in the story, Sansa is being held prisoner by awful people and being beaten and stripped and threatened with rape at every turn. So Theon can just shut up.
And in re Robb, Sansa was bound to marry a much worse prospective spouse than a Frey girl, and yet she stuck with it, even if out of sheer cluelessness. She was offered a “get out of jail free” card by Sandor Clegane, and she refused it.
As horrible as it is, and as patriarchal and un-woke, Westeros custom says that Sansa was Joffrey’s—to torment or treat any way he saw fit. And, for better or worse, Sansa and Sandor have both internalized the patriarchy in a way that Arya never does.
In season four, Arya asks the Hound, “Didn’t you steal anything from Joffrey before you left?” He says no, he’s not a thief, and then says “a man’s got to have a code.”
Arya’s talking about gold or other treasure but in the same conversation he calls Arya “the only thing of value I’ve got in the world,” which tells us as clear as day what really matters to him—even though he wants us and Arya to believe the issue is her exchange value in gold.
Sansa is the only thing Sandor wanted to steal, but she belonged to the king and if she didn’t want to go of her own volition—if she didn’t think she needed to be rescued—he wasn’t going to abduct her.
He probably should have, for her sake, but I suspect he was too hurt when she turned him down to face her fighting him and being disappointed and teary. Sansa’s recrimination and distress was not something he was equipped to cope with at that point. Now Arya he could manhandle, but Sansa, for reasons (SEX REASONS PEOPLE), he could not, would not and did not.
ANYWAY MARRIAGE
He cloaked her in the throne room. She accepted the cloak.
Did it mean something to them? Did it mean something to the gods?
We have no idea. It has never been addressed.
But...the line in the Westerosi marriage vows is “You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection.” And within weeks he’s saving her from being gang raped (and he’s secretly pretty fucking pleased with himself), and he risks beheading (or much much worse) by attempting to smuggle away Tywin’s prize hostage and get her through the entire war-torn country to Winterfell.
If that’s not protection, I don’t know what is.
Tyrion’s speech at the Blackwater (after the Hound has already deserted) about defending Your City rings false for the Hound because he literally cares only about one thing in the whole place (maybe two if you count Stranger). Hound figures why not take the girl out of the city rather than trying to save the whole shit city to protect her?
But it doesn’t work, and Sansa and Sandor break up.
Next episode. Sandor does not appear. Sansa does. And three separate couples—all doomed in different ways—make promises.
MARRIAGE PLEDGE #1: JOFFREY BARATHEON TO MARGERY TYRELL
Joffrey: “It would be an honor to return your love. But I am promised to another. A king must keep his word...I took a holy vow.”
Pycelle: “The gods do indeed hold betrothal solemn.”
Joff: “The gods are good. I am free to heed my heart...you will be my queen, and I will love you from this day until my last day.”
OK so mostly this is foreshadowing for Robb getting whacked and Joffrey getting poisoned at his wedding. But it’s also amazing extra-level bullshit. Every single person in the scene is lying through his or her teeth and putting on a show for the court, except for Sansa who is genuinely delighted to be relieved of Joffrey.
Well, the situation also thrills Littlefinger who pounces on her literally moments after Joff sets her aside. If the Hound had waited maybe one more day he and Sansa would have been so much freer to figure themselves out together--but then it wouldn’t be a heartbreaking romantic separation would it?
But there are a couple of lines I want to highlight as possibly important for SanSan.
“The gods do indeed hold betrothal solemn.”
What if this is true on some level and the gods have considered SanSan to be pledged to one another in some spiritual way? Could the gods actually have been intervening in their favor in some way? Probably not but...maybe.
“I am free to heed my heart.”
So so so few people in Westeros are free to heed their hearts. That’s why the freefolk call themselves that—they aren’t bound by the feudal system and the arranged marriages and the taxes and high-maintenance castles and all that.
But come season eight, guess who is free as hell to heed her heart? Sansa Stark. She’s even finally rid of Littlefinger. Nobody except maybe Jon Snow can tell her what to do, and I feel strongly that he DGAF who she marries so long as he’s a good man.
MARRIAGE PLEDGE #2: SHAE DA FUNNY HOAR TO TYRION LANNISTER
Tyrion: “I’m a monster, as well as a dwarf. You should charge me double.”
Shae: “You think I’m here for money?”
Tyrion: “That was the arrangement we made. I pay you and you lie to me.”
Shae: “You have a shit memory. I am yours and you are mine.”
I don’t understand these two. I think Tyrion did love her, but “I pay you and you lie to me” was the truth of it. Their relationship was built on a shaky foundation of business and lies.
In the end she testified at his trial for capital crimes and he strangled her to death. So...as the Hound said to Tyrion in the series premiere, “It’s not hunting if you pay for it.”
You can buy a wife with an army or gold, or you can buy the girlfriend experience from a prostitute, but you can’t buy a healthy, happy and loving marriage, not for any price.
I am a crazy person, admittedly, but I think George’s endgame is two well-deserved happy marriages: Jon & Dany, and Sansa & Sandor. (I wouldn’t mind Brienne & Jaime, Missandei & Grey Worm, and Sam & Gilly also living happily ever after but WE WILL SEE.)
MARRIAGE PLEDGE #3: ROBB STARK AND TALISA MAEGYR
Secret love in the woods!
The theme to this scene is “I Am Yours and You Are Mine,” a lushly romantic love theme by Ramin Djawdi. These are good people, and they are madly in love, and they are doomed as fuck.
As a wise man once said, “What is honor compared to a woman's love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms...or the memory of a brother’s smile?”
I wish I could tell you that the series is consistent about punishing oathbreakers, but I can’t. The best I can offer is that the story does seem to treat marriage (and the children of marriage, i.e. trueborns versus bastards) as a special and very important kind of oath.
The camera focuses on Lady Oleanna Tyrell at Joffrey and Marge’s wedding just as the High Septon says, “...one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.” And of course, House Tyrell is eventually exterminated.
George, if not the gods, does seem to value fidelity in marriage and not running around “stabbing” girls you don’t plan to marry. Ned Stark is a saint who never cheated. Cersei and Bobby are both unfaithful, but Cersei went a step further and aborted all of her trueborns and cuckholded Bobby with Jaime’s bastards. Stannis is a cheater. Renly is a cheater--he’s married to Marge but sexes up Loras. Rhaegar was a bigamist maybe--timeline unclear but undoubtably problematic. Ramsay Snow was fucking Myranda while married to Sansa. Theon is a jackass for whoring and banging captain’s daughters whereas Jon Snow doesn’t want to make bastards on Ros. Daario wants to come to Westeros as Dany’s fuckboi even if she’s going to marry someone else but Dany is all “hard pass” because Dany ain’t like that. Brandon Stark (Ned’s murdered brother) was a bit of a fuckboi. Littlefinger gets married and murders his wife within the space of a...day? No bueno!
Tyrion gives Shae a heartbreaking speech when he’s breaking up with her for her own safety about “you are not fit to bear my children, and Sansa is.” Bastards! So much talk about legitimacy or not and what that equips you for, or not, in Westeros. Blah blah thousand-year dynasty.
These are not always our contemporary morals, at least in popular media, but they do seem pretty solidly founded in Westeros:
Marriage matters. Fidelity matters.
I do think it is important that we never ever see Sandor interact with other women on the show besides Sansa and Arya (and the farmer’s daughter Sally).
Not Cersei. Not Myrcella. Not Melisandre. Not whores. He isn’t even shown talking to Dany after she saves him on Drogon. Sansa is his woman. Period.
Sansa takes marriage very seriously, but she is never in a position to choose her husband or control the circumstances of her marriage. Marriage to Sansa is suggested or arranged, canonically, to Joffrey Baratheon, Tyrion Lannister, Littlefinger, Robin Arryn and Ramsay Snow, and that’s not even including all the fan-made pairings like Sansa-Marge, Sansa-Tywin, Sansa-Stannis, Sansa-Edd, Sansa-Jon, Sansa-Pod, Sansa-Bronn, etc.
Tyrion is by far the best of the lot of Sansa’s canonical consorts, a list that includes two psychopaths, one sociopath and one disabled child.
By Ned Stark’s standard of “brave, gentle and strong,” again, Tyrion might qualify as brave and gentle, but the other four fail to have even one of those qualities. Ugh. Sandor is all three, to my mind, although the show de-emphasizes “gentle” in favor of sassy, but we all know that he’s a very different kind of brute from Joffrey or Ramsay.
Three more tidbits and then shutting up.
** The episode ends with Dany’s vision in the House of the Undying. Drogo says: “Or maybe it is a dream. My dream, your dream. I do not know. These are questions for wise men with skinny arms. You are the moon of my life and if this is a dream, I will kill the man who tries to wake me.”
If Sansa’s dreams are as important as I think they will turn out to be, this line may feel more evocative of SanSan in the future. I mean, LOL, “These are questions for wise men with skinny arms” is a total Sandor POV thing to say, although Sandor does have a rough-hewn wisdom of his own.
** The next episode is the season three premiere, “Valar Dohaeris (All Men Must Serve)” and in that we get:
Littlefinger telling Sansa that “stealing you is treason”
Sansa telling Shae that it’s better to use your imagination and dream than think about the truth, because “the truth is always terrible or boring.”
Ros telling Shae that Sansa is a very important person and reminding us of her connection to Winterfell
And Marge telling little kids that knights “protect the weak and uphold the good”
** And then finally, in the second episode of season three, Sandor reappears and it’s clear that he’s been drunk non-stop since he left Sansa behind. He gets captured while unconscious and when he comes to, the first thing he sees is Arya (he recognizes her instantly) and the first words of out his mouth are “What in seven hells are you doing with the Stark bitch?” It’s clear to me that he determines on the spot to watch over her. He has not been granted the status of protector of Sansa, but Arya is fair game.
Was it divine justice or the hand of the gods, putting Sandor together with his wife’s little sister who needs to be protected? We shall see. We shall see.
“In winter, we must protect ourselves.”
“When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.”
“I miss him.”
“Me too.”
#Sandor Clegane#Sansa Stark#arya stark#sansan#sansan meta#game of thrones#sansa stark x sandor clegane#sansa x sandor#sansan marriage#brave gentle and strong#promised prince
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