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ladysirenity23 · 2 years

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Cult!Genshin x reader

Sagau pt.2 Mondstadt

Warnings: cult behavior, obsessive thoughts, religion, spoilers

[Sagau pt.1 Khaenri'ah here] 👇

Diluc

When the red head was just but a young lad he would see a small statue by his dad's office

A perfect and divinely being, Crepus would say while kneeling on the ground hands clasped saying quiet prayers at the image of 'The Creator'

Diluc was man who spoke few--to no words ever since his father's passing,and after that he didn't want anything to do with you

When the time came that you finally took control of him,many times Diluc purposely would try to deny your presence,whispering light insults towards you.Since.. at all times where we're you when he needed you, why had you only shown yourself after everything had already been alright?!

Days turned into weeks, and his faith wavered and surely as the years passed by

it disappeared

Diluc would mentally laugh feeling a playful glare sent towards him after him 'accidently' aimed his claymore in another direction when you were supposed to be aiming at a hillichurl

( you might think Kaeya or Venti would do this instead--yes they would playfully tease you , but I like to think Diluc's reason of doing this is pissing you off out of spite)

Though.. Did his faith really vanish?no. much to his dismay, he was still a worshipper, an acolyte, a devotee, and a vessel

He would be found acknowledging his adoptive brother's ramblings about you..every evening after the door's of Angelshare closes,he would stay and Diluc would ask himself why were you the only subject that seems to make him and Kaeya bond again?

He huffed, he's not one for pride,Diluc usually puts others before himself, but he can't admit he still had just a bit devotion for you! Not after your lack of actions

On his way to the chilly breeze of Dragonspine, he went up to the mountains eyes tired and ready to rest from the snow that pricked his pale skin

He unknowingly admitted in his mind... That he did miss your presence, where you would lead him back to his home and sit him down at the dining table to enjoy the meal that his servants prepared for him

Why was he here again?Of course his thoughts were jumbled, he was in Dragonspine at the brink of death!, the young Ravingdr sighed, his warm breath becoming visible in the cold winter breeze

His legs walks on its own, going towards his supposed destination

Looking up--Albedo's lab was in sight, he squinted suddenly feeling his heart beating fast though he could not decipher what was the cause of his heart racing for his vision was being covered by the never ending blizzard

No it can't be, his movements were halted as tears stream down his cheeks, eyes gleaming at your figure with a newfound hope

He again felt your presence

Years of loathing that was once rooted down to his core seemed to disappear with just your mere stare

(e/c) eyes widened looking at a familiar red haired man kneeling down in between the unforgiving snow storm, smiling at your figure

You loudly gasp and shake your companion's shoulders hoping they'll at least be able to understand that you were motioning to save him

Diluc's crimson eyes softened at your pleads, his smile ever so slightly curves up..maybe you weren't such a horrible god after all.

Atlast the uncrowned king of Mondstadt was finally home in your merciful gaze

Lisa

A humble librarian, or so Lisa would like to think she is--We all know before Lisa came back to Mondstadt, she was a scholar from the nation that hailed knowledge and wisdom

she was quite knowledgeable about your origins that were written in the scrolls of the Akedemiya-so with that, she would always loved to flaunt her never-ending knowledge about you

Although the knowledge came to a price when handling a certain book making her lifespan shortened

Maybe,.. It was meant to be?Lisa would try and convince herself making her less guilty for her carelessness

Usually she'd love it when just inside the comfort of her library sorting out the books in its author arrangement,

becoming an adventurer and battling slimes to hillichurls all over Teyvat, is the last thing she'd ever want to do

But maybe for you, she wouldn't mind going out of her comfort zone for a couple of days!

After hearing the news of you having your own body, made her happy! she never believed her ears and eyes, if not for the divinely presence you held when inside the headquarters

Now with you by her side she would be able to show and read to you her favourite stories and encyclopedias!

Jean

The paperworks left by the grandmaster himself weren't kind to her

While you didn't use her as a vessel she'd stay coped up in her office doing whatever she needed to finish while Jean prays to you as a form of comfort for the incoming mountains of paperwork and missions

The acting grand master also prays for the patience, she out of all people wouldn't want to rush anything even if it means sacrificing her own sanity

After each prayer she'd sigh, expecting a Knight that will come bursting the doors of the office

As she predicted--someone did go inside her office

Jean didn't really want to hear anything the knight had to report today..so she closed her eyes nodding pretending to listen

But listened when-our Creator ___-"

The knight didn't need to say another word before the grandmaster had left her poor subordinate with a hanging mouth and an unfinished sentence

Just by hearing your name was enough to make the woman from the Gunnhilder clan dash towards the exit

All of her stress disappeared as she caught the warm color of your gaze staring back at her

Rosaria

She heard of you, but didn't bother to learn more about you.You were just another deity that was hailed and praised ,and as she would everytime there was a mass and homily Rosaria would skip it not bothering to attend even if its about Mondstadts regional archon or about you

But surprisingly when she was possessed by you--she didn't dare to break away from your control whenever you did that

However she does not treat you like a deity, she merely sees you as an 'equal'--which in her eyes makes you one of many an exceptional and respectable beings

But the Knights don't like how she openly views you as she would any mortal, since its common knowledge that you are much more than an 'equal'

And The Knights of Favionious absolutely hate how she just casually walks up to you when she could've at least been courteous enough to greet you

Though her actions might be mistaken as some sort of taunting to the knights and you, it's really not--It's just her way of showing her own devotion, and much to everyone else's dismay.You seem to calm down with her casual gestures

Ignoring the knight's glares she continues to talk to you as an equal

But there's no denying that deep down everyone can feel that Rosaria is a devotee at heart

Eula

To Eula, her childhood wasn't ideal nor being a part of a clan that everyone rightfully hated

But was it silly of her to pray that she wouldn't be either feared or hated by the people of Mondstadt?Though already greatful for the people in the knights for welcoming her with warm arms.Is it really bad for her to want more praise?

not much is known about you, the moment a godly presence shown itself through the traveler she made it a goal to be a perfect vessel for you

To the point where she wouldn't pray for anything else but to be your perfect vessel. So by the time your physical form descended down in Teyvat-almost immediately praising you and your good deeds hoping that you will appreciate it

Eula won't admit it--but she would love if you were to choose her as your main acolyte

Venti

A God that felt your presence since the first time he was created

And as a small wind spirit he tried his best to show his devotion by giving small apples to a shrine he and his bard friend made!

By as decades passed by,,he isn't the type to praise you endlessly anymore, he did a few ballads about you in his mortal form-that's about it, he wasn't as a crazy worshipper (unlike a certain flying geo- scaled reptile that he would like to call friend from the land of contracts)

He merely see's you as an equal.. (like Rosaria does)

It's my freedom to choose not to! Venti would drunkly exclaim, though he would be upset after he was just rudely kicked out of Angel share because of that

Everyone in Teyvat could look at him with disdain with his response

But don't they understand-- what he suffered because of your absence

The sober part of him regrets and shames himself for disrespecting you

But then again the cycle just repeats

gets drunk.blames you for the death of his friend.then apologies profusely when sober

Though he was also one of your acolytes but he can't help but sometimes despise you.. but other times he'd find himself preaching about you as his hands played with the lyre

So then the bard was still a devotee even when drinking wine?maybe it was just pent-up anger that laced his tongue with terrible words?The citizens of Mondstadt theorize as if they were Sumeru scholars instead

It was confusing to the people of Mondstadt and even more so when the blonde traveler shows up and Venti starts acting as if he didn't spit in your name from time to time

It's still clear that he holds a small hatred to you,but with the confused look in your now physical face he can't help but sympathise you. He'd say sorry a million times of doubting you,Trying to get him forgiveness from you, he himself promised that from now on,

The wind forever will be in your side

La Signora

Rosalyne hated you the moment she came back to Mondstadt from her studies in Sumeru

She can't really see why her coworkers worship you

Especially Pierro

Knowing how his homeland was destroyed by Celestia and their Gods-- and him knowing you were absent during one's time of need

Yet Pierro stood strong in his belief, though wavered it stayed

She can respect him for that but Rosalyne can't say it for herself

the Tsaritsa and the rest of the Fatui would look at her with a disapproving look for how she views you

God complex they say that she has ,and Rosalyne would brush it off ignoring her Archons wishes and rebel instead

La Signora wont be the one who's supposed to apologising, you should be the one grovelling in her feet asking for forgiveness for the lack of actions

with you descending into Teyvat--She can make you beg and kneel for forgiveness,

And maybe she'd grant you her benevolence even if she doesn't have the authority to ever do this self-righteous act

You had no right to praised and loved while you did not do a single thing to make Teyvat in peace

Thoma

News of your descension spreaded across the the never ending storm of Inazuma -the messenger from Mondstadt seemed both petrified (by the storm) and joyous by his safe arrival at Inazuma

He would consider himself somewhat of a religious person, though he would preach the anemo Archons name in Mondstadt

Yours was more universal, seeing as how the Kamisato estate was basically filled with relics that resembled what you were depicted to look like

Not to mention a personal shrine in Inazuma that was given by no other than the Shogun herself

Thoma was beginning to feel sad when he realised when you were so far away from the nation of eternity

You were so closer to him, yet so far, assuming that he couldn't feel your presence through the clouds anymore proves that you actually had descended

All he could do was wait for your shining presence , and his patience and perseverance will be rewarded by you

Small edit: Oct 23, 2022 10:23 pm

Small edit: Dec 16,2022 11:06 am

#fatui x reader #god reader #genshin x reader #lumine #sagau #sagau x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #lisa genshin impact #Lisa x reader genshin #thoma x Reader #la signora #eula #eula x reader #rosaria #venti x reader #venti genshin x reader

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perfectpaperbluebirds · 8 months

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Sicktember #12

Prompt: Old Wives Tale

Fandom/OCs: Science Lovers OCs (Peter and Violet)

Words: 1360

Sicknario inspo: Catching cold after doing something foolhardy from this post and caretaker being sneezed on from this post (both posts by @sickromancer !)

Author’s comments/background: So many characters that I only write for Sicktember, but it’s such a treat to revisit them. I loved Peter and Violet’s first story so much (read it here), and watching them grow up is delightful to me. So here’s another domestic drabble set in the Victorian era.

~~~***~~~

Peter and Violet were sitting by the pond behind their tiny home, enjoying the late autumn sunset. They were dressed for warmth, since the wind had more than a hint of winter on it, but it was a beautiful, sunny day and they knew they wouldn't have many more of those. The married couple spoke little, enjoying the silence and each other's company. Peter had been staring at the surface of the water contemplatively, when suddenly his eyes lit up. He was on his feet in a moment, crouching at the edge of the pond with rapt stillness, carefully sliding out of his jacket.

"Peter? What is it?" Violet asked, feeling the need to whisper.

He gestured for her to be silent, his attention fixed on something at the center of the pond. They sat frozen in silence, Violet waiting for some sign as to what was happening, when out of nowhere, Peter dove into the water. The motion was so unexpected that Violet stood with a gasp, rushing to the pond's edge, hands over her mouth, but Peter appeared a moment later, grinning triumphantly with something clenched in his fist. He waded to the bank crowing with pride:

"I found one! The final specimen needed to complete our frog study! We've been looking all summer but none of the lads have even seen this breed and we'd all but given up. It's past the season for them, really. I've no idea what she's doing here now, but she's a winner, big and fat! She'll look tremendous at the exhibition."

"Oh Peter, but your clothes! You're covered in filthy, stinking pond water now. And it's freezing! You're going to catch your death behaving so."

He came fully out of the water, all of him now sopping wet and colored various shades of green and brown. "They're just clothes," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "They'll wash, and so will my skin. Besides, Britain's scientific community will benefit much from our exhibition. I'd say the contribution we're making is worth a few ruined shirts," he said, almost pleadingly, as if begging her to agree with him.

Violet glared at him, hands on her hips, not so easily swayed. "Just you wait, sir," she said, shaking her head. "You'll sing a different tune when you've caught a beastly cold from acting like a child, and I'll not feel one whit sorry for you. Diving into dirty ponds in October indeed. Why must women be vexed with men?"

Peter was already shivering in the cold air, but he cradled the frog tenderly, being careful not to injure it. “Vi, dearest, you needn't be cross. I want to be excited, and I don’t want to spoil the day by quarreling with you. I'll see to my clothes so it's not a worry on you. And you of all people, with all your training in medicine, should know that I mightn’t get sick just from getting wet. The new research from John Snow and others says that microscopic organisms are the cause of illness, not air and weather. I read you that journal just last week, don't you remember? You see, I'm sure I’ll be just fine. And right now my only wish is that you'd be happy along with me!"

Violet sighed, but a smile twitched the corners of her mouth against her will. He was so sweet and earnest as he spoke, just as he’d been when they first met. “Oh go on, then. I’m pleased you found your precious frog. But come, now, you must get cleaned up. They may be saying that weather doesn’t cause illness, but I’d rather we not tempt fate.”

Peter willingly followed her to the house, but wouldn’t see to himself until he had secured his prize to ensure she would stay well until he was ready to dress her for display. Meanwhile, Violet wouldn’t let him in the door until he had stripped down naked and been doused with a few buckets of water to remove the worst of the slime. As she was helping him disentangle himself from his sodden shirt, he froze. Just as she was about to ask him if he was well, he sneezed harshly, trying to turn away from her, mostly unsuccessfully. His nose was immediately running from the sneeze, but he had nothing to wipe it with other than his filthy shirt. She hastily handed him her own handkerchief, unable to keep a smug look from her face.

“You’ll say that sneeze was a coincidence, I’m sure, but I’ll not wonder the cold water is already having its way with you, foolish man.”

Peter made an annoyed sound. “It's only the water and slime in my nose. I’m not taking ill. Illness from the cold is an old wive’s tale now. Just you wait and see.”

~~~

Wait she did, and her reward was to see him come down with a beauty of a head cold in two days’ time. He continued to insist the foreign stuff from the pond in his nose made him sick, though, not the cold air and water. Violet kept her opinion to herself, and tried not to be too smug. Anyway, it was hard to be angry when Peter was so happy. His frog and the completion of his collection thrilled him, and he earned the unabashed admiration of his friends for his boldness and quick action. (His clothes and shoes were a loss in the end, but he paid for new from his own pocket with good grace.) The amphibian was a fine specimen to be sure, and everyone was certain she would be the crowning jewel of the exhibition.

Amidst all the excitement, though, Peter was a sniffling, sneezing, shivering mess and within a week he was unable to leave the house due to how poorly he was feeling. Putting aside her own feelings, Violet gave his cold the best care she could, for Peter's colds turned feverish at the slightest provocation. One night during the worst of it he could hardly draw breath for the clogging congestion in his chest and sinuses (worse than usual even for him, and this she could easily attribute to the pond water), so she drew him a hot bath for his feet and kept him wrapped in quilts as he soaked in the steam to keep the sickly shivers at bay, with a clean stack of handkerchiefs near at hand. He sniffled and sneezed and generally carried on, though she knew he was doing his best not to, so that her heart melted for him, even when he managed to sneeze or nearly sneeze on her almost every time she was near.

"Thangk you, dearest," he managed as she placed a bowl of stew near at hand. "I'mb sorry to incodvedience you, and I appreciade your care as always."

His earnest, watering eyes above a pink, runny nose were so endearing that she could only kiss his temple fondly. " 'Tis no trouble, for you're an easier patient than most. I'll not even waste my breath telling you never to do anything so foolhardy in the name of science again, because I know you would do it over a hundred times, given the same circumstance. So I must content myself with helping you take care in the aftermath."

He gave her a sheepish smile, scrubbing a wrist across his upper lip absently. "You do such an excellent job of idt. I'mb mbost fortunade.

She had to laugh. "I can hardly listen to you when your voice is so. You're completely pitiful when you've caught cold, my dear. I simply can't bear it." She pressed another kiss to his hair as his lips formed a pout.

"You ndeedn't treadt mbe like a child," he muttered. Yet he let his weight fall against her as she continued to stroke his hair.

"Perhaps if you didn't go jumping into ponds in your shoes and trousers like a child, I'd be less inclined to do so."

He pulled away from her to glare, but she continued to work her fingers through his hair, smiling to show she was only teasing. He leaned against her once more, mollified. She continued her ministrations to his scalp for a long while until, sick as he was, he fell fast asleep against her.

#sicktember 2023 #skt 2023 #prompt 12 #science lovers ocs

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safyresky · 6 months

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I am so ?????????

Finally watched the episode! UM. What in the fuck??? What?? The fuck??? Um???? I cannot really put into words the feeling I am having but I have a great emoji for it! 🤨🤨🤨

That's the vibe, lads.

So the Council. Ho boy. WOW. Allow me to just go OFF for a moment here :) :) :)

THEY CANNOT INTERFERE? THEY WILL NOT INTERFERE? HELLO?????

THE SAME COUNCIL THAT WAS SO KIND AND SUPPORTIVE TO SANTA DURING TSC2.

WITH THE TOOTH FAIRY WHO GAVE HIM A LIFT BACK NORTH.

MOTHER NATURE LITERALLY MARRYING SCOTT AND CAROL AT THE VERY LAST MOMENT.

OFFERING TO HELP SANTA MAKE UP THE DIFFERENCE WHEN THEY WERE BEHIND OR WHATEVER IN TSC2

THE COUNCIL THAT WAS LIKE "NO YOU CAN'T STOP BEING SANTA UR SO GOOD AT IT!"

THE SAME COUNCIL THAT CHARLIE WAS ABLE TO CALL UP ON CHRISTMAS EVEN FOR SOME EXTRA HELP? NO QUESTIONS ASKED>?

WOULD NOT HELP THE ELVES WITH MAD SANTA????

SO LA BEFANA, WHO WAS APPARENTLY ALSO A LEGENDARY FIGURE TOO (which is giving age old fanfics vibes lmao, not sure that's a good thing???? more at 10) HAD TO DO A ROBBERY? BECAUSE THEY WOULDN'T HELP?? BECAUSE THEY APPARENTLY CAN'T INTERFERE?????

WHEN THEY DO INTERFERE A LOT? SEE: THE ENTIRETY OF TSC3 WHERE THEY HAVE A MEETING BC OF SOME CARDBOARD STANDEES AND BAD WEATHER????? AND YOU ARE TELLING ME. THAT THEY WILL NOT INTERFERE WITH:

MAD SANTA ATTACKING THE POLE

EASTER BUNNY BEING TURNED INTO A BUNNY AND THEN A LEMON

EASTER BUNNY'S BASKET BEING STOLEN

EASTER BUNNY BEING KIDNAPPED

CRAZY AMOUNTS OF SANTA MAGIC ALL UNACCOUNTED FOR IN THE R E A L WORLD?????

SANDMAN MAGIC BEING USED ON SANDMAN?

BILLIONS OF SNOW GLOBES FILLED WITH CHRISTMAS MAGIC POPPING INTO THE REAL WORLD AND BEING GIFTED TO HUMANS?

THE WHOLE SIMON THING LAST SEASON?????

THEY WOULD NOT INTERFERE??? WHAT IN THE FUCK!!!!! It's funny, because like. When I was rage fic-ing post S1, I was thinking that the Council, given Scott being...SCOTT, had stopped talking to him as much bc tscs!Scott sucks so bad!! He 100% would've made comments that deffs did not sit well with ANY of the other Council Members, I mean, look at how he treated Cupid and Sandy! I'd hate to be on THAT Council during Covid, YIKES.

But like. GOD. @lmelodie you were SO RIGHT about Council stans being pissed bc I am MAD PISSED. ALSO, JUST LEARNT THAT I AM APPARENTLY A V BIG COUNCIL STAN!! (Checks out I suppose given my fic writing and reading habits, lol).

It's just so MADDENING and INFURIATING and SADDENING, IT'S ACTUALLY REALLY REALLY SAD TO SEE THAT T H I S IS HOW THEY'RE REACTING TO NOT BEING ABLE TO GET ALL THE COUNCIL MEMBERS BACK. Like, GOD, if you're unable to properly use them in the story JUST DON'T USE THEM AT ALL. I am once again REJOICING that the Millers have been left untouched, thank GOD for that!

AND ANOTHER THING (took a kitchen cleaning break and got all annoyed about loopholes). IF RESIGNING AS A LEGENDARY FIGURE ALLOWS YOUR POWERS TO WORK ON OTHERS, WHY WOULD THEY THREATEN JACK WITH THAT IN THE THIRD MOVIE? WOULDN'T YOU WANT HIM TO KEEP HIS TITLE SO THAT HIS POWERS WOULDN'T WORK ON THE REST OF YOU, INCLUDING SANTA?!?!?!?!?! THIS SHIT DOESN'T LINE UP! IT DOESN'T! LINE! UP! MY GOD! THIS SERIES IS MY VILLAIN ORIGIN STORY! THIS SERIES IS WHY PEOPLE NEED TO STOP REBOOTING OLD THINGS! 80% OF THE TIME IT'S A MISS! THAT'S TOO MUCH RISK! TOO MUCH!! AH!

I THINK I'M DONE YELLING ABOUT THE COUNCIL. PROBABLY NOT TBH. BUT FOR NOW I'LL CALL IT. GOD, I MEAN, I KNEW WHEN WE LEARNT WE'D BE SEEING SOME OF THEM THEY WOULD NOT MAKE IT OUT UNSCATHED BUT DAMN! DAMN! MORE RETCONNING LORE! DAMN!

eurhgjrbewhfnujqncwje nsdjk. GOD I'm EXHAUSTED. My brain itches. I was thinking of lobotomys today. I wonder why (/sarcasm)

(it was bc of a shitty patron at work but this just adds to the freudian slips)

UGH. Ick. Yuck. Moving on (impossible for me but we're gonna TRY!)

Elves vs Gnomes

So. The backstory thing. I just. It's cool lore but it leaves more questions than answers and just makes things SO CONFUSING. AS A DISCLAIMER: GO OFF BETTY, WE LOVE TO SEE HER BEING A BADASS. BETTY! HELL YEAH! WE HERE AT SAFYRESKY INDUSTRIES LOVE TO SEE BETTY THRIVING!

Now for the wank. From a LORE PERSPECTIVE. EURGH.

They drop that Mad Santa was a good Santa until he thought everyone was ungrateful and implemented coal and became buds with the gnomes, who apparently ran the coal mines. The gnomes get in his head and prey on his paranoia. Paranoia of WHAT. I've not done a second watch and I don't think I will because I don't actually want a lobotomy despite them being on my mind today a little too much tbh, so maybe i missed that bit, but like, come ON. We can do better in terms of giving antagonists a believable descent into villainy! GOD!

And the trap scene, that was so needlessly drawn out. They should have held him in the trap, Betty revealed her badass self, had Magnus taunt and THEN boom, Befana ALREADY THERE, and she nutcrackers his ass.

Also, calling it NOW. Not ONLY will Sandy un-nutcracker Cal, but she's deffs gonna re-nutcracker Magnus. I bet it'll be like a reversal spell or something lmao

BUT YEAH the lore for the elves around Mad Santa's reign is not quite hitting with me, I gotta say! I am not a fan of it and every time I see it (Betty and Noel aside bc they of course SHINE) it leaves me very :\. It just. Doesn't seem to hit? Or really work? It's just so convoluted to me and goes against everything they said NOT JUST in the movies but LAST SEASON AND ALSO IN INTERVIEWS ABOUT THE SERIES BEFORE TI CAME OUT! It's infuriating y'all. GOD. "A war we didn't see coming" wow, the gnomes and Pyros sure do have something in common, eh? 🤔🤔

Cal and Sandra

God, I love them. They're so funny. Cal is like destroying his room and Sandy is like BRO what the FUCK and HELPS HIM HUNT DOWN THE VEST WITH SANTA MAGIC!! USING HER BEFANA TRAINING! AND THEN HE HELPS HER MAKE UP WITH BEFANA! By lying, of course, so he can go be stupid and heroic and GET NUTCRACKER'D (they nutcrackered my boy ): BUT I LOVE THE WAY THEY SUPPORT EACH OTHER

And the almost hug that turned into punches, lol. That's so Toph coded. We love to see it!

We DON'T love to see Cal DOING THAT! THOUGH! I DID LOVE HIS SCENE WITH KRIS. I'm really hoping, given that he and Cal got duct tapped together and he knows Cal's been nutcrackered, that they give him more of a role, you know? Honestly, it'd be neat if they made Kris the next Santa! I think he'd fit the bill quite well! And then Cal could have his odd job montage and, you know, cross guard and sail on a cruise ship and such. I am VERY intrigued with this pairing, as an aside. Kris and Cal? There's potential. They're gonna fuck it up I'm sure, but we have some DANK POTENTIAL HERE

Sandra and Befana

I'M SO GLAD THEY CHATTED! I am still v much like Sandra did NOTHING wrong and Befana overacted, but I'm glad they talked. Interesting stuff about the magic taking a tole/consequences. Mad Santa really do be out here messing up the balance of things huh? And Mother Nature WON'T intervene. GOD. I know it's bc they probz couldn't get the rest of the ALIVE actors back but like. THEN WHY EVEN USE SOME OF THEM? YEESH. ANYWAY

I'm excited to see how Sandy and Befana manning home base goes! I'm glad they talked and hopefully they can un-lemon EB and just be general badasses around the Workshop, lol.

BUT YEAH. OVER ALL. ARGH. I AM ONCE AGAIN SEEING POTENTIAL, BUT KNOWING THAT IT WON'T BE REACHED IS ACTUALLY LIKE. DEVASTATING.

ALSO. I HATE THAT I WAS RIGHT ABOUT MAD SANTA GETTING TO THE POLE IN EPISODE 6. ARGH

#dani speaks #dani watches tscs #tscs spoilers #tscs #the santa clauses #tscs crit #i just finished watching tsc2 and like #wow. what a drop in quality from the movies to the SERIES #it's actually insane #anyway. gonna stew. gonna continue to imagine cs verse kicking ass in tscs verse #maybe i'll post the thing about it in my drafts. idk. it's pre season 2 so. idk!!!

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istumpysk · 1 year

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Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: Jon XI (Chapter 53)

Apologies for using Karsi as a placeholder. Val wasn't relevant enough to be on the show.

He was not a tall man, Tormund Giantsbane, but the gods had given him a broad chest and massive belly. Mance Rayder had named him Tormund Horn-Blower for the power of his lungs, and was wont to say that Tormund could laugh the snow off mountaintops. In his wroth, his bellows reminded Jon of a mammoth trumpeting.

[...]

Finally, as the shadows of the afternoon grew long outside the tent, Tormund Giantsbane—Tall-Talker, Horn-Blower, and Breaker of Ice, Tormund Thunderfist, Husband to Bears, Mead-King of Ruddy Hall, Speaker to Gods and Father of Hosts—thrust out his hand. "Done then, and may the gods forgive me. There's a hundred mothers never will, I know."

Are we being baited? We're being baited, aren't we?

"If you refuse," Mance Rayder said, "Tormund Giantsbane will sound the Horn of Winter three days hence, at dawn." - Jon X, ASOS

+.+.+

Jon clasped the offered hand. The words of his oath rang through his head. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. And for him a new refrain: I am the guard who opened the gates and let the foe march through. He would have given much and more to know that he was doing the right thing. But he had gone too far to turn back.

This is the price of peace, I pay it willingly. If I look back, I am lost. - Daenerys VIII, ADWD

+.+.+

"Gold for gruel, and boys … a cruel price. Whatever happened to that sweet lad I knew?"

They made him lord commander. "A fair bargain leaves both sides unhappy, I've heard it said. Three days?"

"If I live that long. Some o' my own will spit on me when they hear these terms." Tormund released Jon's hand. "Your crows will grumble too, if I know them. And I ought to. I have killed more o' you black buggers than I can count."

This week on Foils,

Jon negotiates an uneasy peace with those uncivilized, barbaric wildlings.

I hope he doesn't start sulking, and decide to burn everyone alive.

+.+.+

The wildling pulled off the band from his left arm and tossed it at Jon, then did the same with its twin upon his right. "Your first payment. Had those from my father and him from his. Now they're yours, you thieving black bastard."

The armbands were old gold, solid and heavy, engraved with the ancient runes of the First Men. Tormund Giantsbane had worn them as long as Jon had known him; they had seemed as much a part of him as his beard. "The Braavosi will melt these down for the gold. That seems a shame. Perhaps you ought to keep them."

"No. I'll not have it said that Tormund Thunderfist made the free folk give up their treasures whilst he kept his own."

Speaking of being baited, I continue to be distracted by the ancient runes.

+.+.+

Grief twisted Tormund's face. "Dormund was cut down in the battle for the Wall, and him still half a boy. One o' your king's knights did for him, some bastard all in grey steel with moths upon his shield. I saw the cut, but my boy was dead before I reached him. And Torwynd … it was the cold claimed him. Always sickly, that one. He just up and died one night. The worst o' it, before we ever knew he'd died he rose pale with them blue eyes. Had to see to him m'self. That was hard, Jon." Tears shone in his eyes.

Richard Horpe is with Stannis, I don't think anything is brewing.

+.+.+

"Dawn, then. Three days from now. The boys first."

"I heard you the first ten times, crow. A man'd think there was no trust between us." He spat. "Boys first, aye. Mammoths go the long way round. You make sure Eastwatch expects them. I'll make sure there's no fighting, nor rushing at your bloody gate. Nice and orderly we'll be, ducklings in a row. And me the mother duck. Har!" Tormund led Jon from his tent.

The mammoths are all at Eastwatch. Pray for Eastwatch.

If the Others do attack Eastwatch, you have a nice little parallel with Daenerys, who's about to go to war with the elephants.

+.+.+

He [Hareth] and Leathers were the only men Jon had brought with him to the parley; any more might have been seen as a sign of fear, and twenty men would have been of no more use than two if Tormund had been intent on blood.

Bruh, you have to create the illusion you're including others in your decision-making process. Even Tywin Lannister did that.

+.+.+

Ghost was the only protection Jon needed; the direwolf could sniff out foes, even those who hid their enmity behind smiles.

Ghost would have followed as well, but as the wolf came padding after them, Jon grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and wrestled him back inside. Borroq might be amongst those gathering at the Shieldhall. The last thing he needed just now was his wolf savaging the skinchanger's boar. - Jon XIII, ADWD

+.+.+

From above came the sudden sound of wings. Mormont's raven flapped from a limb of an old oak to perch upon Jon's saddle. "Corn," it cried. "Corn, corn, corn."

"Did you follow me as well?" Jon reached to shoo the bird away but ended up stroking its feathers. The raven cocked its eye at him. "Snow," it muttered, bobbing its head knowingly.

Eye, singular.

That ain't no blood raven, that's a Bran raven.

+.+.+

Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him.

They look as though they belong together. Val was clad all in white; white woolen breeches tucked into high boots of bleached white leather, white bearskin cloak pinned at the shoulder with a carved weirwood face, white tunic with bone fastenings. Her breath was white as well … but her eyes were blue, her long braid the color of dark honey, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.

"Have you been trying to steal my wolf?" he asked her.

"Why not? If every woman had a direwolf, men would be much sweeter. Even crows."

Wait a second.

WAIT A SECOND.

What happened ... to Cool Girl's ... grey eyes?

Why ... at this moment ... have they turned ... blue?

Val looked at him with pale grey eyes. - Jon X, ASOS

They had crowned her with a simple circlet of dark bronze, yet she looked more regal in bronze than Stannis did in gold. Her eyes were grey and fearless, unflinching. - Jon III, ADWD

See? Grey. She's shapeshifting again.

Something tells me that's not a continuity error.

She was as fair as he'd remembered, slender, full-breasted, graceful even at rest, with high sharp cheekbones and a thick braid of honey-colored hair that fell to her waist. - Jon X, ASOS

Her breath was white as well … but her eyes were blue - Jon XI, ADWD

Something weird is going on here, but I can't quite put my finger on it.

Worse, she was beautiful. - Arya I, AGOT

"Your bosom will be as lovely as the queen's," the old woman said as she looped her string around Sansa's chest. "You should not hide it so." - Sansa II, ASOS

"I had heard that Lord Littlefinger's daughter was fair of face and full of grace, but no one ever told me that she was a thief." - Alayne I, TWOW

Sansa had gotten their mother's fine high cheekbones - Arya I, AGOT

"OH, SWEET SHE WAS, AND PURE, AND FAIR! THE MAID WITH HONEY IN HER HAIR!" - Sansa I, ASOS

✨✨✨ Petyr studied her eyes, as if seeing them for the first time. "You have your mother's eyes. Honest eyes, and innocent. Blue as a sunlit sea. When you are a little older, many a man will drown in those eyes." - Sansa I, AFFC ✨✨✨

+.+.+

Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him.

"Have you been trying to steal my wolf?" he asked her.

"Why not? If every woman had a direwolf, men would be much sweeter. Even crows."

It's a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.

Two pairs of hose for her legs, boots that laced up to her knees, heavy leather gloves, and finally a hooded cloak of soft white fox fur.

[...]

He smiled. "I wish you could see yourself, my lady. You are so beautiful. You're crusted over with snow like some little bear cub, but your face is flushed and you can scarcely breathe. How long have you been out here? You must be very cold. Let me warm you, Sansa. - Sansa VII, ASOS

+.+.+

Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him.

"Have you been trying to steal my wolf?" he asked her.

"Why not? If every woman had a direwolf, men would be much sweeter. Even crows."

It's always there, the truth. We just need to look for it.

"I had heard that Lord Littlefinger's daughter was fair of face and full of grace, but no one ever told me that she was a thief."

"You wrong me, ser. I am no thief!"

Ser Roland placed his hand over his heart. "Then how do you explain this hole in my chest, from where you stole my heart?" - Alayne I, TWOW

+.+.+

Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him.

"Have you been trying to steal my wolf?" he asked her.

"Why not? If every woman had a direwolf, men would be much sweeter. Even crows."

Why, it's almost as if this "character" (I use that term loosely) is a plot device, who only exists to remind us of other people.

The light of the half-moon turned Val's honey-blond hair a pale silver and left her cheeks as white as snow. She took a deep breath. "The air tastes sweet."

"My tongue is too numb to tell. All I can taste is cold." - Jon VIII, ADWD

Pale silver? Bad. ❌

Dark honey, blue-eyed? Good. ✅

Okay, I'm done.

+.+.+

What had that oaf Axell Florent said of Val? "A nubile girl, not hard to look upon. Good hips, good breasts, well made for whelping children."

+.+.+

All true enough, but the wildling woman was so much more.

If you have any critical thinking skills whatsoever, this should have prompted nothing more than a laugh.

The joke is he doesn't know anything about Val. The reader doesn't know anything about Val. Val is a blank page dressed in white.

+.+.+

She had proved that by finding Tormund where seasoned rangers of the Watch had failed. She may not be a princess, but she would make a worthy wife for any lord.

Again, the appropriate response is to laugh.

Val would make a dreadful wife for any noble, and the author's going to demonstrate why.

I weep for people who can't see what's going on here.

Sansa was a lady at three, always so courteous and eager to please. - Catelyn VII, ACOK

She is good at this, he thought, as he watched her tell Lord Gyles that his cough was sounding better, compliment Elinor Tyrell on her gown, and question Jalabhar Xho about wedding customs in the Summer Isles. His cousin Ser Lancel had been brought down by Ser Kevan, the first time he'd left his sickbed since the battle. He looks ghastly. Lancel's hair had turned white and brittle, and he was thin as a stick. Without his father beside him holding him up, he would surely have collapsed. Yet when Sansa praised his valor and said how good it was to see him getting strong again, both Lancel and Ser Kevan beamed. She would have made Joffrey a good queen and a better wife if he'd had the sense to love her. He wondered if his nephew was capable of loving anyone. - Tyrion VIII, ASOS

A poor substitute for the real thing.

King Stannis had plans for Val, he knew; she was the mortar with which he meant to seal the peace between the northmen and the free folk. - Samwell I, AFFC

Our alliances in the south may be as solid as Casterly Rock, but there remains the north to win, and the key to the north is Sansa Stark. - Tyrion III, ASOS

Always has been, always will be.

She may not be a princess

Wait for it.

WAIT FOR IT.

+.+.+

But that bridge had been burned a long time ago, and Jon himself had thrown the torch. "Toregg is welcome to her," he announced. "I took a vow."

That's kind of a dick thing to say right in front of her, lol.

+.+.+

"She won't mind. Will you, girl?"

Val patted the long bone knife on her hip. "Lord Crow is welcome to steal into my bed any night he dares. Once he's been gelded, keeping those vows will come much easier for him."

HA HA she's so cool.

+.+.+

As Jon scratched Ghost behind the ear, Toregg brought up Val's horse for her. She still rode the grey garron that Mully had given her the day she left the Wall, a shaggy, stunted thing blind in one eye. As she turned it toward the Wall, she asked, "How fares the little monster?"

+.+.+

"Freedom of the castle you shall have, but I regret to say you must remain a captive. I can promise that you will not be troubled by unwanted visitors, however. My own men guard Hardin's Tower, not the queen's. And Wun Wun sleeps in the entry hall."

Sansa hovered by the door, for once unguarded. The queen had given her freedom of the castle as a reward for being good, yet even so, she was escorted everywhere she went. - Sansa V, AGOT

Shoutout to @please-dot!

+.+.+

Jon saw signs of sickness too. That disquieted him more than he could say. If Tormund's band were starved and sick, what of the thousands who had followed Mother Mole to Hardhome? Cotter Pyke should reach them soon. If the winds were kind, his fleet might well be on its way back to Eastwatch even now, with as many of the free folk as he could cram aboard.

Jon lets the sick pass the Wall.

Now I'm wondering what the author's personal stance was on Daenerys keeping the sick out of Meereen. I didn't think she had much of a choice, but perhaps George disagrees.

+.+.+

"How did you fare with Tormund?" asked Val.

"Ask me a year from now. The hard part still awaits me. The part where I convince mine own to eat this meal I've cooked for them. None of them are going to like the taste, I fear."

"Let me help."

"You have. You brought me Tormund."

"I can do more."

Why not? thought Jon. They are all convinced she is a princess. Val looked the part and rode as if she had been born on horseback. A warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her.

There it is, in all its glory.

A real authentic warrior princess.

Controversial, but I agree with him.

Val is nothing like that other princess in the story.

+.+.+

I'm not finished.

In case Jon's own thoughts weren't enough,

Val is no princess, though. I told him that half a hundred times. - Jon VIII, ADWD

George has basically confirmed Jon is projecting all over this girl.

However, in my own defense, I should note that Dalla was not a "warrior woman" per se. She was from a warrior culture, yes; one that gave women the right, but not the obligation, to be fighters. Ygritte was a warrior woman, as was (most conspicuously) the fearsome Harma Dogshead. Dalla and Val were not. - George R. R. Martin

She is no warrior, she is no princess, and she damn well sure isn't the mortar to the north.

As for Jon's thoughts on willowy creatures in towers,

He knew nothing of his mother; Eddard Stark would not talk of her. Yet he dreamed of her at times, so often that he could almost see her face. In his dreams, she was beautiful, and highborn, and her eyes were kind. - Jon III, AGOT

The mare whickered softly as Jon Snow tightened the cinch. "Easy, sweet lady," he said in a soft voice, quieting her with a touch. - Jon IX, AGOT

He was not a man you'd expect to speak of maids and wedding nights. So far as Jon knew, Qhorin had spent his whole life in the Watch. Did he ever love a maid or have a wedding? He could not ask. Instead he fanned the fire. When the blaze was all acrackle, he peeled off his stiff gloves to warm his hands, and sighed, wondering if ever a kiss had felt as good. - Jon VIII, ACOK

Sometimes she sang in a low husky voice that stirred him. And sometimes by the cookfire when she sat hugging her knees with the flames waking echoes in her red hair, and looked at him, just smiling . . . well, that stirred some things as well. - Jon II, ASOS

If I could show her Winterfell . . . give her a flower from the glass gardens, feast her in the Great Hall, and show her the stone kings on their thrones. We could bathe in the hot pools, and love beneath the heart tree while the old gods watched over us. - Jon V, ASOS

"Then I'd push him in a stream or throw a bucket o' water on him. Anyhow, men shouldn't smell sweet like flowers."

"What's wrong with flowers?" - Jon V, ASOS

For a time he dreamed that Ygritte was with him, tending him with gentle hands. - Jon VI, ASOS

He watched the child nurse at Gilly's breast, and then he watched Jon watch. Jon is smiling. A sad smile, still, but definitely a smile of sorts. Sam was glad to see it. It is the first time I've seen him smile since I got back. - Samwell IV, ASOS

A snowflake danced upon the air. Then another. Dance with me, Jon Snow, he thought. You'll dance with me anon. - Jon XII, ADWD

I might take it more seriously if he wasn't such a willowy boy.

+.+.+

"I must inform the queen of this agreement," he said. "You are welcome to come meet her, if you can find it in yourself to bend a knee." It would never do to offend Her Grace before he even opened his mouth.

"May I laugh when I kneel?"

"You may not. This is no game. A river of blood runs between our peoples, old and deep and red. Stannis Baratheon is one of the few who favors admitting wildlings to the realm. I need his queen's support for what I've done."

Val's playful smile died. "You have my word, Lord Snow. I will be a proper wildling princess for your queen."

Oh boy, I can't wait to see how well princess emissary does.

Teach him, author. Show him what happens to 11-year-old girls boys who romanticize pretty princes princesses they don't know.

+.+.+

She is not my queen, he might have said. If truth be told, the day of her departure cannot come too fast for me. And if the gods are good, she will take Melisandre with her.

I know this is about Selyse, but.

+.+.+

"If it please m'lord, the lads were wondering. Will it be peace, m'lord? Or blood and iron?"

"Peace," Jon Snow replied. "Three days hence, Tormund Giantsbane will lead his people through the Wall. As friends, not foes. Some may even swell our ranks, as brothers. It will be for us to make them welcome. Now back to your duties."

This, plus the conflict between Daenerys and Yunkai being (temporarily) resolved by a peace deal, is another strong indicator the Others will not be stopped with swords or magic.

+.+.+

Bring parchment, quills, and a pot of maester's black to my chambers. Then summon Marsh, Yarwyck, Septon Cellador, Clydas." Cellador would be half-drunk, and Clydas was a poor substitute for a real maester, but they were what he had. Till Sam returns.

Poor substitutes everywhere you look! What happened to getting more maesters?

"If you ask the Citadel for more maesters . . ."

"I mean to. We'll have need of every one. Aemon Targaryen is not so easily replaced, however." - Jon II, ADWD

Looks like the author is going to pretend it doesn't take years to become a maester. Who needs a 5 year gap?

+.+.+

He turned to Val. "My lady. With me, if you please."

"The crow commands, the captive must obey." Her tone was playful.

They made their way toward the King's Tower, along fresh-shoveled pathways between mounds of dirty snow. "I have heard it said that your queen has a great dark beard."

Jon knew he should not smile, but he did.

Commanding them was Ser Patrek of King's Mountain, clad in his knightly raiment of white and blue and silver, his cloak a spatter of five-pointed stars. When presented to Val, the knight sank to one knee to kiss her glove. "You are even lovelier than I was told, princess," he declared. "The queen has told me much and more of your beauty."

"How odd, when she has never seen me." Val patted Ser Patrek on the head. "Up with you now, ser kneeler. Up, up." She sounded as if she were talking to a dog.

It was all that Jon could do not to laugh.

+.+.+

When presented to Val, the knight sank to one knee to kiss her glove. "You are even lovelier than I was told, princess," he declared. "The queen has told me much and more of your beauty."

"How odd, when she has never seen me."

Not to be outdone, the pimply knight hopped up and said, "Ser Ossifer speaks truly, you are the most beautiful maid in all the Seven Kingdoms." It might have been a sweeter courtesy had he not addressed it to her chest.

"And have you seen all those maids yourself, ser?" Alayne asked him. "You are young to be so widely travelled." - Alayne I, TWOW

Shoutout to @please-dot!

+.+.+

They found Her Grace sewing by the fire, whilst her fool danced about to music only he could hear, the cowbells on his antlers clanging. "The crow, the crow," Patchface cried when he saw Jon. "Under the sea the crows are white as snow, I know, I know, oh, oh, oh."

If under the sea is still code for death, then I believe that's more evidence of Jon warging inside Ghost.

+.+.+

There was no sign of Lady Melisandre. For that much Jon was grateful.

Lol.

+.+.+

"Your Grace." He took a knee. Val did likewise.

Wow, impressive. Let's see your curtsy, princess blue-blood.

+.+.+

"Are you the wildling princess?" Shireen asked Val.

"Some call me that," said Val. "My sister was wife to Mance Rayder, the King-Beyond-the-Wall. She died giving him a son."

I'm sorry, don't the kneelers call you that?

+.+.+

"I'm a princess too," Shireen announced, "but I never had a sister. I used to have a cousin once, before he sailed away. He was just a bastard, but I liked him."

"Honestly, Shireen," her mother said. "I am sure the lord commander did not come to hear about Robert's by-blows. Patchface, be a good fool and take the princess to her room."

The bells on his hat rang. "Away, away," the fool sang. "Come with me beneath the sea, away, away, away." He took the little princess by one hand and drew her from the room, skipping.

Hey, princess Sansa has a bastard cousin she's fond of too.

Please don't take Shireen beneath the sea. Please?

+.+.+

Jon said, "Your Grace, the leader of the free folk has agreed to my terms."

Queen Selyse gave the tiniest of nods. "It was ever my lord husband's wish to grant sanctuary to these savage peoples. So long as they keep the king's peace and the king's laws, they are welcome in our realm." She pursed her lips. "I am told they have more giants with them."

Yes, that was definitely something Stannis genuinely cared about.

Melisandre nodded solemnly, as if she had taken his words to heart, but this Weeper did not matter. None of his free folk mattered. They were a lost people, a doomed people, destined to vanish from the earth, as the children of the forest had vanished. - Melisandre I, ADWD

+.+.+

She pursed her lips. "I am told they have more giants with them." Val answered. "Almost two hundred of them, Your Grace. And more than eighty mammoths."

The queen shuddered. "Dreadful creatures." Jon could not tell if she was speaking of the mammoths or the giants. "Though such beasts might be useful to my lord husband in his battles."

There's two hundred giants, and eighty mammoths?

Probably not for long.

"Though such beasts might be useful to my lord husband in his battles."

I hate these people.

+.+.+

Selyse sniffed. "If you say so. No doubt you know about such things. Where do you mean to settle these wildlings? Surely Mole's Town is not large enough to contain … how many are they?" "Four thousand, Your Grace. They will help us garrison our abandoned castles, the better to defend the Wall."

Numbers update! Four thousand wildlings are passing the Wall.

Most of them are not fighting men, and won't factor into the battle for Winterfell.

+.+.+

"I see you have considered all this carefully, Lord Snow. I am sure King Stannis will be pleased when he returns triumphant from his battle."

Lol, k.

You know what I would do if I triumphantly won back Winterfell, and secured a kingdom to my cause?

Burn my daughter alive to celebrate.

+.+.+

"Of course," the queen went on, "the wildlings must first acknowledge Stannis as their king and R'hllor as their god."

And here we are, face-to-face in the narrow passage. "Your Grace, forgive me. Those were not the terms that we agreed to."

The queen's face hardened. "A grievous oversight." What faint traces of warmth her voice had held vanished all at once.

Don't worry, Jon's a seasoned veteran when it comes to tense matters like this. He's got this under contr-

+.+.+

"Free folk do not kneel," Val told her.

"Then they must be knelt," the queen declared.

"Do that, Your Grace, and we will rise again at the first chance," Val promised. "Rise with blades in hand."

The queen's lips tightened, and her chin gave a small quiver. "You are insolent. I suppose that is only to be expected of a wildling. We must find you a husband who can teach you courtesy."

Damn, you fucking suck at this, princess diplomacy.

+.+.+

"Your Grace." Jon knelt again. This time Val did not join him. "I am sorry my actions have displeased you. I did as I thought best. Do I have your leave to go?"

I would have liked to see him reflect on what a dumbass princess fumble is, but I understand I can't have everything.

Or maybe I can ...

+.+.+

Once outside and well away from the queen's men, Val gave vent to her wroth. "You lied about her beard. That one has more hair on her chin than I have between my legs. And the daughter … her face …"

"Greyscale."

"The grey death is what we call it."

"It is not always mortal in children."

"North of the Wall it is. Hemlock is a sure cure, but a pillow or a blade will work as well. If I had given birth to that poor child, I would have given her the gift of mercy long ago."

Oh no, what's happening? Say it ain't so, princess filicide.

Surely you wouldn't kill your own child if it was unnecessary.

The curse was oft seen in children, especially in damp, cold climes. The afflicted flesh stiffened, calcified, and cracked, though the dwarf had read that greyscale's progress could be stayed by limes, mustard poultices, and scalding-hot baths (the maesters said) or by prayer, sacrifice, and fasting (the septons insisted). Then the disease passed, leaving its young victims disfigured but alive. Maesters and septons alike agreed that children marked by greyscale could never be touched by the rarer mortal form of the affliction, nor by its terrible swift cousin, the grey plague. - Tyrion V, ADWD

You should keep going, princess merciful. Nothing turns Jon on more than talk of killing kids.

+.+.+

This was a Val that Jon had never seen before. "Princess Shireen is the queen's only child."

A little too much wildling in that wildling, huh?

You've never seen any part of Val before, you banana.

+.+.+

"I pity both of them. The child is not clean."

DON'T STOP GEORGE. LEARN HIM.

+.+.+

"If Stannis wins his war, Shireen will stand as heir to the Iron Throne."

"Then I pity your Seven Kingdoms."

+.+.+

"The maesters say greyscale is not—"

"The maesters may believe what they wish. Ask a woods witch if you would know the truth. The grey death sleeps, only to wake again. The child is not clean!"

"She seems a sweet girl. You cannot know—"

"I can. You know nothing, Jon Snow." Val seized his arm. "I want the monster out of there. Him and his wet nurses. You cannot leave them in that same tower as the dead girl."

Jon shook her hand away. "She is not dead."

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

+.+.+

"She is. Her mother cannot see it. Nor you, it seems. Yet death is there." She walked away from him, stopped, turned back. "I brought you Tormund Giantsbane. Bring me my monster."

Bring princess maternal the monster. She's great with children.

Death is certainly there for Shireen, but not for the reasons Val believes.

While we're on the topic of mercy killing kids, would you like to know who you're supposed to be thinking about while this conversation is taking place? ("Then I pity your Seven Kingdoms.")

"He could end his torment," Jaime said. "I would, if it were my son. It would be a mercy." - Tyrion I, AGOT

"Oh, don't be absurd." Cersei closed the window. "Yes, I hoped the boy would die. So did you. Even Robert thought that would have been for the best. 'We kill our horses when they break a leg, and our dogs when they go blind, but we are too weak to give the same mercy to crippled children,' he told me. He was blind himself at the time, from drink." - Jaime IX, ASOS

Yeah, this girl is totally Jon's happy ending.

+.+.+

"If I can, I will."

"Do. You owe me a debt, Jon Snow."

Jon watched her stride away. She is wrong. She must be wrong. Greyscale is not so deadly as she claims, not in children.

Shireen is fine, she's had greyscale for 11 years now.

Let's wait and see if that not deadly disease is used to justify a horrific act.

Ask a woods witch if you would know the truth. The grey death sleeps, only to wake again.

+.+.+

At four hundred feet the wind had teeth, and tore at his black cloak so it slapped noisily at the iron bars. At seven hundred it cut right through him. The Wall is mine, Jon reminded himself as the winchmen were swinging in the cage, for two more days, at least.

Close. It's yours for about another week, then you can say goodbye.

+.+.+

Both wore woolen hoods pulled down over their heads, so nothing could be seen of their faces but their eyes, but he knew Ty by the tangled rope of greasy black hair falling down his back and Owen by the sausage stuffed into the scabbard at his hip. He might have known them anyway, just by the way they stood. A good lord must know his men, his father had once told him and Robb, back at Winterfell.

I wish you'd do a better job at knowing Bowen Marsh.

+.+.+

Jon walked to the edge of the Wall and gazed down upon the killing ground where Mance Rayder's host had died. He wondered where Mance was now. Did he ever find you, little sister? Or were you just a ploy he used so I would set him free?

We're still trying to figure that one out, Jon.

+.+.+

It had been so long since he had last seen Arya. What would she look like now? Would he even know her? Arya Underfoot. Her face was always dirty. Would she still have that little sword he'd had Mikken forge for her? Stick them with the pointy end, he'd told her. Wisdom for her wedding night if half of what he heard of Ramsay Snow was true. Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl.

Arya Stark, still very much a child in the eyes of Jon Snow.

Unrelated, but did you know Shireen and Arya are the exact same age? I bet Jon knows.

+.+.+

Jon Snow flexed the fingers of his sword hand, remembering all he'd lost. Sam, you sweet fat fool, you played me a cruel jape when you made me lord commander. A lord commander has no friends.

+.+.+

Jon pointed at the lights of their campfires. "There they are. Four thousand, Tormund claims."

"Three thousand, I make them, by the fires." Bowen Marsh lived for counts and measures. "More than twice that number at Hardhome with the woods witch, we are told. And Ser Denys writes of great camps in the mountains beyond the Shadow Tower …"

Scratch that, three thousand wildings are passing the Wall. More than six thousand are at Hardhome.

Many more are in the mountains beyond the Shadow Tower. Do we know what's happening at the Shadow Tower?

+.+.+

Jon did not deny it. "Tormund says the Weeper means to try the Bridge of Skulls again."

The Old Pomegranate touched his scar. He had gotten it defending the Bridge of Skulls the last time the Weeping Man had tried to cut his way across the Gorge. "Surely the lord commander cannot mean to allow that … that demon through as well?"

"Not gladly." Jon had not forgotten the heads the Weeping Man had left him, with bloody holes where their eyes had been. Black Jack Bulwer, Hairy Hal, Garth Greyfeather. I cannot avenge them, but I will not forget their names. "But yes, my lord, him as well. We cannot pick and choose amongst the free folk, saying this one may pass, this one may not. Peace means peace for all."

[...]

"How many rangers has the Weeper killed?" asked Othell Yarwyck. "How many women has he raped or killed or stolen?"

"Three of mine own ilk," said Old Flint. "And he blinds the girls he does not take."

Similar to Daenerys and her peace deal, Jon's forced to swallow an especially difficult pill.

I'm not smart enough to tell you what should have happened.

+.+.+

"You need not trust a man to use him." Else how could I make use of all of you? "We need the Weeper, and others like him. Who knows the wild better than a wildling? Who knows our foes better than a man who has fought them?"

That's kind of unfair. They haven't done anything. Yet.

+.+.+

"Brothers should not squabble," Septon Cellador said. "Let us kneel and pray to the Crone to light our way to wisdom."

George mocking "thoughts and prayers" before it became a thing.

+.+.+

"Lord Snow," said The Norrey, "where do you mean to put these wildlings o' yours? Not on my lands, I hope."

"Aye," declared Old Flint. "You want them in the Gift, that's your folly, but see they don't wander off or I'll send you back their heads. Winter is nigh, I want no more mouths to feed."

I think it was paramount he involve these two in the negotiations.

The Night's Watch relies on the support of noble houses, especially northern houses.

+.+.+

"The wildlings will remain upon the Wall," Jon assured them. "Most will be housed in one of our abandoned castles." The Watch now had garrisons at Icemark, Long Barrow, Sable Hall, Greyguard, and Deep Lake, all badly undermanned, but ten castles still stood empty and abandoned. "Men with wives and children, all orphan girls and any orphan boys below the age of ten, old women, widowed mothers, any woman who does not care to fight. The spearwives we'll send to Long Barrow to join their sisters, single men to the other forts we've reopened. Those who take the black will remain here, or be posted to Eastwatch or the Shadow Tower. Tormund will take Oakenshield as his seat, to keep him close at hand."

Tormund Oakenshield. Can someone tell me if Thorin Oakenshield ever blows a horn?

I'm not sure these castles survive the Wall falling. They have to go somewhere else.

You want them in the Gift, that's your folly

+.+.+

Bowen Marsh sighed. "If they do not slay us with their swords, they will do so with their mouths. Pray, how does the lord commander propose to feed Tormund and his thousands?"

Jon had anticipated that question. "Through Eastwatch. We will bring in food by ship, as much as might be required. From the riverlands and the stormlands and the Vale of Arryn, from Dorne and the Reach, across the narrow sea from the Free Cities."

"And this food will be paid for … how, if I may ask?"

With gold, from the Iron Bank of Braavos, Jon might have replied. Instead he said, "I have agreed that the free folk may keep their furs and pelts. They will need those for warmth when winter comes. All other wealth they must surrender. Gold and silver, amber, gemstones, carvings, anything of value. We will ship it all across the narrow sea to be sold in the Free Cities."

"All the wealth o' the wildlings," said The Norrey. "That should buy you a bushel o' barleycorn. Two bushels, might be."

SAY THAT. TELL THEM.

Like, almost every insurrection happens because of food scarcity in this series. Please tell them you have money to buy food.

+.+.+

"Lord Commander, why not demand that the wildlings give up their arms as well?" asked Clydas.

Leathers laughed at that. "You want the free folk to fight beside you against the common foe. How are we to do that without arms? Would you have us throw snowballs at the wights? Or will you give us sticks to hit them with?"

The arms most wildlings carry are little more than sticks, thought Jon.

SAY THE QUIET PART OUT LOUD.

+.+.+

"Tormund has given me his oath. He will serve with us until the spring. The Weeper and their other captains will swear the same or we will not let them pass."

Old Flint shook his head. "They will betray us."

"The Weeper's word is worthless," said Othell Yarwyck.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think we get another update on the Weeper in this book. I don't think he's passed the Wall.

+.+.+

"The gods of the North, since before this Wall was raised," said Jon. "Those are the gods that Tormund swore by. He will keep his word. I know him, as I knew Mance Rayder. I marched with them for a time, you may recall."

"I had not forgotten," said the Lord Steward.

No, thought Jon, I did not think you had.

What possessed him to bring that up?

+.+.+

"It is not their children who concern us. We fear the fathers, not the sons."

"As do I. So I insisted upon hostages." I am not the trusting fool you take me for … nor am I half wildling, no matter what you believe. "One hundred boys between the ages of eight and sixteen. A son from each of their chiefs and captains, the rest chosen by lot. The boys will serve as pages and squires, freeing our own men for other duties. Some may choose to take the black one day. Queerer things have happened. The rest will stand hostage for the loyalty of their sires."

The northmen glanced at one another. "Hostages," mused The Norrey. "Tormund has agreed to this?"

It was that, or watch his people die. "My blood price, he called it," said Jon Snow, "but he will pay."

Maybe lead with this next time.

Can't say I'm a big fan of child hostages.

We're going to hope this doesn't go to hell once Jon's killed. If I had to guess, I'd say the Meereen hostages both sides hold are in a lot greater danger.

+.+.+

"None but them whose sires displeased the Kings o' Winter," said The Norrey. "Those came home shorter by a head. So you tell me, boy … if these wildling friends o' yours prove false, do you have the belly to do what needs be done?"

Ask Janos Slynt. "Tormund Giantsbane knows better than to try me. I may seem a green boy in your eyes, Lord Norrey, but I am still a son of Eddard Stark."

Janos Slynt wasn't an innocent child, tough guy.

+.+.+

Marsh flushed a deeper shade of red. "The lord commander must pardon my bluntness, but I have no softer way to say this. What you propose is nothing less than treason. For eight thousand years the men of the Night's Watch have stood upon the Wall and fought these wildlings. Now you mean to let them pass, to shelter them in our castles, to feed them and clothe them and teach them how to fight. Lord Snow, must I remind you? You swore an oath."

"I know what I swore." Jon said the words. "I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. Were those the same words you said when you took your vows?"

"They were. As the lord commander knows."

"Are you certain that I have not forgotten some? The ones about the king and his laws, and how we must defend every foot of his land and cling to each ruined castle? How does that part go?" Jon waited for an answer. None came. "I am the shield that guards the realms of men. Those are the words. So tell me, my lord—what are these wildlings, if not men?"

Bowen Marsh opened his mouth. No words came out. A flush crept up his neck.

That's a great point, but I wouldn't have been so sassy about it.

To be fair, I know what happens.

+.+.+

Outside the day was bright and cloudless. The sun had returned to the sky after a fortnight's absence, and to the south the Wall rose blue-white and glittering. There was a saying Jon had heard from the older men at Castle Black: the Wall has more moods than Mad King Aerys, they'd say, or sometimes, the Wall has more moods than a woman. On cloudy days it looked to be white rock. On moonless nights it was as black as coal. In snowstorms it seemed carved of snow. But on days like this, there was no mistaking it for anything but ice. On days like this the Wall shimmered bright as a septon's crystal, every crack and crevasse limned by sunlight, as frozen rainbows danced and died behind translucent ripples. On days like this the Wall was beautiful.

Jon Snow turned away. The last light of the sun had begun to fade. He watched the cracks along the Wall go from red to grey to black, from streaks of fire to rivers of black ice. Down below, Lady Melisandre would be lighting her nightfire and chanting, Lord of Light, defend us, for the night is dark and full of terrors.

The beginning and end of the chapter. The Wall is doing symbolism again.

+.+.+

"Winter is coming," Jon said at last, breaking the awkward silence, "and with it the white walkers. The Wall is where we stop them. The Wall was made to stop them … but the Wall must be manned. This discussion is at an end. We have much to do before the gate is opened. Tormund and his people will need to be fed and clothed and housed. Some are sick and will need nursing. Those will fall to you, Clydas. Save as many as you can."

[...]

"Lord Bowen, you shall collect the tolls. The gold and silver, the amber, the torques and armbands and necklaces. Sort it all, count it, see that it reaches Eastwatch safely."

"Yes, Lord Snow," said Bowen Marsh.

And Jon thought, "Ice," she said, "and daggers in the dark. Blood frozen red and hard, and naked steel." His sword hand flexed. The wind was rising.

What's the point of remembering those words if you're not going to do anything about it?

Final thoughts:

Often imitated, never duplicated.

That's what happens when you expect a cheap knockoff to do the job of a real princess.

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #adwd #jon xi #winter of walloping val

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uchiha-7thsingularity · 2 years

Text

Felix x Rime x MC tripod.

"Drop it like a throuple. Drop it like a throuple. I said drop it like throuple and NO ONE gonna be a triple threat in your stead. You pull up with the squad with triple x, big flex, magic threats.".... *MC takes a breath*....(continues rapping and twerking)"feel my wraith, as I breathe fire on your shadowy ass."��

Felix is blushing to tuck his face into his knees hugging his chest. Rime acts annoyed but low-key entertained by your mischief.

Promise rings with initials carved on the inside of each with an infinity symbol.

Rime will most definitely summon ice to let MC make snow cones or ice cream for the gang.

Felix will act out scenes when he thinks he's alone. Only to realize Rime and MC we're watching him from the crack in the door. Will tease him to the point he checks every corner out of his paranoia.

MC cleans after the boys mess. Scolds them to than be tackled to the floor as they both take turns tickling.

Dress in each other clothes to pretend you guys are runway models. Pose darling. Flip the hair. Be a star.

One of you showed up late to your shared room. The other two wait in the dark with one in a red comforter and the other in their lap. Both ask,"Ask yourself. Was it worth it? WAS IT?!!" Their lover is neutralized as they pull out a bag of midnight snacks so that's why they ran later than usual. "You tell me."

Feeding fruit or cheese to one another. Accidently bite the other fingertip and kiss it lightly. Pouring a glass of wine to sip while the three sway with each other under candlelight. Locking hands to simultaneously pull everyone into the inner circle they've established.

Painting coasters together to then have paint marks on their body. (Taste the rainbow.)

Fish braids in either lad's hair. Ponytail, regular braid, small bun, and so on. MC once got their fingers tangled in rimes hair that Felix had to cut the ribbon binding the two jointly.

MC will haul Felix's bridal style, piggyback, and over the shoulder to just carry them places to get a reaction. And to assist in showing off their strength.

At a banquet, MC is being harassed by a smug group of robust folk. Felix has noticed for a while but MC brushes it off assuring him their fine. Rime just scowls down upon them from afar. The two gentleman knows the anxiety of attending these snobby events. MC is minding their own business by one of the fountains...when an envious lady-in-waiting saw MC "snag" two infamous house affiliates walking in on both arms, wearing a glorious gown. She decides to talk to a distracted MC observing the enormous chandelier up above. As the woman blabbers about herself adding in snide comments. MC finally realizes the lady is jealous with them so they call them out. And MC tells them gently and kindly to appreciate themselves a little more to care less about their beauty and status. To focus more so on their opportunity to live in a moment enjoying what they have now than plan their lifetime in a single moment with every wasted breath they take. The woman is stunned 😧 as MC goes to walk away. She pushes MC into the fountain. Felix and Rime quickly come to the rescue giving MC a jacket to wear. These boys go to confront the lady until MC starts laughing non-stop. Irritated and mildly bewildered the two guys whisk MC away to dry off while the MC is more than delighted to be comforted by her two precious lovers.

Mc is singing a tune when rime joins for his favorite verses/ lyrics. In the background, Felix has a polyamorous flag waving in the background. His arms are weak but his dramatic ambitions are one of a kind.

Rime and Felix film MC *rubs neck in anticipation* (fans only) or fluff (cosplay outfits with comedic effect).

Elowen walked in once with MC on their knees having a choker on while rime held their phone in one hand and a chain in the other. She prefers to let them be. Teases them later.

Another time Escell was going to discuss a matter with his son when he catches Felix in a maid outfit being held in MC's arms wearing an afro and clown makeup. These two agreed to knock twice before entering a room from now on. Later they pass each other in the hall, "F-father…., ” Felix and Escell avoid eye contact. Escell nods curtly to him, "Foreplay isn't ALWAYS significant." Disgusted and humiliated he hears his other dad down the hall, "YES...it is!!" Covering his ears,"In all the nine circles of heaven and hell….!!"

Skinny dipping is a mutually agreed choice. Cliff diving. Theatre plays. Cards. Pac-Man around the pool. (Two people as the ghost running around the pool. The person as Pac-Man can only walk on the lines in between the wet stones. Careful of slipping into the cold waters. Home-made bowling (pins replaced with books) and the bowling ball replaced with pillows. Hide-and-seek. Felix cheats with his portals. And rime will use a tracking spell to find his small beans. MC hides in the same exact place every time. On top of the chandelier. Guessing the character, novel, song, musical, playwright, and etc.

When one is jealous the other two notice and re-assure to include the left-out one. If they decide to date another or bring someone else into the relationship the current relationships are to be in order and stable.

Encouraged a chore chart for each day, chore, room, and person. Sticking to original plans before changing or switching partners. Remembering to say, "I Love you" at least once every day to each other.

#fictif #last legacy #felix iskandar escellun #rime solano varela #gender neutral reader #polyamourous

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elsternwick-rp · 5 months

Text

Elsternwick Holiday Update (12-22-23)

Good evening, and very happy holidays to everyone! We hope the past few months have treated you all well, we have been very busy these past few weeks, but we're finally ready to post an update to those who follow us, or have just stumbled upon us in the search results!

Quite a few things have happened in Elsternwick since our last update covering the Autumn Update, and what better day to update things than on the Winter Solstice? Let's begin!

Terrible Tundra of Tiny Terror (Holiday Update) {December 2nd - February 2nd)}

A chill wind blows through the river town of Elsternwick, a blizzard settled over the town as odd occurrences within the nexus coincided at the worst possible time...

It's winter, yes, but something is truly odd around town! Besides the feet of snow and blistering cold, you spy odd footprints within the snow, giggling behind every corner, as well as small claw marks here and there.

Not only that, but attempts to leave Elsternwick are thwarted, should you go beyond the mountains to the east, or the deepest parts of the woods to the west, you'll instead be transported to a vast tundra filled with strange creatures of all shapes and sizes...

Whatever plagues the area have one thing in common...

They are all very small, and you may just be as tiny before you know it!

Welcome to Elsternwick's third annual Holiday update!

As with our previous Autumn event, this time we decided to have a central theme to allow for sandbox work, the theme this year, as you may have guessed, are tiny terrors!

Killer dolls, mischievous gremlins, the Yule Lads and Krampus' little helpers, as long as they are tiny, they'll be causing trouble for the Winter Season in Elsternwick!

Though, if you're feeling more adventurous, perhaps you can take a journey into the titular Tundra of Tiny Terror, whenever you enter, you can explore to find strange creatures, beautiful treasure, and of course, various rewards, but be warned, for its odd properties may cause creatures that are normally small to become big problems!

If you'd rather avoid your muse getting launched out of a window, you can instead opt to turn your muse small, perhaps into a living doll, as a small animal, or perhaps something else tiny, it's all up to you!

As with most of our events, this is a sandbox style event where you can participate however you like, we look forward to how you'll engage with it in a creative manner!

(As before, the Terrible Tundra is something of an open area with extra incentives for rewards if you're feeling like having an adventure!)

This event will run until the end of January, so you have plenty of time to get creative, think big, or small, it doesn't matter, we look forward to what you have in store!

If you wish to run an encounter, don't be shy, simply let people know and the mods will let you run loose as long as it's within reason!

Don't get cold feet, we're sure you'll do great in this event!

Secondly, we have a character update to sort through, so let's get to that!

New Arrivals (12-22-23)

The train has pulled into station, bringing with it many fresh new faces to Elsternwick, we hope you enjoy your stay here!

Grand Admiral Thrawn (Star Wars) - Cecil

Utena Tenjou (Revolutionary Girl Utena) - Xeno

Asirpa (Golden Kamuy) - Laudines

Shinki (Touhou) - Finale

Sonia the Octopus (Original Character) - Rook

Sicely Nohell (Star Wars/Homestuck Original Character) - Cecil

Reserves

We also have a few reserves, hopefully soon, we’ll be seeing them, and look forward to whatever plots you may do with them!

Pomni (The Amazing Digital Circus) - Rook

Izu (Kamen Rider Zero-One) - Bee

Shotaro Hidari (Kamen Rider W) - Blue

Okina Matara (Touhou) - Laudines

Dropped

Lastly, we have some drops and dropped reserves, sad to see them go, but we hope you had a good time in Elsternwick while they were here!

The Hollow Knight/Atlas (Hollow Knight) - Xeno

Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic the Hedgehog) - Xeno

Convection of a Waking Soul (original character) - Xeno

SilverAsh (Arknights) - Carmine

Dropped Reserves

Ori (Ori and the Blind Forest) - Rook

Sento (Kamen Rider) - Thana

Haruki (Ultraman) - Thana

And that does it! We hope this character update helps inspire other character choices for future muses, and look forward to what you might be doing with these new characters or future characters! <:

Januscary...?

Just about done with updates, 2023 is rapidly coming to a close, and we're excited for what lies in wait for 2024, we've already got a few ideas for what's to come, including next month in the month of January-...

A somewhat uncommon trend is to release horror movies or do scary things in January, and we thought it might be fun to attempt that this year, Terrible Tundra of Tiny Terror will continue to run, but we just might have some other frightening treats for the month as well!

The aforementioned Army of Darkness adventure by Shin will be played then, which inspired by the movie of the same name, involving the undead, time travel, and the time of the vikings, but that doesn't have to be the only thing we have planned! We may have some other bonechilling encounters figured out by then, we'll be sure to keep you updated as the time comes, but if that inspires you, we'd love to hear what you have in mind!

Update Done!

That about does it! Not as big as the Autumn update, but we're happy to keep you all updated! We hope you have a great evening and Holiday season!

And we also hope you'll have a great time in Elsternwick's Winter, of course!

And if you’re not part of Elsternwick, we look forward to hearing from you if this event/update perhaps interests you!

Winter will continue to go on with more fun activities, and of course, after Winter comes Spring, and who knows what that new growth may bring with it...? We hope you'll look forward to whatever may come!

But until then, we hope you have a wonderful day and holiday season, and look forward to whatever you may do, both within Elsternwick and outside of it! See you again soon!

#elsternwick annoucements #elsternwick rp arrivals #elsternwick events #discord mfrp #discord rp group #discord multifandom rp #discord roleplay server

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itscominghome · 2 years

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Summary: You, Mason, Kai, Timo and Reece all play a drinking game whilst watching a series of Christmas films.

Notes: Requests are closed x

Warnings: Consumption of alcohol and suggestive language

It'll be Fun, They Said - Mason Mount

When the idea of a Christmas film drinking game had been brought up, to say Mason was sceptical was an understatement. He knew that the purpose of these games was to get everyone drunk, and he also knew that when he was drunk he was super clingy. While I found it cute, Mason found it embarrassing and wasn't big on being PDA without knowing he was being PDA. When at a match or early on in a night out, Mason would always pepper your face with kisses, or kiss you passionately, showing you off. But, the clinginess he experienced when he was drunk meant he would instead cling to me wherever I went or beg me for kisses and not remember it the next morning until he went into training and got teased by his teammates.

"Oh, come on, Mase. It'll be fun!" Reece said, flopping down onto the sofa and reaching for the remote. And with the begging from Timo, Kai, Reece and I, Mason finally agreed to play along. But, there was a twist we hadn't told Mason about. With him not liking vodka, we had replaced all of the vodka in the bottle with water whilst Mason drank rum. So with our glasses full of water, and Mason's full oh high percentage alcohol, we started our Christmas movie marathon. And we were in for a fun night of clingy, drunk Mason. The rules were that you had to drink whenever:

Santa was mentioned

Someone said "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Christmas"

You saw a reindeer, a Christmas tree or snow

Every time a Christmas song played in the background

Two people “just happen” to stand under the mistletoe

Unexplained “magical” things happen, because it’s Christmas

The movie ends with a wedding

Talking animal

A scene is set at the North Pole

And by the end of the first film, Mason was already ridiculously tipsy. His hands often trailed up and down my thighs, or his arms would wrap tightly around my waist in an attempt to pull me closer. The boys would send me looks from across the room, sniggering behind their hands every time Mason not-so-subtly whispered something dirty in my ear.

"Y/n/n, come here, please," Mason begged after I had sat down a few centimetres away from him. I rolled my eyes as he gave me his best puppy dog eyes. I inch closer and all of a sudden I've been pulled into a tight hug and I'm being smothered with kisses.

"Can we go upstairs, please? I want to show you just how much I love you," Mason says, attempting a seductive tone, but slurring and failing miserably. And the sentence was nowhere near close to the whisper he thought it was as Reece and Kai wolf-whistled in our direction, poking fun at the clearly very horny and very clingy Mason.

"No, we're watching films with the boys remember,"

"Oh yeah." And he settles back down into my side. But, at the end of the second film, 'Love Actually', I go into the kitchen to fetch some more snack for us all. And I've not even been out of the room for thirty seconds before Mason trudges in, wrapping his arms around me as I lean up against the kitchen counter and restricting any movement.

"Mase, come on, I need to take the popcorn and Pringles in for the lads. Then we can cuddle on the sofa?" I suggest, trying to bargain with his drunk self as best as I can. Instead his hands run over my bum, squeezing occasionally and eventually slipping one of his hands into my pants. I playfully swat his hand away in protest.

"Not now, Mase. Come on, let's go and cuddle on the sofa," I repeat and all of a sudden he's giddy, grabbing my hand and pulling me in and back onto the sofa. He lays his head between my legs, smiles up at me with a big, toothy grin and caresses my thighs.

By the end of the night, Mason had gotten so drunk, we had called the game off, instead convincing him to drink the vodka that was really water in an attempt to sober him up. And when it came to seeing off Kai, Timo and Reece, Mason was clinging to my leg like a toddler would.

"I have so many videos for Instagram. He's going to love us tomorrow," Timo laughed. And soon the door was closed, the three cars leaving the driveway, and Mason still sat on the floor clinging onto my leg for dear life. I'm convinced he's cut off the blood circulation if I'm honest.

"Can we go to bed now?" Mason asks yawning, and for the first time tonight, there's no sexual connotations behind it, he's just exceptionally tired. So, with a little help from me to get upstairs and into bed, Mason was asleep in minutes. And with my handsome boyfriend cuddled into my side, there's no place I'd rather be (even if he is way too PDA when drunk).

Taglist: @masnmount @masterclassbaby

#mason mount #mm19 #chelsea fc #england nt #ktbffh #25 days of advent

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wondernimbus · 4 years

Text

a day in hogsmeade — ron weasley

pairing: ron weasley x female!reader

summary: ron weasley may be one awkward lad who can’t hold reader’s gaze for any more than ten seconds, but he is also terribly endearing.

a/n: @glisseoo asked for some ron fluff so i shall deliver

requests are closed for now. please refrain from plagiarizing my work!

"You do realize you've been staring at me for the past minute, right?"

The redhead next to her flushes the same hue as his hair and puffs his cheeks out, gaze skittering away. "I wasn't," he says indignantly, sounding far too defensive, snorting out a laugh as though the mere idea of it is outrageous. “Why would I be.. ha.. staring at you.. ridiculous.."

[Y/N] shakes her head, grinning.

Ron Weasley is one awkward lad; it has only taken her an hour into their date at Hogsmeade to realize this. Part of her had been expecting it ever since he'd come up to her in the Great Hall three days ago, a furiously blushing mess as he blubbered something about asking her out. Looking back on it, despite him having rambled on in front of her for about half a minute, all she can really remember—all she'd vaguely made out at that moment through his constant stammering—were the words "Hogsmeade" and "this Saturday" and "want to—um—go with me".

She’d said yes, of course. Ron Weasley may be awkward, but she can't deny herself the pleasure of going on a date with a very cute—and apparently very funny, according to the rumors—redheaded boy.

And to be honest, his awkwardness is quite endearing. [Y/N] finds herself laughing every five minutes or so whenever she spots him downright staring at her—and whenever she catches him, he always tears his gaze away and pretends to be preoccupied with something else.

Ron does it again now, as [Y/N] surveys the Honeydukes shelves and glances at him out of the corner of her eye. The effect is almost immediate; the moment her eyes land on his, he looks away, hand flying up to randomly pluck a box of—ah, Cockroach Clusters—off of the shelves.

"Interesting choice," muses [Y/N], turning around to properly face him, twiddling with a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans in her hands. "Can’t say I’ve ever seen anyone pick up a box of Cockroach Clusters for their own enjoyment—it almost always has something to do with some sort of practical joke.”

Ron coughs and puts the box back on the shelf. "Was just looking."

[Y/N] purses her lips together to contain the giggles threatening to burst out from behind them. She smiles down at her feet for a moment, lips pinched in a poorly-concealed smile, and then gestures to the row of Cockroach Clusters. "Well," she shifts on her feet, "Have you ever tried them?"

Ron's eyes widen. He practically blanches and says, "Never. My brothers—Fred and George—tricked Percy into eating it once.. don't think he was the same ever since."

[Y/N] laughs at this. Ron looks up, seemingly pleasantly surprised at her reaction, and then laughs quietly under his breath, hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "That does sound like Fred and George," [Y/N] giggles. "Do you take after them?"

"Gah, no." They’ve started walking now, Ron keeping pace next to her in the narrow aisle, their shoulders brushing slightly. "Mum would have a heart attack. She’s got enough on her platter with two troublemakers in the family already."

[Y/N] raises her eyebrows and glances up at him. "You sure you aren't one? I’m in your Potions class, you know. I’ve heard you talk back to Snape plenty of times."

Ron flushes red not for the first time that day. "Can't really help it. He’s a bit of a git." And then he adds, "Sorry."

"Oh, don't be." [Y/N] waves a hand in the air as though to brush it off. "You’re not wrong. Can’t keep his nose out of other people's business—you know he gave my friend detention once for disrupting his class when all he did was sneeze?"

"I remember that. Wasn’t that Ernie?"

"Exactly—Ernie Macmillan. Snape made him clean the trophy room."

Ron makes a sound in the back of his throat like a snort. "Ah. The trophy room. Probably didn't have much to clean, then. I scrubbed the bloody hell out of those trophies four years ago when I got detention."

[Y/N] laughs, nudging him lightly by the elbow. "And you say you're not a troublemaker."

This time, Ron doesn't blush beet red; he actually laughs, and [Y/N] is pleased at how he's managed to ease up a little. Shrugging, he admits, "Suppose I am. Not as bad as the twins, though, as I’m sure you know."

"I and the rest of the castle," [Y/N] affirms, giggling. They’ve reached the cashier by now—and speak of the devil; the Weasley twins are standing in line, though their backs are turned. "Isn’t that them?" asks [Y/N] curiously, looking to Ron for confirmation.

But the sight she's met with is rather comical. All the color seems to have drained from Ron's face; he looks like he's seen a ghost. Gaping a little, eyes wide in what looks like panic, he clears his throat and says, "I think we should go."

But luck is not on Ron's side, because either Fred or George—[Y/N] can't really tell which one—turns around, and at the sight of their younger brother, beams widely and exclaims, "Ron! Fancy seeing you here, dear brother!"

"Fred," says Ron through gritted teeth, and then, once the other twin has turned around, "George."

"Shopping for sweets, aren't we?" grins George.

And then, seemingly at the same time, their gazes land on [Y/N], who stands at Ron's side, amused. An identical flicker of surprise crosses the both of their faces before Fred manages to say, with his eyes darting between the two of them, "Is this what I think it is?"

"Oh, my." George’s mouth has fallen open in an incredulous laugh. "Is ickle-Ronniekins on a date? with [Y/F/N], no less?"

[Y/N] side-eyes Ron to see that he has tensed and is glancing around as though in search for the nearest exit. She scoffs a little at the twins, and, sending them an exasperated look, scolds them by saying, "Oh, leave 'Ronniekins’ alone. He’s been nothing but sweet the entire day."

Their grins grow even wider. "Isn’t that right?" says Fred, tone still teasing. "Well, I must say: We're proud of you, Ronniekins. See you've finally found it in you to ask out the girl you've been obsessing over for two whole years now."

[Y/N]'s eyebrows rise up in intrigue. Ron's cheeks, meanwhile, flush an even darker shade of red. "I'm not—" he begins.

"And since you two are together—"

"We’re not—" Ron tries again.

"—you ought to start teaching him how to play Quidditch, [Y/N], you being a Hufflepuff chaser and all," Fred continues smoothly. Up ahead by the cashier, someone has successfully made their purchase; the twins take a step back, moving up the line without even looking behind them. "Ron’s planning on trying out for the Gryffindor team next year, you see."

"What the—how do you know that?” Ron gapes.

"We’d teach him ourselves," says George, sighing, "But Ron's temper is a little—ah—"

"Fiery?" Fred suggests.

"Let’s just say one time he grabbed my Beater bat in mid-air and whacked me upside the head with it."

An amused laugh leaves [Y/N]'s lips before she can even think about suppressing it. "Is that true, Ron?" she says, tone playfully scolding.

Ron rolls his eyes, grumbling, "That was after they jinxed my broom to let out farting noises every five seconds."

Another laugh. "Interesting," she hums. "Well, thanks for the tip, you two." And then, narrowing her eyes at them good-naturedly, "I’ll be sure to teach your brother Quidditch—with a method that doesn’t involve farting jinxes, of course."

Fred and George beam. They’re up next in line. "I bagsy best man at your wedding," Fred announces, swiveling around to face the cashier.

"No, I do—" argues George, turning around to pile up the sweets in his arms on the counter.

Moments later, the twins are waving their goodbyes, all the while dramatically sobbing into their hands and saying something about their little brother growing up too fast. Fred pats [Y/N] on the shoulder as he passes by, saying in a hushed voice that he'd totally meant for Ron to hear, "Take care of ickle-Ronniekins for us."

And then [Y/N] and Ron are left in the Honeydukes shop, Ron with a flushed face and [Y/N] heavily amused. "That was.." she exhales, laughing as she slides her box of Bertie Botts' Every Flavor Beans across the counter. "Quite something. Are they always like that?"

"Every bloody waking moment," complains Ron, shoulders sagging as he practically deflates against the counter, leaning his hip on it. "Sorry about them, they're.."

"A bit much?”

"That’s an understatement," Ron comments, obviously still spiteful.

"Did you really hit your brother with his own bat?" she glances at him, eyes alight with genuine curiosity as she takes the paper Honeydukes bag from the shopkeeper with a polite "thank you".

Making their way to the exit, Ron nods, his own eyes shining with a kind of fieriness that [Y/N] can't help but laugh at. Passionately, he says, "And I’d do it again."

She starts chortling at this, walking through the door as Ron holds it open for her. “Interesting group of brothers, you all are," she enthuses, smiling at him somewhat sympathetically once her giggles have faded. It’s still snowing outside; she pulls the ends of her scarf tighter around her neck.

[Y/N] purses her lips, falling quiet for a moment as though pondering over something, and then, her lips tugging up at the edges, she looks up at him and asks, "And have you really been obsessing over me for two years?"

Ron's eyes grow wide and they skirt away almost immediately, hand flying up to scratch the back of his neck like some sort of defense mechanism. "I—I don't—" he sputters out," I mean—not obsessed—" and then he pauses, as though to start over. Shoulders deflating, he mutters, eyes still downcast, "I've.. always found you really pretty, is all."

[Y/N] scuffles her feet against the ground. The smile tugging on her lips is far too insistent, so she just lets herself succumb to it and grin down at her shoes before she looks up at him, eyes alight with mirth, and says, "It's fine, Ron. That's really sweet of you." And because she has a feeling he doesn't want to talk about his—erm—feelings anymore, she asks, "Do you want to go into the Three Broomsticks next? Grab some butterbeer, maybe?"

Ron nods. But his eyes don’t fail to catch onto the way she’s rubbing her naked hands together—she’d forgotten her gloves. He doesn’t pause to ask and instead takes off his own immediately, handing them to her without quite meeting her eyes.

Despite the rush of gratitude this tiny act gives her (and the butterflies it lets loose in her stomach), she holds her palms out at Ron in a stopping gesture, hurriedly saying, “Oh, no—keep them, Ron, your hands will get cold—“

“Just take them,” Ron says, still abashed. “Can’t have you freezing to death.”

She pauses, another fond smile tugging on the corners of her lips, and then exhales defeatedly and takes the gloves from him, putting them on. “Well, I doubt I’d freeze to death,” she mutters, “but thank you.” Once the gloves have fitted snugly around her hands, she looks up at Ron, smiling softly, and says, “Ready to go, then?”

“Yeah, let’s—oh, blimey. I forgot. Wait here!”

Before [Y/N] even begins to register his words, Ron has disappeared and is dashing back into Honeydukes, leaving her standing outside, bewildered.

Isn’t he something else—leaving his date behind, alone in the snow. [Y/N] can’t help but laugh, giggling to herself as she clamps her hand over her mouth, earning strange looks from Hogwarts students passing by.

Ron Weasley is awkward and a bit of a mess around her, but [Y/N] finds that it’s quite adorable. And it’s certainly an assurance to know that she’s not the only one venturing into unknown territory—this is her first date, after all. And to be completely honest, she’s enjoying it. Initially she thought she’d be having too hard of a time dealing with Ron’s overbearing awkwardness, but it’s quite the opposite, as she’s grown fond both of it and of him in general.

And that fondness only multiplies when Ron bumbles out of the Honeydukes shop a few minutes later, holding an entire block of wrapped chocolate in his hands, which he hands to her.

“Thought you might like it,” he says, abashed, only managing to hold her gaze for a few moments before his eyes are darting away again. “Would’ve bought it earlier.. got distracted..”

[Y/N] tells herself that the pink blush that is no doubt spreading across her cheeks is most definitely because of the cold and not because of a certain Ron Weasley.

Feeling a thousand things all at once—all of which (so be it) have something to do with Ron—she smiles, all crinkled eyes and dimpled cheeks, and stands on her tip-toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

Flushing, she pulls away. This time she’s not quite meeting his gaze, either, as she says, “Let’s get going, shall we?”

Without waiting for a response, she scurries away, cheeks a blazing shade of red as Ron stands there, hand coming up to brush against the spot on his cheek where she’d kissed him.

#harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter oneshots #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #ron weasley #ron weasley oneshot #ron weasley oneshots #ron weasley imagines #ron weasley imagine #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley fanfic

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dhwty-writes · 4 years

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Congratulations for your follower milestone!!! Prompt if you like: Jaskier's first winter at Kaer Morhen and he finds out about the witcher cuddle pile in front of the fire every evening and is delighted to be invited to join them.

Thank youuu~ You have discovered my largest weakness. Cuddle piles! This was a wonderful prompt. I hope you like it :)

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There were certain things in Jaskier's life that fell prey to exceptionally high standards. His students at Oxenfurt, the wine in Toussaint, or the longevity of the colours of his doublets to name a few examples. But all of them were dwarfed by the looming shadow that was the ruin of Kaer Morhen.

But honestly, who could blame him? Everyone knew he had a soft spot for history and legends, he was a bard after all. And what was Kaer Morhen but the decaying visualisation of said stories? What were witchers but living and breathing ballads and epics?

He vividly remembered his days in Lettenhove when his tutor had first mentioned the ancient castle that was now crumbling beneath the crushing burden of centuries, still defiant even after being sacked nearly a century prior, but rotting. The waves of time lapped at its foundations and soon it would see its end, consumed by the ocean of the ages that eventually wore down everything created by humankind. That evening he had stolen the tome his tutor used to torture him and practically inhaled the section about Kaer Morhen.

And then he had met Geralt — of course he had met Geralt, of all witchers, who suffered from selective muteness whenever he tried to ask him about his childhood. The little information he had been able to glean had barely been enough to conjure up an even more grandiose image than before.

In his dreams Kaer Morhen was an enchanted fortress, frozen in time and ice and snow. It was cloaked in an eerie charm, abrasive and inviting at once. Maybe there were even some vines encapsuling it in a thorny coffin, like in that fairy tale he had been told as a child. In any case it was majestic. Monumental. Mind-blowingly magnificent, even.

He had never experienced a worse disappointment in his entire life.

Alright, maybe he wasn't quite fair to the damp old thing, but after weeks of freezing his balls off while traipsing through the late autumn Kaedwen mountains he really shouldn't be blamed.

Despite Geralt equipping him with a whole new wardrobe fit for a winter up-north both of them had arrived shivering and soggy. Never in his life had he been more thankful for a bed with scratchy furs and lumpy pillows.

Since then a week had passed, but he hadn't quite forgiven the castle of his dreams, the frankly heinous journey it preceded yet. Not only was Geralt's home in the middle of fucking nowhere, it was also icy and drafty and, on a bad day, even snowy.

Jaskier had known, of course, that Kaer Morhen was a ruin. He just hadn't imagined it quite so... ruined, if he was honest. Nor had he imagined himself being tasked with aiding in the never-ending string of repairs that appeared to fill the majority of the winter days for the four remaining witchers of the wolf school and Coen, the last of the griffins. 'Oh, that's a title for the songs,' he thought as he handed Geralt a hammer.

"Are you alright?" the witcher asked from somewhere above him, where he was fixing a broken beam of the truss.

"Who, me?" Jaskier answered and tucked his frigid fingers into his armpits. "Of course, why are you asking?"

There was an alarming creak from above followed by the CLANG CLANG CLANG of a hammer. "Because I can hear your jittering from here. Are you dressed warm enough?"

He scoffed. "Who are you? My mother?"

The hammering stopped. "Well, are you?"

Jaskier couldn't help but smile. "Yes, Geralt. I'm a good lad who's wearing his undershirt, knitted sweater and lined gloves."

"And the woollen hose Vesemir gave you?"

"And the woollen hose Vesemir gave me."

"Good. Let's go back, it's getting late." There was some shuffling that meant Geralt was packing up. Moments later he dropped out of the rafters to land before Jaskier.

"Gracious gods!" he squealed and leapt back. "Geralt, you know I hate it when you do that!"

"I know," he said with a smile and began walking down the hall, "and you know that you mustn't get sick here. There's only so much we can do about pneumonia up here."

"Hmph," he answered and hurried after him, "I'm trying. Which is why you don't see me complaining."

Geralt shot him a condescending look.

"Alright, alright," he amended generously, "I'm only complaining a little. But honestly, why didn't you tell me I'd freeze my buttocks to the benches if I sit down too long?"

He snorted a laugh. After a short pause, he added solemnly: "I thought you wouldn't want to come, then."

"Not want to come? Have you listened to a word I've said since meeting you? I mean, of course you haven't, that's a rhetorical question, darling, but still. I've wanted to come here since... forever! And even if you'd told me, do you seriously think I'd have listened? Don't be ridiculous, I never listen to your warnings."

"True," Geralt agreed. "Still, no one comes to Kaer Morhen on their own volition."

"Do I look like no one to you?"

He squinted at him to size him up. "Hmm."

Jaskier laughed and punched his shoulder. "Arsehole."

"Perhaps I am," Geralt answered with a sly smile.

"Probably you are."

"Maybe."

"Definitely!"

The witcher pouted, which, quite frankly, looked ridiculous. "Don't be mean, Jaskier. You're a guest, after all."

"Ugh," he said and rolled his eyes, "fine."

"Fine," Geralt agreed and opened the door to the Great Hall. It was the only room in the whole fucking keep that was reasonably warm, so Jaskier felt confident to remove at least one layer of clothing while Geralt put his tools away. He was in the process of folding his sweater, when he spotted Lambert and Eskel in the corner, tightly curled up against each other.

"Oh, uh, Geralt?" he whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Your, umm, your brothers. Should we better leave?"

"Bard," Lambert answered, "you know that we can fucking hear you, right?"

"Right!" he answered quickly. "Sorry. Geralt?"

But his witcher was already on his way to the two of them. Once he reached the layer of furs and carpets that blanketed the floor, he stripped his boots and sweater and flopped down unceremoniously on top of them.

Jaskier couldn't help but stare. Not for long of course, no stares could go unnoticed for long when it came to witchers, but still.

Eskel raised his head with an amused smile: "What? You won't join us?"

"So, that's how you keep warm!" the words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "I was already wondering how all of you survived these winters as children."

The three witchers shared an awkward gaze. "Not all of us," Eskel answered.

"Oh," Jaskier said. 'Oh shit,' he thought. "Well, uhmm, I'm leaving, then. Yup, that's me. Leaving this room. Sorry. Again. Or for the first time. Have a nice evening!"

"Jaskier," Geralt growled and lifted his head from Lambert's back, "don't be an arse."

"Oh, uhmm, I'm trying not to be," he laughed nervously. "Well, you know me. I'm always trying. Sometimes I'm even successful. Yay..." He was suddenly feeling much too warm, despite the freezing temperatures.

"Then stop fussing and get the fuck over hear," Lambert grumbled. "I won't listen to Geralt's bitchin' for another evening. Fifteen winters is more than fucking enough."

"Mhmm," Eskel agreed and yawned noisily. "Fifteen years of 'Ohh, Jaskier gives the best hugs' and 'He smells so nice'. Wouldn't shut up about you..."

"Excuse me?" he squeaked undignified. Jaskier awkwardly cleared his throat. "Excuse me?" he tried again.

"Geralt," Lambert hissed and kicked him into his stomach, "I think we broke your bard."

"Hmm?" he answered and turned his head sleepily towards him. He blinked a few times before his gaze cleared and his eyes focused on him. "Fuck," he muttered and slowly at up. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing!" Jaskier assured him too quickly. "It's, umm... it's just that this situation is a tad awkward. For me. You see, I never think before speaking, and sometimes words slip past that were never meant to see the light of day and I'm truly sorry for offending you-"

He was interrupted by bellowing laughter at that. "Oh, he's cute," Eskel said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

"Fuckin' adorable," Lambert agreed. "Look, bard," he said and leaned onto his forearm, "we're witchers. It takes a whole fuckin' lot more to offend us."

"I know, I know, believe me!" He rolled his eyes. "It's one of your most infuriating qualities. And the competition is hard, just so you know. I've-"

"Jaskier," Geralt interrupted him gently. "Just come over here? Please?"

He huffed and uncrossed his arms. "Well, if you ask so nicely." Despite his prevalent discomfort he crossed over to them, sighing when Geralt wrapped his arms around his waist. "That's nice..."

"Mhmm," he agreed and dropped backwards, pulling a shrieking Jaskier with him.

"Geralt," he complained loudly, writhing in his arms, "warn me for fuck's sake! I could've crushed someone."

"Unlikely," Geralt declared and began pulling off his boots, before rearranging the surrounding limbs, until Jaskier was safely snuggled between the three witchers. For the first time since he had set foot into the Kaedwen mountains, he was finally warm again. Slowly, he felt himself drifting off to sleep.

It was almost too easy with three warm bodies curled around him, all of them intently listening to his breath evening out. He was almost asleep when they finally dared to speak up: "Fuck," Lambert whispered and cuddled closer, "he does give great hugs."

He couldn't help but smile and tighten his grip on his waist a bit.

"Yeah," Eskel agreed, "don't think I'll ever get up again."

"Don't think I'll give him back," Lambert said. Geralt growled and he laughed quietly. "What do you say, bard? Come with me in spring?"

Jaskier smiled and turned around to hug Geralt instead. "Not a fucking chance."

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#my writing #the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #eskel #lambert #vesemir #kaer morhen #kaer morons #prompt fill #cuddle piles! this was a great prompt!#elliestormfound #look i've got an ask

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