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nightswatchdisbandmentera · 5 days

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Something rubbed against his leg beneath the table. Jon saw red eyes staring up at him. “Hungry again?” he asked. There was still half a honeyed chicken in the center of the table. Jon reached out to tear off a leg, then had a better idea. He knifed the bird whole and let the carcass slide to the floor between his legs. Ghost ripped into it in savage silence. His brothers and sisters had not been permitted to bring their wolves to the banquet, but there were more curs than Jon could count at this end of the hall, and no one had said a word about his pup. He told himself he was fortunate in that too. His eyes stung. Jon rubbed at them savagely, cursing the smoke. He swallowed another gulp of wine and watched his direwolf devour the chicken. Dogs moved between the tables, trailing after the serving girls. One of them, a black mongrel bitch with long yellow eyes, caught a scent of the chicken. She stopped and edged under the bench to get a share. Jon watched the confrontation. The bitch growled low in her throat and moved closer. Ghost looked up, silent, and fixed the dog with those hot red eyes. The bitch snapped an angry challenge. She was three times the size of the direwolf pup. Ghost did not move. He stood over his prize and opened his mouth, baring his fangs. The bitch tensed, barked again, then thought better of this fight. She turned and slunk away, with one last defiant snap to save her pride. Ghost went back to his meal. Jon grinned and reached under the table to ruffle the shaggy white fur. The direwolf looked up at him, nipped gently at his hand, then went back to eating.

Jon I, AGOT

It's interesting that GRRM would dedicate several paragraphs to a seemingly unimportant exchange between a boy, his wolf, and an unfriendly third party. But there's just something about this passage that has continued to nag at me for years since I first read it because, considering how heavy handed GRRM was with the foreshadowing in AGOT, this feels important.

Jon is sitting at table full of squires - aka would be knights. We don't really know who they are or what families they belong to, but it's safe to assume that they come from a certain level of privilege; this is considering the fact that it cannot be financially easy to be a squire. And these boys already have a slew of tales detailing all their previous knightly exploits regarding "battle and bedding and the hunt" which suggests that they have some capital. So you have boys who will soon be men. And they will, presumably, become men of some power.

These lads eat their fill of the chicken until only half remains, which Jon then gives to Ghost. The direwolf's name is not so important here but what he represents is. Throughout the series, we're told that Ghost is reminiscent of the weirwood trees (because of his red eyes and white fur). He's stated to be of and from the Old Gods and since he's a personification of the weirwoods, he might as well be one of them. It's almost as if Jon is presenting whatever is left on the table to the Old Gods (Ghost). He lets them devour his offerings while he silently watches. And the motif of watching is so interesting here because it's kind of like Jon takes on a stewardship role - to watch over land/people/etc. He oversees Ghost eating the chicken, so he's overseeing whatever has been given to the Old Gods. This is not new imagery to his arc. As a brother of the Night's Watch and eventually its leader, we have several instances where he leads people to adopting the Old Gods in some fashion. In ADWD, several recruits swear their vows to the Old Gods while he watches on as their Lord Commander. The Old Gods are also primarily of the North and we're told that Jon has more of the north in him than his brothers; interesting that this also includes Bran. So perhaps whatever is being offered to the Old Gods relates to the North.

We must also note that Jon initially thinks to give only a small portion, a leg, before pivoting and providing the entire thing. It feels to me a bit like the process of carving up a kingdom or something similar. The lords (represented by the squires) take what they want and leave aside what they don't; or perhaps they have eaten to their fill and can take no more. Then when his time comes, Jon first considers a small piece of land/group of people before eventually absorbing all of whatever is left behind. The concept of carving up a kingdom rings harder considering that we have several callbacks to the ideals of kingship in this chapter. Robert, Jaime, Tyrion, and even Mance though we don't know it yet, all play into this. And then there's the aspect of Jon letting the chicken slip between his legs which evokes birth/fatherhood, a very curious choice when GRRM could've just had Jon place the chicken on the floor. So land/people are carved up and Jon then uses whatever is left to birth his own type of kingdom. And this kingdom is one for the Old Gods.

This also touches on something that has been quite prevalent throughout Jon's arc. It's the concept of accepting the "others" or "those left over" who live apart from the accepted social norms. Arya (a tomboy), Sam (a gender non-confirming boy), the Night's Watch (criminals, extra sons, and men who have no future left or place to go), and even the wildlings are all examples of this. And Jon takes on a leadership/paternal role to every single one of them. He looks after them as a leader would/should. Sometimes, in the case of Arya and the wildlings, he's equated to a king. He's a steward/shepherd/king. There's messianic undertones to this:

Come unto me, all you who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matthew 11:28-30).

If you're familiar with Judeo-Christian tradition, you'll know that Jesus is often personified as one who spent the majority his time among the outcasts. The idea is that he came to save them too and that anew kingdom (or new earth depending on your translation) would spring up after the end of the world where he would forever rule as king; which presents the idea of a final king after the earthly ones are done away with. Now GRRM isn't so heavy handed with Christian allusions as other authors out there, but he does have a Catholic background and Jon is so overtly a Jesus figure. And in Revelation, Jesus is king and god at the very end....

One last thing: the mention of the mongrel who challenges Jon has always been rather interesting but confusing to me. A mongrel doesn't really relate to one specific type of dog. But it's interesting that Jon notes several roaming about where he is. They follow the serving girls who carry the food to be offered. Mongrels are used to describe antagonist/villainous groups in ASOIAF. Sometimes, they're used to describe slavers in Essos. But what's interesting is that most of the time, they're used to describe Euron's Ironborn especially in Victorian's POV. So I don't think the mongrel who challenges Ghost is a supernatural threat of death (i.e., the Others) but rather a human one. They represent those who are called to the scene once the lords have finished playing their games. It almost feels like a feast for (carrion) crows....

But it doesn't really matter because this mongrel isn't much of a challenge for Ghost. Though the mongrel is much larger, the direwolf is able to fend her off very effortlessly. Given that "mongrel" is used to describe Ironborn raiders, could this exchange between Ghost and the mongrel point to reavers or sea raiders who rise and fail challenge Jon kingdom? There is a historical King Jon Stark who did this....

When sea raiders landed in the east, Jon drove them out and built a castle, the Wolf's Den, at the mouth of the White Knife, so as to be able to defend the mouth of the river.[1][2] His son, Rickard, followed him on the throne and annexed the Neck to the north.

ref.

So this might shed some light not only on Jon's already published arc, but also on what we can expect in the future. We have some foreshadowing through Jon's ADWD dream that he will not only rise with the dawn (thereby live through the Long Night), but will be in a position to lead people (wildings in that chapter) to a new peace after a hard fought war. Also remember that the wildlings, rather enthusiastically, swear oaths to him as if swearing oaths to their king. In this instance, the supernatural (a dream of the war for the dawn) is followed by the natural/human. So perhaps this particular passage (and Jon's dream) can be used to predict that Jon comes out on top, and quite effortlessly too, as a leader. And he becomes a leader who rules by association with the Old Gods; or rules a kingdom for them.

To end, I think it's of note that this passage immediately precedes Jon's conversation with Benjen where he voices his desire to go out on his own - the hero's call to action. This is the adventure that's going to kickstart his growth as a man, warrior and most importantly, a leader. So it looks like before we even began, GRRM telegraphed how it would all end in just three short paragraphs.

#jon snow #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #ghost the direwolf #some random extra thoughts:#the aspect of fatherhood is closely tied to kingship as kings are often regarded to be the fathers of their nations #so we might see a parallel where jon-like dany-doesn't have children of his own physical body #but rather rules a kingdom as its symbolic father #think of how odin-a mythical parallel for jon-is called the all father because he is father to all men/lands #also it's interesting to me how kingship is a theme but it's almost like the actual theme is that of kings coming of going #but jon remaining and prevailing above all #we have robert who is a disappointing/bad king and his rule doesn't last very long and neither will his dynasty #jaime looks like a king and even if grrm didn't go through with his original ideas he was never meant to rule for long #in the new story jaime is symbolic of rhaegar a would be king whose time comes and goes leaving jon to pick up the pieces #then tyrion who stands “as tall as a king” but not quite! he still is not as tall as jon and tyrion also says in a later chapter #that soon he'll be even shorter than ghost + tyrion wasn't hand for long #mance who is hidden also has his time as king but it's very short lived and jon later absorbs his kingdom to make his own #so we have the wolf devouring the “left behinds” in a way but the interesting thing is this happens in reverse doesn't it #might Jon's new kingdom not only be made of remnants of the nw and wildlings but also have those left behind from the rest of the 7k?#it's possible since jojen tells us that once night comes all cloaks become black 🙂#so yeah this is all just more jon endgame king of winter/a new north propaganda lmaoooo

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snekberry · 1 year

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Please infodump anything you've thought about for the au where elias takes over jon you cannot give me brainrot like that and then not say anything else

HI ALRIGHT <333

So the whole premise of the AU is that when Elias learned that Jon was planning to blind himself and run away with Martin, he decided to act before that could happen by transferring his eyes into Jon and taking over his body.

Random snippets of information about the AU that i daydreamed about :

First of all, Jon is still alive. Since Elias didn't do any irreversible damage to Jon's eyes when he body hopped, Jon is still connected to the Eye, and it refuses to let him die. However, he's stuck in a state of dreaming, similar to what happened after season 3. He's back to watching live statement givers in their dreams.

Jon subconsciously contacts the Web in his dreams. He ends up making a deal with the Web to gain some control over tape recorders so that he can communicate through them as a disembodied voice in exchange for him somehow feeding the Web.

Elias probably notices the spiders that occasionally approach him, but he interprets this as the Web giving him its blessing.

Elias possesses Jon sometime between MAG 154 (where Jon asked Martin to run away with him) and MAG 158 (Panopticon episode). Martin, having isolated himself from the others, doesn't know about what happened to Jon until MAG 158.

With the Web's help, Jon can talk through tape recorders now, but he initially has a hard time controlling this power. When he tries to contact Martin, his voice comes out as a sudden loud garbled noise that startles Martin from time to time.

Peter takes Martin to the Panopticon and tells him that he needs to kill Jonah Magnus. When Martin asks where Jonah's eyes are, this is when "Jon" shows up and says "Exactly where they’ve always been, Martin. Watching over my Institute."

Martin is baffled at first by Jon's surprise appearance, but as soon as he takes a good look at him, he immediately realizes that there is something deeply wrong with his eyes. Peter can recognize quite quickly that those are Jonah's eyes in Jon's body (Peter is... intimately familiar with his eyes LMAO)

Martin gets angry because if Jon is dead, then everything that he did to keep him safe was for nothing. He makes a move to kill Jonah Magnus, but Elias swiftly informs him that Jon is still alive, and he dies, Jon dies along with him.

Martin does not kill Jonah Magnus. Peter loses the bet, becomes enraged, and throws Martin into the Lonely as per the conditions of his bet with Elias. Even though Elias originally wanted Peter to do this to orchestrate a mark for Jon, he still lets Peter do it anyways since he no longer has any use for Martin.

There are tape recorders in the Lonely. Jon suddenly Knows that Martin is in danger, and he reaches out to him. This time, Jon manages to talk to Martin through the tape recorders. He explains to Martin about what Elias had done to him, and he guides Martin out of the Lonely with a disembodied voice. Martin's determination to save Jon is enough to anchor him and bring him back to the real world.

Yeah that's all I thought of so far

#ask #tma #jonah possesses jon au #tma spoilers

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the-magpie-archives · 1 year

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Martin's always a carer, a protector, a helper... Someone who's willing to jump in and do what's needed, someone that watches out and tries to predict what's going to happen so he can help, so he can stop things from going wrong.

I don't need to tell you that this is probably a product of his mother's behaviour; if he kept everything in check then what reason would she have to hate him anymore? It never worked, of course, but that's besides the point.

We see it too in early seasons. Anyone would be eager to impress their boss (particularly if they're in love with them), but Martin's eagerness is always filled with such care, such desperation to please. Just because a trait came from a bad place, does not necessarily mean it is a bad thing.

Along with this, his Web-like desire to keep things under control makes him irreplaceable, a valuable person to have around, because he's entirely unable to conceive that he could be valuable solely as himself. He's so devoted to others that committing himself to the lonely to save them was an obvious choice, which says more on the matter than I ever could.

These traits all shine through particularly visibly when things are out of control, like during Daisy's appearance in season 5. From the beginning of the situation it's clearly not going how it's supposed to, and Martin finds himself alone faced by a monster that he can do nothing about.

Without Martin there, there's a chance that Basira and Jon could've missed Daisy altogether, so as usual he's responsible for holding things in place, but as the situation degrades so does his handle on it. Of course his kindness makes it hard to deal with, makes him flinch at the wrong moment-what's another thing to blame himself for?

But when Daisy attacks Jon, that's when things really fall apart. Seeing his partner at risk and in pain after the comfort of his resistance to injury? Attacked not only by a beast, but one that was a friend at some point, if she ever really was... Perhaps this was what was in front of him the whole time but he never could bring himself to look hard enough.

Jon trying to sacrifice himself, Basira trying to take action, Daisy uncontrollable; all Martin has in him is to yell! To scramble for control and some semblance of survivability. And there's no relief at Jon's release, the mess carries on.

The injury is bad. The type of wound that makes you feel the blood drain from your face, that makes you want to burst into tears, but no, there's no time for that. Feeling emotions is not as important as regaining composure. But God, there's barely enough time to even help Jon, Basira needs guidance too, if she can't go through with this who knows what will happen?

Basira and Jon are living through the experience whilst Martin tries to control it, but some things cannot be controlled and there's simply no use trying to fight against the tide. Nothing could be done to change the outcome, but if Martin doesn't try then of course it's his fault.

Whatever he did, things would end the way they did. You can hear him reaching out though, desperately trying to keep the group tied together; being bound by the archives was awful but at least the group was kept together to some extent.

But here there's nothing he can do. Their paths have parted, things play out the way they always would, and they're sent marching towards their awful fate.

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pastanest · 1 year

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A/N: shamelessly inspired by the legend that is Amanda Bynes cinematic masterpiece which, if you have not seen it, is too iconic for words and also @januaryembrs imagine Making Of A Man, so please read that one bc it is INCREDIBLE and is on my Jon Snow fic recs list for VERY good reason!!

warning: light reference to SA (reader does what we all wish we could’ve done tho fr and doesnt actually get SA’d, it’s just implied what could’ve happened). also flashing tiddies as god (Amanda Bynes) intended x

Jon Snow x she/her!reader

part one can be found here

She’s The Man - Part Two

It had become commonplace by then, for you to wait at the top of the highest hill in town, as early as you could, for any sign of the Stark banner approaching. If they were going to arrive that day, you knew you would see them at first light, because Lord Eddard Stark often arrived with tired eyes while his two sons would be reliably bouncing with excitement, having woken him in the earliest hours they could to begin their journey.

More often than not, you would stay up there from dawn until your mother called you in for breakfast. You did not expect to see them most days, but you could not withhold your excitement at the possibility of a direwolf waving at you from afar, letting you know that your favourite person in the whole world was on his way.

That morning was one of the rare and beautiful dawns on which you did see your favorite sigil approaching in the distance, and the moment you did, you were sprinting back home as fast as your little legs would carry you, feeling like you were moving at a pace not so far from flying, the wind in your hair only reinforcing that childish dream. Of course, you were shouting at the top of your lungs all the way down the hill.

“DARIUS, DARIUS, DARIUS!” Your yelling did not cease even once you were at his bedside and violently shaking him into a delirious consciousness.

“What is i- Oh, by the GODS (Y/N), let me REST!” He would shout back, burying his face under his pillow.

“NO! JON SNOW AND THE STARKS ARE HERE! COME ON, COME ON, COME ONNN!” You would squeal, running around the room in an excited daze while your brother continued to groan in annoyance.

Before long, your brother would have given in and dragged himself out of bed, stumbling after you as you ran back out into the street and collected yourself. Every single time the Starks rode into town, without fail, you would find a place to situate yourself on their path and appear as though you had casually been there, completely by coincidence and not at all by careful planning. Meanwhile, your poor brother would still be yawning and wiping his eyes, leaning against anything he could find nearby just to keep himself standing upright. That particular occasion, you had hidden around the side of a house that did not belong to your family and you were peering round the corner to keep an eye on the progress of the wolves as they descended. Your brother, on the other hand, was round the same corner but leaning against the wall, making no effort to witness the arrival of his childhood friends because the little energy he had at the time was focussed on being forced awake and trying to stay that way. There was not a power strong enough to wipe the smile from your face when you saw the dark curls of Jon Snow bobbing up and down atop his horse, turning from side to side as he searched for you.

And like a rehearsed scene from a play, you would step out and wave at him, immediately receiving the beaming smile he saved just for you, while his father and brother watched on with pleasant smiles, overjoyed to see the Snow of the family greeted with such obvious excitement.

“Lord Jon! To what do I owe the pleasure this time?”

In the month that has passed beyond the wall, Jon has asked you about your sister less and less, and you cannot decide whether that is a blessing or a curse. On the one hand, not having to talk about yourself in third person or live with the yearning expression in his eyes as he spoke of you without realizing you were right in front of him, was definitely a blessing. On the other hand, the less he mentioned you, logic would suggest that equated to him thinking of you less, and you could not decipher what that meant. You wondered if it alluded to him moving on, trying to forget about the feelings that he was certain he would never be able to act on, for his own good. That, you understood. After all, he has taken an oath; one that you have since taken, too. Perhaps he simply does not wish to entertain such fantasies, you think. But there have been one too many moments with him that have made that difficult for you to believe.

The conversations you have each and every night, whether it be while on watch together or in the quarters you share, are spent smiling and laughing so much that your faces ache, getting to know each other on levels unknown to anybody else. Every time you see each other after being apart for mere minutes is enough to have you grinning at each other, like you did on the day you arrived. The things you have talked about, from feelings to dreams and your deepest, darkest fears, are not things that are often shared between men, from what you know of your time living amongst them as one. But, more than that, there have been specific instances that have made you question particular things about the man you have grown up believing you know better than you know yourself.

For example, three weeks ago, when Ser Alliser had been overseeing a training session and deliberately paired you off with a man far bigger, far stronger and far more experienced in fighting than you were. Jon had tried his best to reassure you in the skill you had gained, but he could see the fear in your eyes, and he knew deep down that you were not skilled enough to take on someone so much bigger than you in close combat. He had also been paired off with someone else in being separated from you, but he knocked that man down in a matter of seconds and held his sword to the poor man’s face, forcing him to yield so that Jon could watch over you. While you dodged as best as you could, and were far more nimble than your opponent due to the drastic size difference, you could not avoid the sly punch to your stomach that sent you hurtling onto the icy ground.

“WHAT IN THE SEVEN HELLS WAS THAT?!” Jon’s voice was like thunder as he marched over to you, lifting you to your feet and moving you to stand behind him as you clutched at your stomach.

The laugh that Ser Alliser responded with told the two of you that he had instructed the larger man to knock you down whatever the cost, regardless of how dishonorable the tactic.

“Try that again and you won't have hands to land another punch, brother.” Jon threatened the larger man, who could only nod in response, unable to hide the intimidation he felt at being threatened by the one man he knew could knock him down without breaking a sweat.

With that, Jon led you back to the quarters you shared and sat you down on his bed - something you definitely did not fail to acknowledge - crouching down in front of you to look up at you with sorrowful, and still furious, eyes.

“I am so sorry, are you alright?” His voice was so much softer than it had been mere moments ago, and the care with which he spoke to you was enough to make your face feel hot all of a sudden as it nodded at him.

In truth, you had long forgotten about the pain in your stomach that was certainly severe enough to leave a very large bruise, but you would be silly to deny yourself the luxury of Jon Snow doting on you, just a little.

“Anyone tries something like that with you again, I’ll kill them where they stand. And if I’m not there to see it, you come and find me, and they’ll wish they’d never so much as given you a funny look. Understood?” He asked, words firm and promise clear, making the butterflies in your stomach frantic against your bruised skin.

“Understood. Thank you, Jon.” You did not have the capacity to say anymore, all other words lost to you in that moment. It took you several days to recover from the protective oath he swore to you while you sat on his bed that day, nevermind the actual guttural punch.

And then, there was an evening two weeks ago, when Lord Commander Mormont insisted you worked with Sam in the library instead of acting as Jon Snow’s shadow on watch for the 8th time in a row - which was a fair comment, if a little harsh. What you thought would be a peaceful evening spent reading books with a friend, quickly turned into a confessional of some description.

“I am sorry that you’ve been lumped with me tonight, I know you’d rather be…elsewhere.” Sam said gently, his words without prejudice, but his tone hinting that he knew more than he was saying as he took his pile of books to the table and sat down.

From your place at the same table, sat opposite him with just one measly book in your hands, you frowned at him. “Oh, Sam, I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel that I don't want to spend time with you, that’s not true at all! I haven’t spent a lot of time in here, it’ll be a nice change of scene and with lovely company.” You smiled at him, and he returned it, but shook his head.

“No, no, sorry, that is not what I meant. I know that you enjoy my company, as you do Ed and Pyp’s, but…you do not enjoy Jon’s company in the same way.” He tried to hint a little more obviously, and when his words sunk in, your eyes widened. At once, Sam reached over the table to hold your shoulders. “Please, do not panic, I have no judgement to pass and will not tell him!” He was quick to reassure you, allowing you to breathe again as he sat back down in his chair. “I only meant to let you know that I think it is very sweet. We all do, in fact.”

Panic began to set in again. “When you say ‘all’...?”

Sam chuckled. “I mean Ed, Pyp and myself; Jon is completely oblivious, or tries very hard to pretend that he is.”

You sighed in defeat. “So, I have made it that obvious, have I?”

Sam shook his head, smiling knowingly. “No, not just you.”

Immediately, you frowned. “What do you mean, Sam?”

At that, he shook his head, giggling mischievously. “I will say no more about it, it is not for me to say!”

And unfortunately, no matter how much you begged him for the rest of the evening, Samwell Tarly refused to budge, not wanting to interfere on the way in which the events would naturally play out between two of his dear friends, because it was quite honestly the best and only entertainment that the wall had provided thus far.

And then, there was a night last week, when you and Jon were not assigned any tasks and were free to sleep for the night, so retired to your shared quarters with Ghost, who immediately jumped on your bed and sat bolt upright, waiting for you to take your sliver of the bed and allowing him to take the rest. By the time you and Jon had settled in your separate beds in the routinely fashion that came natural to you, you were both prepared for a conversation that would have you each falling asleep with smiles on your faces, as per usual. Except, you could never have anticipated the way in which Jon Snow would begin that conversation, or the topic he was seemingly keen to discuss.

“Have you ever…been with anyone?”

Your eyes widened and you were relieved, as you often were, that Jon could not see your flustered expression in the dark. The question sent such a shockwave through you that the hand combing through Ghost’s fur halted suddenly, causing him to huff until you composed yourself and continued.

“Had sex, you mean?”

Jon cleared his throat awkwardly, apparently equally as bashful. “Well, yes, but not just that.”

The depth to his question did not add further explanation to your answer, and you were more than happy to be brutally honest. “No, on both counts. The person I wanted was unattainable, and will continue to be.”

Jon thought about this for a moment before he spoke up again. “Each time we’ve spoken about those we’ve had feelings for, you’ve only ever referred to a person, not a girl.”

You swallowed nervously. “Yes…”

Jon was almost as quick to reassure you as Sam had been. “I swear, I hold no judgement if you have no interest in girls, and I will not speak of it again if you do not wish me to. I was just curious, is all.”

You trusted Jon to keep your ‘secret’, as layered as it was, but his last words caught you out. “What is it you were curious about?”

Apparently, Jon had not expected you to pick up on his choice of words, as he struggled to form a response. “I…you are the only man that I know of who does not like girls, so I wondered how you found that out, I suppose.”

You smiled, his genuine curiosity endearing. “I think I’ve always known, I was never interested in girls, but there was one boy- or, man, I suppose I should say now, that made me realize what those feelings are, and who I felt them for.”

Jon was clinging to your every word, having never heard information on this topic or this type of feeling before. While he wanted to believe it was the same as feelings for girls, only not for them, in such an unaccepting social environment as Westeros, it was difficult for him to process such a concept. That very innocence led to him asking his next question.

“What do those feelings feel like, for you, as a man, about another man?”

While you could not accurately speak on the experience from a man’s perspective, in truth, you knew enough from what your brother had told you to confirm that those feelings are the same regardless of the gender or orientation, it is merely a lack of knowledge and acceptance that leads to those feelings being less understood, and more secretive. In a way, living as a man had given you some insight on the life your brother has actually led, with his own secret.

“I gather it is much the same as you must feel for girls. When around him, I feel a joy that I can’t describe, one that I wouldn’t know without having met him. He makes me smile until my face aches, makes me feel safe and ridiculously bashful, and to be near him is to know of nothing and nobody else in the world. He was, and is, everything to me. I doubt I’ll ever feel that way for anybody except for him; my heart has been his for too long.” You confessed solemnly.

Time seemed to slow down as you awaited Jon’s response. You are certain it took almost a minute for his voice to cut through the dark.

“I’m sorry…that you feel that way, for someone that you can’t be with.” He sounded disheartened, too, and you logically assumed it was due to the feelings he had for you, that he felt he could not act on.

The conversation faded into quiet goodnights after that, both of your minds spinning with thoughts that you could not tell the other, making for restless slumbers for each of you.

Since that night, Jon has been ever so slightly distant with you. Not enough to cause any real concern, he is still nearby at all times, ensuring your safety, but he has been increasingly awkward around you, as though he’s lost the ability to speak to you as he would previously. The change in him has been apparent enough for the rest of the group to notice, with Sam, Ed and Pyp each taking turns to comfort you when they have seen how worried you have been about him, concerned that you have done something to upset him, and all of them assuring you that you couldn’t possibly, but in truth, none of them knew what he was thinking, either. Jon Snow was a man prone to the odd brood, you knew that; he was the king of sulking even when you were children, but he had never been able to resist you, even in the midst of his worst sulking episodes. Except, now, he doesn’t know that you are you, meaning it is not possible for you to get through to him.

Tonight, events have transcended beyond your ability to cope with them. Jon missed supper, and when you questioned Sam - who had a very obviously nervous expression from the moment he sat down - he broke the news, as gently as he could, that Jon had gone on watch without you. Now, there have been occasions where Jon has done this because you had been asked to do something elsewhere, but this is the first time that he has done this by choice, because he knows that neither of you were scheduled to be on watch tonight. Clearly, something is on his mind, and it is something that has led to him outright avoid you, which simply cannot continue, because you will most definitely die of heartbreak in the most dramatic way you can think of.

Naturally, you were not able to eat after Sam told you the news, and instead retired to your quarters for the night, having nothing better to do than pace the room and tell Ghost that you are alright every few minutes and he continues to whine in response because he can sense that you are the polar opposite. On your way back to this room, you stole an oil lamp, too panicked to care about the potential punishment because you need to see Jon’s face when he eventually comes to rest after being on watch; you need an explanation, and you need to read his face when you are receiving it, to understand exactly what has happened between you.

Fortunately for you, you are pacing for no more than an hour - or, at least, that is your best guess - before there is a gentle knock on the door.

“Come in.” Despite only speaking two words, your voice breaks in your overwhelmed state.

The door opens, and Jon steps into the room you share, but avoids your eyes, and his stance is one of a man uncomfortable to be standing where he is.

“Sam said you were on watch.” You state, no question in your words, but an underlying question of what he’s doing here, based on what you know to be true.

Jon nods. “Sam said you didn’t eat anything at supper.”

You blink rapidly. “You have been subtly distancing yourself from me for the past week, until tonight, when you spontaneously volunteer for an extra shift on watch to avoid me completely, but when Sam tells you that I skipped dinner, you suddenly want to see me?”

Jon winces at your words, having never intended to cause you harm in his actions. In fact, it was quite the opposite. “I’m sorry, I-”

You shake your head, interrupting him. “Please, don’t apologize until you’ve explained. I already know I’ll forgive you, but I need to know what exactly I’m forgiving you for.”

Sensing that this is going to be a long conversation, Ghost sighs and curls up on your bed. Jon, on the other hand, is looking at you in that same way again, replaying your words over and over in his mind, because you care for him so much that you already know you’ll forgive him, regardless of his explanation for his actions and how they have hurt you.

“I have dealt with my feelings awfully, and for that, I must apologize. I just needed time to…understand myself, I suppose. And when I understood, I knew I had to force some distance between us in an effort to undo what was already done, because it is fruitless and will only cause more pain for myself, but in doing so I have caused the worst possible thing: I have hurt you.” Jon shakes his head, ashamed of himself. “You have done nothing to deserve this, so please do not blame yourself, or think I am upset with you, because that could not be further from the truth.”

Feeling relief flood through you and a sense of stability returning to the bond between you, you take a few steps closer to Jon, looking up at him with a soft smile.

“You can tell me anything, but if you are not ready to, then you can take as long as you need. Now that I know you’re not upset with me, I can wait, I promise.”

Jon groans in frustration, lifting his gaze to the ceiling and wiping his face with his hands. “See, that’s exactly what it is.”

You frown. “What is?”

Jon walks away from you then, beginning to pace the room as you had been, but for a very different reason. “You! The kindness you’ve shown me, the sincerity with which you say things, the way you treat me and the way I feel around you - I never thought I would feel these things for anyone else, and that makes it even worse, because I don't want you to think it’s you reminding me of her that’s made me feel this way, but it’s the traits I adored in her that I’ve come to adore in you. And I’ve never felt such a way for a man, but I’ve come to realize that I wouldn’t care if you were a man or a woman or anything else, because what matters to me is who you are. And I love who you are.” He stops pacing, staring into your soul from across the room, reading the shock in your eyes and sighing. “But you have already told me, time and time again, that your heart is with another, and there is nothing I can do. I wouldn’t want to, as I’m sure they are better for you and will treat you the way you deserve.”

“Jon-” You try to interject, but the words are falling from his lips now.

“I know you probably won't see him again, whoever it is, but even loving him from afar is better, he’ll never let you down like I will, like I already have.” His gaze has dropped to the floor, forlorn.

“Jon-” You attempt to cut him off a second time, but he still can't stop himself.

“And I am sorry, for all of it, for my feelings, how I’ve handled them, and how they’ve ruined every moment we’ve had since you arrived.”

“Jon, Gods above, please stop talking!” You plead, a little louder this time, and Jon finally closes his mouth. Taking a deep breath, you laugh lightheartedly, shaking your head in disbelief. “I cannot believe this, truly, but it is no longer fair for me to keep this a secret.”

Jon frowns and meets your eyes, having immediately discarded all thoughts of his own feelings and replaced his concerns with ones for you, the secret you’ve been keeping and if it means something is wrong. “What secret?”

You run your hands through your hair, trying your best to flatten it and make yourself more familiar to him. “Jon…I’m not Darius, I’m (Y/N).”

Something flickers in his eyes then, only for half a second, before his frown intensifies and he shakes his head. “Please, do not joke about such things, not now.”

You sigh. “I’m telling you the truth! And I think, honestly, some part of you already knew, because you haven't called me by my brother’s name once since the day I arrived, you know that name doesn't fit me, because it isn't mine.”

His expression falters, but he is too stubborn to believe you. “Are you mocking me?”

You roll your eyes, determining there is no other way. “Right, that does it!”

With that, you lift your shirt and undershirt, flashing Jon for no more than a second and sending the poor man into a state of shock, before you cover yourself back up. The impact of such a sight sends Jon Snow stumbling backwards until he’s against a wall, with an expression reminiscent of seeing a ghost.

“Seven hells!” He whispers, blinking rapidly as the image replays in his mind, cursing him and blessing him simultaneously.

Unable to stop yourself, you giggle at his dramatics. “It was only a pair of breasts, Jon, please.”

He clears his throat, pulling himself back up, but his palms stay pressed against the wall, acting as a safety net. “Yes, but they were your-”

Stopping himself, the realization dawns on him. Jon Snow just saw your naked chest, meaning you are standing in front of him, and it is you that has been here, sharing watch duty, meals, and a room with him everyday for the past month.

“(Y/N)...” He whispers your name so softly, as though afraid that speaking your name will reveal your true identity as a mirage that will disappear before his very eyes.

Taking one hesitant step towards you, Jon’s palms push him away from the wall, moving so slowly that you wonder if he’ll ever reach you, and then his hand takes ahold of yours. Despite having been shoulder to shoulder countless times, this is the most intimate you have been since the hug that he greeted you with when you arrived, and the contact sends goosebumps across your entire body. Jon Snow’s fingers intertwine with yours, and you smile, eyes glazing over with an adoration that you’ve fought and failed to hide for a month. Bringing your hand up to his face, he presses your hand against his stubbled cheek and sighs deeply, closing his eyes, like he can finally believe that you really are right here, and you aren’t going to vanish into thin air.

“I didn’t lie, y’know, not really.” Your voice is barely there, even in the silence.

Opening his eyes, Jon stares into yours with an unspoken question to elaborate.

“While I tried my best to speak from my brother’s perspective, everything I told you about how I felt was true.” You explain, and if possible, Jon’s expression melts just a little more.

“So, the man who has your heart?” He questions, still a note of nervousness in his words, despite the playful smile on his face.

“Is still clueless that he has it, because I’m having to spell it out to him!” You tease, bringing a hearty laugh from Jon. “My reason for being here rings true, too. I only left out the detail that I snuck onto the cart before my brother could when they came for him, leaving a letter to him to explain; because I had committed the ‘crime’, I felt it was only fair I served the sentence.” You clarify the part of your story that you had missed, thinking nothing of it.

But when Jon’s eyes widen and he drops your hand, you realize that he had completely forgotten where the two of you are standing, and more importantly, where you are.

“Gods, (Y/N), you can't be here! Do you know what some of these men would try to do to you if they found out?!” He starts pacing again, but you’re quick to jump in his path and stop him, placing a hand on his clothed chest.

“I know all too well what those men would try to do, defending myself from such acts is what brought me here.” You remind him, and his firm expression falls, abruptly fixing itself into a frown that is not at all directed at you.

Without thinking, he takes ahold of your face. “I am so sorry I wasn’t there before, but I will never let anyone close enough to harm you ever again, I swear it, by the old Gods and the new.”

At that, you can't help smiling up at him, holding onto his wrists to keep his hands against your face. “I know, and I doubt anyone here will try anything that could bring the wrath of my Jon Snow.”

Your words bring a familiar softness back to him, and he chuckles. “Yours, am I?”

“Of course!” You beam up at him.

The two of you laugh then, at the ridiculousness of it all, the coincidences that have led you to this very moment, with faces mere centimeters apart, hot breath on each other’s faces, gazes darting between each other’s eyes and lips, both asking and answering the same unspoken question. And then, Jon Snow’s lips fall onto yours, and it is better than he has been imagining it could have been since he was a boy. A kiss with you is what shows him the true meaning of being a man, in love with what he thought was another man, but was, in truth, the heart he’d always yearned for, in a disguise that he could not see through with his eyes, but his heart could. Running your fingers through his curls, you sigh against his lips, and Jon wraps his arms around the waist he had somehow not noticed for the past month, fully intending to make up for that lost appreciation henceforth. The butterflies in your stomach spiral until they cannot be contained, and they are flying around the two of you in a magical blur of color, of blissful peace and exhilaration all at once; the most intense feelings you’ve ever known, exchanged and reciprocated simultaneously. Only when he misses the sight of your face too much to continue, does he pull away and rest his forehead against yours, dazed and breathing heavily as you both come to terms with the world that has materialized around you again. Falling into a comfortable silence, you grin at each other, so brightly that your faces ache, but neither of you care at all. A thousand sentiments are sent between your hearts, through your eyes, every thought you’ve been waiting to share and knowing that he feels them, too, but neither of you need to say it, not yet.

That is, until Jon Snow breaks the silence with an adoring, disbelieving laugh.

“Soppy git.”

—————

taglist: @otteropera @neymarjrrwife @oliviabelova

#jon snow #jon snow x reader #jon snow imagine #game of thrones #x reader #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #headcannons

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hamliet · 1 year

Text

Rereading A Game of Thrones

In light of my recent Fire & Blood reread, I decided to reread the whole ASOIAF series because, well, why not. Below are some general observations/musings on the themes, character arcs, alchemy, and foreshadowing of book 1. I'll do this for the others as well. It's not really a meta so much as observations and thoughts.

Themes

Good Intentions Pave the Way to Tragedy

The most basic storytelling in existence tells us that protagonists have plans work out for them, just because they're good people with good intentions. Martin's whole schtick with A Game of Thrones is turning this on its head.

So many POV character's arc ends with their best intentions blowing up in their faces.

Ned tries to do the right thing and appoint the rightful heir. Robert's will was given to him, after all. He then even confesses to treason to save his daughter. He's still executed.

Catelyn leaves Winterfell as a mother to get justice for her child who was almost murdered. As a result of lies, she ends up unjustly arresting Tyrion and unwittingly helps set in motion a chain of events that results in the loss of her husband, risks to her daughters, and the potential loss of her eldest son, who crowns himself king in the north.

Daenerys saves Mirri Maz Duur and Eroeh and uses MMD to save Drogo. It just results in more death; the khalasar consumes itself, she loses Drogo and her child, and learns how little a life is worth when everything else is gone. Eroeh even faces a worser fate.

Sansa only wanted a happy ending like in the romantic songs she listens to; she accidentally gives Cersei the warning she needs to arrest her father. She then pleads for mercy and is rewarded with her father's head. Sansa had no bad intentions, but she lost her family and her freedom for this.

Arya intends to be a strong warrior and hates when others are bullied. She kills a boy at the end out of fear. She just wants to save herself. She didn't do anything wrong per se, but it will haunt her and influence her negatively down the line.

Good intentions, even righteous actions, guarantee nothing. But that doesn't mean they are pointless, either. Why? Because, Daenerys's arc shows us what you can do when only the dead and stone remain, when she arises from the ashes like a phoenix. Jon's arc shows us that others can pull us back, make loss bearable.

Duty vs Love

Duty vs. love is one of the main elements of a Romantic story, and Martin's identified himself as a Romantic. Guinevere and Lancelot, anyone? The love that cannot be, the love that is doomed because of duty--there's conflict. Courtly love is a key piece of this, and it's literally defined as:

a highly conventionalized medieval tradition of love between a knight and a married noblewoman, first developed by the troubadours of southern France and extensively employed in European literature of the time. The love of the knight for his lady was regarded as an ennobling passion and the relationship was typically unconsummated.

(Also yes the Romantics drew heavily on medieval tradition.)

It ties into the motif of the human heart against itself. Ned, the most honorable man, in the end chooses love over duty (Sansa's life over his honor). Arguably, he chose both, because his duty as a father is to protect his child first and foremost.

Yet those who eschew duty for love completely aren't framed positively either: see, Cersei and Jaime, Robert over Lyanna, etc. Neither, of course, is eschewing love for duty. Stannis, we know from the show, will in the end choose duty over love (burning Shireen), and it will be for nothing.

Instead of "duty or love," what Martin seems to be trying to do is explore the nuances of individual situations and choices, and to suggest that duty to others' wellbeing can't so easily be separated from love.

Jon, after all, ends up trying to choose between duty (the Night's Watch) and love (helping Robb become King of the North). In the end, though, it's the love of his friends on the Night's Watch that brings him back. It's not just because he said some words. It's their love, and it's the reality of the Others' threats--since the Others threaten them all, including every person Jon loves.

Justice and Mercy

It's a tale as old as time (or at least as old as the Bible): justice vs. mercy. Can true justice exist without mercy? Or is that just abuse itself? Is mercy really the exclusion of justice?

Stannis, for example, is said to be the full embodiment of justice. And notably? That's not a good thing:

Lord Stannis in particular. His claim is the true one, he is known for his prowess as a battle commander, and he is utterly without mercy. There is no creature on earth half so terrifying as a truly just man.

Just as we in the real world struggle with this question of when mercy becomes injustice, and when justice becomes injustice without mercy, so the characters struggle. Even Ned's honorable justice--executing Garen at the start of the book--turns out to have been wrong, and he's executed in a similar fashion at the end of the book. But it's not ironic justice; it's just sad.

Ned is caught precisely because of both, just like love and duty: justice, in that he refused to act in time to get Joffrey under his wing, but would have saved his life if he had. But it wasn't just to put Joffrey on the throne, so he doesn't.

He also tries to show mercy to Cersei by encouraging her to leave with her kids. He just misunderstands Cersei and assumes that, as a mother, she will prioritize her kids' lives first and foremost. Except, the tragedy is that Cersei has never had her father prioritize her life as anything more than a pawn to be used, and so Cersei calls Ned's bluff: "what of my wrath, Lord Stark?" It'd be easy to say Ned underestimated Cersei because he saw her as a role and not as a person, but I don't think that's quite true either. The reality is... Ned had good intentions. It just didn't work out, because injustice is the opposite of justice and of mercy, and injustice isn't a force of mindless orcs from a foreign land to be brought down. It's among us and it's within each of us.

The Outsiders

The real heroes of the story, the ones I'll call the Big Six, are Jon, Daenerys, Tyrion, Arya, Bran, and Sansa. Interestingly, all of them are outsiders--except Sansa. Jon is a bastard. Daenerys is an exile. Tyrion is a dwarf. Bran is crippled. Arya is a girl who doesn't like society's rules--and Jon directly compares her situation to his: "Arya never seemed to fit, no more than he had."

But just in case we were tempted to brush off Arya and especially Sansa as being not truly outsiders, we have Daenerys' chapter where she eats the horse heart which tells us exactly why Sansa is also an outsider to a degree:

If she choked on the blood or retched up the flesh, the omens were less favorable; the child might be stillborn, or come forth weak, deformed, or female.

Yep, female is seen as weak and a poor omen.

If I Look Back, I Am Lost

This is the line Dany repeats to herself after Drogo's death. She can't bring herself to look back at what she could have done differently. In the moment she says this, it makes sense: she can't bring Drogo back, and she can't undo what she's done already. She can only look forward. However... she's going to have to look back at some point, probably in TWOW, and that should provide a wake-up.

The most notable other character doing this at this point (don't worry, everyone will end up here by book 5!) is Tyrion. His proposal to Shae--that she act like his lover with romance--is essentially him reenacting his trauma with Tysha. A whore pretended to be your wife, so now you're asking Shae to pretend to love you. It should be clear from the start that this isn't going to end anywhere good.

Alchemy

Dismemberment of a "good man" is usually a symbol in alchemy for what needs to happen in order for the process to go. The man's parts are scattered. and he is killed, but from that scattering, everything will be purified and then brought back together. Pretty clearly the Starks (and also Tyrion and Daenerys, whom Ned tried to save).

The Process

When Jon says his vows in the godswood, it's clear that the weirwood trees are designed after the three stages of the alchemical process: "The forest floor was carpeted with fallen leaves, bloodred on top, black rot beneath. The wide smooth trunks were bone pale, and nine faces stared inward." The black stage is associated with death and decay, the white with skeletons (rinsing away of impurities). Red is the final stage.

The city of King's Landing also emphasizes these three colors: the Sept on Visenya's hill is white and crystal; the Dragonpit on Rhaenys' hill is black, and the Red Keep on Aegon's is, of course, red.

When Sansa finally gives up on her delusions of Joffrey, she "g[ives] herself to the darkness," which could be read as giving herself over to the black stage, to being transformed.

Green is the color of the prima materia, or the substances that will be made into the philosopher's stone. Tyrion fights at the Greek Fork. Bran is referred to as a "only a green boy with the smell of summer still on you." When Daenerys sets out on the Dothraki see, she has the following conversation:

"It's so green," she said.

"Here and now," Ser Jorah agreed. "You ought to see it when it blooms, all dark red flowers from horizon to horizon, like a sea of blood.

To me, this seems to indicate where Daenerys's arc will go: red completion.

The Wind

Again as @argentvive has pointed out, Dany being born in the middle of a terrible storm is likely a reference to the line from the Emerald Tablet about the Philosopher's Stone being "carried by wind". But there are actually a lot of references to wind in AGOT, like this Bran conversation:

Bran listened. "It's only the wind," he said after a moment, uncertain. "The leaves are rustling."

"Who do you think sends the wind, if not the gods?"

Maybe Bran will be an alchemist for Daenerys? Because her association with wind is strong in this story. When Khal Drogo gives her the silver horse, she says "Tell Khal Drogo that he has given me the wind." Indeed, he's given Dany what she needs to start her journey, and he will give her even more. When she tries to convince her husband to go to Westeros, she tells him ships are "Wooden horses with a hundred legs, that fly across the sea on wings full of wind." Drogo never takes Dany to Westeros, but this is how sailing works. Dany will arrive in Westeros carried by wind.

Also of note: the sea in alchemy can be representative of the mercurial waters, the substance that the stone is dissolved in before being coagulated. The Dothraki fear the sea, but Dany needs it.

Markings

The philosopher's stone, and most romantic couples, in alchemical stories, are made of characters with opposite "markings." These alchemical opposites are:

Male: Sun, sulphur, fire and air, hot and dry, red, gold, heart. Female: Moon, mercury, earth and water, cool and moist, white, silver, mind.

Arya is heavily marked as water and earth. Syrio Forel tells her she must become a "water dancer," and that's precisely what she does.

Pretty much all of the Starks of import are white. Sansa wears white silk. Bran wears silver pins. Jon is also water (snow). However:

Bran often dreams of wings and flying, which might indicate a future air marking for him. Daenerys has a similar dream about wings and flying. Yes, crows vs dragons, whatever. I genuinely wonder if Bran might switch markings at some point like Dany does.

"A dragon was air and fire."<--actual quote.

Daenerys's Rebirth

So as mentioned above, Dany undergoes a switch in her markings. This is also something argentvive has covered extensively. Drogo rides a red horse; Dany silver. Drogo is the "sun and stars," while Dany is the "moon of [his] life." But, as the story tells us through this myth, a moon can become a sun:

Once there were two moons in the sky, but one wandered too close to the sun and cracked from the heat. A thousand thousand dragons poured forth, and drank the fire of the sun. That is why dragons breathe flame. One day the other moon will kiss the sun too, and then it will crack and the dragons will return.

Towards the end of the story, Dany becomes red, sulfur, the sun, fire, and air; she even becomes heart via literally eating a heart. During the Mirri Maz Duur scene, it's noted that Drogo is forced to soak in a tub, and:

Her handmaids filled the tub with tepid water that stank of sulfur,

After this, Drogo's red horse is killed, because he will no longer be red; Dany will. The entire tent becomes bathed in red, and just in case we weren't aware this was a rebirth scene, Daenerys literally gives birth.

The blood had gone everywhere. Even the sandsilk walls were spotted with red, and the rugs underfoot were black and wet.

But her birth is not finished. No, it's dissolved, but not coagulated. Hence, the fire.

She climbed the pyre herself to place the eggs around her sun-and-stars. The black beside his heart, under his arm. The green beside his head, his braid coiled around it. The cream-and-gold down between his legs.

The eggs are interestingly placed by the three principles of alchemy: heart, mind (head), and body (since body characters can be, um, lusty). When Dany is reborn through the fire, she is naked like a baby, both child and mother (she's noted to be lactating, which she will use to feed her dragons).

Ser Jorah Mormont found her amidst the ashes, surrounded by blackened logs and bits of glowing ember and the burnt bones of man and woman and stallion. She was naked, covered with soot, her clothes turned to ash, her beautiful hair all crisped away . . . yet she was unhurt.

The Show That Shall Not Be Named (Mixing references here I know)

In regards to that dreadful show citing Viserys' death as an example of Dany being "cold" to her enemies... whew. So not true. When Viserys is executed, Daenerys does exactly what Ned Stark says anyone who executes another should: look him in the eye. She's asked to turn away, and she refuses. In other words, there's zero framing that we should be disturbed by her reaction--in fact, we should see her as honorable for it. It's also noted that Dany's handmaidens note that Daenerys's grief is real: "You have not laughed since your brother the Khal Rhaggat was crowned by Drogo," said Irri. "It is good to see, Khaleesi."

Rather than Dany's reaction being a sign of her nonexistent coldness, I think it's more another example of the main theme mentioned above: Dany kept trying to protect her brother by not telling him the truth about how the khals viewed him ("Khal Rhaggat"), even though 1) if she had, he'd have hurt her, and 2) he really should have been able to open his eyes and see the truth, but he willingly blinded himself not unlike Robert Baratheon. She had good intentions. It just didn't mean that there weren't extremely negative consequences. That also doesn't mean she should have told him, either.

Insofar as Bran ending up as some kind of king, Tyrion's line in the show was something about how Bran had the best story. A joke in the show, but possibly something like this will be said in the books (and, y'know, make sense). Bran is told by Old Nan: "My stories? No, my little lord, not mine. The stories are, before me and after me, before you too." Stories matter.

Foreshadowing:

It's hard to know what is accurate foreshadowing. There are some elements of George's original plans in this book that have clearly been scrapped. It's a retcon, but also not, because the retconning is less about changing the endgame and more about changing the steps along the journey. For example, the line about Jaime looking "like a king" at Winterfell, Jaime being appointed Warden of the East, etc, all seem to line up with Martin's original plan to make Jaime a villain to take the throne.

That said, for stuff that does pay off:

Jon wondering about his mother is followed up within three short paragraphs with a switch to the line "They said it was Donal Noye who'd forged King Robert's warhammer, the one that crushed the life from Rhaegar Targaryen on the Trident." He's your daddy, Jon.

Varys is associated with the scent of lilacs from his very first scene. Lilacs are only else used to describe... the color of Dany and Viserys's eyes. He had Targaryen (or Blackfyre) connections from the start.

Jon and Dany have an interesting parallel that may or may not be alchemical: both are associated with bears. Jon is mentored by Jeor Mormont, and Dany inspires Jorah Mormont.

#agot #a game of thrones #agot meta #asoiaf meta #kinda #a song of ice and fire #daenerys targeryan #jon snow #tyrion lannister #sansa stark #cersei lannister #arya stark #bran stark #varys

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a-mag-a-day · 1 year

Note

MAG 92 - baking apple pie

HOLD ON! Is that operator and Chief Inspector Hannah "Laura Popham/Jane Prentiss/Rosie Zampano" Brankin and the officer on the phone Alexander J"ared Hopworth/Martin Blackwood" Newall??? The operator sounds fairly clearly and the officer just sounds like Alex disguising his voice to sound deeper (or it's just edited like with Jared). Not so sure about the Chief Inspector. It lists both of them as additional voices, so it's possible?

"My dear Jonah" - ¬‿¬

"I know that what is done by those I cannot see might be felt here" - clever, using a place of Beholding to uncover those turned invisible by the fog. So… Did Barnabas know what the Institute was? What Jonah could do?

ELIAS "No, it was because he was curious. Because he had to know, to watch and see it all. That’s what this place is, John, never forget it. You may believe yourself to have friends, to have confidantes, but in the end, all they are is something for you to watch, to know, and ultimately to discard. This, at least, Gertrude understood." - Jon did better! Jon tried to help and save every single one of them! And in the end, exactly this was his doom to become the Archive. Gertrude did let all her assistants die, let others do the dirty and deadly work, which prevented her to get marked be all the fears.

MARTIN "Uh, sorry to interrupt, er, J-Jon’s here!" - Awww, he sounds so happy about this!

ELIAS "Goodness, Jon. Whatever happened to your hand? And your neck?" - Letting us know that the blunt knife did actually do some damage. Also Elias sounds so bored here. I mean, of course he Knew what happened, but usually he puts in a bit more effort to sound surprised or concerned.

JON [Chuckles] "I’ve had a hell of a week." - Yeah you did. On this day Jon got marked by the Vast and the Hunt. And just 4 days ago he got marked by the Desolation. (It is a Friday btw. and he met Jude on Monday.)

DAISY "Before I strangle the grinning bastard." - Letting us know, that Elias finds this whole situation amusing…

Oh yes, the static's pretty loud when Jon consciously compels someone.

Even though Elias sounds amused about the feeling of the compulsion, he also sounds like it takes a bit of effort to resist it.

ELIAS "There’s so much of this place, of ourselves, twisted by forces far beyond us. I just wanted you to know –" - Okay, was he about to talk about the Web? Since he wanted the others to know that he was not controlled and acted of his own free will. And conveniently in this moment Martin retrieved the others and interrupts him! Another Web!Martin moment!

BASIRA "Ah… Oh, god! And you killed him? You sure we shouldn’t be giving him a medal?" - Lol. Nobody liked Leitner xD At least his reputation.

God, the others finding out what really happened to Sasha… Martin and Tim I mean, I guess Jon already told Melanie.

ELIAS "Precisely. It finally tried to kill John. Then Leitner killed it. Then I killed Leitner." - THIS is a huge clue that Elias can't see what happens inside the tunnels! He couldn't see what actually happened to the Not!Them and he also couldn't hear Leitner (because of his A Disapprearance tho) when he told Jon that he entombed it.

Ben makes such a good villain! That chuckle when he phone rings!

ELIAS "No, there are plenty of other rabid dogs out there, mad with the hunt." - Smirke'ian name of the Hunt first time drop!

Martin doubting the police would do something like this reminds me of that The Fresh Prince of Bel Air's episode where Carlton thinks the police was only "doing their job" when they stopped him and Will and threw them in jail. That naiveté of disbelief that people wouldn't take advantage of their power.

ELIAS "Basira is now tied to the Institute. All of you are. Like fingers on a hand. And I am the beating heart of it. Should I, or the Institute, be destroyed, you will all, unfortunately, follow suit." - When I was first listening to this I stormed out of the kitchen to the group of friends staying at our place (because we would go on vacation together the next day) and babbled something incoherent to them about OMG THEY CAN'T LEAVE OR THEY'LL ALL DIE!!!

ELIAS "To offer some congratulations. You’re doing a lot better than I expected." JON "Feels like all I’ve managed to do is… not die." ELIAS "And believe me, that is a remarkably rare skill." - It's kind of true. All Elias needed was for Jon not to die. Yet.

ELIAS "The easily-digestible sort that wipe away any doubt and fear, and neatly organise your new world into happy little" - DOORBELLS!

ELIAS "These are things you must discover on your own." - This and with his explanation of Leitner "Telling Jon too much too soon!!!" I thought was a bad excuse. Turns out later, it was and it was intended! It was just an excuse to get Jon marked. Something I first considered lazy writing suddenly turned into brilliant writing!

ELIAS "Precisely. It is your job to chronicle these things, to experience them, whether first-hand or through the eyes of others" - Jon theater-kid explanation.

JON "I never chose this." ELIAS "You never wanted this, no. But I’m afraid you absolutely did choose it. In a hundred ways, at a hundred thresholds, you pressed on. You sought knowledge relentlessly, and you always chose to see. Our world is made of choices, John, and very rarely do we truly know what any of them mean, but we make them nonetheless." - Elias kinda gaslighting Jon here? How can it be choice if we don't know, what it means. When we don't even know there was a choice. That's kind of a philosophical question here that everyone can see differently… Also door motif!

ELIAS "I could. But I believe that if I did so, you would fail. The Stranger is antithetical to us. We thrive on ceaseless watching, on knowing too much. What we face is the hidden, the uncanny, and the unknown. If you are to stop them, you need to get better at seeing." - Ok that one actually does make sense. But I believe that in this instance Elias was also genuine and not making excuses to get Jon marked. Not directly at least. He needs him to survive death.

The explanation of the Unknowing, what it is and does was also pretty mind-blowing for me the first time listening.

Jon lingering to ask if he's still human is so sad…

Even though Elias does sound like an absolute villain, grooming Jon into horrible things, I was still not entirely convinced Elias is the super bad when I was first listening. He does want to stop the Unknowing after all.

Elias' ambiguous villainy and obvious asshole-ness was performed so well in this episode

#a mag a day #tma #the magnus archives #episode asks #mod ashes #tma spoilers #Mag 92 #lycanlovingvampyre

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celiastjamesoscar · 5 months

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Jon!! We will surely miss you and your petty behavior. You're one of a kind with your embarrassing but funny pictures. I'm still keeping my fingers crossed that Jonny Boy never uses one of your pictures 🤞🏻

YES GRACE YESSS! LOOK AT YOU GO AND BEING A PERFECT STUDENT! Turning in a paper BEFORE the deadline and dedicating a whole day for studying, hell yes!! You really did make me proud, I feel like a proud parent 😪👈🏻 (wipes a tear away). More pages are better than too less! Keep up the great work, honey!

Butters, boy, what did you do to your balls? I love that guy, he's such a cutie and sounds like an adorable little rascal. The perfect combo! And who would have thought that Butters and Stinky are causing more trouble than Frank. That queen is just living her best life watching the boys wreak absolute havoc. YES THE HOT MILF!! MY APPOINTMENT IS ON SATURDAY AND I CANNOT WAIT!! She's also covered in tattoos and so hot. I hope she takes her sweet time with me...

Helppp I really don't know 😭 I wasn't holding the handle of the knife but rather the top of the blade and somehow I must have slipped up and instead of cutting the banana I cute my thumb that was right next to it. When it comes to achieving dumb impossible things then I'm a pro at it!

Hold up hold up. There's a lot to unpack here. 1) The rooster attacked your brother?? Why did he do that?? 2) You filmed it, omg that's so funny!! I sure hope you still have that video and can use it to embarrass your brother. 3) Why did you get in trouble?? That's typical sibling behavior, and honestly hilarious 😂. Justice for Grace 2k23!

Jon, gone but not forgotten 😔 I’m hoping and praying he never includes me in the pictures, but if he ever does, I’ll take a picture to show you 😭

YOU SHOULD FEEL LIKE A PROUD PARENT!!! I had been putting off that paper since like…October, and it didn’t even take me an hour to write. Sad thing is I wrote it in MLA format when it was supposed to be in APA, and switching that over took a hot minute

Butters loves to lose things, it’s his superpower. And Stinky…I don’t even know where to begin with him, he’s a mess. To make a long story short, 2 years ago Stinky got a small cut on his paw that would not heal, and vet trips later, we found out he has feline aids 😭 So Frank is definitely the only animal that hasn’t caused too much trouble, save for occasionally throwing up on stuff, kind of like Nike. I HOPE YOU HAVE FUN AT YOUR APPOINTMENT!!! And she better take her time with you too! I’m kinda jealous of you because my mother has banned me from getting tattoos for a year

Okay, that kind of makes sense now, like I can visualize how it happened, if that makes any sense. But you definitely need an award for doing that, it’s kind of impressive!!

My brother went in to feed the chickens, and the rooster didn’t like that, so it flew over the coop to chase after my brother. That video is somewhere, I just don’t know where. I got in trouble because I was ‘supposed’ to help my brother, but I thought recording would have been better 🤷🏻‍♀️

#bender chats #clexa is forever ♾️

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july-19th-club · 2 years

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3x03 review: only one thing happened in this episode, but it took a whole hour to get there. know for sure, because i watched it twice. before anything happens, cat goes to her dad's funeral and tobias menzies is there, tyrion gets a new job as the city's finance manager because petyr just got a new job as the creepiest man available to seduce a woman who breastfeeds a nine-year-old, dany continued her adventures in being a well-intentioned white woman learning about slavery for the first time, gilly had a boy, hot pie decided to duck out on the whole stupid thing and get a nice quiet job baking at an inn, theon got chased around the moors by some guys and then saved a couple times by a guy who couldn't possibly be played by iwon rheon for his specific brand of gimlet-eyed unsettlingness and there's certainly nothing to be suspicious of there. jon...jonned? well he was in the snow. par for the course. ghost decided to do what all dogs must in the end and wander off into the great smell-laden Forests where the common man cannot follow. see you on the flip side, good boy. oh, what else happened? what else? what. else??? ah. brienne and jaime were captured by men loosely affiliated with roose bolton who is loosely affiliated with robb stark, and brienne is nearly raped when they camp for the night and jaime, coming to the sudden realization that just as he would in that situation she would risk dying rather than lie back and be violated, he gets a look of wide-eyed panic on his face and talks her to safety and then tries to talk himself to safety too and talks too far and they chop his sword hand off to humble him and a dropkick murphys-esque rendition of the song about the bear plays over the closing credits . perfection. worth waiting through the whole episode a second time for. no notes

#chopping his hand off. to humble him #ive never seen game of thrones

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agentrouka-blog · 2 years

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How do you think jonsa reunion going to be? To be honest I am scared for Sansa meeting resurrected Jon. It will not be his fault bcoz of the circumstances. Also in original outline Jon refuse to help Arya at first bcoz of benjen. Jon at first refuse Gilly n Alys maybe he will refuse Sansa at first but then reconsider.

Hi anon!

Well, Jon already refused to help the actual Arya right in the published text.

His reaction to learning of her betrothal to Ramsay in ADWD, Jon VI is to tell himself that he can't do anything.

By now she’d be eleven, Jon thought. Still a child. “I have no sister. Only brothers. Only you.” Lady Catelyn would have rejoiced to hear those words, he knew. That did not make them easier to say. His fingers closed around the parchment. Would that they could crush Ramsay Bolton’s throat as easily.

Clydas cleared his throat. “Will there be an answer?”

Jon shook his head and walked away. (ADWD, Jon VI)

He is conflicted about it, but he also tries to fight away the thought of Arya's suffering until Melisandre uses the news as a hook for her girl in grey prophecy, in order to win Jon's trust. And even her prophecy doesn't compel Jon to act, even after Mel proves the power of her visions. This is his response:

“You have not asked about your sister,” Melisandre said, as they climbed the spiral steps of the King’s Tower.

“I told you. I have no sister. We put aside our kin when we say our words. I cannot help Arya, much as I—” (ADWD, Melisandre)

It's not until Melisandre suggests sending Mance, that Jon agrees to do it, because it's a way for him to act and avoid breaking his vows.

He doesn't attempt to break his vows at all until the Pink Letter, which reveals that the girl he believes to be Arya has already escaped. It's not about saving Arya at all, Ramsay no longer has his bride. It's about Ramsay's threats to Jon himself and the Watch.

(So much for the jonrya's insistence that "he died for Arya".)

If you compare that Arya ran straight into danger trying to save Gendry from captivity by the Mountain's soldiers, Jon comes off pretty disappointing. That there is the original outline Jon who refuses to help his sister.

Considering that by this point Jon has been stabbed and will likely be living in very different circumstances by the time Sansa makes it North. I think their actual reunion will be primarily positive, an emotional highpoint in the series. Jon is unlikely to be hindered by vows to try and help her (or Rickon) and he will be more than ready to stand up for his family. The conflict between them is probably going to be of a different nature, characterized by the developing romantic relationship, the revelation of Jon's identity and the whole of the Northern succession crisis. Not to mention the pressure of the Others.

I also suspect he will make amends, so to speak, at a later point when protecting his family may run counter to considerations of vows and honor. And the actual Arya is likely to be central there.

#rouka queue #jon snow #sansa stark #arya stark #original outline #jonsa #anti jonrya #just in case

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years

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i cannot stop thinking about tma hell's kitchen au

(@f0xesand0wls thank you for enabling me)

- elias is the head chef, and peter and gertrude are his sous chefs. there are 20 total chefs in the competition: red team: jon, tim, georgie, daisy, naomi, agnes, gerry, jordan, helen/michael, oliver blue team: martin, sasha, melanie, basira, mike, jude, julia, jared, jane, manuela

- the black jackets are jon, martin, tim, sasha, georgie, and melanie, and the finalists are jon and martin. the winner is probably martin, but it doesn't really matter, because the actual plot of this is a jonmartin rivals-to-friends-to-lovers slowburn

- annabelle is the one who puts all of the film and audio together at the end. jmart watch the show once it's put on television and go 'what the fuck i didn't say any of that' because that's how reality tv is babey

- martin is one of those chefs who does poorly at the beginning but gets better and ends up in the final two. even though he's not on the same team as jon, jon is like 'this guy sucks' and maybe martin messes something up for jon early on and jon decides he does not like martin.

- jon is so nervous that he's going to screw up and get sent home early (he doesn't have formal culinary training and feels deeply underqualified) so he's very stiff and overly professional at the beginning. he relaxes over time as he becomes more confident in his own cooking and as he does well at challenges and dinner services.

- somewhere around chapter/episode 5, martin tells jon that he doesn't have any formal culinary training and that he said he did in order to get into the restaurant job he had prior to coming on the show. he's been cooking for his mother since he was ten though, and jon surprises himself by saying that that's a lot more impressive than studying technique in france or something. that's the catalyst of their transition from rivals into friends

- somewhere around episode 8, jude (who got switched to the red team a few episodes prior) gets eliminated, but on the dinner service before she does, there's an incident in the kitchen and jon's hand gets burnt pretty badly (not so badly that he has to go home, and he fights through the rest of dinner service because of course he does). he insists he doesn't have to go to the hospital for it, and elias reluctantly agrees and has the medic look at it. in the dorms later, martin helps jon unwrap it and put more burn cream on it and change the bandages and... yeah <3

- daisy and jon do not get along at first, and daisy actually tries to sabotage jon early in the season/fic. jon nearly gets eliminated because of it and he is not happy. then, a good few episodes later, the red team wins a challenge and they go on some sort of outdoorsy award and something happens and jon saves daisy from getting seriously injured. they're on better terms after that.

- when jon, tim, sasha, martin, melanie, and georgie get black jackets, elias (like every actual season of hell's kitchen) brings their family members/friends in for them to see. jon gets his grandmother, tim his brother, sasha her mother, georgie her best friend alex, and melanie some of her ghosthunt uk (the restaurant) friends. the only person martin has is his mother, and they tell him that she was too sick to come, but he can't shake the feeling that she just didn't want to. she didn't even agree to make him a video. it's a very awkward affair, and after the challenge (which tim wins) jon stands by martin while they're... idk, peeling 200 pounds of potatoes or something and they talk about it and they talk about a lot of their personal lives. for most of the competition, they're very aware that they're on camera at all times, but jon decides that being there for martin is more important than worrying about that.

- jon wins the next black jacket challenge and, when asked who he wants to invite on the reward, invites martin. they get to go wine tasting in a beautiful vinyard together and then they get some time to sit in the vinyard and just relax. martin probably realized he had a crush on jon around... episode/chapter 8? pretty soon after his admission that he doesn't have formal training. this episode is when jon realizes that he has a crush on martin, and the wine tasting suddenly seems very romantic and he gets very flustered. martin just thinks he's getting nervous since they're getting closer to the end of the competition.

- it's martin and jon in the finals. martin has tim, melanie, basira, and agnes on his bridage and jon has sasha, georgie, daisy, and gerry. in the middle of the entrees, something goes very wrong in martin's kitchen (not because of martin, because agnes burns like... ten racks of lamb or something ridiculous like that) and it looks like martin might not even be able to finish and he's freaking out just a little bit, so jon does something incredibly stupid and tells sasha to take charge of the kitchen for a moment and goes over into the other kitchen and pulls martin aside and takes martin's hands in his and is like 'it's okay, you're okay, everything's going to be okay. you're extremely talented and an amazing chef and an amazing person and i love you and this is not your fault and you're going to go back out there and get things back on track.'

jon goes back to his kitchen, elias yelling at him the whole way, and martin kicks agnes out and gets his kitchen back under control and they have no other issues that night. and martin's brain completely skips over the 'i love you' until the end of service, when the adrenaline wears off and they start to clear down and jon gives him this smile and suddenly martin remembers and he's like 'oh fuck'

but jon doesn't say anything about it so martin assumes he hadn't meant to say it, because of course he didn't, because they're competing for a job and $250,000 and he probably just heard jon wrong or something. jon probably said 'i love your cooking' and martin's just being stupid and letting his crush get away from him. so they both go back and sit in the dorms and wait for elias to call them up to his office. meanwhile, jon also remembers that he accidentally let i love you slip and he's having a bit of a crisis about it because on the one hand he meant it, but on the other hand he should not have said it then and martin hasn't said anything, so maybe he didn't even hear.

still, martin needs to thank jon. so he's eventually like 'thank you for what you did back there. i don't think i would have made it through service without what you said.' then, after a moment, because it is a competition: 'why did you help me? you could have let me drown and you'd have a secure win'

and jon just shrugs and says, 'because you needed help, and i... i care about you. i didn't want to see you fail. you are a good chef, martin, and i... i know you deserve this job just as much as me. you can go work at elias's restaurant and i can go back to mine and... and that'll be okay, if that's what happens'

and martin realizes suddenly that jon lives across the country from him normally and he doesn't know if he'll be able to see jon after this (chefs are busy people, after all, not a lot of time for family and such) and before he can really think about it he's like 'i wouldn't be okay with that' and then when jon just looks at him he clarifies, 'i... i don't want to just go back to living in [washington?], working all day and coming home to an empty apartment, and you'll go back to [new york?] and i... will i even see you again? because it's been so nice, being here, being with you, and i want to see you again, jon. every day.' he hesitates a moment, then decides fuck it, if i'm wrong, at least i'll only be embarrassed for a little while longer and says, 'what you said during service. did you mean it?'

and jon, tentatively, is like, 'that you're a good chef? yes, martin, i meant it, of course i did' and martin's like 'no, the... the other thing you said. right in the middle of it all. i- i don't know if i heard you right, and i just... i need to know if you meant it'

and it would be easy for jon to say no, to pretend like he didn't. but instead, he sits next to martin on the couch and takes martin's hand in his and nods and says, 'i... i've meant it for quite some time, i think' and he smiles at martin, a little bit shy, and martin's overwhelmed with affection and he reaches for jon's face, leans forward, and--

and the phone rings. unfortunately. because elias made a decision

- martin's door opens and jon's doesn't. jon thinks he should feel crushed, and he does feel disappointed, but mostly he's just so, so happy for martin. martin is stunned, and tim and sasha and georgie and melanie and basira and daisy are waiting for him below to congratulate him. martin's stuck in a round of thank yous when he turns and sees jon, who's run down the stairs to join the celebration and is looking at martin with those same eyes he would get when he was determined to win a challenge or finish a dish that needed two more minutes in one minute. and then jon just hugs martin, so tightly martin can barely breathe, and he mumbles into martin's neck, 'i would very much like to kiss you, but i very much do not want our first kiss to be on national television' and martin laughs and hugs jon tightly in return and mumbles back, 'i love you too, jon. just in case it wasn't obvious' and even though jon just lost, he's never been happier

- (they watch the show when it comes out together half a year later, in the little bit of free time they have around running their own respective restaurants, and they spend the whole time picking it apart

jon: okay i did not say that, where did they even get that from??

martin: god do i really look like that from behind...

jon: oh christ. martin, i- i think they thought i wanted to have sex with you. ugh, they've put on weird romantic music. red lighting. i hate this. i clearly did not--no, martin, don't give me that look, you know what i mean.

martin: wow, this makes us look like terrible chefs

and, at the end:

jon: christ, of course they were recording us in the dorms after the last service. this is a cooking competition, not a romance.

martin: eh, it was a bit of a romance.

jon: hush, i'm trying to watch. they're about to announce the winner. i don't have much hope for this chef martin; after all, he did burn that risotto back in episode 2--

martin, trying not to laugh while he glares at jon: oh my god jon let it go)

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #i have so many aus already rolling around in my head begging to be written but 👀#have another incredibly obscure one relevant solely to my own interests lol #my fic #my writing #basically lol this is... a lot

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mslynnwrites · 3 years

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So Dathen brought up the idea of Martin going with Jon to America in the Discord. Things snowballed, and all I could think about what Jon expecting the worst after he finds he’s dependent on the statements. I mean, our boy has like. NO self-esteem and is prone to martyring himself for what he thinks is right. It seemed like something he’d do.

AKA I had another excuse to write Jon being sad and then being comforted and I took it. Also they kees :3c

CW: panic, addiction (statement dependency) discussion, Jon’s incredibly low opinion of himself/depression

***

Jon leans over the balcony and watches the smoke of his cigarette drift up into the night sky like impossibly long fingers. He shudders and tries not to think about Michael. Tries not to think about the Circus. Just...tries not to think.

He...he wants to believe that there’s a perfectly rational explanation for why he feels...better. Martin had been fussing over him for days, now, trying anything to make him feel better, and that should have been all he needed! But now...well, he knows—perhaps Knows—that the statement was all he needed.

And Elias...he’d known and done nothing! Was that the point? To turn Jon into his little puppet to tug around along a string of statements he needed in order to...to what, exactly? He’s dependent on them, now, he’s sure—no matter how awful it is. But does he need them to...live? Is...is this what Jude meant?

He lets his head droop, despite feeling more awake and alive than he has for a week, and takes another drag of his cigarette. He doesn’t want to think. He doesn’t want any of this.

There is movement behind him, and he doesn’t need to turn to know that it’s Martin. He smiles internally; Martin has been...so much more than he’d ever dreamed. He never complains when Jon passes out on his shoulder during a long travel time. He’s pretty sure he remembers him wrapping an arm around him one of those times. He always takes Jon’s concerns seriously, even if they seem completely ludicrous. Hell, he even agreed when Jon mentioned he thought they were being followed. And he…

Jon doesn’t deserve him. Martin deserves so much better.

“Hey,” Martin says softly, leaning on the railing beside him. “Are you...how are you feeling?”

Jon lets out a dry laugh. “I feel good,” he rasps. “I shouldn’t, but…”

Martin looks over at him. There is something dark in his eyes, and Jon knows it’s because of what he is. “So it’ll...it’s going to ‘tide you over’, then?”

“I-I think so. Yes.”

Martin looks away again and starts picking at his fingernails. He doesn’t say anything, and his face is pinched in thought. Jon wishes he would just tell him off already. Tell him he’s disgusted and walk away.

His throat constricts. He knows it’s coming, and he hates it. He hates what he is, he hates Elias for doing this to him, he hates that Martin is trapped in this hell with him. He hates that he’s going to lose the only person who seems to care about him.

“So what do we do?” Martin asks, still not looking at him.

Jon swallows back his emotions and reels himself in. He will not cry here. He’ll save that for when Martin leaves; he doesn’t deserve to be pitied. “Th-there’s um...there’s a train leaving for Washington in the morning,” he croaks. “And...there’s a plane to London with a layover in Chicago leaving in 5 hours. I can...I’ll...stay- o-out here while...while you get your things together. Th-that way y-you don’t have to- to see...me.” He finishes with a half-choked sob. He doesn’t want Martin to go. He doesn’t deserve Martin to stay.

He wonders: will he treat him like Tim does? Or will it be more like Georgie—distancing himself? Honestly, that might be worse than violent hatred. Maybe it’s what he deserves.

Martin is looking at him, his expression twisted into confusion. “What? What are you talking about?”

His entire body is shaking, and he can feel the dam starting to break. He can’t—he can’t—let himself break, no matter how terrified and horrified and awfully good he feels. He is a monster. He deserves nothing. Nothing but pain and terror and abandonment.

He’s hyperventilating. There’s a panic attack tingling in his bones. It’d be so much easier if he were alone; he wouldn’t have to pretend. He could let everything out that he’s keeping bottled up right now. But he’s not, and he can’t.

There is a hand taking his. He thinks he hears Martin say his name. He thinks he must be hallucinating.

“Jon,” Martin says again, his voice urgent and stressed. He has both of his hands in his, now. He’s staring intensely into his eyes.

He can’t speak. He tries anyway, and all that comes out is a quiet whimper. Pathetic.

“Oh, Jon.” Martin’s hands leave his, and he screws his eyes shut because he cannot bear to watch him walk away. But then there are arms wrapping around his torso, and he is being pulled against a broad chest. “I’m not going anywhere, Jon.”

The dam overflows, and Jon crumples. His legs give way to the concrete floor beneath him, but Martin holds him. He gently settles him onto the ground, never letting go.

He tries to speak. He tries to apologise. He tries to do something that isn’t burying his face into Martin’s chest because he does not deserve this no matter how scared or upset he feels and he doesn’t understand why Martin isn’t walking away nor why he’s holding him so tightly and gently and warmly and he is scared and Martin is not leaving.

He’s whispering things that Jon can’t understand through his guilt-ridden haze, quietly shushing him and rubbing circles into his back the way he’d always wanted someone to but no one ever had.

Slowly, his sobs taper off until he can only shiver under Martin’s bulk with an occasional painful, wet gasp. Martin loosens his grip, and Jon doesn’t want to move even though he knows he should because he is a monster and Martin is wonderfully, beautifully human.

“It’s okay,” Martin whispers. “It’s okay; you’re not alone. I’m here. We’re gonna figure this out.”

“I don’t understand,” Jon gasps. He doesn’t understand why Martin is still here. Why would Martin want to stay—to help him?

“I know,” Martin replies. “None of this is your fault.”

“How could it not be?”

Martin shushes him. “You didn’t know. None of us knew. I’m not going to throw the blame on you just because- because you think you deserve to be hated, Jon.”

Jon finally finds the strength to pull himself out of Martin’s embrace. The warmth is gone and he is cold and afraid and he doesn’t understand. “I’m a monster,” he rasps. You should hate me.

Martin’s hands cup his cheeks and softly caress away the tears. “You’re not a monster,” he says, “not to me.”

If he’d had any tears left, they would be falling now. His whole body aches and his head is pounding and Martin is looking at him with an open yet unreadable expression and he has never been so close before.

He is slowly leaning closer, then stops when their noses touch. Jon searches his eyes and finds hesitation, fear, concern hidden in their oceanic depths. He is dizzyingly close and his fingertips are gently pressing into his cheeks while they’re sitting on the floor of the balcony of their shitty motel. Jon closes his eyes, barely breathing, anticipating, fearing, wanting.

Martin’s lips taste like mint. They are soft and gentle and do not pry. Jon balls his hands into Martin’s shirt and leans into the kiss like it’s the last drop of goodness in his hellish world.

It only lasts a few glorious seconds before Martin pulls away. Jon lets out an unconscious breath. He is still shaking, he is still a mess, he’s still a monster. But Martin...doesn’t care. Martin is going to stay. He doesn’t have to do this all alone.

“Where you go, I go,” Martin murmurs, resting their foreheads together. “Okay? I’m not going to leave you. Not ever.”

Jon takes in a shuddery breath. “O-okay…,” he whispers. “Th-that’s the deal.”

Martin is still smiling when he kisses him again.

#tma #fic #fanfic #cw: mental health #cw: panic attack #jmart #thanks alex and elian for giving me more to write lmao #i DID try to resist #but the concept was to good not to write

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raya-rhaenyra-ahsoka · 3 years

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Why Daenerys Should've Stayed Longer in the North Than Attack Cersei Too Soon (Which is a dick move, really) PART 2

This is a continuation from my other post, as promised. Here’s the link to Part 1 here.

ALLIES FROM THE SOUTH

The Stormlands. With Dany recently legitimizing Robert Baratheon’s last living bastard, Gendry (Yay!), and appointed him as the new Lord of Storm’s End, I think he had pledged his loyalty and full support to her.

Now since the Baratheons are the overlords of the Stormlands, it ultimately makes the Stormlands part of Dany’s new rule in Westeros. And if the Stormmen questioned Gendry’s legitimacy, there are two people who can back him up: Ser Davos Seaworth, a landed knight, and Ser Brienne of Tarth, literally the heiress to Evenfall in Tarth Island. Both of whom are from the Stormlands and have served the late Baratheon lords, Stannis,

and Renly, respectively.

TV show-wise, Gendry had taken over Edric Storm’s plotline. Edric Storm was another one of Robert’s many bastards and it was him who Ser Davos saved from being killed by Mellisandre in the books, not Gendry. Gendry himself was grateful to Davos for saving his life and he sort of stepped up as his own parental figure. I also think Gendry reminded Davos of the son he lost during the Battle of Blackwater Bay.

As for Brienne, she and Gendry never shared a conversation in the show, but in the books, he even saved her life. Brienne came from Tarth, an island in the Stormlands, where her father Selwyn Tarth is lord and one of the many bannermen of the Baratheons of Storm’s End. Brienne came across Gendry in the Inn at the Crossroads while she was searching for the Stark girls. When she saw him, she literally thought he was Renly because of his striking resemblance to his uncle. Their exchange went something like this:

Brienne: Oh my god, Lord Renly?!

Gendry: Uh, what? Lord? Lol no, I’m just a smith.

I wished it happened in the show, it would’ve been funny.

Dorne. There isn’t much plot regarding Dorne in the show. (Again, f*ck D&D for ruining a great sub-plot of the story!) But in the books, the Martell heiress, Arianne was the ultimate feminist icon. She supported and fought for Myrcella Baratheon’s claim to the Iron throne over her younger brother, Tommen, and she hoped that the rest of Westeros would follow after Dorne’s right of inheritance regardless of gender and order of birth. But no! They disregarded that seemingly important plot that even George R.R. Martin was disappointed about the changes. (We hear you, George!) Nevertheless, Arianne would’ve supported a queen, yes. But between Daenerys and Cersei, she’d probably go with Dany mainly because of their family ties. In case you forgot, Rhaegar’s late first wife, Elia Martell, was Arianne’s aunt. Also, because of what happened to Elia and Oberyn Martell in King’s Landing, the Martells practically loathed the Lannisters. In the show, Oberyn Martell’s paramour Ellaria Sand, and his bastard daughters, the Sand Snakes, hated the Lannisters, that’s why they sided with Dany. But with all of them dead and House Martell now extinct, I think the new prince of Dorne would’ve allied himself with a tamer ruler, not one who plays with wildfire. (Note: this is when Dany stayed in the North and did not march south yet.)

Spies. In the Art of War, the use of spies implies gaining knowledge of the enemy, knowing their motive and their next move. With Lord Varys the Spider in Winterfell, who’s still serving under Daenerys, has its advantages. Vary’s networks of spies or as what he called them, his “little birds” are literally scattered across the seven kingdoms.

His little birds are actually children, and appearance-wise, cannot be easily identified as spies. With his intel, they could easily formulate a plan to defeat Cersei.

DEFENSE AT SEA

If Cersei couldn’t do it by land, she’ll go by sea. Which, Daenerys of course, have the appropriate fleets to defend, covering both the Narrow and Sunset Seas. Here's a map:

(Source: pinterest.com)

Enemies to the East. If Cersei will be stupid enough to attack through the Narrow Sea by sea, Daenerys has the fleets to defend. The Northern fleet, a.k.a the Manderly Fleet of White Harbor and the Arryn Fleet in Gulltown in the Vale will join forces.

Enemies to the West. And if they invade through the Sunset Sea, they’d have to pass the Iron Islands, where Yara Greyjoy’s Fleet will intercept them, with the help of the Mallister Fleet in Seagard.

Who would win depends. The only other person that’s probably as good as Euron at sea is his niece, Yara. The rest of Dany’s fleet would have to get lucky or outnumber the number of ships in a fleet.

At this point, you’ll probably be like, oh, what if they steer clear from the fleets and enter the North’s weakly defended areas? Okay, that job falls to the castles nearest to their borders. The northernmost castle is the Last Hearth, the seat of House Umber, which is practically already deserted. On the south is Greywater Watch, which has the strongest defense out of all four cardinal directions. On both east and west hold the seat of two branches of House Flint, with Widow’s Watch on the east, and Flint’s Finger on the west (Again, refer to the map above). Once they see Cersei’s fleet, they’ll inform the people in Winterfell.

People tend to forget that Daenerys has the only air support with her dragons. So when she hears about this, she’ll easily burn the enemy fleet with one dracarys away.

That is, if Qyburn hadn’t installed that big-ass crossbow in one of the ships, then she’ll have to be better at dodging them. It gets better if Jon’s willing to help her with Rhaegal, but we’ll never know.

OUTNUMBERED AND SURROUNDED

The map shows the Crownlands and its neighboring kingdoms of the Vale, the Riverlands, the Reach, and the Stormlands. (Source: pinterest.com)

Territories. With Cersei sacrificing Casterly Rock to tighten her grip on the Iron Throne, she technically had also sacrificed the Westerlands, which meant everything north of King’s Landing is Dany’s territory now. With Dany’s army and territories secured, the Crownlands, where King’s Landing is, is technically surrounded by the Vale, the Riverlands, the Reach, and Stormlands. I included the Reach because, well, she roasted the Tarlys and took the remaining men to her cause with a choice, bend the knee or die in a blaze of glory.

Armies. Dany has the combined armies of North, Vale, Riverlands, Westerlands, Reach, Stormlands, and maybe Dorne, plus, the Unsullied; fleets of the North, Vale, Riverlands, and Yara’s fleet from the Iron Islands; and the only air support, her two remaining dragons. Cersei on the other hand, just had the army of the Crownlands, King’s Landing’s City Watch, the queensguard, plus, the Golden Company without elephants; and Euron Greyjoy’s fleet.

I think it’s obvious that Dany outnumbers Cersei’s army, by a lot. And at this point, Dany has enough allies to lay a siege on King’s Landing.

DAENERYS VS. CERSEI

Let’s discuss the difference in the personalities and motives of Daenerys Targaryen and Cersei Lannister.

They both have blond hair, are the only girl among three siblings, and are queens in their own right. But that’s where their similarities end.

Cersei currently sits on the iron throne, and she is loving the perks that came with it. Endless Power, which meant she can do whatever she wants and not care about what people think, like sleeping with her brother. With the news of Dany coming back to Westeros, she sees her as a threat and wanted nothing more than for Dany to disappear so she could stay in power.

Daenerys, however, claims that being the queen of the seven kingdoms is her birthright, as it was the Targaryens that reunited the whole continent of Westeros. Of course, it’s still power, but at the same time, she sees it as a responsibility as well. (With great power, comes great responsibility. Wow, I’m quoting Spiderman now.) She believes that as a queen, it’s her job to take care and provide for the needs of her subjects and even makes an effort to hold court as she listened to their demands. She also thinks that slavery is a big no-no, so she freed them.

The key to becoming a great leader is finding the balance between being loved and feared by your subjects. Cersei is more likely feared than loved. She also doesn’t care about her people, a fact that she admitted to her brother, Tyrion once. Daenerys most likely had the scale tips on balance, with her being equally loved and feared by her subjects. She’s loved because she actually takes time to listen to the people’s needs, and feared because she could take you out using her dragons with one word.

If Dany did lay siege on King’s Landing (again, we aren’t counting her major mad queen moment), the only thing Cersei can use against Dany is the people living within the city walls. Cersei might have heard that Dany’s been freeing slaves in the cities surrounding Slaver’s Bay, and figured out that she has a soft spot for the common folk.

In conclusion, if Daenerys had simply waited out and took her time planning and gathering allies and supplies against Cersei, she would’ve been successful in her campaign to retake Westeros. But then again, we aren’t the writers for this show. In the end, they had Jon battling through himself while he chooses to reply with either of his two favorite lines, She’s my queen or I don’t want it. Or that Sansa and Arya doesn’t like Dany at all and think that she’s a power-hungry, dragon-riding bitch. Or that Bran doesn’t give a f*ck about anything. So, yeah. What do you guys think?

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cellsshapedlikestars · 3 years

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WIP Wednesday/i’ve dreamt about you

Ok, I literally cannot stop writing this dumb OnlyFans fic that has somehow also turned into a coffee shop au, so I apologize for the spam updates you’ll likely be receiving. And honestly, this WIP Wednesday is mostly just an excuse to post the above moodboard that I spent Too Long making.

I was debating which bit to post, because it was between this and the opening part of the next chapter, which includes a description of what the photo was... but I think I’ll save that particular bit for the actual chapter.

She's getting the hang of this, she thinks as she stares intently at the thermometer sticking out of the pitcher so that she gets the milk steamed to the correct temperature and not a degree more.

Myranda's starting her off on easy drinks and so far she's managed not to mess up a single one today, though to be fair, she's only been here for a few hours and she's only been tasked with making the most basic of drinks. She finishes off the current order and snaps the lid in place, feeling extremely pleased with herself, and sets it down on the counter in front of the man waiting. He picks it up and she turns back to focus on cleaning up after herself (because no matter how hard she tries, she can't seem to not get little flecks of milk sprayed everywhere when she steams it).

The man stands at the counter, unmoving, and she can see him out of her periphery and something sinks in her stomach – she must have made his drink wrong and now he's going to yell at her.

“Everything ok?” she asks, forcing a bright smile onto her face and turning to look at him. She recognizes him immediately; he must be a regular because he'd been in during her Monday shift, too. Harry, she thinks his name is.

“Not really,” he says with a slight frown, but doesn't continue, and her nerves flutter for a moment.

“Did I make it wrong? What did you order?” She reaches a hand out to take the drink back, but he pulls back slightly.

“Not the drink,” he says, “I was just hoping your number would be on the cup, but it's not.”

She blinks at him in confusion and says, “my number?”

That gets her a grin, his frown immediately giving way and she realizes he'd been joking with her the whole time. “Your phone number, so I could call you. I was hoping you would've written it on my cup.”

She has no idea what to say to this, so instead she blurts out, “only cashiers write on the cups.”

He stares at her for a moment and then lets out a burst of laughter that makes the heat rise in her cheeks. “Maybe next time,” he winks at her and raises his cup in a vague salute, then walks out of the cafe.

“You know Harry?” Myranda asks once he's left and the next customer in line is ordering from Mya at the register.

“Only from here,” she says, still staring after him in utter bafflement. “Did he just hit on me? He asked for my number.”

Myranda sighs and says, “it happens. He also asked Saffron for her number when she was here, so like... keep that in mind. I'm not saying you can't give it to him if you want, just something to be aware of. Oh, and cafe policy – if you want to flirt with a customer and we're not busy, go for it. But if any of them ever make you feel uncomfortable, feel free to tell them to fuck right off,” Myranda rolls her eyes. “Some of them can't take a hint.”

Sansa nods, though she knows she will likely never tell anyone to fuck right off. She doesn't think she's ever told anyone that in her entire life.

And then her traitor eyes flick up to the corner table where Jon had set up about an hour ago. She watches his leg bounce under the table and he's tapping his pen against his thigh, eyes fixed on his computer screen, brows furrowed like he's annoyed with whatever he sees there. A part of her is relieved that he didn't see how incredibly awkward she was talking to Harry, and part of her hates herself for even thinking of Jon at all because he has a girlfriend and he’s not interested anyway.

She needs to get Jon off her mind, she decides. Maybe she should give Harry her number after all?

#jonsa #jonsa fic #wip wednesday #i should probably make an outline for this #instead of just gleefully typing out words with only the vaguest idea of where everything is going #onlyfans au

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eldritchqueerture · 3 years

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Chapter 7: Threads

Hello! Long time no see! The delay was unplanned and I'm sorry about that. I had an idea in the meantime to add more fluff chapters before shit starts to go down but then I couldn't get to writing them while telling myself that I will write them eventually, and then I had other ideas, and I was writing for Summer in the Archives, and so we are where we are. I decided to just keep posting what I have and if I do feel like adding fluff that would be happening in the meantime then I will just make a separate work in the series. I'm aiming to go back to my weekly schedule (haha), so I hope I can get the next chapter out next Friday. As always, please leave me a comment or come yell at me here on tumblr, it always brightens my day and keeps my motivation up! Enjoy <3

Martin looks at Jon’s sleeping face and thoughts swirl inside his head like tendrils of the mist that has been following him, tendrils that meet in one specific place – his feelings for him. He’s not proud of the fact that this is where his thoughts end up turning every time he thinks about Jon, considering the severity of the situation Sasha explained to him, but he cannot help wondering – despite his better judgement – if Jon doesn’t share them. He replays the worry in his brown eyes, the tight hugs, always ensuring he’s there, safe, and whole… He might be adding meaning to otherwise ordinary actions, of course, but he can allow himself to hope, for when that hope sparks inside him, the fog withdraws.

Jon is wrapped in a blanket on the cot in the storage room, where Martin has laid him. They found him sleeping on the desk in his office, his eyes all red-rimmed and puffed up; they didn’t comment on it. Martin carried him to the storage room and placed his glasses nearby. Tim went to take Sasha home, so she can get some rest, too, and was supposed to come back with lunch; the events of the morning are laying heavy on all of them and have left them quite hungry.

Martin closes the door to the storage room and comes back to his desk. Working seems a bit pointless when you know that your boss is scheming an apocalypse somewhere behind your back and you can’t quit the job, but he finds himself needing a distraction, so he opens up his computer to do some follow up research on Jason North and the alleged ritual site he found in the middle of a Scottish forest. Martin’s never been good with research, not like Sasha, so he soon stumbles upon a dead end. He ends up researching pictures for Scottish forests and cottages, and he daydreams, with his poem notebook by his side. How nice would it be to just move to Scotland, to a cottage like that and forget everything. Grow your own vegetables and herbs, welcome the sun every morning with a cup of tea; go down to the town for some groceries, meet some good cows; and maybe Jon is there with him, and he finally gets through to his head that he shouldn’t make tea in the microwave, and they cuddle on the couch while reading—

“’scuse us,” comes a deep voice and Martin looks up, startled, to find two delivery men standing there, in the Archives, with a big package next to them.

“Looking for the Archivist,” the other man says, but Martin figures that just because the voice is coming from a slightly different direction. They sound exactly the same; he finds they look similar, too. Their clothes are identical; they’re different makes and all but somehow, he can’t tell these two men apart. There’s… something off to them.

“Sorry, are you two meant—” Martin blinks, but one of them interrupts him.

“Won’t take up your time.”

“Just got a delivery.”

Martin opens his mouth, trying to process the fact that they seem to be two parts of the same whole. He wouldn’t be able to explain this thought if asked, but this is what runs through his head.

“Look, you really can’t actually—”

“Package for Jonathan Sims.”

“Says right here.”

He looks and yes, there, on the package, says ‘Jonathan Sims’ in a very ordinary, unassuming writing. He glances over at the door to the storage room and back at the two men.

“Well, he’s not—”

“We’ll just leave it with you.”

“Be sure he gets it.”

Martin struggles for words.

“Okay, I will, but you really have to actually—”

“’course. Much obliged.”

“Stay safe.”

“I’ll… try?” He responds with the first thing that goes into his head.

“Your recorder’s on, by the way.”

“Might wanna change that.”

Martin looks at his desk and he notices a tape whirring steadily in the recorder.

“Oh… so it is. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“At all.”

They both turn as one and leave Martin, the recorder, and the package alone. He hums, looking from one to the other and back.

“Well, I know for a fact that I did not turn you on,” Martin speaks to the recorder. “Maybe Tim felt in a mood for a prank. It is April Fool’s after all,” he huffs out a laugh. “Would be his style to do something, even with… all this happening.”

He stops the recording and turns to the package; before he can do anything else, though, the recorder clicks itself back on. Martin gives it a sideways look and his heart picks up the pace. He frowns and clicks stop again. One second. Two. There; it clicks the red button on its own.

Martin stands up and takes a step back.

“What the hell,” he breathes out.

Suddenly he hears a familiar laugh from the top of the stairs and energetic steps running down. Tim emerges from the doorway and gives him a surprised look.

“You okay, Marto?” He asks and places a paper bag on his desk, then points his chin at the package. “What’s that?”

“Uh…” Martin collects himself in a second. “Two delivery men just came by. It’s for Jon, apparently.”

Tim places a second paper bag and his coffee cup on his desk and walks around the package.

“No sender. Interesting.” He strokes his chin and looks at Martin with a grin. “We should open it.”

“Tim!”

“Look, boss is asleep, the package came to the Archives and not to his house, how private can it be?” Tim throws his arms up but seems to be watching Martin’s reaction more carefully. He doesn’t look very bothered, Tim assesses; he seems to be equally interested in the contents. He sighs and tosses him a letter opener.

“Fine, but you’re taking the blame,” Martin rolls his eyes with mock exasperation, and Tim’s grin gets wider.

“That’s the spirit!” He cuts the tape at the corners and opens the packaging to reveal an old wooden table; there’s a hole in the centre, Tim reckons about six inches square, and its surface is covered in intricate patterns resembling optical illusions. He frowns at it. “Huh. A table. Why would Jon…” He trails off as his eyes follow the hypnotizing patterns. “Interesting…”

Martin watches as Tim drops the letter knife to the floor, enraptured by the table. He wants to say something, to call out his name, but the fog from the edges of his vision spills out at the sight of the table and it blocks out the world; Martin stops feeling the chair underneath him and finds himself stranded in a sea of grey, thick fog.

“Tim? Tim!” He calls out but there’s no answer. There would be no answer, ever; he’s all alone here.

—

Jon wakes up to a nagging feeling that something is wrong. He blinks, trying to get rid of the sleep weighing heavily on his eyelids and gathers his bearings. He realizes he’s on the cot in the storage room, a blanket thrown to the floor next to him. He still feels too hot, and he takes off his sweater vest. What’s this feeling, gently pricking at the back of his mind?

He gets up, wobbly as he feels, and makes his way to the door. As he opens it, a voice makes its way to his ears.

“…friend mentioned poetry?” Jon squints his eyes, as light reaches him, yet he immediately recognizes the voice.

“…Gerry?” He asks and blinks – yes, he can make out the thin and long figure dressed in black, sitting on top of Tim’s desk. Tim is there too, leaning against Martin’s desk in front of Gerry, and Martin sits in the chair, his cheeks coloured just a little with faint pink. They all turn to him with surprise when he emerges. He can feel tension in the room, and he acknowledges the presence of something that looks like a table covered with a blanket in the middle of the room; the nagging in his mind grows into anxiety. “Something happened.”

“God, Jon, did we wake you up?” Martin jumps up to him with genuine worry and Jon smiles slightly, as he shakes his head.

“No.” He blinks again, to chase away the sleep and looks at Gerry and his inscrutable expression. “What are you doing here?”

“Watching a zombie rise from the dead, apparently.” Gerry gets down from the desk and crosses his arms. “Also saving the lives of his assistants by accident. I know you said you’re a mess but good God.”

Jon frowns with worry.

“Gerry, I’m serious.”

Something in Gerry’s demeanour changes as he sighs, and his expression clears.

“Well, I wanted to tell you that I’m in,” he says. “Whatever your crazy plan is, if you even have one, I want to hear it or help you make it; you weren’t picking up your phone, so I decided to come, pay you a visit.” He glances towards the table and his eyes cloud with a shadow. “And it turns out it’s good that I did.”

“What is this?” Jon walks over to the table and three pairs of hands shoot out to stop him. Gerry’s touch lingers comfortably, because apparently that’s what he does, and Jon isn’t so sure he minds it.

“An old table, with weird, hypnotizing patterns,” Tim says, and Jon detects a tinge of guilt in his voice.

“Did it have a hole in the middle?” He asks urgently and Tim nods.

“We need to get rid of it,” Jon looks in the direction of the stairs. “Put it in the Artifact Storage and make sure it’s covered.”

“Are you familiar with it?” Martin asks and Jon nods.

“Amy Patel case; the one where a person got replaced. Why would they—” Jon’s face falls and he turns to Martin and Tim. “Who delivered it?”

“It was two delivery men, really big, quite intimidating, but—uh, now that I think about it I can’t remember what they looked like…”

“Shit,” Jon sighs and rubs his face. “Okay, we really do need a plan.” He looks over their faces and his eyes stop at Martin’s disgruntled expression. “What is it?”

“What you need is rest,” he crosses his arms. “You pulled an all-nighter with Sasha, and you haven’t even slept for two hours now.”

“You do look like shit,” Gerry offers his insight and Jon fixes him with a glare.

“I can’t protect you when I’m asleep,” he says and looks pointedly at the table. “Clearly. Tell me wha—” He stops when Gerry squeezes his arm sharply. He takes note of the static in the air and clears his throat. “I want to know what happened.”

Tim sighs.

“Alright, it is kinda my fault,” he admits looking away. “I insisted on opening your package to see what’s inside. But in my defence, I thought it would be something funny; at least a bit humiliating for you, and we could laugh it off. The mood’s been horrible lately,” he grimaces. “The lines kind of… hypnotized me. I couldn’t look away and I started getting lost in them. It… It felt like being trapped in a web; the more I struggled to look away, the harder it was. I don’t know how much time had passed before your resident goth intervened. Then I came back to myself and Martin… he was grey again.”

Jon glances worriedly at Martin, who starts fidgeting with his fingers.

“I didn’t think you guys could see that,” he confesses. “It’s… it’s that fog you mentioned,” he says to Jon who nods, his lips pressed together. “It was… stronger this time.”

“He was a step from disappearing,” Gerry says, looking at Jon curiously. “I thought you guys were new here.”

“We are,” Tim says, looking at Jon pointedly. “You said you know why that happens.”

“I did,” Jon sighs and leans against the desk, next to Gerry. “I’m—Martin, I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

Martin looks away and he mutters something along the lines of “don’t worry about it”.

“The fog is… another one of the fears; called The Lonely or The Forsaken,” Jon says, looking somewhere into space. “It’s the fear that you’re all alone, that you can’t connect with anyone. Martin…” He exhales. “I have reasons to believe that your connection to the Lonely might have appeared in this… reality, along with my memories.” He finally looks up at Martin; there are no emotions on his face. “When did the fog first appear?”

“S-Sometime when I got transferred into the Archives,” he nods. “I thought it was just anxiety, but… y-yeah, it makes sense, I suppose.”

“You still don’t remember what you did to end up here?” Gerry asks and Jon shakes his head; Gerry clicks his tongue.

“So, what do we do now?” Tim looks at Jon. “What is Elias’ plan?”

“I…” He rubs his forehead. “I don’t remember exactly. I…” He trails off looking at them. They are waiting for him to tell them what to do. Martin, with colour in his eyes and something else there, something Jon doesn’t let himself think about; Tim, whom he hasn’t hurt yet, who still has hope and who isn’t filled with bitter anger and sorrow; and Gerry who’s alive, here with him, offering his help. Jon thinks about Sasha, the real Sasha who’s still there. He can’t protect them all from other Entities and Elias. Even with all of his knowledge, Elias still has more power here than him, and Jon sees that his threats weren’t a bluff. Jon deflates with a sigh. “We need to know if there’s a way to fill the tunnels with CO2 before the Hive attacks; and I need the table sealed shut - it’s not getting anyone this time. Other than that, I think we need to work the statements, like before.”

“Are you kidding?” Tim raises his eyebrows. “Elias is serving an Eye power and not letting us leave, and I’m supposed to still work for him?”

Jon swallows.

“Elias… He’s dangerous. Even with everything I know, he can still hurt us. I’m not risking an open war with him.”

“What is he gonna do, kill us?” Tim scoffs but he goes quiet when Jon gives him a hard stare. “Fuck off.”

“Murder isn’t usually his style of dealing with things, he generally prefers threats and blackmail, but he can definitely do that, too,” Jon says. “Let’s just say we don’t want to piss him off more than is necessary.”

“You literally punched him in the face today.”

“Yes, I know.” Jon grits his teeth and looks away. Tim narrows his eyes.

“He threatened you, didn’t he?” He asks and takes a step towards Jon. “What did he say?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Jon says coldly. “We need to get back to work.”

“Oh, no, you’re going back home and getting some sleep,” Martin shakes his head. “Or we refuse to work.”

Jon groans but Gerry places a hand on his shoulder.

“Go, Jon, I’ll keep an eye on them,” he promises and after a second of searching his face, Jon gives in.

“Fine. Be careful.”

“You, too,” Martin says and hands him the paper bag from his desk. “Eat this.”

Jon gives him a grateful smile and, with a last look at them, walks to the stairs and climbs up.

—

Gerry Delano sits comfortably on a park bench with a cup of coffee in his hand and sips on it slowly; he thinks about the things the new Archivist – Jon – said to him this morning. He looked tired; the bags under his eyes, the messy hair, the absolutely horrendous smoking habit (at that Gerry just chuckles to himself) and the clean but messy clothes speak for themselves, and Gerry didn’t want to say it, obviously, but it was this entire image of an absolute mess of a confused man that made him believe him. The marks are curious, yes, but Gerry has seen many things which he doesn’t understand, and he’s okay with that. No, this man is clearly in need of support and if he’s really taken over for Gertrude (and, judging by the sheer amount of his energy just screamingBeholding, that was very probable), he is in for one hell of a ride.

If Gerry would have to describe his perfect life, with his mother and Gertrude gone, he’d probably say he wants to find a normal job and get some peace and quiet; that being said, he did try that as a teenager, running away from his mother and her life. He told himself then that he didn’t belong in the normal world and would always find his way back to his mother. He abandoned that dream for a while, until Gertrude offered to help him get rid of his mother’s ghost. He thought that maybe if he helped Gertrude for a while, burned some Leitners in the meantime, maybe he’d have enough and manage to build a life that didn’t always border on getting killed by something supernatural; and so his life went on and he never really grew to feel at home in the “normal” world. He’d about accepted the fact that he’ll probably die on the job with the old Archivist, and he wasn’t very surprised to find how quickly he accepted it. It seemed fitting; much more so than getting a job at a coffee shop or other, and just living among people who had no idea what’s really out there. Then he got shot in Pittsburgh – a Slaughter case he’d tried to prevent – and he was forced to stay behind in the hospital. In some fleeting moments of consciousness he saw Gertrude holding the Catalogue of the Trapped Dead and he prepared himself to wake up as a ghost any time; instead, he woke up to an empty hospital room and a note in her handwriting – “Build your life here. Stay safe.” He thought if this weren’t his chance to build the life he’d imagined for himself then it would never come; and he was right. He soon discovered that making friends is way too difficult when you’re able to tell which Fear Entity marked them in that supernatural encounter they’re too scared to talk about, and he returned to London, searching for Jurgen Leitner himself. He thought he found him, but he ended up beating up someone who turned out to just be some pathetic old man. And here he is, back in the world his mother dragged him into without his consent. Gerry sighs and takes another sip of his coffee. Maybe the universe simply needs a pyromaniacal, angry goth who did in fact end up in the business of helping strays.

He directs his thoughts back to Jonathan Sims and the Institute. They need to form a plan and Jon said he would fill his assistants in on at least the basics. He takes out his phone and checks the time – 1 PM. He rules that’s enough time to explain the basics of the metaphysical functioning of the Fear Powers in the world.

He finds his last messages and opens the one Jon sent at his request for contact saving purposes – “Here. – Jon Sims”. He’s a creative one, isn’t he? Gerry saves the number as Jon Archivist, then changes it to Jarchivist, and grins; then swipes to call.

No answer. He tries again and it still goes to voicemail.

Gerry shrugs and finishes his coffee. He burned his last Leitner in the alley just before he met Jon, so he doesn’t exactly have any new leads. He thinks he might as well pay the Archives a visit; it’s been a while since he was there last time, with Gertrude.

The street is quiet when he walks up to the building. The aura of Beholding is quite strong here already and he looks at the Latin words above the entrance. “I watch, I listen, I wait.” Tacky.

He comes inside and turns towards the stairs leading down. He’s not surprised when the lady at the reception calls out to him.

“I’m sorry, sir! Can I help you?”

Gerry turns to her. She’s a small Chinese woman with a bob cut and huge glasses; she smiles but Gerry can recognize a customer service smile when he sees one.

“Oh, actually, I’m a friend of Jonathan Sims, the, uh, Head Archivist. Saw him this morning, I promised I’d drop a few notes.”

“Notes?” She glances over at the papers at her desk. “What’s your name, sir?”

“Gerry Delano,” he tries to smile as she checks something.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I have you anywhere as a potential source—”

“Oh, that’s weird. I worked with the previous Head Archivist, Gertrude Robinson? Jon had a couple questions about her management style, you know how it is,” he waves his hand. “New job can be stressful.”

She looks over his clothes and tattoos with a frown for a second and then sighs.

“Alright, Jon’s office is right downstairs, through the Archives, Mr. Delano.”

“Thank you very much,” he nods his head and runs down the stairs.

Gerry doesn’t know what he expected to find down in the Archives, to be honest. Probably Jon being interrogated by his assistants, or maybe no one at all; he definitely did not expect to find one tall man staring into swirling patterns of a table that gave him very mixed signals of the Web, and another man in his desk chair, staring into space with a very unnaturally grey stare and his form dissipating into mist.

“Oh, I swear to God,” Gerry curses under his nose and looks around. “Can’t I meet people normally once in a blue moon?”

He picks up a blanket that lays stranded on the ground and covers the table. He then snaps his fingers in front of the tall man’s face and waves his hand.

“Hey, you still there?” He asks and the man draws in a breath, rapidly, and blinks, then looks around in confusion.

“Wh-Wha…” His eyes land on Gerry and he frowns. “Who are you?”

“Someone who just saved your ass from something nasty,” Gerry says, turns to the other man and touches his shoulder. Still there.

“Oh, God, his eyes are grey again.” The tall man grabs his shoulders and shakes him. “Martin? Martin!”

“How did he manage to go so deep into the Lonely with you there?” Gerry asks and moves to look inside the Head Archivist’s office. Empty.

“Into the what? Martin!” He shakes him again and Martin blinks and exhales but does not acknowledge him at all. “Do you know what’s happening to him?”

“Where’s Jon?” Gerry looks at the man sternly.

“Jo—who the hell are you?” The man exclaims. “We need to snap him out of it!”

“It’s not that easy.” Gerry rolls his eyes and looks through Martin’s desk. “What does he love?”

“What?” The man looks at him confused and Gerry stifles a groan of frustration.

“Martin. He needs an anchor, something that he loves that will bring him back here.”

The man’s eyes search the desk frantically.

“Come on!” Gerry rushes him and the man groans.

“Can he hear me?”

“Allegedly.”

“What does that mean?!” He looks at him pressingly.

“It means I don’t know!” Gerry grabs one of Martin’s hands. “He might, if he’s not too far gone.”

“Martin,” the man grabs Martin’s other hand. “Martin, think about tea. Poetry. Um, about—” He’s cut off by Gerry’s groan of frustration. “What?!”

“That won’t work,” he shakes his head. “He’s in the fogs of The Lonely; he thinks he’s alone and that it’s never gonna change; that he can’t ever make meaningful connections with other people.”

The man’s eyes move frantically as he puts something together in his brain.

“Martin,” he squeezes his hand again. “I’m here with you, you hear me? You’re not alone and Jon is here too, and Sasha will be here soon, and we will all be with you here because we are your friends, okay? We’re—” His voice catches when Martin’s grey gaze lands on his face. Gerry unknowingly nods for him to continue. “Look, I know you’re convinced that you’re no help here because of that fake resume that everyone pretends not to know about, but you’ve been such an amazing friend through these couple of months and—” he searches for words before continuing. “And I know you have feelings for Jon, and you need to think about him because if you ask me, he’s head over heels for you too, and you’re just too oblivious to realize, both of you,” he laughs and a tear streams down his face. “So you need to think about him because he needs you to be here and stay here, and we need you too, okay, Marto, we—we really do…” He inhales, as Martin squeezes his hand back and blinks. The man sighs deeply with relief and leans his forehead on their joined hands.

“Tim…?” Martin speaks up with a very gentle, detached voice and then his gaze lands on Gerry who has now let go of his hand and stands back up. “Who’s that?”

Tim looks up and wipes away another stray tear, then stands up to face him.

“Yeah,” he frowns. “That’s a good question.”

Gerry smirks and climbs up to sit at one of the desks.

“Seeing how I just might have saved your lives; I’d rather think some thanks are in order.”

“I’m not kidding, who the fuck are you?” Tim crosses his arms and narrows his eyes. Gerry notices he stares at his tattoos like he’s trying to remember something.

“Eh, fine.” He rolls his eyes. “Name’s Gerry Delano, but you may know me as Gerard Keay.”

Recognition flashes in Tim’s eyes.

“We had a statement about you!” He says and immediately frowns. “You killed a man.”

Gerry chuckles.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“What are you doing here?” Martin asks and Gerry crosses his legs.

“Waiting for Jon, actually. I thought I may find him here, but it appears I must have found his assistants, am I correct?”

“And you know Jon how?” Martin follows up; his voice gains a bit of depth to it, and he tilts his head, much more present than a second before.

“We met in an alley outside the Institute this morning,” Gerry shrugs. “Or, late night. Morning might be pushing it. He didn’t mention it?”

Tim sighs and rubs his face and Martin shakes his head.

“Eh, that’s fine. You two look like you have enough information to process for the next two months.”

“Something like that,” Tim nods and leans against Martin’s desk. “Jon’s getting some sleep and we’d rather have no one disturb him. It’s been a… hard morning.”

“He did look like he hasn’t slept in a week, I’ll give you that.” Gerry shoots a glance at Martin; his skin is regaining color, but his eyes are still unnaturally grey, and the edges of his form are blurry; the fog still lingers. “Hey, um… Martin?” He asks and Martin looks at him with surprise.

“Yeah…?”

“Just getting your names since you haven’t introduced yourselves. But that’s okay, I’m good at picking up from context.” He smiles and continues before Tim can speak. “So, Martin, what is it that you do here?”

“Uh… excuse me?” He blinks.

“I’m just interested, tell me what your usual day consists of. What do you do for fun? Your friend mentioned poetry?”

He notes the blush on Martin’s face with some satisfaction; the dark green colour returns to his eyes, though, still, his edges remain blurry. Martin can’t answer however; as he takes a breath, he’s interrupted by the door to the storage room opening.

Jon looks, frankly, even worse than he did before; in addition to everything aforementioned, his eyes are now puffed up from sleeping and he has apparently ditched his sweater vest, leaving only a creased, light blue shirt.

“…Gerry?” He frowns at him and takes in the room. “Something happened.”

“God, Jon, did we wake you up?” Martin shoots upright and the edges of his form become solid for a second. Just a second.

“No,” he shakes his head and blinks at Gerry. “What are you doing here?”

“Watching a zombie rise from the dead, apparently.” Gerry jumps down from the desk and crosses his arms. “Also saving the lives of his assistants by accident. I know you said you’re a mess but good God.”

“Gerry, I’m serious.” Jon gives him a look and Gerry sighs, but it’s a sigh of mock exasperation which hides only fondness. From the moment he learned Jon is the Head Archivist, he knew he would be a lot different than Gertrude; even if at first it was “this kid is a proper mess” contrasted with Gertrude’s calculated craft. He can see that what actually makes him different, better, is that he cares. Even though Beholding has him in its grasp far stronger than it ever had Gertrude, he has that spark of human empathy that she deemed an obstacle. He wouldn’t be the kind to sacrifice his own assistants to stop the Apocalypse, which maybe doesn’t give them big chances of success, but makes Gerry trust him. It makes him feel safer and it makes him stand stronger, and maybe that is exactly what is needed. And that one detail, that seriousness in his voice when he asks what happened to his assistants – to his friends – and the worry in his eyes when he checks if they’re okay, that’s what fully convinces Gerry that this man is worth his effort. If they can’t save the world with a strength like that then maybe no one really can.

—

Martin opens the door to Jon’s office to see the man reading something in a book. He looks up at Martin and his lips twitch towards a smile.

“Hello, Martin,” Jon says and immediately yawns. “God, sorry.”

“I was about to ask you if you’re still working.” Martin takes a look at his desk; there’s two empty mugs pushed to the side, a tape recorder (not recording), and some books and papers. Martin notices Jon’s glasses are still where he left them after he found them near the cot in the storage room. “You’re wearing contacts now?” He asks and Jon raises his eyebrows.

“What?”

“Well, I- I noticed you didn’t wear glasses today,” Martin shrugs and points his chin at them. “You forgot them yesterday.”

Jon’s eyes stop at the pair of glasses, and he frowns.

“Huh.” He rubs his chin. “Checks out, I guess.”

“What?” Now Martin frowns and Jon looks up at him, breathing in.

“The, uh—The Eye powers,” he grimaces. “This happened before too. I don’t—I don’t need them anymore.”

“Oh.” Martin shifts. “Well, I just wanted to tell you, you should get some rest. It’s—It’s late.”

Jon smiles fondly, staring into the air. Martin wonders what he's thinking about. Is he going back to memories he doesn't have?

“I really should, shouldn't I?” Jon asks no one in particular and sighs. “Thank you, Martin.”

“F-For what?” Martin laughs a little bit confused, and Jon looks at him for a moment before he shrugs.

“For caring. For being there.”

Martin looks away and shifts awkwardly again. Jon's stare, though gentle, is piercing; overbearing. Martin can't yet decide if it's good or bad, but it is certainly a lot.

“I should—”

“Could you—”

They start at the same time and look at each other. Jon shakes his head and gestures with his hand.

“Please, go first.”

Martin takes a deep breath.

“Could you tell me what—what it is that you want me to remember?”

Jon opens his mouth and closes it. His forehead ripples.

“I...” he begins and sighs, looking at his desk. “I don't think it was you. I mean—I think that... that it was a different version of you. In my past.” He looks up and his brown eyes are sad. “So it makes sense you can't remember because it never actually happened for you.”

Martin deflates with a little “oh” and looks down. The hole in his mind is settling nicely in the fog and he doesn't question it. Why would he? It was always there. He’s only lived this life, not anything else – if anybody would know it would be Jon. And obviously, it was a different Martin that Jon fell— That Jon cared for.

“Were we…” Martin stops, the word “together" left hanging in the air, and Jon looks at him for a second before something flashes in his eyes.

“We don't—I mean, I can't really— It's, it wasn't you so...”

‘I can’t really expect you to have the same feelings now’ is what Jon does not say, but Martin, of course, has no way of knowing that.

“Right,” Martin nods, and he can see Jon's cheeks blush, much the same as his own must right now. Martin swallows the awkwardness and nods again. “Alright, I'll, uh... I'll leave you to it. Then. Get—uh, get some rest.”

He closes the door and exhales deeply. Well, that was disastrous; he thinks, as he walks towards the document storage. There’s something heavy weighing down on his chest but he chooses not to dwell on it; it wouldn’t provide him with any insights he didn’t already know.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #tma oftm #jonmartin #niki.writes #new posting format because i have not heard of consistency in my life #we're back at it!!#also i promised myself that i would finish this #i Will Not abandon this #we are powering through #and we can Do this

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