#and lady stoneheart is SO proud

[run-godspeed]

y’all remember the new wow cover drop?

lady stoneheart sighting in the background i’m waiting for the horror story that’ll be playing out with that

[agentrouka-blog]

I would (partially) forgive condal & co of their writing crimes against humanity (😂) if they insert whatever house whent theory is because it would be hilarious as fuck (highly doubt it though with how much TB a$$ kissing they are doing).

I may searched about this upon seeing your post and read some reddit posts and saw some TB are calling this TG's delulu fantasy but seriously? It would be TG's biggest mic drop that aha, the current Starks actually have Targ blood, but do they know? Nope. Would they care? They'd probably have one second of existential crisis and an "ew" then going back to being badass and proud Starks and conveniently forget this.

Although it would still be nice that they don't have a shed of Targ in them because their family fought the long night even without dragons so duh they are quite capable and magical in their own right.

But you know, it also reminds me of this quote

"The northern girl. Winterfell’s daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window."

And how Sansa is currently the heir presumptive of Harrenhal as she is sill posing as Baelish's daughter.

But I see this more as an Alys mond also being a foreshadowing to Jonsa than the Starks being A&A's descendants?

(Alayne would not be heir presumptive of Harrenhal because she is a bastard.)

(I also don't see the jonsa in this so much as Melisandre or even Lady Stoneheart.)

But ultimately, I love how it's kind of irrelevant. The magic in that line is already far more interesting on Alys's side than on Aemond's, so if Catelyn's line is obscurely descended through Alys and Aemond, I would consider Alys as a native Riverlander so much more important to it. If there is one thing HOTD did well it's to showcase the fact that the Riverlands are "ancient" and tied to the old gods and the new, same as in the main series. The Ghost of High Heart appears to be an albino Child of the Forest, wreaking havoc with her prophecies in a way that sent House Targaryen spinning off the utter rails (again), sending Rhaegar diving through old Valyrian scrolls and dooming his whole dynasty. This is thousands of years after the Andals destroyed the sacred weirwood groves, and the GOHH is still shuffling around to make prophecies to Arya and Beric like it's no big deal. There's a whole cursed castle built out of weirwood on the edge of a lake with an island no one dares visit where there may or may not be an ancient magical order of green men guarding magic trees. Is that less powerful than what's going on with the "dragonblood" or what's happening in the North, all things considered?

Alys strikes me as powerful in a similar way. If there's magic informing the path of House Stark, it's the magic of the old gods and the Riverlands, and if there's Targness diluted in there, it's no more significant than the remnants in House Baratheon or House Martell or House Velaryon or House friggin Longwaters, or potentially House Hightower, House Tarth, or any further unrecorded descendents.

The Targaryens are a bit of a blip in Westeros, historically speaking. Harren Hoare's cursed legacy architectural project is going to outlast the dragonriders who melted a few of its towers from the way it seems, so... ultimately, it doesn't matter. They came, they self-destructed, and Westeros is carrying on.

[msweebyness]

Akuma AU- Stormy Nights

Here’s the fourth edition of my Myvan May content! A little snippet of my up and coming Akuma AU! Keep an eye out for the character post, which will come out soon! @artzychic27 @imsparky2002

A large bolt of lightning cracked across the sky, followed by a deafening clap of thunder, and with it came the frightened squeak of a petite girl with patches of hot pink scales on her skin, three bright yellow eyes, and thick blue hair. With a violent tremble, Horrificator pulled the thick, wooly blanket she was clutching onto tighter over head, trying to drown out the noise.

It was something she wasn’t proud of, this little secret of hers. What would people say if they were to find out that the Queen of Terror herself was frightened by something so juvenile? No one would ever take her seriously again, her credibility as a villain would be completely ruined!

As another crack of thunder sounded, Horrificator let out a soft whimper as she covered up her head with the thick wooly blanket. However, the soft material did little to dim the petrifying noise. But, it was then that she heard familiar, heavy footsteps, a sound like boulders falling in the Alps, and a large figure settled down next to her.

“Not doing so well with the storm, little nightmare?”, asked the rumbling and low voice of her beloved, and she just so slightly peeked her head out from under the blanket. She was met by Stoneheart’s bright chartreuse eyes, full of a softness as he looked down at her that made her fear already begin to fade.

“I…I guess I was…a little scared.”, the petite monstrous akuma admitted, subtly edging towards her boyfriend with a squeak as rumbles began to sound in the distance once more. Stoneheart, being extra careful with his immense strength, reached down and picked her up, gently tucking her against his chest.

“Don’t worry, love, it won’t last forever. Storms always pass.”, he soothed, almost cradling Horrificator as she nuzzled into the fabric of his black shirt, hearing the deep, resounding echo of his heartbeat through the stone of his broad chest.

“I know…it’s just-“, the scaly pink villain began, only to cut herself off with a shriek and hide her face in his chest as a massive rip of thunder rattled the room. Whatever she had been about to say dissolved into small whimpers as she shook.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”, Stoneheart said softly, his voice gaining a comforting cadence like falling pebbles as he lifted her up to kiss her forehead, just over her tightly shut third eye as he gently stroked her back, “You know I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you.”

“Of course I know that, my gem. You’re my knight in sedimentary armor.”, she said with a soft laugh, lightly skittering up to bury her face in his neck with a soft purr.

The storm continued to rage on outside, but Horrificator hardly noticed as she drifted off in her boyfriend’s massive arms. Even the Lady of all Frights herself could fall to fear every once in a while, but at least her beloved would always be there to pick her up.

A little fluffy moment between a wholesome akuma couple! Leave your thoughts in the comments and reveling!

[lycorim]

Ask game!! Here's: 11 & 17?

(what fic or piece of art are you proud of making?, the thing in canon that everyone loves and that you also love)

11- I am proud of a lot of my art, but if I had to pick one piece it’s this one, which I lovingly call Daenerys Piece (to date, my only Dany art, which really needs to change lol). It took me just under a year to finish (on and off bc I’m a procrastinator) and in a way I see it as the culmination of my art education. A close second is this comic adjacent thing that I still really like.

17- gee, this might be the hardest question on the list, mostly because I don’t know if there’s any one thing in canon that everyone likes. This is going to sound corny and basic, but… the characters. The points of view. The way Tyrion’s chapters are so misleading and conniving that they actively confuse the reader until Martin finally wants you to know what’s going on. The way Sansa and Ned talk around their emotions to themselves, so that it’s only upon a second read that you actually get what they are saying. The POV trap that is Theon Greyjoy. Brienne. Cersei. The way the we only learned that she really genuinely believed she had seduced Ned by lamenting about her incestuous tendencies several books after it happened. Everything about Cersei. I could go on and on, but it’s that stuff that I always gush about when the books come up in conversation. Maybe it’s cheating to say that the characters are my favorite part of a character-driven story, but idk man Martin went fucking hard when he chose to write for over 20 points of view and kept them all distinct. Also Lady Stoneheart because the moment she was introduced took me OUT. On my work break no less! I should get workers compensation.

(The ask game)

[laurellerual]

You know, I wasn't really sold on the Arya as Lady of Harrenhal theory (mostly because the Stark siblings being in Winterfell by the end would make me very happy not for any other reason) but you convinced me, it makes sense for Arya's arc AND Arya as the Lady of the cursed castle which nobody can hold for more than a few years before dying but she could sounds immensely badass and cool.

Love your blog 💜

As far as Harrenhal is concerned, I must say that I myself have parts of that theory of which I am more convinced and others less so.

Like I'm almost 99% sure that Harrenhal will be important again during the Long Night. It's too central and magical a place as far as the Old Gods are concerned. Also it would be silly for the smallfolk not to take advantage of a giant and mostly empty castle during the winter.

I'm almost 99% sure that the BWB and Arya will meet again and that she will be put in some leadership position. If Nymeria the direwolf and her pack of common wolves aren't foreshadowing this I don't know what are about.

And I'm sure the BWB will take over Harrenhal at some point. It happened with the outlaws around Harren the Red, it happened with the outlaws around Alys Rivers, it will happen again.

Who knows? Maybe the BWB already has control of Harrenhal when Arya returns. Wouldn't it be fun if it was Lady Stoneheart who took the castle from Littlefinger? Even though technically he hasn't properly claimed it yet.

Anyway thanks! Honestly, speculations aside, I am very happy with this blog. It may sound silly, but lately in fandom discussions I find more and more people who have adopted stuff that I'm sure they have read here, written by me, and that makes me a little proud.

[weirdwoodeyes]

i wrote this for a jb fic exchange a while back and i’m still kind of proud of it actually so everyone gets to see this again

Brienne thought she was going to go inside, return to her dreams, but she found herself saying, “I understand why you want to find Lady Sansa...why you need to find her. Do you understand why I need to find her too?”

Jaime’s expression softened. It was the kindest look he’d given her since she told him about Lady Stoneheart. “I could have given you anything in King’s Landing, Brienne. My house was in your debt. A mountain of gold, a warship, a proper match — any one of those would have been appropriate. Instead, I gave you armor, a horse, a sword.”

Brienne nodded. Then nodded again, to herself. “We will leave in the morning, then.”

[caithyra]

Cousin in the North?

So, GRRM has said that the characters will end up more or less in the same positions in ASoIaF as they did in GoT. If you’ve seen me in other fandoms you know what that means...

Random Theory Time! (Or: How Sansa ends up ruling most of Westeros in the books, maybe?)

So, when Robb is looking at the chain of inheritance, Catelyn suggests distant cousins in the Vale of Arryn. Anyway, turns out Lord Frey is the biggest FoBzilla there ever was and now Sansa Stark is considered the only legitimate Stark alive (no one in the North believes Jeyne is Arya ffs, they watched these girls grow up! All that’s needed is for the Starks’ bannermen to be called and they take one look at Jeyne, who is the wrong age and presumably not with a long “horse-face” or she wouldn’t have thrown so many stones in that glasshouse, and boom).

Here’s the thing: Sansa Stark is not just the last legitimate Stark. She is also first cousins with the young and sickly Lord of the Vale and the niece of the dethroned Lord of the Riverlands, which is currently going through a famine in a ten-year winter, while the Vale’s granaries and larders are so full they might burst.

Yes, Edmure has a baby, but this is Westeros; if grown women like Minisa, Joanna, Lyarra and rest are dropping like damselflies, I fully expect kids under the age of 3 to drop even faster, and Edmure was probably traumatized over the whole Red Wedding thing and not in the mood to lay with his Frey wife (if the High Septon doesn’t go “weddings are not massacres!” and annuls it for a tidy sum that may or may not have the prints of “small” fingers on it). Alternatively, if Edmure dies and baby dies after him, Sansa would inherit from a cousin in the Riverlands as well.

Things Catelyn says/wants sometimes comes true (see wanting to keep Bran in the North before his fall, and then he even goes further north!). She talks about inheritance, cousins, the North and the Vale.

And the gods, whether they’re the Seven or Old, listen to Sansa’s wishes/curses at times, and Sansa wanted Harry the Heir thrown by his horse (depending on when it happens, that’s a guaranteed trampling, maybe even by several horses, sometimes not very survivable, it could also happen on the side of a mountain on a trail, even, and, well, the Moon Door is a death sentence for a reason).

What if Sansa wont be Queen in the North?

What if she will become the Queen of the Northern Kingdoms? The North, the Vale and the Riverlands?

Heck, we have the “Younger, more beautiful, Queen”-prophecy and Jaime’s quest for honor, so lets thrown in the Westerlands as well by the Western bannermen abandoning Cersei after Tommen/Myrcella’s deaths (maybe she flees King’s Landing for Casterly Rock and opens the gates to Greyjoy in exchange for becoming his wife and instead ends up a saltwife?), and going to swear fealty to Jaime, because by now the world is upside-down enough and they don’t care about some silly Kingsguard vows he already broke in the most spectacular way possible (also, they all seem to like him, so...).

Except, he pledges his sword and shield to Sansa Stark. Basically becoming her bannerman. Which makes his bannermen, her bannermen, too.

Tywin: “Muhahaha! I shall steal the North via Sansa Stark by forcing her to marry my most hated child!”

Sansa: *Yoinks the Westerlands and his favorite child from underneath his most successful child’s feet by playing much fairer than him.*

"Queen you shall be . . . until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear."

“Dear” -> Jaime’s loyalty, the adoration and fealty of the kingdoms, queen in her own right without having to marry, is called beautiful the most in the books, would get Casterly Rock through either her marriage to Tyrion or by Jaime’s vow, as well as under the tutelage of Littlefinger becomes the Queen of the Chessboard of the Game of Thrones.

Heck, with Brienne of Tarth and the Baratheons dying out, lets add the Stormlands as well!

Though those are an even longer shot, since it wouldn’t have poetic justice behind it (on the other hand, Joffrey Baratheon abused her and Stannis Baratheon wants to steal her birthright, hm...).

Basically, we don’t know who Brienne’s mother is, but she could be a Baratheon aunt, which would make Brienne next in line! ^_^ How fun! Okay, we’ve got 5/7 kingdoms now...

The Reach will probably devolve into civil war because the War of the Five Kings is pretty much half-exported from the Reach (Hightowers/Tyrells supports Renly and Joffrey and Tommen, while the Florents support Stannis, via their queens, Selyse and Margaery). Depending on how destroyed the Tyrells are, and how busy the Hightowers will be with the Greyjoys, it might end up becoming a three-way within the Reach’s borders alone.

The Iron Islands might end up swearing fealty to Sansa to pay for their transgressions through Theon and Asha, or this will be the conflict that finally gets rid of the cockroaches that should never have survived this long with their stupid culture...

Dorne will probably remain independent.

The Crownlands will burn with wildfire, but from the ashes the shoots of a new spring might grow...

Okay, so Iron Islands and the Crownlands! There, Seven Kingdoms of the North (of the Reach and Dorne). Okay, so those were a reach, but eh! This is Random Theory Time! Strict logic and accuracy need not apply!

And so you have witnessed the birth of The Queen of the Northern Kingdoms Theory. Move over BoltOn, Varys the Little Mermaid, Septa Lemore and the rest! There’s a new Queen in the North! Lol.

[tinybriewrites]

Like A Drama - 3

It was the beginning of spring when Hawkmoth returned with a vengeance. He had powered up like a butterfly who had finally broken from its cocoon, complete with its metamorphosis. His restraint gone, the villain had sent out five akumas all at once, each stronger than anything Paris had ever seen before.

The city had devolved into pure, unadulterated chaos. Burning flames dominated the fifteenth arrondissement, charred corpses scattered on the streets. The Arc de Triomphe was cracked into two, aftershocks wrecking through the remaining structures in the district. The Louvre was flooded, unmoving bodies floating with the tide.

The stench of death filled the air like water in the ocean. Ladybug hated it. No matter how much everything will be reversed in the end, they would remember it. She would remember it. Marinette had committed the image of every corpse she'd come across to memory, vowing to avenge them and free them from Hawkmoth’s grasp eventually.

She was so close. They were so close. The tracker was set, and so were the backup tracker, and the spare backup tracker. Their plan was ready, all it needed was another everyday akuma... Not this. Not this madness of a train wreck.

"What's the plan, m'lady?"

Ladybug felt sick.

"I'll take on the fire one, you head to the Louvre. Whoever finishes first goes after the earthquake kid."

Ladybug was in despair.

"What about the other two?"

Ladybug couldn't afford to give up.

"High casualty akumas first."

Paris was waiting for her to save them.

Crème Brûlée was a trigger-happy kid equipped with a flamethrower.

As Ladybug soon found out, although her suit protected her from burns, it did nothing for the smoke billowing all around her. Her eyes were glassy. Her throat burned. But, at least, the magic kept her conscious, as painful as that state may be.

The akuma was in their home field, playing chase with the heroine throughout the burning district. Ladybug instinctively flinched every time she came too close to the fire; it didn't hurt, but it felt like it did anyway.

The flame-haired child kept a constant distance from Ladybug, slowing down when she does and stopping completely when she rests. They treated it like a game of cat and mouse in between burning the remaining civilians with their weapon.

Their giggles rang through the silent district, an eerie signal of death. Ladybug hadn't felt this helpless since Stoneheart.

Just as the akuma threw another pudding bomb at a house, a plan formed in the heroine's mind.

"Hey, kid!" she yelled. "Wanna play a game?"

Crème Brûlée came to a halt.

"What game?"

Hook.

"I bet you can't juggle three pudding bombs."

"That's a trap," the child deadpanned.

"Too afraid to lose? I didn't peg you for a scaredy-cat, kid!"

"Nuh-uh! I'm just smart," they stuck out their tongue.

"Sure, you are, uhhuh," Ladybug said with clear disbelief in her tone.

"Argh! Fine! But I want your earrings if I win," the akuma said with a proud smirk.

"Sure, you have my word."

Line.

Crème Brûlée started with one pudding, throwing it higher and higher in preparation for the next one.

"Is that it? I thought you were better than that," the teen's disappointed voice echoed in the silent district.

"Sly old lady!" they shot back.

Despite that remark, the young child couldn't help but respond to the challenge, their newly gained superpowers making them arrogant.

The akuma tossed the two pudding bombs in various tricks and spins, each more daring than the last. Just before they added the third, they threw the pudding a teeny bit too hard, causing it to go slightly off-course and hit a streetlight.

Sinker.

Like a stack of cards crashing down, the final piece of Ladybug's plan fell into place. With the force of an explosion, the streetlight fell into the crumbling house behind it, causing slabs of concrete to fall down from the entire street, stopping just an inch in front of the heroine.

Ladybug luck was nothing to scoff at.

With the akuma trapped underneath the rubble, the spotted hero easily grabbed their flamethrower off their hands and threw it violently at the ground. That relieved some of her anger at Hawkmoth.

Purifying the akuma, Ladybug attached the latest tracker her twin had designed onto it. Tense, she opened the connected app on her yoyo.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three-

Doot. Doot. Doot.

It worked. Hawkmoth was screwed.

Shooting a quick message to her partner, Ladybug followed the trail of the now invisible butterfly.

Like the eye of the hurricane, the Agreste mansion was perfectly intact, not a speck of dust out of place, in stark contrast to the hell on earth around it.

"No," Chat Noir whispered when he landed. "No. No. No! It can't be Gabriel Agreste!"

"Chat," Ladybug said sternly.

"It just can't," his voice cracked, panic in his eyes.

"Chat," she tried again.

"He can't be, LB, he's my dad!"

"Adrien!" she grabbed him by the shoulders. That got his attention.

"Whether or not he's your dad, the butterfly came back here."

"He can't be Hawkmoth," he whispered with a lost look.

"He might be or he might not be, but it's undeniable that there is some sort of connection between them."

His leather ears drooped.

"Chaton," she said softly. "You're my partner. We've been through hell and back together. We've died for one another. I care for you, all our friends do. We're here for you, Adrien."

"He just can't," he repeated.

"Regardless of that, what we need to do right now is find out. Paris is dead," the cat hero flinched. "One way or another, we have to stop this. Now."

"Okay," Adrien said quietly, looking at the burning city he loved, putting his emotions into a box. "Let's do this."

Chat Noir vaulted through the butterfly-themed window of the observatory, spreading glass shards everywhere. Ladybug was close behind.

"Butterflies, attack the intruders!" Hawkmoth said from behind them, calmly sipping tea at a small table.

In an instant, the pure white akumas turned a sickly dark purple, the curves of their wings turning into sharp blades. A flurry of lavender enveloped the two, the akumas cutting into their suits with ease. The two bloodied teenagers stood back to back, fending off butterflies with the spin of their weapons.

"Why, father!" Adrien cried, twirling his baton at another akuma.

"Why, indeed," he mused, setting his teacup down.

"All I want is your mother back," Hawkmoth leaned back on his chair.

The two heroes were slowly being corralled by the kaleidoscope of butterflies. Bleeding heavily, the pair were barely conscious, fueled only by spite, anger, and adrenaline at that point.

"She wouldn't want this!" he screeched. His mother was kind. "She would be horrified!"

"So what? She's dead, and no one has to know."

At that moment, complacent, Hawkmoth leaned a little too far and fell backward. His head dropped precisely on the pointed edge of a shard of glass that scattered across the room from the two heroes' entrance.

Just like that, Hawkmoth was dead.

Ladybug luck was nothing to scoff at, indeed.

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@maribat-bdbwm

[dreadwulf]

2021 Year-End Fic Review

I was tagged by @tall-wolf-of-tarth 

How many stories did you complete?

Three. Ring of Fire, Half-Life, and The Golden Knight. Definitely better than 2020 where I’m pretty sure I only finished 1. 

What is your total word count for the year?

I totaled up the count for the chapters I published this year on AO3 in my various ongoing and completed stories and came out to 82123. That’s rather more than I feel like I wrote.

That’s not counting the zombie chapters I posted here on Tumblr only.

What fandoms did you write in this year?

Only ASOIAF. I watch, read, and enjoy many things, but I only do one fandom at a time. 

(I do poke around in The Locked Tomb fandom, but I’ve stayed out of fic for now.)

Did you write more, less, or roughly about what you expected?

Always less than I would like. Although looking back at that word count I was more productive than I thought I was. 

What’s your own favourite story of the year?

I was proud of Ring of Fire. Some quibbles here and there, I’d like to take a hatchet to that last chapter, but it did what I wanted it to do. I set out to write a story I had never seen before in J/B fic and I think I did that - started off in a different place, created several unique plot points, and had an ending for J/B that I’m pretty sure no one else had used yet at the time.

What is your most underappreciated story of the year?

Also Ring of Fire. Statistics-wise it had less hits, less kudos, less comments, and I’ve never seen it recced anywhere. Honestly my productivity hit a brick wall at full speed when I finished that story and had less engagement than I did before. But that’s nobody’s fault but mine, I’m easily discouraged.

Biggest fanfic-related disappointment of 2021

We need a ASOIAF announcement to get the fandom excited and engaged again. Any announcement. Even if it’s bad. It’s the limbo that’s killing us.

Biggest fanfic-related surprise of 2021?

SeeThemFlying has a lovely series going based on one of my prompts from the fic exchange, and it’s something I’ve always wanted to read and couldn’t bring myself to write. I’m so grateful. 

Something you’re looking forward to working on in 2022?

Getting to the end of each of my ongoing fics. I have some passages I am very excited about for A Simple Twist of Fate, and A Man For All Seasons. The plotting’s all done. I just have to get myself in order and stitch the last chapters together. I’ll feel a lot better with all the ongoings finished.

I also will transplant the modern zombie fic to AO3. I posted two chapters here and then quickly decided it was stupid and a waste of time, because I have issues. But I do have a lot more done (like, a lot) and when I talk myself into it I’ll get it all up on AO3, because even if I feel weird about it I can’t just throw away a story. It’s still my baby. My ugly, stupid baby.

Also I have NOT forgotten about the prompts people sent me, which inspired The Golden Knight last year, and have also inspired a quickly-flying-out-of-my-control Lady Stoneheart Groundhog Day fic and a few other fills that I can’t even describe without spoiling. They will all emerge at some point. 

In short: I am still writing, though in fits and starts right now due to lack of confidence. But now that I’m getting my stupid frozen shoulder treated I can type again, and my job has finally become much more manageable, so I fully expect to be much more productive in 2022. 

#ask games

[rubberchickeny]

Brienne's lie/betrayal

One thing I have pondered a lot while waiting for The Winds of Winter (ha!) is Jaime's reaction to Brienne's lie.

1) is he too good at reading her to even believe it? He famously has called her on this before.

2) If he believed her, would or could he, in fact, be proud of her for learning to play the game better, or

3) will he be too raw after Cersei's full blown deceit to be able to think clearly?

As for Brienne, the only questions that are important are that

1) does she have a plan, and if so

2) what is it?

At the very least she can try to demand a trial by combat, or try to appeal to the fact that Lady Cat (who is not Lady Stoneheart) vowed not to ask anything of her that would dishonor her. Too obvious or not (GRRM is not trying to subvert every single thing), I believe Brienne herself has to destroy Lady Stoneheart. (If we ever get there, that is.) She also made a sacrifice to the weirwood...🤔

What do you guys think? Does she have a plan, and does Jaime believe her lie?

[everydayescapeartist]

JB Fic Exchange Recs - Canon Oneshots

Okay, another few oneshots from the @jaime-brienne-fic-exchange but more of the canon variety.  Again, just a sampling of some I enjoyed...there are so many good ones!

let me crawl inside your veins - this is a continuation of ADWD showing Brienne and Jaime's journey to Pennytree/LSH and the thoughts, conversations, and MORE that happen along the way (read: first time in the wilderness, and hot yes).  The Brienne POV in this is wonderful and this is just beautifully done and it completely tugs at your heartstrings.  Ugh, I just love these two, okay??!!

Excerpt 1: Jaime had once given an unprompted lesson on lying during his time as her prisoner. You have to believe it, he’d said. If you believe what you say, so will the poor fool who hears it.

“My lord, you gave me a quest.”

That much was true, at least.

“The girl,” he said, understanding lighting up his face. “Have you found her?” He was hopeful, his smile nearly proud.

Believe what you say.

Believe what you say.

Believe what you say.

“I have.”

Please don’t believe me.

“Where is she?” Excerpt 2: “Patience, my lady,” he said.

“I’ve been waiting for you a long time, ser.” dream deep heavy sleeper (dream light heavy heart) - Quiet Isle time (and defying of the Isle's rules), including bed-sharing, hurt/comfort/healing, watching the one you love while they sleep, declarations, and sweetness.

Excerpt: For a moment, Jaime looked mildly chastised. It was such an unfamiliar expression to see on his face that she was almost disconcerted by it. Then he raised his chin, green eyes flashing, and it was gone again.

“So they would prefer you to be left alone in the height of your fever, wracked with pain and plagued by nightmares, calling for me so loudly I could hear you all the way over in the men’s cells? That does not seem especially kind to me.”

Brienne faltered, all her righteous anger gone in an instant. “I called for you?”

She remembered her fever dreams when they had first brought her to Stoneheart, how she’d cried out for Jaime to save her. The one-eyed man had called her the Kingslayer’s whore, and when she’d asked why, he’d said if I had a silver stag for every time you said his name, I’d be as rich as your friends the Lannisters. It had been embarrassing enough in front of the Brotherhood. The thought of Jaime hearing it was mortifying. She wanted to curl up and hide, like an insect under a stone that had been overturned.

But Jaime did not laugh, as she had half-expected him to. Instead his face was grave. “Aye, and the sound haunts me. I never should have sent you on that thrice-damned foolish quest.” Companion - This is a beautiful piece that explores Jaime and Brienne’s growing relationship through scenes involving food and drink.  Pears, oranges, and meat, oh my!  My description doesn’t do it justice -- it’s just so smart and so lovely!

Excerpt 1:

She finishes her meat, lifts the bowl with the remaining broth to her lips. A jerk on the rope around her middle makes her spill the liquid down the inside of her plate and, oh, she is going to drown him in the next stream.

Excerpt 2:

She turns to leave, grabbing the wine flagon as she goes.

“I was drinking that!” he protests.

“Notice how you said ‘was’ there?”

Excerpt 3:

A plate of unshucked oysters is the height of comedy. If Lord Selwyn ever stops fantasising about his violent death from behind a wine goblet, they’ll get along like ham and maggots. The way Brienne’s knuckles whiten around her goblet tells him she does not share his wry admiration of the starter course at Evenfall.

“This is how it’s going to be, is it?” she asks. delicate in every way but one - This is a great scene of Jaime asking Brienne to spar with him before she leaves King’s Landing and that subsequent spar.

Excerpt:

“No matter. You’re still the man you were before.”

He raised his stump at her. “I am very much not.”

“Do you not still serve to protect the King? To preserve the good of the people?”

Jaime didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. They both knew the truth of it well enough.

Second Hand News - This is a touching missing scene of Jaime bearing the burden of sharing the news of the Red Wedding and the death of Lady Catelyn with Brienne before they reach King’s Landing.  There’s protectiveness, wound concern, bed sharing, and honesty.  Oh, my heart!

Excerpt:

Jaime took in a breath and let it out carefully. He dropped the saddlebag onto the bed and then he sat, too. “I know that you have no reason to trust me,” he said. “But it is not… It is not nothing to me, what we have gone through together these last few weeks. You looked out for me when I could not look after myself.”

[agentrouka-blog]

Just like Nymeria pulled out dead Cat from river, Edric Dayne pulled out dying Beric from river. He fought besides the resurrected Beric. After Beric death he left the group who were following Lady Stoneheart. Do you think it is mirror to Arya arc?

Hi anon!

They do have these parallels, indeed!

"Yes." He did not sound very proud of it. "I was at the Mummer's Ford. When Lord Beric fell into the river, I dragged him up onto the bank so he wouldn't drown and stood over him with my sword. I never had to fight, though. He had a broken lance sticking out of him, so no one bothered us. When we regrouped, Green Gergen helped pull his lordship back onto a horse."

Arya was remembering the stableboy at King's Landing. After him there'd been that guard whose throat she cut at Harrenhal, and Ser Amory's men at that holdfast by the lake. She didn't know if Weese and Chiswyck counted, or the ones who'd died on account of the weasel soup . . . all of a sudden, she felt very sad. "My father was called Ned too," she said. (ASOS, Arya VIII)

He does mirror Arya to this extent, but if anything, he's a much lighter mirror. He saves a living man, he never had to kill, his resurrected leader is a noble man, not a vengeful instigator of mass killings. Arya feels that difference between them, when it comes to killing, very keenly.

I suspect Ned has a role that serves to connect several threads of foreshadowing.

His self-effacing, noble bearing and lack of pride in battle might foreshadow Arya's own turn away from wrathful violence, specifically in connection to the body Nymeria pulled from the river: her own mother Lady Stoneheart, Catelyn Stark.

Ned's quasi-Valyrian appearance, his Dornish background, and his journey far from the home of which he is Lord touch on Aegon VI.

The story of Beric's resurrection touches on Lady Stoneheart but likely also on Jon Snow.

This exchange above is immediately followed by the story of Jon Snow's "real mother" Wylla, wetnurse to Ned Dayne and Jon Snow both. For all we know, Aegon and Jon Snow were actually milk brothers, as well, for a brief time at Starfall, after the one was born and the other still an infant hidden there by Ashara. Ned also makes sure to bring up Ashara.

Wylla herself recalls Gilly, wetnurse to hidden heirs, center of lies. Ned's status as Jon's "brother" (not blood) suggests a potential mirror to someone like Samwell Tarly. Both of them might access relevant information in their current location of Oldtown.

He is not so dissimilar from Podrick Payne, either, squire to a noble fighter after saving Tyrion from death in a watery battle.

I suspect that Ned gives us a hint at events in a future timeline by connecting several threads.

Jon's parentage (and Ned's fidelity) will come to the forefront in a timeline connection to Arya, a rising prominence of Starfall and House Dayne, Lady Stoneheart and Jon post resurrection, a "brother" to Jon Snow and a wetnurse, Aegon VI, and Brienne and Podrick. And Arya's turn from the dark side.

Incidentally, we have Brienne and Podrick already mixed up with Lady Stoneheart, Aegon freshly arrived in Westeros, Arya approaching the end of her Braavos arc, Sam and Gilly setting up shop in Oldtown and Jon in a great position to experience some kind of "resurrection" by having been conveniently stabbed quite a bit.

A wonderful soup is cooking up in the South, and all we need is Arya to come and bring it all together.

[evax3]

what’s your opinion on parallels ppl like to draw?

like

sansa & lysa vs Sansa & Cat

Jon & rhaehar vs jon & lyanna

Aegon & Rhaehar vs Aegon & Elia

Dany & Aegon I vs Dany & Aerys

Arya & Lyanna vs Arya & Brandon

Sansa & Lyanna vs Sansa & Cersei

Arya & Cat vs Arya & Ned

Thanks so much for stopping by anon and for leaving this really cool question! I’m such a sucker for parallels and symbolism, so I do have a few opinions about these characters (Sansa, Dany and Jon under the cut – no opinions about Aegon) and had a lot of fun writing them down!! ❤️

Arya

What I really liked, and what stood out for me the most (in the show), is that after Arya accepted that she wasn't No One but indeed Arya Stark of Winterfell and came back to Westeros, she very much took on Ned's appearance. She gets dressed and wears her hair the same way Ned does, and shows confidentially that she takes right after her father, where her being the only one in the pack (beside Jon) who inherited the Stark-look (long face, brown hair, and grey eyes) wasn’t something she was actually proud of as a child. 

There are many more parallels between these two (the Baratheon friendship, the dislike of the southern culture and the people at court, their sense of loyalty, …) but what I like most is her understanding of the death sentence and how Arya has internalized Ned's teachings. The one who speaks the sentence must also carry out the killing. It is the opposite of what she is taught by the faceless men and in the end it is also one of the reasons why she realizes that she can never be truly No One. Which, I guess, is why she showed her face to every one of her kills that was on her list of names (at least in the show, but I'm sure it will be similar in the books).

I never thought much about the parallels to Lyanna, except that she also had the typical look from the north and was also much wilder than is expected for a noble-born woman. Probably it is one of the reasons why Ned encourages Arya’s nature instead of scolding her for it. But I think it says more about the relationship Ned had with either his sister and his daughter.

As for Cate I think the most striking parallel is probably their cunning. Which Sansa also inherited from her mother, and Ned unfortunately never managed to master, because he is too driven by honor. As women, all three are underestimated in this world, and yet (and perhaps because of this) manage to outsmart the men around them. For example, when Arya names Jaqen H'ghar as her third name in order to escape from Harrenhal, that was pretty damn clever and something that her mother would have done as well. 

Also, and sadly, their desire for vengeance is something that shapes and drives both characters (referring to Lady Stoneheart in the books) too. Because of that, I'm really curious if they will ever meet (if the next book ever gets published) and if there will be any revenge for Arya against the Frey's at all. 

Sansa

Just as Arya takes on Ned's appearance, Sansa does it with Catelyn's in the later seasons. I think this is particularly interesting because in the beginning, during her time in KL, she copied Cersei's hair and clothes, and later she copied Margaery’s. It shows her role models at each stage and it's particularly striking that at the end she takes on her mother's look, just as Cersei adapts that of her father Tywin. 

Even if the comparison between Arya and Lyanna is drawn much more often, I always found that Sansa and her aunt have much more parallels. The beauty of the two is something that is often highlighted in the story, emphasized, for example, as Rhaegar names Lyanna the queen of love and beauty at the tourney at Harrenhal, similar to Loras giving Sansa a rose at the Hand's tourney. I suspect that for both women this circumstance has led to their intelligence and other abilities being greatly underestimated, if not overlooked, in their very male-dominated world. 

Fortunately, Sansa has the chance to evolve into self-empowerment, which I think is the main focus of her journey, whereas Lyanna died way too early to achieve that. She was forced to marry a man she didn't want (Robert), (as was Sansa btw), so Lyanna saw the only way to prevent that in running away with Rhaegar. And I can imagine that early Sansa, the little romantic that she is, would have made a similar decision. 

I don't like that many say Sansa acts like Cersei in the later seasons because she admires her. I don't think that's the case at all. Cersei only acts out of self-interest (and sometimes, especially in the books, quite stupidly). Sansa, on the other hand, does what is right for her people. She combines her mother's strength with her father's understanding of the Northerners. 

She is cunning as Cate, which is not a bad quality per se, and develops an understanding when someone tries to manipulate her. At the same time, she always has the well-being of her people in focus, which Cersei definitely doesn’t. Which is why I think Sansa is a good queen and is just right to take Robb's place (the obvious choice if she were a man) and Cersei is absolutely terrible at her job.

Jon

I have to say, for Jon it’s almost the hardest to give an accurate answer, because the character (especially in the later seasons) differs a lot between book and show.  Regarding the show, I would say that Jon doesn’t have much in common with his birth parents, because he really is the reincarnation of Ned, the honorable fool, as he calls himself. Always trying to do the right thing, even if it goes against his heart’s desire.  

Rhaegar, on the other hand, does exactly the opposite in the plot for which we know him best. And even if his relationship with Lyanna is often categorized as incredibly romantic, it is one thing above all: selfish. Show!Jon couldn't be more the opposite.

Jon is a good leader, as Rhaegar was, or at least is praised to be. Both have melancholic tendencies, and at least book!Jon, has a tendency to sarcasm (at least in his thoughts) where it is said about Rhaegar , he often had an ironic undertone in his voice (according to Jaime)

Rhaegar is musical, interested in the fine arts, Jon doesn't really show interest in that. What they do have in common is a belief in something that is more than what the eye perceives. For Rhaegar this means believing in prophecies and such things, and Jon is not atheistic either, even if he lives out his beliefs in the Old Gods less than some other characters. Both of them are highly valued by their followers and I think also for both of them this is a quality that shapes their character a lot. 

Still, I have to say that for me the background of Rhaegar and Lyanna's relationship, the consequences especially for Elia and her children, but also for the whole country will always be in the spotlight.  

I've already read several metas that say book!Jon takes more after his birth father because his motives and actions are also less moral (e.g. only giving food to the people of the Free Folk who are willing to fight for the Night's Watch – a huge difference to the show version). Still, I would say Jon is more pragmatic than selfish, another area where Rhaegar would have needed to catch up if he’d been given the chance.

Daenerys

Whereas it was more difficult for me to think about Rhaegar's positive qualities in relation to Jon, I have to say that it was easier for me in relation to Dany. This might be because Daenerys is so frequently compared to Rhaegar as a compliment. Not only in her looks, but also with her intelligence, her determination and in the love that her people have for her. Ser Barristan calls him determined, deliberate, dutiful, and single-minded, all positive qualities that also apply to Dany.

As for Aerys, it's also hard to draw parallels. As I said in another post, I think the Targaryen madness is not really madness (being crazy) but more an obsession, whether it's about religion, dragons, or with Dany, her desire to liberate her people. What we know about Aerys, however, shows that he was indeed sick, paranoid, after his captivity. That is something different and not something I see or suspect with Dany. 

What I have found, though, are explanations about the young Aerys, which at some points apply to her:

In his youth, while not being the most intelligent, nor the most diligent of princes, he was described as having an undeniable charm. He was generous, handsome and resolute, although somewhat quick to anger. 

In the same paragraph, however, it is said that he was vain, proud, and fickle, qualities that made him easy prey for sycophants and sycophants. While Dany is proud, she quickly develops over the course of the story into a person who sees through the manipulation attempts of those around her and is clever enough to avoid them. 

There might be a possibility that through a traumatic experience (like for Viserys selling his mother's crown) her obsession finally drives her to take more drastic measures to achieve her goal. However, I think it's unlikely that Dany actually drifts into absolute madness like her father and burns down an entire city without thinking. She is much too reflective for that. Should she actually go completely ‘Fire and Blood’, then I think it will be a very conscious decision, rather than an impulsive one.

[raven-frost-21]

How am I supposed to fit that under name in legal documents?!

The beginning pt 3

YA KNOW. ORIGINALLY THIS WAS ALL ONE CHAPTER BUT WORD COUNT IS SHIT.

Stoneheart went down fast. Mylene and Ivan will be a couple. After the battle they all met up in Marinette’s room again.

“Okay. So, honestly besided Kagami and I, you all are terrible fighters. If we are gonna be heroes, you guys need to learn how to fight. The miraculous can only carry you so far. But first, hero names and what your Kwami’s name and animal is. I will go first. Ladybird and of course it’s Tikki and the ladybug.”

She looked at Kagami next. “Mizuchi, My Kwami’s Longg and the dragon.”

Jeluka went next. “Vixen, Trixx, Fox.” She spat out the words as fast as she could, even among friends she hated to talk.

“Tigress, Roaar, Tiger.” Rose said sweetly nuzzling the pink kwami.

“Dudettes you pick my name, honestly all I can come up with is Shell Dude. My dude over here is Wayzz and turtle.” It was quiet for a few minutes as they all tried to think of a name better than ‘Shell Dude’.

“SNAPPER!” Marinette and Adrienne yelled at the same time, “Jinx!” “Double Jinx!!” Marinette said with a smirk.

“Alright, Snapper, thanks dudettes. Adrienne practically vibrated with excitement when they looked at her, “Chatte Noire? Or maybe Lady Noire. Plagg, and the black cat to the ladybug.” Everyone looked at Marinette.

“Lady Noire, definitely Lady Noire, Adrikins. Chatte Noire is way too on the nose. Anyway, I am Wasp, Pollen and Bee.” Chloe draped herself over Marinette’s chaise and pouted.

“Marinette, why are you and Kags so amazing at fighting anyway?” Marinette and Kagami just looked at each other. “That’s a long story. Um, MAMAN, AUNT TOMOE COME UP HERE PLEASE?!?”

The five other teens sat in shock. “Wait so Sabine and Tomoe are Lady Cheng and Lady Gozen and your aunt is Lady SHIVA!! What the fuck?!” Everyone blinked in shock at Juleka.

Rose leaned over and stage whispered to Nino, “Wow, she yelled. Didn’t know she could physically do that.” That managed to break the tension and silence of the room as the teens descended into a fit of giggles. Until Sabine clapped.

“Now Marinette, Kagami. While I am proud of the two of you for realizing you need a support system, what are you going to do? We can track down the guardian and make him train you, and we can train you guys but are you going to call him?”

Both girls jumped and scowled at their mothers. “Maman! Of course, but he is supposed to be a secret!” Tomoe and Sabine laughed and left then. “Marinett-” A raised hand stopped Chloe. Marinette typed something into her phone and the rest of theirs buzzed.

‘Guys as much as I hate to do this, we can order the kwami. But we will only do it this once or I will kick all of your asses. Order your kwamis to stay with you in your pocket until we see the guardian’

Grumbling everyone followed their orders. Tikki looked at Marinette warily.

“Marinette, the guardian hasn’t deemed you ready! You aren’t even supposed to know each other's identities!”

“Tikki, I am so sorry, I hate to do this, but it’s better than Maman and Tomoe being the ones to find him, so Tikki I order you to take us to the guardian.”  Tikki sighed and flew to the trap door.

[galahadwilder]

It was like she was losing all control. But then again, when was the last time she had control of anything?

Broken Masks

Chapter 1: The Mortifying Ordeal

(For anyone who’s confused: I asked for two-sentence prompts back in either August or September. I’ve still got a few on reserve.)

*

“If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.” --Tim Kreider

Marinette looked out her window to the crowd of reporters gathered below and couldn’t hold back a whimper. So many people, all looking for her, to worship her or berate her or—it didn’t matter. They were all here for her. And she couldn’t escape them. Not anymore.

She felt gentle fingers wrap around her limp wrist. “Shhh, shh, shh,” her mother said, pulling her limp daughter into her lap on the chaise. Maman held her tightly, stroking her hair, tugging Marinette’s gravity blanket around their shoulders. “Don’t look, pumpkin,” she said as the old chaise squeaked under their combined weight. “Nobody here but us.”

“You’re going to be okay, Marinette,” Tikki said, nestled in her hair, earning another sidelong look from Maman, but the Kwami’s words were lost as Marinette’s breathing began to come in gasps.

Marinette felt like a baby, desperate for her mother’s arms, as the whole world tried to break down her front door. She wasn’t ready for this—it was like she was losing all control. But then again, when was the last time she had control of anything?

Normal girl with a normal life? She couldn’t believe she’d ever bought that lie.

Taking off the mask had always been easy. Two words and Ladybug would vanish, she’d drop off the face of the Earth and be replaced by average unremarkable Marinette, able to slip beneath notice, to take a break from all the overwhelming attention and the adoration. But that had just been the illusion of control—even with the mask off, she’d always been Ladybug, and all it would take was one slip-up and she’d never be able to take it off again.

With the mask separating her from the rest of the world, keeping her privacy, she hadn’t noticed when she’d become famous enough as Marinette that people had begun to watch her. Everyone looked at Ladybug. Being able to take off that face and become Marinette—she’d taken that for granted. She’d settled into her illusion of safety, and now it was gone. She’d never be “just Marinette” again.

But in the absence of her normal barrier, there were other ones—ones she could never have erected by herself. Her father’s whole family had come together for the first time since before the wedding, just to protect her: Mama Gina and Papa Roland had even managed to ignore their usual hatred of each other to agree that they could work together to make sure that nobody made it up the stairs. Her classmates had gathered into a makeshift wall between the reporters and the bakery doors; even if anyone did get into the shop, there was no way they could make it into her apartment with both Ivan and her father were sitting on the trapdoor, holding it down with their combined weight. (Ivan had insisted on protecting her personally. “I owe you for Stoneheart,” he’d told her.)

“We’re so proud of you, Pumpkin,” her father said with a sad smile, straining to reach out to her while trying to keep his full weight on the trapdoor in case someone had slipped past his parents downstairs. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

Her nerves began to squeeze in her wrists, shooting fire down to her fingers and up through her chest as she began to shake. Easy for him to say that everything was going to be all right; he wasn’t responsible for the safety of an entire city, he hadn’t just lost the only protection he’d had against a magical terrorist, he wasn’t… but she could see in his face, in the tightness hiding behind his mustache, how terrified he was, how he was trying to keep it together for her.

The babble of the crowd downstairs began to rise, pressing down onto her brain, and she curled closer to her mother with a whimper. Tikki cooed, scratching Marinette’s scalp with her paws.

Suddenly there was a shout, and all the sound outside stopped.

Marinette jerked upward, her eyes locked on the window. She couldn’t get an angle, couldn’t see the street—

Her mother swallowed. “Sweetie,” she said, “don’t look.”

Marinette didn’t listen.

She yanked herself out of her mother’s arms and shot up from the chaise, peering through her window to see the crowd parted around the familiar bald head of Alec Cataldi. His face was turned, a palm pressed to his cheek, and his expression—from what Marinette could see—was one of shock and pain.

It was easy to see why. Alya stood before him, towering over him despite their relative heights, her fist hooked just past Cataldi’s face, right where his cheek would have been. Marinette couldn’t see her best friend’s face but she knew that stance. If you touch my friend I will annihilate you.

Alec’s glare snapped toward Alya, the smile leaving his smug face for the first time in Marinette’s memory. He pointed at Alya, spat something angry and stupid. Looked around at the other reporters for… solidarity maybe?

Instead, Chloé stepped forward, right next to Alya, phone in hand, planting herself next to the other girl. The crowd parted before her—they all backed away, eyes down in shame, steadfastly avoiding looking at Alya.

Marinette’s gaze shot upward, peering into the blue sky, searching for violet specks across the azure. “Ivan,” she whispered, hugging her shoulders. “Can you… send Alya a thank-you text?”

Ivan perked up. “Why?” he said. “What’d she do?”

Marinette bit her lip as she turned back to the chaise. “She just punched Alec Cataldi.” She shouldn’t be laughing, she thought, climbing back into her mother’s lap. She was a superhero… but Cataldi’s particular lack of ethics and tact had put her through hell since the day he rigged the weathergirl contest. She couldn’t help feeling some satisfaction at knowing someone had finally made him feel consequences.

“Cataldi,” Papa snarled, pressing his palms to the trapdoor until his fingers went white. “I swear, that man has no sense of appropriateness. He’s caused more Akuma than—”

Ivan placed a hand on Papa’s forearm with a raised eyebrow, and Papa froze.

“We need to stay calm,” Ivan said, softly. “She’s in no condition to be fighting family right now.”

Papa swallowed. “Yes… right,” he said. “I… thank you.” He seemed to visibly deflate at the thought of not berserking on the abusive game show host.

“You know,” Mama cooed, “I bet if Ladybug complained you could get that man fired.”

Tikki hissed. “Marinette, no!”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t gonna,” she said.

She was tempted, though. The man should’ve known to stop humiliating people on air after the first time one of them got Akumatized, but he never really learned, did he?

“Stray cat strut, I’m a ladies cat,” her phone suddenly shouted from her desk.

Marinette’s stomach clenched, and she dove for it, her fingers scrabbling for her pink case as it continued: “I’m a feline Casanova, hey man that’s that.”

“It’s him.”

Papa’s head immediately swiveled. “Is he okay? Is he safe?”

“Get a shoe thrown at me from a mean old man, Get my dinner from a garbage can!”

Marinette stared at her phone, at the obnoxious face of Nyan Cat she’d put into “Chris Nicolas’s” phone contact to hide his identity, back when that still mattered. She hadn’t thought to change his contact picture yet. Should she—no, not the time. “He’s calling from the baton,” she muttered. That wasn’t a good sign. He was supposed to be talking to his father right now.

She should change his ringtone, too. “Shoe thrown at me by a mean old man”—couldn’t be more foreboding for this particular call if she’d tried. She shivered.

She answered the call. “Kitty?” she breathed. “Are you okay? Where are you?”

He laughed, but not Chat’s prankster laugh, or Adrien’s genuine sunshine one—this one was rueful, sad, broken. “Hiding on the Trocadero,” he said, his voice strangely muffled, like he’d stuffed cotton into his cheeks. “I—My Lady, I don’t think I can go back.”

Marinette swallowed as a shiver passed up her upper arms. She tried to force down tears—he didn’t need her to break down right now, he needed solutions.

“What happened?” she choked out.

“He tried to—” Chat’s voice broke. “To… take the ring. When I wouldn’t give it to him…” He sobbed. “He... he was so angry...”

Her heart rocketed into her throat, and the chaise squeaked under her legs as she shifted. No. “Chaton,” she said, “what did he do?”

“He threatened me. Said he’d throw me out.”

“You—” It couldn’t be. Even Gabriel wouldn’t—wouldn’t be so cruel. Could it? “Throw you out?”

Her father read the expression on her face and nodded. “We protect him,” he said to his wife with a determined set to his jaw. “With the number of times he’s saved her—”

“He stays here,” Maman agreed, softly but firmly.

Marinette squeezed her eyes and shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “This is the first place his father… or, or Hawkmoth, will look.”

“My Lady,” Chat said. “He—he hit me.”

“No.” Marinette’s fingers were shaking—only holding her phone to her face kept them from outright quaking. His voice—no wonder it sounded so strange... “Adri—Kitty, Chaton, Mon Minou, I’m so sorry, I’m—I’m—”

He gasped. “Butterfly,” he said.

The phone dropped from slack fingers. “Tikki!” she screamed. “Spots on!”

She didn’t have time to see her parents’ reactions before she’d launched herself from the chaise and out the skylight. She couldn’t even imagine what they must be feeling, must be thinking; seeing it on the news was one thing, but watching your daughter transform in the middle of her room from clumsy, anxious Marinette to the unstoppable Hero of Paris?

She heard screaming from the crowd down below as cameras caught her vaulting across the street. She was sure every newspaper and tabloid in Paris—except the Ladyblog—was going to have an original image from this moment by the end of the day, but she didn’t have time to care about that. Didn’t have time to think about anything else, just her partner, somewhere she couldn’t see, desperately scrabbling backwards away from the oncoming butterfly. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she raced toward him—

She found him on a roof, staring blankly at his clenched fist.

“I killed it,” he said, his voice cracking. One green pad was missing from his ring.

Her heart leaped at the sight, and she barely touched down on the roof before she collapsed into his arms, shivering.

After a moment of surprise, he pulled her in close. “I’m okay,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “I’m okay.”

Ladybug whimpered, shook her head. “Both our identities got blown to the entirety of Paris,” she said. “You—your father hurt you.”

“My Lady, I’m fine—”

“Adrien,” she interrupted, “you are allowed to not be okay.”

He stared for a moment, eyes wide and watering, before he collapsed into her, sobbing into her hair.

[dwellordream]

28 tywin/catelyn

In death, his lined, pallid face is waxen, his mouth swollen and blue, the veins of his mottled neck throbbing broken reddish purple. Stoneheart studies the corpse curiously, carefully, laid out on the slab of stone table. He seems just another frail old man, in death. Nothing special or striking about him.

The sleeting rains and winds have worn away whatever fine clothes he was wearing when the Brotherhood seized him, and any jewelry on him was pilfered and sold off for money for food or horses. She wishes they’d left any small part of it. She’d like to take a Lannister ring between her jagged, broken teeth, and bite down until it crumbled into dust. She’d like to throw his gold into the river, see how far the current carries it.

She traces his ugly blue mouth with a gnarled, blackened finger, the nail rotting away, leaving a thin trail of blood in its wake. She wonders if he toasted her boy’s death, when he heard. Or did he simply hide his smile, and congratulate himself on a job well done? Catelyn Tully was raised to believe in seven circles of hell. Lady Stoneheart calls upon them now.

Reynes, Tarbecks, Castameres, Martells, Targaryens, Mormonts, Umbers, Flints, Manderlys, and Starks, do they dine upon him now, hack his heart up for dinner with their feasting knives? Do their drowned and butchered children kick his head around under the table, play dice for who gets to nibble on his fingers? What songs are they singing?  And who are you, the proud lord said, that I must bow so low? Only a fish in a different coat, that’s all the truth I know. She raises his lax chin, and presses her cold mouth to his in a mocking kiss. Thinks she will make a necklace of his teeth, and cap each one in Lannister gold.