#if jon had allowed the desire for knowledge and understanding to consume him

[melandrops]

can someone explain to me why we hate jurgen leitner so much

[healieas]

i need to break this down into several posts because i do not have the attention span to get through all this in one go.

here’s the thesis: beholding is, in my opinion, one of the vaguest fears because of the role that agency plays in it. how people act when they are avatars of beholding, and how people become victims are beholding, and the cannibalization of beholding’s servants by the eye itself ( you thought you were gonna get a tma powers horror post without cannibalization as a theme you thought ) are all completely different things.

what we’re going to be covering: the drive of a beholding avatar to know directly contradicts the fear of being known of the victims and thusly it preys on them -- but there is an element, i think, in all beholding avatars of not really wanting to confront the self. even beholding avatars whose defining feature is seeking out knowledge and truth will not sit comfortably with the truth that is in the mirror, which is what opens them up to the aforementioned eye cannibalism.

jonah has his mortality: he will not accept being contained to a human lifespan, being something that could fade with time, or become obsolete; i think about stories of the impossibly beautiful who lock themselves in their private rooms, disseminating the image of pristine youth and desirability, but the moment the glamour drops, you discover that it was a corpse all along; i think of elizabeth i’s pockmarked face slathered with white lead paint as she sat in her fifties for her portrait as the virgin queen, the toxins seeping into her skin, draped in pearls to represent innocence, one in place of henry viii’s codpiece because she was impenetrable, everlasting, pure, and the way this image was intentionally spread as propaganda, making a forever-icon of her in the english cultural imagination. elias fears every single power, the buried as the grave, the corruption as rotting flesh and terminal illness and losing identity, the dark as the unknown, the desolation and its destructive power and self-consumption, the flesh as the mangling of the body, the stranger as a lack of recognition of the self, the hunt as being pursued and destroyed, the slaughter as unpredictable violence done unto him, the vast signifying his meaninglessness, the web maneuvering him someplace he does not want to be, the lonely and being forgotten or deemed unimportant, and the end for the cessation of existence; elias is a coward and immortality is his escape, he fears pain and he fears non-existence and he fears fear -- to be known as mortal would undue him, it is a truth ( and beholding cannot feed off of what is not true ) that he denies, perhaps the greatest truth of all: that all things must come to an end. the fact that elias’s true form is an eyeless withered corpse hooked up to a throne? everything to me.

jon is, of course, in denial about what he is and his situation, and this is prevalent in every season: he adopts skepticism as a failsafe against “making” what he’s reading a reality, he allows himself to be consumed with paranoia towards his coworkers even though literally all signs point to elias, he continues reading statements even when he recognizes that something is terribly wrong, etc. etc. etc. and don’t misunderstand me, jon is valid! jon is completely understandable in everything that he does! he does not have the omniscience of the listener! he is in the thick of it! but then we get season 5 and, again, jon isn’t being honest with himself -- both in trying to avoid being the avenging angel of the apocalypse and in blaming himself too much for what’s happened. he’s the most honest we’ve ever seen him, he’s finally admitting that he’s an avatar and that he relates to other avatars, but he’s swung fully around to being too harsh with himself; and berating yourself doesn’t make you good or right, it doesn’t fix the problem, it’s just self-flagellation to no end, guilt that’s indulgent without a solution ( this is why it’s a damn good thing martin’s there but again... jon is valid in wallowing, it’s a perfectly reasonable reaction and he has his flaws and we applaud him for being a well-rounded character ).

this abject fear that the two of them have ( because it is fear, that’s where the refusal is coming from; confronting what you are is extremely difficult, learning the truth about yourself and being honest about your motivations and your actions without falling either into self-deprecation aka jon or self-aggrandizement and absolution aka jonah is really fucking hard! ) opens them to being preyed upon by beholding and by each other. eye bitches love to think of themselves as removed and above it all, logic warriors of the fear world, but they are so weak to one another and being seen for what they are that elias had to remove himself from jon’s presence for an entire season just to ensure that jon wouldn’t pick up on anything about his plan ( which is intrinsically bound to jonah’s fear and self-image ). eye avatars getting into a fight is probably such a raw experience for those involved and super boring for anyone watching who isn’t subscribed to at least three tea spill channels on youtube. if you are then it’s the most captivating shit you’ve ever seen.

conclusion: yes, eye avatars do work that opens up victims of beholding to being fed on, but they have limitations when it comes to that pursuit that opens them in turn to being consumed. yes eye avatars Want to Know at times to their own detriment because the act of their uncovering secrets and making people feel exposed feeds the eye, but they are simultaneously some of the least likely people to want to be exposed and revel in their own secrets and dishonesty towards themselves.

[leavyes-a]

meta on media consumption as beholding, and the creation of the conservator role, based on conversations with @hdtvtits​. content warning, as always, for addiction, compulsive / obsessive behavior, aggressive hoarding, and implied terminal illness, all of the eldritch variety. also allusions to real-life hollywood dramas, though nothing remotely specific is discussed in this post.

foreword: this is just the first part of a bunch of meta i’ll likely end up posting on why levi is what they are and why their beholding manifests the way it does, because like... for secrets and the underbelly of film production i have a lot to say but a lot to source as well. but there are a few things i want to address in this post, namely: what the eye feeds off of, whether or not levi is feeding the eye in their media consumption ( and how ), and how it ultimately serves the eye’s purposes to have this be levi’s method of feeding. this probably won’t even be my last post on the subject as i keep sort of logicking out the way that beholding works and how it can manifest. it’s important to me though that it exist and function outside of just what happens in the institute ( which is proven in the statements ), mostly because fear entities are global and primal and jonny said that the story really is britain-centric. now, media consumption isn’t particularly groundbreaking; it addresses a more american culture, but that’s still western-centric and sort of ‘typical’ of europe and america, though i will say that european filmmaking as an institution is... different. it has its own history and quirks. hollywood is its own beast. someday i’ll make a post on levi’s judaism and how that interacts with beholding and manifests as more than their aesthetic, because they haven’t even used their ayin hara on this blog yet though it’s a ( minor ) power they possess, but that deserves its own post. ANYWAYS. with that said.

what does the eye feed off of? the eye doesn’t just function based off a primal fear, it has a drive that it imbues its servants with: “it is the manifestation of the fear of being watched, exposed, followed, of having secrets known, but also the drive to know and understand, even if your discoveries might destroy you.” i think that most of the entities function in a similar way, with the things they inspire and feed off of on the one hand, and avatars with a desire to evoke that fear in the other; i.e., avatars create food to feed their entity, and if they don’t, the entity devours them instead. that’s pretty basic knowledge. ( i also have stuff to say about entities consuming themselves because every time claire says autocannibalism i go absolutely hog wild about it but that’s for another day. ) there are, then, multiple ways that an avatar can go about gathering fear for its entity, but what sets the eye apart from others, i believe, is that it doesn’t need to directly cause the fear it consumes -- though i think that it finds the fear of being watched more filling than just watching other people be afraid, it can still ‘survive’ off of that. this is where eye shit starts to get confusing and it’s why these posts are so longwinded and involve me talking myself in circles, because the eye both has a specific fear that it’s linked to and can devour other people’s experiences of fear that it did not cause, yes even before the apocalypse. that’s just how jon feeds for the majority of the series. for a good long while, he’s not going out and getting statements himself; and even when he does, he’s double dipping on both the fear they convey to him about their experiences ( knowledge gained ) and the fear that this man is pulling information out of them ( secrets exposed ). 

but that’s jon and we’re not talking about jon, we’re talking about levi, and my ever-evolving thesis on voyeurism in / and media. 

so what does an eye avatar need to do, exactly, to eat? it needs to accumulate knowledge, that’s the baseline that it can survive off of -- knowledge of the other entities is best, but i don’t know that it’s a requirement... and i don’t know if it’s not! i am going to make the call that eye avatars can survive off of just hoarding information because the eye isn’t super picky and wants to know everything anyways, but not feeding off of fear for a long time is going to leave the avatar really weak. and for an eye avatar to develop its powers and grow, it needs to take statements directly, or else give other people the distinct feeling of being observed against their will. the more people it feeds off of as a result of its own actions, the more powerful it becomes. that said, i don’t think this is common, which is why watchers ( heads of institutes ) have set up these systems where they’re generating food for themselves on two axes simultaneously: fear of people who give statements, and fear of people who have to work at their institutes ( either taking statements or working directly under the eye ). that just sort of accumulates power upwards within eye bureaucracies, though the archivists who take and sort the statements are also going to become remarkably powerful if they lean into their role.

( also side note: these systems work for the english, american, and chinese institutes, but there are ways for beholding avatars to thrive outside of them, and again someday i’m going to post about oral traditions and the ability to craft stories in different regions of beholding that feed the eye. but i need to do research first and we’re talking about levi! )

here’s the thing... levi is not an archivist. levi is not powerful. levi does not have a strong connection to beholding. they worship it, but fanaticism does not equal feeding, sadly, and the role they’ve been given is not one that pushes them to go and gather statements for themselves. they have taken read and statements at afi, because wyatt was raising them into an avatar, but, though conservators and archivists can overlap in the real world, they ( in my word of god for this blog’s canon and the monster i made up ) are two very different things under the eye. essentially, conservators serve archivists ( and watchers ) by witnessing, recording, and playing back statements that archivists can then maneuver through. the more experienced the conservator, the more they can shift the camera, allowing the archivist to comb through statements in detail and pull the knowledge that they want from them. remember that the beholding grants knowledge, not understanding, and while that may be fine for the eye, sometimes its ‘human’ servants need to put the pieces together in order to advance its plans.

the conservator is a relatively new position within beholding, because it does function like a film camera. i think that, in other times, places, and cultures, there were similar avatars who filled a similar role, but it wasn’t the same. the conservator really is a miskatonic / american experiment to help the institute delve into the information it already possessed. for one example of how conservators are useful, consider what happened with sasha: the archivist had his voice recordings of her, because it can’t effect magnetic tape, but jon the person still had her wiped completely from his memory. that wouldn’t happen to a conservator, because all of their memories are converted into (meta)physical tape stock. they are a lockbox that cannot be opened or altered unless you’re a more powerful beholding avatar. ( the limitation here is that they only have so much storage space, they will need to expunge some memories to store more; though those memories can be kept in physical containers, film stock obviously degrades and is a very unstable and extremely flammable medium; their body will also internally decompose to make room for more data and that is a painful process that eventually renders the conservator just a storage without any ability to function beyond sitting still and replaying witnessed / read events. )

we’ve established that levi feeds normally. they take statements, they are present in an archive, they’re hearing the scary stories. finally, finally on to why levi consumes media and how levi consumes media, because the one is intrinsically linked to the other. let me start by saying that just watching television or films does not a beholding avatar make. yes you are watching, but the distinction is in whether you are passively or actively viewing. and the power that is drawn from someone zoning out and being addicted to passively consuming media does not go to the eye. that is neither a fear of being observed ( for the one watching or for the actors / writers, because nobody is going to care about an audience that doesn’t form an opinion at all beyond basic emotional reactions; uncritical consumers are milk and honey to them ) nor a pursuit of knowledge ( passively accepting knowledge is, according to elias, far less effective in raising up eye avatars than letting them learn to ‘see’ on their own ). all that power goes to mx media ( @hdtvtits​ ) or, if you don’t like crossovers, Just Definitely Not the Eye. it’s when you start performing analysis that the eye takes interest -- which is why the eye continues to thrive in academia ( au where i write meta on just how bad that gets, historically, but again there are things we don’t get into until we research thoroughly ). the more you lose yourself in compiling information, to the exclusion of everything else, the more you appeal to beholding. and when you start unveiling secrets, which there are plenty of in film and film production, things kept private from the audience, ‘movie magic’, then feeding can begin.

this may come as a surprise, but levi does not have a response to whether or not they ‘like’ movies. if you ask them, ‘did you enjoy that movie?’ they will not say ‘yes’ or ‘no’, they will just start launching into ripping it apart. levi probably started out enjoying movies recreationally, but at some point, they became not just unwilling to but incapable of watching films without analyzing -- and what separates this from normal people who are conscientious and engaged viewers is that this is a mania that spans hours. their ‘digestion’ of a film is obsessive and has a physical component because it is eldritch in nature. i can’t stress enough that levi isn’t just a pretentious film buff who says ‘oh i can’t consume media for pleasure or uncritically’, though they may have been at some point in their college career! they have a physical and metaphysical makeup that drives them to frenzy over what they watch. the instant they finish a film, they’ll begin a rapid accumulation of knowledge of anything they can dig up: the who, what, when, where, why, how. if they do have an emotional response, it’s incredibly removed, and their way of processing it is to drill into how and why the film made them feel that way. 

if they try to avoid this step in the process -- if they just watch a movie, turn it off, and attempt to go to bed -- they will start to weaken immediately. watching the movie isn’t enough for feeding. if it was, the eye wouldn’t take any interest at all. it’s the genuinely out-of-control driving impulse to keep researching and researching until there is nothing left about a piece of media that isn’t known, shredding through academic papers and script drafts and director’s notes and interviews and everything they can get their hands on, that stems from and feeds beholding. they do not settle for what is put on the screen. they will even cold call creators in a fit and try to get them to talk about the production ( which is, yes, invasive -- beholding is an eldritch entity, it is not healthy or good and does not inspire healthy or good habits! ). 

they may not even be capable of enjoying a piece on its own merits; it’s all about the world it opens up to them, it’s about stuffing themselves with information until they can’t breathe and overstimulate and pass out. then recovery from that can take days as they process what they learned and sort it all out in their mind. they don’t really do much with this information; just knowing it is enough. if an archivist or watcher wants to take action about it, they can ask levi to spit it back up for them. but ultimately, despite the impact that this has on their health, this is still low-level feeding for a low-level avatar. unless it’s a truly gruesome movie or has an exceptionally shady production background, it’s not really the fear that the eye is looking for. levi is feeding one half of beholding, the half that wants them to consume knowledge and secrets. if levi didn’t take / read statements as well, or go out and witness live horrific events, they would probably starve -- their body would eat itself processing knowledge.

and i will talk about the component of parasocial relationships, anxiety that stems from being an actor / director / content creator in general and having your work and your image spiral out of control as it’s ripped apart and dissected by consumers, because that is beholding territory as well. it’s just not actually what levi does, but because it relates to the media-beholding relationship, i’ll have it on this blog.

[jonsastan]

A Week of Jonsa - @incorrectjonsansa

Day 1 -

You look like a movie, you sound like a song

.

Jonsa Pride and Prejudice Au.

Sansa smiled at Arya’s scowl as she’s whisked around the dance floor. Arya was annoyed at the amount of gentlemen who had asked for her hand in a dance. She should be complimented. At this dance ladies greatly outnumbered gentlemen. Robb and their new neighbour, Daenerys Targaryen, danced past Sansa, Robb smiling as he made Daenerys laugh. They would be a good match. She was the sister of some southern Lord and Robb was the heir to their father’s estate. A good match, as her mother kept insisting.

After a turn about the room, Sansa found herself near Daenerys’ quiet nephew, Jon. After a moment Daenerys came to her nephew.

“Come now Jon! I must have you dance! You cannot hang out in this stupid manner.”

“You know I do not enjoy dancing, especially with someone who I am not well acquainted with.” Jon replied.

“Look, there! That’s one of Mr Stark’s sisters! She extraordinarily beautiful, dance with her.” Daenerys was gesturing to Sansa, but Sansa made no sign that she could hear them.

“She is tolerable, I suppose.” came the cold voice of Jon Targaryen. “But not handsome enough to tempt me. Go, enjoy the charm of Robb Stark, your enthusiasm is wasted on me.”

Sansa suppressed a smile. Many would be insulted by this stranger’s harsh words but Sansa found amusement at this southern lords high handedness. She made her way calmly past him toward Arya, who was sitting out, to tell the joke.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was with the greatest annoyance that Sansa allowed Jon Targaryen to be announced to her. She had begged off visiting his Father and Daenerys’ Brother, Rhaegar, but was now trapped with the more brooding of the two Targaryen sons.

He entered and began to converse about banal topics of her health and the weather, before kneeling before her.

“In vain I have struggled, it will not do. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” His voice began strong and assured, but soften at the end of his sentence. His grey eyes stared at hers and she felt her heart clench.

When he continued, she felt rage rise within her.

“Despite the history between my family and yours, despite the behaviour of your brothers and sister and even your father, despite the disparity between our stations in life, I wish to marry you.”

Sansa took a deep breath and rose from her seat, moving away from him and his emotive eyes.

“If I could feel gratitude now, I would thank you. But I cannot—I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. Please forgive me if I have given you any cause to believe that my affections were engaged or your to be encouraged, it was unconsciously done.” Her hands were clenched, her anger boiling beneath her cool exterior.

He moved to the mantle and took a breath. His eyes were filled with anger, confusion, pain.

“And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected.” His voice burnt with anger.

“I might enquire with so little attempt to hide your own disdain for my character, family, and station you resolve to tell me you like be against your will! Was this not reason enough for any perceived incivility?” She snapped, turning to face him, her fists still clenched at her side. “Had my feelings toward you been neutral or even favourable, even those feelings would have died when you stole the happiness of a most beloved brother? And what of your crimes against Gendry Waters? Do you deny that you have revealed in his misfortune, in the scandal of his birth?”

“Yes, his misfortune. It is great indeed.” Jon all but scoffed.

“And now you ridicule him!”

“And this is your opinion of me?” Jon strode toward her, stopping mere inches from her person. “My faults by your calculation are great indeed, but perhaps they would not be so foul had I not insulted your pride by acknowledging the failings of your family or your status. Perhaps if I had flattered you, hidden my misgivings and lied about them you would have felt differently, But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence!”  He all but spat at her.

“You are mistaken, Mr Targaryen, if you believe the mode of your address could have affected my answer in any way. You have merely saved me any worry I might have felt at rejecting you had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner. I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments or renewal of those offers which were last night so disgusting to you. I merely wish to clarify some of the egregious charges laid before me by you.

You first charged me with the destruction of happiness of a most beloved brother. I had not been in Winterfell long when I saw, along with others, Daenerys’ preference to your brother above all others. I watched and observed their interactions and whilst Mr Robb Stark showed polite deference and cordiality to Miss Targaryen, I saw no unique favour or love. So to save a most beloved family member pain and heartache I separated the two.

If I was mistaken in my understanding of your brothers feelings, I apologise heartily and completely. I can offer the only defence that if the feelings between our two family members had been as powerful and consuming as you believe, a mere separation would not have hindered them.

The second charge you laid before me was my treatment of Gendry Waters. I will not deny that I have not acted to aid Mr Waters in his path in life, nor do I intend to. His family, having been closely entwined with my own, disgraced themselves thoroughly when they attempted to steal property, assets, and titles with a selfish motive. I have revealed in the bastard nature of Mr Waters birth when I was younger, and whilst I can see how this is an immature means of gloating, I cannot feel sorry for this. Mr Waters has shown himself to be a man of trade and mean understanding. He does not attempt to rise above his birth and better himself but will rely on the sympathy and pity of others. This behaviour is abhorrent to me.

If you have any doubts about the truth of the history between my family and Mr Waters, or the personal history between myself and that man, you may apply to my brother for a complete narrative. Although we have clashed and been at odds, I have always been honest with you.

I will end by saying I mean you no ill will and wish you all the best in your life.

Gods Bless and keep you.

Jon Targaryen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And to think, I could have been mistress of all this.” Sansa sighed as she took in the extensive and beautiful grounds of Dragonstone. There was a range to please all, manicured lawns, neat and tidy gardens, and a kind of rugged wilderness that reminded Sansa of Winterfell and the North.

She had met Jon Targaryen there. It was a complete accident and at first, Sansa thought, a complete misfortune. He was drenched from an impromptu swim in his pond, and she was flustered, not wanting him to think she was vying for his attention. But as she had attempted to make her hurried escape, he had found her and invited her parents to stroll with him around the gardens. He had offered her kindness, and thoughtfulness, he had talked with her parents, discussed the present state of politics with her father and chatted knowledgeably about gardens with her mother.

They had been staying near Dragonstone for a couple of days, a tentative friendship being cultivated between Jon and herself, when the letter came from Robb. Arya had run off with Gendry Waters and Robb didn’t know where she had gone.

Jon had found her when she had read the letter. He had offered her support and care, sending for her parents, and then he’d left. And her heart ached. Ached for her sister, who may be lost, ached for her parents, and the worry they would suffer, ached for Jon Targaryen and the love that would never be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arya had returned from Kings Landing, as Arya Waters. Gendry had never had any ignoble intentions. He’d wanted to stay at Winterfell and plead with their parents to allow Arya to marry him. Arya had not wanted to wait, had not wanted permission. She wanted to marry Gendry and she had.

Her parents had been displeased and worried, having travelled half the countryside to find the couple before a scandal could emerge, but finally Gendry and Arya had turned up in the Vale as Mr and Mrs Waters.

It wasn’t until Arya was back in Winterfell and attempting to settle her life that she spoke of Jon.

“And Mr Targaryen was most kind once Gendry explained how he did not want to have anything to do with the Baratheons and their ridiculous attempt to-”

“Mr Targaryen?” Sansa interrupted. Arya nodded.

“He was at our wedding. He helped get Gendry capital to start the forge and offered to aid any venture Gendry would like to have in the south. He thought Gendry wanted to take over where Robert Baratheon had left off, but Gendry told Mr Targaryen that he had no such plans, he wanted to work hard and honestly and Mr Targaryen seemed to approve.”

“Mr Targaryen helped you wed? Helped Gendry raise capital?” Sansa felt all the breath leave her lungs. Her heart swelled at the generosity, the empathy, the open mindedness that Jon Targaryen must have shown to approach and aid Gendry and Arya, her heart shuddered at the thought that he was exposed further to the scandal and unconcern her family showed to society.

“He was most kind. He also mentioned that Daenerys and himself might be returning to the neighbourhood soon.” Sansa’s heart leaped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I will not have it Miss Stark, I will not.” Rhaegar Targaryen had spoken with a frank and almost callous manner. “Jon has been promised to his Martell cousins since birth. It was his grandfather’s greatest wish. You are not his equal in either status or breeding and I will not have it!”

“Excuse me sir! To what are you referring?” Sansa snapped, her blood boiling, her voice cooling.

“This preposterous rumour that you have engaged yourself to my son. I will not have it Miss Stark. It is impossible. Jon is man of breeding and status-”

“He is a gentleman, I am a gentleman’s daughter, thus far was are equal.” Sansa stood tall, determined not to be intimidated by this man.

“But you do not deny it! You do not deny that you are attempting to ensnare my son!”

“You yourself have declared such a union impossible!”

“Do you deny it? Are you engaged to my son?” Rhaegar’s face was turning an alarming shade of red.

“No.” Sansa said, her voice firm, her heart aching a little at the truth.

“And can you promise me to never engage yourself to him?” Rhaegar's colour was beginning to fade.

“No.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robb had wasted no time once Daenerys Targaryen had resumed residence around Winterfell. He had called on her and Jon and asked for her hand in marriage. It was a most joyous occasion. In the days following Sansa found herself in the company of Jon an awful lot, but never alone. She wished to thank him for the service he had rendered to her family.

Finally, as Robb and Daenerys strolled in front of them Bran said he was going to go and visit with Meera and Jojen Reed, leaving Jon and Sansa to chaperone the engaged couple.

It was a moment before Sansa mustered up the courage to speak.

“Mr Targaryen, I am a selfish creature and as such will give myself relief, even it means exposing you to embarrassment.” She dared not look at him, at those grey eyes that seemed to know her very being. “Thank you, for you assistance in securing the happiness to one beloved sister and one beloved brother. You have done my family a great service. Thank you sir.”

“If you must thank me, let it be for yourself alone.” She stopped and looked at him. His voice was tender, vulnerable. “As much as I have come to admire and respect your family, I believe I thought of you alone.” Her breath hitched in her breast and her heartbeat so loudly she was sure he could hear it. “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.” His eyes suddenly would not meet hers. He stared at his feet.

“My affections have changed so much since then. They are now quite opposite.” Jon’s head snapped up, his eyes meeting hers. They were filled with such joy, such hope, such love that Sansa could not help the giggle that seemed to overflow from her lips. She turned from him, not trusting herself to not act in a manner most compromising and attempted to uncover the evolution of his feelings.

“How did you know my feelings were not the same?” She asked.

“My father.” He chuckled at this. “He was most displeased after his attack upon you. When he told me you refused to promise never to engage yourself to me… It taught me to hope, as I had never hoped before.”

Sansa let her fingers brush his and before she realised what she’d done, their hands were entwined.

“But how did you begin?” She asked, not acknowledging their clasped hands as they walked. “I can see you continuing charmingly once you had fallen, but I cannot grasp or comprehend a beginning.” She teased.

“I cannot fix upon the hour, or the spot, or the look that laid the foundation. I was in the middle before I knew I had begun.” He murmured, his voice full of emotion and tender care. Sansa closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the sweet words that her love had whispered to her and her alone. “And what of you? When did your feelings alter so drastically?”

Unable to resist teasing him she replied “Upon seeing the grounds of Dragonstone.” Jon laughed and Sansa decided she wanted to hear that sound everyday for the rest of her life.

[vivilove-jonsa]

Photo Prompt Game

This is for the photo prompt game started by @jonsa-creatives in which you can write a story or create something based on random picture prompts.  Since you are allowed to use one, two or any number of the pics for the creation, I decided to use the top two photos and wrote the following short fic.

                          The spring morning was the warmest Jon had known so far. He left the castle behind and headed to the godswood seeking the Lady of Winterfell. His fair cousin had broken her fast alone for a change and Brienne had said he might find her there.

Sansa often sought the peace of the godswood since they had reclaimed their home. And now that spring had returned and the war was over, Jon normally joined her there. She did not seem to mind his brooding company in the quiet beside the ancient Weirwood. In fact, Sansa often brought out the smiles that he struggled with in the company of others.

Jon passed Lord Baelish in the courtyard and grumbled under his breath. The man started to speak to him, to ask him if he’d seen Sansa this morning but Jon hurriedly brushed him off with a grunt. He did not like him and did not like that he was still here but they had not managed to run him off yet.

He entered the ancient wood and felt a sense of ease and wonder wash over him. This was a Stark place and though he was only half a Stark, it was part of him and his place, too.

He was nearly to the hot spring by the heart tree when he heard the sound of splashing and a woman’s soft laughter. Perhaps Sansa was not there alone...but who would be with her? And, why would there be splashing?

Jon crept more quietly towards the pool when he saw Ghost raise his head from the water’s edge and look his way, his ears perking up and his red eyes glowing.

His own eyes widened and his jaw dropped when he saw her. Beautiful Sansa, apparently wearing nothing but a thin shift in the water. She stood in the water and beckoned Ghost to join her but his direwolf snorted and whined from the bank.

“Coward,” she teased as she stood and splashed water his way again. Her shift was stuck to her curves like another skin and Jon could see everything through it. Her red hair was plastered against her neck and shoulders. Her back was to him and her rounded bottom was perfectly outlined by her shift.

He darted behind the nearest tree, his cheeks flaming. He felt more like a green boy spying on a maid than a king happening upon his cousin’s moment of solitude.

Go back the way you came. She will be mortified is she knows you’re here.

He did not leave though...not right away. He peeked around the tree and stifled a gasp when he saw she had turned his direction. Her firm teats and darker nipples were visible through the shift and between her legs Jon would swear he could make out the patch of red hair that covered her sex.

He ducked behind the tree once more and closed his eyes. He groaned involuntarily as he felt his cock stir with interest.

Gods, stop looking. Go back now.  

He heard the padding of footsteps growing closer.

“Ghost!” Sansa called. “Where are you going? Jon would want you to watch over me.”

It was true. He had told Ghost to watch over her whenever he was not there.  Leaving her during the war had been so hard. He could barely breathe at the thoughts of her coming to any harm.  But now his old friend was about to expose him.

“No, Ghost,” he hissed under his breath. He swatted his hand towards wolf. “Go on. Go back to her,” he begged.

Ghost’s head tilted to the side, observing him but he seemed to understand at last. He turned and trotted back to Sansa.

Jon could hear her girlish giggles ringing in his ears and more splashing. He took the opportunity to turn and flee. The sound of her laughter and the sight of her nearly naked form haunted him the rest of the day and all night.

A fortnight had passed since Jon had happened upon his lovely cousin bathing in the godswood. And since then, life had been a torment to him.

He had known her to be beautiful long before that day. He had known that he loved and cared for her, that he was extremely protective of her as well. He had threatened more than one man on her behalf. What cousin who still considered himself her brother in a way wouldn’t do the same? Perhaps he became a bit extreme in his reactions at times. But then he could always tell himself it was because Sansa had suffered so much. She needed protecting he told himself...even if she claimed she didn’t.

Now though, Jon realized that the way he felt for her went beyond the blood bond of a loving cousin and beyond the bond of what he felt for her when he’d thought of her as a sister. His feelings for her were those of a lover. They'd been creeping up on him subtly without his knowledge for a long time now.  He had lived in denial as long as he could but he could not lie to himself any longer.  He wanted her.  He wanted to be her lover.  He loved her. He wanted to be her husband. Gods, he wanted that.

For a fortnight, Jon avoided the godswood though, too afraid of saying anything that might jeopardize the happy partnership that they enjoyed as the King in the North and the Lady of Winterfell.

It was hard enough in the Great Hall, in his solar or in the yard to pretend he felt nothing but cousinly affection for her.

But something about the godswood...the heart tree...well, a man could not lie before the heart tree and Jon feared all his feelings would come spilling from his lips if he met her there now.

Unfortunately, Sansa seemed to spend more and more time there. He missed her company. He missed her.

As the days passed, Jon could not bear it any longer. He could no longer hide what he felt. He worried that he might hurt her or offend her if she knew how he desired her but he couldn’t hide away from her and his feelings forever.

Another warm morning dawned and Sansa was absent from the hall when Jon came down to break his fast with her.

“I think she’s in the godswood, Your Grace,” Brienne said when he inquired after her.

Jon hurried from the keep, eager to seek her out, burning with the need to unburden his heart and soul even if she chose to spurn him. He didn’t even pause to consider how inappropriate it might be to approach her there until he was halfway across the courtyard.

What are you planning to do? Declare your feelings for her while she’s at a disadvantage, nearly naked in the pool while you stand there leering at her?  

He couldn’t do that.

He paused outside the stables and saw Ghost chewing on a large haunch of venison. It looked as though the butcher had prepared if for him though Jon was not sure why. Ghost usually found his own meals away from the castle.

“What’ve you got there, boy?” he asked.

The direwolf raised his head for the briefest of moments before he returned to his meat.

“Lord Baelish has a man bring choice cuts for your wolf, milord,” the butcher’s boy said. “Says he wants to make friends with him.” The boy winked conspiratorially at Jon and whispered, “I think he’s afraid of him.”

“He should be,” Jon answered as an uncomfortable sense of worry began to uncoil in his belly.

She’s alone then.

Jon looked back at Ghost.

“How long as Lord Baelish been making these offerings?”

“Nearly a fortnight, Yer Grace.”

Jon thanked the lad and headed straight towards the godswood, no longer concerned about anything but her safety.

I’m probably worrying for nothing. She’s likely just sitting there beneath the tree. If so perhaps she will not mind my company...and perhaps I can tell her how I feel. And if she’s bathing, I’ll apologize and retreat.

He entered the silent wood but the sense of ease he often felt there did not come to him now. Generations of leaves covered the floor of the godswood silencing his footfalls. In the distance, he could hear soft laughter and splashing again. He hesitated for just a moment. He could just turn around but a feeling of dread made him continue on.

I will only check that she’s alright and then leave before she even knows I’m there. She deserves her privacy and time alone. I will not intrude.  

But she was not alone.

Crouched behind the tree where Jon had watched in fascination and shame fortnight ago stood Petyr Baelish. He was watching Sansa splash in the pool...and she was not aware of it.

A spark of rage ignited in Jon’s breast and consumed him in the blink of an eye. No rational thought could pierce the fog of hate Jon felt for this man. He already loathed him for the role he’d played in Sansa’s misfortunes and abuse. But now, a beast born of wrath was awakened as he watched Baelish watch her bathe without her knowledge or consent.

A strangled yelp was all that Baelish got out as Jon pinned him bodily against the tree by his throat. He squeezed and squeezed as he bore holes into Baelish with his eyes. Baelish’s eyes were wide with fright and he made a sickening sound, a gurgling, choking sound. Jon’s hand only tightened on his throat.

“She’s not yours to look at,” he growled.  "She's not yours to watch."

Baelish was struggling to free himself, his hands were clawing at Jon’s. But as the seconds ticked by, he was weakening. He was dying.

“Jon!” Sansa cried from behind him.

He didn’t want to stop. He kept his eyes focused on the older man. He reveled in watching those eyes start to dim.

I will kill him. It’s no more than he deserves. She’s not yours to watch.

But a soft and tentative touch at his elbow, a whisper of his name tickling his ear was all it took. The beast bowed its head and Jon released the man before him.

Baelish fell to his knees, gasping desperately for air and clutching his throat.

Jon was breathing heavily and fighting to regain his composure. He turned to find her behind him, her blue eyes full of concern and shock. She was still wet from her bathing and her shift was clinging to her body like before.

Jon yanked off his cloak and draped it protectively around her shoulders.

“Was he...was he watching me?” she asked, visibly shaken by the thought.

“He was,” he grunted. But then so did I.

Sansa looked down at the man on the ground with disdain. Her lips formed a thin line and her eyes narrowed with hate. She took a step forward, clasping Jon’s cloak securely around her body with one hand before she slapped Baelish hard across the face with her other. She immediately winced at the rough contact though and cradled her hand. Jon took her soft hand in his own and kissed it.

“I’m fine,” she huffed.

“I know you are,” he said and she smiled at him. Jon looked back at Baelish and rasped out a warning, “Ride south. Leave before sunset. You are no longer welcome here.” He edged closer and growled, “If I ever lay eyes on you again, I will kill you.”

Sansa tugged at his hand and they walked back over to the water’s edge so she could gather her clothes.

“Thank you, Jon,” she said as they headed back to the keep.

Guilt gnawed at Jon’s belly and he looked down at his feet. “You shouldn’t thank me,” he muttered. “I’m no better than him. I watched you...bathing. I knew I shouldn’t but I did anyway.

”When?” she asked.

“About a fortnight ago. Sansa, I...I think my feelings for you are...well, I don’t just think of you as a cousin anymore.”

“How do you know it’s not just lust, Jon?” she asked.

“It’s not. I’m ashamed to admit that seeing you nearly naked in the godswood pool was what it took for me to realize it but the feelings were there already.”

He scratched nervously at his beard and waited for her to slap him as she had Baelish...or perhaps just break his heart in two when she said she did not feel the same.

“Truly?”

“Yes, truly. It might have taken me a while to realize it but my feelings are sincere...and my heart is yours.”

“Oh?” she said as a sweet smile sprang to her lips. “Well, I was wondering how long I’d have to keep bathing there each morning until you figured it out.”

[troyergo]

Driven by connection

Krista Baker is a junior marketing major who learned what she wanted to do at a young age.

Baker started with music promotion and management at age 14 to raise money for her youth group with the support of her youth pastor.

Within months, Baker had made a venue, affectionately called “The Basement,” in her church’s lower floor. The Basement became a stop for touring bands from across the country. All through high school, Baker booked shows at The Basement, but stepped back before moving to AU.

During Baker’s freshman year, a band that played at The Basement invited her to a release show in Indianapolis at the Hoosier Dome. At the show, the band introduced her to the venue manager and landed her a job that night.

“The music industry is a lot of networking, and it depends on who you know to get certain jobs,” Baker says. She admits she’s been fortunate to learn from other promoters, and to work with top agents and record labels.

“I think I have succeeded because I’m very relationship-oriented,” Baker says. “It’s different and people appreciate that.”

The events Baker plans on-campus are for classes and shows such as the upcoming Feb. 17 show LoveGroove, which is for the AU chapter of To Write Love On Her Arms. Baker is also president of the club, which seeks to raise awareness for mental health issues.

“I’m thankful for my time at AU because it has given me the relationships that I have with people who believe in me and have kept me going with my career,” Baker says.

“I was blessed to have that opportunity where someone didn’t look at me as a 14-year-old,” Baker says. “They looked at me as someone who has motivation and determination and an ability to get the job done.”

“I don’t think I’m special,” Baker says. “I just think I got lucky.”

A call to ministry

Jon Yaney is a junior from Noblesville, Indiana, who came to AU to study Bible and religion, but has since added three additional majors and started working in ministry.

“I came here wanting to be a pastor, and that seemed like a good start,” Yaney said of his major, which he soon realized was not going to take long to complete. “So I asked some pastors what other majors would be helpful and they told me psychology, and I picked that up.”

At the recommendation of his advisor, Dr. Priest, Yaney also added a Christian ministries major and a youth leadership development major.

“All of them bleed really well into ministry,” Yaney says.

In a surprise turn of events, the head pastor of the United Methodist Church in Galveston, Indiana, contacted Yaney in September about an interview for a position as their student ministry director. Yaney agreed, and after a few interviews was offered the job.

���I really felt like it was something I was being called to,” Yaney recalls, “and it was something that would be a good step for me and my career.”

Yaney’s first day on the job was Nov. 1, and the commitment has proven to be both a gift and a challenge. He says that the UMC has been great in allowing him to work remotely through the week and letting him do his on-site work on Sundays.

“I get there at 8:30 in the morning and I leave at 9 p.m.,” Yaney says. “It’s how I’m able to balance it with everything else going on.”

“It definitely adds new wrinkles,” Yaney laughs.

There has been a learning curve for Yaney over the past three months, with the church’s congregation being much older than he is used to. “There’s a lot of good wisdom there,” Yaney says, “though it feels weird sometimes, being on staff and teaching people who are my grandparents’ age.”

Although the job presents its fair share of challenges, Yaney has enjoyed the experience.

“What other job lets me go ice skating and get paid for it?” he says.

Passion for real talk

Connor Sorrell is a junior at AU who, through chance and circumstance, found his vocation.

Sorrell first declared an athletic training major, pursuing his desire to be a physician’s assistant. “I am really passionate about taking care of people,” Sorrell explains. “I thought by going that route I would make good money, like I’m set, it’s stable.”

During his sophomore year, Sorrell had to juggle the responsibilities of his major and being a resident assistant. Athletic training, he explains, is time consuming due to having to work clinical hours in addition to studies.

Then, while attending the Passion Conference in January 2017, an old friend introduced Sorrell to Dr. Andy Stephenson, the director of the International Youth Convention of the Church of God. From that meeting came an interview for an internship under Stephenson. To Sorrell’s surprise, he was offered the position.

If Sorrell hadn’t connected with Stephenson, the internship opportunity would not have even been an idea for him. “I had no intention of seeking that out at all,” Sorrell says.

The internship began as Sorrell changed his major to psychology. He notes that taking the class for interpersonal relationships has assisted him in his administrative internship, planning for IYC.

Psychology has taught Sorrell more about himself and understanding those around him, as well as having equipped him with communication skills that have proved extremely helpful in the office.

The internship has provided a unique professional experience in both business environments and church settings. “This will provide some good knowledge and prepare me for wherever I’m going to be over the next couple of years,” he says.

“My dream is to be a communicator,” Sorrell says, looking to his future. “I would love to be a speaker.”

He is passionate about sharing the story of his struggles with others, encouraging them that they are not alone.

Passion by design

Peyton Bennett is a senior visual communication design major from Cincinnati, Ohio, whose career has organically grown out of his studies.

In high school, Bennett was a trumpet player and made the All-State Jazz Band. He also held interests in filmmaking and videography that led him to fall in love with design.

“Ultimately, design was a way to meld my creativity and passion for art in a utilitarian way,” Bennett says.

Without much in the way of a portfolio, Bennett was initially limited in his college search, but a visit to AU set his destiny.

“I met the design professors and students and just fell in love with the program,” Bennett recalls.

In the fall semester of Bennett’s sophomore year, he took part in the $25 Business Challenge. Bennett and his classmates created a small advertising firm, marketing themselves toward other student businesses.

That year, they won the challenge on account of their concept. The business partners later spun their project into an LLC that would work with local Anderson businesses until dissolving in the spring of 2016.

With that experience now under his belt, Bennett started out on his own. His new freelance business, Peyton J. Bennett Design, found its first client in a Cincinnati golf course that Bennett himself frequents.

Following that job, Bennett landed work with two other companies in the Cincinnati area through word of mouth.

Bennett has continued to advance his studies and freelancing, and through an internship last summer he did work for companies such as SC Johnson and Macy’s. After applying for the Orr Fellowship, Bennett was hired by Formstack in Indianapolis.

While the experience of working in a design firm is invaluable, he hopes to continue freelancing and eventually to move into entrepreneurship full-time.

In the meantime, Bennett looks forward to continuing to invest back into the AU community that has given him so many opportunities and experiences. “It’s something I really cherish,” he says.

Vol. 75, No. 11 Andersonian Feb. 7, 2018