#instead they did that to Elias so it does continue

[clonerightsagenda]

Yes, WTNV kicked off the audio drama renaissance and was groundbreaking in foregrounding a queer love story in 2012 and made a huge mark in tumblr culture at the time. However none of this has to do with sexyman credentials. What makes Cecil the Ultimate Tumblr Sexyman is that he’s a perfect illustration of how when presented with just a voice and some descriptions of truly bizarre outfits, tumblr will still overwhelmingly draw a skinny white man in a suit.

[annabelle--cane]

im listening to mag again and damn do the archival crew HATE jon. listen i get it supposedly your lives would be normal if he hadn't brought you here... but he didn't? (minus og archive crew, jon requesting them and all) if anything he was just kinda there when you made decisions, bro wasn't EVEN THERE when melanie got hired like??? like how r u gonna wish him pain rn, he's ltrly sopping wet and on the verge of dying💀

like another anon I got a month or so ago, this is one of my sleeper agent trigger phrases, so this might be another marina monologue moment.

as I'm also in the middle of a (for my standards) incredibly slow relisten, I've been thinking about this topic, too, but I've been coming at it from a slightly different angle than I normally do. in tim's case, we don't get an actual look at the circumstances under which he transferred to the archives, it is theoretically possible that jon laid it on a bit thick in asking him to come with him to the department and tim wouldn't have even thought of it otherwise, but with melanie we have several scenes of her hiring and onboarding where jon is not present and she continually rebuffs people who tell her she's making a mistake, so the text very clearly sets up that her blaming jon for being trapped there doesn't make sense. and, even with tim having been requested by jon, he still had to make the ultimate decision to switch departments himself, so, yknow, what gives?

most people, I think, and myself in the past, have come at this question from a very jon-centric pov because he's the main character and it's a jon-centric show, but I think putting it down to "they lash out at him because he happens to be there and stops defending himself after a while" misses something, as does "they lash out at him because elias sets everyone up to think they have an adversarial relationship to jon." more than that, I think it's about the rejection of agency.

tma is a show that's very much About agency and choices, so it's important to keep track of where characters suddenly balk and try to offload their choices onto other agents. martin, despite being very proactive and efficient when he sets his mind to it, has a consistent habit of thinking of himself as fundamentally unimportant and unable to affect real change. jon, someone who is usually culpability_acceptor_4000, really tries to convince himself that the web made him pull statements out of strangers. and melanie and tim, on realizing that they've gotten themselves stuck in the archives, have similar reactions of trying to retroactively make those decisions jon's.

they hate being stuck there and they can't bear the idea that it might be their fault, and they don't know how to reconcile the choices they did make with the greater forces outside of their control that shape their lives. tim swings right from seeing jon as fully responsible to seeing everything as the result of cosmically inevitable bad luck, and this hits him so hard that it leads directly to his suicide. post-bullet melanie gets a better handle on it; accepting that she chose to fall further into the slaughter opens her up to accepting that she made other choices, like joining the archives, as well as accepting future choices, like quitting the archives.

and yes, in the moments where tim and melanie are most vulnerable and just starting to realize how deeply screwed they are, jon (at least from their pov) does something to make it worse. when jon tells tim that jane presntiss wasn't his fault, tim says "well you sure made me feel worse afterwards! and then everyone had to pay attention to how you were feeling to get you to stop stalking us!" when melanie goes in for a second assassination attempt on elias, elias makes jon talk her down instead of doing it himself, presumably to try and get the slaughter mark done with. neither of these are the inciting incidents for tim and melanie's situations, but they stand out. and because jon is culpability_acceptor_4000, a man who feels like the weight of the whole world is on his shoulders and is even right some of the time, the accusations stick. tim and melanie don't want anything to be their fault, jon thinks everything is his fault, and it's a bit of a vicious self-fulfilling cycle.

[hockeylovee12]

Hi!! I saw u were taking requests so can I request an imagine where quinn is complaining to elias or jack or anyone abt how y/n is too clingy and hears and starts to get insecure and upset and he doesn't know what he did wrong and she just like ignores him?

-- 💗❤️💗❤️

Thank you for the request hope you enjoy! 🫶

After a 7-2 win over the Sharks and completing the season series undefeated against them Quinn and a few of his teammates decided to go out to a local bar. Quinn was told a few of the other guys girlfriends and wives were joining as well and when Elias went to ask Quinn if Y/N was planning on joining them Quinn just shook his head.

“Nah she’s working late tonight couldn’t make it to the game” Quinn tells him

“Is everything alright between you two?” Elias questions with a concerned tone

“I don’t know man she’s just she’s been really clingy lately I don’t know what to do I love her but it’s like lately it’s like I can barely breath at this point the rink is my escape” Quinn complains

Elias shoots him a sympathetic look.

“You can tell her it’s just a guys night I’ll back you up I mean we both know I’m not bringing anyone to the bar tonight” Elias

“Ya lucky you” Quinn says impulsively the only thing Quinn didn’t know was Y/N was on the other side of the wall waiting to surprise him and instead ended up hearing every word said.

Frustrated Y/N leaves without seeing Quinn and heads back to their shared apartment.

Once she arrives she heads to their bedroom and changes into her pajamas before starting to cry remembering the conversation between Quinn and Elias.

How could Quinn say those things about her. Was she really that clingy?

A few minutes of crying goes by when her phone beeps and it’s a text from Quinn

Quinny 💚- Hey babe going out with the guys I’ll be back late get home safe love you

Y/N nearly slams her phone on her bedside table and resumes crying this time with more thoughts running through her mind

If he loved me he wouldn’t have said those things about me

Why am I not good enough for him

Eventually Y/N wears herself out from crying and falls asleep.

———————————————————————

Around midnight Quinn unlocks his apartment and steps inside. He notices Y/N purse sitting on the coffee table and sighs in relief knowing she got home safe, especially after not responding to his text which she usually does.

Quinn walks to his fridge and pours himself a glass of water before walking to the bedroom where he finds Y/N curled up on the bed. Quinn grabs a blanket from the foot of their bed and drapes it over Y/N then places a kiss on her head before walking to his closet and changing into a pair of sweatpants.

Quinn then walks to the bathroom and finishes getting ready for bed before tucking himself in right next to Y/N and peacefully falling asleep.

———————————————————————

The next morning Quinn wakes up to Y/N gone. He yawns and checks his phone feeling grateful that Tocchett gave the team the day off. After spending around 10 minutes on his phone Quinn pulls back the covers and walks to the kitchen where he sees Y/N sitting at the counter sipping a cup of coffee.

“Good morning” Quinn says walking over to Y/N and attempting to places a kiss on her cheek to which she turns her head making his attempt unsuccessful.

“Is everything ok?” Quinn asks taken back by her response

Y/N chooses not to respond and continues sipping her coffee

“Are you mad because I went out last night without you come on babe it was guys only none of the other guys girlfriends went” Quinn lies

Y/N looks him straight in the eye before whipping her head back to avoid him

Quinn gives her a strange look before walking to the coffee machine to make himself a cup before taking a seat next to her.

“So I was thinking maybe you and I could go out to lunch today Kuzy was telling me about a great new spot that just opened up down the street from us” Quinn says to no response instead Y/N finishes her cup of coffee, gets up, places her cup in the sink and walks to their room slamming the door shut.

Quinn tries to rack his brain wondering what he could’ve done to make her ignore him especially when she’s been so on to him recently about spending time together

He pulls out his phone checking his calendar wondering if he missed a birthday or anniversary but there’s nothing.

He ponders over it while finishing his cup of coffee before placing his mug in the sink and walking back towards their room

He walks in and sees Y/N standing in front of the sink in the bathroom brushing her teeth

“Y/N is everything alright?” Quinn asks

Y/N doesn’t respond and continues with her task at hand after finishing she begins walking out of the bathroom but Quinn stops her

“Seriously Y/N knock it off tell me what’s wrong” Quinn says with a little more force in his voice

“Quinn move” Y/N says

“No not until you tell me what’s happening” Quinn says blocking the opening

“Why don’t you want to go out to lunch?” Quinn asks

“How about you take yourself out to lunch it’ll be a nice little break from me” Y/N says before pushing Quinns arm down and walking out of their shared bedroom and bathroom space leaving Quinn standing there.

[sunlightmurdock]

My Future in You | 0.1 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be out of the academy by now. Instead, he’s retaking his senior year of college and praying to god that he gets into flight school. Mav’s gone, his mom’s gone. He’s mad at the world. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

Warnings: allusions to sex (fear not, there will be flashbacks in later chapters), eventual accidental pregnancy, references to abortion in this chapter and a few to come, angst, drama etc etc, enemies to lovers if you wanna call it that, no major warnings in this chapter

…

“Jake,” Had it been a Saturday night? — Yes. Was it critical that they won this game because they had lost the previous two? — Also yes. But Jake had been able to hear that you were crying the moment you said his name. He was standing in the locker room, brows furrowed and one finger plugged into his other ear to try to hear what you were saying. “I need you to help me.”

“Dude, where the fuck are you going?”

Jake shrugs his bag onto his shoulder and shook his head quickly. You might’ve lived an hour away, but you were his little sister and you asked him for help.

“I can’t play, something came up.” Jake shrugs.

Bradley looks up and scrunches his eyebrows. Someone must be dying, because there’s almost nothing that Jake would’ve missed this game for. He’s been talking about it for weeks.

“Are you fucking kidding? — You’re really going to leave your best friends hanging?” Someone calls out. Bradley minds his business, continues readying himself for the game and the inevitable loss. Without Jake there, Elias will make it off the bench for the first time all season — they’re screwed.

“My sister’s in trouble. I’ll be there next time.” Jake calls out as he’s leaving. The locker room door slams behind him.

Bradley looks across to Dustin, their quarterback, and leans in a little closer, “How many sisters does Jake have again?”

“Three.” Dustin answers. Bradley considers this information — maybe what he did isn’t so bad, there are two other Seresin’s that he didn’t hook up with and never talk to again. But then Dustin keeps talking.

“Only one younger sister. She goes to Richmond, they’re super close — she was here for Halloween, I think.”

She was definitely here for Halloween. Bradley regrets wearing an under layer because now he’s sweating.

“Sweet girl.” Dustin’s still talking.

“Can you keep a secret?” Bradley interrupts. He has to tell someone — he needs the confirmation that what he did isn’t that bad. After all, he didn’t know.

Dustin lifts his head to stare dubiously at Bradley, then shrugs his shoulders, “Sure…?”

Bradley glances around him.

“I accidentally hooked up with Jake’s sister. On Halloween.”

“How the fuck do you accidentally—“

Bradley pinches the bridge of his nose. Dustin’s a great quarterback, but he isn’t the brightest.

“No, that part was on purpose,” Bradley sighs, “But I didn’t know that it was her. No one even told me she was visiting. I thought all of Jake’s family were in Texas.”

Dustin presses a hand over his mouth. Bradley jumps as a whistle rings out. The team start moving to head out to the field. Dustin grabs his helmet and gives Bradley a sympathetic look, “You’re so dead.”

You flinch as your front door rattles. Jake bangs on the other side with his fist. Your legs tremble as you push yourself up and walk to the door, pulling the chain off and twisting the handle.

Jake grabs you by your shoulders the minute the door opens. You watch him look you over. Like he’s looking for cuts, bruises, signs of a potentially fatal injury.

“What’s going on? — You said emergency.” In the Seresin household, emergency is an absolute code red. It’s a drop everything and come now type situation. Jake’s somewhat dismayed to find out that you’re totally fine.

He does find it odd that you’re wearing pyjamas on a Saturday night.

Your lip trembles. It’s so much harder to say now that he’s standing in front of you. Jake has always been your biggest supporter. Given that his older sisters were always the bosses around the house, he understood that becoming a big brother was serious — his sisters had always taken great care of him and he had big shoes to fill.

He had always let you hang out with his friends, even if they thought you were too young or didn’t want you around because you were a girl. He had always told you when your outfits were bad, and not even in a mean way, just to save you the embarrassment. He knew you were smarter than him, and had told you this your entire life.

Jake has adored you from the moment he heard about you, and he has always been so proud of his baby sister.

His brows furrow, still holding you by the shoulders as he watches tears brim in your eyes. You throw yourself at his chest, sobbing into the fabric of his black t-shirt.

Jake wraps his arms around you, flooded with worry as he rubs at your back.

“Hey, it’s okay. What happened?”

“I fucked up.” Your face is pressed into his chest, your voice is muffled and you’re crying. Jake can barely make it out. It takes him a few seconds, but he does decipher what you’re saying eventually. He keeps you against him as he steps inside and swings the door shut behind him.

“It can’t be that bad. We’ll figure it out.”

You pull back, cheeks blotchy, “Not that bad?”

Jake’s confused as to how and why he’s being yelled at right now.

You turn and walk over to the coffee table. Jake doesn’t see what you pick up until you turn back and hold it out in front of him, “Not that bad?”

His lips part.

He steps closer and squints. His vision is just fine, he just can’t believe what he’s seeing right now. He looks between you and the pregnancy test in your hand. Jake gasps.

“You’re kidding. This isn’t funny, this is not a funny joke!” Jake scolds you. He sounds like your mother when he does that.

Then, you start crying again. Lip trembling, chest heaving, knees wobbling. He realises that you aren’t just messing with him.

“Shit.” Jake breathes out, he shakes his head in disbelief. His big brother instincts kick in and he reminds himself to comfort you. He might be spiralling himself but he can’t imagine what you must be going through.

He rubs your back, resting his chin on your shoulder until you stop hyperventilating. He looks slowly around the apartment, it’s a standard, off-campus space that you share with three other girls. Your room is the size of a shoe box. Maybe the baby could fit right here, between the couch and the bar cart, under the photo booth pictures of two of your roommates kissing.

“You didn’t even tell me you were dating someone.” Jake complains. You tell him everything. He tells you significantly less but that’s because you had to practically beg him to stop telling you about all of the girls he talks to and inevitably breaks up with.

You pull back and wipe at your eyes. Jake frowns. He doesn’t get why you’re staring at him like that. Oh. There isn’t a boyfriend.

“Do you know who the father is?” Jake whispers, like he’s asking something he shouldn’t.

Of course you know who the father is. You let out a breath and look at the ceiling, nodding dejectedly. Jake’s one rule for visiting him on Halloween was to not sleep with any of his friends. In your defence, you hadn’t realised that the idiot in the Eagles jersey even lived there until he was already inviting you to his room. And he was so cute.

“Is he going to step up?” Jake asks, his face growing stern.

You roll your eyes and almost laugh at the thought of asking Jake’s frat brother to raise a child with you. Jake’s staring at you, still waiting for an answer, taking this conversation extremely seriously.

“He doesn’t know.” You sigh. You only found out yourself two hours ago.

“When are you going to tell him?” Jake presses.

The father. You can’t imagine telling a stranger you met at a halloween party that you’re going to make him a father. The thought makes you nauseous. You certainly can’t stomach the word mother at this moment in time.

“I’m not.”

“What?” Jake chokes. He knows that if this was him, he would want to know. This guy might be a shithead, but Jake figures he probably deserves a chance to know that he got someone pregnant.

“It was a one night stand.”

“Since when do you have one night stands?” Jake demands. He only asks because you constantly make fun of him for being such a commitment-phobe. You press your face into your hands and groan in frustration.

“How would you like me to answer that? - We can either go with, no Jake, it was just once. Or we can go with your sister is hot and gets plenty of action - which would you prefer?” You snap at him. His face creases for a moment, not happy to hear about his little sister’s sexual habits. Then, he shakes his head and moves back into big brother mode.

“I would prefer you to have had protected sex. Protected.” Jake specifies. He’s gesturing with his hands as he speaks. You frown at him.

“We used a condom.” You answer. You really don’t want to provide any more details than are absolutely necessary. Jake pulls a face at this new information.

“You’re the girl, aren’t you on birth control or anything?”

“Hey, this isn’t my fault!” You bite back. It kind of is. You’re too busy to remember to take the pill every morning and your appointment to get an IUD was supposed to be on Thursday. Besides, condoms are supposed to do the job. Ninety-ninety percent effective… bullshit.

Jake opens his mouth to lecture you, then stops. He was about to sound a lot like your dad. He shakes his head.

“Fine. What’s the plan?” Jake asks.

“I guess planned parenthood.”

It’s late by the time that Jake gets home. Like, almost five in the morning, late. He can still hear people giggling at the back of the house, but most of the people inside seem to be already asleep. Jake assumes they lost the game without him considering that the house is relatively clean and people aren’t still up celebrating.

He wants nothing more than to fall into his bed and forget that tonight happened. He still can’t believe that this happened. If it was going to happen to either of you, everyone would have been in agreement that it was more likely to happen to Jake. You’re so smart, things like this just don’t happen to smart people.

Jake really hopes his Mom doesn’t call tomorrow. You’re both in agreement that your parents should never hear about this - they wouldn’t take it well, and Jake hates lying to his Mom. He feels like she can see right through him.

The sound of a door opening makes Jake lift his head as he reaches the top of the stairs. It’s the door opposite his that opens. Bradley’s room.

“So you’ll call me?” The pretty brunette wearing a non-descript men’s t-shirt long enough to hide her shorts, steps out of the room and looks at Bradley. It’s one of the shirts that Bradley won’t miss. Bradley hasn’t yet noticed Jake. She sways on her feet, fidgeting shyly.

“Yeah. Sure.” Bradley leans against the door frame and smiles. He barely even knows her name. He’s fairly sure it begins with an E. If he even got her number tonight, he isn’t going to remember to call it. Bradley knows this, Jake knows this - yet, the girl seems to believe him. “Get home safe.”

“Okay. Goodnight.” She giggles sheepishly. Jake steps out of her way as she turns and heads for the stairs. Bradley smiles as he spots Jake.

Jake isn’t surprised to have come across this situation. It isn’t unusual to spot a girl leaving Bradley’s room early in the morning. He usually makes an excuse about having to do something early in the day. He’s not a fan of girls being there when he wakes up.

Jake finds that weird because morning sex is one of his favourite activities. Bradley also likes morning sex, but finds that girls tend to think they can stick around afterwards, which he isn’t a fan of.

“Hey. You missed it, we won.” Bradley announces, stretching his arms up above his head and resting them on the doorframe. He swears he catches Jake’s eye twitch.

Salt in the wound. Jake nods and congratulates him, then begins towards his own room. He’s hoping to shut his eyes before the sun starts to come up. Bradley understands why Jake isn’t excited, he would be pissed if the team won without him there too. It’s an ego thing.

Bradley decides to change the subject rather than let Jake go to bed on a bad note. There’s only one conversation topic that comes to mind.

“How’s your sister anyway?” Bradley asks more to be polite than out of genuine concern, arms still stretched up above his head. He’s wearing just a pair of gym shorts - makes sense, that girl clearly just took his shirt.

Jake looks at him. Bradley stands still, he mistakes the tired look in his friend’s eye for anger and immediately begins to theorise about apologies. How does someone apologise for sleeping with their friend’s sister, anyway?

“Dude, don’t even ask. She’s in such a mess right now.” Jake shakes his head and waves him off. Bradley sighs in relief and assumes she just got her heart broken or something simple like that. Jake continues to his room. “See you later.”

“Sure. Later.” Bradley agrees. They each shut their doors, with no idea of how drastically each of their lives are about to change.

…

Tag List:

@thedroneranger

@chaoticweirdogeek

@alanadetigy

@itsmytimetoodream

@oldnatgwenaccount

@khaylin27

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@mizzzpink

@mak-32

@cherrycola27

[missglaskin]

Young Griff who was raised all his life to believe you are his twin sister. He's protective of you and does everything to make you happy. He's educated about the Targaryen history so he expected to marry you, already dreaming to name his firstborn son Jaehaerys after his great grandfather.

But when he learns the unfortunate truth that you are the only trueborn Targaryen between the two of you, he spirals. He feels unworthy of you, unworthy of the name and the mother he claims to have been born from. He's scared that they're going to take you away once they learned that he is just an imposter. So like the fake father he once believed sired him, he elopes with you. Wedding you in the Valyrian custom. The only thing he needs to do now is get you with child. He deludes himself that this is enough. You are his now, whatever may come.

I was so excited that I made it a little too long

Young Griff would basically worship the ground his sister walks on. Growing up, he was raised to believe he was the son of Rhagear and Elia. That he will be seated himself on the iron throne. It was what Jon told him. What Illyrio believed. What Varys claimed. 

In all their expectations, wanting to marry you was not one of them. Still, he dreamt of it. Spending most of his time reading on the history of his ancestors. He will continue the traditions of his house and take you as his wife one day. Just like Aegon the conqueror did, and all those who came after him. He spoke eagerly of your future together, the many children you will share. What the two of you will name your firstborn son. 

 In his mind, you were each other's half. Brought to the world together, meant to live the rest of your lives with one another. He’s intensely protective of you. If it weren’t for your ‘brother’ you may have been married off for some alliance. 

You did spend most of your life ignoring some of the troubling behaviors he exhibited. Remembering the one time when you were children. When he stood over a boy, fists bloody because the said boy thought it would be funny to tug your hair. There was not the mention of his jealousy, which was all easily fueled. Still, a touch from you was able to calm him. 

As mentioned, it was quite easy to turn your head the other way at the questionable behavior. For all that one can say, young griff was the most gentle and giving. With you, of course. He hated to see you cry and was willing to do whatever it took to make you smile. A fond memory of yours was when he gifted you a doll, to which he secretly ‘borrowed’ some of Jon’s coins because he knew how much you wanted it. 

So the two of you were put through an existential crisis when finding out the truth. As any, young griff spirals. To learn your whole life was a lie. That the claim you fought so hard for was all for nothing. It was all too much for him. 

In all of it, what hurt the most was knowing that everything he believed about the two of you was all just a lie. He’s not sure when, but he knows there will come a time where the rest will find out. Maybe the golden company will still support his claim, but there’s no doubt that the realm will look for you instead of him. A Targaryen princess under their grasp, who wouldn’t take advantage of this. 

You may not have shared blood, but you were still a part of him and he wasn’t going to let anyone take you away from him. To watch as you’re forced to wed another. So the two of you elope.

Sharing the same cup. Hands entwined blood seeping. Lips cut. A smile shared before the bloodied lips meet. Both of you are wed now. A husband and wife. Bound together until the end of time. 

With the sky being the only witness. The two of you consummate your marriage. Body heaving, limbs intertwined, and your head resting on his chest. 

Young Griff would tell him this all he needed. That all he needed was you. You on his side. You as his wife. You in his arms. And soon you with his child. 

But he wonders if he’s all you need. If perhaps you wish for something more. Want something more. You did have a claim to the throne. And if that was the case. He will fight for what was once his claim. With him and Jon on your side, he knows it’s possible.

[avatar-of-the-web]

This was going to be a response but Tumblr has the best timing with making me lose a post forever, so the context is TMA "Are there loving God's?" Gerry said, he doesn't believe so.

They appear to all be fear-based.

He specifies, “At least not that I've seen” [they are not anything else]

Smart boy, the information tugs at the edge of the subconscious where you can barely see it. You know it's wrong without the means to prove it.

You know they're beyond your imagination but you still yet cannot help being trapped in a world of fear; this was true before they literally consumed the world. They already had. So caught up in fear that it had practically swallowed it all to begin with. All Elias had really done was make it official, to cut everything else out of the picture.

So there was nothing left to balance, it slides on an incline downward; but this is an ecosystem and the balance is off. They can't feed forever if even they can die—this world was finite.

In a sense, ours isn't. Of course, the flesh disagrees and the clumsy host produces waste without thinking of solutions will disagree; “it's all finite to me” but this energy is never created nor destroyed only moved, only changed.

They'd be different sides of the same entity, not completely different entity's; they're ELDRITCH, or incredibly difficult, dense to comprehend; Different faces, same beast—a different man sees their own unique version of each god as unique as their relationship with it.

To a vast avatar, the vast is a loving god, She changed you for the better; Gave you what you Needed, though She may still ask for payment in an exchange. That's not unreasonable.

Of course how we draw the lines in the sand are circumstantial. One calls it the Eye because they believe this section of the beast is worth separating as its own; and for good reason. In every head, the witness of life observes and fed and fed and fed She changes too. Different forms of course; some continually feeding without consideration, some drink the sea to know to apply, some cannot help this obsession spurred by terror what will happen if I don't see it all? And more.

The Eye is a dominant entity for Her presence is nearly guaranteed. The Web us a dominant entity because it is or lays in the connection of everything.

We section these things to better understand them. The total of it all— it's too overwhelming to process all at once.

But it comes down to this.

You make a relationship with your slice of The Gods.

“In exchange for being my vessel, here is a prize; but you must be calibrated. Not just anybody can be a vessel for # you must fulfill the needs, be capable of performing My actions of thinking My thoughts.

You are My Vessel the embodiment of Me and you must Become to Be.”

Gerry is biased by WHAT HE COULD SEE, the patterns that trapped him, and what he could see was ultimately dictated by the people that insisted on controlling his life; so when he escaped he could only make how he viewed the world his own, so he saved people from fear instead of creating it.

He fought limitation though limitation still lay as it were, he could only go so far but even so

If that's not love, I don't know what is.

So he did not See it for he could not understand it but he could Feel it still; it drove his actions though he separated them.

He only knew these things could hurt people because he Saw what they could do. He only saved them because he Knew. Otherwise, there is no reason to Fear.

Of course, doubt and denial and misunderstanding, misaligning information leads to blindness; one could ask "how could god do that?" thinking of a god as something akin to a man making decisions; but they're far more complex than that.

The human brain does not dictate every little thing the stomach does, and goes through, though it certainly influences decisions we typically don't understand every single thing going on and don't control every single muscle and behaviour inside. A god on a greater scale—as a given consciousness could be a god to it's cells whom practice their devotion by serving their own respective purposes for the greater good of the whole and the individual—this is no different.

In our complicated dimension we have more of a choice.

We get to be privvy, get to know, get to share that know, if we so choose, if we find ourselves capable.

But I can only choose how I'd choose as I am with my life and my knowledge.

I become what I can reach.

And I believe there is every side to them, and an infinite number of ways to slice them. They are only reduced to Fears in a world of Fear.

I make no predication to the angle the podcast will take; but I see the seeds of reality that bloomed to creative ideas in TMA. And I see what cannot be avoided; I see what is being depicted.

In it's full complexity, from the eye of the beholder, from the centre of fear is our vantage point as the audience as it is the writers.

The Witness of Life, The Eye, The Evil Eye. All the same. Whatever angle it takes.

So we will See.

[animerefund]

Ngl, I have had a crush on Katy since I was like 17, I'm 22 now and never thought I would be simping this hard over her again.... Yet here we are ladies and gents.

-_-_-_-_

Once the officers dragged the patient into the lab, Y/N sighed re-adjusted their lab coat as the man's heel tugged their coat away from it's buttoned place as he was dragged through the doorway

Hearing shoe tips bounce against the disinfected floors as they glanced up to meet the eyes of the communications officer that alert the department of a potential traitor.

Seeing brown eyes staring back at E/C eyes with a hint of something that could be considered of pride mixed with relief.

Strategically the doctor looked over the patient again at the sounds of movement locked cuffs clasping loudly against the silence in the lab.

A disparaging feeling soaked in the room as the officers secured the potential remolded scientist.

It seems that everyone has their defectors.

Shaking their head solemnly before they walked over to the retracted door panel and walked over to the officer before holding out their hands for the report before they scanned over it once.

"Alright, afterwards you report this to the higher ups." Y/N spoke confidently before handing the officer back her report.

"Of course." The officer responded her smile lingering for a moment as the doctor looked over her face.

Turning curtly back to the entrance to the lab, they swayed through quickly, the panel shutting firmly after the republic officers flooded out.

Once the patient started to awaken, did Y/N roll their sleeves up slightly and head behind the Mitigator as the republic's blue licensed command officer entered the lab.

A dark turquoise Mon Calamari with a unreadable face as well as a slight limp.

Y/n wondered what for, but before they could probe further the officer walked over to slightly disorientated amnesty file worker.

Y/N could help the feeling of guilt as the man awoke started off with saying G68 had tricked him into it.

Taking a cautious look over to the glass did they notice her eyes.

The deadness in them was alarming, as well as the slight twitch of her lip.

Furrowing eyebrows they looked at her longer then the time was given as G68 looked over at them, her face melting into a look of guilt and sadness.

With the wave a hand beside them broke their concentration with shake of the head Y/N pushed the Mitigator towards the amnesty scientist.

The pleas from him went on deaf ears as the commanding officer continued to silence him before finally, the protect gear was on his head and the two of them were out of the lab.

Turning around one more time as they left the lab and looked at G68's back as they were escorted out.

Thinking about it as they walked slowly to their quarters, stopping only when they realized someone had blown past them in a rush.

Form-wise, it had to be the same amnesty officer.

Following her with a floating step due to trying to keep up, finally once they caught up enough to following safely, the woman stopped frozen turning her head to the side.

Instead of being suspicious Y/N continued to walk as they past her, she gripped the back of their neck before pushing them into a devoided cornered cubbie space.

"You take too long." She spoke in hushed voice as she releases her tight hold on the back of their neck.

"You need to ease up on the grip next time Moof milker." Y/n sighed and rubbed their neck with annoyance.

Elia laughed and pulled them in for a hug slightly sliding her hands up their back with the intention of curling her fingers in their hair roots as she does.

"Did you do it?" She nodded as they pulled away, her face dropping from it's smile into a non readable expression.

"Yeah it's done." She answered her voice even softer as she leans her nose to bump against Y/N's before inhaling softly.

"... It's a pity.... His work had so much progress to it." Y/N watched as Kane merely shrugged and pulled Y/N back into her, their lips meeting softly.

-------

That's it.

The character is too vague for anything more.

I wrote this in 20 minutes, please be kind.

If you want I could write George from Z nation, I have like 4 year old drafts from that that I could rewrite or just post them. I love O'Brian. I have for years and now that she's in popular stuff I will fist fight anyone who doesn't think she fits the role in mandalorian.

[esther-dot]

Ned was there when Lyanna died in Tower of Joy. He even fought with the guards of Rhaegar to meet with his sister. Yet Ned never think bad about Rhaegar. Oberyn and Doran were shown to have no single thought on Rhaegar humiliating their sister Elia. Only Brandon was shown to be angry for what Rhaegar did to Lyanna. I mean Ned had more thoughts on how Joffery is bad news for Sansa but no thought on Rhaegar. Is grrm deliberately doing this? If these three guys have shown their anger towards Rhaegar then maybe readers will see him a bad news. I think grrm is hiding Rhaegar and Lyanna story for Jon parentage to not get reveal early. 🤔

(continuation of this convo)

I think about this a lot too, anon. For some reason it was Oberyn who really came to mind during this chain of asks, and to my lizard brain, the omission of anger towards Rhaegar feels like an oversight on the author's part or evidence that he doesn't take the issue with Rhaegar that I do. That’s a thought that’s hard for me to even entertain as someone who has hated men for committing lesser crimes against my little sister! Obviously it makes sense to hate the perp and architect of Elia’s death and focus on them as they are alive, but Rhaegar is the one who kickstarted the events that led to Elia’s death, so ya know, hate.

As for Ned, I think this was the only quote that (to me) felt like Ned having an opinion about Rhaegar:

There was no answer Ned Stark could give to that but a frown. For the first time in years, he found himself remembering Rhaegar Targaryen. He wondered if Rhaegar had frequented brothels; somehow he thought not. (AGOT, Eddard IX)

And initially, maybe it does read like Rhaegar is being favorably contrasted with Robert. But if we opt to not assume we're to form a conclusion about Rhaegar's character from this, and instead see it as the author revealing more of the truth to us, it is clearly Martin telling us, Rhaegar wasn't given to fits of passion/lust that would send him to a brothel or say, lead him to abduct and rape a girl. Martin wants us to know that what Robert believes is the story, isn't.

That doesn't mean we're being told this is a love story though!

As more info about Rhaegar is revealed we find that learning something totally altered him, that he became wholly absorbed with the prophecy/his fate. His single-mindedness in pursuit of that meant he personally transformed from a bookworm to a warrior. That certainly leaves the door open for us to imagine he’d do other things, even bad things, outside his typical behavior.

So I’d say this is less about Ned’s feelings about Rhaegar, and more, the author trying to guide us in understanding him, telling us this guy wasn’t really distracted from his purpose. Of course it makes no sense for Ned to have that thought about a man if he believed that man kidnapped and repeatedly raped his sister. It really doesn’t. However, it does work as a hit that Robert's version of events isn’t the whole story. There are occasionally lines that I don't think fit the POV perfectly and seem more like the author inserting a thought which means I hesitate to read too much into Ned's feelings there. IMO, this is primarily something the author was wanting to impress upon as as foundation for a later revelation about Rhaegar wanting another child for his three heads of the dragon stuff.

But here's another Rhaegar mention in Ned's next chapter:

It would have to be his grandfather, for Jory's father was buried far to the south. Martyn Cassel had perished with the rest. Ned had pulled the tower down afterward, and used its bloody stones to build eight cairns upon the ridge. It was said that Rhaegar had named that place the tower of joy, but for Ned it was a bitter memory. They had been seven against three, yet only two had lived to ride away; Eddard Stark himself and the little crannogman, Howland Reed. He did not think it omened well that he should dream that dream again after so many years. (AGOT, Eddard X)

and when we pair it with this reference:

Robert had been jesting with Jon and old Lord Hunter as the prince circled the field after unhorsing Ser Barristan in the final tilt to claim the champion's crown. Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty's laurel in Lyanna's lap. He could see it still: a crown of winter roses, blue as frost.

Ned Stark reached out his hand to grasp the flowery crown, but beneath the pale blue petals the thorns lay hidden. He felt them clawing at his skin, sharp and cruel, saw the slow trickle of blood run down his fingers, and woke, trembling, in the dark. (AGOT, Eddard XV)

It is clear that there are victims to Rhaegar's actions, that other's suffer as a result of his choices, that these actions may have been pleasing to him "tower of joy," "urged his horse past his own wife," but we can read the horror in them, "for Ned it was a bitter memory," "all the smiles died."

So, even when I'm surprised at the lack of venom these men have for Rhaegar whose choices set everything into motion, and don’t think it makes sense for Ned to think of him as he does, even in the most Rhaegar-favorable reading of this we can come to, it isn't the case that we're meant to brush aside the cost of Rhaegar’s choices. It's simply that, I'm such a this or that person, I see the cost and decide Rahegar is trash, Martin is a this and that person. He can still sympathize, even finds some real tragedy (it seems) in the life/death of such a man. I mean, I still call scumbag, idiot, statutory rapist at a minimum, but I’m trying not to project.

Rhaegar could have had his reasons and believed what he was doing was right, but clearly, he was wrong. Wrong about the prophecy, wrong to prioritize chasing that rather than taking practical steps to protect the realm, wrong to implode a girl’s life when she was too young to understand all the ramifications or in a position to refuse his advances. And of course, wrong to humiliate Elia, wrong to betray a woman who had done nothing, nothing to deserve such treatment. Rhaegar was so so wrong to think that his unstable father would be able to hold everything he had fucked up together.

And yet, we have disinterest where we would expect hatred. I guess that’s why your last point is the one to hold onto:

I think grrm is hiding Rhaegar and Lyanna story for Jon parentage to not get reveal early.

Martin wants it to have impact with the reader when they finally get the confirmation of R+L=J, so everything Ned is permitted to think/feel is curtailed by what the author is willing/unwilling to divulge. That’s small comfort, but I’ll take it!

[chiapielle]

Well, apparently I am going to continue thinking about these two so...have a Petey/Quinn Flower Shop AU :)

Elias stumbles across the flower shop on Robson Street mostly by accident.

He’s jogging in place while waiting for the light when he sees the shop tucked into the corner. It has a rather unassuming store front, but what catches Elias’ attention is the prominently displayed bouquet, situated in a men’s hockey skate of all things.

It startles a chuckle out of Elias and he’s intrigued enough by the artistry and sheer oddity of the piece that he decides to duck into the small shop. If nothing else, he might just get the hockey skate bouquet, maybe that would stop his mom from commenting about how dreary his apartment is every single time they FaceTime.

Or maybe not.

Whatever.

A guy can dream.

“Welcome,” chirps a cheery looking brunet when Elias pushes open the door, “how can I-holy shit, you’re Petey. I mean Pettersson, I mean, holy fuck. Wait here.”

Elias looks on in bemusement as the brunet takes a couple of steps back, before dashing off into a side door as if the hounds of hell were on his heel.

That’s…concerning.

Vancouver is a hockey city, so Elias is used to being recognized but reactions like this either ends with him trying to fend off an obsessive fan or having to calm down a panicking fan before he can go about his business. 

Neither of which sound very appealing.

He thinks about turning around and heading right back out, funny hockey skate bouquet be damned, but by the time his hand is on the door, a quieter voice calls out from behind him and stops him in his tracks.

“Hey, uh, sorry about before.”

The owner of this voice sounds less like they’re about to mob Elias, and after a few seconds of internal debate, Elias turns around, ostensibly to try and explain why he was about to sneak out the front door like a thief that has been caught red-handed, but then he catches sight of the man at the counter and his brain stops.

When Elias does not respond after a few seconds, counter guy looks politely (and justifiably) concerned.

“Did you need, um, did something catch your eye?” 

You, Elias thinks, unable to look away from the soft swoop of brown hair that falls messily above the other’s eyes and determinedly drags his gaze away from the other’s unfairly red lips.

“The skate,” he gets out instead, “it’s pretty cool.”

“Oh,” counter guy sounds confused but there is a hint of a smile lifting up the corner of his mouth, “thanks. I did it on a whim? It’s, uh, I mean, yeah. Thanks.”

“I’m Elias,” Elias blurts out, then wants to smack himself because what the fuck. 

He’s usually better at this.

He swears he has game normally?

But something about the gorgeous counter guy is short circuiting his brain.

Honestly, Elias feels a bit like someone’s caught him out mid skate and checked him hard against the board.

That’s how out of breath he feels.

Christ.

Still, his awkward introduction somehow makes counter guy smile, a proper one that makes Elias’ brain buzz pleasantly.

“I know,” counter guy says casually, “we’re pretty big hockey fans.”

“Right,” Elias replies, still staring.

“So,” counter guy continues, “were you looking for something?”

Your name? 

Your number?

Your interest in dating Swedish professional hockey players based in Vancouver?

Elias inwardly makes a face and tries to regroup his thoughts into something more innocuous. “Yes,” he eventually replies, “I’m looking for flowers.”

Counter guy blinks at him before looking around the small store slowly. There’s a small smirk playing about his lips when he looks back at Elias. “Well, I have good news for you.”

Elias takes the chirp and tries not to look too visibly besotted.

Gorgeous and has a sense of humour then.

“How much for the hockey skate bouquet?” he blurts out instead.

Counter guy looks taken aback. “Oh uh,” he pauses to lick at his lips.

Elias swallows hard at the sight.

“That’s more a display item?” Counter guy sounds apologetic, “I mean, we can make one for you if you’d like but, yeah.”

“Yes,” Elias says immediately, seizing the opportunity to prolong this conversation, “I would like to commission one.”

Counter guy looks quietly pleased. “Yeah? Okay,” he says, “do you have any thoughts about what you want it to look like or?”

“Not really,” Elias shrugs, “I trust your skills.”

That earns him another smile.

“I’m, um, I’m Quinn by the way,” counter guys offers tentatively, ducking below the counter briefly to grab a pad of paper and a pen.

“Petey,” Elias retorts automatically, then tries his best to mentally smack himself.

Seriously.

He has met hotter men.

He has slept with hotter men.

What the fuck is it about Quinn that’s throwing everything off kilter?

Thankfully, again, Quinn seems to find Elias’ floundering amusing rather than disturbing because he smirks, “I know.”

Elias tries not to stare too obviously at his lips.

“So how would you like it?”

Elias’ brows rise before he can control them.

“The bouquet,” Quinn clarifies, clearing his throat with a small cough, “do you really not have any specifications about the bouquet?”

“I guess some nice flowers, preferably still in a skate?” Elias eventually offers when it becomes obvious that Quinn is looking for at least some input from him.

Quinn looks like he’s trying hard not to laugh. “No preference on types of flowers or a colour scheme?” he looks down and scribbles something on the paper pad, “or, if you, uh, know who it’s for? Perhaps I can make some suggestions?”

Elias takes a moment to think about this.

“My mom likes orchids,” he eventually offers, “maybe that if that’s possible?” He moves a bit closer to the counter, trying and hopefully coming off as casual.

Up close, Quinn’s eyelashes are absurdly long and Elias can’t help but notice that Quinn’s shoulders fill out his shirt nicely. Elias lets his gaze linger a touch longer than he really should.

“That’s,” Quinn says as he looks up, looking slightly startled at how close Elias now is before he smiles again, “that’s pretty wholesome. Any idea what kind of orchids?”

“There are different types?” Elias mutters, more to himself than anything else.

Quinn makes a face that clearly shows he’s trying hard not to laugh once more.

“So, uh, think it’s obvious that I’m out of my league,” Elias says slowly, “would be cool if the new one looks a bit like the one in the display.” He pauses to catch Quinn’s gaze, “but I trust you so do what you think looks best.”

“Yeah, okay,” Quinn replies, turning around to fuss around with some paper forms. He makes a soft sound when he turns around, a neatly written small card in his hands, “that’s your order receipt.”

“Thanks,” Elias says, taking the card and flicking his gaze down to see what’s printed.

Disappointingly, it does not have Quinn’s number.

“Do you want to-”

“So uh, thanks-”

They both pause.

“If, uh, if you want to leave a number,” Quinn offers tentatively, “we can give you a call once it’s ready?”

Elias does not hesitate to jot down his number.

He probably should.

Lectures about the value of privacy, NDAs, data protection, and other annoying PR considerations briefly ran through his mind.

But honestly, something about Quinn makes him stupid.

“That’s my personal number,” he clarifies pointedly before sliding the paper pad back to Quinn, “in case you need to reach me.”

[jonahfagnus]

i dont think you ever posted about your "jon sees elias as jonah when he takes the archivist job" au but please start with that immediately 👀👀👀👀👀👀

so i dont think theres very much that i didnt say in the tags of the post i made about it (unless tumblr ate those for some reason)

but basically. yeah after jon takes the archivist position he starts seeing elias as jonah (at elias' age, not as like. a corpse in the panopticon). obviously he immediately realises that its jonah bcs, yknow, the guys paintings are everywhere.

i imagine jon's train of thought is something like this:

did my boss get possessed by jonah magnus -> no thats dumb ghosts arent real -> im having a psychotic episode -> surely id be seeing other symptoms -> what the FUCK is happening

so a huge amount of jon's desire to find the truth about the supernatural ends up focused on jonah. initially he's just doing research into the actual guy jonah magnus himself but that doesnt really get him anywhere because its not like jonah was like "dear diary im an eye avatar and im going to start putting my eyes into other people so i can be immortal" so he starts doing research into elias instead. which also turns out to be quite difficult just doing normal research.

luckily, jon and elias are decently friendly with each other (at least in early s1, which this would still be). so surely its not weird to try and make sure your relationship with your boss is positive. thats just common sense thats just cultivating a welcoming workplace environment or whatever. and ofc elias is like

bcs this is objectively great! jons leaning into the eye hes considering breaching elias' privacy to learn more about him and ofc hes flattered that jon is so focused on him in particular. so he allows jon to break into his office and look through his things and he pretends he isnt watching the entire time, and he casually mentions some flaws in his home security to try and spur jon into breaking into his house (which he doesnt. yet.)

they're sort of not-quite-dating - tim might joke about jon going on dates with elias and jon gets very flustered and denies it and elias is a little over affectionate in public just to see how jon reacts, but neither of them have any idea that jon's doing all of this just so he can figure out why his boss is (apparently) the founder of the institute.

then prentiss happens. then they find gertrude's body.

i dont think jon gets as paranoid as he does in canon - hes been less of an asshole since all of his focus has gone into researching elias and trying to figure out what the fuck happened. so while i think he does do some research into the archival crew, its mainly research into gertrude herself, and continuing his research into elias. now with added stalking!

and of course elias still doesnt care about the stalking because hes still 1. very happy jon is taking to the eye so well and 2. flattered that jon is so focused on him to the point of stalking him. in my heart i know elias considers stalking to be a form of flirting

s2 goes generally the same but i want jon to find out about the not-them just a little sooner so i can make him go "holy shit! elias got not-them'd! what the fuck!" of course this is completely incorrect if you know anything about how the not-them works but jon. doesnt.

jon, of course, breaks the table. then he finds out that sasha got not-them'd. then he finds out leitner is alive. then he finds out leitner is dead.

who else does he have to go to? he shows up at elias' home, maybe just minutes after elias finishes cleaning up, because a man has been killed in his office and he didnt do it.

because i am a soft elias truther s3 isnt just manipulation and horrible things happening for jon. horrible things still do happen (elias very much doesnt discourage him from talking to jude perry, or mike crew, for example) and elias is still a bastard but its probably not any significant amount more horrible than canon s3 was.

jon probably spends amounts of time talking to elias about what leitner told him (which is hilarious to elias) and elias (against his better judgement) doesnt tell jon that leitner was lying, but instead asks him questions that may or may not lead him to figuring out the entities. he's curious as to what's going to happen, and he's sure jon likes him enough that showing just a little of what he knows wont tarnish their relationship

i dont have many thoughts beyond that - the confrontation probably goes differently, for example, and maybe jon permanently moves in with elias. i cant decide how much of a corruption arc i should give jon (obviously he ends up much more content with the eye than in canon bcs the eye is sexy but i cant decide if hes pro apocalypse or not) but when jon finds out that elias is jonah hes like "oh i know" and jonah is like what the fuck do you mean

[jackoshadows]

There are many people in the fandom who claim Sansa is the one who resembles Ned the most out of her siblings. Do you think that’s true?

I have always disagreed with this fandom viewpoint. I would think that logically the characters who resemble Ned the most would be the characters who value Ned’s wisdom and advice, and that would be Arya Stark and Jon Snow.

Sansa and Ned are very different in terms of personality and characterization. Ned loves his family above all else. He sacrifices his honor for his sister and takes in her baby despite it being a stain on his honor. His love for his sister outweighs his friendships with Robert Baratheon and Jon Arryn.  Sansa, on the other hand, keeps supporting Joffrey over her sister every single time and puts her little sister in danger by telling Cersei that it's Arya who is the traitor.

Ned confesses to treason to save his daughter’s life. The only reason he warns Cersei of the danger to her and her children was because he didn’t want Myrcella and Tommen to suffer the same fate as Elia’s babies. The only reason Sansa tattles all of Ned's plans to Cersei ending up with the girls - Arya, Jeyne and Sansa herself - trapped in KL is because she wanted to remain in KL, marry Joffrey and become queen.

Ned’s act was selfless, putting himself and his family in grave danger to save his enemy’s children. Sansa’s act is selfish, putting her father and her family in grave danger because she wanted to become queen.

In the post I made about  Ned’s friendship with Robert Baratheon, I have seen comparisons made between Ned’s blindspot for Robert and Sansa’s blindspot towards Joffrey. I disagree!

Ned’s friendship with Robert was despite him knowing that Robert is not a good person. Ned condemns Robert for supporting the deaths of Elia and her children. He resigns as Hand when Robert continues to press for Dany’s assassination. It’s in Ned’s own POV chapter that he critiques Robert as a person. Ned’s opinion was pretty much that Robert sucks big time but he’s my friend so I love him.

Sansa on the other hand does not acknowledge Joffrey’s sadistic villainy even when it’s right in front of her, because she wants to marry him and become queen. She’s willfully blind to everything he does. Instead she blames Arya and Mycah - the innocents in this - for all of Joffrey’s wrong doing.

At first she thought she hated [Joffrey] for what they’d done to Lady, but after Sansa had wept her eyes dry, she told herself that it had not been Joffrey’s doing, not truly. The queen had done it; she was the one to hate, her and Arya. Nothing bad would have happened except for Arya.

She could not hate Joffrey tonight. He was too beautiful to hate - Sansa, AGoT

In fact, rather than being similar to Ned, Sansa is more similar to her mother Catelyn here. Just like Catelyn blames and hates an innocent child Jon Snow for something Ned did because she wants to love her husband and be happy with him, similarly Sansa hates Arya for something Joffrey did because she loves Joffrey, wants to marry him and become a queen who can do things like order Arya around.

Notice also in the quote above, how at this point of time, Sansa also blames the queen - Cersei - for Lady’s death and thinks on how Cersei and Arya were the ones to hate. Later, when she wants to prevent Ned from taking her away from KL, she secretly goes to Cersei and tattles all of his plans that he tells her in confidence. She no longer hates or blames Cersei anymore because Cersei is necessary for her to stay in KL and marry Joffrey. Sansa therefore keeps changing and crafting the narrative according to whatever suits her personal self interests instead of having a honest conversation with the truth.

A repeat of this is happening at the Vale where her little cousin is being slowly poisoned by dangerously high doses of SweetSleep and the Maester has outright told Sansa that this is harmful to SweetRobin and she ignores this because Littlefinger’s plans are more important and crafts a narrative that SweetRobin will be perfectly okay.

There can be no one more honest than Ned Stark (The only two instances where he lies is to save his nephew and his daughter) and that is in stark contrast to Sansa herself.

Then there are other aspects like Ned Stark’s relationship with the workers of Winterfell. Again, it’s Ned younger daughter who mirrors him here.

Her father used to say that a lord needed to eat with his men, if he hoped to keep them. “Know the men who follow you,” she heard him tell Robb once, “and let them know you. Don’t ask your men to die for a stranger.“ - Arya, aGoT

Arya had loved nothing better than to sit at her father’s table and listen to them talk. She had loved listening to the men on the benches too; to freeriders tough as leather, courtly knights and bold young squires, grizzled old men-at-arms. She used to throw snowballs at them and help them steal pies from the kitchen. Their wives gave her scones and she invented names for their babies and played monsters-and-maidens and hide-the-treasure and come-into-my-castle with their children. - Arya, AGoT

Sansa knew all about the sorts of people Arya liked to talk to: squires and grooms and serving girls, old men and naked children, rough-spoken freeriders of uncertain birth. Arya would make friends with anybody. This Mycah was the worst; a butcher’s boy, thirteen and wild, he slept in the meat wagon and smelled of the slaughtering block. Just the sight of him was enough to make Sansa feel sick, but Arya seemed to prefer his company to hers. - Sansa, AGoT

Sansa does not like to interact with the workers of the Winterfell and looks down on Arya’s interaction with them while Arya follows in Ned’s footsteps and spends time listening and learning from them.

So, yeah, I can’t think of any one similarity between Ned and Sansa and am always baffled that this is a popular opinion in fandom. Of all the siblings Sansa is the least like Ned, highlighted by the fact that Sansa never thinks of Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell the way Arya, Jon and Bran do.

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Ideas #17: GOT, but make it Rhaenys

After reading a couple very interesting points about feminism and the patriarchy in House of the Dragon, I got angry - angry in the same way I get when I think about Rhaella and Elia's position as victims in the narrative. Then, when I cooled down, I got a plot bunny:

What if Rhaenys, not Aegon, got the Young Griff narrative in ASOIAF? Or: what if Rhaenys survived the Sack of King's Landing?

Just imagine it:

Jaime kills Aerys just like in canon, but unlike in canon, the shock doesn't set in quite so quickly - or maybe just another form of it does, as instead of staying with the king he killed he rushes to find the king's heir, Prince Aegon. He is the only Kingsguard in King's Landing, after all, and Aegon is the new king.

He finds Aegon dead and Elia three-quarters of the way to dying. He kills Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch, saves Rhaenys, and on her dying mother's wish flees with her to Essos.

Jaime raises Rhaenys like a younger sister, filling much the same role of Jon Connington in the books. The difference is that, while it could be argued that Rhaenys is the rightful queen, Jaime has enough on his plate just keeping them both alive. He raises a girl, not a monarch - which is probably for the best anyway.

Key to this fic is: Rhaenys is just a girl. She's not a skilled warrior, though Jaime teaches her enough of knives to defend herself if necessary. She's not a super spy or spymaster, having somehow inherited the Stark bluntness without any blood relation. She's not a femme fatale, though she could be considered pretty enough when she grows out of her lanky androgynous childhood phase. All she is is a smart, stubborn girl who grows into a thoughtful, determined woman.

The rest of canon continues as before, minus Young and Old Griff. Robert becomes king, is cuckolded by his wife, dies; Ned is executed; Jon Snow is sent to the wall; &c. Very little of this matters at first to Jaime or Rhaenys. They're just trying to survive.

But then it does start mattering. Rhaenys might not be rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms per the Targaryen's agnatic-cognatic succession laws (brothers before daughters) - that would be Viserys. But under normal Westerosi (sons before daughters) and Dornish (eldest child first) succession, she is. Once Viserys dies, Rhaenys claim is absolute. If anyone believes she is who she says she is.

But it only starts mattering after Viserys dies.

More specifically, it only starts mattering after Daenerys decides to imprison her dragons in the Great Pyramid of Meereen. Drogon escapes his brothers' fate - and manages to find Rhaenys in the wilds of Essos. Rhaenys chooses to rename him Balerion and becomes his new dragon rider.

Drogon/Balerion is taken as a sign. Maybe not divine providence, but as proof Rhaenys might be able to pull off reconquering a continent like she's starting to consider. And so... they do.

More specifically, they follow somewhat Daenerys' arc in the final seasons of GoT, hiring the Golden Company and taking over Dragonstone while Stannis is away.

And when newly crowned King Jon Snow comes to parlay? Well, Rhaenys is practical. She's a queen who needs military support to gain her crown, he's a king that needs dragons to save Westeros. They join their crowns like Ferdinand and Isabella did Aragon and Castile. Which is to say, they enter into a dynastic marriage, which offers them both legitimacy, military and economic support for both sides, and the potential for desperately needed heirs. It's definitely not love at first sight, but love grows.

Then they go off and fight the white walkers, because ice zombies bringing the apocalypse is an easy lie to disprove, so why lie about it? The exact details of how don't matter - maybe it goes exactly as in the show, maybe it's quick and easy with a dragon and a queen who was raised by a man who was very clear about her father and grandfather's failings and therefore very little of the Targaryen sense of boundless superiority.

The North secure, they turn their attention to the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. It goes better than expected, with the caveat that the southern nobles demand Jon and Rhaenys be crowned monarchs of the Seven Kingdoms together, as even a bastard is better than a woman in many of their eyes. But as Rhaenys is already handling most the day to day running of both their kingdoms while Jon deals with the military, it's one they have no problem agreeing to.

Throughout all of this, no one has any ideas Jon is the son of Prince Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark, least of all Jon.

It comes out one day - perhaps when Jon and Rhaenys have a purple-eyed child despite taking after their Northern and Dornish heritage respectively; perhaps Bran says something - and they have to contend with the fact that the spouse they've come to care for is actually their half-sibling, but it changes little. Rhaenys rules, Jon is just there to lead the armies and keep the southern lords happy.

Throughout all of this, Daenerys is scheming in the background to get her throne back, assuming Rhaenys is a pretender, but her invasion attempt goes rather sideways when Rhaegal abandons her for Jon during the first battle. Unfortunately, not even the lure of other Targaryens can overcome Daenerys' desire to be queen at this point, and so she's eventually repulsed back to the Essos. She remains a thorn in Rhaenys' side for the the rest of her life, but when Daenerys dies without heirs, Viserion rejoins his brothers at Dragonstone.

Bonuses include: 1) The Dornish throwing their support in with Rhaenys, but Oberyn having difficulty with her ability to forgive feuds he's been nursing for years - she loves Jaime despite his inability to save her mother or brother and is willing to marry a Northerner despite Lyanna shaming her mother; 2) Rhaenys smashing the patriarchy, not by acting as a man, but by just being a competent ruler; and 3) Jon being utterly content to be a house husband after the fighting ends, serving more as the Red Keep's master-at-arms than co-ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.

And that's all I have. It may not be particularly coherent, as it was written over the course of a hectic week, but as always feel free to adopt. Just link back.

Other Jon Snow Headcanons: Aegon the Unyielding | Aemon the Adventurous | Lady Arryn | Lady Baratheon | Lady Lannister | Lady Stark | Prince Consort | Prince of Summerhall | Queen Mother

More Terrible Fic Ideas

[asterz-playz-official]

So at the office, while he was away, Michael was basically considered to be a Threat™️ because everyone had wound up seeing or hearing about what had happened to Leitner. Elias being like “oh he just needs some time to work himself out” but in a weirdly sinister way does not help his case.

Jon eventually gets into his own bit of trouble because of the possibility that he could have been an accomplice, has to run away like he did in the original series.

Actually, Michael’s not fully considered a threat by anyone… not anyone who actually knows him, at least.

Melanie’s opinion? Yeah, he was a little weird when she gave her statement to him. Probably evil.

Tim? He’s not responding to anyone’s questions at the moment, and you can kindly fuck off. (Michael saved Sasha’s life with the worms, but he’s not gonna tell the police that he thinks Jon maybe did it instead with some weird mind controlling powers or something. They’ll think that it’s bullshit.)

Sasha’s… conflicted. He has been acting weird recently, but she’s not sure he’s actually evil, she’s actually pretty sure he’s just… stressed. People can change, though, so… she doesn’t really know what to think.

Jon’s. Um. Not there, but he’s SUPER sure the guy’s gone crazy and is killing people for sport.

Martin………………………………………………………….

“It’s… complicated? Probably.”

[CONTINUED BELOW oh you BET there’s more ehehehe]

Nikola, though… oh boy.

Two potential candidates. One of them’s rumored to not really know much of anything, and the other knows plenty. But while both have gotten strong, one of them’s going to be stronger.

Kicker’s that the potentially-stronger one probably won’t actually fit properly because he’s too tall. And he’s all twisted, so that won’t do at all.

So instead, she’s been talking to Jon about the gorilla skin, like in the original series.

Being a super creepy motherfucker and all that.

Y’know.

Anyway, Michael did not get anywhere near death, so Oliver didn’t have to go in and help out or anything, but… Elias has realized that michael keeps getting himself into situations where he nearly gets killed, and does not seem to handle them too well, so he’s experimenting and seeing if he can have Jon be a “backup archivist”, which i’m sure Nikola’s absolutely delighted by…

Still… Michael does get visited by some of the stranger’s gang eventually.

Just “checking in on our dear old archivist!”

(Michael does not feel comforted.)

(He is also not particularly thrilled.)

(Especially when she casually mentions not being able to use his skin in particular, because it “just wouldn’t fit right………….! You understand… don’t you, archivist?”)

He tries to burn her with the spiderweb lighter.

No wonder Jude Perry liked him a lot- (he’s actually now tried to set two things on fire because they were bothering him- but I haven’t posted the part where he yeets a lighter at the other thing yet lol-you’ll see)

Obviously, it’s ineffective… but it lights up her face for a moment before miraculously snapping shut upon hitting the floor.

Or… where her face should be.

Michael screams, his friend finally gets the lights working, and Nikola is gone.

…Fun!

OH HEY WAIT WHAT

OKAY SO

If Michael gets this tape! (Which he definitely would, cause he would have completely missed everything.)

Obviously with a few edits!! But!!!!!!! That shit would just.

Like a goddamn jagged-edged sword getting shoved STRAIGHT through his torso, GOD that stupid bit of commentary would hurt so BAD-

Jesus, Elias, stop trying to make your archivist feel like a disposable paper bag that somehow managed to make it out of the landfill, the hell are you doing, man????

Michael’d probably just try and mirror-jump to Jude Perry or something and be like “hey, my boss is a sick bastard and I hate him, want to help?”

Not sure if I’m /j or /srs, but Martin might be on board lol

Michael’s having more and more trouble with the whole… mirror-hallway trap thing. Although, like with canon, he probably ends up figuring out a way to drag out the whole process of victims slowly kinda going nuts so that he doesn’t actually have to kill anyone, he can just… “bother someone” in order to keep things going.

Which actually winds up working better than the “drive em mad and then whoop there they go” method.

He doesn’t like how it feels, cause it’s basically making a bunch of people go through what Ryan went through, but he tries diffusing the messing-with across more than one victim in order to make it not be as horrible for each of them.

Oh, and on top of that, he still has to get statements.

Does Jon send him the statements he gets (and his own notes on them) after he’s done with them, so that they’re both on the same page with things? (And does it work..?)

And if so, does he get to hear the “dust to dust” one, finally?

*Sound of Michael nearly popping a stress ball open with one hand*

(>:(((( Bruh Gertrude what the fuck)

AND HEARING HIS OWN VOICE ON THE TAPE…

Just rewinding and playing it over and over again. Just to hear it.

It hurts to know that his voice doesn’t quite sound the same.

He’s lost the stutter that he hated so much. He almost misses it.

Might actually mumble the words a little, in a half-hopeful attempt at getting his voice to sound like it did back then again. It works, for a moment or two, and in that little sliver of time, he feels like… himself again. Like Michael.

But he can’t hold it for long.

Still… it was there.

He was… there, somewhere. He wasn’t completely gone… so maybe there was still hope.

(HhhgfhhHhhHHHHHH I wanna hug him so badddddddddddddd aaaaaaaaaa 🫠)

Anyway, so Jon gets taken by Orsinov-

And the only reason Michael doesn’t pick up every time Elias tries to call him to tell him to get Jon is cause he’s got Elias’s number registered in his phone as “old sod” and just sits there pressing “decline” every time the phone starts ringing with that name.

It’s very fun to do.

However, eventually Martin’s the one who calls him, sounding a little bit panicked, and explains what’s going on, and Michael feels like an asshole, rushes out the door- (“hello good morning I’ve got to go get Jonathan out of situations he keeps getting in don’t kill me don’t get killed please don’t leave things on voicemail if they’re important, lesson learned, ohgosh bye-”)

So the Michael appears! No doom threat, just Michael apologizing for being “so incredibly late” and being like “oh good lord these are creepy oh sh- you’ve got a gag on- I’m very sorry-”

And he notices that Jon’s…. Looking at him, like… he wants to ask something, but doesn’t know if he should.

Michael… forces a smile, getting the feeling — based on the last tape he’d gotten from jon — that he knows what he wants to ask about. “Can we… t…t-“ oh, of course- and just at the moment he’d rather it not be an issue, here it was, again, in the way of him getting his words across. “It- I- We don’t- there isn’t much… much time to share… stories.”

“She won’t be back for-“

“I just don’t want to.”

He didn’t mean it to come out sounding so snappy, and winced a little at his own voice. “She…she’s just… a bit of a hard subject, as of right now…”

Jon looks a little bit… desperate, though, and it occurs to him that he most likely hasn’t been able to get any new statements in days.

If he were to go through the mirrors… he might not be able to keep himself together in there. Or he might get lost, or…

“Ask me.”

Jon blinks, looking a bit confused. “Didn’t you say you-“

“Yes, I know. It doesn’t feel good, but if you don’t-“ he takes a deep breath, and sighs heavily. “Please. Just… this once. And it’s all… good.”

…”What was she like?”

Oh, that question hurts.

A string of expressions pass across his face as he tries to think of the words for the things Jon wants to pull out of him. Needs him to let out.

“…different… she- she told me a lie.

I thought I knew… why she was who she was. Why I was… her… assistant.

I- but i didn’t. Really. She was cold… and… I just fell for it.

He takes another deep breath and sighs, but… no, it… isn’t done, is it.

It all spills out, like blood gushing from a deep, arterial wound.

He tries to twist it, to lessen the tearing sensation that the eye gives as it drags the information out of him, but it just… happens. The words aren’t quite his to control.

The Sannikov trip is the most painful to feel.

Once, it might have been a tale told in horror, of the near-death experience of his mentor, the old woman who fell over the side of a ship in the middle of a storm. About how he almost went insane, but that could have been a dream, and she had been saved, and then they had gone home again.

He told Jon all of this story, the statement riddled with sarcasm and frustration, and hurt.

And then he told… a different story.

The one he’d had in that vision, or dream, or nightmare- whatever it had been.

He told the eye what it already knew, and — in a way — begged it to answer him, instead. Tell him if he had just been… a pebble to be kicked into a trap so that it could be made safe to pass through.

He explained his fear that Gertrude had, in fact, killed one of her old assistants, a woman named Emma Harvey. She’d burned her alive.

And then he recounted his terror upon waking up in the office that one horrible night, when the doors had not been the right doors, and had nearly taken him and swallowed him and taken him apart.

How the fire had roared around him.

The rest of the story, Jon already knew, and so his talking should have ended there.

But he mentioned something he didn’t want to.

About how much Jon had reminded him of her, when they’d first met.

And with this revelation, the story ended.

At once, Michael slid to the floor, his whole body drained of energy, fighting to keep itself together.

It was not a moment too soon.

A door had opened behind him. A horribly familiar one, and as it loomed over Jon’s bound form and Michael’s barely stable one, a voice floated through the room, coming from the figure standing at its threshold.

“That was a very, very stupid thing to do, archivist.”

[deadhumourist]

YSC: A Game of Realities

It’s only fitting that the month of love is dedicated to the man who chooses love instead of choosing sides, right?  This is a dramedy to make up for the dark January fic. Thank you to @just-here-for-the-moment for encouraging my nonsense.

Summary: An unexpected turn in a battle with The Mountain has Prince Oberyn end up in a situation that he couldn't have imagined, and you have to help him through it. The ride is bumpy until you discover something that will change your perception of yourself, of Oberyn and of reality, forever. This is part 1, more to follow!

Part of the wonderful @yearofcreation2023 challenge!

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x F!Reader

Rating: Mature - language, later chapters will be explicit. 

WC: 1835

Warnings: Language, battle scenes, mention of death and burial, shaky boundary lines between sci-fi and fantasy, smells and Olympic-level sass because I'm three raccoons in a trenchcoat. Reader has no physical description, and uses she/her pronouns. Whole fic not beta’d.

Author Masterlist | Taglist in bio.

-----

Doran is seated in the centre of the plush sofa in his receiving room. The intricate patterns and warm, rich colours sit beautifully with the high-ceilinged space, giving it an air of grandeur, fitting for the royal family of Dorne. In the corner a lush palm sways in the light breeze, in stark contrast to the tense atmosphere between the dark-haired brothers. 

“I have been more than fair, Oberyn. You have visited the capital, said your piece - this unquenchable thirst for retribution will drag the people of Dorne into the fire if it does not end with you.” 

Oberyn scoffs at his older brother, bitterness simmering in his words. “Words alone will not bring Elia back.” 

“Neither will violence.” Doran snaps. 

He is tired. His younger brother has always been fiery, passionate to a fault. With vengeance blowing this kindling into an open flame, he has little hope of discouraging the man from his course of action. But he has to try. 

“Reconsider, Oberyn. It will not change what happened in the past, and you could lose your life in the process. Will you have me put both of my siblings into the ground?” he intones softer. 

His brother continues to pace the floor like a caged viper, seething with a rage so deep-seated that he himself doesn’t know where to go with it. His beloved sister had died at the hands of the Lannisters and it seemed like his brother was ready to break bread with them. 

“I am not retracting my challenge to the Mountain. I will spill his blood the way he did hers.” 

With one last look at Doran’s pained expression, he flings the door open and starts down the hall to his quarters. 

Concealed behind a corner close to Doran’s rooms, Ellaria stands stock still. She had stopped to listen in, having heard the loud exchange from the hallway. The Mountain’s reputation as a killer is known far and wide, and she is worried. She trusts Oberyn’s skill in a fight, but with the Lannisters you never know what surprises are hiding in the wings. 

“I won't allow you to leave me alone in this world, lover.” she whispers into the darkness before she turns on her heel and makes for the Maester’s chambers.

When she exits hours later, she is holding a black elixir which promises that Oberyn will come out of the fight unscathed. 

As she stalks to her private room, the glass vial burns in her hand - is new, otherworldly and unseen by anyone outside of the inner circle of Maesters. Oberyn will see it as a betrayal but she will keep him alive no matter the cost. 

The Maester had warned her several times during the consultation. 

“You are absolutely sure you want to play with dark magic, dear?” 

Ellaria nodded, watching him take down different bottles from his shelves. 

When he started pouring the contents of one into a mixing bowl, she gripped his arm hard. 

“A mere potion will not do, Maester, it needs to ensure that Oberyn stays alive.” 

He simply raised an eyebrow at her, continued and then swung round to heave a large grey grimoire off the same shelves. 

“And so it will.” 

Ellaria now clutches the vial closer to her as she increases her speed. She can’t help feeling unsettled about the liquid in her possession, even though she requested it. The Maester was insistent with his instructions. 

“Stand clear of the arena, and when the time is right, throw the vial onto the ground, so it breaks near the opponent. He will be transported by magic to a place where he can never harm anyone."

She regards him carefully, and he answers the question she doesn't ask. 

"It is dark magic, and the price will be exacted for such a request."

She knows he does not mean coin. 

Reaching her chambers, she closes the door behind her and places the vial among her jewels. 

As she hides the glass object, she hears the clanging of spears outside her window and a growling laugh from Oberyn, who seems to have bested his opponent, undoubtedly not for the first time. 

She closes her eyes and fervently hopes that this will work. 

—-

The Dornish procession proudly walks into the arena, parting like a golden, shimmering sea to allow their second-born prince to move to his place. Ellaria is already waiting for him there, where he fastens the last of his armour. He kisses her passionately before gripping his spear, and although there are tears in her eyes, she can’t bring herself to utter any words of warning or apology. 

He enters into the fight, spear twirling in the air, a fanciful prince intent on taking what was taken from him. Oberyn taunts the man, goading him into admitting to his crimes, while the clanging of metal echoes into the surrounding mountains. 

Ellaria knows Oberyn, she sees the minute gritting of his teeth while The Mountain fights the man she loves with sheer strength; he does not give an inch between them and does not give Oberyn the satisfaction of responding either.

She recognises her lover’s white-hot anger, unspooling like a tethered ball of thread dropped into an abyss, making him reckless.

The mountain’s spear catches the edge of Oberyn’s and with a sickening crackle of wood, the tip is snapped off. 

Ellaria gasps out loud, panic rising in her throat and stealing her breath before she can take it. 

She reaches into her thin mustard-coloured cloak, retrieves the vial and…throws. 

Her throw causes the vial to sail briefly on a gust of wind, and instead of hitting The Mountain, the vial crashes in front of Oberyn’s feet, creating a vortex of black smoke in front of him. It fizzes and crackles like sparklers set alight.

The vortex lurches sickeningly towards him and the next moment Oberyn is gone. 

As the black smoke dissipates rapidly the only sound heard is Ellaria’s anguished screams.

—-

With your chin resting on the heel of your hand, you marvel how it can feel like 19 hours have passed, when in reality you just cracked hour 5 of your shift. 

You are in a bad mood to boot. An earlier table had given you the run around and then didn't tip on a huge bill. Now you just want to get the hell out of the place, put on some pajamas and watch a series. 

You're about to get up when a loud clanging sound comes from outside the restaurant. The open area behind the restaurant is known to attract some troublemakers so this isn't exactly a surprise. 

Pete, the smarmy manager on duty stops in front of you."Go tell those kids to stop messing around here or we'll call the authorities."

Heaving a deep sigh, you get up and walk to the back of the restaurant, throwing the metal door open in front of you. 

You listlessly stomp to the dumpster, and stop, hands perched on your hips. 

"Okay dillholes, enough fun for today, get a move on."

You hear a plastic ruffling inside the dumpster.

Rolling your eyes, you check your watch. Good lord, the last 30 minutes of your shift is starting to feel like several lifetimes. 

When you look up, you see a leg swung over the side of the dumpster, followed by a brownish thing, which materializes into a human as it climbs out of the big metal container. 

The man shouts at you, looking around. He's clearly aggravated, his hair sticking up in all directions. 

"Where is The Mountain?"

You stare a long time before your brain manages to make your tongue move. 

"You're in the city buddy, there are no mountains here."

The man, seemingly satisfied that the geographical feature isn't close by, sniffs himself and pulls a face. 

"This place smells like week-old waste" he yells at you from where he stands, somehow managing to make the statement drip with distaste.  

The cheek of this guy is unbelievable and you feel your hackles rising at how rude he is. 

"Yeah? We'll that's rich coming from someone who looks like a fancy fuckin' armadillo!"

For a moment Oberyn is speechless. He's no shrinking violet but no one has ever dared speak to Dornish royalty like that. When he finds his tongue again, his hands automatically go to his hips and he cocks his chin out at you. 

“Come over here in your peasant clothes and say that to my face."

“I can see your damn face from here, and these are not..” 

You look down, taking in the uniform and apron with a few food splatters.

“...okay I’ll give you the clothes. What….were you dumpster diving then?” 

Finally taking a moment, he looks around, but everything seems wrong. Out of place. 

"This does not look like King's Landing, even if it smells the same” he says, now a little more subdued than when he first yelled at you. 

"Ummm…no. You're at the back of a restaurant and you were in the trash a minute ago. Listen, I don’t know what your deal is but you gotta go.”

Oberyn spins on his heel, looking around. "I would gladly, but it would appear I am not in any recognisable part of Westeros."

The name sounds like something you’ve heard before but you shake it off, trying to focus on the man in front of you instead.

“What’s your name?”

The man seems to be thinking about something for a while, then replies.

“Oberyn, Prince of Dorne.” 

“Okay, Oberyn, Prince of Dorne, as the song goes - you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here. My shift is pretty much over, is there someone I can call to come get you?” 

He looks at you blankly. The man cuts a ridiculous sight standing next to the dumpster in his leather outfit, just staring at you like he’s trying to work out some impossible math problem.

You sigh, throwing your hands up. With this one it seems to have devolved into a process of elimination when it comes to getting any information, because he’s either coming off some insane drug-induced bender or he has memory loss. Either way he’ll need to be checked out, or at the very least take a goddamned shower. 

“Look, are you dangerous? Are you going to try to kill me if I take you somewhere in my car?” 

The man’s expression morphs from blank curiosity to disgusted.

“We do not hurt women and children in Dorne. You will be safe in my company, but where are we going?”

“Home, my home. You can’t stand around out here like you just came from Comic Con or a Leather Daddy convention, and you don’t seem to have a clue where you are so…unless you have a better idea…” you jerk a thumb over your shoulder and start turning around to clock out. 

As you walk back to the restaurant, you hear the crunch of his books on the gravel  behind you and idly wonder if this is how those true crime episodes start. Finding a mildly threatening guy and loading him into your car. 

This might be a huge mistake. 

[myrc3lla]

@dcviline asked: Why I acted the way I did…Why I was so pissed off. It will never make any sense to you because I don’t know how to explain. (cersei)

"No,   it   won't.   And   I   am   not   sure   I   would   be   satisfied.   You   send   Taena's   little   spies   to   send   me   moontea."   She   was   almost   offended   by   the   thought   of   it.   Of   course   her   mother   knew   of   the   marriage,   and   the   consummation   and   her   first   thought,   instead   of   happiness,   was   to   get   Myrcella   rid   of   the   possibility   of   becoming   a   mother.   Myrcella   is   not   there   to   stay   long,   and   she   has   Stormland   guards   with   her   to   make   sure   she   leaves   the   secret   tunnels   of   the   keep   safe,   returning   to   Storm's   End   by   the   end   of   the   night.   "You   kept   making   excuses   to   stop   me   from   being   married   to   Trystane   and   now,   you   wish   to   ruin   the   one   thing   that   could   bring   peace   to   the   realm.   He   could've   beheaded   me,   if   he   wished   to.   He   chose   to   create   an   alliance   and   I   was   blessed   it   grew   to   something   else."   Love.   A   marriage   of   love   was   better   than   anything,   a   rarity   in   the   world.   And   her   mother   was   offended,   thinking   her   a   fool.   She   too   shares   Tywin   Lannister's   blood   and   knows   how   to   move   a   board.

  "I   married   him   in   a   haste   that   night   because   I   knew   you   would   not   dare   to   hurt   him.   I   keep   your   secrets   even   when   I   know   them   to   be   true.   I   am   a   Baratheon   in   name   alone   and   due   to   the   truth   I   know,   I   have   to   double   down   on   it.   And   you   are   ruined   that.   Do   you   wish   me   dead?"   She   keeps   calling   her   a   lioness,   a   Lannister.   Myrcella   damns   the   name   and   wears   Baratheon   clothes,   details   of   Targaryen   red   and   black   in   her   coat,   belonging   to   Aegon   but   the   young   woman   was   no   longer   a   child.   She   had   grown.   "You   would   rather   have   another   war   and   another   Joffrey   than   entertain   the   idea   of   peace   and   life."   If   the   war   continues,   she   could   not   stop   her   future.  

Her   mother   would   die   if   she   does   not   agree   to   any   of   the   terms.   "Grandsire   killed   Princess   Elia.   Aegon   could've   killed   me   for   the   crimes   against   his   mother   and   sister.   Instead,   he   chose   to   listen   to   my   advice."   How   would   that   feel   then,   that   the   Stormlands   support   the   dragon   because   she   advice   him   so.   That   Dorne   is   ready   to   support   him   too.

[horizon-verizon]

What do you think of Cersei? Do you like her character? (Both show and book versions)

*EDITED POST* (11/6/23)

Watched GoT before reading the books. 

I genuinely loved & was fascinated by Cersei (as a character). There was never a dull moment with her and her nonsense.

She actually made sense behaviorally:

[me] raised to believe in the exceptionalism of her house and her father, overly entitled due to her need to resist her father's devaluing of her, selling her body out for power, and her need to practice power. Her need to protect her kids and claim to put them before anything else was rife with hypocrisy, yet I also was moved by her losing Joffrey. Why? Because you could see she actually loved him in her own fucked up way and she herself was both understandable (in the sense that I could see how she turned out the way she did hoe the patriarchy failed her immensely), active, and not boring. I loved that she was bold and that she was bold enough, since childhood, to fuck her own brother and use the Targs as part of justification. I think of her self-inflicted loneliness that comes with her narcissism: she wants love and power but she can never truly accept the power and love she does receive (being Queen Dowager and having Jaime so into her) because she wants perfect, absolute power and to be seen/be "perfect"ly in control, in appearance, in manner and be equal to the sort of man she imagines she could be if she were Jaime...to be "Jaime" (also why and how she doesn't actually really understand or can relate to anyone, even her own lover since both were children) and to have all the power a woman or man can have over every other woman in Westeros. She's compelling because her desires are intense and clumsily handled. Kirby describes Cersei as "childlike' in her emotional control. For some, she's very relatable in how she self-sabotages her need for just...more. Some do not even have to be narcissistic to relate to Cersei so much as know what it feels like to realize you'll never have a thing denied to you and still desire it, sometimes go too far in trying to embody/obtain something like it.

[thoughts and being reminded after watching TikTok's Gamesof ThronesHistorian] Before Robert whispers some other girl's name on their wedding night, Cersei also has an issue with not "measuring" up to the masculinized standards of competent personhood, so Robert's revealing that he wants and continues to want Lyanna over her pokes at Cersei's deepest insecurity. Cersei expected to marry Rhaegar after Tywin dumbly got her hopes up and she spent a lot of her time fantasizing about being with him and being Queen--hopes are dashed after Rhaegar marries Elia instead when Aerys dismisses Tywin's suggestion--he calls Tywin a "servant", thus if Cersei ever heard this (she likely did) she would also have been mortified and jilted. After the rebellion goes in Robert's favor, she marries him and she finally gets to be Queen (the position dangled in front of her like a prize since childhood, snatched away, and now she "has" it back), she discovers that the queenship doesn't make up for Robert's clear preference for the same girl "her" Rhaegar got himself supposedly killed for. She thought she "won" against Lyanna & Elia, that they wouldn't "haunt" her ruined dreams, and that her marrying Robert would fix everything but the marriage only traps her with a man who will never see her without thinking of what he's amissing with Lyanna. And it quickly becomes abusive. For someone like Cersei, who grew up being told she is the most beautiful and thus an exemplar of women and having almost nothing for herself but that AND being queen as Tywin always promised to her own self (bc her patriarchal society affords way less in terms of prestige, value, and recognized respect to women as it does men & boys AND makes physical features comparatively final measure of worth for girls and women]), it's not that hard to see that Cersei's feelings are not baseless, totally irrational, nor groundless. Her already existing insecurities mushroomed into a plague that also sharpened her need to be "perfect", and counteract the feeling of never measuring up. Her emotions are so intense and uncontrolled and she remains totally unaware of her loneliness & she doesn't really ever address this properly to understand how she can at least psychologically and independently believe in her own strength and develop such strength, so she comes across as childlike.

That being said, I hated her as a person both in the show and the book because of her abusiveness of her brothers, her children, her delusions of grandeur, the disrespect and audacious spitting at the Martells (when it was Tywin who enabled Elia and her kids’ murders) -- I don’t remember, but it is totally within Cersei’s character to be glad for Elia’s murder out of jealousy and entitlement.

I also experienced abuse from my own mother and she is very much like Cersei in a lot of ways. It was refreshing to see that onscreen and in a book. But I also understand her because a huge part of why she is so evil and power-hungry is because of society and her own family continuously objectifying, dispossessing, and degrading her for being female, AND then she makes the unconscious-conscious "decision" to hate women and try to embody her father (unperceived flaws and all) to feel in control and accuse agency and political power for herself while using the avenues available to a woman simultaneously (making her extremely hypocritical). Tywin treated hers as a broodmare and political device more than he ever seemed to treat her as someone to care for and never seemed to have had a truly intimate moment with her. And, as a cis woman who looks "feminine" enough and who was born into a family that is heavily on the conservative side despite being of African descent, I have experienced what she has several times. Her hypocrisy, her hungry need, her falling into her own traps and the fact I can really understand her while being disgusted by her at times are what allure me to her.

Therefore, she is one of my favorite ASoIaF villains. Maybe even my top? IDK.

Check out these 2 Posts I wrote about her where I'm a bit more analytical about her: