#she never kills beggars. in fact she helps them when she can

[folkdances]

this is completely unfounded btw just drawing on what i've read and seen and observed but i think the reason so many cis women love stories like acotar is because it provides the illusion of power all while providing a safety net. let me explain. feyre is from the very beginning said to be very self reliant, she knows how to hunt and is capable with weaponry, because she's been tasked with the role of housekeeping for her childish, stubborn sisters and her frail, passive father. she's a painter, but she doesn't get to indulge this hobby often out of necessity as her family lives in severe poverty after losing all their considerable wealth to forces outside of their control. feyre butchers a fae disguised as a wolf and in turn is whisked off to prythian to pay off the life debt. here is the first token: having all of your arduous responsibilities taken off your shoulders. not having to feed and care for and deal with anything mundane; feyre is taken to the spring court where she lives in relative comfort and ease, having her every need met despite putting up a fight the entire way, juggling interactions with her monstrous and attractive "captor", tamlin. tamlin is rugged and battle hardened, but sjm makes sure to show us his soft side multiple times. he plays the fiddle, he tells dirty jokes to make a pretty girl laugh. he's also hundreds of years old. but he's not dangerous enough. sjm knows she needs to take this story somewhere and that readers have mostly grown bored of the quaint, pastoral balm of the spring court, so she has feyre stuffed into a wedding gown for a wedding she doesn't want to have only to be rescued by rhysand.

rhysand is sexy, he is insanely powerful, and he is a mystery, all reasons why he was the favourable candidate to tamlin. he, too, has centuries over feyre's lifespan, centuries of life experience and knowledge. he can help feyre in every aspect of her life, and in return, all she has to do is play housekeeper to his "shattered soul". sjm thoroughly established rhysand's power, both political and magical, in book one. however, she also established him as being amarantha's consort, giving him common ground ("shared trauma") with feyre. he has a soft side, she promises the reader. rhysand emphasizes that feyre can be an active player in her own life, he teaches her to read and harness her abilities. feyre becomes the high lady of the night court, a position that's never existed before, because women are not given that sort of power in this fantasy world. here is the illusion of female power: there's nothing stopping other women in this world from accruing power, and sjm prides herself on having written a feminist narrative. however, ianthe and amarantha, two of the most powerful non-night court women, are both vile and awful people. ianthe prides herself on her 'fertility', and is in text a rapist; amarantha is a tyrant and a despot who is, in her last moments, a beggar. feyre is better than them because, unlike the other two, her power was instilled through marriage. her power was given to her by tying her name to the name of a man.

rhys draws feyre in slowly with the promise of mutual respect, a home, friends with which she can have witty banter, and of course, a monster sex life, all while letting her live her role as a powerful woman in a powerful, dangerous, seductive role. i think the core principle of acotar is that a woman can be powerful all while not having any power at all; feyre is killed and remade as a high fae but with the same personality; she wines and whinges, she tries to puzzle out problems, she is the illusion of taking control of one's own life by pretending to have ducked out from beneath the patriarchy in some clever, self-made way when in fact a man was the one who saved her and her marriage to the man was what gave her a title. her decisions are driven by love for men who apart from being able to fuck her real good and have witty banter with her, have no personality and no motivations beyond a bland sense of duty/patriotism to their countries or courts. power without power. power with the safety net of a man more powerful than yourself to catch you. limited power with an unlimited illusion. and i think the reason why real-world women love this series so much despite it being a pantomime of every way it claims to be progressive and female-focused is exactly because there's none of this in the real world. in the real world no smirking well-endowed man is going to be able to kiss your cheek and tell you your problems are fixable, your trauma is completely curable, and providing a fantasy of sexual fulfillment in an unhappy or 'tired' or just normal marriage, and acotar and media like it provide a neat escape to that reality.

[ramblinganthropologist]

Final rites

Summary: It took a year, but Cherche and Cahel Mahariel are finally ready. They just need to get the soil to the same state. Digging a hole is easy... putting Tamlen to rest is the hard part.

(Set after Awakening)

---

The soil was cold and hard when he started digging.

Up above, it was a sunny day in the spring. All around, the world was coming back to life. Trees were in bloom, sending the sweet sent of their blossoms to the air. Birds chirped their greetings, the grass rustled with new cubs and fawns, and he…

Well, Cahel was digging a hole.

“Ground’s as hard as his damn head.”

At least he wasn’t alone. Next to him, swearing as she stabbed into the dirt with a shovel, was Cherche. In front of them, they had moved a decent amount of dirt. However, there was still more to go, and the soil wasn’t right yet for their purposes.

So, he kept shoveling.

“How far do you think we need to go until we’re past the Blight soil?” He frowned as he hit a rock and used his shovel to toss it to the pile of dirt above him. “It all still looks pretty nasty to me.”

Cherche responded with a shrug of her shoulders and another shovelful of dirt. “I’m a hunter, not a digger. We keep going until it looks like dirt.”

But if she wasn’t a digger, how was she going to know if it looked right?

Cahel didn’t say that though. To the surprise of many, he at last learned to hold his tongue sometimes. This was one of them, and instead he focused on clearing the would-be hole of tainted dirt, stained dark by the blood of darkspawn that had leeched down after countless battles from the year prior.

Hard to believe it was a year…

Sweat trickled down his brow as he leaned back for a second. Even with the dirt on his arms, he could still see the lightning bolt scars that snaked up from his wrists to nearly his shoulders. They were cold to the touch and had been since he had killed the Archdemon. Healers were pretty sure they would always be like that, but it wasn’t like there was much to go off of there. After all, no Warden had ever survived ending the Blight.

No doubt he was written up in a hundred books now finding their way across Thedas. Sadly, they’d never know why he’d survived – mostly because he wouldn’t tell them. Morrigan was owed that much secrecy in his mind.

“You can’t be tired already, da’len.”

He blinked back to reality – Cherche had stopped digging too, and she wore a strange look on her face. Most days he could read her, but lately she’d been a little difficult. Maybe it was repeated contact – in all forms – with her qunari lover, or maybe it was just the both of them falling into new duties. As close as they were, they didn’t spend all their time together. Maybe this was just growing up.

At any rate, he offered her an awkward grin as he grabbed his shovel. “Guess I zoned out for a second. Sorry, mamae.”

After that, they kept digging. Much to his dismay, the soil was still dark and stained with the fetid blood of the darkspawn that had died above it. If not for the fact he had bathed in the stuff the year prior, he probably would’ve been throwing up at this point. Lucky for him, he had gone mostly nose-blind to the stuff, so on he went one shovel at a time.

If they were lucky, they wouldn’t dig straight to the Deep Roads…

“Just so you know, I’m heading back to Par Vollen in a week.” Cherche threw another shovel of dirt to the pile above them. “Sten needs all the help he can get.”

Cahel’s stomach shifted, but he nodded. “I figured as much. Tell him I said hi and that I’m doing my best to keep the warriors in check here.”

Miris helped there, though not much. The senior warden wasn’t exactly a well-trained warrior. As a matter of fact, he was a whirlwind with a maul. It was great for solo combat, but it didn’t help when you were training newly joined Wardens who had never held a proper weapon before. Lucky for him, they had a few with more experience.

Unlucky for him, one of those warriors was Oghren… but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“You mean don’t tell him you’re getting help from a certain dwarf.” A smile quirked Cherche’s face as she threw a rock. When his jaw dropped, she laughed. “You’re not exactly subtle, da’len. Maybe once you get your vallaslin your face won’t be so easy to read.”

He doubted that, mostly because he had no idea if and when he was going to get his tattoos. The Blight was over, but he had lost track of his clan. For all he knew, Marethari and the rest of clan Sabrae could be anywhere. They could even be dead for all he knew, but he hoped against everything else that he was wrong there. At the least, he couldn’t contact them, and that meant that his keeper was out of bounds for the ritual.

So… he was kind of low on options.

“Maybe.” Cahel frowned as he stuck his shovel down hard and chucked the remains aside. However, he blinked after. “Hey… is that soil lighter?”

The patch he had just uncovered certainly didn’t look dark. More importantly, as he prodded it with his toe, it wasn’t clumped or compacted. To him, it just felt like fresh dirt. While he wasn’t a digger either, something about it made his heart feel light.

“Let me check.” Cherche ducked down, running some of it through her fingers. A pregnant moment passed, before her face broke into a rare grin. “Yeah, this is the good stuff. We just need to dig a bit further and it’ll be perfect.”

Cahel’s heart skipped a beat as he found a second wind he didn’t even knew he had. The next few inches of dirt flew, until they had both cleared a respectable patch of earth free from the grime of the Blight. Here, there was nothing but good soil.

Perfect for growth.

Cherche laid her shovel aside in favor of reaching for her bag. From it, she produced a small pouch, much like the one they both wore on their belts. She cradled it close as she brought it back down, joining him in the center of the hole.

“Well… hope he likes it.”

Her voice was quiet as she opened the pouch, tipping the contents into her hand. They had long since emptied it of most of its contents, but they had kept this one aside for this purpose. Thus, the sun above reflected the dull surface of the seed that rested in her palm, waiting to be buried.

A lump formed in Cahel’s throat as he glanced around. “Do you think it’ll grow without him here?”

It wasn’t like they had another option. Normally, they would have buried the seed with the dead elf’s body in order to help the resulting tree grow. But they didn’t have a body to bury – they had burned it after it had fallen.

His blood would’ve tainted the soil anyway… but it still left him cold thinking about it.

“If it’s anything like him, it’ll grow to spite us both and break the foundation with its roots.” A fondness leaked through her tone as she knelt down. Cahel joined her, and both their hands covered the seed.

It had taken a year… but they were finally giving Tamlen the rights he deserved.

“Da’len, this is all we can do for you.” Cherche’s voice was still quiet as she pressed the seed into the dirt. She then moved to the side to allow Cahel to pile the dirt on top to begin covering it up.

This was the point he needed to say something – a wish for his peace, a hope the tree produced would grow strong and true. Something to honor Tamlen’s memory and hope that he was finally at peace after the hell he had gone through.

Instead, his tears turned the soil dark.

“I’m sorry, Tam… we couldn’t help you.” Tears streamed down his face, and he made no move to wipe them away. “I’m so sorry, lethallin. You deserved so much better than to die like that… I wished I could’ve saved you…”

It was hard to say anything else as the sobbing took him over. All he could do was stay there in the dirt, crying over the grave that would never hold a body. This was the last thing he could do for his friend, and he was even messing that up.

Some friend he was. He couldn’t even bury him right.

“Not like I did much better, da’len.”

A soft voice, hard as ice, drew him back to reality. Cahel sniffed hard as he wiped his eyes on the back of his dirty hand – no doubt making himself muddy in the process. Over his shoulder, Cherche was standing back. Her usual unreadable face was… different.

She looked pained.

He sniffed again, this time for the mucus, as he stood. “You did your best, it was our-“

Cherche snorted, but there was nothing funny about it. “Tamlen was my apprentice. Some teacher I am.”

It was a tone he had heard once before, when she had glared at him upon regaining consciousness. She had been so angry with him when he had slayed the Archdemon, yelling it was supposed to be her job.

Her job… kind of like Tamlen had been.

His tears dried at last as he took a shaky breath. “Guess we’re not so over him after all, huh?”

“I’ve been told time heals all wounds.” Judging by the fact she still cringed whenever he pulled his hair completely out of his face, Cahel doubted that greatly. Still, they had briefly moved past the issue, ready to bury it much like the seed. “You definitely wet it enough, da’len.”

At that, his cheeks cover and he glanced to the side. “Just… helping things along, I guess.”

Was it his best lie? Absolutely not, but at that moment he needed all the grace he could get. After all, he was standing in a grave that would never hold a body. In odd situations like that, leeway was a given.

Cherche’s face lightened despite all that. “Oh, almost forgot…”

She grabbed her bag and dug through it for a few moments, before bringing out a small packet. Her touch was light, almost reverent as she approached the seed. Then they unceremoniously turned it on its end and dumped the contents on top. A dark powder soon settled, with its only remarkable feature being a chunk of white that almost…

Cahel blinked this time. “Are those…”

“Yeah. I grabbed some of his ashes after…” She shook his head. “Figured he should be with his seed, even if we couldn’t bring the body back proper.”

At last – it was a proper grave.

Cahel shook his head as they both reached for their shovels to begin filling up the hole. “You could’ve mentioned that.”

His mentor-turned-mother snorted as she worked. “What, admit to carrying around ashes? What am I, some kind of Andrastian?”

Yeah… good point. He’d concede that one to her.

It didn’t take them long to fill the hole full of flurry, non-Blighted soil. Before long, they were standing on a covered grave, with nothing to show for it but dirty hands and sore bodies. It was supposed to be different than this – the keeper would say something, people would be there to mourn.

Instead, Tamlen got two exhausted Wardens.

“I guess we should say something…” The lump was back in Cahel’s throat as he stared down at the covered hole. “I…”

Tears threatened his eyes again, but he swallowed hard. “Rest easy wherever you are, Tamlen. You deserve that much.”

It was all he could say in the end. What else could he ever mention about the man who had come so close to being his first love? It would’ve just rung hollow coming from him, so he kept it to himself.

As he stepped back, Cherche approached. “You were a fucking idiot for touching that mirror, lethallin.”

She swallowed, before adding. “Give them all hell, understood?”

And so spoke the final order of a teacher to her apprentice.

Around them, life continued. The birds still chirped, the grass rustled, and the clouds shifted above their heads. If nature noticed what was going on, it simply didn’t care. In a weird way, that was comforting.

Cahel allowed for a breath as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Guess we ought to head back to the Keep.”

He looked back briefly at the hole, before breaking off a nearby branch and stabbing it into the ground. No doubt it would fall with time and animal activity, but for the moment it stood there as a reminder should he want to come visit. In a few years, maybe there would even be a sapling.

Of course, the seed could die for all he knew… but he was hoping for the best.

“Yeah, I need to give Howe a few pointers in archery. His form’s gotten sloppy since I last saw him.” Cherche cracked her knuckles for emphasis. “It looks like a refresher course is in order.”

This caused Cahel to laugh as he fell in step behind her. “Oh, he’s going to hate that. He’s absolutely terrified of you, all the archers are.”

“The fear will teach them.” Her eyes were lighter. “Oh, and da’len? Don’t think that Sten is in the dark about you  using Oghren to train the warriors.”

…

Well,  shit.

Her laughter rang out now as they walked back to the keep. It was a harsh sound, one that threatened to rival the birds, but it was one he was happy to hear. Well… mostly happy. He had been trying to appear competent after all.

“And here I thought I was being subtle.”

Another snicker. “Hard to be subtle when your only options are a street brawler, a drunk, and a literal corpse.”

Hey, the literal corpse did a decent job of keeping his shield up… and Miris was pretty good solo…

Still, a lightness settled into Cahel’s heart as he spotted the spires of Vigil’s Keep. There would no doubt be heavy training ahead of him as he continued to rebuild Ferelden’s Wardens, but he could at least put this part of his past behind him.

He might not have managed to save Tamlen… but he had put him to rest. That was more than most victims of the Blight could say.

Now… time to watch Nathaniel Howe get his ass handed to him in an archery competition. He could hardly wait.

[parallelcinema]

Why Indians are Boycotting Bollywood Films?

It is a fact that Bollywood had links with Dawood Mafia in past. Bollywood people use to entertain them and used their money to produce films. (Jab baap Dawood k saath photo khichwayega, to bacchey to Sonam Kappor jaise....jaaatu to paida honge hi).

Today the relationship cannot be seen visually, but it still there is in their art form. Actors like Aamir Khan have this tendency to fool the Indian Audience with the content of the film, he has targeted Hinduism and mocked Hindu Gods in his film PK.

But Hindus who are the most tolerant community in the world made the film a Hit, later realizing that they were fooled. They will not do it directly, but they insert their evil agenda here and there. And once caught, they later will not forget to play the Victim Card, saying sorry and all.

Kareena Khan, a Bollywood actress, even challenged the Indian Audience to not go to the theatres if they can't digest nepotism in Bollywood.

The result was seen when her film "Lal Singh Chadda" was released, people Boycotted it, and it became a disaster at the Box Office. People who even watched it didn't like it. It is the copy of a Hollywood masterpiece "The Forest Grump".

Bollywood has a history of targeting Hindus, by insulting their Gods, showing that their culture is outdated, and framing Hindus as villains in the movie, when the world knows what is the religion of terrorism. Hindus are quite tolerant in nature, and this is the reason that they are easily targeted. Hindus have a tendency to forgive and forget generally, on the other hand, Muslims can chop someone's head and be proud of it, as seen in Kanhaiyaa Laal Case and many others. Hindus are getting killed and raped in Muslim-populated nations like Pakistan and Bangladesh. But Bollywood stars never commented when Kanhaiyaa Lal's head was chopped and the psycho Muslim Killers made a video of it, but the whole Bollywood gang will come out if there happens a crime against any Muslim. They also have a soft corner for Pakistan, even though Pakistan has occupied our Kashmir and their intention is always to destroy India.

These are some basic reasons, why Indians are boycotting Bollywood films, not all films, but actors who have a history of targeting Hindus. Recent example of one such film is "Shamshera", where Sanjay Dutt is a Villain but puts a Hindu priest like Tilak on his forehead.

When people start to Boycott Trends on social media against a film, they act like beggars, telling Indian people, how much hard work they have done, so many people get employment due to them, though the reality is after a film's success, not a single penny is given to the labors, and secondly, yes they work really very very hard to put Hindus in a bad light and praise Islam whenever they get a chance.

We all know what is the relationship between terrorism and Pakistan, but we fail to understand what is the relationship between Bollywood and Pakistan. Currently, Pakistan is facing some flood issues and some Pakistanis are expecting Bollywoodians to help them financially.

Then there is also the issue of Nepotism, I am not against it completely, but people like Arjun Kapoor (a flop nepo actor), made a statement against Boycott Trends, that they have made a mistake by being silent about it and people are misusing their decency. I sometimes feel that Arjun Kapoor is living in a different world. In the MILF world.

Some Bollywood Actors are very political and quite vocal about it. they have used their platform to put their views against BJP which is a right-wing party in India. One such actress is Swara Bhaskar, as a result, she had to do some B-Grade Films now and lost all the advertisements, because people stopped watching her content.

This is the whole gang, they do drugs, molest the newcomers, spit venom against Hindus, and have a soft corner for Jihadis, all these things are resulting in the Boycott of Indian Films of such actors and the actors who are supporting them like Vijay Deverakonda, whose film Liger was also Boycotted.

[suriliebrothers]

more oc stuff in the tags :)

[lizardrosen]

okay okay, since i’ve been transing everyone’s gender lately i’m gonna talk about another concept i’ve had a while ago but never really did anything with:

trans man claudius and (closeted) trans woman hamlet

@all-mimsy helped a lot with this one! I’m tagging @butchhamlet and @suits-of-woe too, because this feels like the kind of headcanon you’d both like

claudius transitioned when he was fifteen or sixteen and his brother was eighteen. because he was never expected to be in line for the throne he hadn’t been trained in any of the duties or responsibilities of a king, and their parents were like “okay, i guess we have this son now” and just continued to ignore him

king hamlet is a massive transphobe and badmouths claudius to hamlet all the time. “With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts—. O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power So to seduce” is because he must have used witchcraft since no woman would willingly choose him over a ~real~ man. hey king hamlet, fuck off maybe.

the courtiers are pretty evenly split between whispering malicious rumors about claudius, and Politely Ignoring the fact that they’ve been calling him a princess up to now. some of the new guards and courtiers have no idea he’s not cis. and it should feel like acceptance, but somehow it doesn’t.

I actually really love interpretations where hamlet has a lot more in common with claudius than with king hamlet, because they’re both more solitary and thoughtful compared to his hawkishness. so yep, he’s the fun uncle and it comes as a real shock to realize that this person hamlet trusted and loved could be capable of killing someone.

so because they’re friends, hamlet talks to claudius about gender stuff, and eventually realizes that she’s not the perfect son her father wants. (she already wasn’t going to be, but it’s a relief to know that there’s a reason for it) claudius is a really good ally and mentor and he loves his niece!

between fear of how her father will react if she comes out, and her desperate need for his approval, hamlet stays deep in the closet. her name is still hamlet and she doesn’t plan to change it because it’s a part of her.

horatio definitely knows she’s a woman. laertes sort of halfway guesses it, but thinks she’s just gay. ophelia is patient and figures hamlet will tell her whatever’s going on in her own time.

“not so, my lord, I am too much in the sun/son” becomes a fun line in this au! so does “frailty, thy name is woman” and “oh, that this too too sullied flesh would melt” and "god hath given you one face, and you make yourself another."

but the MAIN bit of dialogue that really sparked my interest in this concept is this:

HAMLET I see a cherub that sees them. But, come; for England! Farewell, dear mother. KING CLAUDIUS Thy loving father, Hamlet. HAMLET My mother: father and mother is man and wife; man and wife is one flesh; and so, my mother. Come, for England!

she just says that first bit without thinking, delighted by the wordplay of it, because she’s following her own train of thought that’s full of worms and beggars, and then claudius just stiffens and sounds really sad and disappointed. it takes a moment to realize why, so she says “my mother” and then it hits her, and the whole rest of her lines are a babbling justification -- she can hate him for killing her father, but she can’t hate him for his gender or for helping her figure out her own. after “and so” she trails off and looks at him with her wide pleading eyes, and winces at the look on his face and just weakly finishes “... my mother”

[starksinthenorth]

Musings on ASOIAF Ladies and Ambition

I’ve noticed people use “ambition” to describe Sansa and Daenerys as if it’s a bad word or an insult (often called “power hungry”). Yet in the text of the series, neither of them are shown to be ambitious people as a core characteristic. I blame the series for a lot of this, because it failed to explore the internal dialogue of Sansa, Arya, and even Cersei, who ends up more humanized than either of them by the end (because of the maybe baby).

Cersei Lannister is the classic ambitious ASOIAF lady, whose point-of-view is introduced in perhaps the most iconic sentence of any introductory chapter:

She dreamt she sat the Iron Throne, high above them all.

I can’t think of a sentence in ASOIAF that better introduces the internal thoughts and view of its leading character.

In comparison, Sansa’s first sentence is receiving news about her father’s whereabouts, Daenerys is shown her new dress to meet Drogo, and Arya has crooked stitches again. Arya’s works to frame her relationship with Sansa and her internal struggle to fit the feminine Westerosi mold, while Sansa and Daenerys are setting up plot points. None of these interactions signal ambition, bad or good. Daenerys did not arrange her wedding, Sansa is just told the information by her Septa, and while Arya is aspiring to have straight stitches, that’s hardly an ambitious goal for a girl of nine.

Fans rarely, if ever, deny Cersei’s cruel, cold, often stupid ambition. In fact, it’s one of the reason people seem to love her. She’s internally open about what she wants - power - and when she wants it - now:

All of them are burning now, she told herself, savoring the thought. They are dead and burning, every one, with all their plots and schemes and betrayals. It is my day now. It is my castle and my kingdom.

- AFFC, Cersei III

The rule was hers; Cersei did not mean to give it up until Tommen came of age. I waited, so can he. I waited half my life. She had played the dutiful daughter, the blushing bride, the pliant wife. She had suffered . . . She had contended with Jon Arryn, Ned Stark, and her vile, treacherous, murderous dwarf brother, all the while promising herself that one day it would be her turn. If Margaery Tyrell thinks to cheat me of my hour in the sun, she had bloody well think again.

- AFFC, Cersei V

Cersei is the definition of a power hungry lady, scheming and cheating at every point. Yes, Sansa learned from her, but most of Sansa’s internalized lessons of Cersei’s were to do the exact opposite. 

"The night's first traitors," the queen [Cersei] said, "but not the last, I fear. . . . Another lesson you should learn, if you hope to sit beside my son. . . . The only way to keep your people loyal is to make certain they fear you more than they do the enemy."

"I will remember, Your Grace," said Sansa, though she had always heard that love was a surer route to the people's loyalty than fear. If I am ever a queen, I'll make them love me.

- ACOK, Sansa VI

Cersei isn’t the only POV character who views herself outside of conventional Westerosi standards and aspires to something beyond being a wife and mother. Arya Stark has ambition writ clear on the page, though it is not so cold or denying other people their rights or chances. Compared to Cersei, Arya doesn’t want everything, crown and throne and kingdom and all. She just wants something, and even that is denied to highborn women in Westeros. Even when she asks her father about her future, a man who wants to do right by his children and loves them, Eddard Stark is blinded by Westerosi patriarchy:

Arya cocked her head to one side. "Can I be a king's councillor and build castles and become the High Septon?"

"You," Ned said, kissing her lightly on the brow, "will marry a king and rule his castle, and your sons will be knights and princes and lords and, yes, perhaps even a High Septon."

- AGOT, Eddard V

With Arya in this, I see some parallels to Elaena Targaryen, who was so good at math and management she served as the secret Master of Coin while her husband carried the title. Elaena was “more willful than Rhaena, but not as beautiful as either of her sisters,” yet is also said to have been “more beautiful at age seventy than at age seventeen,” growing into herself like Arya is expected to. They both even cut their hair, Arya to hide her gender and Elaena to hide her beauty, both instances to gain freedom from captivity in the Red Keep.

Despite both these examples of ambition - Cersei’s all-encompassing, without care for how it affects the realm, and Arya’s attempt to find a place in the world outside the Westerosi model - it still becomes an insult when people speak of Daenerys and Sansa.

Critics claim Sansa is ambitious, and negatively so, because she “wants to be queen.” But this criticism misses a vital point of Sansa’s character. Unlike Cersei, she does not want to be queen because of the power and political influence, but because she will be living a song. In the start, Sansa’s got her head in the clouds, not to the dirty world of politics. Her very first chapter lays out this motivation incredibly clearly:

All she wanted was for things to be nice and pretty, the way they were in the songs.

When she thinks of Joffrey and being in love with him, it’s because he’s “handsome and gallant as any prince in the songs” (AGOT, Sansa II), 

Alternatively, it has been said that Sansa is ambitious because of her claim to Winterfell. But compare how Sansa thinks of her claim to how Big Walder Frey does. Despite being far down the inheritance line, he is certain he will someday possess the Twins. He’s likely willing to kill his family to become Lord of the Crossing, and already has killed Little Walder.

In comparison, Sansa isn’t the one who realizes her claim as heir to Winterfell, even after her two younger brothers are believed dead. It’s Dontos who mentions it, and after she still thinks that Robb will have sons to inherit.

But she had not forgotten his words, either. The heir to Winterfell, she would think as she lay abed at night. It's your claim they mean to wed. Sansa had grown up with three brothers. She never thought to have a claim, but with Bran and Rickon dead . . . It doesn't matter, there's still Robb, he's a man grown now, and soon he'll wed and have a son. Anyway, Willas Tyrell will have Highgarden, what would he want with Winterfell?

- ASOS, Sansa II

Sansa’s not ready to kill Bran and Rickon if they show up. Her arc is about taking off the rose-tinted glasses and seeing reality, but also working to make reality like a song. For example, her idea of the Tournament of the Winged Knights for Sweetrobin. It’s a song come to life, all by her making. TBD how the ending goes, of course, but it shows that trajectory.

And finally, Daenerys.

Daenerys is not driven by some lifelong desire to win and dominate. She’s forced into it, a la Brienne’s “no chance and no choice.” If Daenerys were raised in a stable environment, I have a feeling she’d be much more like Sansa: dreamy, hopeful, sweet and studious. Happy.

But instead, her eyes are open.

When she’s introduced as a character, she shows an awareness for the schemes and politics of the world. She knows her brother is called the Beggar King in the Free Cities, and is doubtful of the smallfolk’s secret toasts to Viserys III that Illyrio Mopatis claims happen across Westeros.

Like Sansa and Cersei, there’s evidence of her goals, hopes, and wishes in the very first chapter:

"I don't want to be his queen," she heard herself say in a small, thin voice. "Please, please, Viserys, I don't want to, I want to go home."

. . .

Dany had only meant their rooms in Illyrio's estate, no true home surely, though all they had, but her brother did not want to hear that. There was no home there for him. Even the big house with the red door had not been home for him.

Daenerys remembers home as the house with the red door in Braavos. It’s her brother whose only home and stability was the Red Keep, not her.

Throughout her journey of power to take back the Seven Kingdoms, she is doubtful at every turn and most of her wishes are for happiness, for peace, for stability.

Dany had no wish to reduce King's Landing to a blackened ruin full of unquiet ghosts. She had supped enough on tears. I want to make my kingdom beautiful, to fill it with fat men and pretty maids and laughing children. I want my people to smile when they see me ride by, the way Viserys said they smiled for my father.

- ACOK, Daenerys II

A queen I am, but my throne is made of burned bones, and it rests on quicksand. Without dragons, how could she hope to hold Meereen, much less win back Westeros?

- ADWD, Daenerys II

Even later, Daenerys is determined to bring peace to the lands she currently rules. She does plan to return to the Seven Kingdoms, but it’s not driven by pure ambition. And this is, notably, from a conversation when Prince Quentyn Nymeros Martell asks her to come back and claim them now, saying she has allies for that conquest. And still she turns him down, with promises that it will only happen eventually:

"Daenerys said. ". . . .One day I shall return to Westeros to claim my father's throne, and look to Dorne for help. But on this day the Yunkai'i have my city ringed in steel. I may die before I see my Seven Kingdoms. Hizdahr may die. Westeros may be swallowed by the waves."

- ADWD, Daenerys VII

And yet in both Sansa and Daenerys, these visions and hopes for the futures they might have are considered unbridled ambition, although they turn more on happiness and peace for themselves and their people, rather than the type of ambition Cersei has, which is clearly her own power and being heralded above everyone.

Daenerys’ thoughts in her sixth chapter of ADWD have the same energy as Sansa’s “I will make them love me.”:

"A queen must know the sufferings of her people."

. . .

A queen must listen to her people, Dany reminded herself. 

Daenerys has figured out how to make her people love her, by wearing her “floppy ears” and appealing to the masses, listening to them, et cetera. She’s also a bit ahead of Sansa in the realm of ruling, to be sure.

But how are these similar thoughts ambition in either of them? It’s an attempt to empathize and connect, not to throw away and disregard and rule by force and domination. Both these ladies are more nuanced, and the fandom does them a disservice by painting them as ambitious or power-hungry when at the end for both of them, it’s a desire to have a happy, stable, loving life.

[contemplativepancakes]

Following the Thread Transcript

AKA all the "canon" there is of Aiden. Google doc to save for easy reference is here. Providing this is entirely selfish of me, please use it and write some lambden <3

EXT. SUPERVISOR’S BUILDING

GERALT approaches a GUARD standing outside of a door.

GUARD: Don’t like folk wandering around here.

GERALT: Oh yeah? Well, got a beast you need someone to get rid of? I’m here about the notice.

GUARD: Ah, supervisor Lund posted it. Yeah, a beast haunts the outskirts, murdering folk. Got ‘em scared to leave their homes after dark.

GERALT: I’d like to talk to this supervisor.

GUARD: Too bad he don’t receive petitioners.

GERALT: So what’s he do, exactly?

GUARD: Delivery relief on behalf of the city council—flour and groats for the paupers. Meaning, he don’t do it personally. He’s got men for that. He, himself, he, uh. (GESTURES BROADLY)

GERALT: Supervises.

GUARD: Exactly!

GERALT: I aim to hunt down this monster.

GUARD: Best hurry, then. Some other bloke’s already after it.

GERALT: Who took the contract?

GUARD: Didn’t see the man. Was just told some brave fool’d turned up.

GERALT: When’d you find the last victim?

GUARD: Just last night. Hubert, a beggar, but a decent man. I’d let him sleep in the shed from time to time—that one, on the right. Eustace hasn’t come for the corpse yet. It’s lying in there, where I found it.

GERALT: Any eyewitnesses to these attacks?

GUARD: No, just the bodies. Beast appears only at night, chooses isolated victims.

GERALT: Thanks. So long.

Geralt goes to the shed and examines it, finding a puddle of blood that’s not human, and Hubert’s body, which is drained of blood. There’s ekimmara tracks in the shed that Geralt follows along the river’s edge, until they disappear at a dock. Geralt swims across the river and finds the tracks again, leading him to another building. Geralt notes that’s there’s rat corpses outside that have been drained of blood.

INT. DARK HOUSE

There’s the sounds of combat upstairs, blade clashing, an ekimmara screeching, and a whoosh from aard. Geralt rushes up the stairs to see LAMBERT fighting the monster. They kill it together.

GERALT: Greetings, Lambert.

LAMBERT: Damn, it’s good to see you, Wolf.

GERALT: Decide to do some hunting in Novigrad? Far as I remember, you never liked this city.

LAMBERT: Still don’t. Thing is, got a certain matter to take care of.

GERALT: What have you been up to? Any luck on the path?

LAMBERT: A lot, in fact. Quite the takings in Lan Exeter. Was asked to hunt down a giant, who turned out to be a forest troll and some bandits.

GERALT: Bandits?

LAMBERT: (SHRUGS) Came as a package with the troll.

GERALT: The matter you mentioned, anything I can help with?

LAMBERT: Hmm. Maybe. But we’ll talk about that later. Got our reward to collect. I’m kinda in a hurry. Let’s say you’ve earned half, what the hell.

EXT. SUPERVISOR’S BUILDING

Geralt and Lambert approach the guard from earlier.

GUARD: So?

LAMBERT: What do you think? We did what we had to do. Time to pay up.

GUARD: Wait here, I’ll go see the supervisor, get your reward.

LAMBERT: Do that ourselves. No reason you should leave your post.

Geralt gives Lambert a sideways glance.

GUARD: Hmm, can’t argue with that logic. Go on in.

EXT SUPERVISOR’S BUILDING, COURTYARD

Lambert and Geralt approach SUPERVISOR LUND in an outdoor space. There’s three guards milling around.

LAMBERT: We dealt with the monster at the docks. Here for our reward.

LUND: Witchers? Since when do you travel in pairs?

LAMBERT: Lots of dangers for a lone witcher. Bandits, for example.

LUND: I’d advise you to change your tone.

LAMBERT: Where’s Jad Karadin? Talk!

GERALT: Who?

LAMBERT: Trust me, Geralt. This is important. There’s something I gotta know.

LUND: I do not know any Karadin. Take your coin for the before and bugger off before I lose my temper!

LAMBERT: (YELLING) Where’s Jad Karadin? Asking you for the last time!

LUND: Guards, to the dungeon with them!

Lund runs out of the courtyard, and Lambert chases after him, leaving Geralt to fight the three guards.

INT. SUPERVISOR’S BUILDING

Geralt walks inside to find Lund cowering from Lambert.

LAMBERT: This guy’s more trouble than the ekimmara.

LUND: Karadin’s disappeared. I swear! The others, too! I only know of Vienne.

LAMBERT: What about Vienne?

LUND: She drinks at the Seven Cats. There day and night.

LAMBERT: See? You can be helpful.

Lambert unsheathes his sword and stabs Lund in the gut while Geralt watches. Lund collapses to the floor. Lambert turns to look at Geralt in challenge.

GERALT: That was murder. Was that really necessary?

LAMBERT: Yes.

Geralt shakes his head.

LAMBERT (cont.): More guardsmen’ll show soon. Let’s go. Meet me at the Seven Cats. Tell you everything there.

GERALT: The tavern Vienne frequents?

LAMBERT: Yeah. See you later.

EXT. SEVEN CATS INN

Lambert is leaning against a rock when Geralt approaches him.

GERALT: All right. High time you explained some things. Why’d you kill Lund? What’s this all about?

LAMBERT: Want the short version or the long one?

GERALT: Lemme hear the whole thing.

LAMBERT: Had a friend. Aiden was his name.

GERALT: You? Had a friend?

LAMBERT: Oh, hi-fuckin’-larious. I met him soon after I'd accepted a contract to lift the curse from the Ogre of Ellander. Aiden had been hired to kill it. He was a witcher from the school of the cat.

GERALT: Far as I remember, the ogre was killed in the end.

LAMBERT: Yeah, after it gutted my employer, we really didn’t have a choice. I cut a deal with Aiden. We joined forces, split the reward for killing the ogre between us. After that, we worked together a lot. Hands down the best man I’d ever met. I mean, I like you, you know that. Still, no comparison.

GERALT: What happened to him?

LAMBERT: Some time ago, Aiden took on a contract to lift a curse off a duke’s daughter. It was a political mess from the start. Then there was the hatred for the school of the cat to deal with.

GERALT: They worked hard to deserve that hate. Basically hired assassins.

LAMBERT: (SNAPS) Aiden wasn’t like that. (PAUSES, LOOKS AWAY) Anyway, some of the duke’s courtier’s had designs. Weren’t all keen on the curse being lifted from the duke’s first born. So, a band of trained assassins ambushed Aiden, murdered him. Our dear supervisor was one of them.

GERALT: And Jad Karadin?

LAMBERT: The assassins’ leader. And the one to deal the mortal blow.

GERALT: Sorry about your friend.

LAMBERT: Don’t need your sympathy, just your help. (PUSHES OFF ROCK HE WAS LEANING ON TO STRAIGHTEN) We have to talk to Vienne. Must’ve had enough to drink by now. Let’s go.

INT. SEVEN CATS INN

Geralt and Lambert approach VIENNE, a lithe elvish woman wearing a deep cut purple blouse with her dark hair in a braid. She has a drinking glass in front of her where she sits alone at a table.

GERALT: Vienne?

VIENNE: What do you want?

LAMBERT: We wanna see Jad Karadin.

VIENNE: (LAUGHS) Now why would I help you?

GERALT: It’s really important to my friend here.

VIENNE: And what will I get out of it?

LAMBERT: Pay for your beer, for starters. Then we’ll see how valuable your information is.

VIENNE: (CONSIDERS, TAKES DRINK) I was part of Karadin’s band, but… When was that? I don’t know where to find him; I’ve fallen out with the lot.

Geralt sits at her table.

VIENNE (cont.): Besides, he’s no longer chummy with his old mates. Word around town is he’s changed.

Lambert sits down, also, now.

GERALT: Karadin’s changed? What do you mean?

VIENNE: He’s dropped all his old connections, stopped taking on petty killings. He’s hidden himself away in some hole. Must be planning something big.

GERALT: Who else was in Karadin’s band?

VIENNE: Aside from me? Selyse, Hammond, and Lund. But they’ve scattered all over the world. Selyse went to Tretogor, Hammond to Skellige, and Lund—

LAMBERT: Lund’s dead.

VIENNE: (CACKLES) Finally met his match. Well, you’ve only Hammond or Selyse to talk to, then.

GERALT: What about you? What’s your story?

VIENNE: Scoia'tael was decimated, so I joined Karadin. They never treated me as an equal. No. I could hit a sparrow from a hundred paces, but I was never good enough for Karadin. He always preferred that cunt Selyse…

LAMBERT: You have a hand in the murder of the witcher Aiden?

VIENNE: Perhaps. I don’t remember.

GERALT: We need information about Hammond.

VIENNE: Karadin’s right hand man, once. When the band broke up, he went back to Faroe whence he had come. He’s a pirate, now. Even the jarls treat him with respect.

GERALT: This Selyse, where can we find her?

VIENNE: She’s done well for herself. Runs a brothel in tretogor, the kind rich men frequent. Whores suck information out of them, then she sells it.

LAMBERT: Name of this brothel?

VIENNE: The Black Lily. Selyse always did have horrible taste.

GERALT: (TO LAMBERT) Satisfied?

Geralt and Lambert both stand.

LAMBERT: She doesn’t know anything. We need to talk to Hammond and Selyse.

VIENNE: Don’t go looking for Karadin. If he senses you nipping at his heels, he’ll kill you without batting an eye.

LAMBERT: We’ll see. As for you…

OPTION ONE

GERALT: No, Lambert.

LAMBERT: Right, better to leave her like this.

VIENNE: What about my coin?

Geralt and Lambert exit the inn.

VIENNE (cont.): Arseholes.

OPTION TWO

GERALT: Do whatever you think is right, Lambert. Not here to preach morals.

VIENNE: (LAUGHS) “Do what you think is right?” Only one thing worse than cold blooded murder—hypocrisy. Informers, racists, snitches!

VAREN: Vienne, bloody hell. What is it?

VIENNE: They’ve come for me, Varen! I told you someone would, sooner or later!

VAREN: (IN ELDER) Don’t be afraid.

GERALT: Shit.

A fight breaks out in the inn and ends with Vienne dead.

EXT. SEVEN CATS INN—NIGHT

LAMBERT: You’ve gotta help me, Geralt. Best thing will be to split up. You sail to Skellige, try to squeeze something out of Hammond. I’ll go to Tretegor and try to get something out of Selyse.

GERALT: Lambert, let’s talk about this.

LAMBERT: Let’s not. This is one of those situations, serious situations, where you don’t ask unnecessary questions and just help your friend.

GERALT: Where’ll we meet once I’m back?

LAMBERT: At the Nowhere Inn.

GERALT: All right, I’m off. Good luck.

They both nod to each other, and the scene fades to black as Lambert walks away.

EXT. PIRATE’S SETTLEMENT, SKELLIGE

Geralt approaches two men standing guard outside of the settlement he’d been pointed to in order to find Hammond.

GUARD: Whaddya want?

GERALT: I’m looking for Hammond.

GUARD: What for?

GERALT: Business.

GUARD: He prays at the chapel on the hill this time of day. If it’s slaves you’re looking to buy, you’ll have to wait ‘til he’s done.

GERALT: He’s praying? Wouldn’t have thought him a god fearing man.

GUARD: Hmm. Yet it’s not something that would surprise any man who knows him.

GUARD TWO: Another snoop! You know the drill!

A fight breaks out with all of the pirates. After Geralt defeats them, he travels across the island.

EXT. HAMMOND’S SHRINE

Geralt walks into the shrine, and it’s an outdoor space with wide, curved beams driven into the ground that create a circle. Hammond is in the middle of the area in front of a pile of weaponry and shields. Hammond is shirtless and wearing a green tartan kilt with a wide leather belt. His hair is in a ponytail, and a leather strap encircles his left bicep. There’s a brown arm guard on the same arm, and there’s a gold band wrapped around his right bicep. There’s a large war hammer strapped to his back.

HAMMOND: Gods of the sea, I’ve never begrudge ye no gifts. Grant me another victory, so I can make an offering of me loot. (STANDS AND NOTICES GERALT) Fuck, what now?

GERALT: Heard you were in Karadin’s band.

HAMMOND: Fuckin’ say what you want. C’mon, spit it out, you arse lickin’ bastard!

GERALT: I’m looking for Jad Karadin.

HAMMOND: And just who the hell’re you?

GERALT: A friend of a friend. I’m looking for Karasin, thought maybe we could make some sort of deal.

HAMMOND: What, our business rubbing some Novigrad pricks the wrong way? Ploughin’ guild! (TO HIS GUARDS) Come on, what are you waiting for? Kill the fucker!

A fight breaks out and Geralt kills Hammond and his three guards. After, Geralt searches Hammond’s body and retrieves a letter on elegant stationary.

Hammond,

Thought I made it clear during our last face to face talk. I don’t want to keep in touch and I especially don’t want to do any business with you. I’ve no doubt the enterprise you proposed would be profitable. Nevertheless, to speak colloquially, count me out.

There are plenty of other potential buyers in Novigrad: goldsmiths, jewelers, and merchants dealing in luxury goods, for starters.

I don’t want to get involved.

Whatever you decide, I will wish you well in it. Treat this letter as our final farewell.

Karadin

INT. NOWHERE INN

Geralt approaches Lambert. Lambert is sitting at a table scattered with gwent cards and with a tankard in front of him.

LAMBERT: What the hell took you?

GERALT: Pretty likely Karadin lives in Novigrad. And he never severed ties with Hammond. They’re actually in business together.

LAMBERT: Mm. Learned something, too. He trades in, uh, live goods on the sly. Owns a ship called the Pearl of the Coast. Runs between here and Skellige. Changed his name, too, to Roland Treugger, who officially is a respected Novigrad trader and philanthropist. Has a residence in Gildorf.

GERALT: Anything on Selyse?

LAMBERT: Hmm. Well, didn’t have you there to stand up for her.

GERALT: All right, let’s pay Karadin a visit.

EXT. KARADIN’S HOUSE

Lambert and Geralt stand in a stone alleyway, looking at several guards.

LAMBERT: Think I know how to get in. Got a plan.

GERALT: If your plan doesn’t include dealing with an escort of guardsmen, best revise it.

The guards approach Lambert and Geralt.

GERALT (cont.): Calm, now. Let them start it.

GUARD: You’re expected. Come in.

Lambert and Geralt share a glance, and the scene fades to black.

EXT. KARADIN’S BACKYARD

There’s a child in a blue smock, who points at Lambert and Geralt and runs to Karadin. Karadin has yellow slitted eyes, dressed nicely, and there’s a sword at his hip.

KARADIN: Make yourselves at home.

GERALT: (TO LAMBERT) He’s a witcher.

KARADIN: Very true. Let me introduce my wife, Laetitia, and my two little tots. (GESTURES TO A WOMAN AND TWO CHILDREN SITTING IN THE GRASS) You know who I am, and I’ve heard of you. You’ve been asking questions about me. That always draws my attention.

GERALT: What school’d you come out of?

KARADIN: That of the cat. So few of us left.

Lambert sneers.

GERALT: Witchers can’t have children.

KARADIN: But they can have wards. Or take in a woman along with her children, embrace them as their own.

GERALT: I could understand a witcher becoming a hired assassin, but a merchant?

KARADIN: Why ever not? Not one among us doesn’t dream of changing our life. I simply did not stop at dreaming. They say no witcher has ever died in his bed. I aim to be the first.

LAMBERT: Remains to be seen.

GERALT: My friend needs to talk to you.

KARADIN: (TO GUARDS) Lads, take the children and Laetitia and leave us. Our guests wish to speak with me.

His family leaves.

KARADIN (cont.): I’m all ears.

LAMBERT: Talk to him, Geralt. If I do, first word he says to me, I’ll lose it and throttle the fucker.

GERALT: Nice place you got.

KARADIN: As it turned out, I’ve a flair for enterprise. Now I’ve coin enough to provide my family with the finer things in life.

LAMBERT: With some left over for philanthropy.

KARADIN: Miss Marabella’s institute does not scorn small donations. Neither does the city's Widow and Orphan Relief Fund, amongst others.

GERALT: Your wife know who you were?

KARADIN: We are thoroughly honest with each other, harbor no secrets. She prays for me each day. You know what? I think it’s working.

LAMBERT: Fucking hell.

GERALT: Relax, Lambert.

KARADIN: I confessed all just before we pledged to marry one another. Began a new life that day, with a clean slate.

GERALT: Remember Aiden? A witcher. Murdered in Ellander. Guessing the killers were paid well.

KARADIN: I remember him as I remember all the others—with the deepest regret. Yet Aiden was different, in a way. Contrary to rumor, we did not set out to kill him. We were forcced to, when he attacked us.

GERALT: What’s your version of this story?

KARADIN: Aiden had accepted a contract to lift a curse from the duke’s daughter. He took the coin, bungled the job, then left once the girl passed on.

LAMBERT: You lie!

KARADIN: We were not to kill him. We were debt collectors. He’d spent the coin already, so we demanded his swords. When he refused, tempers flared. Vienne, positioned as sniper, lost her nerve, hit Aiden square in the eye.

Lambert looks down. Geralt glances over at him.

KARADIN (cont.): Later, she devised her own version of the story. To silence her guilt, I expect.

GERALT: I’ve heard enough.

KARADIN: What now?

OPTION ONE

GERALT: You’ve changed. You have.

KARADIN: Forgiveness. It’s my sole aim now.

LAMBERT: You’re buying this bullshit? Bastard’s lying his ass off!

OPTION TWO

GERALT: You know what, Karadin? Your remorse—it’s feigned. Completely dishonest. You put on a good show, but I just don’t believe you.

LAMBERT: Don’t even know why we bothered with this chat. We came here to kill you.

OPTION THREE

GERALT: Maybe you’ve changed, maybe not. To me and Lambert, it doesn’t matter.

LAMBERT: You killed Aiden. Fuck your new life. I don’t believe in giving second chances.

OPTION ONE

GERALT: Do what you want, Lambert. Your friend, your vengeance.

LAMBERT: Been waiting a long time for this.

KARADIN: (UNSHEATHES SWORD) And I don’t aim to die.

A fight breaks out, ending in Karadin dead.

LAMBERT: Thanks for your help, Geralt.

GERALT: You’re welcome.

LAMBERT: Wanna talk about it?

GERALT: No.

LAMBERT: See you later. Some day.

GERALT: So long, Lambert.

OPTION TWO

GERALT: Leave him. Let’s go.

LAMBERT: What? Are you fuckin’ nuts?

GERALT: Lambert, this is one of those situations where you have to realize you’re pissed as hell, rein it in, and trust your cool headed friend. Let’s go.

LAMBERT: For fuck’s sake, Geralt. Don’t know that I’ll be able to forgive you.

GERALT: I said let’s go. You can always come back.

Lambert storms off.

KARADIN: Thank you.

Geralt sighs and walks away.

EXT. KARADIN’S HOUSE

LAMBERT: Explain yourself.

GERALT: Don’t intend to. Just felt Karadin didn’t deserve to be murdered in cold blood. If you feel otherwise, you can always go back. Without me.

LAMBERT: I feel like beating the shit out of you. See you later. Some day.

GERALT: So long, Lambert.

[bookstantrash]

A/N: Here we are folks. The chapter y’all have been waiting for. I’m hoping it reaches your expectations because I was dying to write it.

Huge shoutout for the gc — specially @thewayshedreamed for her mind blowing theory, although I tried to make it less angst lol — for all their hype and ideais for this chapter 💜

In which she makes a friend, Part Eleven

Cassian woke up late. He was sure of that because of two factors:

One, the birds were chirping louder than when he usually woke up, the sun high in the sky given the sunlight entering the bedroom through the curtains.

And two, Nesta was fast asleep in his arms, her vanilla and lavender scent all around him.

He took his time watching her, as he did not know when he would have another opportunity.

Nesta looked younger like that, her face relaxed for once, mouth partially open as she slowly breathed. Their legs were intertwined, his free arm somehow having ended up in her hair, holding her close, as if during the night he had gotten afraid she would disappear.

Cassian had nightmares of that. Of waking up and finding her gone, snatched out of her bed once again in the middle of the night by his enemies and killed. He would wake up panting and reaching for a dagger he kept in his bedside table, his blood roaring at him to kill whoever had touched her, to find and protect Nesta.

It usually ended up with him pacing in front of her room for a few minutes, her steady heart beat easing his worries after a while. He would then return to his room and go over some reports from Rhysand and Azriel or look over some camp matters until the sun was rising.

Last night had to be the best night of sleep Cassian had had in the last two years. Maybe in all five hundred years of his life.

He signed, willing his thoughts to not go down that path. To not wonder too deeply about the reason why Nesta Archeron affected him like she did, since the first time he saw her at her father’s house when she was still human.

Willed them to not think how she seemed to fit so perfectly against his body, as if they had been made for each other.

To stop thinking how her bare skin would feel against his, her soft lips kissing his own.

To stop thinking of her running her hands over his body, pulling his hair.

The sounds she would make when he kissed her, properly this time, without death hovering above them.

If she was a screamer or a beggar or a talker and how it did not matter anyway because he would make sure to pleasure her until she was screaming his name, until she was begging him for more, until she was saying how good he felt and how none of those other males back in Velaris had given her a speck of what he was giving her.

How he would take care of her afterwards, how he would kiss her lazily and sweetly, and how he would not let her go for a long long time, satisfied to just stay holding her.

“That is nothing but a distant and impossible dream” he murmured, daring to gently run his fingers in her silky hair “I have to be grateful for what I have and do not desire for more.”

Cassian felt Nesta stirring in his arms, mentally cursing himself for waking her.

“Javy ju” she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleep, slowly blinking at him.

“Javy ju, anahí” he answered a little breathless, being hit straight in his stomach by the fact that she had remembered the Illyrian greeting.

Nesta was about to say something when Cassian felt her whole body froze, blue eyes widening as she looked at how close they were.

And that is when he felt it. His morning wood.

Cauldron that was embarrassing. If Nesta did not think lowly of him before — he knew all those times she had called him a pervert or a bastard had been nothing but empty words —  now she surely did.

He quickly withdrew his wings, Nesta squinting at him momentarily due to the sudden brightness.

But before Cassian could get up and put more distance between themselves, hoping to save some face, Nesta placed a hand firmly on his shoulder, keeping him still.

And she smirked.

“Wound a bit tight these days? she said, throwing his words from yesterday back at him.

“You can not blame my body for reacting at you” he tried to sound as if he was teasing her,  but his words came out softer and truer than he would like “Have you looked at yourself?”

“You mean my too thin and bony body?” she snorted, dismissing his words “You must be really desperate.”

If Nesta had said that to him months ago, he would have been inclined to agree with her statement —  not that that would have stopped him from thinking her beautiful. His feelings towards the strong minded female were not purely physical attraction. It went beyond that.

“You can not be blind to not see how your body has changed since you started training and eating more regularly” he said “I still wish you would eat more, but you can not deny that you have gained muscles and some weight back”

“Are you calling me fat?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

Cassian laughed at that. Nesta had a sense of humour that sometimes reminded him of Azriel.

“You fill your leathers much more now” he answered, the hand in her hair sliding along her arms “You have gained muscles here”

His hand travelled down her front slowly, making sure to avoid her breasts, although all he wanted was to finally know how they would feel beneath his touch.

“And here” he gently squeezed her waist.

“Cassian…”

“And here too” he added, fingers dancing along her leg where her nightgown had exposed some skin.

Nesta took a sharp intake of breath, her pupils dilatating

He was walking on thin ice, he knew that. His words at Nesta were nothing but desire and longing veiled by teasing he knew Nesta believed in.

Cassian had no one but himself to blame for that.

“So I am desirable because of my body?” her voice had a bitter tone, and Cassian quickly corrected her.

“You are desirable because of this, ” he touched her temple, moving then to lay his hand over her heart “and this”

“Lying will not get you anywhere bat” she turned her face and made to get up.

“I’m beyond lies right now, Nesta” he said, pulling her flush against him, gently grabbing her chin and tilting her face up.

Her gray-blue eyes seemed incredibly bright, looking straight at Cassian, as if she could see his very soul.

He did not hide from it. He met her stare head on, not daring even to blink.

“Why do you run from me?” his voice so low it was almost a whisper “Why do you hide yourself?”

“Why do you run from me?” and her voice carried so much hurt, so much feeling and rawness that Cassian knew she had let one of her iron walls fall “Why did you drop my hand that time? Why look for me only when I’m alone?”

Her words pierced his heart. He had not know. Had not known how much she was hurting, what she may have thought his actions appeared to be.

“Why do you bother so much when not even my own family cares for me?” she snapped, and for a split second Cassian thought Nesta was going to cry.

“Your sisters love you, Nesta” he said softly.

“I believe you made it abundantly clear last solstice I was unlovable”

“Your sisters love you. I can’t for the life of me understand why, but they do.”

He flinched, cursing himself for his past actions.

“I have never regretted something as much as the moment those words left my mouth. I was rude and insensible,” he brushed her cheek with his thumb tentatively “ and none of those things I said were true. I hope someday you will forgive me.”

“I said some rude things to you too,” she whispered “Would you be able to forgive me?”

“I never took them to heart” Cassian gave her a watery smile “I knew it was a way for you to push me away and that you did not mean them sweetheart”

A lonely silent tear fell from Nesta. Cassian gathered her closer, and she buried her face in his neck.

“Hush now xe nhia. Aan arevanque”

They stayed like that, with Cassian running his hands through her hair and talking with her in Illyrian. She hadn't cried more than that single tear, but she trembled slightly sometimes.

“Nes...I have been meaning to tell you something”

“What is it?” she asked, looking up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“You don’t have to answer me or say anything at all, I just—”

“Cassian, out with it” she said, anxiousness lacing her every word.

“Since I met you I—”

But whatever he was going to say was interrupted by the sound of dishes falling and a curse coming from the kitchen.

“Kaelin,” Nesta said sighing “I better go see what he is doing when he should have been resting”

Cassian agreed with her, and a part of him was glad they had been interrupted. He still had much to make up to Nesta, his feelings would have to wait a little longer.

“What were you going to tell me?” 

“It was nothing” he gave her a reassuring smile “Go see Kaelin. I can tell you another time”

Nesta hesitated, but his kind eyes were enough to make her trust his words.

“Thank you” and with a quick kiss on his cheek she was gone.

Cassian was so stunned he had to pinch himself to make sure he had not fallen asleep again, staying in bed for a few minutes more until he could put himself together.

~•~

The clock’s ticking was the only sound in the room, neither Cassian or Kaelin talking.

Nesta had left after breakfast, saying Esmée had lifted her resting order to help the healer collect a rare flower that only blossomed every sixty years.

After reassuring her that he knew which medicine to give Kaelin in case the kid felt pain and that he would make sure he rested, Nesta left them promising to return as soon as possible.

Kaelin was a bit awkward around Cassian at first, probably embarrassed about crying in front of him. It bothered the General to the point that he lent his copy of ‘King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table’ to the young illyrian.

“This book is very precious to me,” he had told Kaelin “as it was the first I managed to finish once I learnt how to read”

Kaelin had taken the old book with the utmost care, and Cassian almost laughed when he saw how slowly the boy was turning the pages, almost afraid of damaging it. And with his attention fully on the book, Cassian could work on Kaelin’s solstice present without fearing it would be seen.

Because Cassian was working on expanding the old storage room near the birch.

He was designing a room for Kaelin to sleep. If the kid was to live with him and Nesta definitely — or at least as long as he wanted to —  Cassian could not let him keep on sleeping on the sofa.

He had been working in secret to refashion the space. Had worked until dawn on it two nights ago when he had rescued Kaelin from the bullies. Maybe two weeks more only and it would be ready on time for the Winter Solstice.

Thinking about the birch made Cassian realise how sore he was, both from the training, working on the bedroom and the time spent hunched over the piece of paper drawing the room. A trip to the birch would help relax, which gave him an idea.

“Hey kid,” he called, catching Kaelin’s attention “I don’t know if Nesta told you, but we have a birch here. How about we go? It would help relax you”

It was a tradition for male Illyrians to go birching — be it with family or friends —  as a form of bonding.

And Cassian did want to get closer to Kaelin. He saw a lot of himself in the orphaned kid.

The young one, however, did not seem to find the ideia appealing at all.

“I— it would be an honour sir, I mean, Cassian, but I—” Kaelin blushed deeply while trying to politely refuse Cassian’s invitation, stammering and tripping over his words.

“You know what? Why don’t I go first and you get there after I’m done?” Cassian shrugged, seeing Kaelin sigh in relief.

It was a step too far it seemed. Maybe Kaelin was uncomfortable because they were not closer — although the objective was for them to get closer — maybe he is shy or maybe embarrassed because he is not as muscled as the other boys his age. Cauldron knew how much extra practice Cassian himself had done when he was younger, wanting to get as strong and muscled as Enalius, their warrior god.

He would have to work a little harder if he wanted to make Kaelin feel as comfortable with him as he was with Nesta. They were both males, so it should be easier for them to bond despite meeting the kid after Nesta.

“You can bond in other ways” he muttered to himself as he got dressed in his room, drying his hair.

It was then that he realised he had forgotten to leave Kaelin a second towel, in case his got too damp because of the heat in the birch.

Grabbing a towel he goes to the birch and opens it.

“Kaelin, I forgot to give—”  he stops himself when he sees that Kaelin is naked, head thrown back against the wall, completely relaxed for once.

Yet all that easiness goes away once he hears Cassian’s voice.

“I’m sorry. Here’s your towel” stammering, he quickly leaves the white towel on the bench and closes the door, internally beating himself for forgetting to knock.

Kaelin had wanted to go alone and Cassian invaded the kid’s personal space and now he would hate him and—

Cassian stops in front of his room, thoughts finally catching up with his brain.

He remembers the ugly bruises along Kaelin’s ribs, their purple and green colour already fading to yellow and has to reboot his memory for a second.

He’s almost sure he saw boobs.

But boys don’t have boobs. He knows that.

And he could not possibly be confused because of the heat or the smoke inside the birch—

But he recalls how Nesta is so protective of Kaelin. How she almost seemed afraid for him to meet Azriel, how Kaelin had cried and said nobody could know he had activated his killing powers because they’d look too much into him.

And suddenly it clicked.

Kaelin was a girl.

~•~

Cassian was very close to having a mental breakdown.

Kaelin was a girl. A girl. As in boobs, periods and weird hormones.

And he had seen him — her, naked.

Cauldron, he was knee deep in shit.

After walking in on Kaelin, Cassian had been unable to leave his room. He was sure she would want some time alone to process what had happened and that he now knew her secret.

Because Kaelin was a girl.

“Gods, where is Nesta when I need her?” he grumbled, running his hands on his hair.

Nesta knew it all along and was helping Kaelin hide it. It was a noble thing to do, but also so reckless. If the wrong person discovered it they could be killed. He would not put it past the Illyrians to do that.

He had to talk with Kaelin. He had left her alone for long enough. If he did not talk with her now he would have to wait for when Nesta arrived, and that was a talk Kaelin did not have to be present.

It was a little past the time for lunch, so he had the perfect excuse to knock in Nesta’s bedroom and ask Kaelin to come out.

Except when he did that nobody answered.

Kaelin was not there.

“Fucking hell, not again” Cassian swore, quickly going out and getting airborne.

Kaelin was still hurt so she would not be able to fly. He had a chance to catch up with her given that she was walking.

And to his luck he found her not far from his cabin.

But she was not alone.

“Are you sure you are a boy? Look how skinny you are”

“I am a late bloomer” she answered an older Illryan, making him and the other one beside him laugh.

“Late bloomer? That is girl talk, ain’t I right Bjerke?” 

“Take off your shirt, boy. Show us those muscles” the male, Bjerke, said.

“Thank you, but no. I have to go” Kaelin tried to go past them, but was held back by Bjerke.

“Here Falk, hold this thing while I help our friend”

As Cassian got closer, he realised Kaelin was holding his book, which was teared from her grasp by Bjerke, who started trying to undress her.

Blood roaring in his ears, Cassian dropped in front of them, his siphons flashing.

“Let. Go. Of. Him” he gritted out, and the males froze.

In front of them stood the General Commander of the Illyrian armies.

The Lord of Bloodshed.

And he was not happy.

“We were just talking to him” Falk said, his voice hinting at his fear.

“He said no” Cassian growled, seeing Kaelin’s clothes messed up.

All Cassian could see was Kaelin's scared face and remember when Nesta had hinted about being attacked when she was human.

He still wanted to know who that piece of shit was.

Would take his sweet time making him suffer for what he did.

“I think it’s best that you go” he snapped, and Bjerke let go of Kaelin, taking a step back “If I hear you were bothering someone else again — be it male or female — you will want to have never been born. Are we understood?”

Both males assured Cassian it would not happen again, and were airborne within minutes.

Kaelin straightened her clothes, grabbing the fallen book and dusting off its cover.

She still refused to look at Cassian.

“What am I going to do with you kid?” he sighed “Nesta will kill me once she discovers I let you out of my sight.”

That caught the young girl’s attention. She finally glanced his way, searching Cassian’s face for something, anything that would give away that he was angry with her or that he was going to expose her secret to someone.

She found nothing.

“I… I am sorry I lost lunch” she mumbled.

“Good thing I have not eaten yet” giving her a reassuring smile, he ruffled her short hair “Let’s go home and eat before Nesta arrives and kill us both.”

“Yeah. Let’s go home” Kaelin answered, and it seemed a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

•

Tags: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @arinbelle @caotica-e-quieta @vidalinav @swankii-art-teacher @ireallyshouldsleeprn @duskandstarlight @greerlunna @thegoddessaltenia @dayanna-hatter @verypaleninja @awesomelena555 @courtofjurdan @valkyriewarriors @moe8 @illyrianwitchling13 @silvernesta @bri-loves-sunflowers @queenestarcheron @imwritingthesewords @vasudharaghavan @rainbowcheetah512 @darkshadowqueensrule @letstakethedawn @starlightorstarfire @city-of-fae @thalia-2-rose @nestaarcher0n @rowaelinismyotp @julemmaes @dontgetsalmonella @alinaleksanders @lysandra-tiara9 @inardour @hikari274 @fatimafares123 @angelina-figjam

[thebadboyfanclub]

There’s Nothing Wrong With Submission (Geralt x Reader)

Again, this wasn’t requested and I ain’t even gon’ lie to you, I got this idea while catching my reflection in the mirror when I was laying on my bed with a bra and underwear so.... get ready for this.

P.S I don’t want to hear it about how this magical creature isn’t factual, neither is being a witcher so shush and enjoy this

(Y/n) was one of the lucky ones that chose to become something... different. Her “mortal” life felt like it was ages ago and she was a maid in a wealthy household and she fell for the son that only wanted to get her to bed on demand, it only resorted into her having a baby out of wedlock... shame. Her parents sold the baby and kicked her out of the household, she only got to hold it for a few minutes before it was stripped away from her.

Another enchantress found her in the forest, crying and shaking from the cold. She took her to her shelter and told her about a new life, a life of... pleasure and power.

(Y/n) was liberated, she had never seen women take such pride and strength in the sacred act of sex, they were the leaders in bed and they used their bodies for power and brought submission to a different level. The sex enchantresses of Lillith, they could survive like everyone else but they absorbed power from the mans lust for her, not to be mistaken for a succubus, a succubus survived from sex, an enchantress gave immense out of body experience to the man that provided with magical power, the trick was that the man had to have lust for the enchantress and that’s where they “fed” from.

She decided to move from her hometown and with the money she had from her “sisters” she bought a small cottage nearby the forest she was found. She was almost home when she heard the voices of two men and the prance of a horse, she decided to hide so she can fully observe the men that are approaching

“Hold that thought”

They stopped abruptly and the man with white hair looked around, she scanned them carefully and she liked what she saw. The man with silver hair was made of muscle, tall and proud, she could only see his profile but from what it seemed like his face was sculpted by Lilith herself as a treat to her daughters.

“You can come out now”

He said in a low voice that made it sound more like a grunt, he looked straight at her hiding spot. She rose up and took off her hood, letting her hair loose and frame her face.

“Who are you?”

“I think I am supposed to ask that, you are the nomad here”

She responded. Geralt had encountered many women in his life but never someone like this, her eyes spit fire, her skin seemed perfect and she exudes confidence and femininity out of this world, he was mesmerized by her lips that curved into a devilish smirk as she came closer.

(y/n) saw his eyes, he was a witcher and a handsome one at that, she had not yet discovered the advantage she had on him, she knew what he was yet he was still guessing what she was.

“You’ve traveled a long way... witcher”

“I don’t see how’s that a concern of yours”

“It’s not, although I am willing to give you shelter for the night, even after your dismissive and rather I say rude tone”

Geralt tilted his head to the side, trying to figure her out. There she stood, a woman made to perfection offering him and his friend shelter in the forest, something didn’t seem right.

“Oh what a kind offer, we would be very grateful if you kindly took us in miss...”

“(Y/n), pleasure to meet you”

“Jaskier, pleasure is all mine, believe me”

“Shall we?”

She didn’t wait for an answer, she just turned her back on them and started walking towards her house. This is a gift directed to her, she hadn’t fed off in a while and she was ready to...serve this man.

As they walked in and let them settle, (y/n) changed at her house attire, an almost see through night dress that would always do the trick. As she walked down the stairs to her guests Geralt was speechless at the sight of her.

“Jaskier, follow me please”

They ran up the stairs as (Y/n) led the way to the spare bedroom. Jaskier was more than happy to see a nice clean bed ready to lay down and wake up in 3 days, he thanked her once again and went in the room not even questioning the fact of his friend not having a room. 

(Y/n) walked back down and went over to living room, kneeling in front of the fireplace to light up the fireplace. Geralt took her in, she seemed so calm and sure of herself, she wasn’t a mortal judging by the fact she lived in the woods and wasn’t afraid of him in the slightest.

“Haven’t you seen a woman before witcher?”

“Not your kind I’m afraid”

She scoffed as she got back up and went over to the kitchen, filling it with water and placed it on top of the fire to warm it up.

“Don’t you want to find out?”

She slowly went to him, a few strands of her falling on her face. As he reached with his hand to grab her face, she turned her back on him and walked to the stairs.

“Let me show you to your room, witcher”

“Geralt”

“He has a name, very well then follow me Geralt”

As they went up the stairs Geralt noticed there were only two doors and since she had already escorted Jaskier to his room then... him and (y/n) would share.

“This is my room but I have a spare bed you could sleep on”

He felt his excitement slowly leave his body, he wasn’t ready to admit it but she was a woman he would indulge in for hours on end.

“Great”

“Where you expecting something better?”

“Perhaps, but I guess beggars can’t be choosy”

As he went to his bed, (y/n) made sure to close the door behind them. She could feel everything he felt, she had never fed off from a magical creature before, this was better than she ever expected.

“Then let’s see if I can make the offer more appealing”

As Geralt turned to look at her, he was met with a naked (y/n). Her dress was on the floor and her hair grazed her breasts, her body was a dream for every man, she was a woman made to make men lustful and get them on their knees.

“Does my offer not please you? Witcher”

It took Geralt a few steps to be able to grab her, her legs immediately wrapping around him and his lips found his, it was like he could taste sweet nectar that dripped from her full lips and her scent made him clasp her waist harder. He took her to her bed and before he could comprehend it she had managed to straddle him and take off his clothes, she started kissing his neck when the first moan of hers was heard when he entered her. 

She rode him like a professional, her skin soft and just the sight of her moving her hips and her breasts going up and down could make anyone finish, he rose up to kiss her and wrap his arms around her sweaty body, his muscles against her torso aroused her and when his hand found her hair she smirked as he pulled her head back, she run her tongue over her lips,feeling the power of magic run through her, it was so overwhelming that it forced her body to start shaking and closed her eyes tightly

“What are you doing to me?”

“Magic”

She responded, the pleasure he felt was immaculate, euphoric one might add, he has slept with all types of women but there was never one that could out do him. Geralt was an excellent lover and a force in the bed, so him starting to feel drowsy and weak was something utterly new, he felt so tired he had to lay back down, the room started to spin and some stars started to clog his vision. (Y/n) picked up on the affect she had to him and leaned closer to his ear, her hands went on his chest, smiling down at him as she continued to ride him towards the finish line

“It’s alright Geralt, Just enjoy it”

She reassured him, tossing her hair to one side as she lifted herself back up. (Y/n) started feeling the climax coming closer and closer, her moans louder and her hips going faster, Geralt could feel he was close to the end as well, (y/n) got there first, throwing her head back and her mouth fully open, not caring that jaskier was right across from them and could hear everything. 

As Geralt reached his end it felt like his body was acting on it’s on, fire spreading through him and then nothing, lights out.

-

“Hello witcher”

Geralt fluttered his eyes open. (Y/n) was laying next to him naked, smiling at him as her hand caressed his cheek. He grabbed it and rose up immediately looking straight in her eyes, their face so close one could feel the others breath.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing, you fainted”

“What are you?”

“An enchantress”

That couldn’t be, he had met an enchantress before and there was no mention of making men faint during sex. She scooted closer to him and then straddled him once more, as much as he wanted to throw her off he couldn’t do it, he just laid back down as her hand pushed him gently down and let her lay on top of him.

“Have you ever heard of the sex enchantress of Lilith?”

“No”

“We feed of lust men have for us, of course we don’t need it to survive it just helps with out powers”

“You fed off from me? Impossible”

“Dear Geralt, you might be powerful but you still haven’t figured out one important thing”

She said as she sat up, still sitting on top of him, her hands on his chest caressing his sweaty muscles.

“Really? What is that?”

“Nothing is impossible when a woman is involved”

He flipped her over earning a squeal and a giggle as he guided her leg to hook around his. He should be mad, furious for falling for her tricks, however he felt like there was nothing he could do to her, secretly wanting to please her. He was a fool for being so kind to her, well I guess there is no rules on war and sex. His hand reached her throat giving her a tight squeeze, she couldn’t breath easily he knew that, still there was no sight of discomfort on her face

“Do it, come on do it, kill me. You’ve done it before haven’t you Geralt?”

“I should do it, it will be easy”

She looked straight in his eyes while her mouth hang open at an attempt to breathe. In a blink of an eye Geralt found himself caving in and kissing her lips once again, his hand still on her throat but there was no grip.

He pulled back and moved his hand to her cheek, his thumb going over her swollen red lips, he could feel the blood running through them, they were so tempting that he had to restrain himself from kissing her as hard as he could until he draws blood, he was slowly going mad just by being in her presence. Nothing good would come out of their paths crossing

“You...”

“Just enjoy it Geralt, there’s nothing wrong with submission”

[average-crazy-fangirl]

Welp, thanks to @laughable-illusions, I've gotten into Hero Forge, and have recreated my Big Five™ TES OC's (main game OC's), and now have a reason to rant about my OC's

---------------

Manei, Eternal Champion of the Arena.

Dunmer-Altmer halfling Battlemage.

Forced to play Hero at age 19, traveled through all of Tamriel, never met a single Daedric Prince, is the Tamrielic equivalent of an aethiest, is utterly convinced gods aren't a thing, and contracted Noxiphilic Sanguivoria a few years after marrying Erv.

Had quite a large crush on Ria Silmane, though they both just stayed friends. Manei did not take her death well.

We all love a tall trans bisexual/romantic buff lady, so Manei is here to fill that role.

Didn't ask questions when their husband, who was infertile, somehow got pregnant.

Found a random baby Argonian at the side of the river a few years after she and her husband retired and just said, "Sweetheart, we're parents now."

---------------

Erv Anesac, Hero of Daggerfall, Champion/First Guidance Councillor of all Daedric Princes.

One braincell is in that skull of his, and it's stuck in a Dragon Break.

Dunmer-Breton halfling Illusionist.

Absolute whore of a wereboar.

Uriel Septim had the ingenious idea to send Erv on a very important mission in his home of Daggerfall. Why Erv? He helped Manei locate a piece of the Staff of Chaos, and his family had a history of saving Tamriel*. Also magic dreams.

*his not so long ago family founder was the Vestige/Soulless One, who I may make a separate post about, an Emperor of the previous Empire and the fates decided to bring the family back into the drivers seat of the wheels of fate, and also thought it would be funny if the first person to defeat Mannimarko since his imprisonment, was a descendent of the person who imprisoned him.

Suffered real mental health problems after the Dragon Break.

Out of all Daedric Princes, Sheogorath was the only one who kept showing up for Thundas Tea, even after Erv's retirement, so he was the one Erv decided to go to when he wanted too make a deal.

Short, trans, pan, mentally ill icon of a wereboar.

---------------

Has-Strange-Dreams Anesac, Nerevarine, Skall Friend, Champion of Azura, Killer of Almalexia, inspiration for Lusty Argonian Maid, Older Sibling of the HoK.

Bigender icon of a panromantic.

Trained by xyr mother Manei as a Battlemage.

Was arrested after a certain Countess Alessia Caro decided she didn't like the look of a golden Argonian with red scales on xyr face, and glowing blue eyes, and framed xem for murder, and claimed xe were an escaped slave from Morrowind. How her plan worked, no one knows.

Didn't sleep the entire way too Morrowind and actually got to know Jiub, so he got visited by the Nerevarine while in Vivec City quite frequently.

Adventured Morrowind with Swissel after a letter was sent to them asking for help. Very fast speedwalking was heard from Cyrodiil, straight to Morrowind.

Joined Twin Lamps very quickly, and had to custom make a chain to be attached to the back of Swissel's clothes so they didn't kill racists.

Xe genuinely broke down crying when facing Dagoth Ur, leading to them both sitting on the group weeping, as Swissel killed the moment, pissed on the tombstone, and danced on the grave, as they physically rolled into the room, wearing so many layers of clothes they were just a ball of material.

Also broke down crying when Sotha Sil died, and when they learned who did it.

Went against Hircine during the Bloodmoon Hunt.

Punched Swissel after they found another of Sheogorath's artifacts, and became his Champion after xe became Azura's champion.

Left Tamriel with Dagoth Ur as xyr lover, heading to Akavir after Oddfrid's prophecy gave xym a very strange feeling.

---------------

Swissel Anesac, Hero of Kvatch, Saviour of Bruma, Champion of Cyrodiil, Champion of Sheogorath, Divine Crusader, Listener, Duke of Dementia, God of Madness.

Trained Dunmer Illusionist by their father Erv.

Non-binary, gay, whore.

Was arrested after a beggar payed a guard to arrest them for horrible singing. (the fact it worked impresses Swiss to this day.)

Was born after Erv asked Sheogorath to make so he was no longer infertile, the only real drawback was Erv could be pregnant, Swiss had blue and yellow eyes instead of red, and had a radar for Daedric Artifacts. The other drawback was they were very confuse by the idea of being in your mother's womb.

Could summon scamps and find Daedric Artifacts since the age of four, leading to thier best friend and travelling buddy, Nexus the germophobic Scamp.

Tamed a unicorn. The unicorn then tried to mate with Shadowmere during the Dark Brotherhood questline.

Grinned when Lex was transferred.

Dated Martin Septim, who mantles Akatosh. Then dated Lucien, who died and became an aspect of Sithis.

Was revealed ot be Pelinal Whitestake. They certainly giggled at the fact a dark elf was the reincarnation of the Wild Elf killer.

Laughed at how badly Mannimarco looked compared to their father's old illustrations.

Wasn't actually slowed down when they got the Staff of Everscamp. (the staff was only returned when they became Sheogorath at the end of their adventures)

Traversed the Deadlands by spamming a custom spell that turned them invisible and gave them night vision.

Became Duke of Dementia since the trauma of their adventures got to them a while before Sheogorath ever opened the Door in Niben Bay.

Blames themselves for the fall of the Thieves Guild and Dark Brotherhood

Wrote the Elder Scroll of Dragon, as foreshadowed by Martin Septim's last words before he passed into history as the last Septim.

Sometimes worries what Martin would think of them becoming a Daedric Prince.

Searched downright desperately for a Dragonborn so a repeat of Martin's death didn't occur. (They technically succeeded.)

---------------

Regan Dov, Last Dragonborn, Champion/Second Guidance Councillor of all Daedric Princes, Listener, Oblivion Walker. (With guest appearance, Swiss the Skooma Cat)

Jack of all Trades of a class.

Went to Skyrim to try and start a new life. The plan worked, unfortunately, they planed a quiet life.

Non-binary biromantic demisexual.

Sheogorath was the first Daedric Prince they met, where they were quickly called out for their mental health problems, given the wabbajack, and an arm length butterfly tattoo.

Abused the ability of Dragonborn to slightly lift the Dragon Fires and create a working portal to Oblivion form Mundus.

Outsmarted Herma Mora to save Miraak, ad three more dragonic siblings.

Feels dysphoria thanks to their strange dragon soul.

Like any dragon, purrs like a cat when happy.

Cannot get drunk under normal circumstances. (Daedric wine, here I come.)

Same with all regular drugs. Skooma is a minor stamina potion, moonsugar is a mage's best friend, and only nirnroot has worked to get them high.

Hosts party's for Daedra worshippers, and constantly has to kill Vigilants of Stendarr, either when they crash their parties, or whne they come to arrest them and take away the Daedric Artifacts.

Hides the fact their dragonborn like a dirty secret.

---------------

Hooo boy, one long post, ranting about my OC's.

What more can a hyper-fixated fanfic writer with writers block ask for?

[vaguely-concerned]

X-men Evolution; the great 2021 rewatch liveblog

exactly what it says on the tin, about halfway through the show I had TOO MANY FEELINGS and had to start writing some of them out haha (gets quite gambit & rogue/gambit heavy in the latter half, Because of Who I Am as a Person)

- this is my childhood’s x-men, my formative experience with them, and I’m happy to report that still seems like a good thing. the little eleven year old within me gets to geek out and have a good time with the characters and the surprisingly good animation and writing, adult me gets to CACKLE at regular intervals at the fashion/technology/absolute bonkers hot garbage comic book nonsense they use to justify a storyline every now and then, it’s been a good time 

- I was like ‘ah well it is super dated it probably won’t be quite the same now’ and then rogue’s HAIR did the THING in the opening and ‘it’s all coming back to me now’ started playing in the background... the little baby queer in me swooning across time and space

- such a good beast, both his design and the writing, my heart aches for him all the time. he’s just so passionate! about being a teacher! helping young humans learn the stuff they’ll need in life! the most wonderful nerd man, just let good things happen for him

- I’m going to go ahead and assume that rogue’s ‘crush’ on scott is more of a deeply complex psychological process about desiring normalcy and intimacy and trying to figure out if she’s queer and dealing with her emerging sexuality and latching on to the first and best safely unavailable and nonthreatening older boy to project these issues onto rather than actually being a real thing, because I respect her so much as a person and I cannot bring myself to imagine she’s honestly attracted to a man who has POSTERS OF CARS on his bedroom wall. (I’ll give jean a break just because she seems to have a longer deeper history with him that might counteract some of that libido-kill, and also she’s a jock so lol)

like I am very sorry but can u imagine being a teenage girl with any interest in a boy with model cars in his bedroom when gambit’s swanning around being a much, much, much worse choice on almost every possible level but in a teen girl kryptonite kind of way? inconceivable  

(I drag scott quite a few times in this and it’s not because I don’t love him, it’s just his tragedy to be the most draggable man in the world)

to be fair by the time gambit shows up that whole Situation has mostly played itself out I suppose but still  

- toad’s design is so ineffably brilliant, I can’t quite tell you why but that ugly cute charm has really stuck with me, he’s one of the characters I remembered the best to this day just visually

- poor evan... he truly never had a chance, did he, they just saddled him with the most 90s teen bullshit they could come up with like he’s some kind of ‘what adult writers think teens like’ frankenstein’s monster ;______; it’s not your fault honey

- poor poor POOR storm, she gets one focus episode and they were like ‘we’re going to make an episode so racist -- ‘

I’m still STUNNED at how bad it was, but undeniably I laughed hysterically to the point that my neighbours were probably worried when that dude was earnestly like ‘He [stunningly breathlessly racist caricature of a ‘witch doctor’ guy] has stolen her powers, and he’s going to use them to take over Africa!!!’ fhajsdlfhsakjldfh oh really? tell me more, like how the fUCK this could be on television within my life time fasdlfhsdkjfhsad f  just... fahjksdfh

- it’s a testament to gambit’s appeal as a character that his charm can survive what they’ve done with his hair and beard choices in this one fajskfhs regrettable but true I still fuckn LOVE him and in my highly biased yet Correct opinion he should have been around much more. get you a man who manages to stay hot through sheer Vibes even with a bowl cut

- aw scott/jean is kind of sweet in this show even if it’s taking them forEVER to get there, I like it 

- it’s very nice of rogue to not mention magneto’s romantic daydreams and nostalgic memories about charles xavier after touching his face that one time... or maybe her brain did her a service and repressed it, there’s some stuff you shouldn’t have to know about your father figure   

- the danger room is the very definition of ‘why do we even have that lever’ and I wonder what the fuck prof x does to have enough money to replace everything that gets busted all the time

- I’d say that a lot of the writing holds up surprisingly well! (but some of it is also incredibly inexcusably racist in ways that beggar belief, so... not full marks here) the characters have distinct voices and their arcs are set up and delivered on solidly for the most part, and there’s a lot of love showing through in small moments that are just there to have a funny/interesting thing to say about the characters and how their powers work separately and in combination. listen, sometimes I get so thirsty for like. basic goddamn competency in storytelling, let me have this

- ugggggh why is there captain america in my x-men have I not suffered enough... very very funny when prof x goes ‘sounds like you knew rogers personally’ and logan is like ‘I did ;)’ *all the students ganging up on steve rogers* “did you fuck our teacher, captain america?!”

- fskadfhas WHY are you showing me hot young-ified magneto’s ass fksjahfskj charles is not even here to see it, what a tragic waste erik 

- ...I was sort of kidding before but uh I think logan genuinely did fuck captain america (or at least wishes very much that he did lol)

- wanda can have a little watching the world burn. as a treat for the way every single adult in her life has fucking failed her (’aren’t they treating you well here’ professor x she’s in a straightjacket)  

- poor rogue tho can you imagine finding out after your biggest crush on a girl yet that she’s your fucking MOM in disguise... I would break out in cold sweat every time I thought about a boob forever after

- well seems like they really just had all that homoerotic rivalry stuff between quicksilver and spyke in their first ep only to never do anything with that again ever?? I mean even without the gay undertone that seems like a dynamic you spent most of an episode setting up writers what the hell haha

- dslhfkasjlh GAMBIT THERE HE IS MY BOY IS ON THE SCENE THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! I don’t even care about his awful hair situation or the fact that his eyes are wrong here (coloured contact lenses, maybe, for a watsonian explanation? though he’d probably have to get them made special, considering he needs the sclera and the iris covered up in different ways, I’ve seen some comic panels indicating he has been known to?)

(cute little detail: when he shuffles the cards the first time we see him he ends with removing the top card to show the ace of hearts beneath <3 foreshadowing baBEY he’s a... good-ish boy deep down. hey he tries okay shit gets complicated sometimes lol) 

- cracking UP at gambit perched cheerily on the edge of a crate dispensing cards in the middle of the battle... he’s like ‘eh it’s a livin’ sfsajkhf remy stop working for supervillains just because you had nothing to do on a thursday afternoon and they said they’d pay you

- I’m guessing magneto must have imposed a strict order of silence on these guys or something because I cannot imagine any other reason for him to shut up, especially once he notices rogue is a QTE (or, far more likely, they hadn’t settled on any voice actors for the new characters until next season haha. it is kind of odd that they’re all keeping up near monastic silence, though, even sabertooth lol) 

- WHAT an epic first meeting for us rogue/gambit fans here... first his shadow like there’s fireworks going off behind him lighting him up and then he gives her the fuckn king of hearts and she’s so enchanted by his dumb handsome face she doesn’t even notice it’s about to blow up in her hands and it all happens in heavily meaningful silence afjsdfjashjk no wonder this ship ingrained itself in my hindbrain  

yeah look smug while you can remy she’s gonna have you on your knees one day and you’ll be happy about it lol

- god storm is so COOL, everything just fading out of focus when she really gets going... give her more screen time, show!!

- mystique is every person... this person... that person... that bird... that cat... that wolf... I’m not even sure she’s not also me... are you sure she’s not you? 

- holy fuck I respect the hell out of the decision to just... blow up the entire status quo in a season ender, I only vaguely remembered that (actually in general I appreciate how good the continuity is -- buildings and places that get damaged in battles need to be repaired or rebuilt, it makes the consequences feel more real even when no one gets seriously hurt. where they get the money to restore scott’s car and logan’s motorbikes every time they go cablooie is still an open question tho lol is it credit card fraud, professor? is it telepathically acquired blackmail???) 

- I first watched this when I was nine or so, so it’s a real experience to go from my starry eyed intrigued ‘oh my god... they’re teenagers’ to my horrified adult perspective of ‘oh my god... they’re TEENAGERS D:’

that goes double for the brotherhood boys honestly, I’m here with tears in my eyes like ‘I’m sorry the system has failed you so badly you’re all just a bunch of dumb kids whose caretakers clearly fucked up spectacularly’  

like lance is always waiting for mystique to come back because she’s the closest thing he has to a safe parental figure, may we speak about how crushingly depressing that is 

- rogue is so ready to throw hands at literally any moment and for that I love and treasure her immensely (I think getting to see her be so surly and unreasonable and sometimes difficult and jealous, like any teenager, meant a lot to me as a kid who was not really allowed to be any of these things, this version of the character has stayed with me so deeply. she holds on so fiercely to her right to feel what she feels and be what she is even when it’s ‘ugly’ or unreasonable, which I think plays in really interestingly with how her powers involve getting invaded by other people’s thoughts and memories to the point of overwhelming her own sense of self and the fact that she clearly has a lot of self-loathing and self-consciousness and confusion about her identity as well. I love her so much)  

- oooof this is the ‘the gang experience a microaggression’ episode huh (well more like macroagressions really)

hits a bit different with adult eyes and perspective huh

- hearing jean sound almost like a child when she says ‘that’s so unfair!’ somehow has me like ;______; -- she has to be so adult and responsible all the time, and having her be reduced to the kid she still is and should get to be in front of this awful awful man she could squash like a bug with the flick of a thought... ugh I’m Big Sad (it is funny that jean seemingly plays Every Sport tho djfhaskj)

- MY BOY IS BACK!!! this time with the duster coat and his eyes the right colour, im so happy (too bad about the subdued colour scheme tho; I adore his dumb bright pink getup with my whole heart)

it’s kind of adorable that he takes the time to take the bullies aside and go ‘I know these guys can’t wreck you without getting expelled, but I think you’ll find no law set down by god or man would stop me from doing so whenever I wanted to. so piss off and leave them alone’ lol he’s looking out for them, in his own way

- in this episode: remy lebeau wrangles some kids while looking bored yet mildly amused the whole time. what the fuck does magneto have on you for you to agree to this level of babysitting duty buddy

- fun detail I noticed b/c when I get a fave I hyperfixate: he gave rogue the king of hearts before, but he ‘introduces’ himself to the brotherhood here (lol) with the jack of hearts, probably to symbolize he’s here as someone who works for magneto in this setting and not as his own man? it’s a demotion he’s given himself there, anyway, might be he’s not very pleased about his current position huh 

- I like it when rogue and kitty team up, they’re not very effective together but their squabbling is so cute and non-aggressive 

- pietro is what draco malfoy would be if I ever found malfoy interesting to watch for even one moment, every time quicksilver talks I’m like ‘what wonderfully insufferable thing is going to come out of your mouth this time you little shit :’)’

- a) why are scott and logan shirtless for this scene? I am not complaining on the logan side of things at least but why and b) I laughed so hard I almost fell off my couch when scott asked logan if he’d ever been in love and he was like ‘once. she was the most beautiful bike I ever saw’ falsdfhaskjfhsakjlfhasklhjfd THE BEST VERSION OF WOLVERINE EVER, ACCEPT NO SUBSTITUTES 

- mystique’s sheer dedication to being a petty bitch is kind of inspirational tbh, almost makes me want to go on a completely bonkers and extra crusade of personal revenge myself  

- oooh they’re doing some genuinely cool things with vision/lack of vision in this one (it’s the scott left on his own in the desert without glasses one btw) even visually, dang! I’m so sad this show didn’t get more seasons than it did, honestly, it deserved it

- hell yeah jean wreck her, go get your man with the suspiciously specific clothing damage normally done to female characters 

awww :’) okay yeah they’re super sweet, I love the tiny loving animation details like how he leans his head against her and her stroking his hair away from his eyes

- nooo don’t bully evan leave my t0tally r4dical sk8er boy alone :(

- I love the running joke of people fleeing in blind panic only to reveal that what they’re running from is kitty’s cheerful well meaning little face fskfaskh 

- scott and jean are already peak married after officially being together for one episode and it’s adorable, and they just stone cold threw logan under the bus, rip wolverine we hardly knew ya

fjasdlfasldfhslajdkfhsadkjlfhsdkjalfhsdakfh h jean establishing herself as the alphabitch of this relationship by throwing her man to the wolves right after dsjfhaskjfhaskjhfsakjdhfaskjhfaskdhfskjahfskdajhf get smarter or get volunteered scott 

- ...eyepatch lady is so hot ngl

oh evan went to the place hank used to go to calm down ;________; (honestly he’s kind of won a place in my heart just by being a pretty normal teenage boy haha)

- jesus fucking CHRIST can you imagine being storm having to look her sister in the eye as she tells her ‘I lost your only child, he’s *vague gesture* somewhere in the sewers we think’ this poor woman

- amanda the self admitted monster fucker you are so VALID (I love her and her family’s design so much tho!)

- it’s so cool that even in his human ‘disguise’ kurt’s fingers follow the shape of his actual hand beneath it rather than moving like a five fingered hand, it’s such a lovingly consistent little detail 

- magneto and mystique in a breathless race to see who can be the shittiest parent... tune in next week for yet another parental nadir (also some low-poly gambit appearances in this one, for those at home keeping score (me), he’s in the background looking like someone drew him with their eyes closed fakjldfhasd look how they massacred my boy)

- someone please teach the brotherhood boys about consent huh

- jean ‘soccer mom before her time’ grey and her SUV dfhakjlhds :’)

- im sobbing rogue baby girl i’m so sorryyyyyy, this voice actress is so good, my parental instincts suddenly kicked into overdrive hearing the crack in her voice :( (bb me was right tho rogue centric episodes ARE the best episodes. that tension between ‘do I identify witn this character or am I crushing on her?? both???’ now has the fun new addition of ‘oh god oh no you are a baby I want to shield you with my body from everything trying to hurt you’)

- mystique is like ‘so you see despite you telling me you never wanted to see me again I completely disrespected that and posed as a friend your age, manipulated you by offering you the mirage of direly needed emotional intimacy and belonging and added some sprinkles of homoerotic tension to it just to massively worsen your already existing grievous psychosexual trauma and identity issues... out of love’

god go jump in a black hole you fucking monster 

- there’s some very interesting and quite subtle subtext about the people she’s morphing into and what that says about her mental state/how it shows off some of her emotional baggage with the rest of the team. it’s like she’s switching between people/powers that fit the purpose as if she’s going through cycles of fight/flight (and then bursts of freeze where she’s herself, which is... so sad)

- this whole episode is hurting my heart but rogue at full power is undeniably epic  

 - ‘professor x get your goddamn act together and get this poor girl some fucking tHERAPY’ challenge

- SAFE PAPA LOGAN ;_____;

- EYYYYYY opening straight on My Lad, I cannot stop winning!!!!! 

fasdfhsad disintegrating the window with a smiley face... remy I do love you more than my heart can bear honestly, hello may we speak about the fact that his urge to be a little shit is so deep and strong it survives mind control (that little breathed out ‘hiah!’ as he vaults the fence too dsakfjsd)

hahaha and he does up the coat fhsalfdsaj 

- magneto dismissing other telepaths like ‘puh-lease, your Meaningful Looks have got nothing on my ex-husband’s’ 

- :’) rogue and kurt sibling timeees

- say what you want but this pyro guy’s got job satisfaction in being a creepy arsonist with a weird recurring horse theme (well at least twice but still weird)

- I love how beast is the kindest man to ever walk the earth but also straight up savage, this man drags people so hard their ancestors wince in their graves

- gambit taking the time to complete the guard’s game of solitaire -- this episode is giving me everything I want. u little disgrace mr lebeau

and THEN he takes the spider out in the most hilariously bonkers way my heart is so FULL

(I love that when magneto moves by he looks startled and has to quickly move his head out of the way to avoid getting kicked in the temple too that’s a fun detail)

I’m so INTO how this sequence shows off that his greatest strength isn’t even his powers (which are pretty straightforward, really, he makes go boom, longer time and bigger thing bigger boom) but that he’s clever and creative and always extremely ready to be the most harebrained-bananapants-extra-in-a-deceptively-laidback-sort-of-way person in the room (I actually have some genuinely Deep Thoughts about how his whole character does a really interesting thing with having the straightforwardly destructive nature of his powers yield to what his nature as a person is, and how using the playing cards play (heh) into it, maybe I’ll write it out some day. just the fact that he could use anything, but he deliberately chose something that adds style and playfulness and corny charm to it and that also limits the damage of the explosions compared to if he habitually used something with more mass... I find it fascinating how much he’s made a story around himself with it and how deeply it shows he does have a good heart, at the end of the day, in almost a metatextual way. he doesn’t want to destroy things or people, he’s at worst (and best lol) a thief.)

- I honestly have literally no memory of white nick fury (which seems so weird now isn’t it funny) in this series from when I was a kid, he clearly did not make an impression on me lol

- mr wolverine ‘assigned canadian at birth’ x-men 

- oh man I dig the androgynity of x-23′s outfit (even tho they had to compensate with the long hair, which... kind of doesn’t make sense in-universe but does on a design level because it’s a crucial thing that she’s a female clone of logan so yeah okay fine whatever have your arbitrary gender markers if you must haha)

ooooooh that’s actually really clever, they make her gender gradually more obvious as she unravels through the episode and her outfit changes -- first the mask coming off, and then her jacket opening to show her silhouette more clearly, that’s cool!  

- my god what really sets this show apart is how much it invests in little character and relationship moments, it’s just so fucking GOOD! it gives laura looking in on those moments such depth and weight because it’s new to her but established to us as an audience, this is how you make found family devastating people (storm growing bonsai trees is so charming too haha) 

- ooof this is honestly quite harrowing 

SHE’S SO SMALL COMPARED TO HIM I’M CRYING (at least that part of his genes translated over faslkfsjdh short king, I say this with all the love and support of a fellow short monarch)  

- tabitha seems to just be running around doing precisely whatever the fuck she wants and you know what I support her even if she is an asshole her father left her a bunch of trauma and no fucks left to give 

- still thrilled about professor x explaining the spider key fuckup to magneto after the fact like ‘magnus you dumb bitch this is why we split up’ 

- awww kitty has anime and movie posters on her wall and sleeps with a stuffed toy :’)

-          remy                           rogue

                              🤝

doing completely unnecessary parkour around the brotherhood living room seemingly just for the hell of it... I’m not saying soulmates but fucking soulmates 

- fhsadkjlfhsakjldfhsadjkfhsdajkfh just as gambit’s soul-level need to be a little shit survived his bout of mind control, rogue’s deep and urgent desire to kiss gambit full on the mouth survived hers I can’t breathe

she looks so pleased with herself too GOOD FOR YOU GIRL at least get something out of this other than more trauma 

also not only the fact that he’s smart enough to figure out what’s going on (though he’s only partially right about who’s behind it. I do so enjoy gambit/mystique deep and sincere antipathy as a constant across all universes tho lmao pure wlw/mlm hostility) but also that he keeps fending her off like he’s not trying to hurt her even though she’s in nigh on unstoppable and invulnerable terminator mode... awww 

- gambit having absolutely no patience for wolverine and sabertooth’s bullshit macho-off and consistently being this little biker trio’s one brain cell is adding years to my life with every passing moment

his voice is a little different in these scenes too, a bit softer and less like he’s trying to impress someone, it’s nice

- hank: well I barely recognize any of these (completely made up) ‘ancient egyptian hieroglyphs’ but from what I can make out -- *proceeds to infodump a perfect coherent narrative* fjdhfak  

listen this whole thing is such nonsense on so many levels, I’m just turning my brain off so I won’t have to think about it okay, the compulsion to put ancient aliens in egypt haunts us as a culture 

- I am CACKLING about gambit in the snow after having to listen to these two chucklefucks ooze testosterone at each other for hours

he started out taking it in good cheer and is now reduced to ‘dieu would both of you just jump off this fUCKING mountain please’

- ah. a little oops-a-daisy there, we seem to have unleashed the apocalypse. please stand by (they really don’t pull their punches with the season cliffhangers in this show haha)

- opening the season on gambit’s merrily grinning face is the easiest way to gain my favour. yes good this season may commence 

baby u r my

 ANGELLLLLLLL

(he’s so cute here tho haha I think it shows the design isn’t unsalvagable, just get him better hair and stubble more like logan has and you’ve basically got it) 

love his exasperated eyeroll when the dude gets spooked (by his eyes? or just the general weirdness?) too

he’s just trying to keep this crazy family of evil mutants together and unmurdered by one another until they’ve managed to avert the end of the world, bless him  

- oh NO rogue’s LIP wobbles my hhhhhheart ;____; such a good animation detail to put in

- like... I know kurt is just a sad scared teenager with a lot of shit going on and all the adults are too busy averting the end of the world to help him... but buddy maybe don’t ask your sister to wake her abuser (who forced her to kickstart the end of the world!!!!!) when she feels utterly unsafe even with her statue version around huh

- ...wanda is good and I want only good things for her. and for her dad to be disemboweled for what he did to her both the first time around and when he forced her to forget I mean what 

- magneto throwing an epic satelite-slinging tantrum b/c ‘no I am the biggest sexiest strongest mutant of the pack :(’... erik fucking get over yourself 

- yes boys absolutely go along with a plan suggested by a dude who looks at you like this 

nothing bad can come of this surely asdfkhsa

- lance’s quarter of a braincell always trying to go ‘hey wait, maybe... not do this???’ and it never helps lol

- in this episode: Logan Has A Bad Day 

...some very specific bondage positions he’s held in here, I am sure this episode awakened something in someone once upon a time lol 

- logan shielding x-23 with his body... im fine it’s okay I’m not crying don’t look at me

- afsdhlsdfjasdlk those sure are some ‘scottish’ accents flsadkjhkdsjahfsd

- scott relieved to finally be able to cede the position of ‘charles xavier’s least favourite son’ to someone else fjsaklfhsajd (poor scott it’s not your fault honey)

supremely cowardly to suggest there is an ex-wife involved rather than charles slutting his way around the british isles back in the day but okay

- kurt with a cold is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. it’s okay kid it’ll get better soon

- ...is there an implication here that professor x is naturally blond. because I am losing my entire little mind about it (i mean he at least has to carry the gene, as does this lady?)

ETA: upon doing some research into this I can indeed confirm that charles xavier does seem to be naturally blond, and after this knowledge I will never be the same 

- “listen, dracula” fskdafghasd oh scott you sweet baby angel I love you

- I know jean’s abilities are a bit ‘as strong or as weak as the plot needs right now’ at this point (so you can have the setup for what’s going to happen with them eventually and she’s basically invincible ;____;), and normally I’m cool with it but god I want her to just squash lucas like a little bug

- ewwwww please don’t ever say ‘daddy’ like that again

- ...what the fuck is even going on this episode’s a mess 

like okay the split personality thing could be something but the way it’s done... what just happened lol

- MY BOY EVAN IS BACK! with a real glowup too (...though kind of weird how he suddenly looks like a grown man)

- augh scott’s eyes are so pretty oh my god ;__________________________;

- that episode in the first season where evan makes the ‘this is my new family!!’ video is so sad now (also, again, his poor poor parents) 

- time for: life affirming road trip with gambit (involuntary) faskljdfhaskjd

stunt therapist remy lebeau 

- I mean the way he goes about it is batshit insane and it’s very much secondary to what he’s actually up to but this is the first time rogue’s sounded genuinely hopeful and confident and like herself in like a season <3 

- he is disconcertingly pleased about her nearly throwing him off the train, and may I just say I agree it’s so nice to see rogue with her old fire back 

- the first time I watched this it was of course dubbed into norwegian, so I had no idea either of these characters were southern lol (though to be fair I probably wouldn’t have had much context for what it meant exactly either, I was like ten at the time and not too interested in america) I seem to dimly remember the norwegian voice actor did a little more of a ‘french’-tinged accent for gambit all over tho haha  

- you know what respect where it’s due, pyro dude knows to live his life for the lols and one has to admire his sociopathic dedication to it

interesting that he, too, seems to have fucking hated magneto -- I wonder if the implication here is that he kept all the acolytes in line with blackmail or by keeping something/one hostage? (except sabertooth maybe he’d just have to say ‘you get to fuck shit up and fight wolverine’ and that’d be enough)

- fsdakfhsd he’s so focused on her he doesn’t notice that guy about to hit him fkafhsa 

- fuck everything else except whatever the hell these two’ve got going on

- it’s weirdly cathartic to have rogue have a conversation with someone who was not happily adopted as well, I don’t think kurt like. gets it because his parents loved him unconditionally and still do 

birds of a feather motherfucker  

- fun detail: when the x-men team are on the shore and logan is sniffing around scott is stepping in something and trying to wipe it off his boots in the background

- when he wakes up after passing out from the touch he’s smiling even though she’s standing over him looking like the rage of god outlined by the moon fsajfsa well the last time he passed out like that it was from a kiss, maybe he still has some hopes and dreams in that direction lol (also he recovers from the tumble down the hill first and is checking on her before accidentally brushing her cheek with his hand, which I thought was sweet) 

and it was in that moment he knew he fucked up *passes out*

- ‘I can explain’ can u remy. can u  

- did it ever even occur to you to just. ask her. to help you. I mean I know it didn’t but like rogue’s always one second away from throwing hands with some bully and is stupidly ride or die, if you’d given her the puppydog eyes she would have crumbled immediately (fair enough I guess this entire episode is telling us he’s not from a background where he has much experience with people just helping him without a price haha) 

- his eyes glowing when he’s angry or upset or using a lot of his power is undeniably cool as all hell. I’m just saying it would be Big Sexy if they sort of flickered with light in moments of genuine vulnerability okay  

- his coat... his coat is what makes the Silhouette tm and I could not be happier about it 

- another parent of the year contestant enters the running lol “hey remy have you ever considered that you’re more of a walking bomb factory than a person? that’s certainly how I think of you hahaha c’mon kid let’s go” 

- the running joke of jean luc getting dollar signs in his eyes seeing the other mutant powers and gambit being like ‘nO!!!!’ and pulling him along is amazing haha

- from the way he looks when he touches rogue accidentally and the way he talks to his dad I’m sort of getting the feeling this gambit might actually be a bit younger than he looks?

here too -- idk why but it’s making the ‘wait is he baby???’ alarms go off in my head haha. very early twenties at most. 

- and we’ve officially seen him with all the face cards in the heart suit folks! (yes this is the sort of thing my brain notices no I don’t know either)

- poor logan running his ass off this whole episode in a panic and then she’s like ‘nah he’s fine (in several meanings of the word ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ) please put him down’ hfaskfsda

- rogue without makeup!!! her eyes look so naked like this haha <3

- oooh here’s a really interesting thing that tickles my brain a bit in this specific part of the scene where gambit frees his dad -- the part where he’s leaning against the door frame waiting for jean luc, who’s about to suggest using the opportunity to ruin the rival gang from the inside rather than slipping away while they still can

from his expression here he knows what’s about to happen, what jean luc is about to say, and it’s clearly a ‘man who thought he’d lost all hope loses last additional bit of hope he didn’t even know he still had’ sort of situation. he KNOWS what jean luc is like, and it still hurts that he really, honestly can’t give him even this, can’t appreciate that remy’s already done all this shit for him when he extremely didn’t have to, without immediately (no really, it took him less than ten seconds to go there? jesus) demanding more.  

remy tells him “I’m just here for you” and jean luc does not understand it. remy seems to be sincere in this motivation -- rogue certainly thinks so, having experienced it second hand and found enough at least emotional merit in it to decide he was worth saving even after all his bullshit (lol a bit of a running theme maybe. I think it’s very telling that after she absorbed mystique she was like ‘what the FUCK you’re a fucking monster’, and after she absorbed gambit she went ‘you did the wrong thing for the right reasons’ after she got over the first wave of outrage) 

there’s also what he says as he stands there: “You don’t need me for that”, with the distinct implication that jean luc would only keep him around because he has a use for him and for no other reason -- and then jean luc shamelessly doubles down on that by specifying that it’s not even him he’s got a use for as such, just his powers. that’s some kicking puppies level of deliberately missing the point, it’s almost impressive in how cheerfully mean it is haha

this idea of using people is really important in this episode because remy’s doing basically exactly the same thing to rogue to begin with; it doesn’t really matter to his plan that it’s her that’s with him through this, just what her powers are. (I think it’s  p r e t t y  solidly implied that he does actually like her a lot outside of that too and maybe there is some comfort in having her around for this, but mostly he’s behind a smokescreen of lies through the whole thing sooo I doubt he’s even aware of it, honestly)     

but then it does matter that it’s her when she comes back for him, even after what he did. and unlike jean luc he understands what that means, that she did that for him, and that she didn’t have to. and instead of asking her for more, in return he gives her the thing it’s been established is what he considers the most valuable thing he has; his ‘last card’, the thing he’s credited with keeping him alive many a time, basically. it’s gone from using to mutuality, a tentative place of friendship, and at the end of the day he is a different man than his adoptive father, with a capacity for selflessness and love he lacks. which is of course some of the same stuff going on with rogue and mystique too, except rogue acted from a more fragile and unstable place and did something she regrets, or at least has a LOT of doubts about now, and she found some catharsis in helping someone make a different choice in a similar situation. man there’s some Stuff going on under the surface here haha

(by the way it’s a weirdly... meaningless yet intensely meaningful thing, the gifting of a symbol? of an idea? but he’s putting something very crucial of himself into her hands, is the subtext, and he expects her to understand, which she also does seem to do. at the beginning of the episode he’s proving that he’s seen something true about her -- “You’re such an unhappy girl”, knowing where she comes from, the way she’s mourning her lost confidence and autonomy with her abilities -- and here she’s proving she’s seen something true about him. :’) I wish this show had gone on long enough for this dynamic to progress, it’s really interesting and touching)   

- gambit dragging himself up onto dry land seeing someone approaching (to help?!): :D

gambit seeing that it’s logan and the look on his face: D: 

- rogue using her powers so confidently and fearlessly in this episode tho!!!! 

- *me crying* and then her FAMBILY comes to take her home and he says he’s looking out for her too and kurt still loves her even though they’re having a conflict thing between them and she’s finally able to use her powers without so much fear again and --

- ...did I just watch some baby lesbian love at first sight shit right now???  

- okay last two episodes let’s go

- HELL YEAH STORM (I love that she’s like ‘don’t give me a dumb order like that and I won’t have to disobey it’ too sdfjsaj) her voice has such command I’m usually very much not the ‘step on me’ type butttt

- y’know I feel like apocalypse’s main fault across all versions I’ve seen of him is that he’s like an immortal superpowered god king and he’s not even sexy. like at least make him hot if he’s going to be insufferable in every other way 

- also callout post for apocalypse: one time he made gambit into the Horseman of Death... and didn’t even make him sexy!!! you were handed remy lebeau, supreme bi disaster slut of the x men universe, and you couldn’t even make his brainwashed superpowered evil side hot?? a beautiful stubbled twunk with glowing red eyes and extremely charming :> face practically delivers himself into your hands and you do that to him???? I mean I’m sure apocalypse did some other bad stuff too but that was the worst one

(comics are so dumb y’all) 

- having to watch jean cry is emotional terrorism!! ;___; she has such older sister/mom energy, whenever she gets sad and helpless it hurts 

- oh, OH so PROFESSOR X you’ll make into a hunk and ~*strategically*~ rip his clothes to show off a nipple and a flawless pec in a way that makes me extremely uncomfortable because he’s like The Dad??? apocalypse you are rotten to the core this is unforgivable 

- so wait wanda never actually gets her real memories back. what the FuCk I hope that was a dropped storyline because they ended the show tragically prematurely rather than like. the plan

- why is spyke calling storm ‘storm’ show that’s his auntie o!! >:(

- as a society we need to acknowledge that apocalypse looks like a fucking clown

- ooooh yeah I have been thinking that this show’s greatest visual weakness so far has been not having a visual way to show telepathy/battles of the minds, but this is a pretty cool way to do it! better late than never

- I’m so happy rogue gets to end this herself, since she was forced into starting it against her will, it’s just nice and neat storytelling

- YEAH FUCKING TELL HER KURT AND ROGUE I AM SO PROUD OF YOU and she has the temerity to look pissed off oh my god

the only valid thing mystique has done in her entire life is be in love with destiny. literally everything else she gets up to is a travesty. like I know objectively she’s hot but my loathing for her stops me from even appreciating it. I do enjoy loathing her tho so please don’t change her haha

(a bit odd to have kurt’s attitude to her swing so much but I’m just going to assume he and rogue had a good long conversation after ‘cajun spice’ and that he understands what’s going on better now)

- this last part is such a cruel tease faskdfhsdaj ‘here are all the cool-ass things we had planned. sucks you never get to see it huh’ im devastated 

- magneto without his helmet and playing charmingly with children like charles is going ‘well at least I saved my marriage finally’ fsadkhfjsd (honestly tho I would be super interested in seeing how they’d redeem this magneto because he’s been a real bitch the whole time lol) 

there’s an interesting thing here where magneto looks down at wanda as the last thing he does on screen before this epilogue part (yeah I hope it fucking haunts you forever what you did to her erik you absolute piece of hot garbage) and the last thing charles does is look at jean b/c he knows what’s going to happen to her and it breaks his heart... Dramatic Parallells  

- just the hint of jean as the phoenix has me in full D:D:D: mode tho maybe I wouldn’t have survived it

- gambit in the last groupshot with his arm around rogue ;^) I mean I’m sure they’re headed for some turns and roundabouts along the way but what’s that thing she says as her wedding vow, that she’ll always find her way back? anyway that got me in my heart

- man I really wish this show had been given more seasons, we were barely even getting warmed up here :’(

[popatochisssp]

Potential tw for those who need it: disability, mental issues, possession, referenced violence and death

Horrorswapfell

Same rough premise as my take on Horrorswap but to sum up— the Fallen Human comes through on a Neutral run, leaves the Underground in disrepair, without solid leadership and no souls.

Asgore was left alive, but has no interest in taking the throne. The people are restless and angry and want a leader who will act decisively. He steps in only long enough to appoint General Alphys of the Royal Guard the official successor of his late estranged wife and then back into the Ruins to mourn again.

Alphys, though she doesn’t really want the position nonetheless accepts the burden with grace and becomes the Empress of the Underground.

The plan is the same as in Horrorswap: her right-hand skeleton Sans, the Captain of the Royal Guard, will bring her the Next Human that falls, she’ll subsume their soul to cross the Barrier, and then break it from the other side with whichever humans she can find.

Until then, martial law is declared to ensure utmost efficiency with the Underground’s remaining resources and keep everything from breaking down any further than it already has.

The overall atmosphere amongst monsters is strained and tense, but everything works like clockwork for the few months it takes for another human to appear.

Sans captures them, escorts them to the Capital and to the new Empress, who kills them and absorbs their soul.

And then…

Alphys is unable to subsume it.

The human soul in Alphys’ now especially monstrous body wins control and goes berserk—a startling reminder for the watching Guard and civilians of the shocking and terrifying power of one human soul.

In fact, everyone flees as the beast rampages around the palace, wanting only to get out of the way of the destruction.

Only Sans remains to bait the creature, using his speed to dodge its heavy blows and hopefully tire it enough for his Empress his friend to get control.

Even he can’t dodge forever, of course.

Only one brutal swat of the beast’s whiplike tail lands, but one is all that’s needed. The sound of crunching bone startles Alphys enough inside of the creature to give her a foothold toward control.

She digs in as hard as she can and yells for Sans to run; to let her take it from here.

Normally, Sans might protest, if just for the sake of his own ego…but disoriented, very badly wounded, and in an amount of pain he’s actually never been in before, he obeys the order and blindly shortcuts home.

Papyrus is, expectedly, horrified and alarmed at the state of his brother and does his best to take care of him and keep him from dying because it was close, it was very close.

His task is only made harder by the complete and utter breakdown of…everything outside, more fighting and looting than even the Royal Guard can stem, wherever they are.

(Sans was meant to lead in Alphys’ absence and keep things running normally, but…)

Papyrus goes out of doors into that chaos as sparingly as possible, only to scrounge around for what food and healing items he can find, and he has only the barest awareness of Asgore returning from his self-imposed exile and calming things again by force.

A little late, but better than never.

There’s no word on Alphys for a long time, no certainty that she’s still alive on the otherside, or that if she is, wherever she is, she’s even still in control.

Papyrus doesn’t know and doesn’t care to know—it’s safest to just barricade himself and his critically injured brother in the house and hope that no news is good news.

Sans is, of course, in no state to protest this plan.

Alphys does return, eventually, with all the necessary souls to shatter the Barrier and set monsters free. She’s deeply unsettled by her experience with the soul that took control of her and still feels that she can hear it in her head, fighting her still.

She has no desire to be Empress anymore and begs for Asgore to stay on as the ruler of monsterkind.

Monsterkind, equally unsettled by the power of humanity and the chaos of both the Fallen Human and the brief breakdown of social order, are willing to accept Asgore as their Emperor, and to accept making peace with humans to stop the fighting now.

Asgore leads monsters to the Surface and integration with humans, and even negotiates Alphys’ prison time to asylum care.

Monsterkind can begin to heal.

Horrorswapfell Sans (Pitch)

The Creature’s tail hit him full in the face, shattering the bone between his eye-sockets entirely—though all his other broken bones from the fight have healed by now, he’s still entirely blind thanks to the gaping void in his face

He’s far too stubborn to let this affect him, of course, and has determined to go on as usual, making use of every adaptation that might help him. He carries a cane now and has started learning Braille…he’s thinking of putting in for a seeing-eye dog, too, while he’s at it…

He’s actually dealing with everything very well. While he’d of course prefer to still be able to see, being so badly hurt and put out of commission for so long forced him to rely on others and let them help him, all while he actually couldn’t do anything in return…and he wasn’t…immediately discarded? There were a lot of ways he’d have preferred to realize he has worth beyond what he can do for people, but beggars can’t be choosers, he supposes

Amidst learning how to do things again without a major sense, reestablishing his independence, he stumbles into boxing at a local gym. He never particularly liked the up-close-and-personal physical sort of fighting before, preferring to use bullets, but he actually finds it’s great for blowing off steam and boosting his ego when sight or no, he can still go toe-to-toe with his opponents and win more often than not. He’s gaining a bit of notoriety on the semi-pro circuit and is kicking around the idea of making a living out of it

If only it weren’t for his brother…

But he’s on the Surface, and even if he can’t see it, he can still feel the wind and the sun on his bones and he can still do everything he wants to do up here and he’s...he’s happy! And sorting things out with Papyrus...will come when it comes.

Horrorswapfell Papyrus (Nemo)

Physically, he’s fine excepting a few more scars than before and just a bit more LV than he ever wanted. Emotionally, well… he’s pretty rattled after how basically the stability of his whole worldview kinda crashed and burned back there

Seeing his untouchable big brother so hurt and helpless actually really scared the hell out of him and it made him step up a lot. He learned a lot of self-sufficiency in those couple of weeks Sans was out of commission, most by trial and error, and it gave him a new respect for everything Sans had been doing for both of them

And, unfortunately, a new kind of fear of the dangers out there in the world that can strike at any time: it started gradually on the Surface, but it isn’t long before he has a case of full-blown agoraphobia and hates to leave the house, knowing it’s not rational to just stay indoors forever, but struggling to rein in the fears and anxieties that creep in whenever he steps outside

Or when Sans steps outside, for that matter, especially when he’s going to a fight—he’d really rather Sans stop the whole boxing thing altogether and stay home where it’s safer, but Sans wouldn’t budge and they had a whole blowout about it, where…some things…may have been said, and…

Suffice it to say, things are strained and they’re not…talking very much…

Papyrus is really trying to work on himself, hoping that if he can get through some of his hang-ups, the rest will be easier to push into place. He’d love to travel someday, and he’s experimenting with photography in his downtime, hoping he’ll be able to take pictures of stuff worth being photographed

[rithalie-sideblog]

The daughters of Dracula

When Vlad Dracula first hears the prophecy he laughs and bellows with a voice that shakes his castle to the bone. 

Him? Falling in love with a mortal woman? Inconceivable, unheard of, simply a figment of an old man's scribbling imagination.

But then Vlad Dracula starts to think. And wonder. Because for all of his wealth and goods he managed to accumulate he was born a beggar and a thinker, as such happens when one learns life on the streets.

Prophecies have power.

So Vlad Dracula devises a plan. To make sure, he won't fall for the novelty that is a mortal woman, much less give her a son to fulfil the damned prophecy.

The first step he takes, he scours the village for his prey.

Mortal women, of all height and weight, from the plump daughter of the baker to the muscled heiress of the mercenary group. He kidnaps them from ungrateful families and bargains for them and soon his castle is filled with women's voices, their whimpers and terrified sobs. 

He avoids the young ones, as pretty as they might appear because Vlad Dracula might be a monster, but even he had rules by which to live his immortal life.

He never harms the women, despite their hostility and suspicion towards him. He leaves them be for the longest of times and watches as they slowly make the castle their home.

The women clean the spider webs, dust the old forgotten rooms and chambers. 

As they slowly grow more bold, they begin to take down the most horrid paintings from the walls, wash their clothes in the well in the middle of the cursed garden, stringing lines of laundry between the sculptures of demons and gargoyles.

Vlad watches it all happen from his tower, curiosity taking over him as he waits. Observes. Studies.

Finally, one woman seeks him out.

A pretty one, with her hair the color of honey, tangled way past her knees with her unable to cut it without any sharp object.

She demands a knife with a trembling voice and desperation laced with fear.

"Give it back soon." Says Dracula in his velvet voice as he gives her a dagger.

The woman never takes her eyes off of him as she backs away from the room, weapon held tightly in her hand.

By the end of the next week, most women have their hair cut, or braided into something new.

The honey-colored woman comes back with the dagger, placing it delicately in Vlad's outstretched hand. 

And she stays to talk.

A few years pass before most of the women warm up to Dracula, even if for him, it hadn't been much more than a blink.

They smile at him when he passes the corridors of his once gloomy castle, some wave to him, kneeled over the freshly planted potatoes in the gardens that once hosted the most exquisite of Louvre's hedges.

They come to him for his judgement, they trust him with their pleas and for his part, Dracula does his best to judge fairly. Years after Dracula's decision, the first woman wishes for more. He does not chase her away, even if his dark heart remains unchanged, curiosity driving him dangerously close to the edge of destiny's sword.

Vlad wonders if he should kill the woman before she can give birth to his descendant. If she were to bear a boy, the prophecy would come true and everything Dracula had done would have been for naught.

"It's a girl." announces one of the women as she comes out of the birth chamber, hands covered in blood up to her elbows. Vlad tries to not stare at them much as the relief washes over him.

A daughter, no son to slay him, no vengeance to come forth from his mother's mistreatment.

His plan is saved.

There are two more births that follow, and with each child being born a female Vlad grows more confident. Convinced he managed to beat the prophecy, he once again disappears into his tower.

He meets his daughters sometimes.

Pretty creatures, not a flaw to be seen on them. With hair the color of honey, mahogany and obsidian, they look at him with eyes of crimson and sunlight and moonlight, their sharpened ears uncovered proudly in the safety of his home, his vast galleries and libraries.

Dracula goes down deep into the guts of his castle and brings up the jewelry, old dress materials and sewing kits for them to use. He does not care what they do with the gift, but something like pride flashes in his eyes as he catches a glimpse of them covered in gold and silk.

As they grow, they get more and more bold, coming to his tower and asking questions about the world and life outside their castle.

Their Inquiries rarely go unanswered.

Dracula begins to let the mortal women go, the youngest of them past the age of her prime now. Some of them leave, but some of them stay, unwilling to uproot their lives again and comfortable with what they learned. Dracula begins to travel, living his years free of the burden of the prophecy, confident that his fate has finally been changed.

So when an angry woman shows up at the door of the castle, a three-year-old with crimson eyes' hand, gripped in hers, it comes as quite a surprise.

Dracula kills the woman, for she was not one of his, one of them, despite the claim she made upon Dracula's paternal role in the child's life. 

The daughters that greeted her warmly once she arrived had not known such violence before. They lick their lips and wrangle their hands at the sight of blood before them, and when Dracula sees that he gives them the woman's body to feast upon.

The boy is spared, if only for the foolishness of one of the women who rushes him outside when the carnage begins. 

He runs and when Vlad finds out about it, he flies after him in hot pursuit, but the boy is nowhere to be found. The prophecy protects him and fate is on his side and no matter where Dracula looks he cannot find him.

No harm befalls the woman who helped him, but upon hearing about the prophecy she weeps, for she did not know what calamity she brought upon her host. She leaves the castle in shame.

Three daughters of the Dracula grow hungry for blood, their beauty shining in its ethereal light brighter than before. Vlad feeds them and begins to teach them. Slowly but steadily he allows them entrance upon his dark and shrunken heart. They become his confidants as Dracula admits his defeat against the prophecy, preparing for the final act of the play. 

If his daughters showed promise even unattended, they shine with brilliance under his attention. Soon the castle is alive with the sound of magic, verbal disputes and turned pages.

When the child, now a man fully grown, comes back, bearing the Alucard title, Dracula steps forward to battle his destiny. He makes his daughters swear not to join him, and stay far away from the fight, for he had made arrangements for his knowledge to live on in them were he to fail.

Alucard is strong, but not as strong as his father.

He is quick, but not as quick as Dracula.

He is vengeful and drunk on the prophecy's promises, but not quite as desperate as Vlad is.

And yet, what finally brings The almighty Dracula to his knees is the fact that Alucard isn't quite as honorable as him.

When the edge of Alucard's blade rests against the honey-haired daughter of the Dracula he stops fighting.

After many years of undead existence, his daughters became his legacy, and he refuses to lose even a slight part of it.

Dracula's pause gives Alucard a chance to defeat him, and as he does that, all three daughters cry out in anguish.

Dracula's body caves in itself and turns to ash, and as Alucard lifts his fist in triumph, ready to claim the castle and all of its wealth as he was promised, he is met not with the radiant smiles of the saved woman but with weeping and sneers. The woman may have hardly loved the monster who kidnapped them, but his presence meant safety. It meant freedom to pursue what they desired, no mortal husband or any kin present to dictate their lives.

Three daughters of the Dracula weep the loudest, and through their tears they growl and hiss, blind in their rage. They chase Alucard out of the castle, the man unable to defend himself against their fury.

The brown and dark-haired ones stay on the stairs of the castle, but the honey-colored one chases Alucard to the edge of the woods, red droplets of blood flying from the spot where he threatened her. She almost gets him, her claws marking the tree, behind which he ducked with three deep lines.

And when the dust finally settles and the castle stops trembling with the sobs of the grieving women, they all come together to plan.

The rumors grow, ones of an imposing castle deep in the woods, that one day disappeared from all maps. 

Some say it's still there, just concealed with the magic of a really powerful witch, no matter what the church claims about having burned them all.

Others think it crumbled to the ground, unable to stand any more without its master there to keep it together. 

The Vatican claims to have destroyed it in the name of God, the village men grow bold enough to boast about the treasure they supposedly stole from there.

Alucard's tale grows, even as the man shrinks into itself, once his prophecy has been fulfilled and his sole reason to exist finally slayed. 

Very few remember Vlad Dracula's daughters, but there are traces of them left in the history.

Hushed female voices telling each other stories over the fire. Tales of the place where husbands' heavy hand won't ever reach. 

Rumors of libraries and workshops where all the knowledge is at your fingertips, your fate finally yours to choose.

Whispered clues to find the farthest tree on the south of the main road, its bark marked with three fine lines in the shape of the hand, and to march three hundred steps north of it.

And finally, three names to call forth when you reach the clearing, given to their daughters by the desperate mothers who wish for a better life to happen upon them.

Do you know the names? 

Did you ever have to call for them, deep in the night, three hundred steps away from the tree where a daughter almost avenged her father's death?

Don't you know the heart of greed and entitled desires? Have you ever heard of self-fulfilled prophecies? Didn't you see the hate in the eyes of the people?

Don't let them know.

Whisper the daughters names in the night, gain their strength. 

And don't let the world know where we are.

[kat-tamin]

you’re a cowboy like me

For Women of SVU Week 2021: Day Six: There was only one bed

Ship: Kat x Amanda

Warnings: Smut, including oral and fingering

Word Count: 2115

“Rollins, I just got word that our suspect got picked up in Westhampton's. We need to go pick him up.”

Amanda looked up at Kat. “When?”

“ASAP. ADA wants him arraigned tomorrow.” Kat gave the older detective a sympathetic look. “Sorry, Rollins. Hamptons PD says we can get him first thing tomorrow morning.”

“That means leaving tonight.” Amanda rubbed her forehead in frustration. “I’ll see if I can get someone to watch the girls.”

“Sorry, Rollins.” Kat smiled, trying to come up with something comforting. “On the bright side, mini vacay? I can make us a road trip mix.”

“Fine.” Amanda grabbed her keys, heading for the elevator. “Go pack a bag. I’ll meet you back here.” She paused, turned back to Kat. “None of that mumble rap crap, though. That’s not music.”

___

An almost 3 hour drive for two people who didn’t know each other that well was practically torture. The majority of the drive was spent in awkward silence. The only time they spoke was to discuss the landscape, or the case they were currently working on, Kat’s 90s music mix filling in the gaps of conversation. 

This wasn’t like Kat, or Amanda. They were both quite talkative women, but there seemed to be an underlying awkwardness between them when they weren’t at work. Neither was quite sure why. They just didn’t seem to have a lot in common. Kat was young, while Amanda was a mom. That alone made their lives very different.

Chasing Waterfalls by TLC came up on the mix, and Amanda automatically turned the volume up.

“You like this?” Kat raised her voice to be heard over the music.

Amanda nodded, grinning. “Reminds me of when I was young.”

“Me too! I remember them playing it at my elementary school graduation!”

Amanda turned to her wide eyed. “Your what?”

“Yeah, it was fun- what?” Kat glanced at Amanda’s disgusted face.

“Kat, this played at my senior prom.”

Kat snorted, and quickly covered her open mouth with her hand. “Sorry, Rollins.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Amanda muttered. “Respect your elders, Tamin.”

“Yes, ma'am.” 

Kat’s tone of voice made Amanda’s breath catch in her throat. She had to quickly right the car so it wouldn’t swerve into the other lane.

Finally, the two SVU members made it to the motel that the department had booked for the night. It was just outside town, close to the station. Kat would have preferred to be closer to the ocean, but beggars couldn’t be choosers when it came to a free hotel room. 

Kat noticed Amanda was already walking into the office, and hurried after her, catching the door just before it closed.

“You must be the NYPD!” The cheerful, older woman working greeted them. “One bed, right?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Kat leaned on the check in desk, blinking in surprise. 

“That’s what was booked.” The woman peered at her screen. “A queen sized room.”

“But there’s two of us,” Amanda reminded her, her voice tight.

“I’m sorry, Detective. I’m afraid I’m all booked up otherwise.” The worker scrunched up her nose. “I think I may have a cot lying around.”

Kat and Amanda glanced at each other, their eyes wide. A motel cot was just asking for a messed up back for a week.

“We can share.” Amanda turned back to the counter. “Right, Kat?”

“Right.” Kat suddenly felt very thirsty, her throat dry. “No big deal.”

After dumping their bags in their room, neither looking at the single bed, Amanda suggested they find a pub to eat at. “I could use a drink.”

Luckily, there was a bar down the street that served dinner. It was dark and dirty, but Kat didn’t mind. The smell of grease made her stomach growl, and her mouth water. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, forgoing lunch to finish up paperwork.

“Drink?” Amanda didn’t wait for Kat’s answer, flagging down the bartender.

“I’ll have a whiskey, neat.” Her eyes went to the blackboard menu. “And a burger with fries.”

The bartender nodded, then looked at Kat. “You?”

“Scotch and soda, please. I’ll have the burger too.”

He left to put in their order, and Kat’s eyes wandered over the tight space, with it’s neon signs and bright decor. “This reminds me of this lesbian bar in Brooklyn.”

“Ginger’s.” 

Kat turned to Amanda, surprised. “You know it?”

Amanda just shrugged. “Of course.”

Their drinks were put down on the bartop, interrupting Kat’s follow up questions before they could start.

The combination of liquor and the exhaustion from the drive loosened their tongues. Over their greasy meals, Amanda and Kat found that they had more in common then they first thought.

Besides the obvious work connection, they bonded over the fact that they grew up pretty poor. This started a debate about whether it was worse to be in a New York winter without heat, or a summer in Georgia without air conditioning. 

“You can’t say Winter is worse. You’ve never experienced summer in the south.” Kat noticed Amanda’s accent became more pronounced, whether it was from the talk of home or the alcohol. “You sleep naked, but still wake up hot and sticky.”

Kat’s thoughts betrayed her by imaging Amanda’s body sticky with sweat. She took a large swig of her drink, blood rushing to her cheeks.

___

The air was thick with tension as they changed into their pajamas, and slipped under the covers. Kat made sure to stick as close to the edge as possible, not wanting to make the other woman uncomfortable. She didn’t know many straight girls who were cool with sleeping in the same bed as her, unless they weren’t as straight as they said.

Was Amanda one of those girls? She knew about Ginger’s, after all. Maybe she’s just an ally, Kat thought. She had at least slept with two men, Kat knew for sure. There was no indication that Amanda was into women. Except the niggling feeling Kat got when Amanda stood a certain way, or the way she dressed sometimes. Her internal radar always seemed to ping when she looked at Amanda.

On the other side of the bed, Amanda turned onto her side. Then tossed onto her other side. Then on her back. She heard Kat shift. “Sorry,” Amanda whispered. “Can’t get comfy.”

“All good.” Kat turned to face Amanda. “Do you want me to ask for the cot?”

“Nah.” Amanda craned her neck to look at her. “Unless you want to.”

She felt Kat shake her head. “I’m used to sharing a bed.” 

“With your girlfriend?” Amanda’s voice came out confrontational, making her wince.

Kat stiffened. “No, with my sister.”

“Oh.”

They laid in silence for a minute. A passing car illuminated their room for a flash.

“I haven’t had a girlfriend in a while,” Kat whispered.

“Yeah, the pandemic kinda killed the dating game,” Amanda replied, folding her hands over her stomach. “Men weren’t really beating down the door before then either.”

“But you’re so beautiful!” Kat blurted out.

Amanda just chuckled sadly. “A lot of the guys I meet don’t want an automatic family.”

Kat propped herself on her elbow. “Not even to hook up?”

Amanda wrinkled her nose. “I think I’m getting too old to play that game.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re fucking hot.” Woah, where’d that come from? Kat winced.

Amanda slowly turned towards Kat, their faces close now. “Yeah?”

“Yeah...”

In a split second, Amanda made a decision. She moved, and pressed her lips to Kat’s, who eagerly responded. Their movements became rushed, and soon Kat was pulling at Amanda’s tee. Amanda slipped it over her head, then helped Kat out of her own.

“Have you done this before?” Kat couldn’t help but ask.

“Yes.” Amanda’s mouth moved to Kat’s earlobe, her breath hot.

“At Ginger’s?” 

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.” Amanda bit down gently on her ear, making Kat moan. The sound flooded Amanda’s stomach with heat.

Amanda moved down Kat’s body, leaving open mouthed kisses. Her fingers ghosted over the front of Kat’s sports bra, making her nipples pebble. She leaned down, biting at one gently through the fabric.

“Oh, fuck!” Amanda hurriedly captured Kat’s groan in her mouth. Their tongues slipped over each other, wet and slick.

Amanda’s hand slipped under Kat’s hips, pulling down her pants and underwear in one tug. 

“Let me see you,” Amanda said, leaning over to snap on the lamp.

Now in the light, Kat could get a good look at Amanda leaning over her, her bare chest right in front of Kat’s face. Her breasts were full and round with pink stretch marks, and tiny nipples.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Kat breathed.

Amanda’s face broke into a cocky grin. “Not so bad yourself.”

They met back in a hurried kiss, tongues swirling around each other.

Kat felt Amanda’s hand on her inner thigh, stroking the sensitive skin. Kat shivered at the sensation, her eyes closing.

“What do you want?” Amanda’s voice in her ear.

Kat’s legs opened wider, begging for her touch. “Anything. You.”

Amanda’s mouth took her previous path, this time making it all the way down to where she wanted her most, the scent making Amanda’s mouth water.

She slid a finger down Kat’s slit, making the other woman gasp. She couldn’t help but tease, liking the way Kat’s eyes screwed shut in frustration.

“Amanda, please...”

Amanda ducked her head down, her mouth taking her finger’s place. She teased Kat’s entrance with her tongue, savoring the wetness that gathered there. 

“Please.”

Her tongue made contact with Kat’s clit, making her back arch. Kat’s thighs tightened around Amanda’s head more and more with every swipe. 

“Fuck, just like that.” 

Kat let out a gasp, Amanda’s mouth sucking hard on her clit. Heat built in Kat’s body, her muscles growing tight. The sheets were curled tight in her clenched fists.

“I’m close!”

Amanda could feel her, the wetness clinging to her lips, Kat’s hand moving to her hair, pulling gently as she pressed her cunt closer to Amanda’s face. Amanda suddenly pushed two fingers into her pussy, making Kat finally cum with a small scream of her name.

Amanda scissored her fingers, letting Kat ride out her orgasm, then moved up her body to give her a kiss, letting Kat taste herself on Amanda’s tongue.

Kat used the distraction to flip Amanda onto her back, straddling her hips. “My turn.”

Amanda shimmied out of her bottoms, finally leaving her bare. “Be my guest.”

Kat took her time, hands tracing Amanda’s breasts and collarbone. The light touch raised goosebumps on her body, her nipples hard. Kat circled one, then the other.

“Harder.” Amanda’s hand went to her own chest to demonstrate the strong pinch she liked. 

“You like it rough, huh?” Kat decided to up the game, and bit down on Amanda’s nipple instead.

Amanda groaned. “Fuck yeah, like that.”

Kat took the nipple in her mouth, sucking and biting the flesh. Amanda moaned loudly, her hand drifting down to her clit.

In a flash, Kat grabbed her wrist. “Nuh uh.” Kat grabbed the other wrist, and pinned them above Amanda’s blonde head. “Do I need to grab the cuffs?” Kat licked a stripe along Amanda’s neck. “Or are you going to be good?”

“I’ll be good,” Amanda promised. “But you should probably get going.” She bucked her hips pointedly, urging Kat to her pussy.

“Keep your hands there,” Kat ordered. She let go of Amanda, testing her. To her credit, Amanda didn’t move. “Good girl.”

She moved down the bed so she could get into a better position in front of Amanda’s cunt. It was mostly bare, except for a small triangle of blonde hair. Her lips were wet with her slick. 

Kat stroked her clit with her thumb, and in a quick move, thrust three fingers deep into her pussy, finding no resistance.

Amanda screamed, but didn’t move her hands to push Kat away. Kat pistoned in and out of her. “So good taking my fingers, baby.”

Kat’s words made Amanda tighten, her walls clenching down against Kat’s fingers. She moves her hand to massage Amanda’s front wall, the spot that Amanda could never reach on her own. 

It wasn’t long before Amanda was shuddering and gasping. “Oh, God….”

Kat withdrew her hand, pressing them into Amanda’s mouth. Her tongue made good work of cleaning off the younger girl’s fingers.

They both laid on their backs, breathing hard. Kat reached over to turn the lamp off, plunging the room back into darkness.

Amanda curled on her side, and Kat slung an arm around her waist, burying her face in her neck.

All tangled up, their tiny bed didn’t seem as small anymore.

[chalkrevelations]

OK, Word of Honor Ep 24. Spoilers, of course, so scroll away if you haven’t seen it and want to see it unspoiled.

First impression, right out of the gate – Four Seasons Manor is … very pink. Almost as pink as Wen Kexing, himself, in his current get-up. Also, it’s the place where we apparently take in and heal wounded animals, so we’re at the correct next stop on this journey. Aaaaand, then, what we’re going to do in the obligatory mid-episode extended emo-porn scene for this ep is literally sit around in our Fantasy Ancient China underwear, gaze longingly at each other, grasp each other’s hands, practically sit in each other’s laps, and have emotional, tear-filled heart-to-heart talks. We’re really going there. Good on you, show. No, seriously, this is exactly what I’m here for, so thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for delivering what you promised. Additional props for making sure Zhou Zishu looks so very pretty when he cries. Or maybe I should be thanking Zhang Zhehan and his perfect face for that, although I’m sure your lighting and camera people made some small contribution. Maybe. By the way, I notice that even in the sleeping robes, ZZS is wearing two layers. Are you currently playing a Victorian maiden because you’re consumptive and the cold is bothering you more than anyone else, or are you scandalized that your husband might catch a glimpse of ankle before the candles are blown out, my friend? I feel that either is a possibility, but given that you spent the first six eps of the show tits out in your beggar robes, I feel like it’s a little late to be clutching your collar closed.

A few touchpoints with other points of the show in this scene, maybe most prominently – ugh - the way I’m catching shades of Xie Wang and his Awful Yifu in the flashback scene with Zhou Zishu and Prince Jin. The fact that your interpersonal tactics are looking kind of like Awful Yifu’s interpersonal tactics does not fill me with confidence, Prince Jin, with your supposed vulnerability and how only he can help you and the hugs and when can he come and help you. It makes me uneasy, Prince Jin. Am I supposed to be uneasy about this? (Is this a deliberate unease you are creating in me, show?) Because it’s going to turn out that you’re going to take this kid, Prince Jin, this cousin of yours who’s struggling with all his might to support his own sect, who’s vulnerable at just the wrong (right for you, I guess) time, and you’re going to turn him into a murder weapon in pursuit of power and your own personal agenda, and that … that sounds kind of familiar and Awful, Prince Jin. I’m kind of questioning how much you actually care about this kid and how much you’re maybe gaslighting him in this scene. The fact that you were willing to have him sacrifice his entire sect for you, leaving him isolated, with no one in the world except you … I’m getting kind of a familiar creepy vibe off you, Prince Jin.

Also, I did twig that the poem you quoted as the poem that your shared laoshi wrote on the walls of his prison in blood before his body was cast out into the wilderness to be eaten by wild dogs – it’s the same poem you recite as Zhou Zishu rides away from his own bloody cage when he manages to escape Tian Chuang and you in Ep 1, so maybe you realized that keeping him, at that point, was only going to kill him immediately, but I’m not feeling particularly sanguine about the fact that you vowed to get him back. The fact that he’s supposed to be powerless and increasingly vegetative only makes this vow more creepy, because what DO you need want him for, in that case? (Also, did your laoshi write that poem at all? Or was that more gaslighting?)

They’re also pressing hard on the theme of “knowing” in this one, of knowing someone – we’ve always got the bedrock idea of zhiji, the one who knows you, tying Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing together, but that’s complicated, in ways this ep points up. Zhou Zishu says that the reason his other shidi died tragically is that they didn’t know him at all, but by contrast, he tells WKX that there’s nothing between them that can’t be spoken and then goes all in by revealing all of his deepest, darkest secrets, including that he sees himself as a coward and a deserter. This is in contrast with WKX’s (and A-Xiang’s) current stealth mode of hiding everything and just not talking about it. In this ep, we even see A-Xiang’s decision - for herself and as proxy for WKX’s actions (because these two relationships are the same relationship, at this point) – to say nothing about the latest jianghu big gossip re: the devils of the Ghost Valley, but instead to beat it out of town as fast as she can with her boyfriend before he can hear about it. Because that isn’t going to come back to bite anyone in the ass. A-Xiang, I love you to death, and I realize you’re terrified, but I really need you to get off the mental hamster wheel where this is concerned and THINK.

Anyway, nowhere in Zhou Zishu’s telling of this tale of how he’s the ultimate failure who killed everyone he ever loved because he was naive enough to be taken in by a power-hungry asshole is there the slightest indication that he thinks any of this info will make his shidi/zhiji turn away from him, and indeed, Wen Kexing’s response to further knowing his zhiji is to say, but you have to stop blaming yourself, you must have had your reasons. Even though Wen Kexing won’t, can’t, see that Zhou Zishu’s response to him opening up and letting Zhou Zishu actually know him would be the exact same response. I mean, ffs, my dude. The guy told you last ep that he will help you burn down Zhao Jing. Take a hint. But no, Wen Kexing's response is to have to flee outside where he can Be Alone and mentally and emotionally curl up to protect all the tenderest and most vulnerable places. Also to tootle his xiao throughout the night outside his crush’s window like the worst emo kid ever. Wen Kexing, we are at the place for healing wounded animals. I love you to death, and I realize you’re terrified, but I really need you to get off the mental hamster wheel where this is concerned and THINK. Get there faster.

I thought this one would be shorter than the Ep 23 reax, but it’s not, really, is it? Final random thoughts:

Listen, are we ever going to actually deal with the fact that Wen Kexing is responsible for Zhang Chengling’s entire family and sect being massacred? Because that actually came up again in the ep, and we might want to get a jump on it.

Baby Zhou-zongzhu, who is struggling desperately to keep your sect together while bigger and stronger sects around you try to eat you up, I have a bitter angry grape two turns to your left who might be willing to commiserate with you.

Speaking of AU ideas – I’m sure someone has written this, but I am wary about rummaging too deep into the WoH fic yet, because although I have been spoiled for a few things, I don’t want to be completely spoiled. But has anyone tackled the idea of what it would look like if Wen Kexing had grown up in Four Seasons Manor? Would the guy who clawed his way up to be leader of Ghost Valley be able to give his shixiong enough support that they never have to go to Prince Jin, even if he didn’t have the experience of growing up in Ghost Valley? Would he have followed Zhou Zishu into Tian Chuang with the rest of Four Seasons Manor? And if he did, would Zhou Zishu have made his break for freedom before Wen Kexing died? If he didn't follow into Tian Chuang, what would their separation look like? What would their reunion look like? And what would WKX have been doing in the meantime? (Would there have been illicit meetings, or would ZZS completely cut him off to protect him?)

[hchollym]

Aerion x Viserys - We Finally Got Our Dragons

I couldn’t help myself. I will go down with this crack ship  🤣

Warnings: Afterlife, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Age Difference

Read it on AO3. 

____________

Most people think that a person finds peace after they die. Aerion would tell you differently.

The Targaryens have their own “exclusive” afterlife, stuck for eternity with only one another for company. While he's glad that they all appear as they were right before they died and not as they died (for then he would have a hole in his throat and be unable to talk), it still does not change the fact that he’s stuck with these shits forever. Most of his relatives find enjoyment (or at least contentment) here (seeing as half of them are married to each other), but for others – like Aerion – this place is a special kind of hell.

He died drinking wildfire. It certainly wasn’t his finest moment, nor was it something that he wants to remember, given the resulting pain. And yet, his family will never let him forget it. They torment him about it daily, as if he hadn’t already suffered enough.

“Oh look, it’s the Prince Who Thought He Was A Dragon,” they sneer at him whenever he walks by. It’s not as if he’s the first Targaryen to think of himself as a dragon and die because of it. What about all the other fools who got themselves killed trying to hatch a dragon egg? Why aren’t they mocked as he is?

Even his own father sighs disapprovingly when he sees him, as if Aerion brought him embarrassment. It makes Aerion scoff. His older brother was literally known as “Daeron the Drunken” and yet Aerion is somehow the stain on their family name? It’s absolutely ridiculous. His brothers ignore him (he hears their comments about Aerion the Monstrous, and really, when are they going to get over it?).

His own son, Maegor – who joined them when he got into a fight with the wrong person at a tavern – won’t talk to Aerion, because he blames Aerion’s “madness” as the reason he never got the throne. How ungrateful can you be? Maegor wouldn’t even be alive without Aerion.

His bitch of a wife isn’t much better. She refuses to allow him into her bed, and her brother and father are more than happy to guard her chamber door. To be honest, it’s not a huge loss though; she was annoying anyway, always crying and whimpering and screaming while he was trying to enjoy himself. Still, it’s the audacity that angers him.

You would think that the ancestors would grow tired of insulting him after so many years, but it appears that there is not nearly enough exciting news to go around here, so the taunts and insults go on year after year. Even the “Mad King” doesn’t get scorned as much, because people seem to either fear him or feel pity for his insanity.

Aerion tries to ignore most of the ridicule by keeping to himself, which is thankfully easy to do in this endless hallway with infinite corridors and chambers, but that doesn’t completely stop the talk from reaching his ears. He’d been humiliated, angry, and defensive for the first decade or so of these disrespectful comments, but after more than 60 years, he’s just sick and tired of it.

So when the others stop talking about him and begin insulting another, one they mockingly call "the last dragon" and "the beggar king,” Aerion is initially relieved, and then intrigued. He questions his father, who will at least answer him (albeit grudgingly). When he hears the tale of this Viserys, he feels an instant kinship that takes him by surprise.

He’s never felt like he could relate to someone else before, but the fact is, Viserys thought himself a dragon and he too died for it in an excruciating way. The other man was treated like shit in life and now again in death by his own family (Aerion knows the feeling), and his own sister had him killed in a cruel twist of irony.

Aerion’s glad that the attention on him has finally stopped, but he finds himself unexpectedly feeling sympathy for Viserys – an emotion so foreign to him that it took him a while to identify what it was. Perhaps it's because they share similar deaths (though by vastly different means), or that Aerion knows what it's like to be humiliated by the hypocritical ancestors, or because he knows what it’s like for your own family to turn on you.

He hears that Viserys' mother won't even give him sympathy because of how he treated his sister, but so what? The bitch killed him. Why are mothers always so quick to defend the weak? Aerion’s own mother is still angry at him for his treatment of Aegon, but he doesn’t think he has anything to apologize for. Why should he be “nice” to pathetic people? Daenerys should have been grateful that Viserys raised her after they fled King's Landing. Aerion would have sold her immediately to the highest buyer and bought himself a nice house until he raised his army to take back the throne.

He hears through the gossip that Viserys locks himself inside his chambers to avoid the others, which Aerion also understands. He's not entirely sure why he decides to go see him, but perhaps it's because he’s sick of being judged and looked down on, and Viserys seems like the one person who won’t do that.

He makes his way to Viserys’ chambers, holding his head high and ignoring the looks he gets along the way, only to find that the others have painted slurs on the door, and Aerion feels disgust at their tackiness. How old are they? Five? He opens the doors without knocking and sees a man sitting on the bed, his elbows rested on his knees and his head in his hands. When the figure looks up, his expression one of annoyance, anger, and pure exhaustion (a combination which Aerion knows well), and Aerion is struck by just how young he is.

For some reason, he pictured Viserys as close to his age, but he couldn't have been more than 25, though Aerion guesses it’s actually closer to 20. He's practically still a boy, and Aerion feels a hot wave of rage rush through him. This is who they are tormenting for making mistakes when he was exiled in Essos (by no fault of his own), trying to care for an ungrateful sister who eventually murdered him? Honestly, and they thought he was monstrous!

"I'm Aerion Brightflame," he starts before Viserys can get upset at his intrusion. He refuses to give up using that name; the ancestors can go fuck themselves. Viserys' expression clears, and he blinks in confusion before frowning warily.

"What do you want?" He asks suspiciously, and Aerion shrugs nonchalantly.

"I know how these shits can be when they decide to harass someone. Fuck them. You don’t need any of these bumbling fools. You and I, we're still dragons," he assures Viserys, not entirely understanding why he feels compelled to do so, but Aerion knows that he still is a dragon, regardless of how everything ended, and he’s willing to say that Viserys is as well out of solidarity for the mutual enemies/family. Viserys looks shocked before scowling.

"Clearly not, seeing as melted gold killed me, and fire cannot kill a dragon," he points out bitterly, not even mentioning Aerion's own failures, for which Aerion feels unexpectedly grateful for. He sits down next to Viserys, and he finds it hilarious how the other man looks alarmed and ready to flee.

"And how many others have been killed by fire when trying and failing to hatch dragon eggs? We're still Targaryens. We’re still dragons, no matter what those stupid sea cows have to say.” Viserys' expression changes from one of shock to hesitant gratitude. It's a look that Aerion is not used to having directed at him; fear, anger, and even lust are common emotions he’s used to seeing when people look at him, but never gratitude. It makes his stomach churn oddly.

After that, they form a strange bond of companionship. They spend most of their time in one of their chambers (it’s easier to avoid the others that way), but occasionally they venture out to the other rooms with alcohol or food. They don't need either, but it provides them with a distraction to the never-ending boredom. They even throw knives sometimes, though Aerion had to teach Viserys because he never learned.

Their conversations start by talking about all the people they hate and are angry at (of which there are many). Then it changes to their time in Essos (the good, the bad, and the ugly). And finally, they talk of their own failures; the feel of the gold burning through Viserys' skin and hair; the way the wildfire scorched Aerion’s throat and blinded him in pain. They talk of how humiliating it was (and still is), and of their disappointment in the way their lives turned out.

It's odd, because Aerion has never felt the urge to share his thoughts with anyone - no one was ever good enough or would truly understand (until now) - but he finds that it's actually rather nice. He quickly decides that he hates Viserys’ brother Rhaegar – he started this whole mess and yet he still looks at Viserys with disappointment, and it makes Aerion want to burn him. And Viserys quickly decides that Maegor is being selfish by hating his own father. Aerion’s found an unexpected ally in Viserys, and it’s the first time he’s felt anything other than miserable since his death.

...

Maybe it happens because of their surprisingly easy companionship, or maybe it’s because they are so isolated from everyone else (no one else seems capable of getting along with them), or maybe it's even simply because it's been years since Aerion slept with someone. Regardless of the reasons, they somehow end up in bed together. Aerion doesn’t know exactly how it happened, but he’s not complaining.

Viserys accepted being the bottom quickly enough, and Aerion found out later that it's because it wasn’t his first time; he’d been forced to sell his body in order to survive at his lowest points in exile, and Aerion’s never felt protective of anyone before, but he feels it now for Viserys. He also feels irrationally jealous that someone else dared to touch what is his, and yes, he has come to think of Viserys as his.

Viserys is wonderfully responsive, biting his shoulder, scratching his back until he bleeds, moaning and cursing loudly, urging him to go faster and harder. It makes Aerion’s blood sing, his thoughts fuzzy, and the heat envelop him all over until he’s nearly drowning in it.

But it's Viserys’ eyes that really send Aerion over the edge. The pale, lilac orbs dilate in lust, but there's also anger, determination, and hurt in them. Viserys has a vulnerability in his eyes that Aerion would have thought had been destroyed years ago, but somehow it remains, and it's both intoxicating and addicting to see.

When Aerion finally decides to try bottoming (because why the hell not? they're dead, and he’s bored and ready to do something new), he finishes embarrassingly quick. It's better than he ever imagined; fire seems to completely consume him, so hot and bright that Aerion feels like he might pass out. Viserys' cock rubs against a place inside of him that causes sparks to shoot throughout his entire body, and all he can do is pant and gasp as he clings to Viserys for dear life, thinking that if he weren't already dead, then this would definitely kill him because it's too much, but he wants it more than anything.

Viserys never mentions his premature response, and they don’t talk about the fact that Aerion starts to roll them over more and more so he can wrap his legs around Viserys' waist, urging the other man to fuck him. He's relieved by Viserys' lack of acknowledgement, because even in death, he still has his pride, and it's embarrassing how much he loves to fall apart underneath the younger man.

And when Viserys guides Aerion to ride him like a stallion for the first time, Aerion screams himself hoarse, and it suddenly reminds him too much of the wildfire burning his throat, and he starts to panic, so Viserys holds him until he calms, but they don't talk about that either.

...

When Daenerys does finally show up, Aerion becomes insanely angry. She's cold and distant, though she does try to talk to Viserys, and Aerion wants to kill her. How dare she?! He refuses to let her see Viserys until the younger man finally tells him to leave them so they can speak.

Aerion feels something hot and ugly churn in his stomach at that, and he waits by the door until Daenerys leaves, looking only barely fazed. He instantly goes inside to see Viserys' eyes shining with angry tears. He still hasn't gotten good at hiding his emotions yet, and truthfully, Aerion kind of hopes that he never does.

"She hatched the dragons. The fire didn't kill her," Viserys says angrily, but there's also jealously and pure despair there, and Aerion doesn't like it. He pulls Viserys into his arms and kisses him soundly until Viserys pulls back and leans his head on Aerion's chest, sighing heavily.

"Why her?" He asks, though the unspoken why not me? is obvious.

"Because the gods are cruel," he answers honestly, because she didn’t deserve it more than either of them.

"But it doesn't change things. She's here now, just like us, with no dragons. Fuck her, and fuck all of them. We are still dragons," Aerion continues vehemently. He feels Viserys swallow and nod, as if trying to convince himself.

"We are dragons," Viserys says shakily before gaining confidence.

"We are dragons. And while she's here alone, I have you now; my own dragon," he finishes stubbornly, and Aerion feels a rush of something that he chooses not to examine further at those words. He tightens his grip on Viserys and kisses the top of his head.

"And I have you. Looks like we both finally got our dragons."