#i know u have her travelling back to westeros

[visd3stele]

I also love princess reader x criston but I also enjoy suffering.So,if u up to it,can you write a heartbreaking imagine where criston has to watch his princess getting married(like her father wanted)to someone’s else?That someone can be Daemon (knowing how targaryens are)but only if u are comfortable with that(like the scene when he asks Viserys to wed Rhaenyra to him,but instead he asked for Y/n)if not it can be whoever you wish!Thank you and sorry if its long 🥰🥰

would you look at that, anonny, what a match! haven't written angst in a while and i missed it. so, hope this is painful enough :)

tw: descriptive mentions of smut, forced marriage, forced incest, canon incest, brief awkward mention of Laenor's sexuality (showing a glimpse of canon Criston, but not hateful), lots of hurt no comfort, i think that's all 😅

masterlist ; requests

a/n: can be read as a stand alone or as a continuation of these two: [1]; {2}

Take my heart with you where you go

"I love you," a kiss to Criston's nose. "I love you," another on the corner of his lips. "I love you," your voice sounded childish the way you said it. A bubble of joy have been expanding in the depth of your chest since you first spoke the words. And you couldn't stop saying them. "I love you!" You wanted to shout so the whole Westeros could hear.

Criston laughed, taking your face in his hands. "I love you," he pressed his lips to yours. He let his palm travel to the back of your neck, deepening the hard, passionate touch. The other one sustained his weight as he pulled you above him.

You laid together on Attor's back, your head resting atop of his chest. It was an usual sight in King's Landing skies. A black dragon slicing the clouds without a sound, a knight lounged on his back, one arm beneath his head and another rubbing lovingly over the princess hugging him.

Nothing more than giggles, whispers of devotion, longing gazes and innocents touches ever happened on these rides. A time when you could behave as madly and sweetly in love as you wanted, away from privy eyes and petty gossips.

"I wish I could marry you." Criston sighed, not meaning to voice his thoughts, but so content that his guard fell off.

You perked your head up, prompted on your chin against his shoulder. "Maybe you could."

Attor took an abrupt turn before you could say more and you landed on Criston. "Hello, there," he brushed the h/c strands from your face with a smile. You scoffed adoringly and kissed his chin. The dragon gruffed, as if apologizing for the warry ride.

"I think Attor is getting tired."

"You're right," you said, getting up. "Let's take this good boy back home, shall we?" You sweetened your voice like talking to a baby, caressing the scales on the dragon's head.

Criston shook his head. He couldn't get enough of your bond with the majestic predator. "You Targaryens are an odd kind."

"You seem to like odd."

He circled your waist, dropping a wet kiss to your neck. "Odd is the best. What did you mean when you said we could get married?"

Turning to face him, you beamed, a smile so large it couldn't fit on your face, and yet it barely contained all your happiness.

"My sister Rhaenyra is the heir. My father has taken a new wife with whom he had new children. My uncle Daemon is ever so present in the court life." Your voice grew higher and higher as excitement settled in your heart. "I'm neglectable royal weight. There's no need for me, I don't have to be a princess and play the throne games. I can convince father to let me be with you. He did say I can pick my husband, and you are a court's favorite, oh, brave knight."

Against his better judgement, Criston allowed the seed of hope take root in the center of his very being. The same night, it withered and died.

As you closed in the palace, a lit room caught your interest. The quiet dragon brought you closer to a window, letting you have a view of an angry Viserys towering over Daemon, a knife pushed into the flesh of the prince's neck.

Criston and you shared a worried, confused look. Neither of you could make out the low growls the king barked at his brother, nor the answers Daemon spit back.

"It is not my daughter you lust for!" Viserys roared, so sudden a sound, sharp in the peaceful night, it made you wince. "It is my throne."

Then silence again, as your uncle sought to pacify your father.

"What do you think led to this?"

You knitted your brows in thought. A vision of your older sister and Daemon on the streets of King's Landing, sneaking around like fools in love, so eagerly passing you over to the knight you happened to love. The look they both had before entering that brothel. "Rhaeny, what in the skies above!" You muttered.

"I think my sister and my uncle fucked." You said matter of factly. It wasn't unusual in your family, as you were well aware of. The thought of uncle and niece had no effect on you, as it did on Ser Cole – who scrunched his nose, mouth agape in disgust. No, it was the power Daemon always seemed to have had over your sister that worried you. The way Rhaenyra looked up to him ever since you were little girls, training baby dragons to listen to your will. How easily it could be for your uncle to take advantage of that!

It barely ever happened, but you agreed with your father. Daemon must be using your sister, the heir, to get to the throne! And the thought angered you so, that a single word burned in your skull: dracarys.

Criston landed a comforting weight on your shoulders, rubbing your shoulder blades soothingly. But his blood turned to ice no dragon fire could melt as he froze on his feet at Viserys' next fit of rage.

"Y/n is too young to marry!"

You? Why would he ask of you? The same questions roamed the wintered lands of Ser Cole's numbed mind. You nibbled at your lips, his own wobbled in futile attempts to form words. Matching furrowed eyebrows and watery eyes locked in the distant embrace of forbidden, doomed lovers. One that time oversaw many a years so far, and will continue to do so for the rest of days until there shall be no more hearts to break at the dusk of worlds.

Daemon spoke louder now as well. "You parade her around Westeros as a prize for noble lords with Rhaenyra not long ago."

"You haven't shown any interest in my y/n so far. Where does this come from?"

A pause. So long you thought your life has ended over and over again, being reborned every single time, cursed back to this place, bound to your misery. Tears pierced your eyes, tells of anger and fear. You couldn't leave the window until you knew your faith. One, you hoped, you still could decide for yourself. Surely your father wouldn't allow Daemon have his way!

"What can I say, brother, love strikes like an assassin in the night."

You rolled your eyes, tensing under Criston't hands. Daemon didn't love you, he never even liked you. In fact, you suspected for a long time he hated your guts. Except, you couldn't figure out why.

No, this must have something to do with Rhaenyra. She chose a husband to strengthen her claim to the throne. Laenor Velaryon.

"Maybe he tries to make her jealous. Could he be in love with Rhaeny, after all? Not just her power?"

You didn't realize you mused over your thoughts out loud until Criston tightened his grip on you, answering your questions. "Greedy worm," he seethed. "Both, most likely."

"What do you mean?"

"Your sister is to marry Ser Laenor Velaryon, is she not? After a trip around the kingdoms, meeting the most noticeable lords, she picks the one who is rumored to have... other preferences? A marriage of convenience with someone who wouldn't care what adventures she might have, as he himself would seek men to bed. A fragile union..."

"That Daemon can exploit. Have my sister and the reigns of the realm," you finished for your lover as realization of his implies settled in. In all the chaos of your plagued mind, you couldn't help feel bad for Ser Laenor. He deserved happiness next to someone he loved. It was the only anchor you managed to hold onto as your ship's chains rustied and broke one by one.

"I promised them both they can choose their partner," Viserys finally replied. "If she agrees..."

"She won't." Daemon stated simply, not at all bothered by the thought. "But you know it's the best for our house. With me as the future queen's sister husband, my input on Rhaenyra's claim to the throne will be more appreciated. You have sons now, brother. Both whom will be favored over the princess. We need to protect her by any means."

You knew your fate was sealed with those words. The words of a snake, rather than a dragon. Viserys fell in Daemon's carefully laid out trap. He loved you both, but Rhaenyra, the oldest, the princess who shared an interest in ruling, the one he could see himself into, despite the striking manners of your mother she embodied – her, he favored.

The king would do anything for his heir to the throne. Including offering you – your life, destiny, being – away on a silver platter.

"Criston," the tears broke free now, streaming down your burning face with such force they scratch your cheeks and pierced your collarbone when they fell from your chin. You tried to keep your voice below a whisper, but sobs and cries knotted in your neck from the bottom of your core begged to be released. Just like you wanted to shout your love to the world with all your might and soul minutes earlier – it felt like ages ago – now your body needed to release its distraction to the designers of it.

Your mouth opened and closed several times, desperately trying to say something. But what felt like sharp rocks grown on your lungs and trachea chocked you. So you shook your head in helplessness. Fists bowled at your sides, two ends of stiff arms pushed forward to sustain a crumbling spine.

Criston has been hurt in battle before. Hit in the head, metal slashing his calves or chest, pierced through his gut by thick two-blades swords. Yet nothing felt like this. His vision went blurry, as if his brain was closing off against any painful reality. Unaware of himself, the knight clenched his teeth. So hard a clash, grinding against each other, the enamel sparked with a rattled whine.

Attor flew away, passing by your window so you could unmount him safely. The dragon yelped at your pain, head held down mimicking your own defeated posture.

Ser Criston wrapped you in his arms. A lie of a beautiful dream. His chin rested on your head in a calming position, but you could feel the spasm of his chest, holding back his sobs. His fingers dugded in you, wanting to bring you closer. To forge your body with his and never letting you go. Forever together, no one able to separate you.

Similar thought flood your brain. You fisted his clothes, his hair, pulling tight and hard with each new wave of ache crushing over the sand of your soul. You kept your mouth shout to muffle your cries, not wanting to bring attention to what would be the last intimate scene you shared with the man you love. Eyes wide open in a poor attempt to dry the tears, breathing on your nose, sniffing his scent deep in your being, hoping to take carry it with you forever.

You clung to him as you would a snipping thread, dangling over a bottomless chasm. With each passing second bringing morning closer, the thread unraveled, its rippling sound an echo in your empty heart.

Criston burned. With anger for the Targaryen prince, imagining himself killing Daemon in that tournament instead of merely pushing him off the horse. With fury at the king for having no care of your being, treating you like a pawn in his scheems. With love, bright, shiny love for you. Only for you. Never could be someone else in your stead. Y/n, the dragon princess who not only tamed his heart, but caused it to imprint on her. You were his light, his joy, his future, his home. And now, knowing he'll lose you, Criston was left hollow.

"I love you so much. Can't love anyone but you." You sniffled.

He nodded. "You have my heart in the palm of your hands, y/n. Don't forget it, keep it with you wherever life may lead you."

"Of course." You brought your hands to his face, brushing your thumb over his wet cheeks. He gave you a sad smile, wiping tears off your chin with his thumb.

When you kissed for one last time, your wet lips were peppered in salt. You have tasted each other off your the other's mouth. In your nights of making love, the whiteness of your orgasms smeared on your faces. Licking, kissing, sucking it off each other. An euphoria of feeling every part of each other's bodies driving you both to the heights of pleasure and adoration.

The taste of tears drove you both mad again. Though very differently. No pleasure, but instead desperation. No adoration, but feral love of two souls ripped apart with savageness, crushing within their own.

Blood mingled in your mouths when you bite each other's lips. Crazy to unite your essences. Teeth clinked, tongues tied to one another, noses nuzzled each other's cheeks. Roaming hands bruised your bodies as you shared one last night of love.

In the morning, Ser Cole was gone. Ghosts of his touches, his kisses, the only things you had left of him. And the helmet you stole on your first night together sitting on your nightstand like a solemn trinket of ancient times – named the golden days by many – that old souls miss so much.

In the afternoon you learned he joined the Night's Watch, vowing off marriage, children, family and love. Vowing off the image of you, for none other could represent these in his life.

By evening, you were wed. You have put out a show of force, resisting as much as you could. Rhaenyra has been kept away. She would have helped you, or at least share your hate for your vile husband. No matter. The two Targaryen men had their way.

Lone in his black fur, in his new bed, Ser Cole willed his eyes open. The journey to the Wall was long, tiresome. He stubbornly insisted to walk all the way to his new home. Every time his eyelids united, he'd see your body dressed only in candle lights. Your mouth parted in soft moans, lips spread in wide smiles. And Daemon in his place. Your blissed out face would turn to knitted brows, pain and cries erasing the reverence he worshipped you with. As the vile prince took you for his own pleasure, wife duties and selfish plans.

Criston shuddered with no one to see it. Or if they did, they never questioned it. He dragged his void body through life, not a single conscious thought to spark emotion in him. What could he feel with, now that his heart was gone?

You never resumed your nightly flies, visiting Attor only to talk to him and gather your shrads of heart together for a short while. How could you fly (freedom) when you were caged as never before? Your spirit died, taking in the rust you religiously cleaned off Criston's helmet every day.

Y/n Targaryen, the dream who never lived. The queen who could have been. The realm's poisoned dragon.

#ser criston #ser criston cole x reader #ser criston cole #criston cole x reader #criston cole #my fic ideas #my fic #my fic writing #my wriitng #my words #my writing

[stovmborn-arc]

                                  a  surprise  starter  for  @caediteos​​   !!!   ♡ ♡

             “ you say that i am the prince who was promised. and what if you are wrong? ”  lavendar irises flare  ;  the flames of torches sitting upon the walls of her battlement room. there is still a discomfort that sits within daenerys, knowing that the table had been used by others before her. dragonstone once belonged to house targaryen  –––  it was her familial seat and just like the iron throne, it had been taken from them. she was certain that she could still feel all of their ghosts here  ...  her mother, rhaegar, elia, rhaenys and aegon. a strange part of her thought that perhaps, the ghost of viserys lived here too. only much younger and undamaged from the cruelty of the world that laid before them. exile was a punishment for those who committed treason, not for young children who had fled for their own safety. 

daenerys stormborn had never truly known what home was. it seemed as though everywhere they had stopped, they would soon be on the move again. all she had wanted was a little stability  ...  somewhere that she could call home, even if just for a short while. she had found it in the house with the red door and the lemon tree outside her window but daenerys knew that not all fantasies could come true. soon, she would avenge her family and take back what had been stolen from them all of those years ago. the seven kingdoms were her home. 

it was not her intention to doubt bellatrys, though the mother of dragons could never believe in gods. everything that had happened so far was not because it had been willed by a power far greater than them, it was because she had fought for it  ;  she had made her dreams come true and there were several others yet, that would follow. so far, she had broken several spokes off of the wheel that she intended to eliminate but the war had not been won yet. if the gods were real, then why would they be so cruel? fingers fumbled for the decanter on the table, filling two goblets and handing one to the priestess as she gestured to the chair beside the fire place. 

“ only the prince who was promised can bring the dawn  –––  ”  she uttered to herself, lavendars captivated by the embers that burned before her, taking a seat herself. reptilian tongue uttered the words mindlessly, as though they had already become ingrained into her. daenerys had heard of prophecies and as much as she wished to believe it, she had listened to other men tell viserys that people drank secret toasts to his health on the other side of the narrow sea. he had been foolish enough to believe them, so why should she? a sigh caught itself in her throat, quickly numbing it with a taste of the ruby that sat in her cup. lashes left the fire, flickering to the woman who sat by her side.  “  –––   tell me, what made the lord of light choose me. ”

#iv. you’re in the great game now » threads. #vi. we don’t get to choose whom we love » alt characters. #caediteos. #i thought i'd leave it open for u #!!! #i know u have her travelling back to westeros #or joining daenerys in essos #so feel free to take ur pick

[mountain-ash-and-rusted-iron]

this is an oc masterpost of all my haf-formed ocs languishing on pinterest with their messy aesthetics and unedited blurbs, in roughly chronological order of their creation, plus sorted by fandom. this post is only asoiaf, harry potter, hunger games, and riverdale, cos i have tooooooo many original characters otherwise and the post was getting incredibly long. (note that i love my ocs but these one’s are not polished or even the final versions of their characters, i just wanted to post them lol)

under a read more, if you’re on mobile start scrolling i guess, sorry,,,

Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire:

Laeya Targeryen: (child of Rhaella and Aerys Targaryen, born 280 AC - three years older than Danaerys) 

Fearful of her impending marriage, Laeya is eleven when she takes her younger sister and flees across the sea to Dorne, hiding herself and Dany with dyed hair and badly controlled magic. As Leia and Dani Sand they learn to live normally. At 15 Leia joins the Royal Guard and secures Dany work as a tailor's apprentice. When she is 17, an assassin tries to kill her in front of the Dornish court and everything changes...

- so laeya straight up has magic, which im considering an extension of the dragon thing dany has - she can control flame and for the disguise uses her ‘inner fire’ to make her eyes white-blue like super hot flames, cos the purple eyes are super distinctive. and then she’s discovered and suddenly politics are happening. honestly she’s entirely a way for me to remove the child marriage bits of the targaryen storyline (stop marrying off your twelve-year-old baby sister viserys u asshole) - in terms of meta/basics, laeya doesn’t have a fc cos most of my early ocs don’t, and bcs i picture her as emilia clarke with faked dark hair and blue eyes lol

and a quick aesthetic below:

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Kyrra Snow: (child of Robert Baratheon and Maery Snow, birthdate ???)

Kyrra Snow is the eldest natural-born child of Robert Baratheon, current King of Westeros, and daughter of Maery Snow, a Southron (but Northern-born) merchant woman. After her mother realises Kyrra was growing up a little too much like her father in looks and needed to leave the far South before she caught the wrong sort of attention, Kyrra was sent off to travel with her aunt and cousins. She is 17 and heading further north, to Winter Town, when Jon Arryn dies.

- kyrra’s another child of everyone’s favourite asshole king, and she’s got a lot of people after her head, but she just wants to travel and continue her work as a simple peddler. (riiip poor girl) honestly she’s not that developed but yolo -

aes:

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Brynn Stark: (child of Catelyn and Eddard Stark, Robb’s twin sister)  

Brynn believes in honour and family, and she is loyal to Winterfell and the North above all else. Likes - archery, embroidery and weaving. Betrothed to [some young Northern lord] to keep the bonds between the Norther families strong.

-i basically made brynn as a contrast to sansa’s pro-southnness and excessive femininity and arya’s anger and desire for swords (relatable mood tho lmao). so brynn is here to mediate, extoll the virtues of both needlework and weapons, make a decent marriage to someone she likes, if not loves, and hold down the fort in the North while shit gets increasingly messier in the South. and a possible faceclaim is Àstrid Bergès-Frisbey - 

aes:

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Rosienne Lannister: (child of Joanna and Tywin Lannister, born 273 AC)

Rose is looked at by the realm with dismissal, a consolation prize for her father, a spare daughter only useful for matchmaking, but at least able-bodied and pretty, unlike her brother. After a long betrothal, Rose is married to Willas Tyrell at the age of eighteen, cementing her role as the next Lady of High Garden...

- Rosie/Rose is a bonus Lannister, bcs why not. likes cyvasse and the harp, soft and kind and maternal, powerful in her own way. originally she was from a minor divergence where joanna survives tyrion’s birth and goes on to have another kid, but not sure if i’ll keep that aspect, so for now she’s tyrion’s twin -

and her aes (yes that quote is cropped, no i don’t care rn):

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honourable mentions to my other got underdeveloped got/asoiaf ocs who need more effort before i post properly about them:

Tamlen Storm, a rookery apprentice (working for the Maester of House Tully, managing the ravens) who may or may not be a reincarnated si-oc trying to save westeros, 

and an unnamed northern huntress who stumbled into the plot somehow and wants her normal life back (entirely inspired by Keira Knightley as Gwyn in Princess of Thieves, when she’s doing archery stuff and looking v butch).

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Harry Potter:

Taurus ‘Ara’ Lestrange:  (child of Bellatrix and Roldolphous Lestrange, born 1978) 

Raised by the Goblins after a legal mix-up following her parents' imprisonment in Azkaban, Taurus is good with a sword and aiming to be the next Minister of Magic. She attends Hogwarts with the other magical kids her age, under the fake identity Ara Burke, unknown cousin of a minor half-blood family. When the Potter brat’s drama starts destroying her change at an education just as her fourth year, her OWL prep year, begins, Ara intervenes.

- im tangentially aware that as bellatrix’s kid she’s almost occupying the place of whats-her-name from the cursed child, but considering that i know nothing about the cursed child and don’t care about it anyway, i have elected to ignore this. her actual parent might turn out to be some smitten half-blood from a minor branch of the Greengrass family, or it might actually be Rodolphous, who knows. slightly inspired by the fic ‘Harry Crow’ (by robst on ff.net) where harry is raised by the goblins -

messy aes:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Valerian Potter: (child of Lily and James Potter, born 1980)

After the Potter twins’ parents are murdered by Voldemort, they’re dumped on the doorstep of Number 4, Privet Drive. Dealing with two traumatised magical orphans, Petunia and Vernon Dursley turn to violence and neglect to stay in control, acting far more harshly than expected. With the arrival of two Hogwarts letters, life gets complicated incredibly quickly. (Self-sufficient and scarred from abuse, Val and Harry are immediately Sorted into Slytherin). 

- val’s fic is basically an angst fest, okay,,, -

aes:

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and shout-outs to: holly addison potter, a half-baked reincarnation si-oc (i love that concept a lot, can u tell) and my fav girl thea dursley, who already has her own fic and so isn’t getting a proper spot in this post 

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The Hunger Games:

Asher: (District Two, age 18) 

[rip no blurb for asher]

-asher is a career from two, who wins the 70th games. mostly im focusing on her recovery and how the games function in two, with training volunteers and mentoring and collecting sponsors, plus eventually the rebellion. lots of the D2 headcanon i have is inspired by @/lorata but i defintely made a distinct effort to have my own stuff, cos where’s the fun in plagiarism -

aes for Asher’s Games:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  Rowan Everdeen: (District Twelve, age 19)

Rowan will do anything to protect her family. This extends to going to Head Peacekeeper Cray on a cold winters night, charging the most she can get for her virginity.  It extends to Reaping Day, when she steps out in front of the crowd and says “I volunteer as tribute” in the steadiest voice she can muster.  It extends to clawing her way out of the Arena, bloody and exhausted, with blades in her hands and violence kept tucked behind her teeth. It extends further, to a simple ‘Yes, President Snow’ when he coldly, carefully implies her family might meet with an accident if she doesn’t play the good little Victor (and fuck the people who pay the Capitol for her company). It extends to joining the Rebellion, to looking President Coin directly in the eye and agreeing to be a Mockingjay, a symbol for the people to rally around.

- another everdeen kiddo! as the big sister, rowan volunteers for prim, and goes through the Games - she’s a healer and a hunter, and a decent enough actor that she can manage interviews and a camera presence, unlike katniss. rowan also pairs well with a minor au i have, where the reapings are spaced out over a week and official training is a longer, giving the capitol a nice, long buildup to get excited and place bets, etc., and giving the poor, underfed tributes from the outer districts a better chance, which makes for more interesting television and better Games -

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Adrasteia Crane: (The Capitol, age 28) Unlike her big brother, Adrasteia doesn’t want to be a Gamemaker. Instead, she wants to create clothes, artwork, to enrapture the Capitol. She wants to be a Games stylist. After years of design school, of working her way up the ranks, first a PA’s assistant, and then fetching and carrying for Twelve’s prep team, and then eventually on a prep team for the dull tributes from Six, Adrasteia Crane finally has what she wants - the position of stylist for District Three’s male tribute in 74th Hunger Games. 

- tbh adrasteia is only seneca crane’s sister because i couldn’t think of a suitable last name for her lmao. i think i’d actually prefer her to be unattached to any major canon players. however, his death is a good motivation for her to join the rebellion, so we’ll see. she’s got a bit of the capitol fashion thing going too, with soft pink hair and diamond-effect skin on her face and shoulders -

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also bonus hunger games content: another oc, Sarsaparilla Verran, from District Eleven, fifteen and alone when she goes into the Games. An orphan, her siblings lost to the Community Home system years ago, her relatives dead or uncaring. So, Rilla is a wee lonely bab tbh. she did not want this, unlike most of my other hg ocs, and she’s not excited for weeks of murder. she just wants her family back, but since that isn’t possible, she’ll build a new family instead. and uuhhhhh,  spoiler alert, she dies before she can have this ://///

and my hunger games aus - a canon divergence where katniss joins the careers instead of peeta, her desire to go home to her family outweighing her reactive hate for the concept of training/volunteering to kill other teens, and a fem!Haymitch au where she’s a little wiser to the dark side of the capitol before she commits acts of rebellion (she still rebels anyway tho, just smarter).

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Riverdale:

Cat Cooper: (middle child of Alice and Hal Cooper) Cat Cooper (17) is the black sheep of the Cooper family. Her piercings, brightly dyed hair and connections to the Southside Serpents make her the odd one out among her sisters and constantly at odds with Alice Cooper. Cat’s life is occupied with her Serpent friends, work at a local coffee shop, and training - martial arts, supplemented with cross country, gymnastics and swimming. Until her older sister is shipped off to places unknown and her baby sister starts getting caught up in murder investigation with the absent Serpent heir... 

- haven’t decided between Catelyn or Catherine for Cat’s full name lmao. she used to be Kit, actually, but I changed it cos i prefer Kit to solely be my divergent oc (kit serafim). Cat is an ADHD disaster who loves her sisters and her friends and wants to get the hell out of Riverdale on a sports scholarship (she does either boxing or karate mainly, need to figure that bit out) -

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Georgie Andrews: (child of Mary and Fred Andrews)

Georgie likes soft drinks, cheerleading, and hanging out with the Blossom twins and Polly Cooper, their closest friends and a welcome distraction from their own problems. After Polly and Jason vanish, Georgie’s support system is almost gone, and they has to deal with everything they’ve been bottling up, just in time for Fred Andrews to get shot.

- also just angst ngl.  so georgie’s gender is basically ???, they enjoy cheerleading and not much else. they spend half their time dealing with depression, by trying to ignore stressful/hard topics and focus on the good side of everything. this isn’t a great long-term coping mechanism and has the fun side effect of pissing of the people around him when she seems unable to be serious or empathetic to someone else's pain (bcs she’s too busy deflecting for the sake of her own fragile mental health), so it gets fun when fred is shot and archie starts getting in too deep with the lodges -

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Sera Thornstone: (parents ???) Southside Serpent. Going to the Riverdale Community College and running errands for FP Jones. And secretly meeting up with her Ghoulie lover down by the Sweetwater where nobody goes. 

- everything about sera is vague and undecided lmao. but she has a ghoulie gf/bf/nbf? and they’re hiding that they were down by the river on the 4th of july, cos a serpent is an immediate suspect. going to community college to work on getting general credits before saving up for fancy school for law or journalism. the aes isn’t entirely accurate cos sera’s built from the remains of another serpent oc who i scrapped (she does have a baseball bat tho) -

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and honourable mentions to jen johnson and octavia blossom-murphy, my other riverdale ocs who actually have content, plus an in-development unnamed oc who gets adopted from the soqm by the Muggs family and growsup with Ethel. and my riverdale role reversal au, which i will never write but have some nice aesthetics for under the tag wip: bughead role reversal au.

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all my mini-aesthetics here are unsourced images/from pinterest. any similarities to other people or characters, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. 

alrighty that’s it. now i have to tag this behemoth argh

#ocapp #ashandrustediron ocs #ashandrustediron edits #i say edits #i mean neatly cropped screenshots #lmao #fandom: harry potter #fandom: the hunger games #fandom: a song of ice and fire #fandom: game of thrones #fandom: riverdale #ashandrustrediron writes #time to tag the ocs who will actually get content later #oc: rosienne lannister #oc: tamlen storm #tam actually has a fic outline unlike most of these other westerosi ocs lol #oc: ara lestrange #oc: asher #no last name bcs volunteers from two don't have last names #they belong to the capitol and their district #<- fun fact about that fic i guess #oc: rowan everdeen #oc: adrasteia crane #none of the riverdale ocs will get a tag bcs i already have riverdale oc fic im working on #long post #long post cw #oh and some warnings for the stuff brushed upon in the blurbs i guess #gender dysphoria #violence #child marriage

[callunavulgari]

TOP 25 FICS OF 2019

1. these roads will take you into your own country by @notbecauseofvictories | American Gods | Laura Moon/Mad Sweeney | WIP | 33k

Here’s a joke for you: a Muslim, a zombie, and a leprechaun walk into a bar in Misery, Indiana. No one stares, because no one in the puckered, shitty asshole of Misery, Indiana gives a fuck. The Colts are playing.

Heather Says: So. It’s funny that another of @notbecauseofvictories‘s stories is at the top of my list again this year. Keep in mind this list is sorted by when the fic was read rather than favorites (because that would get real complicated real quick). Clearly there must be something about January. There’s just something about the writing that is easy to slip into, be it a Star Wars fic or a Labyrinth fic or even a fic about Johnny and the Devil. This was lovely and I can’t wait until it’s finished.

2. eighteen wheels on an uphill climb by @honkforhankcon | Detroit: Become Human | Hank/Connor | 91k

Hank is going to die. He’s going to die right here in Kentucky, 53 years old, halfway to broke, and tragically sober. Survived only by a nine-year-old St. Bernard and the 31-year-old twink who delivered the fatal blow.

Heather Says: I don’t think that this is the first DBH fic that I sought out after beating the game, but it is the first that I loved enough to make it to this list. I didn’t think that I would go for a modern au for this fandom, certainly not a modern au wihere Hank is a truck driver and Connor is a sex worker (albeit briefly?) but here I am.

3. Fuck pride (pride only hurts, it never helps) by ImogenGotDrunk | Detroit: Become Human | RK900/Gavin Reed | 41k

After the android uprising, Connor becomes a permanent fixture in the DPD. That’s fine. Gavin can accept that. The dipshit’s more human than he used to be, and a decent detective to boot. Gavin can deal with him being around. What Gavin cannot deal with is Connor’s replica; two inches taller, blue-eyed, and with a mouth that Gavin doesn’t know whether to punch or take between his teeth. The RK900 model has been assigned as his partner for the foreseeable future.

Heather Says: I also never thought that I’d like a fic with Gavin in it. But I got curious about all the Reed900, and well, this fic really won me over. The writing is fantastic, and it softens Gavin while still keeping him believable. Also, well, I like the enemies to lovers thing.

4. Almost Cool by @blacktofade | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 30k

While filming the Yuma Territorial Prison episode, Shane gets bitten by what he thinks is a bat. Spoiler alert: it's not.

Heather Says: This is actually the first thing that I read for this fandom. In fact, this is the fic that got me into Buzzfeed Unsolved in the first place. I’d seen a lot of art and gifs and fics pass my way, but I was only ever slightly interested in what I saw until this fic came through my inbox and piqued my curiosity. 

5. Pride by @astolat | Game of Thrones | Jaime/Brienne/Cersei | 22k

Jaime didn’t understand why Cersei suddenly insisted on trimming his hair and shaving his beard, but he also didn’t care to fight her on it, even though he’d just as soon have kept the beard: it was bitterly cold in the small tower room with its arrow-slits. 

Heather Says: Wowza. This fic was intense. I’ve always loved Jaime and Brienne. I’ve loved them since the second book, which was read at least a few years before I started loving them in the show. Adding Cersei to their dynamic would have probably been almost impossible to pull off if it was anyone else, but @astolat lives to surpass my expectations.

6. Skin and Scales by Ernmark | The Penumbra Podcast | Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla | 18k

The man glares, and this time, Damien is certain it isn’t a trick of the light: those eyes are violet as amethyst. He wears disdain like a second skin–- or, perhaps, like the scales that he is missing. “Lord Arum?”

Heather Says: I was one of those people who skipped through all of the Second Citadel episodes during my first listen through of Penumbra. The stories were good, but the pull of Juno was too great. A couple months after I finished, I went back and listened to everything I didn’t. And let me tell you. Lizard monster. Honorable knight. Bookish girlfriend. Poly. It hit every single button I had and then some. This fic really hit the spot when I ran out of story.

7. someone you like by caela | She-Ra | Adora/Catra | 5k

catwithabat u think ur so hipster but u just look like a lesbian 27m she_ra @catwithabat bc… i’m a lesbian. lmao 5m

Heather Says: Noooot usually a big fan of high school fics. Namely because I’m not in high school anymore and well, after you read so many in your teenage years they sort of lose their luster. This one was phenomenal enough to change my mind.

8. Sands of Time by @tirsynni | Legend of Zelda | Ganondorf/Link | WIP | 98k

Link awakens in the desert with no idea how he got there, to encounter his worst enemy...except it was the King of the Gerudo, not the King of Evil, he faced.

Heather Says: I have seen a lot of really good Link/Ganondorf art over the years, but never really stumbled across a fic that didn’t have judicious amount of non-con involved. But the Breath of the Wild 2 trailer happened, and everybody started drawing really pretty art, so I went looking. And lo and behold, @tirsynni saved the day with this gorgeous time travel/fix-it fic. 

9. killed with kindness by veterization | Persona 5 | Akechi/Akira | 52k

Goro can't quite figure out why so many people keep acting like they're his friend. (Or: the one where the Phantom Thieves decide to know thy enemy, befriend thy enemy, love thy enemy, crush on thy enemy).

Heather Says: I’ve read a couple of veterization’s fics over the years, and to date they have never disappointed me. They published this in June, and I think I clicked on it mostly because I was bored and hadn’t read any good P5 fic yet. This was basically just what the doctor ordered, and I was really happy to find something where Akechi’s story went ever so slightly different.

10. paper thin by @ebonybow | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane/Sara | 9k

Shane’s new neighbors are a morning-sex kind of couple.

Heather Says: So I went into this one knowing very little about how Sara fit into things. I didn’t know she was Shane’s girlfriend. I’d never even seen her, but I clicked because I like poly and I trust the author. I was 100% not disappointed. There’s also another fic with a very similar dynamic here, which is also aces.

11. damn.nation, now available on itunes by @kaikamahine | Good Omens | Aziraphale/Crowley | 11k

When lowly tempt-pusher Amphora (formerly of Stairwell 7B North, before she Fell,) gets the notice that end times are nigh, she gleefully quits her job and cancels her Netflix subscription and takes her place among the legions of hell. This, it turns out, was a bad plan.

Heather Says: Elizabeth may have only written one fic this year, but she made it a damn good one. I’ve always loved her OCs especially, so I was pretty tickled that this is 10k+ of outsider pov. Also, demons! Demons are great! This demon is great! I want like 9 seasons and a movie about Amphora, just saying.

12. The Dragon and Her Wolves by hapakitsune | Game of Thrones | Jon/Sansa/Daenarys | 60k

When the truth of Jon's birthright is revealed, control of the North and Daenerys's claim to the Iron Throne are both called into question. To preserve their tenuous alliance and secure her rule, Daenerys puts aside her personal feelings to arrange a marriage of political convenience between Jon and Sansa Stark.

Heather Says: What do you mean season 8 didn’t exist and the show totally ended with a three way relationship between the two most powerful women in Westeros and Jon Snow? Never been a big fan of Jon/Sansa before this, but this is another of those writers that I would literally trust if they wrote a fic about a fork and a spoon.

13. never tell me the odds by @wildehacked | Wolf 359 | Eiffel/Hera | 9k

“I tried Star Wars," he says, adjusting the phone under his neck, "and it was way underwhelming.”

A shaky breath from her end. “Well, where did you start?”

Heather Says: I don’t remember which of @wildehacked‘s fandoms I started reading first. Most recently it’s been The Magnus Archives (more on this later). The point is, they’d written Wolf 359 fic and it had Hera and Eiffel and it was literally everything that I’ve been looking for since the series ended.

14. Find Me Somebody by raiining | Good Omens | Warlock/Adam Young | 11k

“You left me,” he said. “You both left me, for him. And I can’t even blame you, because I’d have left me for him too.”

Heather Says: There was an Art. The art was lovely. So I went looking, because that’s what I do when faced with beautiful art depicting a rare pairing. And I found the holy grail. Like, possibly my favorite Good Omens fic? Ever? 

15. flirting with fire by @brawlite | Stranger Things | Billy/Steve | WIP | 7k

Steve's a cop, Billy's a firefighter. It's not a grudge, it's just a regular old small town rivalry.

Heather Says: Okay so brawlite has written a lot of great stuff this year (more on that later), but I read this in bed at the beach house this August while I was reeling from both a horrible sunburn and like seven hours of mild to moderate day-drinking while everyone else was still throwing back shots right outside my bedroom door. Jaws was playing on the tv and I wasn’t even paying attention to it, because THIS. Long story short, I’ve been thirsty for more ever since.

16. gold, when you find me by mmtion | The Flash | Iris/Barry | 53k

It's not that Iris hates The Flash, per say - more that she hates writing about The Streak in a weekly, pun-heavy comic based on The Flash.

Heather Says: I never would have thought that a canon pairing would make it to my Top 25 list, but here we are. I like Iris/Barry a lot better when they don’t grow up together and spend a lot of time playing the Superman game, apparently. Also, this was really well-written, and sexual tension has never been something I’ve felt from Barry and Iris, but I felt it in this fic. Just. Damn.

17. never gets old by @brawlite & @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger| Stranger Things | Billy/Steve | 78k

Falling in love with a cam boy named KingSteve isn't the smartest thing Billy Hargrove has ever done, nor is it the most healthy -- but the good choice is rarely ever the fun choice, and Billy is all about living life fast and loose.

Heather Says: Told you I’d come back to it. brawlite and toastranger are a fantastic team. last year was cherry pie and under the covers, this year it’s camboys and cop/firefighter dynamics. Also, I have a really strange fascination with fics where a character has an instragram. It’s really, incredibly strange. Also also, every time I see this fic title I get that one Discovery Channel song stuck in my head. And no, it probably isn’t the one you’re thinking.

18. ways to save the world by @wildehacked | The Magnus Archives | Martin Blackwood/Jon Sims | 19k

“I left you,” Martin says softly.

Heather Says: And we’re back at wildehacked too! The Magnus Archives was a thing that happened to me. This is I think the first fic I read for it while listening, and it was so very close to what we got in canon. I think when it comes down to it though, I still prefer this fic, even if the ending of this season was pretty fantastic.

19. The Denial Twist by beethechange | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 35k

“This is kind of surreal,” Shane says, taking a sip of his tea. It’s piping hot and delicious, except it tastes like hot chocolate and not like tea at all. “Sort of—Wonka-esque, right? Or Alice in Wonderland.”

Heather Says: While the vampire one is my favorite both because it is excellent and because it was my first, this one was bizarre and sexy and also I read it like only a month or so ago! The dancing was my favorite part, but having dreams to work with made this story fantastically interesting and I loved every second of it.

20. silver in our lungs by taywen | Spinning Silver | Miryem/The Staryk Lord | 4k

The marks had been with Miryem for as long as she could remember. There were a number of them, all the same shade, following one after the other around her left wrist. They were pale as old scars, though they felt no different from the rest of her skin, and her mother claimed that Miryem had been born with them.

Heather Says: I really like soulmate aus. There’s so many different ways to twist them and the way they can sometimes change the dynamic entirely and other times not change them at all is just fascinating. I’ve been hoping there would be more Spinning Silver content on ao3 and running into this while I was trying to decide what I wanted to do for yuletide was a real treat.

21. you got me begging, begging, i'm on my knees by plalligator | The Queen’s Thief | Attolia/Eugenides/Costis | 5k

Costis has a particularly enlightening evening. (or, that struggle when you're a guard who's in love with your rulers and it turns out you would kind of like it if they bossed you around a little)

Heather Says: I accidentally re-read the King of Attolia and it made me consider ships I had perhaps not previously considered. This was really lovely and just steamy enough.

22. something more alive than silence by pageleaf | The Queen’s Thief | Attolia/Eugenides/Costis | 21k

It was a good thing that six months after the king had promised to halve the guard, he still hadn’t done it, because since then, there had been two attempts on the king’s life.

Heather Says: I want to only type the words AGONIZED NOISES to describe this fic because that’s basically my headspace when I get 21k of a shiny new ot3, but I mean. Really. This is super good and maybe my favorite yet? Why didn’t I start reading this fandom when I first read the books?

23. Timing it Right by DragonBandit | The Bright Sessions | Mark/Damien | 14k

The dragon chooses, Mark knows that as well as any boy born in a weyr. He'd never considered what that would mean if the dragon picked someone you hated. He's starting to think that was a mistake.

Damien's gold rises at Whitney. Mark tries to make things right.

Heather Says: This should actually be somewhere back in March, but I apparently closed out of the tab at some point. I never really got into Pern much. I have the first three books, but got most of the way through the first one a long time ago and then never picked it back up. I didn’t think I would like this, mostly because of the fact that I hadn’t gotten into the books, but was surprised to find that I absolutely loved it.

24. Keep It In Your Sights Now by LuckyDiceKirby | Shades of Magic | Lila/Kell/Holland | 9k

Holland travels with Lila and Kell. Somewhere along the way, they reach an equilibrium.

Heather Says: I love the new things I’ve discovered during my yuletide trompings. I don’t think I ever actually considered this pairing when I first read the books, but I am just so enamored with the idea of the three of them together. Like, why did I not realize that potential back then? This was lovely, and I loved it, and I want so much more out of this pairing than what ao3 has to offer me.

25. Charioteer by petrichoral | The Queen’s Thief | Gen & Costis | 13k

Captured in battle and stuck in the Mede capital, Costis has given up all hope of seeing his country again. But Eugenides has a habit of turning up where he's least expected.

Heather Says: Technically this shouldn’t be on here because I only read it today, but it was really wonderful and so canon typical. Gen and Costis were perfect in it, Irene was perfect in it. Everyone was perfect and nothing hurts.

#heather says what #2019 #memes #new year's memes #top 25 #long post #the queen's thief #shades of magic #buzzfeed unsolved #the bright sessions #spinning silver #the magnus archives #stranger things #the flash #good omens #wolf 359 #game of thrones #persona 5 #legend of zelda #the penumbra podcast #she ra #dbh #american gods #serious apologies for the length of the post guys #i tried to keep it shortish #recommendations

[eurusholmmes]

Be There When I Need You | J.M.

I have been attracted to older actors literally since I was 13 years old, and finding out that Iain Glenn existed did me absolutely no favors. Please enjoy this one shot, and love Jorah Mormont just as I do. 

Prompt: Could u do a Jorah Mormont x reader where the reader sacrifices herself during a battle to save him ( she’s a total badass)? Loads of angst please and thank you!

Female Reader. This is the longest fic I’ve written in a while, and I’ve also never seen GoT s8!!! I worked really hard on this. Please let me know what you think!

Please go follow my main blog @morganas-pendragons where I will eventually be writing more GoT content!

Tagging @orderoftheflamingflamingos because I know you love Jorah 

Living in the North as a girl who was born and bred in the South was no easy feat. Your father was an expert tradesman who often found himself at the Bear Islands where he very easily befriended Lord Mormont, who often made the trades for needed supplies much easier. 

You weren’t supposed to meet his son Jorah quite yet, but you did. He was standing tall at his fathers side, no older then fifteen years old, and you admired just how regal he looked standing there. Absolutely divine. It was hard not to marvel at the strong, handsome features of the heir to the Bear Islands, but what you were unaware of is how he gazed at you. The daughter to another Lord of a much smaller house, soon to be wed to keep the trade routes and exchanges successful and plentiful for the following years.

  “My Lord, allow me the pleasure of introducing my daughter, Y/N Y/L/N to your son.” 

Jorah attempted to hide his fascination of you behind a smile and the gentlest press of lips against the back of your hand. “My Lady,” He greeted. “I believe we have quite a future ahead of us.” 

Given that your land was not that far from that of the Islands, your father requested that you stay behind to learn the art of swordplay with Jorah. He was the most talented swordsman of his age until you came around and beat him at his own game. Women were not meant for battle, but marrying a man like Jorah Mormont would be a whole other war to face. 

  “Is that how you do it, Ser?” You mused as you lightly pressed the dull edge of your training blade against his throat, knee pinning his chest to the ground as he laid flat on his back. You had often taken advantage of the art of seduction to catch him off guard, and it never failed you. 

  “I’m not a knight yet, Y/N.” 

His pupils dilated as you bent down and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. It was a daring move, sure, but over the time you’d been living inside the castle with the Mormonts you had never dared to venture further then holding his hand. 

   “When we wed, I will move all the Heavens above to ensure you receive your knighthood. There’s no one more deserving of it.” 

Your relationship evolved over the next few years. Jorah preferred to remain intimate behind closed doors - taking to holding hands and soft, desperate gazes across the rooms when you both occupied them. He was well respected by people, worthy of their love, and you were greatly looking forward to when you ruled the Islands together. 

What you weren’t anticipating was those three dreaded words. The ones you very rarely said with your lips and instead said with your actions. You didn’t want to love him, but you did, and the very thought of it absolutely terrified you. Sent dread down to your very core - because you knew what would happen next. 

  “I love you.” Warm hands, gentle caresses against the apples of your cheeks in the light of the fire blazing in his chambers. The two of you had retired sometime ago after the wedding preparations for the day had been finished, and Jorah wanted nothing more then to cradle you close and disappear from the world with you. 

  “Jorah-” 

  “I do. I have loved you and I will never stop loving you.” His hand travelled down the curve of your arm until it wrapped around your hip, urging you close enough that you could feel the crevices of his body against your own. You had always fit well together, like two missing pieces of a puzzle. 

  “Don’t fall any deeper in love with me.” You whispered. You spread your fingers out over his heart and lifted your head just enough to meet his gaze. Soft and warm, just like the rest of him, with his very clear adoration of you evident in the blues of his eyes. 

  “Why?” 

  “Because you won’t be there when I need you.” 

And just as you suspected, news arrived on the day after your wedding that Jorah had been involved in a slavery ring and had been caught by Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell. 

He had fled Westeros with only a note and a wedding ring left in the crevices of your bed with the intent of you finding it. You took his note in your hands and read his poor explanation as to why he’d been forced to hide such a treasonous act from his wife, of all people, and how he promised to be with you again when the time came for him to be pardoned. 

Bitterness kills. Bitterness kills. Bitterness kills. 

But forgiveness heals, and there was no possibility of holding a grudge against Jorah for as many years as your heart would’ve desired. You eventually forgave but you had no intentions of forgetting anything that had occurred. 

You became Queen of the Bear Islands after Jorah was exiled. Years passed and you ruled better then you would’ve anticipated, but the ring around your neck was a constant reminder of the man you’d loved and the man you’d lost. 

That was until Daenerys Targaryen arrived and the threat of the Night King loomed over your heads. Forced to fight with the North for the safety of Westeros, you left your council in charge and travelled to Winterfell for the battle against the Wights. 

You weren’t expecting what you saw waiting at the front gates. 

  “Khaleesi, if I may-” Daenerys laid her hand on Jorahs arm as she watched a horse with a single rider come into view further down the road, eyes softening as she recognized your form that sat on top of it. She had been the one to keep in contact with you about Jorah since he’d mentioned leaving a wife to rule the Bear Islands, but he’d never spoken more than that. You were too precious a memory. 

  “I believe someone has come to see you, Ser.” 

Jorahs eyes followed the stride of the horse until it skidded to a stop before him, and the breath dissipated in his lungs when he realized it was you sitting atop of it. He half expected you to berate him, to scold him for leaving you behind and to drive your fists into his body until his skin was streaked in black, blue and purple. 

He had tried so hard to forget about you. Forget the way your eyes lit up when he entered a room, or the way your hands felt when they traveled his body. The curve of your smile and the way your body felt beneath his hands. The way you showed no fear in the face of death, or how well you held yourself in battle. But he could not forget how deeply you loved him. The way you always whispered sweet nothings in the dead of night about how good a man he was and how honorable he’d become. How when he woke up from nightmares you’d already be sitting at his side and would curl a single strand of hair behind his ear and sing Jenny of Oldstones to lull him to sleep. 

How he’d left you with nothing but a ring to remember him by. 

  “Don’t fall in love with me, Jorah.” 

  “Why?” 

  “Because then you won’t be there when I need you.” 

Silence pierced the air as you dismounted and allowed one of the Unsullied to take your horse to the stables before you turned to greet Daenerys and Jorah. He stood at her side, hands behind his back and head bowed so he would not have to meet the coldness of your stare. 

Daenerys, however, saw no bitterness for the man beside her. The same man who had vowed his sword and his life to her cause, and had hidden the memory of the woman he loved deep within his heart so he would not be forced to revisit the pain of leaving her behind.  

  “Your Grace, it is a pleasure to finally meet you face to face.” Daenerys smiled and held up a hand, motioning to Jorah with a flick of her head. She very clearly was ready to leave the two of you alone for much needed reconciliation after years apart. 

  “The pleasure is all mine, My Lady. If you’ll excuse me, I have some matters that must be attended to.” Once Daenerys disappeared from view, you moved forward and extended your hand just enough to unlace Jorahs from where they trembled behind his back. Your fingers trailed down the furs that lined his arms until they linked with his own, and he stared down in disbelief before you lifted his chin just high enough to meet his eyes. 

  “Oh.” Oh indeed. “Jorah Mormont, you insufferable man.. Never has a woman missed her husband as I have missed you.” Your chest constricted painfully when you heard the way his breathing hitched and saw the tears that formed in his eyes. 

  “I remain undeserving-” 

  “Never has there been a man more deserving of my love.” You cradled his face in your hands and pressed the ghost of a kiss against the curve of his mouth just as you had done all those years ago on the training grounds. “A man more honorable, or more loyal.” Your lips trailed until they hovered over his own just close enough to feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. “No one I have loved more other then you.” 

He claimed you with his kiss. It’s difficult to preserve your emotions in front of Winterfells gates and not let him take you right there, but there had never been a time in your life when you had been so touched at how gentle he was. Years have passed since you had done this - allowing the man you love to lay his claim to you with his mouth and the slow caress of your tongue against his own. Jorah hoped you couldn’t hear the way his heart thundered when you tangled your fingers through his hair and wound them tightly enough to pull his face away. 

  “Tell me again.” He breathed. Your eyes narrowed on his lips, the flesh swollen from the intensity of your kiss. His chest was having and his hair untamed by the way you gripped it, but never had there been a time where Jorah Mormont looked so sinful. “Tell me again.” 

  “I love you.” 

No one talked about the way they saw the two of you emerge from the same chambers the following morning. How much more Jorah smiled in Daenerys presence when he knew that you were near, or how your laughter sang in the halls of Winterfell’s keep. 

He took you again the night before the battle. Your head was dazed with the effects of the wine Jaime Lannister had so graciously offered you to drink, and then again, and then again until you’d lost count after five goblets worth. The eldest Lannister was rather intriguing to be around especially when he wove tales of his times in Kings Landing - the Capital of the South - and it made you miss home even more then you had as a young girl. 

But the home you’d come to know since then was burning holes through the back of his skull from across the room, where Tormund Giantsbane made a raucous about how you were his and he should make that known to the suitors who were so clearly drawn to you. 

  “Home.” 

You had just begun to unlace his shirt when he caught your hand in his own, and your brow furrowed in confusion as his eyes fluttered shut. Whatever he was trying to prevent you from seeing beneath the fabric very clearly embarrassed him. “Jorah?” You whispered, fingers dancing along the curve of his jaw. Just the very touch of you set every nerve on fire. 

It had been so long since he'd done this. Had intimately been with a woman, let alone been with you, and you had yet to be made aware of the scars that came with his greyscale. He loathed the kind of man he’d become in his absence from you, so why should he believe you’d love him like this?

  “I don’t want you to see this.” 

  “See what?” 

   “Daenerys did not speak of my greyscale. I was away from her in search of a cure, which I found, and now there are so many-” You wrenched open the laces of his shirt and pushed it over his shoulders, gaze softening at the array of ridged scars that lined his torso. There were so much more then the last time you’d seen him. 

  “Scars?” You lifted your head just enough to brush your lips against the one closest to you, and Jorah trembled beneath your touch as you continued your trek across the valleys and ridges of his chest. “A lot of women think scars are sexy.” 

He was stunned when you flipped your position and were able to straddle him. Your knees locked at his hips and you were hunched over just enough that you were able to brush your lips against his chest, and the groan you emitted was the sexiest thing you’d ever heard. 

Then he said it again, in the midst of desperately trying to control the tears brought upon by your acceptance. 

  “Don’t fall any deeper in love with me, my wife.” 

  “Why?” 

  “Because then you won’t be there when I need you.” 

The sounds of battle raged on around him as he desperately sought out both you and Daenerys. His sight was shrouded in darkness from the ash that rained down from the heavens, corpses lined the Earth at his feet and the smell of blood remained pungent in the air. He didn’t even want to think about what would happen if the blood belonged to you. 

Daenerys had accepted you and Jorah as her sworn shields the same day you’d met her, and after much time spent together, you vowed your service and your life to The Dragon Queen in the halls of Winterfell. You and Jorah had been apart too long and you were adamant that you wouldn’t be separated anytime soon. 

Only the Gods had other plans for you. 

It was just when he found you in the midst of fending off a wight that had been ready to attack Daenerys that the first blade pierced through your armor. Daenerys froze as you stood your ground, gritting your teeth so hard that your ears began to ring. 

Then the next blade came, and the pain followed with it. It began as an ache in your abdomen, and continued on until your entire body felt as if it had been doused in dragon fire. Every cell of your existence was screaming. Your eyes burned and your hands were stained scarlet, but yet here you stood. 

Jorah was paralyzed in his place, and it was right before the last blade pierced you that you desperately screamed his name. Screamed so terrifyingly loud that he was positive you were lost to him. 

 You both had gone and done exactly what you feared the most: You had fallen in love with each other, and now after just getting you back, Jorah Mormont was about to lose the only thing in his life besides Daenerys that had given him a reason to breathe. A reason to wake up in the morning and keep moving. 

  “Hey, hey Y/N,” His voice bordered on the edge of a plea as your eyes fluttered and lifted to gaze at the sky. “We will take you to the Maester at once. Your wounds will heal and we will return to the Bear Islands once Daenerys holds the Iron Throne. I swear it,” Jorah swallowed the knot in his throat as a broken laugh fell from your lips. “Y/N-” 

  “I told you not to fall in love with me, you idiot.” 

  “And I told you I’d never stop loving you.” He curled his fingers through your hair and cradled your head in his hands, focusing on the rise and fall of your chest. It was slowing down now. Your breaths were fewer and fewer with each minute that passed. “Please, Y/N-” 

  “Never has there been another, Ser Jorah Mormont.’’ Tears trekked through the blood that stained your cheeks as he rested his forehead against your own. And for a moment, it was just the two of you, and no one else. There was no war against the Night King, no threat of Death looming overhead, no war of The Queens for the seat on the Iron Throne. It was just the two of you. Only you. “My heart has been yours, and it remains yours-” 

  “I swear it.” 

Daenerys was the one to pull him from his internal hysteria when she saw your eyes go blank and your chest stop moving. Her hand fell to your own that laid limp at your side, and the breath was knocked from her lungs as she recognized the shape of a wedding band even through the ash and blood that stained the metal. 

When Jorah took the ring into his hand and wiped the blood from the metal, he caught sight of the engraving you’d had done only days after the wedding had taken place. He’d never seen it before now, but the sight of it only wounded him more deeply as he cradled your head against his chest. 

I am his and he is mine 

  “From this day,” He held the ring to his lips and kissed it. “Until the end of my days.” 

#Jorah Mormont #Jorah Mormont x Reader #Jorah Mormont x Y/N #Jorah Mormont x You #Daenerys Targaryen #Game of Thrones #GoT #Game of Thrones imagines #Game of Thrones oneshots #Game of Throne fanfiction #Game of Thrones x You #Game of Thrones x Reader

[sayruq]

What do u think twow is going to include? I kept thinking maybe just season 6 and then the rest is season 7 and 8 but from what I know they’ve cut off so much from adwd that I can’t see 7/8 having enough material to be a book

There are 20 POV characters in TWoW:

Sansa- the Vale plotline, though according to the writers she leaves soon. I mean they’re having a feast where the mountain clans can reach them so I’m inclined to agree. The show storyline might happen in the books just without the rape since Sansa will be QITN, she’ll have to be quickly introduced to Northern politics

Davos - finds Rickon, we see unicorns, might go to Castle Black if the Boltons still hold Winterfell if Stannis dies or is defeated

Arya - leaves the Faceless Assassins. Might go to the Riverlands for Nymeria and the Brotherhood without Banners. After all they did follow her mother

Jon - resurrected. Might become king, GRRM did want a fight between direwolves and Ramsay’s hounds so maybe hee’s involved instead of going to Hardhome like some people speculate

Bran - learns more about his powers and the Others but ultimately leaves Bloodraven after the Hodor thing

Arianne - goes to Aegon VI. Strikes up a deal with him that’ll likely involve marriage. They take King’s Landing together

Jon C - dies. Might cause a plague

Asha - maybe she escapes with Theon Stannis if he loses and goes to the Iron Island to restart the kingsmoot because Theon is alive

Theon - goes to the Iron Islands and starts to reclaim himself

Sam - watches Euron destroy Old Town. Maybe he and Sarella realised what the horn he has been carrying can do, maybe they realise as Euron blows it

Aeron - gets sacrificed. I kinda like the idea that he sees the drowned god

Cersei - she goes off after Kevan is found. I’ll be shocked if Cersei doesn’t die in King’s Landing. A bloodbath

Jaime - realises that Brienne was used to lure him, manages to escape the execution, goes to King’s Landing. Unlike most people I think Jaime would be furious Brienne lied to him no matter her reasons. I also think that maybe Jaime kills Cersei to stop Brienne’s execution. I also think that maybe Jaime is forced to witness the second Red Wedding. Honestly I don’t know. Anything could happen

Tyrion caught in between the battle of Meereen. He’s still alive when Daenerys comes back and offers his knowledge to her

Daenerys - becomes the Stallion, kills the Khals, unites the Dothraki. Begins really living up to her fire and blood mantra. Unlike show Daenerys, book Daenerys will crucify the masters, kill their soldiers and lead the Dothraki to sack Yunkai as it was the only Slaver’s Bay city state she did not destroy. Sails for Westeros. Arrives and goes to war with Aegon

Melisandre - either she burns Shireen to resurrect Jon or Stannis comes and she convinces him. I think she’ll get a series of visions that shake her up because she knows they’re running out of time.

Areo - I need to reread AFFC to guess but I really think he’ll die in this book

Victarion - I also think he dies pretty early in this book

Brienne- trauma trauma trauma. She’ll survive but I do think she’ll be present for RW 2.0. I’m one of the few (I think) who actually thinks Lady Stoneheart will be killed by Brienne. Arya has to escape the assassins, travel to the Riverlands, meet her mother and kill her. I feel like Lady Stoneheart dies sooner than that. Maybe because I feel like the set up of RW 2.0 is already there or maybe I’ve read too many theories. 

I also think the Others attack sooner than people realise. Euron just happens to attack the same place where Sam is, can’t be a coincidence esp if the former bloodraven’s student thing is confirmed. I think he went looking for the horn

#song of ice and fire #asoiaf speculation #Anonymous

[mollyraesly]

Time with Wolves--Chapter 15

A/N: Sorry for the long wait!!

Once her midterms were finished, all Sansa wanted to do was leave campus as soon as she could. She boarded her train with such eagerness that the ticket collector seemed a bit concerned. “Are you alright, miss?” the old man had asked, not unkindly. “Yes,” she said with a polite smile. “Just eager to get home.”

“Where’s that?” “Winterfell,” she replied. “Ah, a Northern girl. What’s a lass like you doing so far South?” Sansa let out a sigh, but was saved from having to give an answer by a question from the next customer. She waved goodbye to the man and hurried to find a decent window seat. Throughout the train ride, she tried but failed to distract herself by answering neglected emails on her phone and flipping through the fashion magazines she’d bought; the latest couture couldn’t ease her antsy fidgeting and neither could boring administrative emails. So instead she turned to the window to watch the landscape pass by, her heart beating just a bit faster the further north the train went. When she finally stepped onto the station at Wintertown, the chill in the November air made her shiver. But she was grinning as she watched her breath form small clouds of white and gray wisps. The air felt crisp, like air ought to.  She rolled her suitcase through the crowd, searching for the exit. When she spotted her father waiting for her by one of the brick columns, tears welled in her eyes. Beaming, she hurried toward him. “Father!” Ned swooped Sansa into a strong hug, and in his arms she felt like a young girl again. “I’ve missed you,” Sansa told him, her voice cracking. “I’ve missed you too, little one. It’s not been the same without the whole pack together. But now you’re home, everything is just as it should be.” He kissed the top of her head and took her bags for her, and Sansa was reminded that the world still had true knights. She filled him in on how the travel had gone and on what she thought about her performance on her exams.

Ned did not seem overly concerned about Sansa’s academic performance, for no one put more pressure on her than Sansa did herself to do well in school. “You’ve always been so motivated, Sansa,” Ned said with pride. “I wish that would have passed on to Rickon.”

“Still having trouble?”

“Your mother and I are at Winterfell Middle School every other week,” Ned told her. “To be honest, I think they should give us a parking spot, considering how many kids we’ve sent through.”

By the time they got into his truck, the conversation had turned to the situation back at home. Sansa peppered him with questions so she’d be ready for what awaited her. Arya had already slept off her jet-lag, so she wouldn’t be a complete ghoul. Bran was still tinkering with his wheels to make them work better on snow—so she needed to watch out for puddles everywhere. Rickon was still grounded for setting Mr. Luwin’s pumpkins on fire on Halloween, and Robb had been dodging everyone’s questions phone calls of late so was expected to have some bad news he did not want to share. “And how’s Mom dealing with Thanksgiving prep so far?” Ned gave her a secretive smile. “That bad?” “You are as much needed as you are wanted, daughter mine.” When they arrived home, she heard her siblings before she saw them. The house smelled like dinner—beef stew with peas and onions—and the warmth of the heat engulfed her after the brisk walk from the driveway. “Look who’s here!” Ned called. “Sansa!” “Sansa!” “Sansa!” She was nearly tackled to the ground by Rickon. “You’re home!” Rickon screeched. “I’m home!” Sansa replied with equal enthusiasm. She planted kisses on his face, which made him scowl and her laugh. She then reached out to Bran and all but knocked his wheelchair over. “My genius brother!” she sang. “Oi! What does that make me?” Sansa turned around to find Robb. “My older brother!”  He, too, groaned as she kissed his cheek. “Where’s Arya?” But as she asked, her little sister appeared down the stairs, stomping in bulky combat boots. “Arya!” Sansa sang and threw her arms around her. “Look at you! You cut your hair!” Arya had cut her hair into a short choppy bob that fell just beneath her eyes. “Do you like it?” “I love it,” Sansa replied. She spotted some ink behind Arya’s ear. “Gods, did you get a new tattoo?” “Do you like it?” “I love it!” They all began to speak at once, until Cat called them into the kitchen. Sansa found her mother behind the counter with a somewhat frantic look.  “Sansa!” she exclaimed. “Thank the Gods you’re here.” She forced a meat thermometer into Sansa’s hand. “Here, I need you to check to the roast for me.”

A minute later, Sansa had washed her hands and was wearing one of the aprons she’d soon herself back in high school that had pumpkins and apples patterned all over it. As she was throwing a loaf of bread into the oven to get it nice and warm before serving, Cat scooped her into a hug.

“You grow more beautiful every day,” her mother said.

“You’re just saying that because I’m the only one who helps.” Most of her siblings subscribed to the philosophy of don’t be good at something you don’t want to do.

Cat sighed. “At least the only one who I can trust to help and do the job well. Do you remember when Bran volunteered to bake a cake two years ago?”

Remembering that catastrophe, and Bran’s disbelief that he could understand high-level physics but not how to crack an egg properly, they both broke into giggles that only faded when the fire alarm went off from all the rising steam coming off the oven. Dinner that night was loud and happy, as was Thanksgiving. Sansa peeled potatoes and diced onions till she thought her hands might go numb, but they managed to feed over 25 people—even more than usual, as Gendry and his mother had come, as well as Theon and his sister Yara. And Robb had unexpectedly brought his new and apparently serious girlfriend Jeyne Westerling, about whom none of them had heard anything. “Do you think she’s pregnant?” Arya had asked Sansa when they were sent into the linen closet to grab more napkins. “Arya!” “Her shirt looks a bit roomy. Did you see that puffy part at the belly?” “People dress casual for Thanksgiving,” said Sansa, trying to be nice and set a good example. “It is a holiday about eating.” She looked pointedly at Arya’s too-big leggings ensemble. “But c’mon, didn’t you see that bulge?” Arya goaded. “Old Nan saw that bulge, and she’s past her eighties!” Sansa hissed and then clasped her hand over her mouth in horror at what she’d just said. Arya cackled. “Why would Robb be so stupid to introduce her to everyone on Thanksgiving?” “Maybe he thought it’d be a good buffer? I mean, we can’t exactly ask him, in front of the turkey, can we?” “He’s a moron,” said Arya, looking very much like her birthday had come early. “This will be so fun.” “Oh, Arya, please don’t do anything to Jeyne.” “What about Robb?” “After Jeyne leaves, he’s fair game,” Sansa proclaimed. “But if that girl is knocked up with Robb’s baby, she’s suffered enough.” Arya feigned gagging. “What a Thanksgiving,” she observed with glee. “What a Thanksgiving,” Sansa agreed with a sigh. They didn’t tease Robb too much with Jeyne around, but the teasing was merciless as soon as she left—only stopping when Ned asked to have a private chat with his eldest. “Is Robb gonna get grounded?” Rickon asked. “Worse,” Bran said sagely. “I suspect he’s about to be forced to finally become an adult.” “That sucks,” Rickon observed. “Indeed.” Sansa did the dishes with her mother, who seemed to be taking out her frustrations on the good china. “Watch it, Mom. You’ll break the plate.” Catelyn turned to her oldest daughter. “Sansa, promise me you’ll be smarter than Robb.” Sansa grinned. “Aren’t I always?” She decided to let things cool down at the Stark household and went out the next morning for some Black Friday shopping. Retail therapy had always been Sansa’s preferred method of cheering herself up, pampering herself, or really just spending a Tuesday. She bought a pair of classy drop earrings, a beautiful suit and skirt combination at an upscale designer shop for a fraction of the cost, a gorgeous chess set for Bran, a new pair of mile-high combat boots for Arya that were electric blue and absolutely ridiculous, and some sweet infant onesies with ducks and baby elephants on them—just in case she’d be attending a baby shower in the near future.  Armed with lemonade and a cinnamon sugar pretzel, she left the mall and went to the wolf preservation. Combing her fingers through Ghost’s fur and feeling the warm heavy weight of him against her was exactly what she needed. “You are such a good boy,” she cooed while rubbing behind Ghost’s ears. “You’ll spoil him if you continue on like that,” Mr. Mormont warned. “He could use some spoiling. I don’t see him enough.” “You almost done with the South? When you coming home for good?” Sansa paused a moment before answering. “I’ve applied to law programs all around Westeros. I’m not sure where I’ll be next year.” “You know, Winterfell U has a good law program. No reason to travel the country when you can get a good education in your own backyard.” “Yeah,” she replied, thinking it over. She smiled at Mr. Mormont. “But just think how spoiled Ghost would be then.”

Mr. Mormont rolled his eyes. “You’d think he was a dog they way you treat that beast.” Her time with Ghost lasted for another hour before she needed to head home to help with dinner. She kissed his face, and Ghost silently purred.  “I hate leaving you,” she told him. “You think after a few years I’d be better at it. But no. I still cry every time.” Ghost gave her such a sympathetic look that Sansa felt like he’d really understood her. “Winterfell U does have a good law program,” she murmured under her breath. After dinner, Sansa was losing spectacularly to Rickon and Bran in a game of Mario Party — she always played Princess Peach, Rickon Wario, Bran Yoshi— when Arya barged in. “Wow, Sansa, you still massively suck at this game.” “Oh, quiet!” she hissed. “I’m doing my best.” “And your best is losing to the computer Waluigi.” Sansa pressed pause. “What is it?” “Do you want to go to The Bear and the Maiden Fair with me and Gendry in a bit?” Sansa sighed.  “What?” “Well, I just woke up so early today—“ “Your choice.” “And I’m still tired from last night.” “Your fault for being so helpful.” “And I don’t know if I can stay up that late.” “We’ll get you some caffeine.” “But—“ “Oh, c’mon, Sans. You’re leaving soon, and I won’t see you for months. Come out with us. Just a few drinks.” Sansa bit her lip. “Don’t they card at The Bear and the Maiden Fair?” “Yeah, so?” “Well, last I checked, you were still only 19.” Arya rolled her eyes. “Gendry knows a guy. C’mon, it’ll be fun. There’s going to be dancing.” “I do like dancing,” Sansa mused.

“And you can have an excuse to get dressed up.”

“I do like doing that.”

“And wear your new earrings,” Arya pressed.

“Oh, those are so cute,” Sansa sighed. “And I already told Gendry to pick us up in twenty.” “Minutes?” “No, decades.” Sansa gave her younger sister a frosty look she’d learned from her mother. “Gods, yes, minutes.” Sansa inspected her ensemble of warm gray sweatpants and Robb’s old sweater from high school. “I need to change.” Arya grinned impishly and gestured her head toward the paused screen. “I’ll fill in for you. Maybe you’ll finally win a mini game.” Sansa hurled her controller at Arya, who had the audacity to catch it easily.  As she made her way to the stairs, she heard her sister muttering complaints about her character choice. “Princess Peach is a feminist icon, and I will not hear any differently!” Sansa called as she climbed the stairs. “You can still wear dresses and be powerful!” “I know! I know!” Arya shouted back.  “This is the hill I’m prepared to die on!” Sansa sang. She put on a pair of navy tights, a green plaid skirt, and a matching sweater. The light makeup she’d put on earlier had held up, but Sansa swiped on just a bit more mascara and coated her lips with just a hint of lip stain. Old habits died hard, and she snuck into her parents’ room to spritz on her mother’s perfume. She found her father on the stairs. “Going out?” he asked. She nodded. “Arya wants to go to The Bear and the Maiden Fair.” “Don’t they—“ Ned began, but then he sighed. “I’m sure your sister has a way in all worked out.” He kissed Sansa on the top of her head. “Call if you need a ride home.” “We might be our late. I don’t want to drag you out of bed.” “It won’t be me.” Ned’s eyes glimmered. “Robb will be more than happy to come pick up his sisters and learn the importance of staying sober and being a responsible parent.” She and her father shared a look that was interrupted by Arya hollering her name. “Gendry’s here!” she screeched. “Let’s go!” “I’m being summoned.” Ned smiled. “Have fun, Sansa.” “Thanks, I’ll try.” Sansa should not have been surprised that Arya, who looked even younger than she was, was nevertheless right that she’d have no trouble getting into the bar, but she was still impressed when Arya handed her a lemon drop and a ginger ale. “How?” “I told you. Gendry knows a guy.” “But it’s illegal.” Arya shrugged. “Lommy doesn’t care.” “What’s a Lommy?” Arya motioned for Sansa to grab her drink. “Cheers!” She downed nearly half her beer while Sansa sipped daintily from her drink. “Oh, you can do better than that.” Arya observed. Sansa took a larger sip. “There. Happy?” “Not nearly.” Arya looked to the bar. “Lommy! We are going to need some shots.” “How many?” “Eight.” An hour later, Sansa had very much forgotten how tired she was as she, Arya, and Gendry danced to loud pop music. She couldn’t quite remember how many drinks she’d had, but she knew that Arya and Gendry had had more. Gendry was actually a good dancer, which she had not expected, as he was normally a bit stiff and tough. Maybe it was the fact that Arya was so much shorter than him, and so they had to find inventive ways to dance together.

Sansa was quite happy to stand beside them and dance along. She had gotten quite hoarse from shouting along to the lyrics, but she was grinning like a loon anyway. To her welcome surprise, she’d run into Loras, Margaery’s brother, and his new boyfriend Renly. After another round of shots, they’d all gone back to dancing, and Sansa laughed as the couple cooed over how attractive Gendry was. “He’s called the Bull!” Arya informed them. “For a reason!” “You did good, little Stark,” Loras said. “Very good!” “He did better!” Sansa shouted. “Look how beautiful my sister is! And so talented! And just the best. I’m so proud. Arya, you know I love you, right?” “I love you too!” “Let’s move back to Winterfell,” Sansa said. “I’m so tired of being so far away. Let’s come back—and—and we can be roommates!” “YES!” exclaimed Arya, punching the air.  But no further discussion was had, as a new song started playing—“The Dornishman’s Wife (Remix Version)”— and they all started screeching and stamping to the beat. An hour later, the effects of the alcohol, despite its copious amount, had begun to wear off, and Sansa was starting to feel tired. Loras and Renly had gone to the bathroom over twenty minutes ago and had never returned. Sansa, knowing Margaery, suspected they would not come back. “My feet hurt,” she whined to Arya. “Mine too.” Gendry leaned over to let Arya climb into his back. Sansa frowned. “We shouldn’t have drinked—drank—drunk—hah! grammar! Suck it, English! I know my past participles. I’m a fucking Queen!” “Sansa!” “We should get water.” Gendry nodded and started toward the bar. “We should call Robb,” Sansa announced suddenly. “Robb?” Arya asked. “To take us home. Gendry is too drunk to drive.” “S’ too loud. Won’t hear anything.” Sansa tried to respond, but her brain couldn’t think of any response. “I’ll text him,” Arya said as Gendry returned with water and struggled to make his way onto a barstool. She pulled out her phone, and her whole face scrunched in concentration as she typed. “He’s coming!” She declared after a minute. Sansa cheered.  They sipped their water and discussed the food they wanted to eat to sober up. “Pancakes,” Arya said. “Mmm,” Sansa agreed. “And bacon.” “Yes! And eggs.” “Fries,” Gendry volunteered. “And a cheeseburger.”

“Oh my god, yes, but with bacon.”

“Yes, and pancakes too. On the side.” Both Stark girls agreed that was the best option. “We should go to the Ice Shack,” Arya said. “Rob will take us.” “They have the best milkshakes,” Sansa sighed dreamily. “I’ve never been there,” Gendry said. The next ten minutes were spent by the two sisters trying to remember and describe everything on the menu to him. At last, Arya’s phone vibrated on the bar counter. “He’s here!” “Fries!” Gendry cheered. Sansa pulled on her coat and did her best to walk evenly out of the bar, Gendry and Arya ambling slowly and laughing behind her. They opened the back seat of Robb’s red Mustang and collapsed inside. Sansa fumbled with the handle, and with some muttering was able to fall with some grace into the front passenger seat. The dazed grin on her lips died when she turned to her left and saw that it was not Robb sitting behind the wheel. “Jon?”

#jonsa #jonsa fan fic #jonsa fanfiction #jonsa fan fiction #jon snow #sansa stark #time with wolves #mollyraesly

[ghost24601]

“You’re breaking no oath,” Lord Baelish reassured, the tips of her index finger slipping beneath the Lannister Kingsguard’s chin. To be bound by a life oath --- Vanellope could understand this, to an extent. Her own life was in service of the Many-Faced God, now, and despite the title and rights she held she knew it was just another face. In the end, when she needed to, she’d return to The House of Black and White and sip from their fountain, allow her visage to turn to the Wall of Faces. Many years down the line someone would see through her eyes and trade a life for a life with her own lifeless hands.

But that wasn’t any time soon, and instead of pondering the ways of her God she turned the hazel hues of William Lannister to face her own icy blues. She could see the conflict clashing behind them, the sound of steel ringing steel coming from the trepidation of his gaze, but her own didn’t falter. Instead the slightest of smirks tipped the corner of her lips and she drew back her finger. Whatever pace had brought him to her chambers had faltered the moment she answered the door, she noted the glint of sweat shimmering at his hairline. They had been chasing the idea back and forth for a while now, his obvious interest in her more than just rumor to the Master of Whispers. It was her job to know gossip, even if the gossip included herself and had nothing at all to do with the Realm.

In earnest, she had played along with him. Attention was not hard for Lord Baelish to garner, not with her reputation or her mannerisms, or her very insistence that she remain titled but not a Lady --- but his attention felt more calm, natural ... wary. He was afraid of his interest in her, both for his Sacred Oath to the Crown and The Seven and for the true nature of her person. William had known how dangerous she was, but the idea was only reinforced when he caught her removing a face before she sank her dagger into the belly of a political enemy. Caught, being the loose term ... more like allowed. And while the stories of the Faceless Men were little more than rumors in Westeros, any well-traveled merchant or smuggler could verify the validity of their claim with stories that had just enough detail to be true. 

“I am,” Will breathed, holding her gaze for another moment before casting his eyes downward toward their feet. He was sparse of his armor, obvious that his late night visit was of his own business and not the Crown’s, and for a brief moment Vanellope considered how infrequently she had seen him off of his patrol. Their King had no love for the Lannisters, that much was true, and despite William’s own childish dreams of protecting the King from an unknown but armored and skilled threat being dashed when he was inducted into the Kingsguard he remained steadfast in his duties. Loyal to a fault, even if it meant guarding Chester Tully while he slept for six or more hours.

“No,” Vanellope craned her neck, shifted herself to focus Will’s eyes back into her own, “You break your oath with No One.”

She assured him in her words, steady and inviting, as she moved two steps back with intention. His hesitation lasted only a moment, and when he entered after the Master of Whispers she was sure to shut the heavy door to her quarters behind him. Immediately he opened his mouth to speak, likely to protest with more dissuaded ideas, but she was already before him, hands cupping his cheeks, tiers against his own.

It was not the first kiss they had shared. The first had been sudden and likely regretted on his behalf, something spoken of perhaps only once since its conception and hopefully forgotten thereafter. But Vanellope did not forget, she seldom did, and instead she reminded him with knowing smirks that it happened as she passed by him on the way to Small Council meetings. He hesitated again, hands unsure of where to settle on her thin frame before one curled fingers into her thick brown hair. Two more steps toward the bed and Vanellope broke their kiss to press him to the cushioned bench at the foot of her mattress, only meeting resistance when the back of his knees found its edge.

The process of peeling her clothes began with her fingers working at the knot securing her shirt over her heart. Will’s eyes were wide and wild, caught between watching the nimble dance of her digits and searching her expression for any indication that this was some kind of jest. The smirk had never quite left Vanellope’s tiers and when she spoke her voice was softer, though still as stern as it always was.

“Take off your clothes, Will.” With the last of her words the knot was free, her shirt peeling slowly from her pale form. She was scarred, years of training with the Faceless Men and the battles that had come thereafter, but the marks shone silvery in whatever moonlight broke through the thin clouds outside and streamed into her bedroom. King’s Landing was always warm, there was always a thicker breeze of warmth that assured nights would be the tiniest bit chilly at worst, but a clear night’s sky illuminated everything perfectly without candle or firelight. Even now she could see his eyes widen, the hard swallow that tracked down his throat, the nervousness wracking his features.

He wasn’t clumsy to peel his shirt away, just hesitant. Before Vanellope began working at her pants she moved to assist him, lifting the hem of his shirt with her hands on his own and tossing it away, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips when his bare chest came exposed. He had muscle to him, a short Lannister but built with the years he spent squiring and training for his position. She bore more scars than he did, but his smooth flesh wasn’t at all unappealing. Instead the Master of Whispers slipped her hands southward, tracing the silhouette of muscle across Will’s stomach as she went, ending at the tie for his pants and giving a stern tug.

Perhaps it was a gasp of surprise that slipped from his tiers, and truly the sound was small, but not at all unwelcome. Vanellope sucked her own short breath in as she pushed down, letting momentum take the rest of his pants away. Ah. She wasn’t at all surprised to see he was already hard, anticipation or fevered fantasy dotting his imagination on his way to her room, but her teeth worried at her lower lip as she considered his bare form, one brow quirking at the sight. He was beautiful. Even through his reddening cheeks and obvious embarrassment he was something to look at, something more to desire. And when her moment of silent appreciation was over Vanellope tugged her own pants down and kicked them away --- both bare for the Gods to witness and the warm air to kiss fervently.

Only a beat passed before Vanellope shifted forward, hands snaking around Will’s neck and lips capturing his once more. This was not the first time she would have a man, not even the fifth or tenth, but it was the first time with someone who had burdened her mind so frequently. Sneaky like one of her brethren, creeping into the corner of her thoughts or catching the side of her eye during banquets or strolls through the hallways. In her own tactful way she had inquired of his past through is brothers, purposely seeming less interested than she had truly been for the sake of saving face. Nobody got to Lord Baelish --- it came with the name, and she refused to meet the same fate that her rat of a father had. Play the game, but play it smart.

His kisses were needy, an obvious desire laden in their heavy nature, pressing hard into her own tiers. Vanellope flashed teeth when she needed breath, pulled at his lower lip before moving her attention to the line of his jaw, to his neck. With his knees already at the bed bench she pushed against him, following him down when he fell back into the cushions and partially onto the feathered bed. She wasted no time in climbing atop him, a feat that mirrored the conquering of a mountain for the weight of their actions. One hand shifted downward, legs settling on either side of his hips. Thick thighs, tense jaw, parted lips, pulled breaths --- small details being recorded into her mind as her fingers found the hard tip of him, moved to feel the length with soft touches turned purposeful grasps. Never too hard, very pointed. Again he gasped, a more obvious sound now, before his eyes rolled closed and his head tipped back. This is nothing.

And yet it felt enticing, more than it had with others. The cadence of his breathing as she moved her hand, the rise and fall of his chest as he changed it with each repeated ministration, his fingers finding her hips and grasping like a soft plea to continue --- more details to remember, more to write into her mind. Her own whispers. Slowly she leaned forward, the tip of her tongue tracing the line of his neck before teeth teased at the lobe of his ear. “Remember, you’re breaking no oath.”

Will’s breath hitched when she moved, the slow press inward, the slight bite of pain that always came when Vanellope allowed herself the pleasure of a man’s company. For a moment they both held their breath, the slow settle downward, the slight motion of her hips as she adjusted ... and then the sudden sensation of yes, this is right --- when she began moving they breathed out together, his shaky and verging on the softest of sighs and her own a sharp exhale. Instantaneous tingles shot up the column of her spine leaving a wake of goose-flesh in their path, the finer hairs on the back of her neck and arms standing on end and at as much attention as William Lannister afforded beneath her. His fingers jerked into the flesh of her hips, tightening before he realized he might squeeze too hard (or so he might imagine) and releasing yet again, and for the first time since Vanellope had touch him at all, he opened his eyes.

She was sure it was a sight for him, the woman he had been eyeing for so long was here, exposed and in control, her own expression mimicking the parted tiers and dozy eyes of a woman ramping herself up. A hand shifted from her waist to her stomach, fingers splaying over the array of scars before moving upward still to trace the figure of her. And for all of the surprise, the hesitation of even coming to visit her in the dead of the summer night, he was quick to find himself. Just as his breath had formed its own cadence so too did their hips, a synchronized rhythm of give and take that matched with the sudden gasps of air and soft sounds that spilled from either of their mouths on a clashing push and pull.

When he tried to pry himself up, to shift them even the slightest, Vanellope pressed her hands into his chest and insisted his form stay right there, pinned half to the feather bed and half on the bed bench. Control --- she had a hard time surrendering it in any personal duty, and while she shared a healthy respect for her King she even displayed her own sense of independent control. Confusion crossed Will’s expression for a moment, dispersing the moment he spied the cock of Vanellope’s brow and the subsequent groan to follow. This was the game, and so his fingers found her hips again and decidedly did not release when he felt they pressed too hard.

Her own nails dug themselves against the smooth flesh of his chest. Whatever soft chill the night had offered before was too heavy now, a voyeuristic participant in the formation of moisture across the length of her back. Small beads that smudged whenever Will moved his hand to get a better grip through their dance. And as moments passed, as her own breathing came more ragged, she found her ears more keen on the sounds that sputtered from him: a mixture of mewls he denied full volume to surprised groans that were entirely out of his control to suppress.

They must have appeared as something beautiful to any eyes that would have been lucky enough to pry: a silhouette of a sparrow astride a golden lion, an alluring symphony of birdsong accompanying the almost-purr of a mighty predator.

An oath broken to No One.

#c: vanellope von schweetz #au: vanellope baelish #vanellope:will #vanellope:will 01

[crowfoodsdaughter-blog]

Shade of the Evening Tree... I would bet money it does this.

The Shade of the Evening Tree... it’s the Essosi version of the Weirwood except inversed in a dark and creepy kind of way. Our writer loves to use symbolism and literary devices to drop clues from time to time...something he does well and does often. There have been many inversions and parallels drawn between the Essosi Shade of the Evening tree and the Westerosi Weirwood noted by readers throughout the fandom.  Today we are going to discuss a possible connection between these two trees and speculate on the enigmatic oily black stones peppered throughout the ASOIAF mythos and worldbuilding.  Before we get started I need to disclose that spoilers from the Forsaken and Arianne chapters will be discussed.  Now let’s get started.

Blackwood / Weirwood

You don’t have to look hard to see the what our writer is doing with these two magical trees.  One only has to look at how the two are described.  We have white trees with red leaves and black trees with blue leaves; this seems ostensibly contradicting and opposing at first glance from a sheer aesthetic point of view.  There are however some striking similarities as both trees are magical and have the potential to both extend life and provide visions.

What has especially captured the attention of the fandom is how our author has chosen to describe the tasting experience of the two trees vision inducing byproducts. There is an eerie similarity that cannot be denied.  For example, here we have Danny ingesting Shade of the Evening:

“The first sip tasted like ink and spoiled meat, foul, but when she swallowed it seemed to come to life within her. She could feel tendrils spreading through her chest, like fingers of fire coiling around her heart, and on her tongue was a taste like honey and anise and cream, like mother’s milk and Drogo’s seed, like red meat and hot blood and molten gold. It was all the tastes she had ever known, and none of them””

And now Bran with weirwood paste:

“The first spoonful was the hardest to get down.  He almost retched it right back up. The second tasted better. The third was almost sweet. The rest he spooned up eagerly. Why had he thought that it was bitter? It tasted of honey, of new-fallen snow, of pepper and cinnamon and the last kiss his mother ever gave him.”

Interestingly, in addition to there being vision inducing trees located in Essos, there was also once a race of small, shy forest folk called woods walkers or Ifequevron who once inhabited the Essosi mainland. 

Immediately south of Ib itself, a densely wooded region that had formerly been the home of a small, shy forest folk. Some say that the Ibbenese extinguished this gentle race, whilst others believe they went into hiding in the deeper woods or fled to other lands. The Dothraki still call the great forest along the northern coast the Kingdom of the Ifequevron, the name by which they knew the vanished forest-dwellers. The fabled Sea Snake, Corlys Velaryon, Lord of the Tides, was the first Westerosi to visit these woods. After his return from the Thousand Islands, he wrote of carved trees, haunted grottoes, and strange silences.  A later traveler, the merchant-adventurer Bryan of Oldtown, captain of the cog Spearshaker, provided an account of his own journey across the Shivering Sea. He reported that the Dothraki name for the lost people meant “those who walk in the woods.”  

TWOIAF further goes on to hint that the Dothraki horselords shunned the forests either from reverence for vanished wood walkers, or because they feared their powers and Corlys Velaryon even reported finding ‘carved trees’ in their forests. Another hint we have of a forgotten CotF-type presence can be found in the secretive peoples of the great and holy Isle of Leng. A people who are known for their large golden eyes, keen eyesight/night vision and their subterranean gods known as the ‘old ones’ lurking beneath the earth. This bit of information we have of the people of Leng has caused speculation of a possible mixture of bloodlines between the natives and the CotF in the ancient past.  Knowing there was a CotF-type presence in Essos, it is quite possible the black barked relative of the weirwood was a part of that magic from years gone by.

 “It will have turned to stone”

So we can see a possibility that the white barked trees of Westeros and the black barked trees of Essos could be lighter and darker versions of one another so to speak.  Now this is where it gets interesting: We know the weirwood petrifies when it dies, pretty simple to comprehend, the trees don't rot they just turn to stone...

 “For a thousand years it has not shown a leaf. In another thousand it will have turned to stone, the maesters say. Weirwoods never rot.”

That was some Tytos Blackwood wisdom for you there. Yes, a guy named Blackwood gave us that little nugget.  Knowing the weirwood turns to stone, if the trees are somehow relatives of each other the same logic could likely apply to the darker version of this tree. Basically, if the white stuff petrifies then the black stuff does too.  So, imagine for a moment what black wood actually becomes when it is petrified…it becomes black stone.

Let’s continue this train of thought and ponder the most mentioned relic of black stone we have in the series, the Seastone chair.  As I mentioned in the beginning, our writer likes to use some symbolism every now and then to drop clues…

Then she saw it: an uprooted tree, huge and dark, coming straight at them. A tangle of roots and limbs poked up out of the water as it came, like the reaching arms of a great kraken.

  “No.” Aeron Damphair did not weigh his words. “Only a godly man may sit the Seastone Chair. The Crow’s Eye worships naught but his own pride.”

Let’s look at the very first time we see someone drink Shade of the evening:

Dany raised the glass to her lips. The first sip tasted like ink and spoiled meat, foul, but when she swallowed it seemed to come to life within her. She could feel tendrils spreading through her chest, like fingers of fire coiling around her heart"

Our writer decided to hide two little hints in our first view of this sorcerous drink, but before Dany actually partakes in the wine of the Warlocks, we are introduced to the grove of shade trees Dany sees outside the HotU.

Long and low, without towers or windows, it coiled like a stone serpent through a grove of black-barked trees whose inky blue leaves made the stuff of the sorcerous drink the Qartheen called shade of the evening. No other buildings stood near. Black tiles covered the palace roof, many fallen or broken; the mortar between the stones was dry and crumbling. She understood now why Xaro Xhoan Daxos called it the Palace of Dust. Even Drogon seemed disquieted by the sight of it. The black dragon hissed, smoke seeping out between his sharp teeth. “Blood of my blood,” Jhogo said in Dothraki, “this is an evil place, a haunt of ghosts and maegi. See how it drinks the morning sun? Let us go before it drinks us as well.” Ser Jorah Mormont came up beside them. “What power can they have if they live in that?” “Heed the wisdom of those who love you best,” said Xaro Xhoan Daxos, lounging inside the palanquin. “Warlocks are bitter creatures who eat dust and drink of shadows.

The wording here is interesting, if you have noticed, the Qartheen warns Dany that the warlocks ‘drink shadows’ and the Dothraki are disquieted by the way the place ‘drinks the morning sun’.  If these words seem familiar, you will notice it is echoed in TWOIAF when Asshai in the shadowlands is described.

“Some say as well that the stone of Asshai has a greasy, unpleasant feel to it, that it seems to drink the light, dimming tapers and torches and hearth fires alike.

Asshai is a haunt of sorcerers known for a ridiculous amount of black oily stone. The city is supposedly made entirely of the stuff and is said to be the size of Volantis, Qarth, King’s Landing, and Oldtown put together.  For some reason Asshai is still much a mystery to maesters and readers alike.  The sheer mass of the materials required tends to rule out most opinions and theories.  What you may find interesting however, is there is a high possibility Asshai was once a very fertile and forested area much like Yeng and Yi Ti.  If you take a glance at a map, you will see that in the past Asshai would have been a part of a forest/jungle fertile that would have stretched from Sothoryos and the Basilisk Isles all the way to Ulthos.

Another thing that I do want to draw your attention to is Ulthos, a land mass just as close to Asshai as any settlement found in Essos. This nearby land mass is a heavily jungled area that is a noticeably distinct color than any of the other forested areas on the map of the known world.  Recently /u/Werthead on Reddit published a tremendous undertaking of his Atlas of Ice and Fire which piqued my interest because the atlas mentions that the jungles of Ulthos are specifically purple-black in coloring on the map.  When I asked for his reference he pointed me to the actual mapmaker Jonathan Roberts who, on his fantastic maps website, mentions that the jungles of Ulthos are in fact meant to be depicted as purple-black in coloring.  I think it is highly possible this was not artistic license and was part of the guidance provided by our writer who commissioned his maps, but who knows, maybe the artist decided it would be good to have a purple-black colored jungle.  The purple part is somewhat confusing, but the black coloring of this tree depot next to Asshai, it has my attention.

Despite Ulthos being extremely close in proximity to Asshai, the possibility exists they were once even closer.  As we have noticed, there are some hints the sea level was lower at some point in the ancient past.  The Thousand Isles, the Neck and the Arm of Dorne are just a few examples.  One detail I would also point to is the artwork for Asshai in TWOIAF.  In the worldbook, it appears Asshai is a half-drowned city.  Again, I’m not sure if the artist just decided that Asshai should be half-drowned in appearance without any guidance, but there is definitely something there.  So not only is it quite possible Asshai was part of a forested and fertile crescent, but there is also the possibility this massive “purple-black” jungle was located closer to Asshai in the ancient past than we realize.

The years pass in their hundreds and their thousands, and what does any man see of life but a few summers, a few winters? We look at mountains and call them eternal, and so they seem … but in the course of time, mountains rise and fall, rivers change their courses, stars fall from the sky, and great cities sink beneath the sea. Even gods die, we think. Everything changes. -Maester Luwin to Bran

I know what you are thinking, if a shade tree were to truly petrify what are the mechanics that would cause it to be oily? If this is the same stuff, it has to be oily or become oily in some form or fashion. Well as it turns out, Shade of the Evening is also described as OILY.

The Crow’s Eye filled two cups with a strange black wine that flowed as thick as honey. “Drink with me, brother. Have a taste of this.” He offered one of the cups to Victarion. The captain took the cup Euron had not offered, sniffed at its contents suspiciously. Seen up close, it looked more blue than black. It was thick and oily, with a smell like rotted flesh. He tried a small swallow, and spit it out at once. “Foul stuff. Do you mean to poison me?”  

Current storyline significance

From here we now have pondered the possibility of what could be the origins for the black oily stone.  Now let’s look at another quote and see what we make of it:

Though Aeron clamped his mouth shut, twisting his head from side to side he fought as best he could, but in the end he had to choke or swallow. The dreams were even worse the second time. He saw the longships of the Ironborn adrift and burning on a boiling blood-red sea. He saw his brother on the Iron Throne again, but Euron was no longer human. He seemed more squid than man, a monster fathered by a kraken of the deep, his face a mass of writhing tentacles.

This last quote is somewhat confusing to some readers as this plainly looks like some straight up Lovecraft monster reference, but remember that Euron is kind of a Shade of the Evening junkie so to speak and Shade of the Evening is basically a brother from another mother to Weirwood paste... and what does weirwood paste do? It weds you to the tree, the writhing tentacles is a greenseer/tree man symbol in Aeron’s dream. See for yourself: 

Your blood makes you a greenseer,” said Lord Brynden. “This will help awaken your gifts and wed you to the trees.” Bran did not want to be married to a tree … but who else would wed a broken boy like him? A thousand eyes, a hundred skins, wisdom deep as the roots of ancient trees. A greenseer. 

  The sight of him still frightened Bran— the weirwood roots snaking in and out of his withered flesh, the mushrooms sprouting from his cheeks, the white wooden worm that grew from the socket where one eye had been. He liked it better when the torches were put out.

So, the Shade of the Evening vision basically showed Aeron what his brother actually is... a terrible man with wisdom as deep as the roots of ancient trees… but we are not done yet.

Let's talk about some hairy men for a minute.  The hairy men were kind of everywhere when you look at the text of TWOIAF at least in central and western Essos.  I noticed that there was once a forest inhabited by these CotF-type woods walkers who came into direct contact with the hairy men and not in the diplomatic kind of way. More in the, I am going to commit genocide, take your land and bleed your resources type of way:  

 The God-Kings of Ib, before their fall, did succeed in conquering and colonizing a huge swathe of northern Essos immediately south of Ib itself, a densely wooded region that had formerly been the home of a small, shy forest folk. Some say that the Ibbenese extinguished this gentle race, whilst others believe they went into hiding in the deeper woods or fled to other lands.

  At its greatest extent, the Ibbenese foothold on Essos was as large as Ib itself and far richer. More and more of the hairy men crossed over from the islands to make their fortunes there, cutting down the trees to put the land under the plow, damming the rivers and streams, mining the hills

It is safe to say the Ibbenese didn't get along well with this forest folk that worshipped the black wood trees.  In fact, it seems like the Ibbenese kind of persecuted them in a sense and cut down a bunch of their trees and the maesters even theorize the Ibbenese caused the woods-walkers extinction.  That’s bad right?

What made my eyes completely bug out of their sockets was this line:

The eunuch drew a parchment from his sleeve. “A kraken has been seen off the Fingers.”  He giggled. “Not a Greyjoy, mind you, a true kraken. It attacked an Ibbenese whaler and pulled it under.

So, a "kraken" has pulled under an Ibbenese whaler...makes sense now doesn't it?  Tree roots can look like the reaching arms of a kraken as our writer has pointed out.  This has caused me to speculate that there indeed might be something under the sea.  I think there might be a good chance there is a network of huge roots, which could be why there is the Greensee/Green sea pun that ravenous reader has pointed out in the Westeros.org forums and explains why Patchface came back from the depths with the gift of prophetic vision.  And here is why… detailed in one of Aeron's Shade of the Evening trips:

“Urri!” he cried. There is no hinge here, no door, no Urri. His brother Urrigon was long dead, yet there he stood. One arm was black and swollen, stinking with maggots, but he was still Urri, still a boy, no older than the day he died.  “You know what waits below the sea, brother?”  “The Drowned God,” Aeron said, “the watery halls.”  Urri shook his head. “Worms... worms await you, Aeron.”

In Aeron's dream, Urri is telling him there is no Drowned God, no watery halls, just worms, worms await him.  From what we have seen in the House of the Undying, shade visions are supposed to be cryptic and somewhat prophetic in nature right?  So, what if there is actually something that looks similar to worms or the reaching arms of a kraken under the sea?  Let’s take a peek:

The way the shadows shifted made it seem as if the walls were moving too. Bran saw great white snakes slithering in and out of the earth around him, and his heart thumped in fear. He wondered if they had blundered into a nest of milk snakes or giant grave worms, soft and pale and squishy.  

  The sight of him still frightened Bran— the weirwood roots snaking in and out of his withered flesh, the mushrooms sprouting from his cheeks, the white wooden worm that grew from the socket where one eye had been.

I guess this means we may actually get to see this play out in the chapters due to whatever Euron is doing at the moment.  According to the Arianne I sample chapter there are ‘krakens’ stirring around the Arm of Dorne being drawn to blood of the current hostilities and our Shade of the Evening drinking Euron has something planned in his upcoming battle with the Redwyne and Hightower fleet.  So yeah maybe there will be an Eldrich Apocalypse of sorts, just not the kind most were expecting.  

Before moving on, we are going to take this idea and look at two cultures in Essos who both fear the sea: The Thousand Isles and the Dothraki.  As we have read, the maesters suggest the Thousand Isles is something of a drowned kingdom that has been reduced to hundreds of scattered islands. Before the Thousand Isles were drowned, it was most likely connected to the dark forests of Mossovy ”.   A place whispered to be the haunt of shapechangers.  Additionally, the Dothraki whom the maesters hint could fear the Ifequevron also have a very real fear the sea and will not even plow the earth. 

Ebony and Weirwood

So, let’s back up for a moment and take a look at ebony. There have been many in the forums who have drawn attention to hints of the relationship between the two sets of trees through the writer’s use of ‘ebony’ and weirwood.  These hints are casually floated in front of our faces in the shape of weirwood and ebony doors seen in both the House of Black and White and the House of the Undying.

In the real-world ebony is a black wood of a few species that is so dense and heavy that it sinks or ‘drowns’ in water. Each time our characters encounter ebony, I’m not sure if they can distinguish one type of black wood from another when it comes certain items. It is kind of a tinge of the unreliable narrator that our writer uses from time to time; just like when Bran sees Jaime and Cersei wrestling naked. He is familiar with wrestling, so they are wrestling.  You see, characters might easily have difficulty categorizing a wood that they have never seen before and are unfamiliar with.  The shade of the evening tree is not seen in Westeros or the Free Cities that we have seen, so far, so what makes us so certain our characters can identify it when they happen across seeing it? Basically, they think they see ebony and so ebony is how it is described. 

“At the top she found a set of carved wooden doors twelve feet high. The left-hand door was made of weirwood pale as bone, the right of gleaming ebony. In their center was a carved moon face; ebony on the weirwood side, weirwood on the ebony. The look of it reminded her somehow of the heart tree in the godswood at Winterfell. The doors are watching me, she thought.”

Here we have ebony and weirwood superimposed and contrasting one another with a carved face that does an excellent job reminding Arya (and the reader) of the heart tree in Winterfell.  Pretty simple symbolism, basically black tree/white tree=heart tree. 

In addition to Arya, Dany experienced a similar door in the House of the Undying: 

To her right, a set of wide wooden doors had been thrown open. They were fashioned of ebony and weirwood, the black and white grains swirling and twisting in strange interwoven patterns. They were very beautiful, yet somehow frightening. The blood of the dragon must not be afraid. 

It seems the writer is trying to describe these doors as an allusion to being made of one wood.  Notice how the wording makes it seem as if they were not mechanically pieced together from two different types of wood with descriptions such as the grains twisting and swirling?  The description itself makes it seem almost as if it is made from the same slab of wood.  This imagery makes a great deal of logic knowing there is a black barked tree with similar qualities to weirwood and were possibly one species at one time before they split in their evolution.  Later, shade drinking Dany is fittingly given further symbolism in Mereen as she is sitting equivalent of an Essosi weirwood throne, an ebony bench.  Also, TWOIAF mentions that the people of Asshai ride around in palanquins made of ebony…hmm... must be an abundance of that stuff somewhere nearby. 

There is also another set of doors that should be mentioned although not as enigmatic. We also have ebony and weirwood doors all the way back in Game of Thrones at the forge of Tobho Mott, our friendly neighborhood Qohorik.  This one is a little trickier, but it gets cleared up in TWOIAF. 

Qohor stands on the river Qhoyne on the western edge of the vast, dark, primordial forest to which she gives her name, the greatest wood in all of Essos.

  The Forest of Qohor also yields up furs and pelts of all kinds, many rare and fine and highly prized, as well as silver, tin, and amber. The vast forest has never been fully explored, according to the maps and scrolls at the Citadel, and it likely conceals many mysteries and wonders at its heart.

  The artisans of Qohor are far famed. Qohorik tapestries, woven primarily by the women and children of the city, are just as fine as those woven in Myr, though less costly. Exquisite (if somewhat disturbing) wood carvings can be bought in Qohor’s market, and the city’s forges have no peer.

We also learn of the God of Qohor, the Black Goat.  A deity that requires daily blood sacrifice, and is frequently mentioned when the Lion of Night is mentioned.

“And many names,” the kindly man had said. “In Qohor he is the Black Goat, in Yi Ti the Lion of Night, in Westeros the Stranger.

  “Warlocks, wizards, alchemists, moonsingers, red priests, black alchemists, necromancers, aeromancers, pyromancers, bloodmages, torturers, inquisitors, poisoners, godswives, night-walkers, shapechangers, worshippers of the Black Goat and the Pale Child and the Lion of Night, all find welcome in Asshai-by-the-Shadow, where nothing is forbidden.”

  Beyond her was a man with a lion’s head seated on a throne, carved of ebony. On the other side of the doors, a huge horse of bronze and iron reared up on two great legs. Farther on she could make out a great stone face, a pale infant with a sword, a shaggy black goat the size of an aurochs, a hooded man leaning on a staff.

Basically, Qohor is known for its special wood being the largest forest in Essos and which is described as not fully explored and primordial.  Additionally, what I am seeing with the Black Goat is a deity that is worshipped in the most heavily forested area in Essos, is a fan of blood sacrifice (like a heart tree) and is often associated with another deity that is depicted in the House of Black and White as carved out of ebony…oh yes, and their worshippers can find refuge in Asshai, go figure.

Also, in Lovecraft mythos, Shub-Niggurath is known as the Black Goat of the Woods.  But wait!! What about all of the Lovecraft references? Isn’t C’thulhu coming for the Redwynes? No, but the trees are.

Lovecraft and the Old Gods

The Lovecraft references peppered throughout the story do seem to focus on some watery stuff going on, but there are other Lovecraft nods that cannot be explained with a watery hall.  These places include Ib, Qohor with its Black Goat, N'Gai with its underground city, and the Sarnori are a few examples.  I believe the Lovecraft references could be, at least in part, referring to Old Gods presence surrounding the Long Night narrative. As you can see…  

Ib:

Ib is mentioned quite a few times in this post pertaining to Huzhor Amai and the destruction of the Ifequevron. Ib is also mentioned in "The Doom that Came to Sarnath", Ib was an ancient civilization destroyed by Sarnath. Interestingly, the Sarnori and the Ibbenese also fought in the ancient past.  

Leng:

As previously mentioned, Leng is also has some possible links to the Old Gods with their golden cat eyes, night vision, subterranean gods and blood sacrifice. Leng is possibly inspired by the Plateau of Leng mentioned in various Lovecraft stories.

The Black Goat:

The Black Goat is of course mentioned above in Lovecraft terms is known as “The Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young", "The Black Goat of the Woods", and "The Lord of the Wood".

Sarnor/Sarnath:

TWOIAF mentions that the Sarnori got into more than a few skirmishes with the Ibbenese and their Long Night hero, Huzor Amai, “wore the pelt of the king of the hairy men" so he may have been in conflict with them or even descended from them. Awhile back, I also read an excellent thread that provided a very reasonable argument that the Lengii may possibly descend from the tall men or proto-tall men also known as the peoples of Sarnor.

N’Gai:

N'Gai's capital Nefer is an underground city located next to the Mossovy forest which is said to be full of shapechangers. Coincidentally, the N’Gai also have a Long Night hero of their own Neferion. In Lovecraft legend, N'Kai is an underground dominion where Tsathoggua is said to sleep.

The Iron Islands:

The Iron Islands are another drowned area with Lovecraft nods and with their own Azor Ahai like figure and black oily stone. The Grey King literally has weirwood in his legend as he slew the pale demonic flesh eating tree Ygg. The Iron islands of course also have various references such as characters named Dagon, and religious mantras such as “what is dead may never die”.

Stygai:

Stygai is a part of the Shadowlands right next door to Asshai which has black oily stone and a Long Night Hero of its own and was most likely fertile and forested in the ancient past. This is possibly inspired by Stygia from the Conan stories (influenced by Lovecraft) It is a city where magic is strong with promises of sorcery and witchcraft for scholars and dabbling warlocks. It is said a dark shadow has been cast along this land for centuries.

The Church of Starry Wisdom:

This church was founded by the Bloodstone Emperor, possibly another version of a Long Night hero such as Azor Ahai. In Lovecraft’s world, the Cult of Starry Wisdom is from "The Haunter of the Dark".  

The Isle Of Toads:

This is a site of a black greasy stone statue, similar to various Lovecraft stories where there are statues of black or greenish stone with aquatic like aspects. The Isle of Toads is located in the same forested/jungled fertile crescent that contains Sothoryos, Yi Ti, Leng and Ulthos.

 In essence, Lovecraft wasn’t just about C’thulhu, he had a whole slew of different Gods with various aspects. The thing that Lovecraft did with many of these deities is refer to them as the "old ones" and the "elder gods". What our author is doing is GRRM is at various Lovecraft lore and carefully throwing these Easter eggs out there because he has his own version of old ones/elder gods… these are the Old Gods… and in his world they are the trees.

GRRM has done everything possible to make the Shade tree an Essosi Weirwood, so if the white stuff petrifies, the black stuff probably does too.

If I had money to bet...I'd place it on the warlock tree taking a note from its Westerosi cousin.

#asoiaf #lovecraft #long night #weirwood #shadeoftheevening #black stone #azor ahai

[justwomenimagines-blog]

A Gift For The Ones They Call “Khaleesi”

REQUEST: Oh oh I have one! Can you please do a Daenerys x reader imagine where the reader is trying to lay low bc she's a Lannister from Westeros in Meereen who left to find Tyrion, but ends up being captured by one of the masters, who sends her as a "gift" to Dany? And Dany is angry of course, because HELLO she's a person not an object. Which somehow ends with something cute n fluffy between the two? (Did any of this even make sense?? lmao sorry if it didn't, I ramble a lot.) thank you!!

Sure thing, baby

daenerys targaryen x reader

Y/N was unafraid, strong, brave but most importantly smart. Once she found out about Tyrion captured by Jorah, she had to what was right. In her head, the name Lannister was not only about the riches and wealth but to her, the lion represented so much more. It was about protecting the pride, her family but she knew she was the only one who would.

The day Y/N set sail was possibly the greatest mistake of her life so far. With her brother nowhere in sight and everyone knowing that she’s a Lannister, it made it impossible to hide from those you know would pay anything for your dead body to be placed on a spike in their town square.

Y/N managed to hide for a few weeks, if even. She wasn't keeping track to be fair. Y/N stole bread and whatever wine she could get her hands on. She did everything she tried to lay low and not cause a scene whilst still trying to find her brother but to no avail. Y/N heard them whisper in the drunken alleyways about her brother, The Hand? Surely, that could not be.

“I heard his mother fucked a troll and gave birth within a week.” Another whisper again. “I heard his brother and sister go at it on their sister’s bed.” The talk was unbearable until Y/N snapped once she heard that “ Tyrion used to rape his sister, ats what i ‘eard!” The laughs, the mockery of a name once held so high that those who spoke badly of it would be executed on sight.

Y/N unsheathed her gold and engraved dagger that Tyrion gave her as a 10th birthday gift and was ready to slice the drunkards throats until a firm hand grasped her once she reached the beggar's neck. A strong brute of a man with burn marks on his face and a scar down his nose. “Send our love to the Mother of Dragons.” The man’s voice came from directly behind Y/N but as she whipped her head to catch a glimpse of him, the brute knocked her out cold.

Daenerys was ready to sail home and reclaim all that was lost to her once she heard a man screaming on shore. “My Queen, a package! A package!” With her guards aimed at the man, she steps off her ship and warily approaches the large package in wood. Once signalling to her men to open it, she finds a girl, no older than herself, beaten and blood splattered everywhere. With a shocked and disgusted look on her face, she bends down to help her up onto the ship with the help of the guards.

“Y/N......” Tyrion whispered yet Daenerys could hear. Y/N, she thought, may you wake up, young Y/N. “It is my sister, my queen. she must have followed me to find me. Stupid girl, always playing the hero.” He muttered whilst Daenerys was entranced with the burn mark left in the shape of...chains.. and wings? “The Great Masters”, she inhaled, “Tyrion, your sister, Y/N, is a gift from the Masters.” Tyrion held a look of neutral displeasure which slowly turned to rage as he flipped off crates into the ocean and punched a guard. “I’ll gut them! Everyone last one! She was the last good one in our family!” With Tyrion being dragged away screaming, Daenerys wrapped a spare cloak around your naked body and asked the guards to move you to the beds below deck.

With at least two days of travel left until the journeys end, Y/N woke from what felt like death. With a pile of clothes laying near to her, she put them on and headed for above deck. Y/N saw tens to hundreds of ships slowly marching along the water and in front of her, a bloody angel. White hair, pale skin, and eyes that could cut a man in half if he stared too long. her black robes matched yours with a slim cut that enhanced every perfect thing about her from her waist to her obvious ascent to royalty. As Y/N slowly moved forward to her direction, she was tackled by what seemed like a dog but ended up being her brother. “Y/N! Thank the maker you’re alive! Thank you!” Y/N opened her mouth to respond but was cut off with a hand to help her up. The Queen, you presume. Y/N bowed in front of her and Daenerys giggled. God, I could listen to that all day. “A friend of My Hand is a friend of mine” she states.

With only a day to go until they reached land, Daenerys had been informing Y/N on all of her recent ongoings, from owning dragons to Daario, something that makes Y/N’s heart sink but also fills with joy. As night time slowly crept in on the pair, Y/N felt a shiver run down her back to which Daenerys responded with cloak being placed around Y/N’s neck. “ Now you’ll be cold!” Y/N sleeply exclaimed as she didn't want Daenerys to freeze to death before she could ask to court her. “ I would freeze before seeing you cold, my dear.” And with that, Y/N’s cheeks ignited and Daenerys full forced chuckled which Y/N felt right through her. “ I see your warming up, Y/N” Daenerys gazed into the side of her face where Y/N’s was still resting, Y/N took her head off her shoulder and lightly punched it  due to her pwn tiredness and that she didn't want to hurt Daenerys, which could’ve been due to the dragons or that she was slowing falling for her. “Y/N” Daenerys whispered,” I know a way in which we could both  be very warm.” Y/N’s cheeks lit up again, “ Dany, I swear if you don't stop I'll-”  “You’ll what?” Daenery’s face was closing in on Y/N and Y/N whispered, “I’ll do this” Y/N placed just a sweet gentle kiss on the others mouth to which slowly became more passionate and lustful. Once they broke away from the kiss, Daenerys audibly gasped and whispered, “ I want you” Y?n becoming more confident  stated, “ I'm all yours”

To that night, Y/N and Daenerys ruled side by side as Queens of the Seven Kingdoms and became the most respected and loved couple that anyone had ever laid eyes upon. Long Live The Queens.

A/N: i definalty made majority of this up so we can all mutally agree that its now an AU where i cant agree whcih season to even put anything in thank u

#daenerys targaryen x reader #daenerys targaryen #Daenerys #game of thrones #got imagine #got x reader

[dorianfiftyshadesof-gray]

Commentary: Game of Thrones 7x05

-i'm exhausted and should be studying but Thrones is screeching at me so I guess I shall watch it. -Imagine if they have killed off Goldfinger *awkward laugh* -JOE DEMPSIE! HE's IN THE INTRO! OH FUCK MAN! GENDRY IS BACK! -Eastwatch looks pretty fancy -yay sexy uncle isn't dead, just puking -Jaime may be hot, but he really isn't the sharpest sword at the blacksmiths; talking of blacksmiths..when are we gonna see Gendry!? -Bronno: "Listen up cunt, until I get my wife and castle you can't neck yourself" -Jaime considering whether it's better to drown or tell his lover/sister about the dragons -Tyrion disapproves -Ben Dan-y telling the troops that what Cersei has told them about her burning shit isn't true but for the past 15 mins, all she has been doing is making barbeque -Things Daeny needs to shut up about: that goddamn wheel and bending knees -gotta love Dickon, honorable lad -listen to Impy for once Dragon Lady, you dumb-dumb -oh no not Dickon! -This is the first time we have seen people bend the knee for Daeny out of fear, not respect or love. "Daeny becoming the villain" theory ship is sailing -haha Sistershagger tells Brothershagger about Olenna dropping the mic on Joffrey -Please start falling out of love with Cersei, Jaime. Sincerely, everyone -Bastard dude gonna pet a dragon oH MY GOD! -Jon Snow *cough* Targaryen *cough* patting the dragon! This is so epic. -The way to Daeny's heart is through her dragons, not a cave Jonny Snowblower -Daeny: "They're beautiful, aren't they"  Jonno: "Not the word I was thinking of"..  Daeny: U fuckin wot m8!?!? -Rastafarian Targaryen catching on to Daavos's slip up lmao -"Ser Daavos gets carried away" nice save bro -JORAH THE EXPLORER IS BACK! I SMELL A LOVE TRIANLGE BREWING!! -still friendzoned tho -it seems Lord Friendzone is also part of the time-travelling gang of Westeros™ -Daeny going in for the..hug -Fuckin "Bran" warging around -them ice zombies are pretty damn close now man -poor Samwell Gamji in the 'shit'adel -yes Sam! standing up for the Starks -Tyrion and Varys: drinking buddies. now that's a show I would watch -hell yeah Jonny Snow knows of his siblings are home -Lannister reunion wat WHAT! -lol just noticed Jorah in the background -WHERE ARE MY DROGONS doesn't want Knows Nothing to go she likey-likes him -Jonno needs to stop going on these stupid-ass decisions -see all the Sansa-haters, she isn't going to betray Jon -I like seeing them hang-out and bickering -damn Lil'Ninja Chick, you can't solve everything with killing -they're already fucking in King's Landing!? Da shit!? -Tyrion and Jaime!!! O H  M Y  G O D ! ! ! my heart stopped -Jaime's gonna cry, Tyrion's gonna cry, I'm gonna cry -when are we gonna see Gendry?? -I have a feeling it's gonna be soon -GEEEENNNNNNDDDDRRRRYYYYY -we all thought he might still be rowing! -I'm freaking out man!! -He looks so different (still want him and Arya to get together) -Davos is such a sweet lad. Talking about sexy-times crab aphrodisacs -Well, this is inconvenient for Dwarfy to show up -go Gendry you absolute dude!! -you know when Cersei is calm, shit's gonna. go. down. -oH ShIt! SHE PREGGERS!! Another incest baby!! -"Never betray me again" oops -Davos: “Just remember you are called Clovis”  Gendry: “Yep no worries”  Meets Jon Snow  Gendry: “HI IM A BARATHEON BASTARD CAN WE BE BEST FRIENDS???” -They chattin like their dad's. They gonna be bros like their dad's. -I love that Gendy instantly believes everything. -are Jon and Daeny trying to flirt?? emphasis on "trying" -Gilly talks about useless shit... useless shit... JON IS TRUEBORN... useless shit... -Sam lost his 15,782 shits -why does Sam have a hipster messenger bag?? -good one you Sam, you were too good for the 'shit'adel -Arya spying Le Creepy Petey -what did they find!?!? -Arya: professional lock-picker apparently -Pedopete spying on Arya who was spying on Pedopete. Spyception -The One Who Has Dragons™ and The One Who Fucks Her Brother™ -Tormund still lusting over Brienne completes me -lol he's meeting the Hound -this season is just a reunion special -Tormund: *growls* -When the entire crew rolls up in their fur coats -I'm guessing this was mostly a set-up episode because next ep we gonna see some crazy shit which is fair. I personally enjoyed it, w got Gendry back who's an absolute lad and some Davos appreciation plus reunions galore. Until next week ya losers

#game of thrones #game of thrones season 7 #got season 7 #got7 #got #game of thrones commentary #jaime lannister #bronn of the blackwater #tyrion lannister #daenerys targaryen #daenerys stormborn #dickon tarly #cersei lannister #olenna tyrell #joffrey baratheon #jon snow #jon targaryen #drogon #bran stark #the three eyed raven #jorah mormont #sam tarly #samwell tarly #lord varys #gendry baratheon #gendry waters #davos seaworth #gilly #rhaegar targaryen #lyanna stark

[boystownbirdie]

LMWTV4U: GOT S7E1

Welcome back to let me watch TV 4 U (LMWTV4U) where I watch TV shows so you don’t have to! If you’re not a GoT-watcher or you just need a review, check out my pre-season-6-GoT primer here or you can just check out the review/recap of the last ep of season 6 here

It’s GoT season 7 y’all- WHO’S EXCITED?

As always, spoiler alert. Also, I’m introducing a new segment of this blog called WHY DOES THIS SCENE EVEN MATTER or (WDTSEM?) to help us decipher when some seemingly unimportant or otherwise boring scenes actually do kind of matter. So watch for that. Now let’s get into it! 

Over in Frey-ville/ Riverlands...

So we open on Walder Frey (aka Argus Filch from Harry Potter) giving a toast to a bunch of his people, all of whom have to wear inexplicably weird hats that seem to serve no purpose. Off the bat we know something is up because Arya Stark, fresh from the face-swapping-assassin-training academy, definitely killed Filch in the last ep of season 6. He’s gathered up all of his hat-wearing friends and family and is like hey guys, here’s some NOT POISONED wine let’s have a toast. It’s pretty obvious it’s Arya doing a really good impersonation of Filch/ wearing his face, especially when he doesn’t even pretend to take a sip of his wine. He’s all, hey remember when we killed all those Stark people, especially the mom and the hottie son, Robb and his preggers wife? That was fun, right? And all the poisoned guys are like yep murder is fun you are correct. Then he’s like too bad you didn’t kill all the Starks cuz one is still alive and…. It’s ME BITCHES. 

And she rips off Filches’ face/body and is like SURPRISE! And because this is the season of the woman, she doesn’t let any of the poor servant girls (who were like 15 years old and all forced to marry Filch) drink any of wine but she’s like, I know this is confusing, because I was just wearing the face and body of your former husband but it’s me, a fellow 15-year old girl and please tell everyone THE NORTH REMEMBERS. (If you’ll recall the Stark fam is from the North and a bunch of them died at the red wedding which was FOREVER AGO)

Later in the ep, we catch up with Arya who is riding around on a horse like a boss when she happens upon ED SHEERAN. SERIOUSLY ED SHEERAN IS IN THIS EPISODE WHY? I DON’T KNOW. And he’s singing a song with some soldier bros, duh. And I guess they’re from the Lannister army (if you’ll recall the Lannisters are the incest twins) because they’re wearing their colors and they’re like ugh King’s Landing (where Queen Pixie Cut aka QPC is currently ruling after blowing up most of the city) is the worst. And Arya is like umm ya it sucks, last time I was there I saw my dad get his head chopped off, BUMMER. She doesn’t say that actually but she does listen to them talk about how they wished they were home with their family instead of fighting for QPC. 

WHY DOES THIS SCENE EVEN MATTER (WDTSEM)? This scene is pretty clearly a setup to get Arya to consider meeting up with her bro (well actually uncle) and sis in Winterfell rather than her current single-minded pursuit of killing QPC. Anyway, the strangest thing about this scene is that one of the bros is like ya my mom always said to be kind to others and they’ll be kind to you and also none of the bros say anything murder-y or even slightly assault-y for that matter toward this young girl traveling alone WHAT SHOW IS THIS? On any other season of GoT this scene would have been a literal bloodbath.

Sidenote: when the opening credits run we FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER only see Westeros rather than both sides of the globe (or is it a globe? Idk. g.r.r.r.r.r. Martin plz advise) cuz our Khween Khaleesi is no longer residing there.

Next, let’s check in up North with Bran and his pal Meera who recently narrowly escaped a zombie attack only to be rescued by his zombie-uncle.

Bran is having a vision, as he is wont to do, of the “Night King” (zombie leader guy) plus thousands of zombies marching toward the non-zombie world. Some of them are even zombie giants which is super spooky. He’s like let’s GTFO and get south of this giant ice wall so they coming a-knocking on the ice-wall-door which, if you’ll recall is manned by all those moody celibate dudes that Bae was briefly murdered by before coming back from the dead. Bae’s friend who is in charge now is like umm new phone who dis cuz IDK what “Brandon Stark” looks like but it’s probably not you. And he and his friend Meera are like we promise, we’re cool and they let them in.

WDTSEM? Bran and Meera’s next stop after passing through TSA security is probably to see his sis and bro at his home, Winterfell. Last time that poor boi was there he was paralyzed, briefly made leader, ousted, forced to watch the whole place burn down and then had to escape before he was killed. So needless to say he’ll be happy to see that it’s not only rebuilt and no longer a torture dungeon, but being ruled by his fam! AND he’s the only one who knows the truth about Bae the R+L=J theory so he needs to drop that bomb on erry’body that basically means that Bae is kind of a rightful ruler and also Khaleesi’s nephew?!?

Speaking of his home, let’s check in with Winterfell...

Bae (Jon Snow) is like wow being in charge is hard no wonder Obama turned gray lol-is-this-thing-on? And Sansa is like eye-roll and they have a little tiff in front of everyone which is EMBARRASSING. A few important things happen here: 

Bae tells everyone to dig for dragonglass cuz it’s the only way to kill the zombies. He’s like hey bois, gurls, gender-non-comforming-individuals, EVERYONE needs to get to work and dig and learn to fight

Everyone’s favorite pint-sized-ruler-of-Bear-Island, Lyanna Mormont, is all about that lyfe, as shown in gif above

Bae is like wow little kids are pretty good at being in charge so let’s put these other 2 lil’ squirts in charge over at their houses

Bae sends hottie-ginger-wildling-bae to guard part of the wall where the zombies are probably heading first. Goodbye ginger-bae. 

Sansa does not agree with the putting-kids-in-charge bit which is what they argue about but he does it anyway. They kind of makeup and then they talk about how Cersei (aka Queen Pixie Cut aka QPC) is in charge now and Sansa is like she cray but also a BAMF. 

Later we get a scene of Brienne, everyone’s fave lady-knight, training her squire how to fight and are reminded that ginger-bae has the hots for her. As Sansa watches this all play out, Littlefinger (ugh he is the WORST) comes over to tell Sansa for the 80th time that he loves her and wants to rule the world with her. And as she has done 80 times, she’s like NO THANKS DUDE. 

Speaking of Queen Pixie Cut (QPC) let’s check in on her over at King’s Landing…

QPC is ruling whatever is left of her people after she blew most of them up. She commissioned this giant map/painting on the ground and is stompin’ all around like she owns the place, which, to be fair, she does. Her twin bro/lover, Jamie, comes over and is like ummm… what’s the tea? Remember how our last living kid jumped out of a building and died last season… can we discuss? And she’s literally like yolo we gotta rule this place FOR US. And he’s like but we don’t have any heirs anymore, like who’s gonna take over after that you can’t #liveforever this ain’t the high school cafeteria in the film version of Fame. She’s like dontcha worry, I gotta plan.

So Theon’s crazy uncle shows up to see them. If you’ll recall last season, he killed his bro and then tried to become king of the wet-rock-pile by throwing up a bunch of sea water even though his niece, Theon’s sis, was totes supposed to become kween of her peeps. While he was performing his water-gagging-magic-trick, Theon and his sis ran away with a bunch of the peeps and all of the ships. Again, their entire island seemed to have about 20 people so WHO IS ON THOSE SHIPS? IDK. And he was like NBD I’ll make a bunch more ships AGAIN WHO IS BUILDING AND THEN RIDING ON THESE SHIPS IDK. So I guess the ships are built and people must be on them because they show up to QPC’s shores and she’s like whatup. Jamie is NOT HAVING IT mostly because he is jelly since Theon’s crazy uncle (TCU) is hittin on his sis. TCU manages to squeeze in a really sick burn when he’s like well at least I have 2 working hands (Jamie got one chopped off 3 seasons ago) and then he asks QPC to get with him. She’s like naw dawg so he’s like NBD I’ll be back with a “very special present” and heads off. They also banter about how his niece and nephew and Khaleesi and QPC’s other bro (Tyrion) have all teamed up and are headed that way.

WDTSEM? In the books, apparently TCU has some sort of magic horn that can call dragons? I think this might be the gift he’s going to get and bring back to QPC which would be CLUTCH because in the upcoming battle against Khaleesi, the ability to control those dragons would be really helpful.

Next, let’s see how Sam is doing over in “Oldtown” where all the maesters live...

If you’ll recall, Maesters are like doctors/librarians/historians, each of whom is assigned to either a place (like the ice wall) or a family, I guess (like the Starks). Sam wants to be one but he also is NAUGHTY and brought his gf and her bb with him (Maesters are also supposed to be celibate like the ice wall guys). He’s in maester-training-camp which includes a lot of diarrhea, apparently. He’s like cleaning bedpans, putting back library books, and doing autopsies on the reg. JIM BROADBENT aka Prof. Slughorn from HP aka Harold from Moulin Rouge shows up and is like DON’T GO IN THE RESTRICTED SECTION OF THE LIBRARY, SAM (flashes of Harry Potter, amirightladies?) so of course Sam does. He sneaks some books home and finds out that “Dragonstone” which is a castle near King’s Landing that Khaleesi is heading towards, is built on top of heaps of “dragonglass” (which, I mean, could have guessed) so he’s like I gotta tell Bae since I know bb boi is trying to stock up on that. Also, there’s a brief scene when Khaleesi’s friend who had the turning-to-stone-disease (Stoney) is like in a hospital where Sam is working and is pops his stone-hand out and is like IS SHE HERE YET? Aka Stoney wants to know if Khaleesi has made it to Dragonstone yet, which WAIT TIL THE END OF THE EPISODE, DUDE.

WDTSEM? Especially the scene with Jim Broadbent (JB) is important because he talks about how the ice wall has always held up after centuries of zombie attacks and how empires rise and fall and just like go with the flow, Sam. My guess is that they’re bringing up how strong the ice wall is and how unlikely a zombie-attack really is because this is something that may actually happen now so we can really grasp how high the stakes are nowadays.

Before we get to Khaleesi, we have to check in on “The Hound” who’s walking around with those fire-worshipping dudes these days…

Is it just me or is man-bun guy kinda hot? So he and “The Hound” come across this farm house which the Hound is having some guilt about b/c last time he was in the hood he killed the girl and her dad who lived there. They find their bodies and everyone is like IDK who killed them but ugh… that’s life. And then the fire-worshipper-guys are like here look at this fire and remember the Hound hates fire because he got half of his face burned off as a kid. But he does look at the fire and has like a premonition of zombies going around the ice wall and attacking all the living people. Then he and hottie man bun bury the dead girl and her dad outside because the Hound feels #guilty for killing them I guess?

WDTSEM? Well the Hound used to be really murder-y but then he was saved by Ian McShane and his group of like Amish people (much like Harrison Ford in the film Witness) and decided to renounce violence. He used to work for QPC’s family and then kind of kidnapped Arya but also was not the worst to her (or to her sister for that matter) so if shit’s going down he could potentially be on the Stark side of things now. 

Lastly, we check in with everyone’s fave kween and co, Khaleesi, who rolls up on Dragonstone with all her pals…

She hasn’t been to this side of the world since she was a wee babe so when she steps foot on the sand, she’s like give me a minute y’all. Then she walks into the castle and looks at the throne, which is NOT made of a bunch of swords but rather a slab of rock and is still pretty baller and walks right past it to head to the room with the giant map on it. Previously, Stannis and his friends lived there including sweet ole’ no-knuckles who is currently #teambae and he spent a lot of time strategizing and having sex with witches to produce demon babies on that table. Khaleesi looks around and then is like, let’s get it started in here #blackeyedpeas.  

WDTSEM? Well, duh, cuz Khaleesi is in it and she is basically the Beyonce of GoT. But also because she has had this single-minded pursuit on the iron throne (chair made of swords where QPC is currently sitting) so you’d think she’d like take a minute to sit on this rock-slab-throne and savor the moment, but she (unlike QPC) knows that a true kween not only sits there, but also gets shit done. And I think this scene is supposed to contrast how #woke Khaleesi is compared to QPC. Both have giant maps and thrones now, but QPC is so out of touch that she has no time for strategy or listening to other people’s advice. 

Final thoughts:

This ep was what the TV people call a “table setting” episode and it did just that. The drawback is that it was pretty boring. We just check in on all of our key players/places and see how everyone is doing which is normally quite helpful in GoT world. But the season 6 finale already did that for us, so it seems to be just an extension of that episode rather than something new and exciting. Now on to our superlatives...

Biggest surprise this ep: Sam is interning for JIM BROADBENT these days, which is pretty great. Also Ed Sheeran lives in GoT-world I guess which actually explains a lot.

Biggest letdown: We only get THREE WHOLE WORDS from Khaleesi in the entire ep!

Important fashion moments: Sansa’s new lacefront is NOT working for her. With this budget you’d think they could afford better wigs! Also, while I won’t miss the Mereen subplot, I will miss Khaleesi and co being in a warmer climate because she and her friends had some killer crop tops/ cut out dresses/ bright colors . Now that everyone is on the cold side of the world, we have much less #fashun.

Who died this ep? A bunch of Walder Frey’s main cronies

Check in next week when we’re promised someone will finally be strangling littlefinger so we may be rid of his creepy soliloquies soon! Thanks for reading tell your friends!

CORRECTION: After checking my sources, it seems like the Hound maybe didn’t kill the farmer dude and his daughter but instead stole their shit and so they were forced into the dire circumstances that led them to their death. So while it sounds like he didn’t kill them, he still feels guilty that he basically caused their deaths.

Also, I incorrectly ID’ed Bae as Khaleesi’s uncle a few times but actually she is his aunt I guess? Sorry to lead you astray! 

#gameofthrones #letmewatchtv4u #lmwtv4u #jonsnow #khaleesi #jimbroadbent #sansastark #aryastark #cersei #branstark #dragonstone #got #got s7 premiere #gots7e1